#like he isn't even doing this shit on purpose - this is just Who He Is when he's with will!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[erosmutt]

lots of people won't like this, but I'm saying it.

If you haven't watched a movie/show of Hayden's (Higher Ground, Shattered Glass, Little Italy, American Heist, The Last Man, etc.) you shouldn't write for his character.

There are SO many people who inaccurately write for his characters and it drives me up a wall.

No, Scott isn't just misunderstood. He's a dickhead, materialistic jock.

No, Stephen isn't ignorant. He knew exactly what he was doing the entire time.

NO, Sam isn't just a hot, goth white boy. He's an asshole junkie brat who's purposely not trying to repair broken relationships with several different family members.

Those are just some examples of popular characters.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing the same shit over and over. Of course, that begs the question: "Then why don't you write it your damn self?"

I DO.

I have multiple things in my drafts. I hesitate to post them because I feel like I'm writing for an audience. Then I realized I'm writing for myself, and people enjoying my work is just a major bonus!

The point of me saying this is that you can't just watch all the Hayden scenes in a movie. WATCH THE MOVIE. There are a shit ton of things he's been in that shows his versatility as an actor, but it seems everyone just lumps all his characters into one category: silly misunderstood babygirl.

There are people who don't write his characters like that, I'm well aware. I just want us to switch it up.

And who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy the movies and shows. If you don't, you never have to watch them again. Just don't write for a character you know nothing about.

Am I a Hayden character connoisseur? Yes. Yes I am. Have I watched all his movies? Not yet, no. I plan on getting through them all.

And... why do we only write for his "most popular" characters? Sam and James are my boyfriends, yes, but for fucks sake, WRITE FOR SOMEONE ELSE!

There isn't a lot of Scott on here. I have yet to see a Leo fic, everyone turns Stephen into nerd!Ani, no Lorenzo, I'm sure none of you have even HEARD of Outcast!! Come on, guys. If I said Jake Hill Conley would anyone have a clue what movie I was talking about? No.

I said all this to say: EXPAND YOUR HORIZONS! The other movies won't bite.

౨ৎ end of bnuuy talk.

[dennisboobs]

some of you should not speak on dennis until you've rewatched sunny in full instead of just the macden-centric eps.

[ice-sculptures]

i haven't been able to get much writing done this week so here's another small pre-written snippet of two lives intertwined (one yours, one mine) for miwip wednesday :)

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about dream daddy again and god brian makes me so mad

[unproduciblesmackdown]

thinking about how of course billions is about people trapped in eternal battle world, and trapped because they won't ever exit, and don't want to because that's the only way they can define their idea of themself or like move through life, to the degree they have to just create or find another battle if one ends or they don't have enough going on at once or they're unhappy about anything & can only respond to that the only way they'll respond to anything: finding someone to consider a target to Defeat & being like nice, i'm so competent & active as a person, so with any other issues in my life, i'm sure it's not my fault at least

and it's been clear that to be someone at the Center of the show means needing to be inflexible enough to never leave that life, which also probably means never engaging in genuine self-reflection besides like, fuming in distress for 5 sec & then immediately searching for blame for someone else, or calling up your designated moral supporter who'll tell you you're upset b/c you're very complex & sympathetic & maybe if you do [xyz] you'll be able to Keep Winning, so like, don't worry, we'll never get too off track here. you have someone like connerty who cares so much about playing by the rules ft. ethics, but he was also someone completely inflexible who would give a shit like "ha ha you broke the law" and be Defeated b/c like yeah damn you do got him in that situation. he may then have gained the flexibility to throw a punch when he's already imprisoned but he's still just gotta retire & pursue some completely different goals

this in contrast with like, what a coincidence (surely not) that the more flexible characters are the ones who also do introspect & reflect & genuinely think about & question themselves ever, & how even beyond that, being in this world of people who overwhelmingly are thee opposite & aiming for a static sense of self & thus strategy for navigating life & all interactions & situations, the more reflective parties also tend to accept both Blame & the fruitlessness of pushing for more/different/better from the people & relationships & situations they're amongst. those willing to take on responsibility at all surrounded by people casting all of it off, always, w/the former already primed to take blame & the latter primed to be looking to find the blame in anyone else, a powerful mismatch....which allows the flexible parties to also put up with shit for longer lol like if they got fed up that quickly or recognized the dead-end here they'd just leave the show lol. like wow can't believe taylor spent their whole life already stuck having to deal with someone who's so very much like these bullshit central men & those trying to emulate them, & perhaps also then have a lifetime of experience extending endless patience & sympathy with little to no expectations for more from people who put up with such a bullshit man & his effects on everything around him, like, what do you mean taylor's mom hasn't seen them b/c douglas didn't want to see them b/c he wasn't yet motivated enough to have to exercise begrudging shows of basic respect. whilest sure seems like taylor felt more concern & basically stated their responsibility re: trying to make their relationship with their dad work / basically take on the task of making his life work for him according to his sense of himself (genius! who deserves the recognition thusly!) and doesn't seem to take on this role re: their mom, who nevertheless is just presumed to move closer to them along w/douglas. and here's taylor never truly putting their foot down re: wendy, no matter what, able to have no real positive expectations in how wendy treats them or thinks of them, but also always able to extend sympathy / decent treatment themself

thinking of like team ben out here as the Nicer axe cap or mpc people who also happen to be people absorbing the L's, blaming themselves for being at the bottom of the hierarchy & being subjected to the always negative treatment doled out to them accordingly, and, winstonesquely, still generally like extending genuine gestures of amicability, efforts of constructive actual communication, etc, & this being shut down & likely punished by all the people around them who won't handle that kind of thing. that Of Course nobody's actually supported around here, like, at best they'll get some kind of "well you're actually talented & valuable :)...." (so why aren't they already treated in a way such that they're aware of this?) "....so just have more confidence already god!" wherein (a) again that just means it's Their Fault that they're having a miserable time at the hands of others & (b) their having "confidence" doesn't really mean like, an emotional buffer between their sense of self-esteem & the message of inferiority in how they're treated, it has to mean externally acting different in some ways, more like A Winner, more like everyone else. the limits of ben trying to sometimes be a buffer for tuk as that kind of friend/mentor role, where either it simply fails or ben's Help is more unilateral "correction." that generally only any increase in aggressive hostility gets them anywhere, and really not that far.

the way dollar bill could always act however he wanted & they could always clean up his messes / save him from himself / just flatout blame other people for what dollar bill did to them or someone else; success in being a mini axe in that way for sure. dollar bill going off the rails over his literal dollar bill & that's not a problem, he's validated b/c he's upset, & b/c rudy knew he'd be upset it's really all rudy's fault....who just so happens to be more of a loser, what with his glasses & possible masturbation ever and all. whilest even when dollar bill is like every season being shit at his job & life, well, just find a loser to trounce while everyone ignores this, cheers you on, takes on responsibility for fixing things for you, blames the person targeted probably. dollar bill couldn't even do in office transphobic hate crime physical attacks, or that but while yelling the r word at the autistic guy he's already harrassing & threatening, without it being really basically the target's fault, & hey, as long as no investors are watching. and we're still dragging dollar bill back to the office b/c uhhh yeah!!

& then of course there's winston, who, like a loser, says things in real efforts for real communication with others, that they winningly can only bring themselves to respond to as "he's not allowed to talk, that's out of line, i have to punish/deny this to reassert our respective status" except for, sometimes, taylor actually communicating in turn, or even simply receiving the information. winston in a duo with the very winning & worthy rian, being something of a quasirival for 5 seconds but even during then, and since, trying to be amicable to establish an actually positive dynamic, trying for actual communication, engaging flexibly & actively based on her feedback & her terms & etc to try to find some more success; versus rian completely inflexible, unwilling to respond to efforts to communicate, unwilling to have an actual relationship with any flexibility & genuineness in turn, or see winston as a person of course, and engage with real emotions. which is hardly an exclusive response of hers, like, everyone else is just the same, she's just also the one interacting with him more often and personally bullying him & standing next to him & immediately responding with clear contempt when he tries things like earnest expressions of "hey rian could you not do what you just did b/c it makes me feel like shit, probably b/c that's what you're trying to do" and "hey that was cool what you just did b/c it makes me feel like—" b/c like, what a loser. real winners cannot handle engaging with another person as a person. when you can just make up & stick to a narrative about "oh but i don't hate winston, who i feel is inherently beneath me. i wouldn't wanna feel bad about killing him, not when i could feel fine about administering more of a death by a thousand cuts with some other people helping out & hey maybe it was their cut that did it after all....but also if you're like 'pwease' then eh sure" or that winston's got a lesser inner existence anyways, some classic dehumanization, no complexity there, & hurting him isn't real, & it'd never be you in his position anyways! especially the more you're buying into "yeah i'm more of a person / more deserving / more real & sympathetic & correct than him :)" & being cheered on as you act that out. pretty cringe of winston to be earnest, flexible, openly trying & wanting & needing things, sounds bad & silly. unlike the winners around him who really cannot handle him or any of these things about him. of course near equivalent in loserness, tuk, is the person with the realest most amicable relationship with him. both of them too incompetent to realize their mutual failings in this, ha ha, real winners are repulsed & fleeing & can't handle a basic exchange with either of them. and the imbalance re: how little others are willing to give them in interest, consideration, time, words, etc, while they're always trying Too Much re: the disinterested others, totally proves their unworthiness

winston and tuk always having to stay at the bottom of the hierarchy, winston only able to be shitted on even as he extricates himself, ending up surrounded by people who will only act "correctly" according to their superior roles & this mf wags only processing anything as "did that reinforce my being a correct/winning person???" & only responding by trying to reassert to others how much of a winner they are, which requires establishing a loser, and crushing them. winston having recognized / gotten fed up with a bullshit scenario & had realistic expectations of those around them & spent those years being treated like shit yet never crushing an enemy to restore his ego & also spent those years trying to communicate and work with others and share actual info and make actual connections & now independently choosing to make a big shift in his life so that things can be different? is definitely the contemptible loser here while everyone else looks very good faffing around for an episode getting some temporary ego boosts & being very "correct" in every response to winston, even pointing out that rian even noticing something genuine & positive from winston in the absence of it anywhere is first & foremost incorrect, which rian will Also immediately drop in the face of that "well yeah it's more correct to prioritize Anything else. like that he's pathetic & mpc 5ever" like wuh oh rian being doomed from 5x08 "time to embrace acting more correct now" & being truly inflexible from that point on, never had a moment of conflict not resolved by [ignoring that] &/or again just getting someone more correct to declare how it'll be answered. taylor at their most flexible and Taylorest and most juxtaposed with central men & static ossified "winners" when they are also at their best in engaging with winston. taylor Like winston & vice versa in so many substantial & interesting ways, despite their relating to / sympathizing with / devoting much more effort & interest to people more like the central men. that here we are, when taylor might have to give up on Being A Winner, someone who'll walk away with status & resources & a seamless transition into some established business foundation, to really get the wins that matter, against pince, &/or to clock out of a sunk cost factory, &/or to not have strangled every part of themself that can be in conflict with this general situation into eternal dormancy. don't You dare blame latency lol, the taylor who gets to exist outside the conditional "well i guess you're a winner who's very useful to me, like dumping work on you & blaming you if it goes awry. and you can act like a Real winner in the ways that really matter (crushing people)"....is also a taylor who can be rejected & shut down & shut out & have their value denied & be treated shittily despite even knowing they'd be / are good at this shit, superlatively even, & could never feel okay just being regarded as a tool stashed away at someone's disposal. & Has been treated shittly & is liable to accept blame, unilateral responsibility for other's selves & feelings & actions & lives, & marinate in self-loathing. while people who refuse any introspection, questioning, responsibility, awareness, etc, & refuse to handle the least of genuine interactions/relationships with others as real people, are glad to scoff at them & dismiss them & imply or assert their superiority, like, wow have You got a lot to learn, or maybe you can't b/c you're inherently inferior. all just like re: winston!

tl;dr shoutout to the flexible characters who like can & do reflect & change things up actually, just so happening to always be Losing for this in the [only way to win is not to play] arena of fake winners seeing if they can consider themselves superior to everyone else & only even possibly correct always & forever, in the pyramid scheme of social hierarchy & also capitalism

[rascheln]

The Monster Falls Apart & The Monster Exposed: forehead kisses and touches

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush��

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[kaizynofsickness]

Jealous, jealous, jealous

Synopsis: Nanami is such a good lover to you, why must you give your attention to someone who isn't even half the man?

