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hyuckssunchip · 3 years

Text

“Do I Need To Leave?”

Pairings: Jeno x Reader, Jaemin x Reader

Words: 2.8K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), fluff, SMUT, threesome, m&f oral receiving, unprotected sex

Synopsis:

nomin threesome

who can resist the idea of Nomin??? okay this was a lot longer than i thought it would be.

smut below keep reading

Jeno rubbed your head, stroking the fallen strands out of your face. Though you were half asleep, you snuggled deeper into his chest at the feeling.

He smiled softly, leaning to land a kiss on your forehead. The heaving of his chest gently rocked you into a deeper sleep. At some point you were almost unable to fight off the sleep, but a knock on the door slowed the feeling.

Even though your eyes were shut, you could tell the door was opened with the beam of light that escaped from the hallway. The light disappeared almost immediately, but the padded footsteps alerted you of a person’s entrance.

“Hyung?” A whisper cut through the dark room, and it was received by the rustling of the blankets around you.

“Jaemin?” The rumbling of his chest had you smiling at the feeling.

“Are you sleeping?” But he cut himself off. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to recognize the lump that was lying half on top of Jeno. He paused at the sight of you, hesitating to continue. “Oh. I’ll come back later.”

Jeno stops him from leaving, motioning for him to continue. “No it’s fine.”

Jaemin’s eyes shift before he starts to whisper before he was cut off again.

“Jaemin if you’re going to whisper, you’re going to have to come closer. I can’t hear you if you’re across the room.” He beckoned for him to come closer, something the younger faltered at.

A few padded steps later and Jaemin leaned down to whisper but he froze at the sight of you laying on his chest. Whatever words he wanted to get out were suddenly stuck in the back of his throat. He tried desperately to forced the feeling down, but his heart still skipped a beat.

Jeno absentmindedly squeezed your thigh, pulling you closer against him. At the sudden feeling you felt sleep withdraw and your eyes fluttered open, struggling to adjust with the lack of light.

Your eyes instantly met with Jaemin’s who was incredibly close to both you and Jeno.

“Hi.” You whispered out, not wanted to break the mood. You smiled at him, but it wasn’t returned, he just hiccuped his breath startled by proximity. At his lack of response, and the fact that all he offered were his wide eyes, you turned your head up to face Jeno.

“Do I need to leave?” You asked, whispering to him, afraid that you were imposing on a private matter.

But it was Jaemin that shook his head aggressively at the offer. It was only after that did Jeno agreed, rubbing your hair softly, “No, don’t worry.”

“What’s up?” Jeno directed his attention to the flustered boy, who was doing his very best to avert his eyes.

“Uh...” Jaemin hesitated, suddenly feeling very embarrassed about why he had intruded. “I was wondering if I could borrow your computer... for... uh... you know.”

Jeno let out a confused sound not quite understanding the intentions, but after a few seconds he understood why Jaemin needed his computer.

Even in the dark Jaemin turned a deep red that you could see, and he backed up, quickly throwing away the idea and choosing to just escape.

“Jaemin.” Jeno chuckled out, his tone suddenly turning darker. “Instead of porn from the computer, how would you like to watch it live?”

Although it sounded like he was joking, his gaze showed otherwise. There was a long silence before Jaemin stuttered out nervously, “What?”

Jeno raised an eyebrow at the boy, then turned to face you suggestively. “No?”

You blushed, digging you head into his neck, and you felt wrong for feeling so aroused at the thought of Jaemin watching.

Jeno sent another look towards Jaemin, taking his silence and the fact that he hadn’t yet left as a sign that he too wanted it.

Jeno lifted you up so that you straddled his waist, loving the way that Jaemin’s eyes lustfully traveled over you with jealousy. He had pulled your borrowed shirt off in a rush, leaving you in nothing but the lacy top that Jeno loved you in.

Jeno was a sucker for you in lace, in fact he rarely took off your lingerie during sex. Tonight it seemed like the black lace hugged you perfectly and by the way that his hands couldn’t seem to leave your skin it seemed like he felt the same.

The sound of Jaemin groaning stole your attention for a moment. His had was dangerously close to his cock, itching for relief, but feeling to out of place to do so. There was an embarrassed look on his face, but it didn’t hide the lust in his eyes as he raked over your figure.

At that moment Jeno placed his hands on your waist, grinding them down on his hard on, having you release a moan in response. You fingers flitted to his chest, gripping his shirt as if trying to stabilize yourself. After a few more moments, and you found yourself getting wetter, Jeno flipped you over, climbing between your legs, kissing your skin as he lowered himself towards your core.

The pleasure you were feeling, and the anticipation of what he was going to do to you, had you writhing below him. But he abruptly stopped, eliciting a whine from you, You reached your hands up to tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him towards the place that you needed him the most.

But he evaded you, sitting back up with a wicked smirk. You narrowed your eyes, not liking the idea of leaving you high and dry, especially after how worked up he had just had you.

He averted his eyes, looking towards a very antsy Jaemin in the corner. “Jaemin don’t you think it’d be nice to give Y/N a little help?”

Jaemin gulped at the insinuation, his dick throbbing at just the thought. He nodded hesitantly, wide eyes trained on your spread out body. But the moment that you turned to face him, he dodged your eyes, probably too shy to do so.

Jeno beckoned for Jaemin to come closer, standing up after scooting of the bed. With a pat on the back he exchanged spots with the boy, but not before mentioning that he should pay attention to the clit, and that you like it most with two fingers.

You blushed at the brazen words of your boyfriend. Jaemin stared blankly for a moment before climbing onto the bed where Jeno once laid, looking up at you almost for permission. You nodded once with parted lips, not having the will to fight against it, not that you wanted to.

Jaemin was hesitant at first, leaving fluttering chaste kissing down your belly. But the moment that he reached your panties you squirmed under him, eager for more. Jaemin continued to leave soft kisses over your panties, reveling at the wetness that had begun to leave through the fabric. He got significantly bolder, using his teeth to scratch at the tips of your lace, dragging your panties slowly down.

You lifted your hips towards him, but he pushed them back down. You heard Jeno laugh from the corner, but your eyes were fixed on Jaemin, begging him to continue. Your panties were dragged down your legs, leaving you bare for both to see.

You turned your head to the side, rolling back to see Jeno with his dick situated in his grip. He was watching with a deep desire, his hand rubbing slowly up and down his length. As he made eye contact with you, he stood up, moving towards you and stroking your hair as he often did, but this time you could feel it was much different.

The feeling of Jaemin’s tongue flicking over your nether lips had you gasping, and tangling your hands in his hair. Jeno took this opportunity to do the same, grabbing a fist full of hair so that your gaze stayed with his. He didn’t even need to prompt you, your mouth fell open ready accept his cock.

He hissed as your tongue grazed the bottom of his cock, his head rolling back in pleasure as he pushed in and out of you. Because your mouth was occupied, you couldn’t even gasp at the feeling of Jaemin running swipes on your pussy with his fingers, sucking gently at your clit. But the feeling of his digits pushing into you and stretching you out was too much, causing you to moan around Jeno’s cock, the vibration stimulating him as he let out a groan of his own.

Both Jeno and Jaemin’s pace increased, his fingers creating lewd noises accompanied by the loud slurping and sucking nosies of both you and Jeamin. His digits twitching deep inside you and with a come hither motion your felt your orgasm coming. You could tell that Jeno was close as well, his hand gripping tighter as he moved deeper. His hips stuttered for a moment before you felt the stream of cum shoot to the back of your throat, doing you best to swallow all of him. He pulled with a sigh, stumbling backwards and choosing to take a seat on the chair that he had previously occupied.

Jeno’s absence now left your mouth open and you moaned, tugging tufts of Jaemin’s hair, moving your hips greedy to reach your high. Jaemin doubled his speed, and the suction of his lips driving you crazy. The ball in your stomach tightened as you released on his face, watching as he lapped up as much as he could.

You let him continue until the feeling of overstimulation had become too much. You pushed him away softly watching as his wide eyes met yours. With a gentle tug you pulled him up until he was straddling over you, his hard dick pressed against your core.

Almost immediately, as if you hadn’t just come down from your high, you were turned on by the feeling, suddenly feeling very desperate to have something other than his fingers stuffing you.

“Baby, why don’t you give Jaemin a hand, he hasn’t even touched himself yet.” Jeno piped up from the side, watching with eyes of humor.

You didn’t even look at your boyfriend, already agreeing with him.You pushed him off you with a little effort, and took your place on top of him, reminiscent of how the night had started. You ground your hips against him, tugging off his shirt and latching your lips against his throat, knowing that there would be marks in the morning.

Jaemin lifted his hands to your hair, pulling you away slightly to get a good look at you. The kisses that you had left on his neck had moved to his lips, the both of you fighting for dominance. His hands moved, tracing down your body until they found a spot on your ass, which he squeezed tightly, gripping with tension. His hips lifted to meet yours until you couldn’t take the friction anymore. You pulled away, tugging his pants and underwear down in one thrust. There wasn’t even a need for helping him get up, he was already dripping with pre cum. You scooted up, positioning yourself just above his erection before sinking down onto him.

His grip tightened and he let out a groan, biting his lip didn’t do much to muffle the sound. You stilled as he bottomed out, wriggling around to get comfortable, and consequently getting Jaemin more excited than he already was, which you didn’t think was possible.

The slow and rhythmic pulses that he was starting with began to pick up with a sense of urgency. Jaemin seemed to be desperate to reach his high, as if he was scared Jeno would take it away from him. Instead, however, Jeno with a watchful eye enjoyed himself from the corner, hand occupied once again.

Jaemin thrust up into you, reaching up to fondle your breast, elevating the pleasure. As soon as you felt the knot in your belly tighten, you were quickly interrupted by your boyfriend.

“Stop.” Frustration overwhelmed you, and it took all that you had to stop yourself from moving. He motioned for you to get off of Jaemin, and you clenched around him as you felt his dick slide out.

Both of you watched Jeno with wide eyes, watching with wanton gazes. Jeno pulled you away positioning you so that you were on all fours facing Jaemin, who was still lying half upright against the pillows. Jeno leaned behind you, his length rubbing against you and his chest flat against your back.

“Why don’t you help Jaemin finish with that pretty mouth of yours?” He teased you, “She does wonders with that mouth.” That last part was directed at Jaemin who was desperate for his own release.

“And while you do that, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.” Your eyes rolled at the thought, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He didn’t give you much more of a warning, as he suddenly thrusted into you, causing you to fall forward a bit, moving closer to Jaemin. Jeno showed no signs of stopping and so you grabbed at Jaemin’s cock, dribbling spit before landing a soft kitten lick. His cock twitched, the stimulation already getting him close. Then in one swift move you took him in your mouth, pushing your nose extremely close to his abdomen. He was slightly smaller than Jeno, so it was easier to deep throat him.

At that moment, Jeno reached around you and rubbed your clit, causing you to moan around Jaemin. The vibration had him thrusting upwards, bringing tears to your eyes.

Jeno growled from behind you, unrelenting with his thrusts. “Look at him baby.” He grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling your head back so that you were forced to stare at Jaemin.

Jaemin had thrown his head back, but soon returned to face you tangling his fingers in your hair to grip, replacing Jeno’s with his own. You continued bobbing your head until you felt Jaemin’s hip begin to meet with your face, slowly starting to fuck your mouth. Then at once, his let his load out into your mouth, riding it out until you had swallowed all that you could.

You pulled your mouth off of him with a loud pop and watched him with a sly smile. But this break didn’t last for long, as Jeno took this chance to hammer into you, picking up the pace. Both his thrusts and his fingers doubled in speed and you felt yourself nearing your high incredibly fast.

“Fuck, Jeno I’m so close.” You mumbled out, head now rested on Jaemin’s stomach, unable to keep yourself up. Jaemin, in contrast, was softly petting your head, pulling wet strands out of your face as you panted against him.

“Just a little longer baby.” He grunted in time with his thrusts.

He neared his high and you clenched around him, causing him to release. At the feeling of him inside of you, you let loose, coming together. He collapsed against your make, and in turn you fell fully against Jaemin, who was stuck on the bottom.

For a few moments the only sound was the soft heaving of breath, the three of you tangled in sweaty limbs.

Jeno was the first to get up, going to the bathroom to get cleaned up, leaving you and Jaemin alone to come down from your highs. Jeno returned with shorts on and a wet towel and clean clothes for you.

Jeno chucked a pair of shorts at the two of you, motioning for Jaemin to put them on. After cleaning you both up, he climbed up over you and onto the other side of the bed, pulling you into his embrace from behind, kissing softly on the back of your neck. Jaemin rustled to leave, but a quiet sound from Jeno had him pausing.

“Just stay for now.” He mumbled out, gripping you tighter. “If the others catch you...” He trailed off, and you glanced up to meet eyes with Jaemin. You smiled softly at him, motioning for him to come back.

Once he was settled back on the bed Jeno spoke out, “How was it? Better than porn on a computer?” He teased Jaemin, who again, turned red at the reminder.

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You giggled at the way that he tried to play it off.

“We might need to try it again to really know though.” Jaemin grinned at you with a wink, waggling his eyebrows to make the point clear.

Jeno chuckled from behind you in the same teasing tone, “Yeah? I’ll think about it.”

“Do I need to leave?” You asked teasing the pair, who had obviously come to a conclusion without you.

855 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 4 years

Text

all she want is payback for the way i always play that shit

characters: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaah yikes, sorry it’s so long???? the first part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you wont make it back; touya + reader have been fooling around for just under six months, our innocent lil good girl reader is the teeniest, tiniest bit more firm now. jealousy makes people crazy, yk how it is. touya is marginally softer for like, a second or two. | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), public sex, cheating, drug use, generally toxic relationship (possessiveness, jealousy), size difference, dubcon if u squint i guess???, the tiniest bit of cumplay

words: 11k

synopsis:

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

In early February, your parents finally tie the knot.

“Now it’ll be official,” you remember Touya whispering in your ear, the night before. “I will officially be your niichan,”

The wedding is gorgeous—elegant and classy, just like Rei herself. A wintertime wedding is so beautiful, you tell Rei as she’s busy being fawned over by several stylists, adding the finishing touches to her hair and make up. She’s absolutely stunning, a lacy ivory dress clinging delicately to her small frame, accentuating her natural curves. It glitters gracefully in the pale sunshine streaming through the large bay windows, sparkling any time she moves.

Touya doesn’t sit with his family. Their eyes sear into your flesh, although Touya keeps his stare pointedly in front of him, glaring at the alter. But you can feel their gaze on your skin, can feel their eyes travelling up your body slowly, critically, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It makes your skin crawl, both of your hands curling around Touya’s, a tangled knot of fingers resting in your lap.

You’ve never seen his other siblings before. Rei talks about them sometimes, but never when Touya’s around. You know that once every month, the three of them join Rei and your father for a family dinner, but you’ve never had the pleasure of attending.

You’d missed the first family dinner by fluke, held up late at the library studying for midterms. But every occasion after that, Touya had made absolute certain that you weren’t there. You hadn’t thought much of it the first time it happened, too enraptured and tangled up in Touya to care, grinding desperately against him in the backseat of his car as his tongue forced its way down your throat. But then it happens again, and again, and it becomes too coincidental to ignore.

“Why do we never go to those dinners with your siblings?” you’d tried to bring it up subtly the third time you guys skipped out on dinner, heart thudding in your chest and gentle voice quivering slightly.

Touya sighed, raking a hand through his hair roughly, eyes not straying from the road ahead of him. It’s complicated, he told you in a quiet voice, and you were so startled, so shocked by his sheer, unadulterated honesty, that you couldn’t find your voice, rendering you incapable of replying. Touya didn’t bother looking over at you, didn’t need to, to know that his response surprised you.

The other Todoroki’s are all strikingly beautiful—not that you expected any less. The one with pure snow-white hair and gunmetal grey eyes captures your attention the most, looking as if he’s around your age. He smirks at you when he catches your stare, giving you a small, polite nod—though you can see that tiny glint of mischief in his eye, the same glint you’ve seen in Touya’s a thousand times before. Choking on a surprised gasp, you rapidly avert your gaze, eyes snapping back to the pile of hands in your lap.

Touya notices, of course, because Touya notices everything. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand squeezes yours tightly, just a little too tight to be comforting, as his eyes dart to his siblings across the aisle, glare losing most of its heat when it meets his brother’s stare.

Tense shoulders relax, falling slowly with the measured breath he exhales as he turns back to glower at the alter.

You know other guests are staring at you—you can feel their eyes, too. You know the pair of you look more like a couple than siblings, know you should both probably put some distance between yourselves, at least try to keep some semblance of normalcy, some masquerade of a typical sibling relationship.

But Touya’s knee is bouncing, and he seems…unsure. It’s unsettling, really—Touya always seems so confident in himself—and you can almost feel the tense anxiety rolling off of him in heavy waves. So instead of scooting away from him or untangling your hands, your other palm finds a spot high on the thigh pressed tightly against yours, small fingers beginning to knead the flesh.

Sapphire eyes find yours, and he gazes down at you with an odd sense of fondness in his stare, the tiniest smile ghosting across his lips. It makes your chest swell with pride, makes you want to grab his face and crash his lips against yours, forces a tingling warmth to spread through your veins. It shouldn’t, but it does.

He barely lets you leave his side that day, keeps you glued to his body, an arm wrapped tightly around you. He’s a constant, looming, protective presence, glaring at anyone who dares to look at you for more than a second.

“Touya-nii,” you laugh a little while leaving the ceremony, watching as one of your cousins immediately averts their eyes. “That’s my cousin,”

“And I’m your brother,” he says flatly.

You suppose he has a point.

The two of you find your parents and the rest of Touya’s siblings—yours too, now, you guess—standing around a limousine, beckoning you over.

Rei begins to explain their protocol for pictures—and yes, you both have to come—but you aren’t listening. Their eyes are on you again, you can feel them, gliding up your skin, taking sharp note of the way Touya has you pressed flush against him, the way your arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, little fingers twisting in his suit jacket as your heart begins to speed up.

Touya can feel it, too, and he looks down at you in concern, his thumb caressing your shoulder, before he meets the stares of his siblings with a glare so ferocious you’re surprised it doesn’t turn them to ash on the spot.

They offer for you to ride in the limo with the rest of them, Touya cutting them off as he curtly declines their offer—no thanks, you’ll take his car instead and meet them there.

Rei tries to reason with him, but the pointed look he gives her causes her to trail off mid-sentence, holding his eyes for a moment before a sad smile settles on her face, nodding once.

✰ ✰ ✰

Shinjuku Gyoen is nothing short of stunning in the wintertime. It had snowed this morning, around six AM, blanketing the garden in a soft layer of pure white powder, glittering delicately in the early afternoon sun.

Wide eyes drink it in as your face presses against the glass of the car window, your breath fogging it up. There’s something so whimsical and dreamy about snow, you think, about the way it softens even the sharpest of edges, the way it makes everything look prettier.

“You’re so cute,” Touya remarks, watching you from the corner of his eye, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’ve never been here during the winter,” you murmur in response, still captivated by the grounds.

Rei and your father are immediately whisked away by several photographers to do their photos alone, leaving the rest of you to litter the parking lot.

But the moment they disappear from view, Touya’s got you trapped between his body and the cold metal of his car, lips moving against the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises, things that force soft whimpers from your lips, things that make your legs feel like they’re about to give out as heat pools deep in your belly. He knows, of course, smirks and teases you even more when he feels you squeeze your thighs together helplessly, tells you you’re his perfect little slut and vows to reward you for being so good as soon as he can.

His other siblings are staring, you try to tell him in a quiet, broken whine.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes, pushing his hips harder into yours, practically grinding his hard cock against your waist. “Let ‘em. I bet they’d love to watch me fuck you stupid, huh? What do you think about that, baby? You want them to watch?”

A pathetic sound hitches in your throat and you bury your burning face in his neck, a low, wicked laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

He doesn’t let up on the absolute filth spilling from his mouth until he can hear your father hollering in the distance, calling for the kids and waving the five of you over.

✰ ✰ ✰

Pictures take too long, and Touya’s antsy by the end of it, picking anxiously at his cuticles as his knee bounces. He’s hauling you out of there the moment you’re officially released, a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You can hear his mother calling for him, and you look back at her desperately, mirroring her worried frown.

He doesn’t even wait for the rest of them to pile into the limo and leave, immediately rooting through his pockets the moment he’s in the safety of his own car, pulling out a little baggie of white powder. He can feel your wide eyes on him, watching his every movement, but his hands are beginning to shake, and panic is starting to rip viciously at his throat, and he just needs it all to fucking stop.

“There’s no way I could endure this shit sober,” he explains as he searches for something in the powder, cursing when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Frantic cobalt eyes dart around the car, landing on the glovebox, and he leans over you, hastily pulling a reflective object from the compartment.

It’s a mirror.

A tiny, circular mirror that he uses to tap out a line, fingers unsteady and breathing slightly laboured. The gentle sounds of his platinum credit card colliding with glass echo throughout the car.

Hovering over the small mirror, he pauses, a finger pressed to his nostril. He almost wants to tell you to look away, almost does, but he knows you’d disobey either way.

He doesn’t like doing drugs in front of you—you’re too precious, too pure and innocent and he doesn’t want you around anything that could potentially tarnish that. But he also can’t stand that look you get in your eyes, almost like you’re scared of him, on the rare occasions that you have caught him.

He nearly snaps at you when you quietly ask if you can help, if he needs someone to hold the mirror steady, currently balancing on the center console compartment, but you’ve got that goddamn look in your eyes, wide and terrified.

No, he says sternly, telling you that he doesn’t even want you near this stuff, much less touching it.

But cocaine highs don’t last long, he explains to you when you ask about the little round white pills clacking together in his pocket. You’re positive he shouldn’t be mixing drugs like that, positive that your apprehension and disapproval are written clearly across your face, based on the simmering look he shoots at you.

Don’t fucking start.

So you don’t. You swallow down your worries and sit nice and pretty and good for him, just like you’re supposed to.

✰ ✰ ✰

He only leaves you twice, briefly, throughout the entire night. The first is almost immediately after you enter the reception venue.

Depositing you near the head table, he tells you to stay put before he hurries away. You know where he’s going, what he’s about to do, an odd ache taking root and throbbing deep in your chest.

He’d scold you if he could see you, able to read your expressions like a fucking book, would tell you not to cry for him—he doesn’t need your pity. The words cut through your mind in a snarl, and you work hard to rid your face of the frown marring it; he’s already having such a difficult time today, and the last thing you want to do is upset him more with your concern.

Distraction, you need a distraction. Wide eyes scan the extravagant ballroom, all shimmering golds and beiges and crystal chandeliers, searching in a frenzy for something—anything—to rid your mind of images of pretty boys with inky hair and white, white, white.

You swear you hear your name, then Touya’s, hissed out in a sharp whisper, and your gaze lands on a small group of people not too far from you, with snow and fire for hair—the other Todoroki’s, huddled in a loose circle.

The air around you just feels off, you catch his sister saying in a low but frantic voice, eyes darting between her brothers. She sounds worried about you, you think, and it makes you feel weird. She shouldn’t be worried about you; Touya takes fantastic care of you. It isn’t any of their business anyway, you can almost hear Touya sneering in your head, and he’s right. You know he’s right.

Her brothers don’t look too keen on discussing the subject, especially the youngest, who keeps pulling at his collar and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Well, why don’t you go and tell her that yourself,” the one with white hair says, grey eyes connecting with yours. She whirls around quickly, mouth snapping shut when she finds your face. Her lips morph into a smile half a second later, and she waves you over.

You avert your eyes, hands tangling nervously in front of you. No. You shouldn’t go. You really, really shouldn’t go. Touya told you to stay put, and you can’t bear to think—don’t even want to consider—how furious he’d be if he found that not only had you moved, but you had moved to talk to his siblings.

You must spend too much time deliberating, though, looking back up to find them advancing towards you, only a few feet away. Your heart’s pounding almost violently in your chest, breath accelerating with each step closer.

“Hi,” she’s saying warmly as she reaches you, causing you to subconsciously take a step back. “We haven’t had a chance to meet. I’m Fuyumi,”

You want to say your name, to introduce yourself politely, but your lips are sealed shut, only able to manage a small sound of affirmation.

“Shouto,” the youngest says, cold heterochromatic eyes glancing at you for a moment before looking away. “M’Shouto,”

“I’m Natsuo,” the man with white hair smirks down at you, eyes burning into yours.

Some of your anxiety melts away as you meet his stone eyes; there’s something comforting about the way that he has Touya’s smirk, Touya’s mischievous glint to his gaze, Touya’s playful lilt to his voice.

You feel like you can breathe again when you’re looking at Natsuo, so you keep your stare directed at him as you stutter out your name, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“You always miss the family dinners,” Natsuo accuses with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Y’know, eventually, our parents are going to catch on,”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, chills crawling on your skin. He knows?

And he says it so nonchalantly, so casually, as if he’s discussing the weather and not the fact that Touya deliberately kidnaps you to fuck your brains out in his car every single time they gather for one of those dinners. Fuyumi and Shouto look over at him with brows furrowed in confusion, but you choke on a gasp, coughing a little and nodding.

Touya returns then, saving you from having to respond.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asking immediately as his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you lean on him, heart finally beginning to slow.

“N-Nothing, niichan,” you wrap your arms around his, hugging them to your chest, and he squeezes you in reassurance.

“You sure, baby?” Sapphire eyes search your face as you tilt your head back to look up at him, scanning for any sign of distress.

He shouldn’t be using that pet name here, not in front of his blood siblings, not loud enough that any of the passing guests can hear him with ease.

He shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop it from sending sparks skittering up your spine, heat beginning to coil in your tummy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said you didn’t get some sort of twisted satisfaction at the loud gasp that leaves Fuyumi’s chest, or the sharp intake of breath Shouto chokes on, coughing as he tries to cover it up, all at the drop of that one, simple, four letter word.

Touya loves it, too—you can see it in the way his smirk grows into a full smile, a grin big enough to crinkle the edges of his eyes, can see it in his gaze, in the way his cobalt eyes almost sparkle at their reactions.