Warnings: Rough sex, heavy smut, jealous themes, light spanking, PDA, semi-public sex, car sex, mentions of recordings, unprotected sex, marking, humiliation, possessive natures, small dacryphilla (of pleasure and pain) quickie, sex with plot (?), almost OOC nanami, AFAB reader.

❀´ ¸.☆¸.✿¸.•°*”˜ƸӜƷ˜”*°•.•.¸ღ¸☆´ ¸.✿´

A/N: this was requested from a poll I did.

You were smiling so much. It was such a pretty sight, the way your soft lips would make a loving smile and your little fangs would show. How could no one smile back to the way you cover you mouth to hide your loud laughter?

If only it was Nanami you looked at like that.

Your co-worker was such a lovesick puppy near you, anyone could tell. Nanami watched from a afar, after all, he was the one who offered if the three of you would go get some lunch together on your break. He instantly regretted ever offering the lunch. No, not because he was mad at you, you're his angel who would never do this on purpose, but the greedy man who certainly wanted more than to chat. The way his hand tried to snakes it way towards your... The way his eyes was wondering down and acting as if he could see from under the table, undressing you with his eyes.

"Hey, my love?" Nanami finally spoke up, gripping his tie hard, his knuckles going white and the veins easily noticed. To his call, you turn your head, the laughter dying down. "Yes?" You responded to him in such a sweet tone. He took a deep breath before answering (and glancing to the fool) to you. "Have you had your fill? I must take you back in about 20 minutes..." He checked his watch before his eyes landed on you, waiting for a response. "What? Already? but 20 minutes is a long time, don't worry! I won't be late..." You give him a playful pout before cheesing, trying to act cute to get yourself you out this situation. Nanami gruffed and shook his head at your mischievous behavior to get what you wanted, knowing it would work. "Yes, yes. But I'm in the rush to leave, darling."

"why? What's the rush? Enjoy your sandwich, 'nami."

If only it was that easy. He hated to watch the man basically flirt with you and it spoiled his appetite gravely. Your co-worker seemed to wait for you and Nanami to finish the little bickering that you obviously winning impatiently. That ticked poor Nanami off even more.

"okay, darling. We need to go." He got up from his seat and walked to you, sliding his hand gently over yours, helping you out of your seat. You groan in frustration but end up listening anyways, taking his hand into yours.

It didn't take you long when you got close to notice that his behavior and aura was off, not his formal and professional physique. He seemed to be off with something clawing down at his skin... you were worried a bit but brushed it off. "'kay, cya!" You give your co-worker a goofy little smile and wave goodbye happily. Your co-worker smiled back but got up at his chair.

Just when Nanami thought he could drop you to work and allow himself to collect his intriguing thoughts, your co-worker wanted to take it upon himself to help escort you and 'say his goodbyes probably.'

"sorry, sir. I'm escorting my love out." Nanami looked over to your co-worker and seemed to eye him up and down, thinking how much energy it would take from him to beat the shit out of the man.

Yet your co-worker was persistent, a trait you seemed to like because all you did was fucking laugh, and Nanami wouldn't tell at who. His grip on your hand tightens to avoid himself and casualties while his fingers interlocked with yours. You were getting a one sided vibe that wasn't normal to feel around Nanami, coming from him. It made your face contort into an intrigued and confused expression. You looked up at him, noting how his jaw clenched.

Oh, someone's jealous.

Poor Nanami... your flummoxed expression to this news slowly disappeared to a rather playful pout. "C'mon, don't be so stiff..." you pried you small hands from his. Nanami jolted when your warmth from your palm faded and he watched you literally take side to your co-worker. You tilt you head and look over to him with a little cheeky smile...

"Why can't we stay?"

He takes his time to analyze what was going on and he reads your body language; swaying hips, hands behind your back, exaggerated confused expression, a small smile trying to hide itself. He scoffed in his head, huffing out his chest. You were going to play the innocent card after noting his weakness? What a bitch move. "Okay... that's enough." His sweet tone and professional calmness was completely gone, a tone of authority and essential dominance laced in it. "We need to you, you cut your time down to 15 minutes with this act."

"but, we have to pay still, Nanami."

"let your co-worker pay. He seemed eager enough to be useful..."

You and your co-worker were both very shocked by his switch up; neither of you used to seeing this side of him. It made your co-workers nose scrunch you and your heart flutter. To avoid any further issues, you sashay over to your boyfriend, teasingly waving to your co-worker without turning around.

You follow Nanami to the car and wait for him to open the passenger door for you like he always does, yet he never gets to it. For a second, you thought he was that pissed off until he opened the back door. You looked almost offended at how he causally opened the back seat door to the car like you were some kid. "Get in, sweetheart." He waits, holding his watch, seeming to worry about the time a lot. You grumble something to yourself before getting in either ways because it was his car...

You were so used to being his passenger princess for him, now you're a backseat driver and it was almost humiliating, a grown ass person having to sit in the back when the front seat was open. "'nami..." You say his name like a shallow growl, looking at him in his review mirror he adjusted just to seemingly mock you. "What--"

"don't you like when I use all these nicknames on you, doll face?"

You were confused by the question but answered honestly anyways. "Yes, its a sweet way of speaking to me...?" You say almost as if it was a question. "Why wouldn't I?"

You can hear a small chuckle from Nanami at such an inconvenient time to be laughing at you. "And would you like them to continue, or rather be called a slut?" His tone was serious, no more mocking. He was clearly asking you something he needed to be answered right. You blinked a few times before almost cringing and scrunching your nose up. "Excuse me? Why would I want that? I love how sweet you are so..." You didn't even know how to respond. His gaze stayed on yours in the reflection of the mirror before he began to unbuckle his seatbelt and walk out. You say there for a bit until the door opens and he orders you to move over. Thinking nothing of it, you scoot over and his tall frame presses on you small one.

"Undress."

"..." You froze at the front up order like you were a pet, being told to take your clothes off in front of him in the parking lot of a bakery. "Did you not hear me? I asked you to strip. Now I am telling you."

You decided not to anger him too much and slowly lower your pants off and remove your blouse, unclipping your laces bra and tugging down at your laced panties. You were now bare and squeezed your legs shut while his eyes got to stare at what was put on display for him. What made it more embarrassing and humiliating for you is he was fully clothed and you were naked, all by his command.

"I just want to fuck you like the whore you were acting like..." he pulled you by your arm and jerked your whole body onto his lap and over his clothed hard on.

"I'm no whore..." You say meekly.

"Correct. You are no whore. You're my whore, darling." His hand roughly landed on your bare ass, making your back arch up as a natural reaction. Your thighs shake a bit around his legs, your pussy making his pants wet. Nanami enjoyed seeing your lips quiver from his actions, so he did it again, raising his hand higher and smacked your left cheek. You could feel the small heat, knowing it was turning red with the shape of his hand print.

"why are you doing this, damn it...?" You looked at him like he killed your puppy, feeling the humiliation spread from being on his lap and subtly grind you pussy against his hard cock that hid under his clothes. "The same reason you wanted to stay with your co-worker, darling..." He whispered into your ear before groping your ass hard, his nails digging into your soft flesh.

"For fun."

He bit down your earlobe to your neck, down the side to your collar bone and sucked on the flesh. You gasp out, hands finding the familiar spot on his back. He pulled away, leaving a hard and painful bruise and bites all over. It looked like an animal attack your neck... "Be a good slut and remove my belt for me." He muttered onto the skin of your neck, his breath tickling you. You whimper at his harsh wording but listen anyways like he wanted and your shaky hands move down to fondle with his belt as he laid back and watched. Your small hands reach down his pants and pull his hard cock out, leaking for you.

"and look what you did to me, grinding onto my dick like a needy and whiny girl. Feel better now you have it in your hands, hm?" He spanks you again, each hit getting harder with the other. Nanami doesn't even give you time to answer him before he lifts you up by your slutty waist and hammers you down, your unprepared nerves switching on all the sudden from his veiny cock sliding in your cunt. Loudly, you wail out from the hard slam, your back arched. It takes your body a second to process what just happened before your cunt greedily squeezes his cock for more.

Your reaction made Nanami laugh out loud before rubbing down your sexy arch and slapping you thighs around, really just toying with you. "Move your hips, my love."

You don't even protest and start to grind and roll your hips on him before lifting off half way to push back down, gripping his shoulders for support. Your body movements were teasing at slow, only because your wet hole wasn't even ready to be penetrated by him. He lays back and watches you bounce hungrily on his dick, trying to find out how to angle yourself so his tip hits your arching sweet spot.

"So damn greedy for my cock when you acted like some common fuck toy in the bakery?" He croons roughly, his hands behind his head, not helping your frustration when you wanna go faster. "Being a tease to me..." His grip on his head gets rougher at the thought of your co-worker being all buddy buddy with you. Instead of tugging at his hair, he tugs at yours, his right hand going to the back of your head and grabbing a handful, pulling your head back a little rough.

You whine out pathetically from the stinging pain that wasn't familiar with you. He was never this rough... "nami... please." Your lips quiver and eyes begin to gloss up. He would've taken pity on you in the state you're in, but for what you did instead of acting like his princess... You deserve a good punishment once in a while. "Tch, sweetheart. Sh, you don't wanna be too loud and let people walking by see you getting treated so well?" He said with a small snarl visible for you and loosened his grip on your hair for you to be able to look into his eyes. "'m sorry..." You say breathlessly while pouting, doing the same thing to try to get your way; acting all cute won't get you out of this one this time. And never again...

"I don't believe you, princess. Now, do what I said and bounce on my cock."

He gives you no room for argument and you comply, bouncing up and down and occasionally rolling your hips on him, getting your clit rubbed on his already wet pelvis. He groans out in delight, watching how you breasts bounce from every pump and the lewd ahego expression plastered on you innocent face. "Yes... Ngh, fuck, faster..." He grows inpatient and wants to put a huge load of his seed inside your cunt greedily, but at this slow pace he won't be able to in the short amount of time.

"fucking naughty girl can't even take an order right?" Nanami growls lowly before shifting himself with you still impaled on his dick before his big and rough hands go to your waist. Before you even get to breath right, all oxygen was knocked out of you when he pulled out fully and slammed you down onto his cock. He gave you no break and pounded roughly, feeling all your wetness seep down into his pants and ruin his boxers. He throws his head back as he basically uses you like his fleshlight. Your eyes water, sweet tears dotting out from the overstimulating pleasure and pain. All your nerves seem to be running just fine, making your walls hug his veiny cock perfectly.

"oh, suck a tight hole..." he mumbles off to himself, eyes closed in pure ecstasy.

"gunna cum..." you wince out with a small hiss as the pain melts into a pleasing pleasure that could kill, the knot in your stomach fluttering open before your cunt spasms. You squirt along his cock and ruin his boxers and pants even more, even his lower stomach. Nanami paused his movement and breathlessly laughs at how hard you had just orgasmed around him, making him a mess.

You let your body limb, mistaking him pause in movement as a finisher. But you were wrong, very, very wrong.

"no, no, no... not yet princess. Did I cum yet, hm?" He mocks you lightly, his free hand going to abuse you ass before he thrust into your swollen hole and slams you down.

"'nami, 'nami... s-stop---ngh--- I can't take no more, hmmph-" your voice was loud as he rocked the car with his thrust. Nanami ignores your cute pleases and was more focused on listening to your moans of his name and babbles from how he fucked you dumb. It felt good to know it was his cock you wanted, his cock that broke you inside and out, and made you squirt so fucking hard. No one elses.

His thrust became more desperate and sloppy, his head hanging low and he watches as his dick disappears into your cunt. "Oh... f--"

Right then, he holds your body down so he could let out a sweet load of hot cum in your pussy. He held you like that for a good 39 seconds, the feeling of cum seeping inside you tickling as your walls were painted white. You whimper from the feeling, your swollen cunt milking him was all he was worth as he empties his balls deep inside you.

With a satisfied groan, Nanami lifts you off. You lean over him, not wanting to let his cum drip out on his pants, ruining them more than you already did. "Ah... that's just what I needed," He quickly recovers unlike you and leans up just to shove two fingers in your pussy easily. "to have you walk around with my cum inside."

"W-what? But I have work--"

"i know," he says huskily in your ear. "That's why. I want you to get dressed again, love. Keep my cum inside for me, hm?" He says while he grabs his belt, weaving it back in the loops before shoving his dick back in. You utter a small 'fuck you' and put your panties on and they spoil wet from his cum slowly drip out. You dress back up, the scent of dirty sex filling the car and all over your body.

Nanami opens the car door and leaves to go to the driver's seat. "Uh, hey!" You pout. "I am not a backseat driver!" You lean over the armrest of his car and watch as he doesn't even acknowledges your whines.

But a violent jolt from his car starting makes you fall back, leaning on the middle seat. "Seatbelt on, darling." He deadpans and starts to pull out the parking lot, ignoring your protest.

With no other options, you lean over to the window seat and put on your seat belt.

"I hope you learned to not act like a street whore, darling." Nanami says in the silence of the ride. You roll your eyes, even if he can't see. You make sure your voice delivers the message enough with its tone. "I wasn't acting like no street whore... jus' wanted to see what you looked like jealous..." you justify. "And I don't think I ever wanna know again."

Nanami chuckles at your response. "Be lucky I didn't record it. Would've had a show for your nosy co-worker." He pulls into the front of your job and opens your door for you, always giving you princess treatment. You shoot him a cute annoyed glare and step out, radiating how mad you were for being a backseat driver. Even though, Nanami still gives you a kiss on your cheek and hugs you. "Have fun at work with a little reminder of me..."

[gremlingottoosilly]

Short!reader that constantly gets on their tippy toes or outright goes out of their way to bring a chair or wahtever to stand on to try and seem more threatening to König whenever they try to argue

4'10ft girlie who just wanna win an argument going against a 6'10ft horny ass Colonel, shit ain't gonna end well

If you want to finish the fight as soon as it starts, you can just climb on the chair and point your adorable finger at his chest in the form of an accusation...whatever conflict you have will be over in seconds - but mostly because Konig would grab you by your waist and push his lips on yours. He can't, for the love of his life, feel normal about you - you're fucking adorable, you're the most precious little thing there is in the world and he wants nothing more but to give as much love as possible...especially if you're mad at him. This is his bad side, unfortunately - he can't take you seriously, no matter how much you need him to. The relationships are supposed to be built on mutual respect, but Konig is just...not like this. And there isn't much you can do about him in this scenario - he is just kinda like this, a bit too gloomy, a bit too obsessive, a bit too much in love with a pretty thing like you. He obviously wants you to love him, but he can love you twice as much to compensate for any hatred from his precious, adorable tiny girlfriend... Honestly, he kinda likes making you mad - his abandonment issues are screaming at him, but he wants for you to be around and to yell at him for something he did...even if he has to behave a bit like a cat, causing problems on purpose so his angry girlfriend could get angry and then result in her getting extra dominating in bed...obviously, he won't let you be like this for long enough - whenever he feels like you got a bit too much power, he will just scoot over and push you even deeper.

[audrey-emeralds]

Smashing Diamonds

Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader

Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex

A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!

Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.

However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.

" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.

~~~time skip~~~

After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.

" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.

" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.

" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.

" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "

You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.

Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.

You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.

" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.

" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "

You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.

" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.

" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.

" In that case, drink the fuck up! "

Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.

You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.

Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.

" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.

" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.

" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.

" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.

" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "

" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.

" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.

The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.

Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.

Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.

As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.

The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.

Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "

Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.

His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.

You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "

" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.

" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.

" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.

" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "

He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.

You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.

You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.

" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "

" Is this what you came for? "

You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "

Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.

As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.

" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.

" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.

" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.

" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.

" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.

" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.

He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.

You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.

" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.

" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.

" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.

Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.

" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.

" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "

" We will see if you will. "

[yorsgirl]

Fuck you . Gladly

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The embers of your jealousy is fanned when girls forget that your boyfriend is not available. The only problem – silent treatment is your go-to reaction. Good for Sukuna, he knows how to make you talk.

Tropes: Established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, fellatio, spanking, degradation+praise, choking, rough/angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms(female), mentions of smoking and cheating, no curse AU, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count - 3.8k

A/N: nope, sorry, this isn't the Sukuna fic whose sneak peek was posted a few days ago. That's a long one so it's taking time, instead I am feeding you this. Enjoy :)

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

<Next>

Jealousy is a ugly thing.

From childhood, you were taught to always be poised and content with whatever you have. Limited resources, not the best outfit or not your desired commodities. Accepting and being satisfied with it was the norm.

Your mother said the same, "Jealousy is a ugly thing." When you admitted to be jealous over a certain classmate whose grades were higher than yours. I saw her cheating in the exam hall, words were on the tip of your lips but you resorted to keep the dirty secret to yourself.

Heard the same from your friend, "No need to be jealous, its the worst of emotions." When you fumed over how you can't go to a particular excursion (blame your strict parents) while she gets to go.

Jealousy is a ugly thing. Be content with whatever you have, even if it's not the best.

Oh- but fuck off to that age old quote that was thrown down your ears.

You get it. You really do, be glad with whatever you have and shit! And you are. You really are. But how could jealousy not play when others try to put their filthy hands on what is rightfully yours?

In this case, your boyfriend – Ryomen Sukuna.

You aren't particularly insecure about your relationship with him. Contray, you do trust him a whole lot and his mannerisms to the opposite gender doesn't defy your view of him. However, problems arise when a dumb bitch forgets that your boyfriend is not out in the market for her to rub herself.

Take yesterday for example – it wasn't long after Sukuna's practice match while you watched him from the bleachers. Silently, gushing to yourself of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked with the sweat dripping down his hair and forehead, the perspiration glistening on his skin and over his well sculpted abs when he pulled his jersey up to wipe his face, once his eyes landed on you– fuck it! He does that on purpose. More clear with the stupid grin he had when he noticed you, checking him out. You swear, you hate him the most.

Ah– sorry, that went off topic... so where it was? Oh yeah!

Not long after his practice match did you watch that bitch Yorozu, literally jump out of the bleachers and run into his arms like she is his damn girlfriend. (She isn't). While you quietly, revelled over the fact when Sukuna without a bit of damn respect shoved her away, you couldn't shake out the fangs of malice growing inside you.

That brings you here, leaning back on the headboard of your bed with your phone clasped firmly in your hand, you scrolled through instagram. A rather pathetic attempt at ignoring Sukuna, who tried to strike up a conversation with you but you remained nonchalant.

"How long will you keep up that attitude?" Sukuna questions, leaning on the wall to your shared bedroom, a bored expression laces his features.

You don't answer, you don't even make the effort to look at him. It was perhaps, good time to just break your resolve for you've been giving him the cold shoulder since yesterday. Honestly, you don't even know why he's on the receiving end of your wrath. Sure, you are mad, but you are more mad over that wretched bitch than your boyfriend. But as you share no relation with her, its him who's suffering.

"Jesus Christ," Sukuna murmurs to himself, rolling his eyes as he steps up and sits in front of you.

He calls your name. You don't answer. He calls it again–his tone harsher. Your response is silence.

The next thing you know, your phone is harshly snatched away from your grip.

"What the fuck?!" You curse aloud, fire burning in your irises as you glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

He scoffs, "So now you talk."

You try to reach for your phone but his counter is putting it away with a hand extended out. "Give that back."

"No."

"Yes."

He grips your right wrist in a tight hold, not enough to hurt you, just to keep you in place.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask, the attempt at pulling your hand away proves futile when he tightens his hold.

"For you to stop acting like a brat."

"Acting like a brat?" You could only scowl. "I was silent the whole time. Is breathing illegal for you, now?"

His carmine irises blaze with annoyance as he retorts back, "You know damn well, I am not talking about that."

"I don't." You had always been bad at lying.

"Fuck yeah, you do."

You don't respond to that, trying to reach for your phone which he is doing a damn good job at keeping away. "Sukuna," Warning drips from your lowered tone, "I am not in the mood. Give my phone back, now."

"Yeah?" A humourless chuckle leaves his lips, "You're not getting it tonight, deal with it." You grit your teeth, trying to keep in the bubbling anger which would flow out any second but sure the God's hate you cause Sukuna's next words crumbles every bit of your self-control.

"Besides... why do you need it anyway? What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Texting some bastard while you I am in your no communication zone."

That's it. The fucking audacity.

Cheating. Something you can never speak or joke about, and he knows it still the God damn audacity to spit shit in front of you as if you're the one whose locker would be filled with love notes on valentine's day.

"You fucking asshole," You stand up, pulling your wrist away from his grip. Rage pours tumbles out of the dam, pouring through your every vein, every bone, every pore. "You have the fucking audacity to accuse me of cheating when you're the one smooching of other girls."

There's bad move. Then there's the worst fucking move of all.

This was the latter.

Sukuna rose up instantly, his gift of height gave him the upper hand to easily glare down at you. "The hell did you just say?" His tone turned a note low, the deep raves of his voice enough to warn of the impending danger.

Did that scare you? Maybe. Were you going to back down and say sorry? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

You scoffed, folding your hands over your chest, "Oh, you heard me." It was entertainment. Pure entertainment. Watching him riled up over a simple accusation. Hell, you'd pay to witness it again and again. "Do I have to say it again to your face, cheater?"

If he's so much offended to be labelled as a cheater then he shouldn't have brought up the topic in the first place. It doesn't make sense on what type of logic, you're backing yourself up but if rationality worked in cases of fueling rage and huge egos then there'd be no wars in the first place.

His response could only be grasping you by the throat, firmly as he roughly pushed you back on the wall. "I am the cheater? I've been nothing but loyal to you."

"The last time Yorozu–"

"She was clinging to me and I pushed her off, what more do you want?"

Nothing, I am just fucking jealous. That's what, you should be saying but you don't cause- cause you just can't.  You grit your teeth and resort to profanity, "Fuck you, nonetheless."

"You stupid bitch," His grip around your throat tightens and that's when you're finally aware of your position. With your back pressed against the wall and his calloused hand grazing over the pulse point of your throat–this situation could not be more intimate.

You are hit with his cologne mixed with the musky smell of cigarette which, you assume, he had smoked before coming to you. A heat burns in your core as you notice the intricacies of tattoos that marks his visage; each one luring you to trace your fingertips over them.

You're still antsy and a flurry of provocative insults are resting on the tip of your tongue which would be spit out any second but- but what could be the better time for your estrogen levels to rise?

It's not long after that you mutter a curse under your breath, your fingers find their way to his collar; a second later–you are locking lips with him.

Sukuna's initial shock of the situation is evident as his lips doesn't move against yours. Yet, he indulges soon, his eyes flutter shut when he responds with equal fervour and fire. He tilts your head back, his tongue lapping over your bottom lip and a sigh escapes him when you give him access. His free hand find their way over to your hair, tangling his fingers through your strands as he tugs them back – deepening the kiss.

You groan against his lips at the surprise pull. His tongue prods inside your mouth, engaging in a harmonious dance with yours – swirling and lapping with it. His hold on your throat was tight, cutting off your air supply while his mouth moved against yours in a rhythm. Allowance of breath was gratified once he felt your mouth tighten against his. You gasped and panted for air, his hold on your throat loosening just a bit. When you looked up, a suggestive smirk was plastered against his lips and damn– wasn't that just irksome.

Sukuna pulls you closer, nibbling on your earlobe which incites a rather sinful moan from your mouth. "All that attitude and you wanted this. Should have just said so, princess." It's almost mocking on how he used the nickname.

"Fuck you."

"Gladly."

Said so, his mouth again presses over yours, harder than the previous time. The passionate liplock lights the fire in both of you as Sukuna's hands glide down from your hair. Caressing the curves and contours of your body before finally resting on the plump flesh of your ass. He squeezes your buttocks while trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw and lips.

"Use your words from next time, princess."

Fuck it. Fuck him. He is smirking. You can't see it but damn, isn't it palpable? Your eyes are shut tight as his hand moves from your buttocks to your thighs and upto your thong. "Fucking soaked," He hisses under his breath, feeling the large wet splotch that has settled over your the fabric.

"Ngh– Sukuna," A breathy moan slips past you as he palms you over the garment, tracing the outline of your clit and entrance. His attempt at teasing you is working dangerously well and you have to restrain yourself from giving into this wanton pleasure. You grip onto his biceps, nails digging into the muscles from over his shirt. "Stop fu-fucking teas–ing me."

"Am I teasing you? Mhm nah, I don't think so." His heated breath falls hot over your neck as he licks a line over the curve of it. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"

You don't answer, silently scowling at him but that's his cue to slide your thong aside and caress the skin over your needy pussy. He knows what you want. And he knows only he can give it you. But he won't. Not until you say it. And you won't say it cause you're damn stubborn and you've got to show him that you're still mad which is proving difficult under his skillful ministration.

Well, that isn't a bother to him, you can stay with your resolve all you want while he enjoys playing with you.

"F-Fuck it– Sukuna–," You whine, pushing your hips towards his fingers to just receive an inch of stimulation but that's fruitless. The attempt at clamping your legs shut is the worst play you could make as Sukuna harshly slaps your pussy.

"Keep those legs spread like a good whore."

You hate him. You really do. You hate him for the certain joy of degradation mixed with praise – one, only he can evoke from you. The phrase had a electricity shoot to your cunt causing it to throb as a sheen of sweat formed over your forehead.

The grip over your resolve breaks and you find yourself speaking before you can even think, "Fuck– Sukuna, need you, ngh– now."

"Now, that's like a good little slut." Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice before two of his digits delves inside your aching cunt while the rough pad of his thumb presses over your clit.

You throw your head back at the needed stimulation and courtesy to Sukuna's hand tangled in your hair–shielding your scalp from hitting the wall. The flurry of curses and moans leaving your lips could have been recorded. His fingers move in and out of your cunt in a fast pace while your pussy sucks them in. He hits your g-spot and that has your eyes rolling back in your head. The squelching noises from your pussy and your breathy loud whimpers reverbrates through each and every corner of your room. He draws circles over your clit, scissoring his finger in a V, stretching you out.

"Eyes on me, princess," He murmurs in your ear and you comply soon after. Gazing in his crimson eyes darkened with lust, a shiver runs down your spine as your legs tremble while he fingerfucks you like playing the keys to a piano. "Watch the only man who can make you cum like this."

It's possessive and diabolical. He has no right to act such when you aren't even the one who's going around entertaining the opposite gender. But you don't have any bit of resilence left in you to tell him to fuck off. Besides with the amount of strings he's pulling, its only a second later that you spasm and milk around his digits.

Sukuna pulls out his fingers from your hole, gazing at the slick and fluid running down them with amusement flickering over his irises. Yet, he pushes them to your mouth, pulling down your lower lip. "Clean up your mess, brat."

You keep your eyes on him, taking the same fingers which was in your cunt, in your mouth as you lick them clean.

"Yeah? Like that? It's yours, princess." You hum in response. Your brain is still hung up on the earlier scenario, and even though getting off on his fingers did relieve your frustration. You're still not satisfied. Nay, you aren't letting him off the hook that easily. That's when a rather vile idea conjures up in your brain, a smirk escapes your lips.

"Hm, whatcha smiling about?"

You could only laugh, "Ah– you'll know." It's in a second that it happens – the tables turn. It's now Sukuna with his back resting against the wall while you smirk up at him. Your hand slid down to his sweatpants and damn– his clothed bulge could only compare to the actual thing. You kneel down before him, a mischievous glint shadowing your eyes. "Let me return the favour."

You hook your thumb and pointer finger in his waistband, pulling down his briefs. His cock springs out, smacking against his abdomen and for a second, its like you get a brain freeze. Rock hard, and the veins are protruding out of the shaft. It isn't the first time, you've seen it but each time you do, realization hits of how huge it is.

"Less staring, more sucking, princess." Sukuna says from above, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Oh no, just admiring a work of art," You reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. It isn't a lie but it's sure a push to his ego. You look up at him, holding the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue over his mushroom tip.

"Fuck," He mutters to himself, head tipping back when your warm mouth latches over his hardened shaft. He pushes himself onto your moist mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you almost gag on his cock. You compose yourself soon, looking up at him as you bob your head up and down on his thick, veiny shaft.

Sukuna's grip on your hair doesn't falter, instead tightens as he establishes his hold while tangling his finger through your strands. You assume he likes it (and why wouldn't he? Only you can give him a head like this) from the way noises leaves his mouth as you take him in as much as you can. Your hand glides over the remnants of his dick, stroking and pressing on it.

"God yeah– fuck... j-just like that– ngh."