Your gaze flits back to the three people standing in front of you—your step-siblings, your mind corrects—eyes gliding over their faces slowly.

Natsuo looks thoroughly entertained, a stupid little grin stretched across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Fuyumi and Shouto, on the other hand, look thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting a little in place, their faces screwed up with poorly masked disgust.

Touya’s smile drops the moment he looks back at them. Azure eyes scan the faces of his siblings cautiously, giving Natsuo one quick, sharp nod of acknowledgment before his gaze lands on the youngest. And the glare Touya gives him is nothing short of terrifying, practically snarling at the boy, a rough, dangerous sound that gets lodged deep in his chest. It makes the boy cower away, shuffling ever-so-slightly closer to his sister, who shakily glares back.

Lips tugging down into a frown, you look up at Touya, forehead creasing in confusion. He’s still glowering at the kid, eyes narrowing just a little before he huffs and turns away, leaving without speaking a word to any of them.

“Don’t you ever talk to them again,” he’s murmuring as he whisks you away, something malicious in his voice. “You’re my little sister,”

You nod obediently, promising him that you won’t, reassuring him that you didn’t even want to as you relay the entire situation. But he can see it, the curiosity swirling in your eyes, a question dancing on your tongue.

Because although Touya appears to be on seriously awful terms with his younger siblings, Natsuo seems to be some sort of exception. From the interaction you just witnessed, you’re able to deduce that something, some line of communication, must be present between Touya and Natsuo, evident in their shared looks and swift, discreet nods.

He sighs, irritation coating his voice as he demands that you spit it out already.

It makes you jump a little, but the words come tumbling out of your mouth the moment he commands them to, powerless to disobey a direct order.

“Does that include Natsuo?”

Your voice is so tiny that he barely hears you, brows knitting together. There’s an odd look in his eye as he observes you—something that isn’t quite jealousy, but close to it—nose twitching a little as he considers.

“Alone, yes,” he finally says. “With me around it’s fine, I guess. But you are not to speak to him alone, do you hear me?”

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan.

✰ ✰ ✰

Dinner is absolute torture, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off of each other. It starts innocently enough, discreetly enough, with palms on thighs, fingers brushing down arms, hands interlaced under the table. But the need to touch grows, and grows, and grows, these simple actions too teasing to satisfy that dull burning in the pit of your stomach, flaring a little more each time his fingers press into your thigh, or his thumb runs across your knuckles.

And you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t start acting up now, not while the two of you are seated at the head table, looking out amongst the guests—a few months ago, you would’ve never thought to do something so indecent, so dangerous, in such a public place. But you just can’t help it, you’re getting restless now, brain going hazy with thoughts of him as your fingers trail up his thigh and ghost over his lap.

“Getting bold, are we, princess?” his hand catches your wrist, holding your palm in place and grinding up into it. His voice is low, head tipped towards you, sapphire eyes dark. A breath catches in your throat and he smirks, an evil little quirk up of his lips, raising an eyebrow at you in expectation.

You’re lucky they’re seated in a straight line instead of a circle, he murmurs in your ear, Natsuo snickering beside him. “Imagine what your daddy would think if he could see you, acting like such a desperate little slut in front of all of these people,”

A soft, broken moan escapes your lips without your permission, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to combat the heat pooling in your panties. Someone down the line of the table says something, but you’re too enticed by Touya to hear them, your father writing off whatever the remark was with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, those two are always in their own little world,” you hear him dismiss, voice sounding muddled and distant.

“Be a good girl and sit still,” Touya growls in your ear, grip tightening to near bruising.

“But niichan,” you whine, much too loud, gazing at him with glazed, blown eyes. “Niichan,” you repeat, leaning forward to whimper in his ear, fingers flexing around the bulge in his trousers. “N-Need you,”

“If you can’t behave, niichan won’t let you cum later,” he breathes, though his voice is stern, heavy with the weight of the threat.

A pout forms on your lips as he releases your wrist, firmly placing your hand back in your lap and holding it there for a moment, a silent warning for your wandering fingers to stay put.

But he’s up and out of his chair the instant dinner’s over, moving so quick his seat wobbles a little as he grasps your hand tightly in his, practically yanking you up and dragging you along behind him.

The best thing about these fancy venues, he’s telling you as he strides through the halls, cerulean eyes searching for something, is that they have single person washrooms.

The granite is cold on your cheek as Touya shoves you up against the wall, head bouncing a little as it whacks against it.

You whine and he laughs, a cruel, piercing sound echoing off the walls.

“Aw, baby,” he coos contemptuously. “Did that hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pain radiating through your cheek.

“Poor little thing,” he hisses, lips against your ear as his hands begin to bunch up your dress, gliding over your silk covered thighs, hands fisting in the material as he goes. Pushing it up around your waist, he leans back, hands travelling over the globes of your ass and kneading hard enough to make you cry out.

“You’re a slutty little brat, y’know that?”

Deft fingers hook in the waistband of your thong, all delicate baby pink lace, Touya snickering about how much of a whore you are, wearing such skimpy, slutty panties, as he lets the elastic snap back against your skin.

A little shocked gasp escapes your lips as he begins tugging the dainty fabric down your thighs—you had expected him to merely push them to the side, but he forces you to take them off entirely, stuffing the soaked material in his pocket.

“You think you can just tease niichan like that and get away with it?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head against the wall.

“No,” he murmurs, hips grinding against your bare ass. “Good girls don’t tease their niichans without delivering, do they?”

“No,”

“On your knees,” he orders, spinning you around and stepping back just enough to allow you to sink to the floor. “Get my cock wet,”

Little fingers work quickly, eager to obey, as they undo his pants, practically salivating as you free his cock from its confines.

“Your cock’s so pretty, niichan,” you breathe, eyes glittering with pure, potent desire as you take it in your hands, tongue darting out to trace the prominent veins.

“No teasing,” he growls, a hand knotting in your hair. “I wanna see you choke on it,”

You nod as best you can, mouth instantly falling open, reduced to nothing more than a wet, warm little hole for him to stuff.

And then he’s shoving it down your throat, the hand fisted in your hair holding your head still, and you gag around it almost immediately, working to force you jaw open even more.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he rasps out, voice echoing off the walls of the washroom.

The praise has your heart soaring, has you sucking hard around him as he thrusts into your mouth, coating his cock in thick saliva and desperate to hear more. It’s intoxicating, every quiet moan you manage to pull from him, every breathless good girl that falls from his lips, makes you feel lightheaded and heady and dizzy for more.

His hips pump a few more times before he’s pulling you off his cock completely, devious smirk forming on his lips at your whine of protest, and commanding you to go bend over the sink.

Calloused hands are bunching your dress up around your waist again, toe of his shoe kicking at your inner ankles and forcing your feet further apart.

He doesn’t bother stretching you out, not because he doesn’t have the time to, but because he simply doesn’t want to. It’s truly one of his favourite things, to see tears fill your eyes while his cock stretches your cute little pussy, and he knows you love it too, don’t you?

Yes, niichan, of course you do.

His cock glistens with your saliva, sufficiently wet that it slides in easily enough, with minimal pain for him. And the soft groan he lets out as he watches your little hole struggle to take him, paired with your sweet little whimpers of his name, is nothing short of gorgeous.

It has your pussy fluttering around him, pulling a breathless chuckle from his lips as he fills you to the hilt, hips pressed against your ass.

And then doesn’t fucking move.

Your brow furrows, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You try to fuck yourself back on him, but he’s too quick, hands stilling your hips immediately and tutting in disapproval.

“Niichan,” you whimper. “N-Niichan, please fuck me,”

“Do you think you deserve it?” he’s asking, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “After the way you behaved at dinner?”

“M’sorry,” you whine, wiggling back against him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stops them, grip tightening. “Couldn’t help it, wanted you so bad,”

“Of course you couldn’t,” he smirks, hips starting to move slowly, teasingly, stilling after only three simple thrusts. A hand reaches down and finds your clit, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb brushes over it, back and forth, back and forth, featherlight grazes that have you arching back into him, trying to press further into his touch.

“Think you can cum just like this for me?” he asks, beginning to thrust shallowly again, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging against that spot buried deep inside your cunt, that spot he knows so well, then nudging your cervix. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, breath starting to come out in short little pants.

“Then do it,” he demands in a whisper, eyes still holding yours. “Show niichan how pretty you look, cumming all over his cock,”

And the combination of his deep, rough voice rumbling against your back as praises tumble from his lips, his thumb and cock, and the fact that anyone within a fifteen foot radius of this washroom could probably hear you, has you cumming within minutes with a sharp cry of Touya-nii!

Touya laughs at how pathetically quickly you came, about how easy it is to have you creaming on his cock, heat seeping into your cheeks as you try to look away.

“My turn,” he breathes, yanking your head back up by your hair, fingers finding root in the intricate updo that has begun to fall apart. “And I wanna see your face as I fuck you, so keep your damn head up,”

And then he’s slamming into you with enough vigour to propel you forward, face pressed against the mirror, toes barely touching the ground. Every moan and whimper and mewl he forces from your throat fogs up the glass, leaving tiny glistening drops of condensation as they fade.

You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes open, to watch him as he fucks you, because he always looks so damn pretty.

He’s stupidly attractive, with his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, first few buttons undone and collar popped, revealing his sharp collarbone, smooth ivory skin stretched taut across it. Ebony hair clings to his forehead and neck delicately, coated in sweat, and he’s emitting the most glorious noises, heavy pants and little broken whines, peppered with praise.

Nails bite into your flesh as he holds you in place, hips snapping relentlessly, your fingers curling around the porcelain sink.

“You want niichan’s cum?” he growls in your ear, eyes burning into yours. You whimper in response, nodding against the mirror. “Yeah? Then fucking beg for it.”

Pleads are spilling from your lips immediately, nothing but senseless babbling as he pounds into you.

“Please, niichan, please, need it, your cum, stuff me with your cum,”

“That’s it,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I want every single person in this godforsaken hall to hear you, I want every single person to know how much of—” he cuts himself off with a shuddery curse. “—How much of a slut my baby sister is,”

“Pretty please,” you whine out the words, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fill me up with your cum, niichan, I-I want it,”

His hips still just as your cunt clenches around him, cockhead pressed tightly against your cervix as he fills you with hot, thick ropes of cum.

He pulls out a few moments later, and you uncurl your fingers from around the rim of the sink, wincing at your appearance; lips bitten raw, hair beginning to fall from it’s elegant style, body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You look back at him to find him already staring at you, expectantly, impatiently, hands jittery as he quirks his head towards the door.

“We can’t leave together,” he says, as if it’s obvious, even though you stumbled into the washroom together twenty minutes ago.

He needs more.

You nod, slow and dumb, staggering a little on your trembling legs. Grasping the doorknob you pause, turning to look at him again.

“What?” he asks as he searches through his pockets, not bothering to glance at you. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Um...” you shift nervously from foot to foot, lip caught between your teeth.

He looks over at you sharply, brows rising as if to ask why are you still here?

“M-My panties, niichan,”

Oh.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, brows relaxing.

“What about them?”

“Well, I—I can’t return to the reception without them,”

“Oh, and why not?”

You pause, blinking a few times, at a loss for words. Why not? Because you can feel his cum beginning to trickle out of you, mixing with your juices and dribbling down your inner thigh?

“Exactly,” he says, when you take too long to reply. “Now be a good little girl and go. I’ll be out soon,”

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t go back into the ballroom, terrified that you’ll be ambushed by his—your—siblings again. Collapsing in one of the plush chairs, you cross your quivering legs tightly in a desperate attempt to keep the cum oozing out of you from getting on your dress.

People are looking again, probably think you’re drunk based on the way you teetered over to the seat, or the way your hair’s begun to come undone from it’s intricate updo, wispy strands framing your face.

He returns from the washroom only a few minutes later, eyes finding you immediately. There’s a stupid, smug smirk on his face, thinks it’s so cute that he fucked you so good you can’t walk, can’t even get up, that you need your niichan to help you.

A pout forms on your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Not funny,”

“Very funny,” he chuckles as his hands snake under your armpits, hauling you to your feet. You stumble a little, bumping into him and he laughs again, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and propping you up against him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,”

“Oh, niichan,” you murmur and he pauses, glancing over at you. You reach up, your thumb swiping across his nose to collect excess white powder.

“Thanks,” he breathes, winking at you. You hum noncommittally, about to rub your thumb across his white dress shirt to clean it when he catches your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips and licking it instead.

It isn’t discreet. It’s slow and deliberate, tongue sticking out of his mouth, flattening it against your thumb and dragging it up, from base to tip. You’re sure someone saw that, but you can’t be bothered to care, not when another bout of intense heat rushes to your core, forcing you to squeeze your legs together, trying in vain to keep Touya’s cum from seeping out, from your juices traveling down your leg. A soft whimper leaves your lips, breathing beginning to accelerate as your eyes bore into his, now half-lidded and dark. He holds your gaze for a moment before something snaps.

“We need to go,” he says, voice firm with no room for negotiation. “Now.”

And, God, his voice is rough and raw and fucking dripping with desire. It’s got you nodding before he’s even finished speaking, a flock of butterflies invading your stomach at the downright sinful grin he gives you in response. Such a good girl for him.

Despite the fact that you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm, you nearly moan at his look alone, the urge to kiss him burning through your veins and alighting your entire body in direct juxtaposition to the shivers his eyes just sent rippling across your skin. The insatiable need overwhelms your senses, and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, how captivated he has you, entirely wrapped around his slim finger and hanging on his every word, how you’re positive that, in that moment, you’d do anything he asked.

You wobble awkwardly in your heels, legs still shaking and having trouble keeping up with Touya’s swift pace. You’re about to ask him to slow down just a little so you don’t break an ankle, when you bump into your father.

Who just so happens to provide you with the perfect excuse to leave early. You can practically see the gears clicking into place in Touya’s mind, sapphire eyes glittering as a sinister smirk spreads across his face.

Your father’s eyes widen as he observes your appearance, strands of hair sticking to your clammy face and eyes half-lidded, chapped lips beginning to crack, leaning heavily against Touya and seemingly too weak to stand on your own.

“Hi dad,” you greet hoarsely, wincing a little at how grating your voice sounds.

He frowns immediately. “Jesus, sweetheart, are you feeling alright? You look…” he trails off, forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Oh, she’s not feeling too good,” Touya says softly, smoothly, just the right amount of concern and compassion in his tone.

“Oh no,” your father breathes, frown deepening. “That’s terrible,” he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to tough out the rest of the reception?”

You begin to croak out an answer, but Touya speaks over you.

“She’s burning up, sir,” he informs him, and it isn’t a lie—not exactly, anyway. Technically, if your father were to feel your forehead, your body temperature would be above average, a result of Touya fucking the absolute life out of you a mere ten minutes ago.

Touya looks down at you with painfully sympathetic eyes, but you can still see that little glint of mischief, buried under all of that artificial benevolence.

“Maybe I should take her home?” Touya muses, looking back at your father, mimicking his anxiety effortlessly.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “I think that’s the best thing to do,” his eyes dart to yours. “You really don’t look well,”

Oh, you’re sure you don’t. Resting a little more against Touya, you play up the symptoms a bit, whimpering quietly as little fingers twist in his shirt, nuzzling your face against his side. A soft noise of endearment sounds at the back of his throat, large hands readjusting your body to support you better.

Another whimper falls from your lips, but this time it isn’t from pretending you’re ill. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, slimy and cool as it drips down your inner thigh, and a sick thrill shoots through your body, abused cunt throbbing greedily.

Rei comes up behind your father then, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes flitting between the two of you carefully.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna bring this little princess home,” Touya explains, nodding his head at you in indication as he speaks. “She isn’t feeling very well, poor thing,”

And it’s scary, scary how terrific he is at lying, how easily he slips into that niichan role, the one painstakingly crafted and flawlessly maintained around your parents, the one he’s perfected at this point.

Rei doesn’t say much, only cooing in sympathy, remarking that it’s such a shame, but your father’s eyes soften. “Such a good big brother,” he praises, clapping a hand on Touya’s shoulder.

Touya has to consciously work to smother the smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he responds.

“You have no idea,”

✰ ✰ ✰

Your parents don’t come home that night, opting to go straight to the airport from the venue, embarking on their honeymoon immediately.

It’s nice, playing house with Touya, having the entire place completely to yourselves. He’s been home an awful lot these past few weeks, more than he ever has in the past, and you get to experience things you never could before.

Every morning and every night, you cook breakfast and dinner together. You go grocery shopping together, wash the dishes together, fold the laundry together, all while stealing kisses in between; little domestic things you didn’t really do with your parents around.

You spend every night that they’re away in his bed, being fucked into his mattress, surrounded by the smell of him—campfire and Marlboros and expensive cologne—absolutely full of him in every sense.

You wake up in the mornings with his hand between your legs, playing with your cute little clit, or his cock pressed against your ass, grinding until you wake up. You have sleepy, slow morning sex while you’re both still half asleep, and it’s the most gentle he’s ever been. It consists of lazy, sloppy, messy thrusts against each other, hips meeting halfway—just grinding until he gets too impatient, though he usually lets you cum two or three times before he finally flips you over, trapping you under his body and slamming his hips into you, growling and grunting, your legs pushed up and folded on either side of you.

You get to fuck in the kitchen—not that you hadn’t before, but this time you get to take it slow. He eats you out while you sit on the counter and then fucks you into oblivion and it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, it’s so good. He cums so much that it’s leaking out of you, onto the counter, his chest heaving as he observes it with an odd little smile and a soft “fuck,”

And you get to fuck in the bathtub, that big jacuzzi in your parents room, water and bubbles sloshing around as you bounce on his cock, loud cries echoing off the walls.

It’s going great, until the last weekend of the honeymoon, a mere few days before your parents are supposed to return.

✰ ✰ ✰

A party.

Keigo tries to talk him out of it, tries to at least talk him out of letting you stay.

“She shouldn’t be here,” you hear Keigo hiss under his breath as guests begin to fill the house, Touya snorting in retort.

Keigo doesn’t think you should be around any of this at all—there’s no reason you should have to witness this shit, you catch him growling, gold eyes blazing. No, not a poor innocent babygirl like you, this isn’t the place for you.

But Touya’s too stubborn, too selfish to let Keigo take you out for the night. He knows he’s right, would rather not have you around these people, but he doesn’t have a fucking choice. The thought of you being out of his sight, out with another man, has anxiety rising in his throat, panic clawing at his chest.

As a result, you spend the entirety of the party being passed between Touya and Keigo. There are so many girls here, so many people you don’t know, wide eyes scanning the living room as your fingers twist in Keigo’s hoodie.

Niichan’s busy, Touya tells you, when you ask why you can’t just stay with him, when you ask where he keeps disappearing off to. Niichan’s working, don’t you know? Be a good girl and stay with Kei.

You can tell that Keigo isn’t happy about it. He coos softly when you timidly ask if he’s upset that he’s stuck babysitting you all night, in the middle of an apology when he cuts you off.

“It isn’t your fault, songbird,” he murmurs, gentle fingers tracing the curve of your face.

He’s even angrier at Touya when he takes that first girl back to his room, because the look on your face—the way it crumples accompanied by a soft, hurt sound caught at the back of your throat—kills him.

And it isn’t like you don’t know about his side whores. You do. They’re customers, he had snapped at you, the only time you had ever asked about it. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually have to witness it with your own eyes.

You can’t help the flare of jealousy that rises in your chest every time he takes a girl by the hand and leads them to his bedroom. It stings, burns, feels like a fire’s been lit in your chest, filling your lungs with dense smoke and making it hard for you to breathe.

Keigo tries his best to distract you, gentle fingers on your cheeks turning your face towards him, golden eyes softening in sympathy. He keeps you as preoccupied as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Your eyes are drawn to Touya every time he’s in the room—an automatic, instinctual reaction you couldn’t control even if you wanted to.

And every time you watch a girl giggle into his ear, or hop up with him, that fire smoldering in your chest blazes, rages, has you wheezing and hissing and pressing a palm flat against yourself, a desperate attempt to get the pain to stop.

Tomura’s here, too, though he’s sitting in a shrouded corner on his phone, the light from the screen reflected on his pale face, colours flashing intermittently. He looks absorbed with whatever he’s doing on there—probably playing a game, Keigo tells you, but why are you interested, anyway?

You don’t know, you aren’t sure, you can’t exactly put it into words. He terrifies you, but he sparks a morbid curiosity in you, too. He’s so silent, private, almost inobtrusive; and yet Touya never lets you anywhere near him. Your eyes keep flitting his way, as if trying to will something to happen, staring at him longingly and hoping he’ll look up from his phone for a split second and catch your gaze, that he’ll somehow magically get the hint that you’re desperate and dying to talk to him, and take the first step.

But it doesn’t happen.

Touya is thoroughly unimpressed each and every time he finds you sitting on Keigo’s knee or lap, leaning back against his chest as he speaks with that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, but there isn’t much he can do. The third time he returns to take you from his friend he can tell you’re beginning to get tired, can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re cuddling into a warm chest. He debates sending you to bed right then and there, but you protest, little hands tangling in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Aw, she’s alright for a little more, isn’t she?”

Touya’s sharp jaw clenches twice and he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes darting between your faces.

“Fine,” he says, although it doesn’t seem fine.

And you are exhausted, straddling Keigo’s hips, face pressed into his shoulder and hot breath evening out softly against his neck. Fingers ghost up and down your spine nonchalantly as Keigo talks softly to the people around him, his laugh vibrating against your chest and filling you with an odd, tingly sensation, a warmth that seeps through your body. You snuggle a little closer to him and he coos, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t wanna go to bed with him,” you whisper, words muffled by his skin.

Keigo hums in question, squeezing you once. “Who, songbird?” he presses his lips to your ear as inconspicuously as he can, lidded gold eyes lazily scanning the room for your brother. “Touya?”

You nod sluggishly, little fingers curling in his hoodie, a silent plea not to let you go.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Keigo says softly with a small chuckle, but it sounds off to your ears—sad, even.

“Don’t wanna,” you repeat, pout evident in your voice. “Wanna stay with you,”

You wouldn’t have noticed the way his chest hitches at those four words if you weren’t pressed flush against it. But you feel it, feel his breath getting caught in his throat, reverberating against you as he clears it quietly. Unexpected guilt sours your mouth, makes your stomach turn to a block of heavy lead, weighting your body down.

“You know you can’t, sweetheart,” he finally responds, voice cracking just a bit, right on that last word. “Don’t hurt your niichan like that, he loves you,”

No he doesn’t, you want to say, but you can’t seem to force the words from your mouth, opting to shake your head instead, eyes shutting tightly against the burn of tears.

“He does,” Keigo says, more sternly this time. “Don’t doubt that,”

But you’re not so sure. If Touya loved you—really loved you—would he have disappeared no less than three times tonight, each with a different girl, leading them into his bedroom with those dark glittering sapphire eyes while they gaze up at him like he hung the fucking moon himself?

Honestly, is that even a question you want answered?

You keep your face buried in Keigo’s chest to block it out, to keep yourself from watching your big brother as he flits around the room, handing out discreet baggies in exchange for ridiculous wads of cash and talking in hushed voices, in code, to men who look much too old to be at a house party.

Eventually, Touya returns to retrieve you, bending down and speaking softly.

“It’s time for bed, princess,” A hand pets your head, and you flinch away.

“Hey,” you feel the couch dip beside you as he sits down. “Look at me,”

You’re shaking your head, trying in vain to press even closer to Keigo, but that doesn’t stop Touya from reaching out and gripping your chin, forcing you to face him.

Crystal eyes search your face carefully, wide and alert—he always works sober, you found out. He can tell you’re upset, can see it written plain as day across your face, eyes glassy with your lips set in a deep pout, eyebrows pushed together. Exhaling harshly, he closes his eyes, fingers rubbing at his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he says lowly, wrapping a hand around your bicep and tugging as he stands.

“No,” you nearly growl, shaking your head and viciously pulling your arm from his grip.

Touya stares at you for a moment, like he cannot believe you just had the audacity to tell him no, before he speaks, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What did you just say?”

Keigo’s sitting up straighter now, more alert as your body subconsciously curls into his chest, cowering away from your big brother. “Y-You heard me,”

Snorting in disbelief, Touya raises his eyebrows as his tongue runs along the front of his teeth, huffing out the remnants of a chuckle before his smile drops completely, blue fire blazing in his dark eyes.

“Get up,” he snarls, hand in a vice grip around your arm as he yanks harshly. The force of it has you practically falling off Keigo’s lap, though Touya catches you roughly before your knees hit the hardwood, hoisting you up by your arm to stand on unsteady feet.

“Move.” He instructs, giving you a shove in the vague direction of his bedroom. “Now.”

His chest bumps into your back and you stumble forward, yelping softly. He keeps pushing like this, strong hand clasping your shoulder so tightly you’re sure you’ll have five little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints in the morning, driving you to walk with the sheer force of his body.

“No,” your whispering, trying desperately to turn back and look at him as you approach his door, tears flooding your eyes, frantically shaking your head and trying your damnedest to plant your feet, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to stop him from pushing you forward.

“You really gonna say no to me a second time tonight? In less than fifteen minutes? You think that’s wise, baby?”

You don’t—of course you don’t. It’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do, in this situation.

But even though you know, know this isn’t a smart move, know you shouldn’t be testing him like this—challenging him like this, especially in front of so many people—you’re powerless to control the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s been infested by your whores,”

They come out as a hiss—you don’t mean for them to, but they do, voice quivering under the combined weight of your fury and fear.

That gets him to stop, entire body going rigid. Icy dread rushes through your veins, panic clawing its way up your throat, forcing uneven breaths through your parted lips. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you brace yourself for the impact of his bellowing voice, shoulders tensing in anticipation for the blow, for him to really snap.

Except then he starts laughing, his hand relaxing around your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he backs you up against his bedroom door, caging you in with his body.

“That’s what this is about?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you blink twice in disbelief, prompting hot tears to finally spill over. “I—Wh-Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being silly, princess,”

It hurts, stings like three massive spikes just shot through your heart, causes a tiny whimper to sound from deep in your throat, chest hiccupping with pathetic little half-sobs.