Your name rolls out of his mouth sinfully causing your cunt to suck on air. Drool runs down your chin to your jaw as you lap your tongue over his shaft – swirling and drawing over the bulging veins. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. He knows, he's close as he heaves in a ragged breath.

Good. You were just waiting for that.

You detach your mouth from his cock with a pop, standing up as you press your lips to his for a brief second. A smirk played at your lips, "Now, wasn't that nice?"

"What the fuck?!" Sukuna growls at you, dumbfounded at the wave of pleasure that would've washed over him if not for you.

"Pay back, darling." You grin, pressing a kiss to cheek which only infuriates him more.

It isn't a second later that you are roughly thrown on your bed as Sukuna hovers over you, pulling your skirt up and ripping out your thong. You don't have the time to complain when he pushes his cock inside your throbbing cunt, hitting right at your g-spot on the very first stroke.

"God, Suku– ah–" A harsh slap is delivered to your ass, you hiss in pain as Sukuna picks up the pace. Pulling out his cock just to the tip before shoving the whole girth in–stretching and filling you up to the brim.

"Sluts don't get to speak," Another smack lands on your ass cheek, harder than the previous. It would sure leave a mark but he could care less. He swipes at your hardened bud, pinching it as you cry out in pain. "Yeah, like that– scream like the dumb bitch you are."

You are panting, trying to breath but his hand is clamped around your throat like a collar–pressing down your wind pipe. "Gnhh– Su-Suku' ahh– too m-much."

"Too bad, you're taking it." His hands find their way under your thighs, pushing them up until your knees are pressed up beside your face. He folds you in a mating press, reaching spots in you which you didn't know existed. "That's the thanks I got for making you cum. Brat's like you need to be punished." Said so, he reaches under your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breasts while he tweaks over your nipples.

You fist the sheets, eyes rolling back, you are almost on the verge of seeing stars before your eyes. His strokes has your legs tremble but he holds you tightly in his grasp, pinching and tugging on your erected buds. You swallow a deep breath feeling yourself clamp around his cock, you're close–too close and his swipes inside your pussy does not make this situation better. "Sh-shit, ahh– g-gonna ngh– cum."

"Oh yeah, so soon?" He pinches your clit elliciting a scream from you. "Like that, don't ya? Nasty little bitch, cum."

You suck him in, feeling yourself come undone under him. But– uh oh...

Sukuna is far from done.

You don't have the time to catch your breath, before he flips your position; you're straddling his lap with his dick still stuck in your cunt. "Wait– what the–"

"We are far from over," He whispers near your ear. "I still haven't cum, slut." He leans back on the bedframe, squeezing your ass cheek with a lopsided smirk stuck on his face. "Go on, take responsibility of your own actions. Or..." He stretches out the word, looking down on you. "Can you not?"

Did he really...? Was that really a challenge thrown your way?

If he thinks your estrogen levels aren't enough to keep up with his testosterone then he's damn wrong. You snickered, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh–he grunts out in pain. Your knees are aside his hips as you push yourself down on his cock. "You should know better than asking me if I can go on."

"Hm, prove it then."

Damn bastard... he's toying with you, provoking you with words and damn! It's working well. Like a moth to a flame, you are playing into his whims and you're damn sure, he's laughing his ass off inside his mind.

"Fuck off," You curse at him, pulling yourself up before sitting back on his member.

"Gosh– shit," Sukuna grabs your hips, groaning at the way your warm walls feel around his dick. Hooking his hand under your top, he tugs on it and you oblige, putting your hands up as the garment is thrown off your body. He doesn't waste a second before delving in to bite and suck on the flesh of your neck while fondling your breasts.

The only sound that reverberated through the room were your wanton moans mixed with his groans as your name was chanted like a mantra. Your butt slapped against his lap as you bounced on him, your mouth parted as a trail of drool ran down your chin.

It's the same dance, you've danced with him countless times. The flicker of flame that burnt could only be fuelled by your combined desires. Each kiss, each bite, each stroke giving rise to the allure of just one more. Once again.

You felt Sukuna's cock twitch inside your sore cunt–burning and ravished from taking him in so long. Your pleasure was coming in soon. And at the last second, Sukuna's mouth met yours in a salacious, deep kiss–resulting you to moan in his mouth as his seeds paint your walls white. You come simultaneously, ragged breath of relief erupting from you.

Both of you part, as you stay still over him, catching your breath. You look into his eyes; he's staring right back. Huffs and pants could be the means of communication and even though your room is air-conditioned, a thin layer of sweat covers the both of you.

For a second, there is a amalgam of emotions that flicker in his gaze alone. They disappear before you can name them yet- you believe there was a hint of tenderness to them.

"I hate you," The words flow out of you yet you don't know, why they don't have the same sharp tone as always.

"I hate you," You repeat again.

A smug smirk plasters over his lips as he clicks his tongue, "Right? Who was riding that dick–"

"Shut up."

Yes, you do hate him the most.

[astrologydayz]

ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES - NATAL CHART6🔞

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN SAGITTARIUS = sexually attracted 2 people from different countries/different religions/or 2 teachers/mentors. They love exploring their fantasies, & are usually not afraid 2 try everything, at least once - "u can never be 100%sure u don't like something, if you never try it" kinda mentality here. They can get turned on by people who's not afraid 2 throw a line at em/not afraid of taking the initiative! They find that sexy as hell, as they typically can be the ones initiating things! Cultured, curious, & smart people def gets them going - turned on by people who's ready2 explore their fantasies, without any inhibitions! They can be a big fan of spontaneous, wild, & free sex - can also get really turned on by hips/thighs usually<33.

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 IN VIRGO = sexually attracted 2/turned on by people younger than them/younger looking people/people who's more inexperienced than them/people they can "teach" sexually/clean looking people/clean in general. These people are usually more than willing 2 put their sexual partners fantasies/sexual desires/urges before their own - they want 2 learn how their partner's body works, & they work hard 2 get that O in, in their books for sure. They can get off simply by getting their partner off a lot of the time. These people can actually be quite freaky/kinky in bed, when they feel safe/secure enough 2 show that part of themselves.

SUN CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A WOMAN'S CHART, & SHE'S INTO MEN = usually really sexually attracted 2 really manly looking men - & she can also be really sexually attracted 2 alpha men, but only the confident, secure, & kind ones - not the cocky, conceited, "my dick is bigger than yours" loser ones. MOON CONJUNCT/TRINE MARS IN A MAN'S CHART can show us a man that loves sex being full of feelings/emotions, passion, teasing, & most important of all - security. If he wants 2 cry during sex, he wants 2 do it without someone maybe laughing right in his face. Or if he has some kind of fantasy/fetish, he isn't quite comfortable with himself yet = he won't risk telling just anybody - he really needs that trust, before opening up 100% sexually. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE URANUS can be really into phone sex/getting off from videos, & pictures2📹📱💻. These people can also get sexually aroused outta nowhere, or they just suddenly feel the need 2get off, NOW. These people can love the most unused sex positions, they can even invent a sex position of their own - they like it more when they're the ones creating. JUPITER CONJUNCT/SQUARE NYMPHE ASTEROID - 875 can show a person wanting to have sex/get sexual/get off A LOT. Like, If they could = they would probably fuck their whole life away😭😂. No but fr, they can be really really fixated on gratification/sex in general.

5TH HOUSE is that passionate, fun, & "casual/dating sex". 8TH HOUSE is that deep intimate soul merging/transformative sex.

LUST ASTEROID - 4386 CONJUNCT NORTH NODE = people whose life purpose is part of exploring their sexual urges/desires, really figuring that out4 themselves, since it's not common for them with the opposition 2 South Node - it's something completely NEW 2 them! They can feel so uncomfortable with baring themselves in the beginning, but once they get going, &get comfortable = new kind of confidence unlocked baby✅. MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/SEXTILE WILD ASTEROID - 1941 can show a person being into some really unseen/wild shit when it comes 2 sex - getting sexual/or they're just wild in bed in general/can be the type 2 not really say no2 anything, unless they're just not that into u/or REALLY just not that into whatever thing they get asked about.

VENUS ASPECTING BLACK MOON LILITH are the ones being sexually attracted 2 people from a different "class"/race/country/religion - or they can feel sexually attracted 2 people they shouldn't really feel a sexual attraction2 sometimes - "taboo shit".

MARS IN 5TH HOUSE can be a big fan of casual sex/friends with benefits arrangements/or be a big fan of having sex with date partners before the date ends/or ofc just a fan of fucking around4fun. MARS IN 8TH HOUSE do not fuck4fun, or for casualty. They need a soul/deep connection with someone 1st. They don't give out their sexual energy freely like that - u have 2 prove you're worthy 1st - whatever they deem that is. Time doesn't matter here - it's about the connection, & the intimacy - so they could easily have sex with someone on the 1st night, but there HAS 2 be some deep unexplainable connection of some kind! - Which rarely happens 4 these natives.

5TH HOUSE RULER IN 7TH HOUSE are usually the dating 2 marry type, & they're also the ones that can wait with having sex until marriage. 5TH HOUSE RULER IN 11TH HOUSE can date/get into "love affairs" with people they're friends with/with friends friends/step siblings friends/with people they collaborate with/meet online/or with people they meet through mutual shared causes! VENUS/JUNO IN 5TH HOUSE can show a person mostly dating around, not really committing 100% a lot - &when they do find somebody2 commit2 = if they break up, they're usually out dating around again pretty fast - "the best way 2 get over someone, is 2 get under someone else". NORTH NODE IN 5TH HOUSE can show that exploring one's sexuality/exploring pleasures/desires while dating/dating around is part of one's life purpose.

WOMEN WITH KLETT ASTEROID - 2199 IN VIRGO can be REALLY picky when it comes 2 who they let hit/get sexual with🙅🏼‍♀️ - That's also why they can be quite inexperienced at times. Masturbation isn't really a thing they care about either, - usually. Very into the health/cleanliness of their vagina.

MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CANCER got that safe, & secure boyfriend dick💋. U know what u get almost every time, AFTER the 1st time - so you're never left disappointed. MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN CAPRICORN Can be very "clumsy" sexually/in the sexual department throughout their teenage years/young adult years - but they're usually sexually "advanced" at around 30-35 years of age💚.

MEN WITH DICK ASTEROID - 17458 IN AQUARIUS = def not a basic boyfriend dick. Something about it can be alien like - not in a bad way, daddy chill😭😂😂. But the length, the thickness, the way it stands when erected/or simply the look of it in general IS DIFFERENT. Not a basic dick, okay. Appreciate it! MEN WITH SATURN CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show them holding forever in bed💀😭😂 - Can also show that they're talented at withholding themselves from cumming!🫰🏼 Also pretty good self esteem when it comes2their dick usually.

MEN WITH SATURN SQUARE/QUINCUNX DICK ASTEROID - 17458 can show performing issues - problems with getting erections/feeling bad about their dick - self esteem issues/or issues with cumming2fast.

THANKS4READING BABE!! APPRECIATE U, ALWAYS!💜

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

[ddejavvu]

Steve stumbling over asking you out, so Robin gives him a push to try and get you to closer, to give Steve that extra shove... Except she pushes her bestie a bit too hard, and Steve ends up face first in your titties. Needless to say asking you out is not going as ‘king Steve’ planned. Although Steve and Robin are equally mortified over what just happened

The last thing you're expecting when you hear a half-hearted call of 'Watch out!' is a man's face in your chest. But that's exactly what you get, and it looks like neither he nor the girl who had warned you had expected it either.

"Holy shit!" The girl - you recognize her from band, Robin, you think? - gasps, and you mentally echo her sentiment while the man stumbles backwards trying to regain his balance. The top you're wearing at tonight's party is especially low-cut, and you'd felt every inch of his skin against your flushed chest. He doesn't end up catching his footing, falling backwards onto his ass on the floor instead.

Once you've got a clear look at his face, you process that it's none other than Steve Harrington. You're surprised he's at this party, you've heard they aren't really his thing anymore. He looks entirely defeated, face beet-red and shoulders tense as he peers warily up at you.

"I'm so sorry," Robin gushes, "I pushed him, and- I mean, I didn't mean for him to hit you, 'specially not nose-to-tits!"

Steve groans at her crude wording, "Shut up, Robin."

"I'm sorry," She repeats in earnest, ignoring her friend's pleas, "Um you're not- are you, like, hurt or anything?"

"Yeah, I speared 'em with my nose," Steve snaps, shoving at her thigh where he's slumped beside her legs on the floor, "Just shut up, Robin!"

"It's fine," You put an end to their squabbling, extending a hand towards Steve to help him off of the ground. You're not quite prepared for how bulky he is; perhaps he's still got his basketball physique, and when he takes it like a lifeline to pull himself up, you tip forward on your shaky legs right into his own chest.

You're trying to pull back before you've even made contact with his- shit, his surprisingly firm chest, but you still manage to face-plant slightly. There's a soft noise from Robin, then his hands come up to grab your shoulders and straighten you out.

"Sorry," You flush, mortified, "Uh- I'm a little drunk. Lost my balance, I guess."

"S'fine," Steve murmurs, looking a little bit like he might be sick, which isn't very reassuring. But his hands are still firmly planted on your shoulders, and you swear he's holding you closer than he needs to be.

"Well, now you're even," Robin concludes, slapping each of you on the back so that you jerk towards each other, if only a few measly inches, "I'm going to the bathroom, so if either of you wanna motorboat each other on purpose this time, you're free to do so."

This time, two voices call out, "Shut up, Robin!"

[heartsandhischier]

definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you moved to New Jersey you felt absolutely lost. Don't take it the wrong way, it was great – a prestigious college, a change of surroundings, and a fresh start. Your journey took an unexpected turn when you accidentally bumped into someone, quite literally bumping into him, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee. That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted to the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly you became best friends, helping each other with everything. You were there to cheer him on in the stands, and cheer him up during his rough rookie year, and he helped you out with your schoolwork, making sure you never felt alone in the stress of college life. You both shared a lot of laughs, late-night chats, and supported each other through thick and thin. And when you struggled to find a new apartment, he offered to let you stay in the guest room without hesitation. When weeks turned into months, you realized that living together clicked for both of you, turning what was meant to be a temporary arrangement into a lasting living situation. 

When Luke was drafted, you were on the edge of the seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils were about to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you leapt up, a surge of joy overwhelming you. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant for Jack – having the chance to play alongside his brother, to improve and grow together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. Jack had told you that if Luke was drafted to the Devils, he would move into the apartment. However, from the friendship you had with Jack, you could only be excited for the fun ahead with two goofy brothers.

But here you were, angrily banging on the shared bathroom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me, I’m gonna be late.” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant and fun. Luke was definitely the annoying brother of the three. Unlike Jack, who was always kind and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence, often making snide, witty comments, as if he wanted to fire you up.

The apartment had become a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension thick enough to cut with a knife. In Jack’s absence, there was no one acting as the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you. Luke was leaving the bathroom messy, his toiletries scattered, leaving dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and taking your clothes out of the dryer leaving them in a pile on the floor so he could use the machine, he even went as far as to have a party the night before your midterm. You couldn’t help but feel like he was doing it on purpose, you knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency – cause you knew what Jack was like. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose, to get under your skin. And what bothered you most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair was damp, a towel wrapped around his lower body, showcasing his muscles. “You don’t have to spend that long in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you remarked sharply, your arms crossed.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke retorted, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“No, like shit,” you fired back without missing a beat.

“Well, you look pretty shit yourself. So you don’t really need to go to the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly pleased with his response. Frustrated, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him to move on with your day.

-

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees as he begged. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after non-stop stress, Jack insisted on you joining them, arguing you deserved a break. But, his team included a certain someone – Luke. The idea of enduring hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered, hoping to entice you with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation for you to join, “Come on, I know you guys rotate who keeps the tab,” you retorted, narrowing your eyes playfully at him, “And you were the one paying last time.”

“Please I’ll clean the bathroom the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Okay next four weeks. And I'll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook broccoli.”

-

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you questioned, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiosity in your voice. Jack couldn’t help but chuckle at your question, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “Suddenly become best friends with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you replied with a snort, “Just needed to know if I had to fight for us to sit in the back.”

The Uber drove into the bustling city of New York, skyscrapers rushing by in a blur. Luke had headed out early with Holtz and Mercer, leaving you to revel in the peaceful drive to the club, free from any of the usual bickering. The car was filled with laughter and lighthearted banter, both you and Jack bubbling with anticipation for the evening ahead.

A chime sounded as the elevator announced your arrival to the club’s level, and as the doors slid open, you were greeted by a stunning panoramic view of New York City. the vibrant lights and endless skyline stretched out before you, leaving you in awe. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack nudged you, his smirk infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically under the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. Jack, with a reassuring grip, took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering for you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates – they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They made you feel like a part of the team. And then there was Luke, he didn't even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in a conversation with Timo to care – yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, drinks were served – Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favorite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack even went as far as to make sure you got your favorite drink. 

After a few more drinks and hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music took over as soon as you started moving, and you found yourself really enjoying the moment. Dancing there with Jack, you felt genuinely happy that you’d agreed to go out. And you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, lost in the rhythm and the music, you realized your glass was empty. Sliding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, navigating the sea of people all moving to the same beat. The bartenders moved with swift precision, a blur of activity as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by the eager club-goers. 

Waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What you getting beautiful?” He was undoubtedly handsome, but the whole ordeal made you somewhat uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer. 

He leaned in, his breath brushed your ear, the words “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” lingering in the air between you. The proposal sent an uncomfortable shiver down your spine, and not the good kind. You were caught off guard, unsure of how to escape the situation, all you managed in response was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden move, he leaned in. You were frozen, unable to move away, you just tightly shut your eyes, bracing for impact. However, the kiss never landed. With your eyes still closed, the sounds of a scuffle broke through the music.

Then he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place.” it sent a shiver down your spine, and not the good kind, you could only offer a sheepish smile. Then in the whiff of a moment he leaned in trying to give you a kiss. You were frozen, you couldn’t move away and just closed your eyes, bracing for impact. But the kiss never came, eyes still closed, you heard commotion. 

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger. He had pushed him, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering a sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving him a small nod. What the fuck just happened.

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’, please.” The bartender acknowledged with a nod and swiftly got to work on the drinks. 

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a surprising gentleness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, wrapped around you, quickly making you forget all about the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, you had never been this close to him before, ever. However, you found it somewhat comforting. He seemed to sense this shift too, his hand gently placed at your hips, his voice teasing, “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.”

The comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding to your cheeks. You were quick to retort, attempting to mask your fluster, “Blame that on the club being crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I’d have moved out by now.”

You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence now, and it seemed he noticed. “Considering how much you complain about me hogging the bathroom, you seem pretty okay standing this close to me.” it caught you off guard and you felt a warmth rush to your cheeks. You quickly shook it off, “Blame that the club is crowded. If our apartment was this packed, I'd have moved out by now.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer than before, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realized how much you actually enjoy my company. All these complaints might just be your way of asking for more attention.”

Caught in the unexpected closeness, you tried to maintain your composure. “Dream on, Luke. If I wanted more of your attention, I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like that.” that damn smirk, you wish you could just wipe it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse, before navigating through the lively crowd, towards Jack at the table. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you gently. 

“Fine,” you responded, rolling your eyes at the boy. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them order my favorite drink,” you laughed, giving in to his bright smile.

Jack joined in the laughter, but something in his response made it seem he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head looking at you, genuinely puzzled. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favorite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

-

The next few weeks, you tried your hardest to avoid Luke. The whole situation in the club… it was confusing, it was so unexpected but for some reason you didn’t mind the closeness that happened that night. But you couldn't face him. You even got up hours earlier than necessary to avoid the usual bathroom argument, waiting a few extra hours before class or work. It was tearing your sleep schedule apart, but it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone – 3AM. You let out a frustrated sigh, you couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your space in an unbearable warmth. Stress of upcoming exams layed heavy on your subconscious. And the thought of having to get up in two hours just to avoid Luke, didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed, you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hanging loosely around you. Whatever. At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyways, and the boys probably have early morning practice.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimize the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. The gentle illumination from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room – Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned to your dismay when you spotted the very person you’d tried so hard to avoid for weeks on end – Luke. His back was turned, curls messy, and a pair of pajama pants loosely hanging around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders, all on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate response – you knew you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, your slippers betraying you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?” 

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands – his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realize I had company,” you managed to say, trying to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” I mean he wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to maintain a distance, you did live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then.” navigating the awkward silence towering the room, you reached for a glass, making your way to the sink – coincidentally right beside where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence was towering over you as you filled the glass with water. 

“You know, for two people who claim to dislike each other, we do end up in the same place a lot.” Luke observed with a smirk that you felt rather than saw.

You scoffed, attempting to maintain a facade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don't blame me,” he countered.

You huffed, caught off guard. “This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly, “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next to me.”

You let out a scoff, annoyed, “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, reducing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Your heart was racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

-

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment, was tonight transformed into a space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible – a surprise party. You pulled out all the stops, inviting friends, his teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigate the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. There he was, nestled in a corner of the room, deeply engrossed in conversation. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonized so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed. 

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entirely absorbed in dialogue with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hit it off huh,?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you found yourself responding, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the observation felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you felt. He slapped your shoulder genially, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a noncommittal shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming inside. “No idea.”

-

“This is nice isn’t it,” Jack's voice cut through the comfortable hum of the city. The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complemented the heat perfectly.

The sun was shining, it was warm outside accompanied with a gentle comfortable breeze. It was a great day in Jersey city. 

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that you had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together,” he joked playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words – he genuinely missed these moments together. 

And he was right; it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke eventually affected Jack as well, as the two of them shared basically the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, that you were avoiding luke and then possibly having to explain why. 

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I've been drowning in school work lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful weather, you suggested heading to one of your favorite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with two coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveaway – you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” The two ‘curlyheads’ turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you settled into the chair next to Jack, putting up your best efforts to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly, but you, you remained quiet. Occasionally offering a nod and a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, effectively avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring Luke, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually, John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to the facade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, Jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?” 

Suddenly, the cafe’s cozy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the spotlight.

“Wha-what do you mean,” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I wasn’t being weird.” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling from his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice, as a chuckle broke free. “You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?” 

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. I mean it's better than to tell him about Luke, right? In the end Jack is still his older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your closest friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even worse.

-

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates. The night a farewell toast before everyone dispersed for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone enjoying each other's company before leaving. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and John, navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves. 

Finding yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. You managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled down beside him. “Hey Y/N having fun?” he asked, his smile was radiating, infectious. 

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!” 

An awkward silence fell upon you, filled by only the sounds of your silent sipping your respective drinks. John’s laughter cut through the silence, laughing at the obvious awkward situation, breaking the ice with ease. “Y’know Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting, about us.” you groaned, mentally facepalming yourself. 

With a playful gesture, he pointed a finger between the two of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I forgot?”

“No no no.” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around desperate to clear up the situation. John is, of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it may have happened under other circumstances. You both burst out in laughter at the situation, dissolving any lingering awkwardness.

John dramatically placed a hand over his heart in relief. “Phew, good. Don’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly until his words fully registered – you never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered a pat on your shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next until the vibrant energy of the bar felt like a distant hum. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passenger side of a car, the light of New Jersey streaking past in a dizzying display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state you looked over to the driver's seat – Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred. 

“I was sober tonight Y/N. And you… you were way too drunk, we’re going home,” Luke responded. His tone lacked its usual lightness, replaced by a firm blunt response. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tension hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cozying up with John,” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, similar to the unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday. 

Words failed you as you tried to respons, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-words coming out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could almost feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was – that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part was inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, his hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh. 

“I’ll admit, I got a bit jealous. But i know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite – you were trying to avoid him. And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke. 

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you.” The car came to a stop, you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, you didn’t know what to say. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused, right?

 “Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve, he knew. He knew, that you’d been in fact avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away from his. Luke didn’t look away either, it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering – melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you. 

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke. 

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself. 

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease. 

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him. 

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch. 

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit. 

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

[iznsfw]

Hey Iz! Just would like to say that I love how you show Eunbi as softie in your fics which makes me go back to them every now and then. Hope you could do more of Subby Eunbi.

Maybe Wife Eunbi in the future perhaps?

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IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

11,834 words

Categories | wife!Eunbi, fluff, fluffy-to-rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, (is it really IZ who's writing Eunbi if there isn't) daddy kink, praise/degradation kink, choking, squirting, BREEDING

Here you go, thank you so much for the feedback + kind words. Fulfilled this request not only because it was sitting in my inbox even before I announced commissions, but also because it's her 28th. Still a baby 😭

Oh, and also because I feel like shit after reading "Birthday Blues." It makes me cringe and I feel like I could write her better than that.

Happy birthday to the best tokki! To celebrate, take a shot everytime Eunbi says "daddy."

You want to be anywhere but here. 

When will it all even end? It's nighttime but the evening doesn't even try to compensate for the heat in the morning. Where’s the departure of warmth? Where’s the cool breeze that could dull your aching bones? You're starting to believe that the world’s doing this on purpose.

If it explains anything, since your hatred for the sun is so solid: your job requires more than a degree and a calculating mind, so you're out in the fire of the large star for more than a few hours at a time with sweat pouring down on you more than the light is. You still have sunburns from the first time you underestimated it and went out without lotion. Oh, and from the time you overestimated it and still ended up with dark spotting your skin anyway.