“Sil…Silly?” Time feels as if it’s slowed, your sluggish brain having trouble comprehending the situation unfolding.

His lips pull down into a frown, eyes narrowing slightly as he regards you with extreme precision. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds far away, muffled, like you’re underwater and he’s speaking to you from above the surface. “Hey—”

Your head’s shaking again, in slow, delayed motions from side to side. “No,” you whisper. “No.”

You feel nauseous, and the proximity of his presence is only making it worse, making you feel like you could hurl at any moment. Little hands find purchase on his chest and push, stomach lurching painfully as your head spins.

He catches your wrists easily, holding them together in one large hand, his other coming to grip your chin and force you to look at him.

Thick silence settles between the two of you as Touya’s eyes study your face slowly, noting the tears flowing steadily down your face, the way your breath stutters with sobs you’re so desperately trying to hold back, the way your entire body trembles.

“Are you seriously upset over this?” he asks, laughing a little.

Your gaze holds his, tears casting a thick, gleaming screen across your eyes.

“Yes, Touya,” you whisper, wishing your voice didn’t sound as small and weak as it does. “I’m seriously upset,”

That’s the first time you’ve used his first name—just his first name, void of any honorific—in a long, long time.

It gets him to pause again, his usual and well-worn mask of passivity melting away for just a second as shock crosses his face. Then his features are hardening again, brows knitting together and creasing his forehead, eyes narrowing into near slits.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he spits harshly, the words cutting into your flesh. “You know none of them mean a thing,”

“Then why do you fuck around with them?” you shoot back almost immediately, voice fading into a whisper.

He glares at you, as if you’re wasting his precious time with such childish questions when he’s told you this already, and you can see the blue fire simmering in his eyes.

“It’s late,” he says curtly, voice sounding off to you. “You need sleep.”

You try to fight him on it, but he’s too quick, reflexes too swift, and he shoves you into his room, door slamming shut less than a second later.

Tears obstruct your vision as you stumble around, finally finding his desk chair and collapsing heavily. You don’t even bother trying to open the door, know it’s locked without having to hear that soft click! as the lock turns into place.

He’s right—it is late, well past three in the morning, and you are utterly exhausted, drawing your knees up to your chest and curling up in the plush chair.

But no matter how tired you are, you absolutely refuse to sleep in his bed. The party’s dying down, you can hear Touya’s muffled farewells as guests begin to leave while you fade in and out of consciousness.

You think you might’ve heard Keigo say something, might’ve caught the word stay, might’ve detected the annoyance laced in Touya’s voice as he responds, but you’re too worn out to reflect on it.

At some point in the night, Touya reenters his room, chuckling a little at your antics and carrying you to his bed.

The move wakes you, and you weakly protest—no, you don’t want to be in this bed, please, just let you go sleep in your own bed—but Touya ignores you entirely, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tightly to his chest.

It’s then that the tears start up again, salt staining your puffy cheeks, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he hushes you, nimble fingers combing through your hair. “I’m here, right here,”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Touya over these past few weeks, it’s that he becomes marginally softer in the middle of the night. Your fingers twist in his t-shirt, trying in vain to pull yourself impossibly closer, Touya making a soft noise akin to a coo in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you, niichan’s got you,”

You hate it. You hate that he’s the only person you want comforting you right now, as you lay in his bed, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume and clinging in desperation to him, needing him close, needing his body heat warming you and his hands on you. You hate the way your sobs come harder the more he soothes you, the heavy ache in your chest almost bruising, crushing your lungs and making it near impossible to breathe.

But you crave his comfort nonetheless. It’s a special kind of comfort, one that’s difficult to describe, one that only comes from the love and adoration and protection of a big brother.

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

There’s something in his voice that makes you stop, pause, his words reverberating in your mind. He sounds almost like…like he’s upset over this fact, like he wishes that you didn’t have all of him.

You want to press for more, to probe and prod and pick away at it, but exhaustion finally claims you, rendering you incapable of speech, your tongue moving sluggishly in your mouth as you desperately try to form words.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s grey when you wake, only a few hours later, eyes sticky and dry from lack of sleep. Your head is pounding, feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, and a painful lump forms almost immediately in your throat when you get a whiff of sickly sweet artificial vanilla, then another of intense, synthetic citrus.

The tears are starting up again, collecting in your eyes and clouding your vision. It makes you nauseous, makes your skin crawl and your chest burn as your throat fills with acid. The tears sting, but you blink hard to keep them at bay. You will not cry, not in front of him, not in his bed surrounded by the remnants of those other girls, not again. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

You spring up quickly, halfway through climbing over Touya’s body when a strong hand latches onto your wrist.

“No,” Touya mumbles, face half buried in his pillow. “Stay,”

“No,” you whisper, pulling yourself free from his grasp and hurrying out of his room. You can smell them on your clothes, on your skin, and it makes you want to scrub your body under scalding water until it’s raw.

Everything hurts—it hurts so much it feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, like you can’t breathe, gasping for air as you stumble onto the porch, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stop and realize you have nowhere to go.

Touya has cut you off from all of your friends at this point; any spare time you had was now claimed by him.

And that’s exactly why he doesn’t bother rolling out of bed to follow after you, isn’t worried about you going anywhere, knows you can’t leave him, no matter how badly you want to. No, not a precious little girl like you, with nowhere to find refuge.

You sit down heavily on one of the front steps, vision so blurry with tears you’re barely able to make out the figure advancing towards you. They’re finally escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you blink twice, trying to clear them. Your chest stutters under the force of a sob you’re desperately trying to hold back, clapping both hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence it.

“Hey—oh no,” Keigo breathes the moment your watery eyes look up at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to leak out as your shoulders shake, whole body trembling from the force of your sobs, poorly muffled by your palms.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he’s saying as he rushes to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders tightly.

Keigo’s the closest thing you have to a friend now. And really, you should be embarrassed by the way you practically fling yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your hands form fists in his t-shirt. He’s a little startled by your borderline violent reaction, but he recovers quickly, arms encircling your body and pulling you against him.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing your back while the other pets your hair. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here,”

And you hate the way his words almost directly mirror Touya’s, the way his low sultry voice turned gentle and soft as he carded deft fingers through your hair echoing almost painfully in your head. But Keigo lets you cry, lets you stain his t-shirt with salty tears and saliva until you’ve got nothing left, never stopping his compassionate motions.

“You…Stayed the night?” you pull back a little, the fact that he’s still here, blonde hair all mussed up from sleep, finally dawning on you.

“Well, yeah,” he says, a little bashful as he looks away and ducks his head. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, s’all. Last night was…” he trails off, frowning. “What happened?”

Golden eyes search your face, his forehead crinkling in concern. A beat of silence passes.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…” kind fingers move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll feel better if you let it out, promise. And, not to brag or anything, but I’m preee-tty good at this kind’a stuff,” he chuckles a little.

“Got in a fight,” you whisper, eyes staring intently at the brick wall behind his shoulder as your chin trembles slightly, memories of last night flashing through your mind.

“A fight? With Touya?” Keigo moves his head a little, forcing his face into your field of vision and catching your face with tender fingers when you try to look away.

“Yeah,” tears are beginning to well up in your eyes as you think about it, the sheer fact that you’re in a fight making your heart feel like it’s ripping itself to shreds. A chaotic storm of emotions brews in your chest, switching mercilessly and swirling together so quickly that you can’t even tell what they are. Your insides feel all jumbled up, and trying to decipher what the heck’s going on only makes your head ache more.

They torment you, a deep sense of anguish finally settling at the core. You’re confused, livid at Touya for being such a jackass; jealous, because you want him all to yourself; heartbroken, because you want—need—his approval, desperate to hear him tell you that you’re his good little baby girl.

You want to be his good little baby girl.

But it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Get used to it, he had told you once, when you had complained about something so silly, so simple as him eating the last ice cream cookie sandwich (he made it up to you, of course, telling you he wanted to taste your cream—such a cheeseball—and making you cum three times before taking you out to buy more).

No, it isn’t fair, but you don’t care. You want him to be yours, too.

Keigo tsks, bringing your attention back to him, mouth set in a hard line as sad eyes watch you. “What was it about?”

“I-It…H-He—” a shuddery breath cuts you off, and Keigo draws you into his arms, holding you against his chest as the sobs start up again, sobs that make it feel like your body’s about to tear apart, desperately clutching Keigo to try and keep yourself together.

“Oh, songbird,” he coos, rocking you gently. “Is it…Um, the other girls?”

“Yes,”

“But you know you’re his favourite, right?”

“D-Does it even matter, if he’s still fucking them anyway?” you ask, pulling back suddenly as hot anger flashes through you. “Why does he need them? Am I—” a sob cuts you off, but you swallow it, persevering. “Am I not good enough?” your voice breaks on the last word, fading into a whisper, big teary eyes scanning his face almost frantically, seeking an answer in his expression.

Keigo blinks, surprised by your sudden brashness, then gives you a small, sad smile. “Only he can answer that, sugarplum,” he whispers, using the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear and wipe it across your cheekbone. “But just because he’s fucking around, doesn’t mean that you can’t, too,”

Your head tilts to the side, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Keigo shrugs, leaning back a little. “He definitely deserves it, for making an angel such as yourself so upset,”

You sniffle a little, wiping at your nose with the paw of your sweater as you consider the prospect.

“Y’know, it technically isn’t cheating, since you guys aren’t in any sort of official relationship to begin with,” Keigo reminds you gently, nudging just a tiny bit more.

It isn’t right—you know it isn’t. You’ve never been one to fight fire with fire, often preferring to avoid conflict and drama, but you’re so hurt; you’re so angry at him—angry at the way he reacted, as if it was you in the wrong, angry at the fact that he doesn’t even seen to care about your feelings on the issue, because he knows you’ll come running back either way, angry because he’s right, as evident in the way pathetically clung to him last night—that all you want to do in that moment is cause him a shred of the pain he’s causing you.

It’s an impulsive decision that has you pulling out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts, thumb jabbing at Tomura’s name—Touya had given you his number for emergencies only—before you have time to think it through, before you have time to regret it.

Tiny thumbs fly across the keyboard, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline accelerates your breathing.

Hey. Let’s hang out.

Keigo inhales through his teeth next to you, and your eyes dart to him in surprise, as if you had forgotten he was there.

“Well,” he begins, though his voice sounds odd to you—unlike his usually nonchalant, happy-go-lucky manner. “That’s, uh, definitely one that’s gonna hurt him, songbird,”

You look back down at your phone to see Tomura typing a response.

Yeah, definitely. Pick a day.

“Good.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #no idea how this MONSTER grew so much???#big apologies #part two is DARK and it is coming tomorrow!!!#tw pseudo-incest #tw toxic relationship #tw dubcon #tw drugs #tw cheating

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silksaddle · 3 years

Text

lullaby

rating: 18+ only!

pairing: frankie morales x afab/fem!reader

summary: two love birds fucking to sleep.

word count: 2.2k+

content: fingering, brief intercrural sex, piv sex, biting, praise, choking (if you really, really squint)

a/n: ahhh. ignoring all the day’s responsibilities to write frankie smut. you know how it is.

It’s that usual slump of the rainy afternoon, your brain fogging over at the same rate that your eyelids grow heavy, blurry bursts of attention dwindling down to a steady and constant disinterest. Caffeine would do little to help, you think, clicking the pen in your hand— the only thing that keeps you alert. Incessant, slow snaps of noise against your thumb.

Resting your chin in your palm, you look over the same string of words that have flown through your vision three times, always forgotten once your sight leaves them. A break would help, should help, but you can’t pull yourself up from the chair. Instead, your arms become a pillow underneath your head, crossed and slightly uncomfortable for your neck as you scoot the chair outwards and lean against the desk.

Half-conscious, you hear the door crack open, then listen to the way it squeaks further as Frankie carefully pokes his head in. You hum in acknowledgement of his presence, but it’s the most you can manage, turning your head to rest the other cheek over your forearms, pushing the work back in the process.

His chuckle follows, warm and cheery sounds filling your ears until his large hand rests firm on your shoulder, fingertips applying light pressure in a too-gentle attempt at pulling you upright.

“Baby...” he whispers, lowering his head until his lips are just shy of your ear, “that doesn’t look very comfortable.” There’s a concerned tone lurking underneath the sweet edge of his voice as he begins to rub his fingers into both shoulders, working into the knots and tension. “Time for a nap?”

He presses a little harder into the spaces beside your neck and you raise your head with a sigh, leaning into his calming touch.

“Looks like it,” he continues, bending to leave a soft kiss on your neck. “Come on, sweetheart. Up.” He places his hands under your arms and lifts, raising you a fraction of the way until you hold yourself up for him, standing on your feet and then lazily falling into the support of his strong arms.

“Hi,” you smile into his chest, all woodsy and warm with the essence of campfire.

“Been working real hard, huh?” he smiles back, gingerly leading you to bed, minding the steps you take.

At the foot of the bed, he sits you down and kneels at your feet, deft fingers working at the button of your jeans. His tongue pokes out in his focus, sliding across his upper lip.

“What’re you doing, baby?” you question, brushing a curl off his forehead with a single finger.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but jeans aren’t comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs, his head chasing that subtle touch of yours. His fingers hook at the waistband and tug, you lifting your hips for him to aid in the process. The denim bunches at your feet and he pulls off each pant leg, dropping a kiss to each knee.

You thank him as he stands once more, planting his palms on either side of you as he leans in for a long, simple kiss to your lips. “You know I’m always available if you need to be undressed,” he says into your mouth and you giggle back into his. He urges you to lay down after ridding himself of his own pants, pulling you up with him on the mattress.

He’s a warm, solid comfort behind you as he tucks his smooth legs into the backs of yours, a heavy arm draping over your waist and bringing you ever closer to himself. His nose tickles the back of your neck as he uses it to move your hair, getting it out of the way for his lips to leave kisses there.

“Frankie,” you laugh, light and airy, squirming in his gentle grip while his kisses gain firmness and you feel the unmistakable yet lightning quick swipe of his tongue. His movements slow, an arm sneaking under your shirt and a thumb seeking out your nipple. He brushes over it languidly, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch you and hear the way your breathing quickens.

“Frankie...” This time, you sigh his name instead of laughing it out and you can feel him rapidly hardening against you, his hips beginning an unhurried roll.

“What kind of man would I be...” his breaths are shallow in your ear and he punctuates his words with a rough grind, “if I didn’t fuck my girl to sleep?”

“Oh, God, baby...” Breathless, you match and mirror each roll of his hips, listening to the low groans falling out of him. He brings his thumb up to your mouth and waits for you to take it in and wet it; you swirl your tongue before he withdraws it and brings it back to your nipple, massaging its wetness into the sensitive skin.

“Is this okay?” He moans the question, reaching his hand down the front of your underwear and whimpering when he feels how slick you are for him, how physical your neediness has become.

“Fuck, always, Frankie, keep going,” you splutter, earning a pleased chuckle, his fingers spreading your wetness and circling your clit softly. Your head falls back into his shoulder and your body rocks with each thrust of his, sheets rustling beneath the both of you.

“Shit, you’re wet, baby.” His voice teeters on the edge of trembling as he slides two thick fingers in to stretch you out, fucking you with them in time with his grinding. Your own hand is quick to grasp at his wrist, nails digging, your moans filling the room in high and breathy, desperate and desirous noise. He curls the fingers inside you, pressing them tight to that spot he knows you can barely handle and keeps them there, rubbing it, massaging it.

“Fuck, I need to fuck you, have to... have to have you,” he grunts, rubbing a few more circles before slipping his hand away, leaving you whining at the loss. “Shhh, baby,” he soothes, reaching down and tugging your underwear off. You kick them from your feet and attempt to turn and help him out of his but are powerless against the strength of him pinning you on your side. “No, I want you like this,” he tells you— warns you, sliding an arm under your neck and bending it to hold you still, squeezing you between his bicep and forearm.

Taking his cock out, you feel it hard on your skin with the slight dampness of precum dripping. For a moment, he slides it between your thighs, your arousal allowing it to slip easy and thoroughly through your folds. At another whine of his name, he notches it at your entrance and before stretching you on it, he hooks a hand under your knee and raises your leg.

He gives you the first few inches and pauses to let you adjust, though his restrain is steadily running out. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he lunges forward to the hilt and his grip tightens on your neck, your leg, and the sound that leaves him is wrecked; a serrated and low hiss causing you to wet his cock even more.

“Jesus, fuck— you feel perfect like this,” Frankie babbles, lips catching on your ear lobe. You tilt your head to leave a free space for him and he takes it, open mouthed nips pulling at your skin, but not lasting— he turns to simple mouthing at your neck when he pulls out and pushes back in, the ability to place proper kisses diminishing, replaced by his pleasure.

He’s so thick, even more so at this angle, filling you to the point you feel complete with him nestled into you like this. The scruff of his cheek scratches on your neck, your hand reaching back to keep him there, fingers threading through what used to be a neat head of hair, now a mess of curls.

“M— more, please,” you beg, wishing you could turn your head enough to kiss him. Frankie notices the strain of your need, leaning his face as close to yours as he can, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss; it’s a desperate joining of mouths. His thrusts grow more urgent when he feels your slick dripping out onto the rest of him, sharing his breath with you; his groans to your lighter sighs.

“Yeah baby? You want some more?”

Lifting your leg even higher, deepening the crease in your hip, he fucks into you faster, harder, hitting something profound inside you and he tells you how fucking good you feel, how pretty you are, how gorgeous you sound.

Mewling, you tug roughly on his hair, jolting with every push. His teeth scrape your shoulder, trailing until he bites down on it with a loud grunt, grinding his cock deep instead of fucking you in and out, keeping it inside you with each small but hefty shove.

He surrounds you; his flannel-covered chest and soft belly flush to your back, his wet, desperate mouthing, his cock filling you up so well. He lets your leg free, dropping that hand to your clit, running the tip of his middle finger over its slippery surface.

“That’s right, baby, just let me fuck you,” he coos, nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder, “just let me take— fuck— take care of you.”

“Frankie, you feel so good, baby, I can’t—”

“S’okay, I’ve got you.”

Another moan breaking from your throat forces him to start moving again, hard enough to make those sharp slapping noises of his pelvis against your ass, though not as loud as his harsh breaths in your ear, his strained praise. He picks up the pace of his fingers, swiping petal soft patterns on your clit, your sensitivity allowing that gentleness to be wholly pleasurable.

“I’ve needed you like this for so fucking long,” Frankie confesses, a deep furrow in his brow, his teeth catching his bottom lip. “Thought about fucking you from behind, making you cum on my cock, hearing you moan just for me...”

“Francisco!” You cry, his fingers working you up almost too fast, and paired with the sensation of his intense pushes, there isn’t much time left to brace yourself for the way you’re about to cum, for the way it’s swiftly building up strong and relentless.

“Come on, baby, cum on me, I wanna feel it.”

You can faintly hear him urging you to take a deep breath right as it washes over you, the tingling, fiery release spreading from your head to your toes, all while Frankie fucks you through it. His cock brushes every inner part of you, his finger on your clit stopping just to apply pressure that sings from your core.

“Good girl,” he rasps those sweet words, your throat turning sore at the endless panting and use of your voice, your leg falling limp to the mattress after holding it up so long for him. From the corner of your vision you can see him fisting the pillow underneath you, the veins of his hand prominent, the muscles of his forearm tensing.

“Can I—”

“Yes, please, baby, cum inside,” you whimper, his cock pushing in even smoother with the added slick of your orgasm and he mewls at those words, getting a few more rhythmic thrusts in before they turn ragged and he spills into you with a soft shout. His nose burrows into your neck as he tries and fails to catch his breath; you, letting him hold you close as he comes down.

He resumes those featherlight kisses, a line leading up to that spot just behind your ear— warm presses of his lips with no other intention than to feel you.

“Okay?” He manages to ask, so quiet and bashful, even, as he feels his cum trickle out of you and onto his lap.

“Mhm,” you smile, finally able to turn in his hold, and the sight of him makes you want to do it all over again; his flushed face, his wide, dark eyes looking back at you in admiration, the disheveled state of his button up. The sleeves pushed up to his elbows are all crinkled, and you let your thumb run over the edge of the fabric before feeling your way up his arm. He smiles, a sleepy state of contentment taking over him and he pulls you onto his chest, keeping you safe, a hand on the back of your head.

The patterns of your breathing match, in and out, slowing down, his heartbeat losing speed under your ear.

He makes a happy noise when you place a chaste kiss on his collarbone, the rain picking up outside, washing down the window behind the see-through curtains. He taps the small of your back three times, and you know this is him telling you he loves you, a tap for each word; so you kiss him three more times, two kisses on those smooth spaces where hair refuses to grow, and once on his lips which he returns gratefully.

Drawing the comforter up over your shoulders, he ensures it’s snug over the two of you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you deserve it.”

+ taglist: @filthybookworm @frannyzooey @omgreally @kjim16 @anatanotegami @redkenobi @yeliahk @acrabbybish @battletales @catsnkooks @mitchi-c @xcertaindarkthingsx @ihavenoaesthetic @belleropho-n @i-love-marble-hornets @trollsarenotwelcome @tossacoin2yourwitcher @lycheemi @jennacide02 @astroboots @wigwitch @buckypascal @altarsw @thirstworldproblemss @agent-catfish-kenobi @leonieb @sleep-tight1

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie morales smut #sobs: i love him

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kireii-writes · 3 years

Text

Competition (two is better than one)

summary: with Gojo around, everything turns into a competition

a/n: i just realised as a suguru stan i’ve yet to write anything for him hence this suguru(and geto) brain rot hngggggh.

reblogs, likes & comments are really appreciated! （＾ν＾）

warnings: nsfw, mentions of drug use (marijuana), tag team, oral (giving), gojo has a breeding kink, overstimulation

“I bet I can make her feel much more better than you do.” Satoru turned towards you and Suguru, his blue eyes locking with your boyfriend’s.

“What are you talking about?” Suguru let out a tiny snicker as he stroked your hair while you straddled his lap, causing you to snuggle back into his chest. “Has smoking too much marijuana cause you to go dumb?”

“I’m serious.” Satoru says as he watched how your cheeks hollowed as you sucked on the blunt that Suguru had rolled for you, earning yourself a “good girl” from Suguru.

Scooting closer to the both of you, Satoru tossed his glasses somewhere and stroked your hair as Suguru said nothing but looked at you intently as if to observe your next move.

“I don’t think my baby wants you, Satoru. She knows that i’m better than you. What’s the point in trying to get in her pants?” His best friend chuckled, pushing his blunt between your lips.

“Why don’t we ask her then?”

As the two friends looked at you, you looked back at your boyfriend through hazy eyes that wondered what was going on.

“Satoru here thinks that he can make you feel better than me. Shall we prove him wrong, my beautiful y/n?” Your boyfriend smiled at you as he removed the blunt from your lips.