It’s no different than what other employed people your age go through, but it remains… tiring. You get up before dawn even has a chance to call itself one and come home when the night’s on the brink of turning into day. The workload always renders you weak, when it's all physical rather than something you can get over with a keyboard, but you force a smile on your face. It'll all be worth it when you come home.

Click your phone on solely to see your wallpaper. It's her, of course, with your daughter in her arms. Yep, they're the ones you call the loves of your life. You simply can't wait to come home.

Well, coming home is a hell of its own, but it's the trip that makes it so. Often, there's the usual road rage from student drivers too inexperienced to be granted the right to let it out, and of course, traffic. 

That also renders you weak, if that’s anything that matters.

That's your current situation: stuck in a public bus in a concrete jungle ridden by vehicles. All the seats are filled with passengers of varying ages but the same exhaustion. That's the reason for your legs threatening to give up, and you wouldn't blame them. You barely had time to sit down for a break the whole day. Oftentimes, it results in your feet starting to quiver of their own accord, even when you lie down, as if still processing the strain it bore the whole day.

"Need a seat?" asks a man who's around the same age as you, but looks completely different. You wear a shirt stained with coffee and sweat; he’s dressed in a suit and pants. "Your legs are shaking."

At least, unlike the other men from offices you've met, he could read the room.

"Thanks," you say, smiling. You can't even muster politeness to refuse the offer when yes, your legs are shaking. Can't say "no, they just do that" or "ah, it's a talent." 

"No problem, man." He returns the smile. He gestures a brow to your phone, which you didn't even notice was still on. "Not to pry or anything, but—"

You know who he's referring to. Chuckle and nod. "Yep, my wife."

My wife. The words echo in your mouth long after leaving. Just two words bring so much happiness crashing into your heart.

"Could have figured." He leans against the pole. "You smiled like hell when you looked at her."

Did you? Most likely. Glancing at her still gives you butterflies in the stomach. Whether from afar, on a screen, or in person, the girl always has you in a chokehold. (Not that she could choke anyone with a heart and height like hers, but it counts metaphorically, for you're down bad. Down crazy for her.)

"Well, she makes my day.” Pause. “I love her."

"She must be a good wife, huh?"

Look down at her and now you're acutely aware of the big smile on your face. "The best,” you affirm. “Just the best.”

-

It takes hours for you to get through the traffic, and by the grace of god above, you're only going to bear the last of it now. Can't fall asleep—you're nearly there. Your subdivision is coming up to view. Nice place, really, rather nice for a first home, and—

There. You get off the bus and thank the man. You had a nice talk with him, and you hope to have more. He pats you on the shoulder and bids you goodbye.

Then, you thank the driver. He doesn't bother to say that you're welcome or anything. Can't be mad at that. You've all had a rough day.

The arc of your subdivision welcomes you to the aisles of houses lined up. You're home, but not quite. It takes walking to and opening the door of the house you've worked for and being engulfed in the arms of the woman you love to be truly home. It's cliché, you know, but it isn't anything far from the truth. 

Open the door to the world where you belong.

"I'm home," you say, because you are. This is home. You have coworkers and friends you love to hang out with, but nothing beats the comfort of being with your family. 

Gently close the entry to the doorway so as not to alarm your daughter and wife with the jingle of the mobile. Or worse, disturb their sleep. You don't expect them to be awake; it's barely two hours to midnight.

But still, there she is.

Kwon Eunbi, the woman you gave your last name and your love to. The ends of her long dark hair brush over the sweater she shares with you, or rather, has stolen with how many nights it hasn't been used by you. Her pretty little face shows exhaustion, but also a smile. Of course, it's that adorable grin you'll never get enough of.

Her steps pick up a faster speed as she rushes to you with light feet. Open your arms, and she fills them, fills them with her small body and fills the air with soft whines of complaint. They're complaints that say: where were you? Why were you gone so long? Please be here forever. Baby? Please. 

She really needed this hug from you, especially the lift. She needs someone to raise her up when she feels small. So, you sweep her off her feet.  Automatically, her legs join behind your waist. Heavy lifting at work has paid off—your arms barely struggle when you carry her, or maybe it's just Eunbi being as light as a feather as usual. 

Your heart aches at the hours she must have spent getting none of the help she needs from you. You nuzzle your nose to hers—if her whines speak of complaints, this act of yours tells her of your apologies.

"Hi there," you mumble through ruffles of her hair. She's still your baby girl after all this time.

"Hi," she says softly.

Press your lips to the crown of her head and pull her in tighter. "What are you doing up so late?" 

"Putting your kid to sleep," she replies. Eunbi juts both of her lips out. "She's such a brat these days."

"Got it from her mother," you reply testily, letting go and setting her on the ground to raise her chin anyway.

"Don't be mean. I had a terrible day. I missed you so bad."

You feel bad now for teasing her. While you have your share of trials, it's Eunbi who spends most of her time attending to your daughter. It's Eunbi who goes day after day helping you out with chores and paperwork with little complaint. You really should choose the right time and place for your banter.

"I'm sorry, pretty. How can I make it up to you?"

"Let's watch a movie," she says hopefully. Her thumbs create gentle patterns on the sides of your head. 

"A movie?"

"Yes. Just you and me."

-

That's how you end up on the sofa, with Netflix on and Eunbi with her head on your shoulder. Her thigh rests on yours, and if it weren't for her hair being the main focus of your fingers, you'd be caressing it. 

"You want some water? A snack?" She snuggles up to you, as if you were her favorite pillow. It's as on the nose as it gets; Eunbi loves being close to you, having your body on top of hers and just feeling your touch.

You shuffle through movie choices with the remote. The posters come up to view one by one with each click. What should you watch tonight? Nothing else than the usual, but you still have to check.

That one. You give her a question with a look though you know she'll nod. It's her favorite, too.

"You don't have to do that for me," you tell her. She really doesn't. You're satisfied having her in the crook of your arm, with one of her beautiful legs thrown over your thigh. "Just enjoy the movie. You worked hard today."

"But so did you."

"It's fine, Eunbi, I promise." 

Cup her jaw and squeeze those soft cheeks together. Her lips look particularly beautiful today. They're pouty, speaking wordlessly about something that's kind of like love. Love and other things. Love and things like virtues that you two aren't really required to follow when morality is common sense. Mostly. But Eunbi's a good person. A good wife. A good girl.

Lean in to kiss that flawless mouth. "Thank you for working hard."

"And thank you for coming home," she whispers quietly. Her gaze is soft. You could see your smile reflect in them.

It takes a strange soul, a soul that’s more than the right amount of grateful, to thank someone for being there. She says it everyday, a constant reminder of how loved you are. It’s weird to others to hear Eunbi say that while she sticks to your arm, but she’s your little oddity. She has been since the day you met her.

The film goes on and so does the familiar dialogue. You let out the occasional laugh—it’s still good with every watch. The characters say the same stuff, go through the same stuff, run through the same stuff yet you're on the edge of your seat. That's the thrill of rewatching favorite movies.

"You remember this one, babe?" Her pretty head angles, making her look more endearing. "I'll be so mad if you don't."

Her lips. Can't take your eyes off them. Brush your fingers on them, feeling their softness, and she giggles. "I do," you say truthfully, tipping her chin up, "but tell me anyway."

"Hmph. You just want me to tell you 'cause you forgot, right?"

"Please." Smile at her. "Pretty, why would I ever forget that night?"

She grins. It's maddening the way the ends of her lips tilt upwards to make her eyes small. All those flashy whites on display, she explains it to you.

"This was the movie we watched on our first date." She kisses your thumb that plays on her lip. Her eyes shine with the narration. "The Notebook."

That seems like so long ago, but it feels like just yesterday when you were nervously shuffling on your then sofa, with the most beautiful woman in the world right next to you. She was and still is so charming, those brows full and mouth always in a state of joy.

Rachel McAdams was your first crush, but Eunbi owns your heart. She has her position locked into the core of your chest for eternity. 

"Y-you asked me what my favorite movie was," Eunbi says softly, stroking the back of your hand, "and you bought me chocolate and popcorn so we could watch it together."

Yep. You were broke back in those days, but you were also very young—that only meant you fell easily for girls with a pretty smile and a soft heart. You hadn't tripped anymore since then. When you fell for her, Eunbi stood you back up and gave you that sweet little smile again, then told you there was no more falling from here on out.

That was why you made ends meet and bought the chocolate you always saw her eat before she took tests. You even talked a cinema worker into letting you get two large buckets of cheese-flavored popcorn for a crashed price, just the way she liked it.

If there was a will, as they said, there was a way.

Things changed since then. You now had the money to go by and support your wife and Yujin, but your heart kept its strings hooked on Eunbi. She had knotted them to her little finger and never left you once.

Remembering these makes you chuckle. "I was a loser, wasn't I?" It's no meaningless self-deprecation—your college student self was down bad for her in ways you can't begin to describe. "I acted so stupid in front of you all the time."

"But I haven't had a guy that willing to be mine."

"Damn. I really am the best, huh?" You stroke her hair. Direct her face to the television screen but she looks back up at you anyway, and when she does you notice her eyes are full with love.

"You are,” Eunbi whispers. She wraps her arms around your waist. "You are."

Your heart beats positively with feelings of wholesomeness for the girl you're so lucky to have. She's amazing, and you feel so fortunate to have someone who loves you the same way you love her.

"Did I mention you were so cute?" you say with a laugh. "You cried while watching it even though it was like the millionth time, and that's—"

"—how we first kissed," Eunbi finishes. She covers her face, humiliated by how she acted in those youthful memories that come back. "You kissed me because I couldn't stop sobbing."

"Even back then you were a crybaby, huh?"

She sulks. "You know me. I'm very emotional. I was so upset and then more upset that when you kissed me I was all puffy and sniffly and—"

"Shhh." You pull her closer and kiss her head. "It was the best kiss I've ever had."

Eunbi looks down with a smile. Content with that, nods understandingly. You resume toying with her locks of ebony while the movie goes on.

You're watching an old favorite, yes, the one that got you and Eunbi linked by hand and eventually ring. It's special to you, a foundation of some sorts. But by the unfocused serenity in her eyes, you can easily figure that Eunbi didn't ask to watch it just for the sake of it. She wants more than alone time.

She wants you.

Halfway through the movie, the look in her eyes is still there. Hence, stringing her hair in between your digits, you ask, softly, "You didn't really want to watch something, did you?"

Eunbi's cheeks flush. Looking down shyly, she shakes her head. "No," she says in a small voice. "I mean, I did! But it was supposed to be like buildup so it can lead to the actual… you know, but…"

You smile. God, she's adorable. You love it when she gets so small. It's an everyday look on her, but it remains as sweet as the first time you had the privilege to witness it.

You lift her up seamlessly and place her on your lap. Notice that the shorts she's wearing live up to their name with how they taper just barely at the beginnings of her soft thighs. They hide beneath the sweater that's twice her size, making her look cuter than she already is.

"Oh, Eunbi." Your hands hug her waist. It doesn't take much to figure out what she really wants. There's only one thing those watery eyes could possibly desire. "You could have just told me."

Eunbi realizes this and starts to whine again. "I'm sorry. I—"

"No, no." Your finger on her lips, you hush her before she could blame herself. "Don't be, understand? Just tell me what you want."

You want to hear her say it, to hear her tell you just how much she needs you. She looks at you nervously, and you rub down her thigh to encourage her. It's what the two of you are made for: to push and pull, go forward and take a step back. 

Eunbi stares at an odd spot on your shirt then sighs. "But you're so tired," she says wistfully.

"Listen: I never am for you. What is it?"

Silence full of hesitation and fear. 

Then, a revelation.

"I want you to fuck me, daddy."

She could have said that nickname alone and you would've known what she meant.

Eunbi's stomach presses against you. Each knee of hers is beside one of your respective hips. She's swallowing, clearly nervous, but continues closing herself to you. She finds comfort in the warmth of your body, and your encouraging timed squeezes on her waist.

Her breathing grows sporadic with every grope. She tenses up, too, and it's no use massaging her to help her loosen up when you swear to god she gets tighter each time.

"Daddy…" she moans, lip trapped under her teeth.

"Pretty?" You kiss the collarbone that peeks from the curved neckline of the sweater. "What is it?"

"Please, hold me. Take me to bed."

"Of course I will."

She whimpers when you take her into your arms and carry her again. Her little arms curl around your neck as you take her to your bedroom with the assurance that your daughter is asleep. Wouldn't want her to see how she was made.

You lay Eunbi on the bed. Kiss her. You're hung up on every aspect of her—her neck, her jaw, her collarbone. All those places deserve kissing since she's so perfect. Such a good girl, in every little way. 

But it's those lips that deserve yours. Her pink tiers are full and plump, and you dive into them gladly. Softness upon softness, you push her deeper into the soft resting place with how your lips ache to be engulfed with her. 

Eunbi closes her eyes. She's floating in the clouds. Your straying touch is too good, and your lips are more so. They know where to kiss so that she's giggling and squirming, know how to kiss so that her breath is gone. She's shuddering beneath you, and you have got to hold her steady as her soft whines fill your ears.

"You're so good, daddy," she gasps. "Oh, ohhh. So so good."

"You're better." 

Kissing Eunbi is always an ethereal experience. She's so eager and needy—she floats her back so her lips could clash deeper into hers and locks them so that they don't have anywhere else to go. Her hands are on the sides of your head, also locking it in place. You're going to be here forever, touching and feeling her.

You're okay with that.

"Not really," she says, shaking her head. She can't speak too well with your teeth nudging the skin of her neck. "Ah, I'm always so talkative and stuff and you have to listen. And you do, a-all the time."

"No no,” you tell her reassuringly. “I love hearing your voice, pretty. Mmm. Of course I would."

You're about to reach between her legs when you hear a soft bell sound come from your phone. Yujin's doctor? Your family? You don't know, but with the bell notification sound you reserved for messages from important people, it must be urgent. 

"Hold on." Stop and get up regretfully. Wipe your forehead of the sweat that accumulated from the heat of the moment. "I have to answer this."

"Awh." Eunbi isn't afraid to speak out her concern, even in a pouty little whine. 

"It'll be just a minute, I promise."

Ruffle her hair while checking your phone. Squint your eyes when you see that the notification is a text message from… Eunbi?

Open it. Then, your voice gets stuck halfway in your throat.

It's a video she sent. Just the thumbnail tells you this isn't just any video. The automatic run of the clip only proves that.

There, on your screen, Eunbi dances in your bathroom, a flimsy see-through cardigan stuck in a wet sheen on her body. The Burberry bikini stands out as it holds her heavy breasts. She's running her fingers down on her figure, eyes never disconnecting from the camera, as the spraying water runs down her legs.

The audio is a familiar sound to Eunbi. Deja vu connects two and two together, and soon her hands are on her face. Your smile extends to your ears.

"What's this, pretty?" You wrap an arm around her and guide her closer. Make her watch her sultry video. "Wanted to make daddy need you?"

"No… no, I'm sorry," she says meekly. Her eyes are all round and bright as they look up at you from behind curled fists. "I wanted to give you a gift, but then I thought it didn't go through since the internet got cut and—"

"You really thought to distract me at work? What if my coworkers see you on my phone putting on a show for me?"

"Daddy, I'm sorry." 

Your next command is blunt, almost intimidating: "On my lap. Bent over. Now."

It's supposed to be a punishment, but Eunbi's face lights up. She nods and does as she's told: she folds that amazing body on your thighs like it always does at your beck and call. Lift the ends of the sweatshirt so that her lower body is revealed to you. Her pretty backside is subjected to firm squeezes.

"Wanted this for so long, right, Eunbi?" 

You know her. You know she's been sexually frustrated all these weeks. You have been, too, but all these change today. You're actually going to work something out. 

The calm before the storm: your meaningful gropes on her supple ass cheeks. Fuck, no panties. Eunbi's just been waiting for it to happen all day, the naughty girl. She's looking back at you in anticipation as if this were something other than a punishment. 

"You waited, didn’t you? You wanted daddy to bend you over his lap and hit this perfect ass. I know you do." Your touch makes its rounds on her. "You're so fucking wet, too."

She nods. God, yes. She's been wanting this for so long. Working and caring for your daughter has held her up and left her deprived of your touch. You send shivers on her skin that's grown sensitive after weeks of no stimulation.

Then, it happens.

You raise your hand as high as it could reach, then throw it at the swells of her ass. Her cheeks bounce, a mesmerizing sight.