“She’s all yours, Satoru.”

~~~

A sound somewhere between a moan and whine escaped from you lips as Satoru teased your clit. You were currently lying on the bed, your head on Suguru’s lap as your boyfriend’s best friend teasing your already wet core.

Seeing that you were reacting just the way he wanted, Satoru slowly inserted one long, slender finger. Then two, then three. As you squirmed under his touch, the white hair male took it as a sign and moved his fingers within you, hooked on every little expression you make.

“Already so wet.” Satoru teased. “Does Suguru make you wet this fast?” He snickered as you let out sweet moans.

With his thumb teasing your clit, Satoru’s fingers that were buried within you started moving, as if trying to find something.

“Satoru...” Was all you could let out before your lips were captured by Suguru’s, loose strands of black hair falling around the both of you like a curtain.

You were so caught up with the passionate kiss that Suguru was rewarding you with that you hadn’t realise that Satoru was already pulling his sweatpants away, his cock quickly replacing his fingers.

“Let’s see who is better at fucking you now, hm?” Satoru smirked as he rubbed his cock on your slit, teasing you and causing you to moan into Suguru’s mouth.

“Good girl.” Suguru muttered in between kisses, one warm palm sneaking underneath your shirt to feel your soft chest, rubbing and teasing your nipples till the harden under the friction and arousal he was providing you with.

“Yeah, be a good girl and prove that I can fuck you better.” Satoru hummed. Teasing you further, you squirmed and tried to push yourself against him.

“Eager, aren’t you? Don’t worry, i’ll give you what you deserve.”

Groaning, Satoru’s big, cold hands found their way to the sides of your hips as he slowly pushed into you, eliciting a moan from you.

As soon as he was adjusted, Satoru began fucking you with no restraint, his hips thrusting into yours roughly and making the bed squeak.

By now, you were a moaning mess as Satoru reached over to tease your clit. Grabbing you by the ankles, he placed them on his strong shoulders, allowing him to thrust into you deeper.

“Aren’t you gonna shut her up?” Satoru panted as he continued pounding into you. Tears were streaming down your face as both men teased and fucked you into tomorrow, moaning at every thrust Satoru made while pleading for your boyfriend to stop teasing you.

“I’d love for her to scream and beg while I fuck her, but if that’s what you want, fine by me.” Suguru chuckled as he pulled away from your bruised lips, a string of saliva adding to the evidence of his abuse on your lips.

“Satoru thinks you’re too noisy, let’s fix that, shall we?” Suguru gave you a smile so sweet that if you weren’t in this predicament you would’ve completely melt and be fooled by that damn smile.

Gently placing your head on the bed, Suguru got up on his knees. Pulling his sweatpants down and revealing his cock dripping with precum, Suguru grabbed you by the cheeks. Without warning, he inserted his whole length into your warm, wet mouth.

“Be a good girl and suck like how I taught you.” Suguru commanded, one hand grabbing your wrists while the other held your head in position.

Moving however he liked, you were left a mess as Satoru and Suguru both fucked you simultaneously, each desperate to prove the other wrong.

As Satoru continued to bury himself deeper into you, saliva trickled from the sides of your mouth and mingled with the sweat and tears on your skin as Suguru grunted, sweat glistening on his skin, the loose bun he had tied his hair in coming undone with each thrust.

Sensing that he was close to release, Satoru snapped your attention back to him as he rubbed on your clit, fucking you even harder as his hands gripped your ankles tightly.

“Who’s a good girl?” Satoru panted, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier with each second passing.

Sensing a familiar knot forming in the pit of your stomach, you moaned around Suguru, warning Satoru that you were close.

“Fuck.” Suguru cursed as the vibration of your moan hit his cock. Eager to release at the same time his best friend does, Suguru buried himself into you with no regard, as if using as a nothing but a toy.

“Gonna cum.” Satoru warned, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your exposed skin.

You struggled and arched your back as Satoru sped up, chasing his release.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. You want me to cum in you, baby? I bet you’ll look so sexy with my kids inside you. Maybe then I’ll fuck you even more.” Satoru groaned.

“Do that and i’ll kill you.” Suguru warned as he panted, his eyes fixed on the dirty action of his cock sliding in and out of your cute little mouth.

“I dare you.” Satoru groaned.

Reaching to grab you by the hips, Satoru’s fingers dug deep into your sides as he stilled himself, his cum painting your walls white the same time you reached your peak. As you screamed through your hoarse throat, you were sure that there would be bruises on your hips by tomorrow.

Soon after, Suguru followed, releasing his load into your mouth and a string of curses fell from his lips, tears steaming down once again as you looked up at your boyfriend through blurry eyes.

“Not done yet.” Suguru panted as he grabbed you, causing you to be on all fours while facing his best friend as he positioned his cock with you wet cunt.

With a easy push, Suguru was inside you thanks to how wet Satoru made you. Without waiting for you to adjust to his size, strong hands gripped the sides of your hips once again, and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the room again.

“You think this slut can take the both of us in the same hole?” Satoru wondered aloud as he fondled your bouncing tits, his cock hardening again as he watched your tight little hole get destroyed by your boyfriend.

“Perhaps. No harm in trying. Right, baby?” Suguru bit your earlobe.

“Fuck. How did you bag her? Did you threaten her to do what you say and be your sex slave?” Satoru teased lazily as one hand reached to his erect cock, giving himself a few pumps as the other continued its assult on your soft breasts, teasing and pinching the soft and supple flesh ever so occasionally.

“That’s fucking rude.” Was all your boyfriend could manage out as he was sucked into the image of you taking him so well just like he taught you.

“Be a good girl for Satoru, okay?” At this point, all you could manage out was pitiful moans and nods as you brace yourself for Satoru’s entrance. You felt a palm strike you on your ass, but you weren’t sure who it was. All you could do was focus on getting fucked by your boyfriend and his best friend.

You thought you were ready to take the two men in the same hole, but Satoru’s cock spreading you even further told you otherwise. Very soon, the two men were using you like a cocksleeve, both of them creating a rhythm.

“So fucking dirty.” Satoru chuckled. Pressing two fingers inside you, he scooped out any cum that was dripping down the now soaked bedsheets. What was originally a small get together turned into a cum-filled threesome, the smell of sex lingering in the air as the sheets beneath the three of you were wet with tears, sweat, and cum. Both men were now chasing their own orgasm, two pairs of hands grabbing your ass and playing with your bundle of nerves.

“Her mouth seems so lonely.” Satoru cooed, seeing how you were desperately begging for them to go faster, wanting to orgasm before you collapse. “Maybe we should’ve called Nanami over to join this party too. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking care of a slut like you.” Satoru panted as he gave your ass a stinging slap.

With the two men picking up their pace now, the oh so familiar grunts and pants of your lover and his friend served as the signal for their approaching orgasm. As Suguru and Satoru both came without warning, cum dripped from your abused hole down your legs. Snaking a hand over to your lower belly, Suguru pressed down on your womb, causing you to cum suddenly around the both of them. Almost immediately you collapsed onto the bed head first, your cum-filled ass high in the air for the two men to see.

“You look so fucking hot like this, my love.” Suguru smiled at you as he came down from his high, the three of you panting and heaving harshly.

“Really sexy.” Satoru murmured as he sucked on the insides of your thighs, pushing back any cum that trickled out.

~~~

“So, who fucked you better?” Satoru teased as you laid in between the both of them with your head on Suguru’s arm. Satoru propped himself up with an elbow, his lips planting tender kisses on your hand.

You were too spent to answer him, but Satoru wasn’t letting it go.

“Tell us, princess. Who made you feel better?”

“Sugu...” Was all you managed out as your eyelids fluttered under the weight of your sleepiness.

“Not me, huh?” Satoru pouted.

“Give it a rest already.” Suguru sighed in response, his fingers combing the tangles out of your hair as you snuggled against his chest. “I’m her boyfriend after all.”

“Then i think someone needs to be re-educated, don’t you agree?” Satoru snickered as he absentmindedly drew circles on your thigh.

One day, Satoru thought. He’ll make you his one day.

#anime #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk gojou #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen nanami

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑨𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏 (𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛)× 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 (𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆)

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝑭𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝑳𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝑫𝒂𝒅 𝑨𝑼

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 3K+

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕-𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒎 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝑺𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 (𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈), 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒙 (𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏)

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @multidreams-and-desires @yunhoiseyecandy

𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 𝒃𝒚 @vocalyunho 's diamond anon.

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

San let out a small cooing sound as he watched the baby in his arms gobble down the milk in his bottle at an increasingly fast speed. Gently, he pulled the bottle away to give the infant time to swallow what he had without having any sort of accidents occur. The baby, not appreciating having his dinner taken away from him, let out a displeased squeal, fist raising up in the air while his legs began to kick out in frustration. Chuckling softly, San adjusted him so he wouldn't accidentally drop him or the bottle, the latter which would probably conclude in the child throwing a full blown tantrum.

"There there. I know you're a little glutton, but I can't let you drink all the milk in one go. I'm still traumatized from the time it all went to your lungs."

Whimpering softly, the boy's fist relaxed and began to clasp and unclasp itself as it tried to reach for the bottle. With a small pout forming on his face, San gave in and once again placed the rubber sucker near his son's mouth, which immediately opened and began gurgling down the lactose contents in the bottle. Withing seconds, the baby finished his meal. Holding him up, San began to pat him on the back, a satisfied smile on his face when his son emitted the faintest burp out of his throat.

"Ok, you're fed, your diaper was changed 15 minutes ago, am I missing something?"

The baby remained quiet as usual, unable to yet respond to his father's inquiry.

"I'll take that as a no then."

Kissing the top of his head and nuzzling his nose against the baby's, San moved over to where the crib was, ready to put the baby inside it so he could sleep. He carefully layed him down and pulled the blue Eeyore blanket Yeosang had gotten for him. Grabbing one of the tiny stuffed plushies, San tucked it under the baby's arm.

"Now you have a sleeping buddy."

Looking at the plush with a grimace, the baby threw the plush rather hard, hitting San on the side of his face.

"Damn son. A simple I don't like it would have sufficed."

He looked around, searching for something that he would like, but unlike himself who adored any plushie, his son was rather picky about his sleeping companions. As he was bending down to look in the treasure chest containing all his toys, he immediately shot up when he heard the baby let out a tiny shriek, nearly tripping on himself as he went to inspect what was the problem. San blinked slowly as the baby currently had his arms latched around Byeol's neck, rubbing his cheek on the top of her furry head, mouth opening up in a squealing giggle when her ears tickled along his nose. The siamese seemed completely unbothered by this, her eyes closing as her paw rested on the infant's tummy, a soft and low purr barely audible unless one payed close attention. Scratching under her chin, San smiled down at the heart fluttering image.

"Thank you for taking over babygirl."

After she let out a tiny meow, San now made his way out of the nursery to go into the adjoining room next to it, making sure to leave the door cracked open a little in case anything happened. He made so little noise as he entered the bedroom that his wife didn't even notice him as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hands poking around her belly area, a dissatisfied look on her face. San breathed out a disheartened sigh through his nose as he knew very well what was probably going through her mind. Slowly he came up behind her, startling her when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Hey beautiful." He greeted her with a kiss to her temple, a light giggle coming out from him.

Forcing a small smile onto her face, she gently moved his hands away from where they were, looking down embarrassingly.

"Let's go to sleep."

Saying those 4 words, Y/N crossed her arms protectively across her chest. Getting into the bed, she layed on her side, facing away from San yet again as she had been doing the past few days. Laying next to her, he scooted his body closer to hers. When she tried to shrink away from his touch, he merely pulled her against him, fingers brushing some of her fallen hair out of her shoulder. His lips began to pepper tiny butterfly kisses across her bare skin, starting from the top of her shoulder and working his way to her neck. Y/N shifted slightly, all those months of not being touched like that since she got pregnant and after having the baby suddenly made her aware how needy she was, how much she craved for San to touch her, hold her, fill her up once again.

But when he moved his hand back towards her stomach, she felt self conscious and pulled away from him.

"San .....please don't." She pleaded at him, her eyes already brimming with tears.

Shocked by her refusal, San sat up.

"Darling what's wrong? Please tell me." He asked her.

Y/N let out a tiny huff.

"Just forget about it....it's stupid anyways."

Frowning slightly, San reached a hand out to stroke his wife's cheek. His stroke was extremely delicate, as if he was caressing a fragile and valuable vessel that could break at any moment. In a way, that's what Y/N was to him.

"Is it cause you don't love your body? Are you self conscious after having the baby?"

Whipping her head around, she wiped some of the fallen tears off her eyes.

"How did you..?"

"I'm not dumb or oblivious Y/N. I see the way you look at yourself in the mirror sometimes." He answered her.

Feeling even worse, Y/N sank back down on the bed, lip quivering in an attempt to stop herself from crying.

"I'm fat and ugly aren't I?"

Hearing her talk about herself with such disdainful comments broke San's heart. Moving himself so he was hovering above her body, he cupped both of her cheeks and looked her straight in the eye.

"You're not fat and you're certainly not ugly. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life and will ever see. And I'm sorry that I failed in not letting you believe that..."

Stooping his face down, he captured her lips in a yearning kiss that had both of their hearts fluttering like the first time they had ever kissed each other. San did not pull away for a long time and when he did, it was only to peck her lips a couple times as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"So let me do that right now."

As he began to kiss along her jawline, Y/N tilted her head back and ran her fingers through his hair.

"San-Sannie? Could you please turn off the light though?" She hesitantly asked.

Letting out a smug laugh, San pushed himself up so he could pull the blankets off their bodies.

"Sorry darling. Tonight I want to see all of you with no covers and in full light. Let me see your entire beauty."

San's hands worked quickly to remove all the articles of clothing that covered Y/N's body. Once her panties were discarded onto the pile on the floor, he looked back at his wife and took in the sight of her naked. Harshly sucking in a breath, he bit down on his lower lip and released a low moan.

"Fuck it's been way too long. Far too long if you ask me."

Tilting her head to allow him easier access, Y/N was already melting from San's kisses across her neck. His hands were already groping down on her breasts, feeling squishier and more tender due to all the milk they had been producing since pregnancy. As soon as his thumbs began tweaking at her nipples, she arched her back and stifled back a whimper, but San's ears still caught it.

"They're really sensitive aren't they love?" His eyes looked up at her as his tongue teasingly swiped across one of her sensitive buds.

Y/N's head nodded in a needy way. Her hands cupped San's chin to press his face against her chest, her swollen breast nearly smothering him. Letting out a heavy groan, San squished her boobs together, watching them jiggle against each other. He'd release them to watch as they bounced against her body before picking them up again.

"Fucking hell, they got so damn huge." He licked his lips.

Taking hold of his hands, Y/N guided his movements so he could massage them as she wanted him to. As Y/N looked up at her husband, she felt shy about what she was about for ask him to do. Seeing her bite down on her lip, San knew there was something on her mind. Bending over to kiss along the sides of her neck, his warm breath ghosted near her ear.

"Tell me what you want babygirl, I want to fulfill your desires." His voice lowered significantly, making her pool even more in between her thighs.

"Sannie...please suck my tits."

Pulling back, he looked at her with a worried expression, no doubt wondering if it would be ok. Pecking his lips, she began to calm his worries.

"It'll be fine, just please, wanna feel your mouth around them."

Not needing any further coercion, San dipped his face and buried his face in her breasts. First paying attention to one, he began kissing it as the other hands fondled the other one. Slowly he opened his mouth and latched it down onto her nipple, giving it an experimental suckle before going any further. Noticing the way she inhaled deeply and pushed her chest more outwards, he then took more of her of in his mouth. Relaxing his jaw, he continued a pattern of flicking and swiping his tongue around her areolas before gripping in his palms and fingertips as sucking sounds come out of his mouth. Soon enough, he felt a thin, watery liquid start to come out of her. Y/N couldn't help but giggle as her husband moaned out an 'oh my god' before his mouth began pumping more of her breast milk out of her body. His oral ministrations on her nipple became more languidly as he was savoring the sweet fluid that he gulped down his throat. Not just San, Y/N's breathing became more ragged and she felt more aroused than she wanted to admit.

"Sannie, don't forget to pay attention to the other one." She reminded as she petted his hair.

Switching over to the other side, this time the latching of his lips was more sloppy and his suckling more desperate. It seemed he couldn't get enough of her milk. Muffled grunts and moans could be heard whenever he gave a particular long suck at her skin. He never imagined that feeding on Y/N's lactating milk could turn him on so much. Releasing her nipple with a loud popping sound, he panted as some of the white liquid trickled down his chin.

"Now I understand why our son is always hungry."

They both couldn't help but laugh softly at his cute little joke. Even as he began peppering kisses down her sternum to her stomach, he was still a giggling mess. Once he got to her lower abdomen, he took his time to trace each and every stretch mark that adorned it. Although he knew she hated them, he thought they were remarkably beautiful, even more so since he knew how she got them. He made sure to kiss all around that part of her body with tenderness and adoration.

"I don't know why you hide them. They're gorgeous...."

Pausing, he looked back up at her, a light twinkle in his eyes as he smiled fondly to her.

"You're gorgeous. Absolutely stunning."

Blushing intensely, Y/N couldn't help but hide her face with her hands

"Really?" She piped out.

Stooping down once again, San dragged his mouth along her hips bones.

"Yes. Even more so now. I still can't believe that you actually carried our son in here, I'm still amazed you did. And these scars..."

Tracing along the lines, he couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face.

"Are a reminder that you did. And everytime I see them, I'll remember all those months of waiting and taking care of you until you gave me the greatest present you could give me. Thank you love."

Feeling overcome with emotions, Y/N couldn't help but let tears fall down her cheeks at her husband's words. Not yet finished with his praises, San now began kissing up her inner thighs, teeth grazing along the most sensitive parts of her skin.

"You have no idea how crazy I am about you. Even after all this time, I still want you like the first day I saw you. Hell I think I desire you even more now than back then love. I go insane every time I look at you. I can't believe you're all mine."

Pushing her legs up, his hands firmly gripped the back of her thighs as his face began to dive into her glistening cavern.

"All mine."

Y/N couldn't keep her body from jolting up when San's tongue licked up her folds. Every swipe of his tongue along her slit had her toes curling. She couldn't remember the last time he had eaten her out this way. She couldn't help but buck her hips up against his face whenever his mouth opened and closed over her clit, the humming sounds he was making sending waves of shock up her body. San didn't mind at all when her fingers began to harshly tug at his hair, it only made him smile in satisfaction against her mound. By the way her thighs were trying to close around his head, he knew she was definitely enjoying herself. The lewd whimpering she was releasing was further indication that she was about to spill herself onto him at any moment and although San would have loved nothing more than to have her cum all over his face, he really preferred something else right now.

With great effort, he detached his mouth from her core, chuckling in a teasing manner when Y/N's mouth dropped open, looking somewhat pissed by the fact he denied her the much anticipated orgasm she hadn't felt in a long time. Pulling his shirt over his head, San licked his lips and winked at the woman underneath him, whose eyes sprang up when he rid himself of his bottoms and his erect cock sprang free.

"Missed this darling?"

He teased her as he ran the head along her folds, coating it with her slick to act as extra lubrication for them. Propping herself up on her elbows to get a better view of him pushing inside her, both of them spewed out hisses and small mutters when his member was fully sheathed inside her walls.

"Ok hold on....give me a second....fuck! It's been way too long."

Y/N could only let out a groan in agreement to his words. Once they both settled down, San began a rather tame and mellow pace, pulling out completely before stuffing himself back inside her. Her legs were already trembling everytime he pushed back in, his tip rubbing against her g-spot due to the way he angled his hips upwards. His fingers were harshly digging into her thighs, surely about to leave tiny purple marks on the days to come. Y/N's hands reached upwards to grip on San's forearms as she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Sannie...please... faster."

Halting his movements briefly, San took hold of her legs and wrapped them around his waist, a sinister smile on his face.

"Don't say you didn't ask for it."

Her breath got caught in her throat when he began slamming his hips against hers, back arching and breasts bouncing with every thrust he was making. San felt like he was in heaven once more, feeling his lover clench around his length as the two became connected as one yet again. He missed the euphoric feeling of both giving and receiving such an overwhelming pleasure. He couldn't contain the heavy panting coming out of his mouth although he tried to keep his voice down so as to not wake up the baby sleeping in the next room. Thumb reaching down, he began to circle it around Y/N's pink nub, making her flinch and tremble at the added sensation.

"San! I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that!" She warned him.

"Oh? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock? Make a mess all over me?"

Throwing her head back into the pillow, Y/N shut her eyes tightly, mouth struggling to stifle back whimpered shrieks as San hit harder and deeper in her.

"San- don't t-tease me.." She said through tear stained eyes.

"Trust me I'm not love. Just wanna make you feel good, have you cum all over me and then spill my load into you."

Growling softly, he placed his hand on top of her stomach, gently caressing it with his fingers as he looked down at his partner.

"Gonna cum inside you once more love. Gonna fill this pussy up with my seed and get you knocked up again. Would you like that?"

"Oh my-" Y/N clutched at the sheets underneath her, feeling herself on the brink of toppling over the edge due to his dirty talk.

"Yeah you want that? I'll make sure you're pregnant again. Looking all pretty and cute with a swollen belly once again. Carrying another child of mine. Fuck!"

Unable to hold back anymore, San frantically plunged himself deeper in her walls quickly sending them both over the edge at the same time. Y/N's legs quivered and her body shook uncontrollably as the long forgotten feeling of a high took over her completely. San couldn't help but chant out a series of 'oh my gods' as his hips sputtered and he coated her pussy with his cum that gushed out and filled her to the brim, some of it spurting out as he continued to move inside her, helping them both ride out their orgasms.

Movements getting slower until stopping completely, San leaned down to kiss Y/N once again, fervently and passionately.

"I love you so much." He declared, a wide smile sprawling across his handsome face.

"I know....I love you too San."

San kissed her forehead before rolling over and pulling her on top of him.

"You're absolutely perfect darling. Don't ever forget that." He complimented her.

Although she felt embarrased and shy at his words, she played it off with a light scoff and roll of her eyes.

"Are you just saying that so that I'll agree to another round?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I mean...... I'm not saying no...and we do have all night." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"He might wake up at any moment now." She nudged her head towards the direction of the nursery.

"Oh don't worry about him, Byeol's taking over night shift tonight."

Y/N let out a squeak when San sat up and positioned her on top of his cock before sliding her down on it.

"And I'm not done with making love to the most beautiful woman in the world."

ღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღღ¸.✻´`✻.¸¸ღ

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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years

Text

Requested by my lovely 😈 anon long long time ago. Thank you for your request, my dearest💚

Pairing: Diavolo x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mention of alcohol, language, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie

Surprisingly, Diavolo doesn’t know how to drink. It was a nice cozy evening - the humid heat of Naples subsided as the sun went down, fresh air that poured into apartment through the open window felt comfortably cooling against the skin, calming stirred mind and finally allowing to make a deep breath without feeling sweat dripping down your face. So, the weather was just fine and you decided to make a romantic dinner with some candles and soft music playing for you and your beloved

But who could think that just three goblets of wine can make redoubtable Don of Italian mafia laying a babbling fuddled mess on the bed, completely lost and out of his usual state of mind. You sigh sadly, watching man trailing his hands in the air as he mumbles something quietly. Diavolo’s drunk body is sprawled across fresh white sheets of your shared bad, his pink hair is scattered above his head, beautifully contrasting with bright linen

You turn your gaze to the window, enjoying the breathtaking view on the Gulf of Naples when you suddenly feel Diavolo’s arms, adorned with serpentine tattoos, seizing up around your abdomen. His groin hits your ass when he scoots closer, and you don’t miss the way he rubs up against your body

- Heeey baby. How you doin’? - Diavolo drawls into your ear, nibbling on the shell and licking it shortly as his hands shamelessly roam your body. His hot breath tickles sensitive skin of your cheek when you feel one of pink-haired’s hands groping your breast, molding it through layers of your shirt and bra

You scoff at Diavolo’s clearly stupid question, tilting your head backwards and resting it on pink-haired’s muscular shoulder. You leave a few kisses on his cheek, sweet scent of shampoo that comes from man’s hair makes you feel dizzy. You raise your hand, combing your fingers through Diavolo’s pink, slightly knotted locks

Large, slightly cold hands invade under your baggy shirt, getting under the cups of your bra, squeezing the soft pudge and playing with dark nipples, causing heat to pool bottom of your belly. Diavolo jerks his pelvis up and down against your butt, panting heavily against your ear, inhaling scent of your skin

Pink-haired slips his free hand into your pants, nimble fingers quickly get under your underwear, drawing circles around your hooded clit. Soft moan leaves your lungs, your back arches so that your ass bumps tighter into Diavolo’s groin. That makes man groan quietly against your ear as he starts impudently grinding up against your body

You do quick work to the buttons of your shirt and just a few moments later silk garment lays piled on the floor. You turn around to face tall girthy man standing behind you, drunk smile stretches Diavolo’s lips when his eyes meet yours. Man leans forward, intending to give you a deep fervid kiss, but pink-haired ignominiously fails, missing your mouth and smearing his lips along your cheek

Your eyes roll in slight irritation, you cup Diavolo’s face in your hands, pruning centimeters between your faces, and your lips finally meet in a slow, sloppy kiss. Your tongues messily tangle together and you feel pink-haired sliding one of his big hands to your back, undoing your bra. Once your breasts are freed from the captivity of expensive underwear, man’s hands literally glue to them, squeezing and kneading pliable flesh, playing mindlessly with erected nipples

You break your kiss, leading Diavolo to the bed and pushing him onto soft mattress, then resting yourself comfortably on top of him, your ass pressed firmly against the bulge in pink-haired’s trousers. Man’s hands come up to your neck, putting a little bit of force to make you lean down, captivating your mouth with his in another sloppy kiss

You move your pelvis a few times, imitating real thrust, and Diavolo just melts underneath you. The feeling of his dick jerking against your clothed groin makes him grip desperately on your thighs, moving his hips upwards to get more of this blissful friction. You chuckle at his eager actions, leaving loud smooch on Diavolo’s forehead before pulling back and up of him to take your and his clothes off

Now completely naked you return to your place on Diavolo’s laps, taking his stiff cock into your hand, faintly squeezing it, softly stroking his shaft. Pink-haired whimpers at your actions, bucking his pelvis upwards, sliding his dick between your clenched fist

You decide not to torment your man anymore and give him what he wants so desperately, scooting away long enough to align pink swollen head of Diavolo’s cock with your fluttering hole, slowly gliding down his stiff length. Pink-haired hisses through clenched teeth, pushing his pelvis upwards, forcing himself into your squelching warmth to the hilt, making you squeal in surprise

Diavolo rests his hands on top of your thighs, gliding his fingers all over your soft skin, leaving white trails left from his nails. You make a first thrust, sliding up man’s dick and then pulling back down on him, and you feel his cock filling you to the brim. Your pace fastens as you finally adjust to the feeling of your beloved inside of your body, you look at Diavolo’s slightly pink face as he intently looks at your body

Mischievous smile adorns your lips when you follow Diavolo’s gaze, realizing that he watches your boobs bouncing along with ups and downs of your hips. For some reason your chest always has been man’s favorite part of your body, even when sleeping together he has his palm groping one of your tits

Diavolo digs his nails into soft skin of your thighs as he moves his hips upwards to meet yours, penetrating even deeper than before. You feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, his thick shaft mashes your gspot so right, making you moan lecherously. You circle your hips just like man likes it, sliding down Don’s veiny dick, wet sounds of sex and your moans mixed with pink-haired’s panting are pleasant to hear

You grip on your breasts, playing with sensitive nipples as Diavolo knocks his hips into yours, his cock nudging deep inside your squishy dripping pussy. With every new thrust he buries himself deeper and deeper into you, stuffing you full of his cock. You whimper at his actions, your thighs start trembling in anticipation of close orgasm

Just a few seconds later your mouth falls agape in intense pleasure as heat suffuses you body, intense orgasm washes over your trembling form as Diavolo’s dick keeps gliding in your sweet cunny, making you call out his name. Clamping of your walls around his sensitive cock brings pink-haired over the edge, flooding your fluttering pussy with his thick white cum

Don growls quietly as he thrusts up roughly inside you a few last times, riding out your orgasms. You exhale loudly, collapsing on top of Diavolo, listening to his heart beating fast in his chest. Man tangles his fingers into your hair, massaging your scalp idly, and you relish in all the affection he gives you like a big cat

But a few minutes later man stops his frictions, leaving you without his attention. You rise up a little, ready to burst out with complains, but not a sound leave your lips when you see his calm face, eyes shut tigh. Diavolo fell asleep. With his dick inside of you. You sight, slightly upset, looking around and seeing all the mess you two made. Well, you guess you gotta clean it up by yourself now

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

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btssavedmylifeblr · 4 years

Text

Tongue Tied (M)

Genre: SMUT, fluff, crack, demon au (sort of), idol verse, established relationship au, pwp with a side of minor relationship angst

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count:12k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex, orgasm denial, masturbation, squirting, sex toys, dirty talk, degradation, bladder desperation and brainwashing

A/N: So… this is porn. Apologies to everyone, especially Park Jimin. Blame my anons who goaded me into it. Love you all! Stay hydrated.

Jimin's tongue trails a warm circle around your erect nipple.

"Stop teasing," you groan, threading your fingers through his dark hair and tugging him closer to you.

Jimin obliges, spreading his tongue across the perky bud, sucking it into his mouth, massaging with his lips. Flames of arousal rush through you. His fingers move from your hip to your lower folds, dipping into you, checking how wet you are. He releases your breast and smirks, holding up his fingers to show you the translucent strings stretching between them. "So eager.”

He laves kisses across your throat. His tongue alternates between firm and soft, sucking just to the point of pain, then soothing it away. He moves downward, sliding you up the bed as he works his way toward your swollen center. Every place his tongue touches burns with desire.

Your core throbs as he draws closer and closer to it. Despite dating for six months, Jimin has never gone down on you. The place you most want his talented tongue is the one place it has never been. In the beginning of your relationship, you had assumed oral sex was something he had accidentally overlooked. But now it was starting to seem deliberate.

Jimin sucks a hard kiss onto your hip as he slips his finger back between your folds, spreading your arousal up to your clitoris. He draws a slow circle around the sensitive nub, laughing softly against your belly when you moan out loud.

The closer he gets, the more your desperation builds. You tighten your fingers in his hair to coax him farther down. He pushes your folds apart with his hand, bringing his face in close to inspect your swollen cunt, chuckling as it clenches. Your clit pulses as you wait for him to bring his mouth to it.

But then he's pulling away from you, sitting back on his heels. "I'm going to fuck you now.” He holds you open with one hand and strokes his dick with the other. You bite your lip to hide your disappointment and nod.

There's nothing disappointing about Jimin's dick though. He knows how to use it well. It's not until you're both sweaty, sated and lying in each other's arms that you remember your earlier disappointment.

"Jimin?" You trail a finger over his chest. "Can I ask you a question?"

He gives a soft murmur of assent as he presses a contented kiss to your forehead. His hand strokes lazily up and down your arm.

"Why do you never go down on me?"

His hand stops moving.

You press on. "I blow you all the time, but you never go down on me."

"I don't know.” He shifts underneath you, his eyes not meeting your gaze. "Just like other stuff better."

"Well, sure," you reply, kissing his chest. It had never been your favorite activity either, always making you a bit self-conscious. But it was quickly becoming the thing you most wanted, simply because he wouldn't let you have it. "But it's always fun to try new things."

He continues to duck your gaze as he unwraps his arm from you and scoots away from you over to his side of the bed.

Maybe he was insecure about this particular activity? You slide in next to him and kiss his shoulder. "I bet you'd be really good at it.”

He shifts away from you again, frowning as you continue to chase him across the bed. "I just don't like it, okay?"

Your mouth falls open in shock. It’s such an un-Jimin-like reaction. He's always so generous with everything in your relationship.

"Why?" Did he have some terrible previous experience he didn't want to discuss? What kind of traumatic cunnilingus backstory would leave him this turned off?

"I don't know." He rolls over so his back is to you. "Can't you drop it?"

"No, I'm not going to drop it!" You sit up and nudge his shoulder. "Are you saying you'll never do it?"

He turns back over to face you, licking his lips. "Would you break up with me if I was?"

"What?"

"How big of a deal is it?"

"I don't know." It never occurred to you that you might face a relationship ultimatum over oral sex. You’re madly in love with Jimin. He’s the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. Surely that matters more than how much time he spends between your legs.

"Is there something wrong with me?" you ask. Did you taste bad? Smell funky?

“No!" Jimin's eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no, it’s just...” He sits up, sighing as he leans back against the headboard. "I was waiting to tell you this until we'd been together a bit longer." He runs a hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts.

What secret has your boyfriend been keeping from you all this time? Does he have some weird STD that is only spread through oral? Is he allergic to vagina?

"My tongue is cursed." He rubs the back of his neck, sighing as if relieved of some terrible burden.

You laugh out loud. Of all the explanations you had concocted, none were as ludicrous as this.

"Don't laugh." Jimin frowns, kicking the bed.

"Your tongue is cursed?" It's impossible to not laugh when you say it out loud. "Like by a witch?"

"No, not by a witch, don't be absurd." He squirms and pulls his knees up to his chest. "I'm part demon."

You snort in laughter again. But Jimin looks so hurt by the sound that you bite your tongue.

"My great-grandfather on my father's side was a demon,” Jimin elaborates, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, are you serious?” You arch an eyebrow, afraid of appearing to actually believe him just for him to tease you.

Jimin groans in frustration, twisting the bedsheets in his hands. "I didn't believe my mom when she told me either. But it's true. My grandmother swore it was true."

"Let me get this straight." You sit up a bit straighter, eyeing him skeptically. "The reason you won't go down on me is that you are one-eighth demon, and your tongue is cursed."

He bites his lip and nods.

"Jimin, that's ridiculous."

His shoulders slump as he curls in on himself. You're still waiting for the "gotcha!" you think is coming, but he looks sad and embarrassed.

"Fine," you sigh, willing to hear him out. "What kind of demon?"

He picks his head up and licks his lips. "An incubus."

"Your great-grandfather devoured the souls of women through sex?"

Jimin shifts back and forth, rubbing his hands up and down his legs. "Grandma said he was very handsome."

Your boyfriend is very handsome too. But that doesn't mean he's part demon.

"He didn't hurt anyone." Jimin tries to defend his clearly fictional demon great-grandfather. "He just, you know, hooked up with a lot of women."

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "So which parts of you are demon then?"

"Just my tongue."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious! Look!" He sticks his tongue out as far as it will go. It's very long, reaching all the way to his chin. And it's pointy. But it seems to be a perfectly normal tongue.

"It doesn't look cursed to me."

"It's so long though," he mumbles, having difficulty pronouncing the words with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah, but not like supernaturally long." You argue, leaning in closer to inspect the potentially cursed muscle. He wiggles it back and forth as if that will convince you there's something unusual about it. "What does that even mean, a cursed tongue?"

Jimin draws in a deep breath, as if about to reveal a deep, dark secret.

"Any girl that I get off with my tongue…“ He pauses for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes, “can never come again."

His proclamation hangs in the air of your bedroom, as he waits for you to gasp in shock. You raise an eyebrow instead. "Ever?"

"Except!" He holds up a finger. "On my tongue."

You can't hold back the laughter this time. "So is there some horde of perpetually horny women out there, dying to experience your tongue again?"

He shakes his head and chews on his lower lip. "I've never done it with anyone before." He begins twisting the bedsheets in his hands again. "I didn't want to risk it being true. My mom was really serious when she explained it."

"That's an awkward conversation to have with your mother."

Jimin finally laughs. "Yes, yes it was."

His change in demeanor brings you some relief. But it can't be true. There's no such thing as demons.

"You sure you're not making up excuses to not reciprocate?"

"I'm not making it up!" Jimin smacks the bed in emphasis. "I'm dying to go down on you!"

"You are?" Your earlier arousal knocks between your legs again.

"Yes!" He pushes his hair off his forehead. "Every time I get down there, all I want to do is suck on your needy little clit." Your core clenches and you squirm on the bed next to him. He eyes you up and down and smirks. "To make you fall apart with my tongue." He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close enough to whisper in your ear. "To be surrounded by you as you come on my face."

"Would it be so bad if we tried it?" you ask, squeezing your thighs together to cope with the tension building between them.

"You'd want that?" His eyes widen and he licks his lips in excitement. "Even if the curse is real?"

"Yes, I'd want that." He's so excited that you don't have the heart to tell him that there's no way the curse is real.

Jimin giggles with delight, gathering your hands into his. "You know I love you right?" He kisses each of your hands. "I love you so much."

"I love you too Jimin," you reply and he pulls you in for a long kiss. His reaction would make you think he'd asked you to marry him.

"We can't do it tonight though," he mutters, frowning. “I’m leaving tomorrow."

Shit. The boys are leaving for their world tour tomorrow. A fact that has slipped your mind in the whole your-boyfriend-might-be-a-demon discussion.

"What better way to say goodbye?" You whisper, leaning in and planting light kisses up and down his neck. You're not going to let some weird family legend stand in the way of your boyfriend getting you off one more time before he disappears for a month.

"You sure?" Jimin raises an eyebrow. "A month is a long time to go."

"I think I'll survive." You've dealt with Jimin's absences before. You don’t like them, but you can’t admit to him how much they bother you. And curses aren't real.

Jimin's whole attitude changes, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. "Yeah?" He kisses your neck as his hand sneaks down between your legs. You're still sensitive and wet and you flinch when he slips his fingers into you, your arms breaking out in goosebumps. "Is this where you want my tongue?" he teases as his index finger brushes against your clitoris.

"Jimin, please," you whine. He pulls his hand back, but you slide your hips forward, chasing after him. You've been waiting for months and all he wants to do is tease.

"So needy..." The smirk on his lips and predatory gleam in his eyes have you almost believing he is a demon. "It's like you want to give me all your orgasms."

"Curses aren't real," you gasp as he sucks a long kiss into your neck.

"Maybe you don't care if it's real." He trails kisses downward. "Maybe you want me to claim all your pleasure for myself." It's embarrassing the way more arousal drips from you at the idea. "Maybe you want to be alone and desperate, unable to satisfy yourself without me."

It's probably your mind playing tricks on you, but his mouth feels hotter than usual. It burns everywhere he touches you. He pauses his trail downward to suck on your nipple and you arch your back to press into him further.

"I like that idea," he says, releasing your breast and continuing his burning trail downwards. "That no other man will ever be able to satisfy you." He slips his fingers back inside you and you moan. "No toy, no dick, not even your own fingers will be able to bring you relief." His tongue inches downward, interrupted by lingering kisses. Your core is so swollen with arousal, the ache inside you so desperate. He smiles as he curls two fingers upward, so slowly that your thighs begin to tremble. "Every single one of your orgasms will belong to me."

"Please, Jimin." You're going to lose your mind if he keeps teasing like this. You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get his fingers in deeper.

"Is that what you want?" he asks. His mouth is so close you can feel his warm breath on your sensitive swollen skin. "Do you want to give me all your orgasms?"

He looks so serious when he asks, it almost makes you believe. But curses and demons aren't real. It's just a game. A game you’re both enjoying.

"Yes," you whisper. "I want you to have them all, Jimin."

"Good girl." He closes his eyes and exhales, then finally - finally - brings his mouth to your clitoris.

The surge of heat on the swollen bud almost has you coming the moment he takes it into his mouth.

"Holy shit," you groan, rocking your hips upward.

"Easy..." Jimin soothes, placing a firm hand on your hips to hold you down. "I'll take care of you." Then he buries himself between your legs.

His tongue alternates hard and soft as it strokes your clit. Any reservations he had about this have disappeared with the way he relishes you. He slides his fingers inside you and pairs each stroke of his tongue with internal pressure from his fingers. You pulse with arousal inside and out. You wind your fingers through his soft hair and he groans a deep satisfied rumble.

"Please, please," you beg, tugging him against you as you get closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it." He pulls off one last time to catch his breath. "Let me have it." His thumb rolls slowly over your clit as he watches you from between your thighs. "Come for me. Be mine."

He dives back in, the pace of his fingers curling inside you matching the figure-eights his tongue weaves over your clitoris. Heat radiates from his tongue, burning and tingling, so pleasurable it's almost painful. Warmth spreads through you, flowing into you and flooding up your spine and down to your toes. You tug harder on his hair. The groan he releases sends vibrations throughout your core, pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck, Jimin, I'm coming," you gasp. Your muscles clench around his fingers and your hips rock against his face as waves of pleasure cascade through you. It lasts for an eternity as he keeps stroking you, perfectly in time to the rhythms inside you. He keeps at it until you finally whine and squirm away, everything becoming too much.

"That's my girl." He smiles as he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh and chuckles when your skin trembles in response.

Minutes pass as you recover your breath. Jimin's head is still between your legs, trailing soft kisses up and down your inner thigh. It tickles and you try to squirm away, but his grip on your hips is too tight.

"Jimin," you whine, wiggling beneath him.

He ignores you, trailing his wet fingers up and down your leg.

"You know," he says, resting his chin on your thigh. "If the curse is real..."

"The curse is not real, Jimin.”

"If the curse is real,” he talks over you, pinching your inner thigh and making you jump, “then that was your last orgasm for a month." He looks so pleased with himself, dark eyes full of mischief. Your skin tingles under his hungry gaze and you begin to heat up again. "Seems a shame to leave it at that."

"Jimin," you sigh. "I'm not sure I have another one in me tonight."

"Oh, come on." He dives back into you, bumping his nose into your clitoris and causing your whole body to jolt. "I can't leave you with just one." He nuzzles against you. "How will you manage?"

A slight pang of pain hits you that he’s going to be gone for so long. But you don’t want him to see it, so you play sarcastic. "I have a vibrator."

"You do?"

"How else do you think I deal with your touring schedule?"

"Dirty girl..." He nips playfully at your inner thigh. "Where is it?"

You blush. "Under the bed."

"What?" His eyes widen in surprise. He swings his head over the side of the bed, inspecting underneath it. "There's nothing but shoes down here," he says as he hangs upside-down searching for your vibrator.

"In the Adidas box." You hide your face behind your hands as he climbs off the bed.

"Look at you," he teases. "Hiding sex toys in shoeboxes. You are dirty." He laughs a delighted laugh when he opens the correct box and you curl in on yourself further. He climbs back on top of you, pulling your hands away from your face.

You laugh when you see him, a small bullet vibrator hanging by its cord from between his teeth.

"I want to see it," he says as he drops the vibrator into your hands. "Show me how you get yourself off, if I'm not around to do it."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Two is kind of my max. I don't know if I can."

"I believe in you, sweetheart." Jimin sits back on his heels to watch you, keeping his hand on the controller connected to the vibrator in your hand.

Your heart beats faster as he stares at you. His semi-erect dick dangles between his spread knees.

"Go on," he encourages, turning the vibrator on.

You move the vibrator down between your legs. It makes a spluttering sound as it encounters your wet folds.

"Listen to that." Jimin smiles and scoots forward on his knees, licking his lips. "Listen to how wet you are. I bet you can come again."

The vibrator does feel good against your sensitive skin and watching him watch you fills you with an arousing mix of embarrassment and confidence. The pleasure builds quickly, everything still wound up from your previous orgasm.

He increases the speed on the vibrator. "Are you getting close?" he asks, his own erection rising as he watches you.

You groan and nod, rolling the vibrator in circles across your palm, grinding it into your clitoris. The sounds of the vibrator, the sloppy wetness of your arousal, and your panting breaths fill the room as Jimin waits to watch you come.

But the closer the edge of your pleasure gets, the more distracted you become. He's just sitting there waiting, with that smug grin on his face. What if you can't come? What if he thinks this stupid curse is real? You just came, it's perfectly reasonable that you might not be able to come again right now.

The further you get into your own head, the further your climax drifts away.

"It's not working, is it?" He strokes his now fully erect cock and wiggles his eyebrows. "Need some assistance?" He turns up the vibrations to their maximum setting.

The drive to come surges back as you press harder against yourself with the vibrator and watch him stroke himself. He shuffles forward on his knees, until his dick is right next to your face.

"Suck my cock," he urges, nudging your cheek with his erection. "Do a good job and I'll let you come."

You want to roll your eyes at the suggestion that he has any control over whether or not you come, but his erection is too tempting. You sit up slightly and draw him into your mouth.

"That's a good girl," he groans. "My desperate little cockslut."

He's so hard on your tongue. You let go of the vibrator to angle yourself better. He moans when you sink down so far that your nose bumps into his pubic bone.

"Fuck," he exhales and his hands tremble as he caresses your cheek. "You take it so well." He picks the vibrator back up from where you dropped it onto the bedspread and positions it back between your legs. You jolt and moan, sending vibrations through his dick. He threads his fingers into the hair at the back of your neck, easing you up and down his cock.

You hover at the edge of coming, so debauched and needy and desperate to please him. He rolls the vibrator faster around your clitoris and you're so close. "Can you come for me?" he whispers, stroking your hair. "I want to see you come with my cock in your mouth."

You groan and rock your hips back and forth against his hand, chasing the edge as he guides you up and down his dick. But you can't quite get there. Every time you reach the tipping point, his cock bumps into the back of your throat and you gag.

"You can't do it, can you?" he teases, pace increasing as he gets more and more excited. The vibrator drops to the bed as he uses both hands to grip the back of your head. "You're mine now. All your orgasms are mine," he chokes out as he loses control of himself and comes down your throat, holding you to him and forcing you to swallow his whole release.

His thighs tremble as he sinks down onto the bed. "I love you," he says, kissing your cheek. He folds his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and sighing happily. Your core aches, but Jimin looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Hey!” You poke him in the ribs. "You can't leave me like this."

He opens one eye and laughs. "You admitting that you need me?"

You pout, not wanting to admit anything, but really wanting to get off one last time before bed. He's leaving tomorrow. Just because you want him right now doesn't mean you're cursed.

"Please, Jimin." You nudge the vibrator back into his hand, core clenching again when he takes it from you. "Help me."

"Of course." He smiles and kisses you again, before scooting down the bed and positioning himself between your legs one last time.

"So wet and swollen," he teases, as he traces a finger up and down your labia, chuckling as it twitches.

"Quit teasing," you groan, smacking his hand in irritation.

"Yes, dear." He brings the buzzing vibrator back to your clitoris and your hips buck upward to meet him. You're so close to coming you cry out, reaching out for him and grabbing on to whatever you can reach. One hand grips his shoulder as the other tangles into his hair. "That's it," he murmurs. "Come for me."

His warm wet tongue slides in next to the vibrator and you shatter into a million pieces.

Your fragmented mind floats above you as you tense in pleasure, every muscle contracted as it all becomes too much. You sob as your third orgasm of the night is ripped from you. Jimin massages both the vibrator and his tongue against you, pulling every last drop of arousal from you.

You collapse into a pile of jelly. "Fuck," you breathe out. "That was amazing."

"Glad you enjoyed it." Jimin beams from between your legs, giving one small kiss to your pubic mound before sliding back up and cradling you in his arms. "Hope it was worth it," he mumbles, kissing your forehead as you close your eyes.

You nuzzle into his warm, muscular chest. It certainly seems worth it right now. But curses aren't real. It's the last thing you think before you fall into a deep satisfied sleep. Curses aren't real.

______

You roll over the next morning to find Jimin’s side of the bed empty. Running water in the bathroom tells you he’s already up and getting ready to leave.

There’s a tingle between your legs, an echo of the night before. Your legs and crotch are slick with a mix of saliva, arousal and sweat. It should be disgusting, but it makes you smile mischievously. Memories of last night replay in your mind as you slide your hand down between your legs and contemplate how you got so messy.

The bathroom door is closed. You wiggle over to Jimin’s side of the bed and pick up his phone. It’s 5:30 am. Do you have enough time to talk him into coming back to bed? Your core pulses and you run a teasing finger around it. It’s so sore that it almost hurts to touch it. Almost, but not quite enough to stop you. You miss the heat of his mouth, the possessive way he talked, his groans of pleasure as he consumed you.

“Jimin,” you call out, unable to wait for him any longer.

The running water stops. “Yeah?” he calls out, not opening the door.

“Are you almost done in there?”

“One second.” The water switches back on briefly before he shuts it off and opens the door.

Jimin is shirtless, patting his face dry with a towel. You lick your lips at the sight of him, the tingle between your legs escalating to full ache. He’s dressed in only black slacks, hair wet and tousled from his shower. Your core pulses as you watch a drop of water from his hair drop onto his chest and trail down the muscular planes of his stomach.

His eyes rake over you, making you feel naked despite the covers. You pull your hand away from yourself, embarrassed. Your possibly demonic boyfriend smirks.

“Last night not enough for you?” He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, looking all too pleased with himself. “Greedy girl.”

You want to scoff at him, but your pussy clenches traitorously instead. His dark eyes burn even hotter, as if he knows.

He chuckles. “I’d offer to help you out, but I just washed my face.”

You roll your eyes and squirm under the covers. “There are other ways to help me.” You don’t need his tongue. His fingers or his cock would do just as nicely.

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as he walks over to his nightstand and picks up his phone. “I’ve only got ten minutes before the car arrives though.”

The pang of distress at his leaving returns. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“I thought you could use the rest.” He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. “I didn’t want to wake you earlier than I had to.”

It feels especially hard to say goodbye today. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I bet you will,” he replies, striding across the room to fish a white button-down shirt from the closet, still smirking. “A month is a long time to go.”

“I like more about you than just the sex.” You cross your arms and pout. “Won’t you miss me?”

Jimin laughs brightly as he buttons up his shirt. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Of course, I’ll miss you.” He takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” It doesn’t feel like enough to convey how much you’re going to miss him. But you don’t want to be that needy girl who begs her boyfriend to stay.

He smiles and picks up your hands, lifting them to his lips and kissing the back of each. Then he pauses and sniffs. He can smell the arousal on your hand and you are mortified. His eyes flick back up to your blushing face and he cocks an eyebrow, pleased smirk on his lips. "You sure you don't want my assistance one last time?"

You clench your thighs together and squirm under his heated gaze. "I wouldn't want you to be late." You can always get yourself off after he leaves.

"Yeah," he replies, glancing at his watch. "I should get going." He cups your cheek in his palm, tilting your chin up to give him a kiss goodbye.

You pour all your unspoken longing into your last kiss. His mouth is warm, his lips soft, and when his tongue enters your mouth, your whole body breaks out in droplets of sweat. You thread your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him closer as you moan against his lips.

He laughs as he pulls away from you. "So needy," he teases, wiping his lips with his thumb. "I like it." You want to scoff at how patronizing he sounds, but then he places a soft kiss on your forehead. "Be good for me," he whispers and you can't help the whine you emit as he lets go of you.

What is the matter with you? You've always prided yourself on being a mature adult who was respectful of his schedule, not some hormonal teenager who can't live without her boyfriend. You must be horny. As soon as he leaves, you can solve that problem and go about your day as usual.

You watch Jimin leave, admiring the way the tight black pants show off his best assets. "Hurry back!” you call after him. He blows you a kiss, and then he's gone.

The moment he's gone, you feel colder and emptier. You slide back down under the covers, drawing them up over your shoulders, and sighing broken-heartedly. It's dramatic, but no one is around to see you, so you let yourself wallow for a moment.

The tingle between your legs recaptures your attention. You glance over to the nightstand where your vibrator waits. Your pelvic muscles twitch in excitement. You scoop the vibrator up and sneak it under the bed covers.

You take your time easing into your arousal. You're still sore and sensitive from last night, so you don't go straight for the maximum setting. You tease yourself slowly, like Jimin would. His kiss lingers on your lips. Your fingers miss his soft hair. The vibrator echoes the burning, tingling pleasure of his tongue.

Just as you reach your plateau, cranking the vibrator to the highest setting and settling in for the home stretch, your phone buzzes.

Today 10:35 am

Jimin: What are you doing?

You: Nothing...

Jimin: Nothing? You sure about that? You sure you're not fingering that needy clit right now?

You: I am doing no such thing.

Jimin: You've got the vibrator out then.

You: Fuck. How do you know that?

Jimin: You seemed pretty needy when I left. ;)

You: Where are you?

Jimin: Pulling into the airport.

You groan out loud. The idea of him texting you filth while surrounded by his members made you flush with heat. You ignore him for a moment as you ride the wave of pleasure that surges through you at the thought.

Jimin: You going to answer me?

You: I have the vibrator.

Jimin: Dirty girl... Did you cum?

You: No, not yet

Jimin: Can't get it done without me huh?

You: just taking my sweet time. thank you very much. curses aren't real

Jimin: prove me wrong then. cum for me

Your clitoris throbs as you lower the vibrator back to it, buzzing excitedly. The edge of your orgasm hangs just out of reach. You read back Jimin's command and press the vibrator harder against yourself, rocking your pelvis up and down. It's right there. You ride the edge for a moment, then breathe out and let yourself tip over.

Your whole body goes numb. All feeling disappears, as if you are floating in mid-air, all sense of time and place gone and you feel nothing. Your pelvic muscles contract rhythmically, as if you’re having an orgasm, but you can’t feel it. You feel nothing.

Blinding pain rips through you. The vibrator is a curling iron pressed to your clit. The sheets burn everywhere they touch you. You cry out in shock and fling the source of pain away from you. You tear the bedcovers off as the vibrator clatters into the dresser on the far side of the room.

What the fuck just happened? The pain disappears as quickly as it appeared and you are the same, cunt still pulsing with arousal. You lie in a pool of sweat, panting.

You look over at Jimin's message. Should you tell him what just happened? What if he thinks it's the curse?

You shake your head. No. Curses aren't real. It must all be in your head.

Today 10:42 am

You: did it

Jimin: really?

You feel a slight twinge of guilt as you lie to him.

You: really

Jimin: oh...

Is he disappointed? Did he want you to have an ancient demonic curse? He told you to come for him. You watch typing bubbles appear and disappear several times, but no messages come through. You feel overheated and overwhelmed. You get up out of the bed, ignoring the ache between your legs, deciding to have a cold shower instead.

Jimin: getting on the plane now

You: okay, have a safe flight! I love you! Call me when you land!

Jimin: yup, will do

No "I love you too"? Was he mad at you? Upset? You frown as you stand in your bathroom and watch his flight take off on the flight tracker app on your phone.

_____

It’s a long eleven hours as Jimin flies to Los Angeles. Every time you think about him, the slight tingle between your legs returns. You make the shower ten degrees colder to try to calm yourself down, but it provides only temporary relief. You are on edge and restless all day, but too afraid of the strange thing that happened this morning to try masturbating again.

By the time midnight rolls around, you are very tired and very frustrated. You should go to bed and talk to Jimin in the morning. But as you watch the plane get closer and closer to landing, you can’t fall asleep.

His plane lands and you wait for him to text you. Five minutes go by, then ten, with no message. You can’t take it anymore.

Today 12:18 am

You: Did you arrive safely?

Jimin: Just landed

You: Can you talk?

He’s only been gone half a day, but it already feels too long. You’re annoyed with yourself for feeling this needy.

Jimin: Not right now. Maybe in a couple of hours

You: I have to go to bed…

Jimin: You should go to bed then

You frown. Usually he would plead with you to wait a little longer, or ask if he could wake you up when he was free. You’ve had many whispered conversations at 4 am because it was the only time he could talk.

You can’t let on how much you already miss him though. You don’t want to be one of those girls who becomes a burden. This was the trade-off to dating an idol.

You: Okay, good night then

Jimin: good night

You frown at your phone again, before finally giving up and setting it down on the nightstand.

You stare at the dark ceiling of your bedroom wishing he was here with you, instead of halfway around the world. You roll over and hug the pillow next to you. It smells like him. It triggers a deep knock of the same arousal that’s been haunting you all day. Maybe it would help you sleep if you got some relief.

You slip your fingers down into your underwear and find yourself already wet. You trail your fingers through the sticky wetness curiously. You are not usually this wound up so quickly. It’s ridiculous that the smell of him alone can get you this excited.

You bury your face in his pillow and inhale again, amazed as you feel another burst of wetness gush from you. God, you miss him. How do you miss him this much when he’s been gone less than a day? His arms, his hands, his tongue, his lips are all you can think about.

You sigh softly as you trail a damp finger up around your eager clitoris. You close your eyes and imagine the hand belongs to Jimin instead. He’s here with you. His lips on yours, his hand curled into your hair, whispering how you belong to him.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers in your head. “Make yourself wet and desperate for me.” You groan as you pick up the pace of your hand. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

“Jimin, please,” you plead into the silence of your empty bedroom.

The Jimin in your head laughs. “You know it’s hopeless right?” he teases, smirking at you in that self-satisfied way where he knows he has you exactly where he wants you. “Every one of your orgasms belongs to me.”

You feel the edge of pleasure begin to slip away. You speed up your hand and chase after it, but it’s no use. The pleasure fades aways and you are left numb, empty and wet.

“Told you I was cursed,” imaginary Jimin teases. You huff in frustration, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and roll over away from the pillow that smells like him. You shut your eyes tight. Curses aren’t real.

_______

Your dreams are full of Jimin. Jimin’s hands, Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s tongue. Over and over, he teases you toward your climax in your sleep. Always pausing, always stopping before you get to your end. By the time you wake up in the morning, you are swollen and dripping with need.

Your alarm sounds. It’s Monday. Work starts in an hour. You reach down and confirm how wet you are, more wet than you have ever been before. Your thighs slide past each other, slick with arousal. You can’t go to work like this.

It’s time to break out the big guns.

You lean over the side of your bed and fish out the other shoebox. The one you couldn’t tell Jimin about. The one that contains your dildo. Sometimes the vibrator alone wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed a bit more. Sometimes you needed to be filled.

“Won’t do any good,” imaginary Jimin whispers in your head. You ignore him.

You slide the toy through your folds, slicking it up with your excessive wetness. The sides of your entrance tingle with heat as you stroke over them.

“Imagine it’s me,” Jimin teases. The fake cock heats up in your hands and you can almost believe it's his.

“Please, fuck me, Jimin” you beg, even though Jimin is thousands of miles away.

“Would if I could, sweetheart,” he answers. You picture him running his tongue over his plush lower lip. “But that’s not what you really want.”

“No such thing as curses,” you urge as you slide the dildo into you. “Fuck…”

Being finally filled again scratches an itch you hadn’t been able to before. It’s a pleasure and a relief all at once. The toy slides in easily with how soaking wet you are.

You pull up some porn on your phone and prop it against a pillow before grabbing the vibrator. You’re done fucking around. You need to get off right now and then go to work.

The porn isn’t very interesting though. The only thing you want to think about is Jimin. You close your eyes, listening to the audio but picturing your boyfriend. It doesn’t take long before you feel the pleasure crescendo. You let out a sob. It’s happening, it’s finally happening. You aren’t cursed.

The phone rings.

“Fuck!” You throw the vibrator down in frustration.

It’s Jimin. If it were anyone else, you would let it go to voicemail. But you really want to hear his voice. You turn the vibrator off so he won’t hear it, but keep sliding the silicone cock in and out of you.

“Hey babe,” Jimin’s voice is a little raspy. “I thought I could catch you before work. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you lie, sliding the dildo further inside yourself and biting your lip to conceal a groan.

He chuckles. “Nothing?”

“Nothing. Getting ready for work.” You refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting that you’re actually naked in bed, dripping for him. “What are you doing?”

“Finally made it to the hotel,” he groans. You can picture him stretching his arms over his head as he spreads himself across his big empty bed. “Was thinking about you. Thought you might be thinking of me.”

Does he know? How could he know? Does he have magical “knows when his girlfriend is horny” demon powers”?

Shit. No. Jimin is not a demon. There are no such things as demons.

“Did you just call for phone sex?” You want to sound irritated, but your pelvic muscles clench traitorously around the dildo.

“Can’t stop thinking about yesterday.” His voice gets lower and you can hear the slick sounds of his hand moving over his dick in the background. “You were so needy for me. I liked it.”

A sharp blade of anger slices through your fog of lust.

“Jimin.” You pull the dildo out of you, setting it to the side. “You can’t ignore me all day yesterday and then expect me to talk you off like nothing happened.”

“Aww, come on, we were so busy. I called you as soon as I got here,” he whines. “I’ll make sure you get off too.”

You aren’t sure he can. Not with his voice alone. You need him here with you. But you’re not going to admit that.

“I have to go to work.” You are rapidly running out of time.

“Don’t you miss me?” he asks. You can practically hear his pout through the phone.

“Do you miss me?” You want to know why he hadn’t called earlier, but you don’t want to seem too needy.

“Of course, I do, baby. I love you.”

The tension in you eases slightly. Maybe you had been making things up.

“Miss you so much,” he continues and you can hear the sounds of his jerking off pick up speed. “Miss that sweet little cunt.”

It’s just about sex. He doesn’t miss you, he just wants to get off. “I have to go Jimin.”

“What? No! Don’t go.”

“I’m going to be late for work.” You hang up on him, feeling a vindictive victory. Your core is still wet and aching, but your anger powers you long enough to get you up and into the shower.

______

One cold shower and a hot cup of coffee later and you are on your way to work.

The commute sucks. Your lingering arousal refuses to abate. Your mind dwells on Jimin. Sitting down on the subway has you springing to your feet as the train starts moving, vibrations from the rails threatening to have you soaking through your underwear. Memories of Jimin commanding you to orgasm echo through you as you fight to calm your breathing.

You haven’t heard from real Jimin since you hung up on him. He probably fell asleep.

At work, you shift uncomfortably at your desk. You try to answer some emails, but every few seconds your core pulses, forcing you to reposition yourself. Your clothes itch. Everything is too hot. You shrug off the cardigan that you usually need to cope with the building’s air conditioning system. But then you rush to put it back on when you notice how hard your nipples are, poking through your bra and shirt.

The only thing that can distract from the tingling all over you is the buzz of your phone.

Today 10:22 am

Jimin: I’m sorry :(

You: Go on…

Jimin: I’m sorry I ignored you. This whole thing has me a bit thrown off.

You: How so?

Jimin: I was just so sure that the curse was a real thing, you know? I felt pretty stupid that it wasn’t.

You bite your lip and shift uncomfortably in your seat, pressing your legs together. Should you tell him? No… curses aren’t real. You’re just missing your boyfriend. That’s okay.

You: It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you.

Jimin: Is it bad that I kind of wanted it to be real?

You: You did?

Jimin: Well, it’s pretty sexy right?

Sweat trails from your hairline down your neck.

You: I have to be able to live my life Jimin. Can’t be sitting around waiting for you.

Jimin: I’m sorry we’re gone so much.

Shit. Now you’ve made him feel bad for his work schedule, something you swore you’d never do.

You: It’s okay. I’ll be okay.

I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real. I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real.

You repeat the mantra under your breath until you make it to the end of the work day.

_______

The rest of the work week passes in much the same way, days of jaw clenching and sweating until you can rush home and lie in bed with the vibrator. You edge over and over, afraid of the pain you experienced last time, until you pass out exhausted.

You manage to make it to Friday. There’s a big meeting at nine. Your whole office, crammed into one conference room. At least this way you have an excuse to linger at the edge of the meeting, rather than sit leaking all over an office chair. It’s the first time you’ve had to be around this many other people at once.

“Do you think they can tell?” demon Jimin whispers in your head. “Do they know how wet and desperate you are right now?”

You teter at the edge of the room. You clench in horror as a drop of something begins running down the inside of your leg. You’re too far gone to tell if it is arousal or sweat.

A colleague next to you leans over to ask you a follow-up question on something your boss just said, but you cannot hear them over the buzzing in your head. They look at you in confusion. “Are you alright?”

No, you are not alright. You’re becoming dumber with each passing moment. Sweat beads up on the back of your neck. You mutter something about not feeling well and run for the restroom.

You slam the door to the stall behind you, ripping off your cardigan and undoing several buttons of the blouse underneath. You can’t breathe. You need air. You need relief. You slip your hand underneath your skirt. Your fingers are cool against your burning core. It’s a relief to touch yourself again.

“God, you’re a mess.” Jimin whispers in your head. You want to cry from how humiliating this is. “Can you imagine if they knew what you were doing in here?”

“Jimin…” you plead, unable to stop yourself.

“Shhh… ” he chuckles. “Don’t let them hear you.”

You bang your head back into the stall door in frustration. If you could just come, if you could just get five minutes of relief. Maybe the pain would be better, at least it would be a different sensation. You speed up your hand, chasing any form of relief.

“Such a dirty girl. Getting yourself off in the bathroom to the mere memory of me. What are we going to do with you?”

Your fingers slurp through the slick leaking from you. The noises fill the small office bathroom. It’s disgusting and debauched and you can’t stop yourself.

“Listen to that.” Jimin whispers. “You’re so hopeless.”

Your orgasm dances tantalizingly near, but your hand is starting to cramp up.

“Don’t stop now.” Jimin urges. “Keep rubbing. That’s it. The more desperate you are, the more control I have.”

“Fuck…” you curse.

The bathroom door opens, noises of chatter and typing pouring in from the larger office. “Everything okay in there?”

Your face burns with humiliation and your back drips with sweat. “I’m okay!” you call out, even though you aren’t, not even a little.

You’ll never get relief here. It takes all your strength to pull your fingers away from your swollen cunt. Especially with Jimin whispering in your ear to keep touching yourself.

You adjust your skirt and rebutton your blouse as best you can.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you emerge from the stall, not looking at the colleague who has come to check on you. “Stomach bug.” You hope your excessive sweating sells the idea that you are actually ill.

“Go home!” your colleague insists, waving their hands at you. “Don’t be spreading your norovirus around here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think that is a good idea.” You nod, rinsing off your hands and patting a damp cloth on your face.

Imaginary Jimin grins, his dark eyes burning in your mind’s eye at the idea of having you all to himself again. “I think that’s a good idea too.”

_______

The first thing you do when you get back to your apartment is strip out of your clothes, leaving a trail of sweat-soaked clothing from your front door to the bedroom. You climb back into bed and grab the vibrator, hissing in relief as it clicks on, feeling like you can breathe for a moment.

“You know, you’re only going to make it worse.” Demon Jimin continues to taunt you. “The more you touch yourself, the more you’ll want me.”

“Please, Jimin, please,” you beg, even though there’s nothing your imaginary boyfriend can do for you.

“What will we do with you?” the demon smirks, tutting in mock disapproval. “Can’t even work a full day. How will you keep a job? I’ll have to take you everywhere with me, never too far away. My personal slut.”

“No, Jimin, please…” Everything hurts. Your folds are red and irritated. Your hand cramps from pressing the vibrator into you. But you can’t stop.

“It’s okay, my love. Keep rubbing yourself. Melt your brain away. Be mine. There’s nothing else you need to do. That’s my good girl.”

All conscious thought begins to slip from you. There is only aching burning need. Jimin’s voice echoes in your head, drowning out all your attempts to fight him.

“What an embarrassment you are. So wet and needy. Filthy girl. I won’t be able to take you anywhere. You’ll have to wait around my hotel room, begging me to take pity on you. My own horny little pet.”

Waves of desire roll through you, washing away any other aspirations. Just to be his. To be only his.

“Won’t that be easier? Nothing to worry about. No work, no chores. Your only job will be to stay wet and ready for me. And you’ll be so good at it. I’ll use you when I feel like it and only let you come once I’m satisfied. Every single orgasm will be mine.”

A groan rips from your throat, more animal than human. Tremors run up and down your spine.

“I’ll have to be careful not to let you come too often though,” Jimin teases. “I like you like this. All needy and desperate for me. Want to keep you like this. My brainless little fucktoy.”

You sob. He’s right. It’s all you’re good for now. Nothing but a shivering pile of desperation.

The only thing that saves you from drifting under the demon’s spell is the ring of your phone. Jimin is calling you. Real Jimin. Your only lifeline.

“Hello?” Your voice is raspy and parched. You click off the vibrator so he can’t hear it. But that only makes the need worse, so you replace it with your hand.

“Hello?” Jimin answers. “Are you sleeping?”

“No…” Should you be asleep? You have no idea what time it is.

“You sound weird.”

You switch the phone to speaker and rest it next to your head on the bed so he can’t hear your heavy breathing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you all week.” He sounds a bit upset, and very far away.

You have no answer. No, things were not okay, but there was nothing he could do about it when he’s thousands of miles away.

“Beg him,” demon Jimin whispers. “Go on, beg him to let you come. It will be funny.”

“I can’t,” you mutter under your breath, groaning in frustration.

“What?” Jimin’s voice calls from the phone. “I can’t hear you. Are you still there?”

“I… I can’t do this right now Jimin.”

“Are you still at work?” His tone has shifted from upset to confused.

“No, no, I went home.”

“Are you sick?” Jimin asks through the phone. “Hello?”

A small sob bubbles its way up out of your throat.

“This conversation is boring,” the Jimin in your head insists. “Turn the vibrator back on.”

“I don’t have time for this right now, Jimin.”

“What are you doing?” Real Jimin sounds worried. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Go on,” the demon whispers. “Tell him you can’t come without him. Tell him you belong to him now. Tell him his pathetic excuse for a girlfriend can’t live without him.”

“Jimin please!” you cry out. “I can’t do it anymore, please!” Tears are rolling down your cheeks. “Please let me come.”

“What? Are you playing with yourself right now?” he asks, incredulous.

Somehow the vibrator has turned back on and you rock against it, even as you wish you could stop. “I can’t help it,” you sob. “I can’t stop Jimin. I can’t stop.” You’re useless and pathetic. He’s going to leave you and you’ll never get relief again. “I’m sorry. Please let me come.”

“You can come! You can come!” he shouts through the phone, but of course, that does nothing to help you.

“I can’t come without you!” you sob. “You were right. The curse is real.”

“Huh? But, but... at the airport, you said you did.”

You groan, still chasing relief that isn’t coming. “I lied, Jimin, I’m sorry.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. But it’s real and I can’t… I can’t do anything without you. You have to come back.”

“I can’t come back. We have a show tomorrow.”

“ He’s not going to help you.” The demon is still there, waiting for you.

“Please, Jimin, please come home.” you beg. “I need you.”

“This is my job. I can’t leave.”

“What about my job, Jimin? What about my life? You can’t leave me like this!”

“It’s only been a week! Can’t you deal with it for a little longer?”

“Fuck you Park Jimin! You did this to me!”

“You said it wasn’t real!”

“He’s useless,” demon Jimin begins to drown out your boyfriend. “Come back to me. Be mine.”

“I have to go Jimin.”

“No, don’t hang up. We can figure this out.”

“You can’t help me.” You hang up the phone and toss it back onto your nightstand.

“Good girl.” The demon hisses in satisfaction. “Let it all go. Let your mind go.” You cry, still rocking against the vibrator, searching for relief that isn’t coming.

______

Your mind slowly leaves you over the next few days. You can get a few minutes of clarity if you’re willing to push yourself all the way over the edge, the searing pain providing you with enough mental clearness to call in sick to work or order food. But every time you do, it leaves you with even less with even less mental clarity.

At some point, you stop keeping track of the days. You stop sleeping. You stop eating. Eventually, even getting out of bed becomes too much work.

The bed sheets are wet, a mixture of sweat and vaginal secretions. You need to pee.

“God, you’re disgusting.” Demon Jimin laughs in your head. “He’s never going to want you now. Wet yourself like the animal you are and be done with it.”

You whine, hiding your face beneath your pillow and trying to distract yourself with the vibrator from the growing need to urinate.

The phone rings. Jimin is calling. He’s been calling for days, but you can’t answer him. You can’t let him know what you’ve become. He’ll never want you again.

There’s a loud banging on your front door. Who could that be? You haven’t ordered any food in a while, not really sure how long.

“Ignore it,” the demon instructs. “Lie here in this bed and piss yourself.”

You wrap the pillow around your head, unsure if you are trying to drown out the pounding on the door or the demon whispering in your ear.

“Open the door!” A loud, frantic voice carries through the door and you curl in on yourself. You don’t know who they are, but you can’t let them see. You can’t let them know. The pounding stops, followed by a loud thud that rattles the door on its hinges. “Goddamn it!” The voice shouts. Then, a softer voice calls through the door. “Baby, please open the door. Please, let me in.” It’s Jimin. Real Jimin. He’s here.

The overwhelming drive for him is the only thing that could propel you up and out of the bed. You’re shaky on your feet, a bit dizzy. The world is not entirely stable. But you manage to make it to the door and unlatch the lock before collapsing in a heap next to the entry.

For a second, there’s nothing. The door stays shut and you are worried that you hallucinated the whole thing. Of course he’s not here. He has more important things to be doing than dealing with his pathetic girlfriend.

But then the door bursts open.

“Babe?” Jimin calls for you as he steps into the apartment, kicking off his shoes. He’s wearing the same white dress shirt and black slacks that he left you in. Maybe he’s a figment of your imagination.

“Jimin…” You reach out for him, unable to believe he’s actually here, needing to feel whether or not he is solid.

“Shit.” His eyes widen as he finds you crumpled up and naked on the floor. “Are you okay?” He drops his overnight bag on the threshold and kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. “Tell me what’s happening.”

You don’t know how to answer him. You don’t know what’s happening. But his fingertips are cool against your feverish, sweaty skin. He brushes the hair out of your face so he can look you in the eyes. You only know you need him.

“Jimin, I need you, please.” Your hands reach for him, searching for more of his skin to cool yourself against. You’re untucking his shirt from his pants and trying to undo his belt buckle, but he bats your hands away.

“Woah...” He grabs your hands to stop you as you battle him for his belt. “Babe, slow down, talk to me.”

He doesn’t want you. He’s repulsed by you. The demon was right. He’ll never touch you again. You’re worthless. You’re repulsive. You burst into tears. “Please, Jimin, please, I can’t,” you sob, nearly incomprehensible.

“Shh, shh...” He runs his hands over your shoulders. “Shh… it’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.” He scoops you up into his arms and carries you down the hall, back toward your room. “I was so worried,” he says as he cradles you against him.

You can only respond by nuzzling your face into his chest, the cool cotton of his white shirt absorbing the heat from your skin.

“Your work called and said you haven’t been in since last week.” He kisses the top of your head and inhales the smell of your hair. “Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

You ought to feel bad, but it was hard to feel too bad when you had what you finally wanted, Jimin back here with you.

“I thought something terrible had happened to you.” He pauses at the door to the bathroom, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s the curse,” you whine, covering your face with your hands. “I’m cursed. You cursed me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He set you down on the toilet, before turning on the shower. “I didn’t know it would be like this.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead and turns to leave the bathroom.

You panic. Where is he going? He can’t leave you like this. “Jimin, no, don’t leave.” You chase him out of the bathroom, catching him around the middle and clinging to his waist. “You can’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving,” he chuckles, trying to unfasten your arms from around him, but you refuse to let go. “I was just getting undressed.” He sighs, picking you up once again and carrying you back to the bathroom. He tries to set you down again, but you whine, clinging to his neck.

Giving up, he steps directly into the shower, still dressed, cradling you in his arms. The white dress shirt turns translucent as the water hits it, clinging to his skin. The water runs down his torso and thighs and you groan with need. The water is warm, but it feels cool compared to how hot your skin is.

“Jimin, please.” You’re begging again. “I need you.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here,” he answers. Your legs tremble underneath you as he puts you back on your feet. He grabs the bottle of body wash and squirts out a generous dollop, lathering it up in his hands. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

It’s all you can do to stay standing as he caresses you. He removes the shower head from its hook so he can follow each soapy caress with water to wash you clean.

He starts with your neck, then your breasts, then your stomach, gentle hands massaging over you. It only makes the ache for him worse. He reaches the puffy and swollen labia and you gasp, legs trembling.

“Please, Jimin, please,” your endless chant of pleading begins again.

“Shh…. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He runs the showerhead over your aching core to rinse off the soap and your legs give out entirely. You collapse against the wall behind you, unable to support yourself. Still dressed in his soaking wet clothes, he kneels in front of you. He spreads your legs, investigating your swollen folds with his soapy hands. Your clitoris throbs, hard and angry and red. You shiver as he runs the water stream over again. “Does it hurt?” he asks, watching your face as he strokes over your tender core with his fingertips.

“No, no,” you shake your head emphatically. “Not anymore.” The only pain now is the distance between you. “Please, please, please…”

He slides closer to you, brushing his dark wet hair back off his forehead and licking his lips. He picks up one of your legs and wraps it over his shoulder, then the other, carrying you on his shoulders as he buries his face in your core. You are so on edge, have been on edge for so long, that you’re already at the peak of your arousal the moment his tongue touches you.

Something monstrous is building inside you. A sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before moves through you as he moves his tongue in slow broad strokes over your clit. Flames of heat lick at your extremities, beginning in your fingertips and toes and spreading upward. Rising warmth builds in your belly as you ride his face, hips undulating in time with the bobbing of his head. Fear floods you as the memory of the searing pain returns from those moments you’ve gotten this close in the past. You tense up, gripping his shoulders tightly, afraid to let yourself tip over.

“It’s okay,” Jimin whispers, pausing for a second to admire you from between your thighs. “It’s okay to let go.” His warm wet tongue slides over your aching clit as his fingers penetrate you. A massive tremor rolls through you as all the pent of tension releases at once and you’re coming. Every muscle in your body seizes over and over as you grind against his face.

Rhythmic muscle contractions seize you as a rush of fluid shoots out of you, spraying Jimin right in the face. You’re screaming, but not from pain. There is no pain, only release, only relief.

“Woah.” Jimin gapes at you, your release dripping down his face and off his chin. Then he breaks into a huge smile. “That was amazing.”

You laugh out loud, relief washing over you. Your whole body turns to jello and you collapse into his lap.

“Thank goodness we were already in the shower,” he says, wiping his face with his hand and chuckling.

The two of you sit, holding on to each other under the stream of water, laughing. Finally, the mental fog begins to lift from your thoughts.

“How did you get here?” you ask, yawning as you do so.

“On a plane.” He laughs, nuzzling against your neck, arms wrapped around you.

You hit playfully on his chest, still covered in his soaking wet dress shirt. “You know what I mean, what about the tour?” You yawn again.

He mirrors your yawn, stretching his arms and groaning. “I have to go back in the morning. They managed to get me out of the press junkets for today by claiming I was sick, but I have to be back for the concert.”

“Do they know?” Your eyes are already closing as you lean against his warm firm torso.

“About the curse?” Jimin asks. “No…” he laughs. “No, I don’t think they’d let me leave if I told them it was because my girlfriend really needed to ride my face. I told them I had a family emergency.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin.”

He shakes his head. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” He turns your face toward him and kisses you. “It’s my fault. I never should have left you.”

You sigh, head resting on his shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes your hand where it is entwined with his in your lap. “But we’ll figure something out.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall, finger stroking your arm. “But right now we should get some sleep.”

He turns off the shower, stripping off his wet clothes and leaving them behind before scooping you up. Your head is floaty as he wraps you in a warm towel. You lean against the counter as he strips the sheets from the bed and replaces them with fresh ones, then comes back to lead you back to the bed. The two of you collapse into bed together and sleep overtakes you almost instantly.

______

Your dreams are full of Jimin again. Not teasing demon Jimin, but your warm loving boyfriend, stroking your hair and holding your hand.

You are surprised to wake up and find him watching you.

“I have a solution!” He chirps excitedly.

“You do?”

“Yes! Apparently the curse is in my saliva. So here!” He thrusts the bottle of lube from your nightstand into your hands. You look at it in confusion. “I spit in it!” he proudly declares.

“Um…” You hold the bottle at arm’s length. “Thank you?”

“This way, if I’ve been gone too long, you have a way to get off without me.”

“How do you know it will work?”

He laughs sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mom.”

“Ugh, no…” You hide your head under the covers in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”

“It was an awkward conversation.” He laughs again. “But I couldn’t let you go through that again. She swears this will work.” He glances down at his watch. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to test it out with you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Think you can get it done before I get on my plane?”

“I suppose there’s one way to find out…”

Jimin disappears under the bed and returns with both your vibrator and dildo. “Better get going then,” he teases, before giving you one last kiss. “I’ll text you when I land. I love you.”

You stare at the assortment of sex toys and lube now spread out on your bed. “You’re just going to leave? I don’t have to go with you?”

“Do you want to go with me? I thought you had work.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I do, but… I thought you were going to make me your personal sex slave.”

“Um, I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs, then a more mischievous smirk spreads over his face. “Unless you want me to.”

You laugh in relief even as a lick of heat curls in your belly. “Perhaps that’s a game best left for when you are in town.”

He winks. “Looking forward to it.”

#HAPPY HALLOWEEN!#jimin smut #jimin x reader #btssavedmylifeblr

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

LUCKY PAIR

a/n: another one :)

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.5k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

Sebastian has always been a humble man. Growing up, with a strong and loving family background, he never really left the path that leads to good manners and appreciation even for the smallest things in life. Not even becoming a successful actor could change the way he sees and feels grateful for everything he has and achieved.

There were times when he thought he wouldn’t find the person he could settle with, feel comfortable enough around to spend the rest of his life with. Let alone start a family with. That was until he met you.

From the very start he felt a sense of belonging to you, like you pulled him in, so easily and fast, enchanted him and simply made him yours. And he didn’t mind it, not even a bit. Dating you has been such a different experience than his previous relationships. As if it made him realize how shallow and loose they were, but now he had the chance to taste what real love is like. With all the good and bad, the two of you have been sharing such a deep connection since the beginning that put his previous dating experiences to shame.

Now that you are pregnant and engaged, Sebastian has been immensely overwhelmed with how amazing his life is getting, all thanks to you. He is amazed by everything about the road to becoming parents, all the changes and challenges, he feels like it all led him to this exact point in life. What he likes the most about it however is you. Seeing you grow your baby, see the growth and the changes every day, the miracle of life happening right in front of his eyes. And he is still having a hard time believing that you chose him to do all of this with, to have the most beautiful gift of life with him.

He has always admired you in many ways, you’ve been a fascinating creature to him from the very beginning and he loved learning new things about you, things that made him fall in love with you even more. After spending years together he could still look at you with the same amount of love he did when you were just getting to know each other. But then came the pregnancy and Sebastian found himself falling deeper than ever.

He has often found himself looking at you with his heart full and chest warm at the oddest moments. When you were doing your skincare routine in the evening, standing in front of the mirror, putting on all the different products, he always has a great view of you from the side, sitting on the bed and he loves how he saw your belly get bigger each time, as you went through the same steps. Or the way you always scratch the lower part of your bump every morning as your good morning to the baby, humming to yourself with your eyes still closed in the soft morning light that floods the bedroom through the massive windows. Or how you draw a little heart on your tummy with your lotion before spreading the scream all over your skin. All these little things have had him melting, so thankful that he gets to see and experience it. With you.

Now the two of you are having a lazy Sunday, Sebastian has been watching a football game on TV and you are sitting next to him, your laptop on the top of a pile of pillows next to you, your legs crossed underneath you as you’re typing away on the keyboard. You’re wearing your reading glasses you recently got and for what he nagged you forever to finally get, but you refused to, feeling like you’re a little too young to have reading glasses. But then you realized you really did need them when you had trouble reading emails on your phone. You gave in and bought a pair, the transparent frame is a subtle accessory on your pretty face. Sebastian hasn’t told you, but it’s doing things to him, especially when you push them up to the top of your head, keeping your unruly hair back with them from your forehead. However now it makes you appear more on the cute side rather than the sexy, though that aspect is still there as well.

You’re snacking on some veggie chips, your latest craving that now takes up half of the pantry, reading something your mother has sent you about the wedding that will only take place after the baby is born, but she’s been so excited about it, she’s been bombarding you with ideas she finds online. You don’t mind it, carefully reading everything she proposes to you and then leaving comments and suggestions of your own before sending it back to her.

You’re wearing an oversized shirt with no pants on, just your underwear, your legs bare and looking so soft and squishy, Sebastian is having a hard time not to reach out and feel them with his own hands.

It’s so domestic, so mundane and simple, seeing you like this in the comfort of the home the two of you share, yet in this moment he feels like he is on top of the world. He swears he could cry from happiness when he looks at you in this state and he wishes he could preserve this moment forever.

He watches you reach into the bag, your eyes still on the screen, but then you realize that the chips is gone and you pout softly, giving the now empty bag a sad look. It’s just then that you notice him watching you instead of the game on the TV.

“What is it?” you ask with a shy, confused look. Sebastian shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leans closer, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth in a soft, chaste kiss.

“Nothing. You want me to grab another bag for you?”

“Ah, no. I shouldn’t even have eaten this bag,” you mumble under your breath, pursing your lips.

“Just eat it if you want it, Doll. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“Don’t tempt me, I’ve already put on so much baby weight!” you warn him playfully, making him chuckle.

“That’s alright. You still look beautiful,” he assures you, making your heart flutter in your chest. As a reply, you just give his hand a squeeze before returning to your laptop, starting to type away, but Sebastian can’t stop himself from staring still. Licking your lips you notice his gaze again, feeling a little shy under his inspecting stare.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” you start guessing, but he shakes his head no, a hand reaching out to finally grab your bare thigh, his fingers deliciously sinking into your flesh.

“No, I just…” he sighs. “You’re so beautiful and I love you so much. That’s it.”

Your cheeks immediately heat up at his words, not sure where all of this affection is coming from all of a sudden.

“Stop, I didn’t even shower this morning,” you huff awkwardly. You just simply couldn’t muster up the energy to undress, shower and dress again, so you decided to skip, now Sebastian is treating you like a princess.

“I really don’t care,” he smirks, reaching up his palm cups the side of your face, his thumb running across the soft skin under your eye. He simply can’t fight this sudden wave of sentimentality, not that he wants to. Showing his love and affection has always been important for him and he will not shy away from letting you know how he feels. “I know I’ve said this before, but… I really am one lucky man.”

“You always say this as if I’m doing you a favor by being with you, but it’s mutual, Seb,” you softly tell him. Abandoning your laptop you scoot closer until he can wrap an arm around your shoulders, your sides pressed up against each other. “I’m lucky to have you too.”

“Yeah? So you’re not sick of me yet?” he teases you playfully, pressing his fingers into your side, making you jump a little.

“You think I would have said yes if I was?” you ask, holding up your hand, the diamond ring sitting not so subtly on your finger.

“Maybe you said yes just because I knocked you up,” he prompts and you smack his chest, making him laugh.

“Stop that! As if we weren’t already planning to have a baby, sometime soon,” you mock him, narrowing your eyes at him and smirking down at you he just kisses your forehead.

“I know, I know. I’m just still kinda looking for the explanation how someone like you ended up with me.”

“Oh please! Thousands of women were devastated when it got out that you’re off the market,” you scoff at his comment. “I should be thinking about the how, not you.”

“I guess we are… a lucky pair then, huh?” he smirks as you snake a hand behind his neck, pulling him down so your lips meet in a smearing kiss.

“Mm, the luckiest,” you grin against his lips.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x you

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deancasheadcanons · 3 years

Text

Slightly Gayer

[ao3]

7.3k words post-15x18 domestic Dean/Cas (loosely) inspired by this artwork by skepticalfrog

Dean is sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee and halfheartedly scrolling through the news. He can’t focus because his eyes keep drifting over to the other side of the kitchen, where Cas is cooking breakfast and talking on the phone with Claire.

Cas looks different, is the thing. He’s wearing a pair of bright green boxer briefs and one of Dean’s old gray t-shirts, neither of which fit him right. Since becoming human, Cas exercises constantly, stacking his arms and legs with thickly corded muscle.

But he eats, too, and loves eating as much as Dean does, so his stomach juts out big and round from his muscular chest, several inches of tan underbelly visible out of the bottom of Dean’s shirt. The fabric is caught in the crease between his chest and belly, taut around the outline of his nipple rings. The sleeves are also too tight around his biceps, revealing the Enochian tattoos that extend from shoulder to elbow of each arm.

Dean knows what Cas looks like, of course he knows. He knows every inch of his perfect body. But the way Cas moves, Dean is still getting used to. Still studying.

Cas has the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, his hands occupied with making pancakes and eggs. He has his weight shifted to one hip, his butt sticking out even more than it already does, and he keeps waving the spatula around animatedly as he talks. He takes a drink of coffee, then scratches his belly, then gestures with his hand, flipping his wrist rather...limply.

He turns around to the kitchen island to plate the pancakes and catches Dean staring at him. He smiles and winks in his direction while continuing his conversation with Claire.

Dean tries to look back down at his phone. He makes it about five seconds before his eyes find their way over to Cas again. He takes a long drink of coffee and sets his mug down as he stands up. He strides over to Cas and comes at him from behind, wrapping his arms around his middle and burying his face in his soft neck. He kisses the tattoo that’s on the juncture of Cas’ collarbone and neck—Dean’s name in Enochian.

“I’ve gotta go, Claire,” Cas says, his voice as deep and gravelly as ever. “Tell Kaia I said hello. Yes. OK, bye.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ belly and presses long, slow kisses to his neck.

Cas turns the stove off and moves the eggs over to a different burner. His hands, now free, fold over top of Dean’s. He laces their fingers together.

“Claire said they’re thinking of coming by to visit in a few days,” Cas says, leaning his weight back against Dean.

“Mm. Good.” Dean continues his kisses.

Cas huffs a laugh and rubs his hand up and down Dean’s forearm. “Feeling affectionate this morning?”

“Always. C’mere.” He tugs at Cas to get him to turn around in his arms, then he fits his hands to his hips and presses his flat torso against Cas’ gut before leaning over and kissing him on the lips.

Cas puts a hand to the side of Dean’s face and the other on the counter behind him, supporting his weight against it. He moans into the kiss, pushing his tongue hungrily into Dean’s mouth and rolling his hips in an intoxicating rhythm.

They stop after a few minutes. Cas keeps his hand on Dean’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb back and forth across his cheek as he smiles softly up at him.

“What?” Dean asks self-consciously. He circles his own thumbs into Cas’ love handles.

“Nothing,” Cas replies, his smile widening. “You’re just very beautiful.”

Dean ducks back in for another quick kiss. Then, “You move differently than you used to.”

Cas tilts his head to the side, furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re, uh, I don’t know. Your mannerisms...you’re more feminine. Gayer.”

Cas laughs and drops his head forward. His hand falls away from Dean’s face, and he flips it out palm up. “Well, Dean, I am gay.”

Now Dean is laughing. He pulls Cas closer to him and once again pushes his face against his neck. “You were just so stiff before.” He pulls back again and looks Cas in the eye. “I don’t like thinking that you were, I don’t know, holding yourself back. Repressed.”

Cas barks out a laugh. “Yes, please, tell me more about how I was repressed.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He squeezes a soft hip. “I’m starving, let’s eat.”

They sit perpendicular to each other at the kitchen table. Cas rubs one socked foot up and down Dean’s calf while they eat.

“Do I move different?” Dean asks with a mouthful of eggs.

Cas frowns at him, mug of coffee in his hand. “Is that a trick question?”

“Oh god, I do, don’t I?”

“Well, first of all, Dean, your voice is an octave higher than it used to be.”

Dean blushes and shoves more food in his mouth, avoiding eye contact.

Cas leans his elbows on the table, closer to Dean. “And you carry yourself differently. You’ve always been confident in your body, but you don’t posture anymore. You carry yourself in a more relaxed way—like when we’re walking, and you keep one hand in your pocket and the other holding mine. You don’t puff your chest out so much, and it makes you look more natural.”

“Gayer?”

Cas laughs again. “Yes, Dean, I think when you, uh, rub my lower back and kiss my temple while we wait in line at the grocery store or something, you definitely look gayer than you did before.”

Dean reaches over and tangles their hands together, swinging them back and forth playfully on top of the table. “Can’t help it,” he says gently. “If you’re near me, I gotta touch.”

They smile shyly at each other. Cas eventually moves Dean’s hand up to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. “I’m not too gay for you, am I? My mannerisms don’t bother you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You’re fishing for a compliment.”

“So give me one.”

He scoots his chair closer to Cas’ and moves his hand under the table, spreading his fingers over one of Cas’ thick thighs and squeezing the soft muscle. “I’m fucking thrilled that you’re comfortable in your own skin, sweetheart. I love the new ways you move, and I love how you’ve made your body your own. I get distracted staring at you so much that I can’t even read one crap news article without looking at you.”

Cas takes a deep breath. A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away delicately. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to hearing you say stuff like that to me. Not even in my most self-indulgent fantasies did I imagine...”

Dean laughs and tugs on Cas’ shirtsleeve, coaxing him over to him, patting his legs so Cas straddles his lap. Once they’re settled, Dean rubs soothing circles into Cas’ back fat and looks up at him reverently.

“I’ll always think you deserve better than me, but, uh,” Dean starts. “I guess if you want me instead of somebody better, then I gotta be the best version of myself. I’m sorry I wasn’t this me sooner.”

Cas presses their foreheads together. “You mean this gayer version?”

Dean laughs into a kiss. “Only took you confessing your love and dying for me to get my head out of my ass.”

Cas puts a finger to the tip of Dean’s nose. “No, actually, it took more than that. Seven months after I came back, Dean. It took you seven months.”

Dean winces. “Worth the wait?”

Cas sighs and kisses Dean’s cheek before climbing laboriously off his lap, grunting as his gut shifts. He pulls at the hem of his boxer briefs to get them down over his huge thighs; Dean pinches his butt as he walks away.

In the time it takes Cas to refill their coffee mugs, Dean’s phone rings.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Sam asks.

As Cas comes back and hands Dean a mug, sliding his arm gently across his shoulders before making his way to his seat, Dean says, “Having breakfast with the love of my life. What do you need?”

“Eileen and I are going on a hunt, gonna take a few days. Can we drop Jack by later today?”

“What? The kid can’t stay by himself in the bunker?”

Cas flattens his lips and raises his eyebrows, silently chastising Dean. Dean throws his hand up and shrugs.

“He’s 4, Dean,” Sam says.

“He’s as powerful as God, Sam.”

Jack’s voice comes through the phone, sounding far away. “I don’t like staying here by myself. It’s lonely.”

“Of course you can stay here, kid,” Dean says loudly enough for Jack to hear. To Sam, he says, “But make sure you stop by the store on your way and pick up some food for him, because Cas and I are on a diet.”

“Seriously?” Sam asks.

“No,” Dean scoffs. “C’mon, dude. I’m sure the kid’ll be thrilled to get some real food instead of whatever rabbit food crap you and Eileen feed him.”

Cas snorts a laugh and tucks back into his stack of pancakes, pouring more syrup over them before taking a bite. Dean watches him, obsessed with the dainty way he holds his fork.

“You know, it’s gonna catch up to you one day,” Sam says. “You’ll wake up and suddenly realize you look like Cas.”

“Mm,” Dean hums, eyes still glued to Cas. “You mean I’ll be hot as shit?”

Cas winks at him.

“Yeah, I walked right into that one,” Sam mutters. “See you this afternoon.”

“Bye, Sam.” He hangs up.

“I don’t know why you goad him into judging our eating habits,” Cas says. “He asks about my weight every time I lift with him.”

“What? I’ll kill him.”

“No, it’s—”

“Where’s my gun? I’m gonna kill him.”

“Dean,” Cas says, exasperated. “He only asks because he doesn’t see me every day. You’d notice I was getting bigger, too, if you only saw me every week or so.”

Dean pouts at him, offended. “I touch you and stare at you constantly every day, of course I fucking notice. You’re big, Cas. And you take good care of yourself. Sam can mind his own fucking business.”

“I don’t need you to defend my honor to your brother, you insane man.” Cas stands and picks up their plates to take them to the sink. “And you need to limit the number of ‘fucks’ you say when Jack gets here.”

“Jesus, when did you become such a nagging wife?”

Cas turns away from the sink, sets a hand on the shelf of his belly, and says in a deadpan, “When I became pregnant with our third child.”

It’s a joke he stole from Dean, but Dean still lets out an embarrassing laugh like it’s the first time he’s heard it. He then joins Cas in the kitchen, hugging him from behind again and sneaking a hand up under his shirt so he can cup one of his pecs, teasing his thumb over his piercing. He kisses the shell of his ear as he mumbles, “I’ll clean up in here. I know you wanna go work out.”

Cas shuffles around in his arms and kisses him languidly. Even though they’ve been together for months and have shared at least a thousand kisses, a thrilling warmth washes over Dean’s body every time Cas initiates.

“What?” Cas asks gently when they break apart.

Dean kisses him again, squeezes his sides. “I just love you so much.”

Cas fights his smile and fails. He runs a hand up through Dean’s hair, which Dean is growing out, because Cas likes to touch it. “I love you so much, too.”

“C’mere.” Dean pulls him into a hug, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tight, nuzzling his face in his neck while Cas fists his hands in the back of Dean’s t-shirt. “Loved you for so long. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Cas squeezes him. “I should’ve, too.”

Dean clears his throat as they break apart. “We’ve turned into the biggest fucking saps. Go, go lift your silly weights.” He shoos Cas out of the kitchen and smacks his butt as he goes. “And hey! Don’t forget to walk your sweaty body through here on your way to the shower.”

Over his shoulder, Cas says, “Of course. I would never deprive you of that, Dean.”

When Dean finishes cleaning the kitchen, he heads to the living room where they’ve set up a workspace to help hunters out. Sure, it would be easier to do the job from the bunker, but Dean and Cas wanted their own space, a homier environment for hunters to stop by and rest. They have a room for Jack, a room for Claire and Kaia, and two extra bedrooms for anybody else who shows up—although, one of the rooms is half-full of Cas’ exercise equipment.

Dean has his eye on a rundown bar down the road, too, but not enough time has passed since they committed crimes to get a loan for their house, so he has to wait before they can buy it.

While Dean is doing research for a case that Garth is working on, Jody calls.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Dean answers, putting her on speaker.

“I’m three hours from your place,” she says, sounding tired. “Can you guys take the kid again for just, like, one week? Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course, Jody,” Dean replies, his posture straightening with excitement. “But you already knew that, because you’re already driving her over here.”

Jody laughs. “Yeah. Thanks, Dean. See you soon.”

Dean shoots a text to Sam: Raven’s gonna be here, too. ETA?

Sam texts back right away: Whenever we feel like it o’clock.

Bitch, Dean types.

Whore, Sam replies.

When Dean and Cas got together, they didn’t get the chance to tell Sam. They were on a hunt, and Sam was at the motel doing research while Dean and Cas ate dinner at a bar nearby. Cas was talking about the case and reached over and stole a fry off of Dean’s plate, and something about the gesture broke something inside of Dean. He blurted out, “I love you, too,” like a fucking idiot, causing Cas to nearly choke on the fry.

The truth was that Dean was in shock when Cas came back from the Empty, and he could not believe that this ancient unknowable being actually loved him. But then Cas was human, and ordinary, and he grew more comfortable around Dean as his body filled out. Easy warmth and affection radiated from him, like loving Dean was as natural to him as breathing.

And Dean knew that his own feelings couldn’t be buried anymore. They were clawing their way to the surface with each day that passed, until finally they burst free with an I love you, too over a stolen goddamn French fry.

They finished their meal quickly and quietly, then they walked out to the Impala together and Dean couldn’t wait a second longer than the nearly 13 years he’d already waited, so he pushed Cas up against the driver’s side door and kissed him.

“Oh,” Cas breathed between their mouths.

“What?” Dean mumbled.

“I didn’t—realize—when—”

Dean moved to kissing Cas’ softening jaw and neck so that his mouth was free to talk.

“I wasn’t sure you meant you loved me like this,” Cas explained.

Dean abruptly pulled away. “Oh. Uh, did you not—we don’t have to if you don’t want—”

Cas cut him off with a bruising kiss. “No, no, I definitely want.”

“Thank god.”

It had taken all of their willpower to get in the car and drive back to the motel, and Dean had barely put her in park before dragging Cas to the backseat and messily stripping clothes off. There wasn’t nearly enough space, so they ended up rutting against each other while making out like horny teenagers, and that’s when Sam knocked on the window.

Dean cracked it the smallest amount, his body still tangled with Cas. “We’re a little busy here, Sammy.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m gonna get another room so you guys don’t have to do...this...out here.”

“Sammy, you’re the best brother in the world,” Dean said stupidly as he and Cas struggled out of the backseat, holding their clothes half-on, shirts and overshirts and jackets in hand and jeans unbuttoned. Dean dragged Cas by the hand up to their room.

And so Sam (homophobically, in Dean’s opinion) started calling Dean “whore” instead of “jerk.”

Dean is typing on his laptop when Cas clears his throat from the hall. Dean looks up immediately, raking his eyes up and down Cas’ glistening, swollen body as he walks shirtless toward their bedroom.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, come back here,” Dean says, scrambling to get up, tripping over his own feet, then finally making it to Cas so he can squeeze his biceps and press kisses to his sweaty shoulder.

Dean moves his mouth down Cas’ collarbone and chest, hunching his body so he can get a better angle as he works his tongue around a nipple ring.

Cas cards a hand through Dean's hair. “Do you want to shower with me?” he asks patiently.

Dean reluctantly lets go of his nipple and straightens up. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”

Their shower is just big enough for both of them, but it’s too difficult to do much more than wash each other’s bodies. They talk loudly to each other over the spray, which is why neither of them hear the front door open and Sam and Eileen announce their arrival.

Dean walks out to the kitchen wearing a towel around his waist and one around his hair. Sam and Eileen are making sandwiches while Jack sits on a barstool at the island reading a book.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Dean says. He grabs a La Croix out of the fridge and takes a long drink. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Cas comes in next, wearing just boxer briefs, his wet hair dripping water onto his body. He greets everyone then puts a hand on the small of Dean’s back and kisses his cheek. He takes the La Croix right out of his hand and drinks it before giving it back.

“Cas, are your nipples pierced?” Eileen asks, shocked.

“Oh, yeah,” Cas says flippantly. He pats the tattoo of Dean’s name on his shoulder. “Dean talked me into it when I got this.”

Dean mutters, “Not like you needed much convincing.”

“So are you guys gonna bother putting clothes on, or…?” Sam asks bitchily.

“Oh, I’m so sorry for existing in my own house,” Dean teases. He settles against Cas’ side; Cas wraps his arm around his hip. “Maybe if somebody had told us when they would be here, we could’ve been ready.”

“Yeah, well, we were anxious to get here,” Sam says, looking pointedly at Eileen. “We have some news.”

“Uh-oh, this sounds like something I should be wearing clothes for,” Dean says.

“I’m pregnant,” Eileen says and signs. She makes a face like she’s sorry about it.

Cas sucks in a sharp breath. Dean’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, uh.” Sam sighs and throws a hand up. “We’re not totally sure how we feel about it, you know, never really planned on…”

“We don’t want to stop hunting,” Eileen finishes for him. “But if there’s a good reason to stop, this is it.”

“We can help,” Dean says quickly. He nervously sets his water down on the counter so he can sign and talk. “You know we’re always willing to take care of a kid. Especially a baby.” He looks over at Jack. “No offense, Jack.”

“I told them I would help, too,” Jack says cheerfully. “I would love a little brother or sister. And I can heal most injuries other than death, so if they keep hunting while Eileen is pregnant, it’ll be OK.”

“We’ll be here every step of the way,” Cas adds. “Whatever you need.”

“Yeah,” Sam says solemnly. “We know it’ll be OK, we’re just...I don’t know, I’m just not naturally maternal like you, Dean.”

“Come here, Sammy,” Dean says, walking away from Cas and putting his hand up on Sam’s shoulder to bring him down for a hug. “You’re already a great dad. You’re not gonna fuck the kid up, I promise.”

Sam laughs and squeezes Dean once before letting go. He frowns down at Dean’s bare torso and says, “OK, go get some clothes on, please.” Under his breath, he mutters, “I don’t understand how you and Cas even fit in a shower together.”

“Hey.” Dean points a menacing finger at him. “If you don’t lay off my boyfriend, he’s gonna use his massively buff arms to kick your ass.”

“No, I’m not,” Cas says in a monotone, flipping his wrist to blow Dean off. He kisses Eileen on the cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

“What? I’m not—I don’t care what Cas looks like,” Sam says. He opens the fridge and gestures dramatically to it. “I just think it would be good every now and then if you guys ate, like, one vegetable.” He looks Dean up and down. “Also the fact that Cas works out and you don’t, you look like a skinny little beanpole next to him. He makes you look ridiculous.”

Dean crosses his arms and pouts. “He likes how I look. Says it makes him feel big and strong when he picks me up.”

Sam and Eileen both laugh. Eileen asks, “He picks you up? What, like during sex?”

Dean blushes. He halfheartedly says and signs, “No, I mean, like, when I fall asleep on the couch and he carries me to our bed.”

Sam and Eileen laugh harder.

“I think it’s sweet,” Jack interjects. “I would never laugh at your relationship with Cas, Dean. You two love each other very much.”

Eileen rolls her eyes. “Yeah, perfect little angel over here has never said a mean word about anybody in his life. We get it, Jack, you’re better than us.”

Jack straightens his back and smiles, proud of himself. Dean passes by him on his way out of the kitchen and squeezes his shoulder in thanks.

“A baby, huh?” Dean asks excitedly as he rummages through his and Cas’ closet for some clothes. “We should plan on staying in the bunker with them for the first few months, you know, help them out and stuff.”

Cas scoffs from the master bath. “You just want to hold a newborn.”

“Yeah, so what?” Dean joins him in the bathroom, taking his towels off his head and waist and hanging them back up on the racks. He takes a piss while Cas stands at the sink messing with his hair.

Cas is wearing a pair of black joggers and a faded pink tank top, a denim overshirt sitting on the counter. A long chain rests against his chest between his big pecs, three rings hanging from them. Two of the rings are Dean’s old ones, and the third is a new one Dean picked out for him when they moved into their house together.

Dean checks his hip against Cas’, nudging him out of the way so he can wash his hands at the sink.

“Does it bother you that we can’t just accidentally have children?” Cas asks, turning toward Dean seriously, unaffected by his naked body.

“What? No,” Dean answers. “Why, does it bother you?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dean grabs deodorant and pushes Cas’ arm up so he can apply it for him. “We got plenty of kids, honey.” He does the other arm. “And we’re old. I don’t need us to be the sole provider of a child for the next 18 years.” He picks up the denim shirt and helps Cas put it on.

Cas places a gentle hand on Dean’s bare hip and rubs his thumb in circles against his skin. “I just think...I think about how perfect Jack is, and how if I was still an angel and could’ve borrowed a female vessel for a while, then maybe we could’ve…”

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” He pats the slope of his belly. “OK, no more jokes about you being pregnant. It’s fucking with your head.”

“Mm, yeah.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Dean’s mouth. “Now be honest with me, does this shirt make me look fat?”

Dean laughs as Cas expands his big stomach out and pulls at the fabric of the tank top to make it tight.

“You look perfect, sweetheart.” Dean jiggles his belly. “Fat and very gay.”

“Thank you.”

Dean puts on his usual jeans and flannel over a plain black t-shirt. He also has a necklace with a ring Cas gave him, but he wears it under his clothes and out of sight. He likes feeling it against his skin.

They eat a quick lunch with everybody before Sam and Eileen head out for their hunt. Cas and Jack go in the backyard to tend to Cas’ garden, which is full of beautiful flowers and absolutely no vegetables.

Jody shows up right when she said she would, and she passes Raven off to Dean before she’s even stepped in the door.

“I’m gonna spend the night here if you don’t mind,” Jody announces as she kicks her boots off.

Dean is cooing at the baby and tickling her belly with one finger. Right now she has dark olive skin and a head full of black hair and big gray eyes, but that could change any minute. Jody got her just a few months ago when she was trying to help her mom, a teenage shapeshifter, but the girl had a lot of complications and died during childbirth. She asked Jody to name the baby Raven after Mystique from X-Men.

Jody, claiming that she’s too old to raise a baby on her own, brings Raven over to Dean and Cas’ for at least one week per month.

“Dean?” Jody presses.

“Hmm?”

“I said I’m gonna stay here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.” He kisses the baby’s head. “Cas and Jack are outside. Make yourself at home.”

Under her breath, Jody says, “Give a baby to Dean Winchester if you want him not to pay attention to you at all.” She walks to the kitchen and puts on a teapot.

Cas barges in the back door and makes a beeline for Dean, his hands outstretched. “Baby,” he commands.

Dean frowns but hands Cas the baby anyway. He knows if he tries to hog her, he and Cas will have a petty fight about it later.

“Yeah, good to see you, too, Cas,” Jody says, still talking in a dejected tone, grabbing mugs out of the cabinet. “You look good, you been working out? Of course you have, look at you. Yeah, I know, I look good, too. New haircut. Thanks.”

“Hello, Jody,” Cas greets, turning toward her but keeping his eyes on the baby cradled in his arms. She looks impossibly small in his hold. “Your hair looks very nice.”

“Well, thank you, Cas,” Jody says smugly. “Would you like some tea?”

“Are you offering us tea in our own house?” Dean asks.

“You told me to make myself at home.”

Cas moves Raven up to his shoulder, spreading his long, thin fingers over her back to keep her in place with just one hand. With his other hand, he pulls out a barstool at the island and takes a seat. His tank top gets stuck between his underbelly and his lap, and Dean watches, transfixed, as Cas demurely lifts his butt off the chair and flicks his free hand against his shirt to unstick it.

“Dean? You OK?” Jody asks, amused.

“Hmm?” Dean whips his head toward her. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You looked a little lost there for a second, buddy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m very obsessed with Cas.”

Jody laughs. “It’s impossible to even make fun of you anymore. Like, if you’re going to be blissfully happy, at least act a little embarrassed about it.”

Dean walks over to Cas and puts his arm across his middle, presses his cheek firmly against the side of Cas’ chubby face and looks at Jody as he says, “No.”

“Jody, I would love a cup of tea,” Cas says, ignoring Dean. “Thank you.”

Raven fusses and nuzzles against Cas’ shoulder, so Dean reaches his arms out for her and says, “Too much muscle in your shoulder, she can’t get comfy.”

As Cas hands the baby over, he says, “Yes, because your bony body is so much better.”

“Do you guys even like each other?” Jody interrupts.

“No,” Dean and Cas answer in unison. They then look at each other and smile.

Cas asks Jody about the girls, which gets her on a long-winded rant, so Dean kisses Cas’ hair and heads out the back door with Raven. He walks across the porch and takes a seat on the porch swing and watches as Jack stands in front of a flower, says something to it, then moves onto the next flower and says something else.

“Are you talking to every flower, kid?” Dean calls.

Jack turns and tilts his head with a gentle smile. “I didn’t hear you come out here, Dean. Yes, I’m giving each of them longer lifespans.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

It’s mesmerizing, swinging back and forth and watching Jack tend to the flowers. Raven falls asleep quickly, tucked up facedown against Dean’s chest with her head turned to the side.

“See, I’m plenty easy enough to fall asleep on,” he mutters to her.

Jody comes outside a few minutes later, tea in hand. Dean scoots over so she has room to sit next to him on the swing. She doesn’t say anything, just takes a seat and drops her head to his shoulder.

“You know we can keep the kid longer if you need us to,” he says. “Cas has baby fever, so I’m sure he’d be thrilled.”

“Hm. I might,” Jody considers. “Alex is really attached to her though. I am, too, but. I don’t know. It’s different for me.”

“You never thought about having a baby again in your life, did you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.”

Cas walks out next and stops right outside the door, staring straight ahead at Jack. Cas has both his wrists bent against his hips, hands palm out, straight-back posture making his gut look more pronounced than it already is.

“Hey, Jody,” Dean starts, his eyes on Cas.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think Cas is different? I mean, different than how he was as an angel.”

Jody snorts. “Um. That Cas looks like he would eat angel Cas for breakfast.”

“No, I don’t mean—” Now Dean is laughing, too. “Obviously he looks different. I mean, like, the way he’s standing right now. Don’t you think it looks a little…you know…”

“Gay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, yeah, but only slightly gayer than he used to act.”

Dean balks at that. “What? Really?”

“Honey, I knew Cas was gay the second time I met him. Sure, he’s definitely more comfortable and open and maybe a little more, uh, effeminate now, but he’s always been pretty clearly gay. No offense, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Hm. Well, I’m paying attention now. Very close attention.” He surreptitiously licks his lips.

After a pause, Jody asks, “How did you live so many years of your life unaware of how horny you are for him?”

Dean puffs out a breath. “Shit, I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Like, I have a sleeping baby on me right now—one of my favorite things in the world—and yet it’s taking all of my willpower to keep sitting here with you instead of going to put my stupid hands all over him.”

Cas turns toward them then, offering a close-mouthed smile and a delicate wave of his hand, totally oblivious. “Jack is talking to the flowers,” he says loudly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says back, less loudly so as not to wake the baby. “Powerful as God, and he’s here talking to our fucking plants.”

Cas furrows his brow. “What did I say about cursing?”

Dean rolls his eyes.

They all hang out outside until Raven wakes up and cries for food, so Dean takes her inside and paces around the kitchen while he gives her a bottle. Cas walks through on his way to the bathroom, and Dean stops him with a, “Hey. C’mere.”

“What?” Cas asks, smiling as he closes the distance between them.

Dean leans to the side, keeping the baby steady as he kisses Cas on the lips.

Cas shakes his head when they pull apart. “You have zero impulse control.”

“See Cas, touch Cas. That’s how my brain works.”

His smile widens. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”

Later, Dean is in charge of getting Raven down for the night, Jody is taking a nap upstairs, and Jack and Cas are out picking up takeout for dinner.

The four of them eat at the kitchen table, and Dean inhales his food quickly so he can relax and sling an arm over the back of Cas’ chair while everyone else finishes. He rubs and scratches at Cas’ back while they all talk, occasionally looking over to watch Cas eat. With how muscular he is, Cas would have to have a high-calorie diet even if he didn’t also just love food, but still he eats slowly and properly as he demolishes at least twice as much as everybody else.

Dean, itching to move and sick of being in the same spot for too long, eventually leans over and nips and kisses at Cas’ neck and face, forcing him to eat even slower. Every so often, Cas turns and pecks Dean on the lips in acknowledgment of his ministrations.

“Dean, you look smaller every time I come over here,” Jody says.

“No, optical illusion. It's 'cause Cas is getting bigger,” Dean responds. He pats a loving hand against Cas’ full belly. “He can’t help that he looks extremely cute like this.”

Mouth full of food, Cas turns his head and kisses Dean’s temple in thanks.

“No, I definitely think you’ve lost weight,” Jody continues.

“Yeah, I think you have,” Cas says. “Not that you weren’t skinny before, but you’ve lost weight since you stopped drinking.”

“Mm. Yeah, I guess.” Dean puts a hand on his own stomach, noting how flat it is. He ignores the heat rising to his cheeks at the basic knowledge that Cas notices things about him.

After dinner, Jack asks if they can watch a movie together in the living room, which they of course oblige. Dean can count on zero hands the amount of times he and Cas have told Jack “no” when he’s at their house.

Cas privately asks Jody if she wants a glass of wine, which she turns down. Dean sees the conversation take place as he’s turning the TV on due to his inability to take his eyes off Cas for even one minute.

Jack, god help him, picks some tragic foreign language film and sits cross-legged on the couch with Jody. Cas and Dean settle in sideways on the loveseat, Cas’ back up against the armrest and one leg hanging off the side so Dean can sit between his thighs and rest back against his chest. Dean rubs his fingertips against Cas’ knee and listens to him unwrap candy after candy, occasionally offering one to Dean.

After about 15 minutes, Dean turns his head and cocks an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas looks back at him, confused, as he puts another candy in his mouth. “What?” he whispers.

“You’ve had, like, 20 of those.”

Cas’ face changes into gay bitchiness as he unwraps another one. “Now who’s the nagging wife?”

“Can you two can it?” Jody asks at a regular volume. “I’m trying to hear what these sad French people are saying.”

Dean ignores her and whispers to Cas, “I don’t give a shit about you stuffing your face, babe, I just wish your hands were more Dean-focused.”

“Oh. Of course, Dean.” Cas tosses a wrapper aside and puts his arms around Dean’s torso, squeezing him firmly back against him.

“Mm, that’s better.” Dean snuggles down and bends his arm up to feel Cas’ bicep.

Jody shushes them again.

Cas presses a chocolatey kiss to the bolt of Dean’s jaw and moves one hand across his waist, teasing with the waistband of his jeans. Dean grabs his hand, stopping him.

“Not in front of the kid, dude,” Dean says through gritted teeth.

“I’m not doing anything,” Cas says innocently, his lips still on Dean’s skin.

Jack pauses the movie and looks over at them with a smile. In a sweet, polite tone, he asks, “I don’t mean to be rude, but can you guys please shut the fuck up?”

Cas nudges his head against Dean’s in fake annoyance. “What did I tell you? What did I fucking tell you, Dean?”

Dean can’t stop laughing. “Yes, Jack, we’ll shut the fuck up.”

With nobody to talk to and with Cas carding his perfect fingers through his hair, Dean falls asleep within 10 minutes. He half-wakes up a little while later and finds himself curled up on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest, using his big boyfriend as a bed, his big arms a blanket, big pecs a pillow. Cas’ chest vibrates beneath his ear as he whispers something to Jody, but Dean doesn’t hear it. He balls his hand into a fist and nuzzles his face against Cas’ shirt like a baby and falls back asleep.

When he wakes up again, it’s because Cas is trying to carefully lift him up and take him to bed. He wraps both arms around Cas’ neck and his legs around his waist and hangs on tight as Cas stands, only one of his muscular arms wrapped around Dean’s butt to hold him in place.

“Wow, he really has you whipped,” Jody whispers to Cas.

Cas responds completely seriously, “Why else would I exercise so much if not for this?”

“G’night, Jody,” Dean mutters against Cas’ neck.

“Night, little baby Dean.”

Dean smiles, his eyes still closed. “I like that.”

Jody sighs. “Seriously. Impossible to make fun of him.”

Cas starts walking toward their room as he says, “Dean is an all or nothing person. So many years with so much shame, now he has absolutely none.”

“Hmm. Yeah,” Jody replies. “Night, Cas.”

Dean is fully awake by the time Cas lays him gently down on the bed. He gets up immediately, changes into pajamas and goes to the master bath to brush his teeth. Cas joins him at the sink, wearing just boxer briefs and one of Dean’s shirts. It barely covers his belly button.

“You can’t possibly be comfortable in that,” Dean mumbles with a mouth full of foamy toothpaste. “I don’t get why you’re still wearing my shirts to bed. I told you, you stretch them out and then I can’t wear them.”

Cas spits his own toothpaste into the sink and looks up at Dean through the mirror as he wipes his mouth. “Until the sleeves cut off circulation in my arms, I will keep wearing your shirts to bed.”

Dean pulls at the hem of one of the sleeves, pointing out where Cas snipped it with scissors. “Cheater.”

Once they’re in bed, Dean presses up against Cas’ side, throws one leg over him, buries his face in the crook of his neck, squeezes his butt.

“Finally,” Dean says against his skin. “I’ve been dying to touch you all day.”

Cas smiles and wraps an arm around Dean’s back, shoving his hand down his pants to grab his ass. “Yes, and you showed remarkable restraint by not touching me at all today.”

“C’mon, you know what I mean.”

Cas hums, thinking. “You don’t like having your attention divided. If you can’t focus fully on me, it feels like you’re being deprived of something.”

“Yeah.” Dean rolls completely on top of Cas and kisses the pocket of fat under his chin. “Don’t let it go to your head, though. It’s not like I’m, like, completely obsessed with you or something crazy like that.”

Cas smiles into a kiss, putting his hand to the side of Dean’s face to pull him down to his lips. Dean groans in the back of his throat and rolls his hips.

“Do you want to have sex?” Cas asks between their mouths, like he almost always does, because he has a take-it-or-leave-it attitude about sex and is perfectly content with any amount of physical contact with Dean, no matter how little. So he leaves it up to Dean: a person who needs to touch Cas so badly all the time that he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

“No, not with us on baby duty,” Dean says. “Let’s just make out until I fall asleep.”

“Mm, that’s exactly what I fell from grace for.”

Dean laughs and pinches his shoulder, kisses the corner of his mouth. “Hey, you knew me when you fell. You knew what you were getting yourself into.”

Cas’ face softens. He rubs the pad of his thumb slowly across Dean’s cheek. “I did. I was willing to give up everything without ever even knowing what your lips feel like against mine. So, excuse me for thinking every second with you now is just icing on the cake.”

Dean blinks. “You’re getting better at food metaphors now that you eat so much.”

Cas allows him to trivialize the moment. He just simply smiles up at him as he wipes a tear from Dean’s face.

So Dean closes his eyes and kisses him, slowly, until he falls asleep.

-----

Dean wakes up to the sound of Raven crying over the baby monitor. She only cried once during the night, when she shapeshifted into a fat pale baby with brown eyes and thin hair and needed a bottle and a change before going back to sleep. Now it’s morning, and Dean blinks awake to the sunlight streaming onto his face. He’s on his stomach, arms wrapped around a pillow under his head, his skin unreasonably warm.

He shifts and feels Cas’ heavy arm draped across his back, his chubby hip squished against his side. Dean shuffles and turns, picking Cas’ arm up and kissing his hand before setting it on the bed and standing up.

Cas is also facedown on the bed, but instead of getting up, he burrows deeper and mumbles sleepily, “Start the coffee, please.”

Dean pinches a sliver of his love handle and leans down to kiss his cheek. “I’ll bring you a cup. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Cas snores softly in response.

It’s early. The house is dimly lit and quiet, and Dean takes his time changing and feeding Raven. When she’s done with her bottle, he puts her on his hip and carries her out to the back porch to listen to the birds. His phone rings.

“Yeah?” Dean answers.

“Hey,” Sam says. “So, uh.”

“Spit it out, Sam.”

“You know our new rule?”

“Not monsters until they act monstrous,” Dean says, his heart racing. “What happened?”

“Nothing too bad. It’s just that, uh, we think this pack of werewolves may have abandoned their, uh, young.”

“How old? How many?” Dean asks quickly.

“Twins. They’re small, Dean. Six months at most.”

Dean looks at Raven then at the garden in front of him. He thinks about Cas, about how wonderful of a father he is, about what he said yesterday. Then he says, “Well. Bring ‘em here if there’s no other option. We got the space.”

#destiel #chubby cas #15x18 #destiel fic #tf #my fics #my canon fics #i know i've changed some characterizations here but uh that's kinda the point of the fic #to demonstrate the changes in dean and cas were they to live their gay life together without shame!#anyway this is maybe my favorite thing i've ever written so um #please enjoy or i'll die

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lue-arlert · 3 years

Text

My Pet

18+ MDNI (minor and ageless blogs will be blocked)

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A/N: this fic is dedicated to @docoooo, hope you enjoy it bby uwu

Pairing: Erwin Smith x AFAB reader

WC: 2.3k

Content warnings: use of pet names, established relationship, size kink(?), crying, creampie

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Erwin wanted nothing more than to come home to you. This expedition was coming to an end, the remaining soldiers on their way home. They only suffered the loss of two comrades; Erwin would say “luckily,” but it was never lucky to lose anyone.

He hadn’t seen you in over a week, not only from the expedition, but also your own obligations at the hospital within Wall Rose, tending to the sick and injured. The scouts returning from beyond the walls would be entering this medical facility, some needing stitched up, others needing dislocated joints and bones to be set in place.

Erwin only suffered a gash in his leg, from his own reckless handling of his snap blades, nicking himself when he swung too furiously at the nape of a 15 meter Titan.

As they all entered the hospital, your lover searched the wing for any sign of your shimmering hair color standing out from the crowd, but he frowned deeply when he could not find you. This meant someone else would be tending to their wounds.

An hour passed and his leg was stitched and bandaged, relieving him that he could finally retire home. He escorted some of his soldiers to carriages outside of the facility to see that they too would return home safely, giving them farewells and well wishes that they recover quickly.

Finally making it to his own home at the headquarters, he unlocked his door with a fluttering stomach, hoping to whatever god that you would be waiting for him.

“My love!” Your voice rang through his ears like the sweetest melody, his shoulders drooping with relief finding you sitting up in the large bed.

You were in a sheer robe with your unclothed nipples peeking through, your barely damp hair and the floral aroma of the room indicating you had recently bathed in his private bathroom.

He collapsed on the bed beside you on his hands and knees, being mindful of the gash on his leg as he leaned over and planted a tender kiss on your plush pink lips. “Hello, my pet.” He sighed contently, carefully laying on his stomach.

“How was the expedition?” You leaned on your elbow, knees bent over each other, and you reached out to stroke his perfect blond hair from his thick brow.

“We only had a couple casualties. There will be a small funeral for them tomorrow.” He took your hand from his hair and kissed your knuckles as he shut his eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, my love.” You leaned forward and gingerly kissed his hair. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”

“It’s alright, I understand.” He rolled onto his side and brought his hand up to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb beneath your eye. “I’m glad I get to see you now.”

You grinned widely at him and rested your palm over his hand, leaning into his touch and kissing the base of his palm just above where his wrist began. “I requested to be off for the next three days so I could see you. I didn’t know exactly when you were returning, so I just guessed.”

His heart fluttered at your dedication to him, your loyalty to him forever being the staple that held your relationship together. His eyes were full of desire for you, the way your hair fell around your shoulders and your eyelashes brushed your cheeks was one of the most beautiful sights he’d seen in recent memory.

“I want to make love to you, my pet.” He said with a low, calm tone. “I need to make love to you.”

Your grin grew soft and you pulled away from his touch, slipping your robe off your shoulders and arms until it pooled around your ass and thighs.

Erwin couldn’t help but admire your body, the way your collarbones stuck out looking so kissable, the swell of your breasts so delicious, your belly soft and pudgy as you sat on your hip. He could never grow tired of the sight of you, especially when you smelled so lovely while looking so beautiful.

His hand found its way to your thighs, resting over the strong muscle and giving gentle squeezes. He could feel his cock growing in his trousers at the silky feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips, and he reached his touch up to your stomach, grazing his fingernails across the span of it.

You sighed happily through your nose and laid on your back, looking down at him while running your fingers through his hair. “Come make love to me.”

Pulling himself up to his hands and knees once more, he crawled over you, nudging your legs so that the backs of your thighs rested on the top of his, his leather straps from his gear cool against your skin.

He pulled your hips up so that your core was pressed against his lap and he began to massage your breasts, one of his favorite features of yours. He adored the way they fit so perfectly in his large palms, your nipples sitting delicately between his knuckles.

“So fucking beautiful for me,” he grumbled, leaning down to kiss your throat. “Perfect body,” he planted a kiss, “perfect pussy. Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Whatever you want, Erwin, you can have.” Your hands slid up his arms and around to his shoulder blades beneath his forest green cloak, the fabric tickling your bare arms. After groping him for some time, you brought your hands back to the clasp of his cloak and undid it, tossing it to the floor and following suit with his uniform jacket, the leather smooth beneath your touch.

With hot lips, saliva trailing with them, he kissed from your throat over your clavicle, leaving bites and purple splotches on the way, eventually taking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue over the bud, exhaling through his nose at the pleasure it gave him to be able to suck on your tit. He continued to massage the other breast, pinching every so often to produce tiny squeaks from you.

Your hips slowly rocked as you grabbed onto the gear straps across his chest, fumbling with the buckles with shaky hands as his mouth continued to work on you, leaving hickies around your areola.

“Erwin, th’feels so good, my love.” You whined, pushing your hips further into his crotch. “Could cum just from this.”

He smirked against your skin and bit harder than he already was, suckling more fervently at the challenge to make you lose yourself beneath him. He would slap your tits, pulling his mouth away with a pop! as he did so.

Your moans from the impact rattled in your throat, and you could feel a wetness pooling in your panties the harder he slapped your perfect mounds, followed by soothing licks and kisses.

“Will you cum for me, my pet?” He asked in a low voice, glancing up at you through his long eyelashes.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop.” You gripped the sheets beside your head, elbows pointing to the ceiling as your back arched into his mouth, his suckling increasing painfully.

With one last squeeze and one last solid bite around your nipple, you came undone beneath him, squirming and moaning at the pleasure that coursed through you to your pussy.

You called out his name and brought a hand to the back of his head, your fingertips grazing the stubble of his undercut.

He let out his own soft moan at the way your hips rolled over his full erection and he released your breasts, sitting up on his haunches to begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Wanna put my cock inside of you and fuck that beautiful cunt of yours.”

“Please, my love,” you begged, replacing his touch with your hands over your breasts, squeezing as you wiggled your hips and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Erwin scooped his hands under your knees and pushed them up to your chest, scooting back to give himself enough room to undo his trousers, releasing his girthy member as he shoved his pants down to his knees.

Biting your lip as you admired his curved cock, you lifted a foot and rested your ankle on his shoulder, your toes brushing the side of his neck. “I want you inside of me, want you so bad, Erwin.”

He groaned at your whining and crawled over you once more after removing your leg from his shoulder, peppering kisses on every inch of your chest and the knuckles that still kneaded your own breasts.

His fingers traced little swirls on the insides of your thighs until they reached your pussy, gently pressing over the damp spot of your panties. “Can’t wait any longer, my pet, need you now.”

“Yes,” you breathed, nodding as you gazed up at him with your glassy, lust-filled eyes.

Your lover pushed aside the fabric that trapped your pretty folds and he hoisted your hips up, grazing his cock through your wetness to lubricate himself. “Are you ready?” He asked kindly, lining his tip with your throbbing hole.

“I’m ready,” you nodded once more and reached your hands out to hold his forearms, your nails grazing and digging into his skin in preparation.

With a delighted sigh, he slowly pushed himself into you, glancing down to ensure you were okay. When he saw you pinch your eyes shut and your nose scrunch, he reached out to touch your cheek and stroked your skin gently. “Deep breaths, pet. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled heavily through your nose, then exhaled through puffed cheeks as your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Just a couple more,” he whispered as he inched further into you, encouraging your breathing exercise while he spread you apart.

“So big, Erwin,” your voice rasped as your fingers shook around his wrists. “So big, it hurts.”

“Just another moment, pet, then I’ll make you feel good.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, careful not to move too sharply to avoid hurting you further.

After you left small butterfly kisses on his chin, you nodded to let him know you were ready for his cock.

He slowly rocked his hips, his length barely moving inside of you to give you an easy start, and he took every whimper of yours into his mouth as he kissed you calmly.

Your ankles were crossed against his lower back and you used your calf muscles to squeeze his waist, pulling him deeper into you. “‘M ready, Erwin, faster,” you breathed against his face, your nose squished against his.

He obliged your words and quickened his pace, pulling out of you further and thrusting more harshly into your soaking pussy, groaning from deep in his throat. He’d missed your clenching walls, missed the way his dick was massaged by your velvety insides; it’d been too long since he had you, too long since he could enjoy your skin and your touches and your tightness.

Erwin wrapped a hand around your bottom, the other under your back and used all of his core muscles to hoist you up off the mattress, holding you against him while he bounced you on his cock, gripping your ass and back tightly in order to keep you steady against him.

Your pleasured squealing in his ear only made him harder, somehow, and he plowed deeper into you, breathing heavily against your face.

“Feel so good around me,” he grunted, staring into your crying eyes and wiping away a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

Your mouth hung open, tongue lulled gently against your lower lip, and you began to drool at the feeling of his tip brushing against your spongy spot that sent waves of shivers and twitching through your limbs.

He pecked a quick kiss on the top of your tongue and adjusted you so that one hand was hooked under your knee, bending it against his side over his arm, giving him deeper access. With a harsher thrust, he brushed your cervix, causing you to cry out and lean your head back as your hips spasmed against his.

You chanted his name and dug your nails into his shoulder and the back of his neck, desperately hanging onto him as he pounded into you, his balls slapping the seam of your ass violently with each thrust.

He growled against your mouth as he kissed you, his nose and eyes twitching each time your cunt tightened around him. “Gonna cum inside of you, my pet, gonna fill you up,” he groaned and bit at your cheek before pulling his face back to look into your eyes as his hair began to stick to his sweaty forehead.

“Please, Erwin, please, I want you to fill me.” You whined as you kissed his cheek, trailing your lips to his ear where you gently bit at his lobe, your whimpers growing higher as he fucked into your g-spot. “Wanna come with you, s’close.”

He kept his pace, squeezing your ass as he panted and groaned, his cheeks red and glistening.

You gasped as your second orgasm hit you, rippling through your cunt making you clench even tighter around him, and your voice grew into a high squeal in his ear.

He grunted your name loudly then let out a deep, rumbling growl as he spilled inside of you, stuffing you with his creamy seed that soon dripped from your hole, too much for your cunt to handle.

Erwin continued to fuck you both through your highs until his thighs shook violently and he could no longer support the two of you, stumbling down on top of you as he caged you in his arms over the mattress.

You moaned and panted together, both twitching from your climaxes as your noses and lips brushed over one another.

He kissed you silently; no words needed to be exchanged between the two of you, for your feelings could be displayed through your touches and loving sighs.

Erwin had missed your body, and now that he had you once more, he never wanted to part from you or feel what it’s like to miss you ever again.

#erwin smith #erwin x reader #aot smut #snk smut #aot fic #snk fic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #fanfic #smut #lue writes

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