"Mmm, daddy," your wife purrs. Her backside blooms with red at your smacks. "That… that feels so good. Really good."

"You're a freak," you chuckle. Don't stop, though. Spank her again as hard as you could; she tosses her head back.

"Of course. O-oh my god." Her eyes float shut. "Fuck, yes, daddy. I'm so wet, I need you so bad."

"Do you now?"

"Yes. I want it, please."

"We’ll see. You wanna say you're sorry?"

"Sorry," Eunbi whispers, muffling her face into the mattress. Maybe she is. "Hnn. Sorry. Sorry."

"I bet you are. Count."

As time goes by, your blows on her ass grow harsher and she barely gets the numbers out of her mouth. You have a feeling she'll lose count along the way. She does. Of course. You've been with her long enough to know how she works, how she unravels.

For example: this spank guarantees sticky wetness on your fingertips. 

It does.

Second: if you grope her tits right here, right where they rest above your thighs, she'll moan louder.

She does.

Third: if you tease your finger on her pussy, slightly rubbing her clit, she'll scream.

She—

"Daddy!" Eunbi sobs, rutting on your lap. "Fuck, fuck, why does it have to hurt so good? Daddy—"

"I said count, pretty," you reprimand her. As much as you love to hear how desperate she gets for you, the rules are clear. 

"God, please…"

"I know I fuck your brains out until you can't think, but I promise you I'm not the almighty."

"So mean. So full of yourself. H-hnn—!" Eunbi retracts her ass from your hand once you deliver what would have been the final scolding slap if she weren't acting up. "Daddy, please don't stop."

She should be hating the idea of this when it's supposed to be a punishment. She should be quivering under your hand, promising to be a good girl, your good girl. Instead, she's sobbing, begging for more like the pain it brings is essential for her to breathe. Like if you don't slap and smack her rippling ass, she'd go weak.

She's weak with or without. Real tears leak from her eyes and her whines have reached the maximum point of need. You can feel her wetness on your lap. 

"Count," you sneer. "From the top. I'll only ask again."

"Sorry. Hah. One."

"Bet you love this, don't you?" Slap her butt so it bounces in response. "Your cheeks are all sore and red for daddy now. But you want more. Why do you think you want more?"

She grows delightfully wetter. Your fingers stick with her juices.

"Oh," she whines, shutting her eyes. "Two."

"I think I know why. You're weak for anything daddy does to you. I could fuck you on the desk, fuck you in the waiting room at Yujin's school, and you'd be such a good girl. You'd be bending over letting me do it. Am I right, Eunbi? I think I am."

A waterfall starts from between Eunbi's legs at your words. She wants you to use her, to know that everything you said is right. She is a sucker for every little thing you want to do to her. 

She has to take a breather before saying, "Three."

"I think I know something else, too: you just want to be daddy's pretty little girl. It's all you ever want that you'd let me kiss and fuck you dusk to dawn. You'd even let me smack your ass all day and make you weak at the knees. It would be a shame if you came just from this spanking. But I know you will."

She clenches yet she can't fight off your harsh blows and firm squeezes. She can't count that many! Her poor butt is red and aching. Stopping is not an option though, not when she's looking at you with watery bunny eyes full of want and denial.

"Aww, princess, gonna cum? You look so close. You're shaking so much. Are you gonna cry? Cry because you want to cum so bad? Then do it, Eunbi. Cum all over me."

She shakes her head. "W-won't, cum…" She purses her lips and squeals, trying to fight off what's already in store for her. "Won't… cum, da– daddy!"

It's the way she screams your name for help even if you're the one hitting her; the way she wails in your lap and remains there in spite of the spanks that follow each other at the heel; the way she screams out for you and a god that would have disapproved of what you two were doing. Eunbi kicks and struggles and spasms, actions ridden with tears. It's what drives your slaps to unfurl with a fury that you'd never dare do unto her if this setting were any different.

"Daddy, daddy! Ohh shit, please—"

Stuff your fingers into her small mouth and smack her rapidly. She screams and cries, clinging onto the last bits of sanity. You're too harsh with her. Shouldn't daddies be taking care of their baby girls? So why are you so mean?

And why is she loving it? 

"Oh no." Palm her ass. Gently squeeze its round globes then kiss her neck. "My poor, pretty little thing. Who did this to you? Who made you so wet and needy?"

It's the mixture of mockingness and concern that has Eunbi trembling on your lap. You could be so kind yet so cruel to her. Seeking solace in the gentle circles your hand makes, she whimpers out, "You, daddy."

"That's right." Nudge your erection to her mound. "And who's making me this hard?"

"Me." As she says it, her ears turn pink. You've praised her so many times and still her face grows warm with self-consciousness.

"Of course. You're too fucking pretty. Want to sit on daddy's lap?"

"Yessss, please." 

Eunbi wipes the tears from her eyes. Her legs are liquid, and you're required to help balance her when she stands up to sit down anyway on your legs anyway. 

She curls her legs into your lap and raises her fingers to her lips. You're rubbing her arm and telling her you're here, yet another truth. You'll always be here for her, even when you get rough with her. Don't mistake it all for merely lust.

This is what home feels like. 

Rock her for a while. Let her breathe. Carefully brush away a stray tear and kiss the place it used to reside. 

"I love you," you tell her. "I love you to death."

"I love you, too, daddy," she whispers. "My daddy."

She's trembling. You furl her into your arms more tightly and press your mouth to her hair. She pushes herself deeper into your touch appreciatively. 

With her hands returned on her lap like the good girl you made her and eyes tearful, she looks so cute. She looks like the girl who's exactly the type to get on your thigh and let you do whatever you want to her, and it couldn't be more accurate. She's perfect.

"Pretty girl, pretty girl. Eyes up here."

Eunbi's sniffling quietly, and you run your hand up and down her back to calm her sobs.  She redirects her focus. She's obedient now, following all the rules. 

You ask, gently, "Need to breathe?" 

"I'm okay, daddy," she says. She leans against your chest. "Thank you."

You nod. That's your go signal. Your green light.

So, your touch traces from her shoulders to under that big sweatshirt. Right there between those fantastic legs. The spanking left her weak and wet. Just a few rubs make you hear the slick sounds.

You feel her then, right there on her drenched core. She tenses up again. Her legs close yet you part them to gently, gently tease her nub. It only goes up and down like that but she's already quivering again.

That draws a gasp out of her. She looks at you, swallows, then closes her eyes tightly as you continue. Only soft whimpers squeeze past her lips. She's taking it all with such resilience that you're actually amazed. 

"That's it. So pretty and good for me. Maybe I should reward that, don't you think?"

Eyes still closed, she nods. Excellent. Test her limits with poking a single finger into her waiting pussy. 

That's how her eyes end up fluttering open. You finger her fast and hard, making the poor girl have to go through another bout of harshness. She's enjoying it in spite of it all; her pretty pussy just clenches perfectly around you, ever so wet. 

"Daddy." She says this with urgent breaths. "Daddy? Need you." Then her voice gets higher. "Daddy, please—p-please—"

"I'm here, hon," you say, reassuring her as you toy with her cunt. Her legs shake, but you carry on. "What does Eunbi want me to do?"

You're blocking her thoughts from forming. She lifts herself up and grinds blindly, but she knows she has to answer. She knows she has to tell you something, because that's what good girls do, right? And Eunbi's exactly that: your good girl. Your good, sweet little girl.

Oh, but she can't, she can't. She can't answer it when your fingers are all the way inside her, constantly shoving and pulling strings of moistness out of her. She turns to you and opens her mouth, but she never gets to say anything. 

It continues like this for lengthened moments, with Eunbi barely holding on and squirming on top of you, and your fingers neatly sheathing and unsheathing from her pussy. Her vulnerable expressions show that she can't talk or act properly—all she can do is moan and squeal and beg. 

It isn't a fair game. Recognizing this, you kiss the side of her head and propose, "Let's make this easier, pretty." 

And you make it anything but. You spread her legs and press her back snug to your arm. From there, you keep fingering her. Aim to ruin all the resistance in her pussy. Impossible; she's too damned tight. 

"Where would you like me to touch you?" you ask. "Your tits?"

Reach up under her clothes to feel her up. Squeeze her breasts. She squeezes up once more and sobs a little. The breaths leave her nostrils sharply when you start to grope her. 

"Mmm." Eunbi nods, but still looks unsure.

"Your thighs?"

Rub them down. They're always so meaty and soft. She purses her lips and nods at that, too.

"Or your ass?" you ask with a wicked grin.

Take one finger out of her and instead lead it to her asshole. Tap it teasingly. She scurries her butt into your hands.

"It could be anywhere, Eunbi. Just tell me."

Eunbi nods. But she needs to enjoy this for now. She lets you fuck her with your digits before settling for a decision. 

She touches your mouth with a quivering finger. "I need your mouth on my pussy, daddy," she says. "Please? I'll be careful not to hurt you, I promise."

You stop fingerfucking her. Place her gently beside you. Then, you move upwards before staying right below the headboard of your bed. Your back is flat on the mattress.

"No need to be careful," you tell her. She could break your neck and you wouldn't care. "Just come here and sit on my face."

Your blunt words make her blush. But she crawls up and spreads her legs. You're there to appreciate her beautiful legs and her shaven, pink little pussy. She looks down at you with concern, but you tap her thigh reassuringly. 

Convinced, Eunbi places herself gingerly on your mouth. The first contact is effective in breaking her again for she lets out a vulnerable little moan and raises her hips again, only to sit back down on you.

As expected, Eunbi tastes like everything sweet, everything beautiful. You slide your tongue up and down between her pussy lips, then flick it on her clit. She cries out, her hands instinctively going for your hair. But she remembers her promise to be careful. She's forced to have to bite on the back of her hand.

You make it more difficult for her. You love keeping her on her toes. Rest your hands on her thighs—her thick, full thighs—and pull her down. You don't care if she'll suffocate you; you'd give anything to have her reeling and crying. Her legs squeezing your head is your reward for eating her out so well.

"Daddy," she hiccups. She seals herself on your head and freezes due to the pleasure. "Feels so good, keep doing that, please."

How could you deny her of anything? She tastes so sweet and whines so prettily that you have no other path to go down than the way to eating her pussy harder. 

Kiss her labia lovingly, a teaser for the main thing, which is slipping your tongue all the way into her tight hole and circling it inside her. Waste no time in licking up and down, appreciating her folds. 

Her body barely weighs down on you. She remains afraid of hurting you, and you have to grip her hips to keep her down. Soon, it becomes a game of lifting and chasing, as if her cunt were a distant dream you only wish to attain.

You're determined though. Too determined for a dreamer. Your hands caress her fit ass to ease the pain your spanks induced and you reach deep inside her to trigger more juices into your mouth.

"Please, please, please—" Eunbi's voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands. She doesn't even know what she's begging for now. All her thoughts have vanished. You're dumbing her down into a shaky, squirting mess who needs only her daddy's mouth.

She's carefully grinding down on you, keeping herself slightly aloft so as not to crush you. But you insist on the opposite; you tug her down and seize her clit between your lips. Start to suck, hard.

She's not so careful anymore. 

"Daddy!" Her pussy crashes down on your face and begs for more of you, begging you to draw her needs beneath and fulfill it. 

Of course, you give in. You torture her clit with sucks that transcend control, keeping it latched tight between your lips, and grab your wife's hips to scurry her downwards. She can't go anywhere now.

"Oh—oh no, daddy," she gasps, her fingers curling around the headboard like ribbons, "don't do that! Don't do that, I'll cum!"

That's exactly your intention. Pulling down her thick thighs so that her pussy covers your face, you let your tongue dance and glide everywhere on her eager little core. Eunbi screams. Tears pour down her face as her juices spill down on you. You lap her nectar up the best you can, but some still slide on your chin, as well as the sides of your face. You make up for the lost drops and instead go for those that are dripping directly from her cunt—yes, this will make you a god. Feels accurate when you’re already in paradise with Eunbi’s legs around you and her screams filling your ears like prayer.

"Daddy, slow down a little!" Eunbi yells. Her thighs crush your head while her hips cringe to and fro. She purses her lips before letting out a feral cry. "Daddy!"

You follow up with a few last licks at her sensitive clit. Eunbi's out of breath, but you're not, despite being held captive by her thighs just a few seconds prior. That's why your lips still find her pussy, bringing it to complete weakness, cornering its sensitivity and preying on it. Eunbi sobs, wrists on her face, as you continue violating her pussy. You're never leaving it unattended.

"Daddy," she says tiredly. "Oh, daddy, too much, daddy—"

The natural flood of her orgasm overflows. You tap on her thigh encouragingly and open your mouth to taste her. "Yes, yes, that’s it, you’re so fucking delicious. Daddy loves when you cum on his face. Come on, baby, come on, my good girl."

Eunbi's legs give out. She moves away from your head in order not to hurt you and collapses on your bed. Her whole body is aquiver.

"Daddy," she calls out for you. "Daddy, please."

"You're alright, baby," then trail your thumb along her chin and jaw; guide her with demonstrations and soft words, "take a deep breath." 

The overstimulated girl quivers and mewls. 

"You're alright," you say. Kiss that forehead that's recently been covered with a cute fringe, and then kiss her mouth. "My pretty girl's alright. Daddy loves you."

It's a reminder that you'll make again and again without getting tired. Eunbi's so lovely that you want to make her know she's safe with you, that she's loved.

Her reply is expected but relieves you anyway. "I love you, too, daddy." 

Her breath catches as you kiss her. It's messy, torrid, too, when her hands hook into your head with a touch that's weak yet worshipful. 

“Mmm, my daddy, my only daddy.” She kisses you sloppily, almost drunkenly. One thing leads to another, and your hands are on her hips to lead her on your lap again. Her breathy bedroom voice turns you on so much. “I love you. Daddy, I love you so much.”

"Just wanted to taste yourself on my lips, didn’t you?” you ask. You see right through her.

She blushes. There's your answer.

“No problem with that. You taste delicious. Here.” 

Swiping up a line of slick from her delicate pussy, you guide your slick fingers into her mouth. She latches onto them and holds your wrist in place as her sweet mouth seeks to taste everything. 

"Thank you," she murmurs. "Love you. So good to me."

This is what paradise is. Eunbi's broken words spill from the sides of her mouth while she licks her cum off your fingers. Her eyes are closed, deep in worship for you. What a worst time to be religious. After having just spanked her and eaten her delicious pussy, she has no place to be saintly. Sacrilege at best. 

But you let her, since she's so good. Such a good girl for you.

"You’re good to me, too, pretty." The nickname has not once left your mouth with how it fits her so much. The bangs she sports and those naturally full, pouty lips make her the most beautiful woman in the world. "Since you're such a thankful princess, you deserve to cum again. You want to cum again?"

"Really? Daddy? Daddy, you'll let me cum again?" 

"You don't want to?"

"No, no, I want. I want it." Eunbi nods her head and looks up at you with desperation. "Make me cum again."

"So demanding," you reprimand her. "Guess you don't want me to go through and worship these?" 

Reach up behind her and touch her right where everyone expects you to: her large, round tits. They're what everybody looks at, and it honestly makes you feel a little possessive. But you always are reminded of how right they could be. They look so full even behind thick fabric.

"Daddy!" They're also where she's most sensitive. She lets out tiny squeals all while you're having your wicked way pinching the pink tips.

"Ohh, you like that, huh?" You squeeze; she locks her legs together and whines. "Makes you want to scream for me? Scream and yell like a needy little girl?"

You know how this goes. Given the sensitivity on her breasts, she'll whine out and beg more than she would if you touched her anywhere else. She'll probably even cum on the spot like she did when you spanked her. There's a common factor here, you think. Gotta place what that is.

Eunbi's eyes water and she says, "Daddy, please. I need you, don't be mean to me."

Found it. It’s you. Not to be narcissistic and everything, but it’s definitely you.

"Alright. Take your clothes off. Want to see how pretty you look under all of them."

She lifts her shirt up. Your mouth waters. Each bit of her perfect, curvy body is uncurtained—the flat of her tummy, the curves of her hips, the undersides of her breasts. Then her breasts themselves. The deep cleavage has your eyes coming out of their sockets, along with the massive recoil they do as they're released from the hem.

Her hair is messier now. The neckline and fabric did a number on them. The fringes are all over the place. 

Laugh fondly. Meanwhile, you straighten her bangs. "You alright there, pretty?" you say. 

"Mhm," she hums, giggling, too, albeit shyly. Then her eyes turn needy, their glimmer unmistakeable. "Please?"

You push her down gently on the pillows, pinning her back to the blankets. Her long hair is in a disarray behind her as you kiss her body. The flat of her tummy tenses when you press your lips there. What really gets her moaning, however, is your mouth on her tits. Her beautiful, perfect tits.

Press them together with a hard squeeze. Run your tongue on one of the hard nipples. She sharply gasps, looking down at your sinful little doings. You gaze back up at her with unwavering eye contact as you suck on her nipple as you did to her clit.

Same effect. She's whining again. 

"Daddy, daddy, daddy—" 

You've lost count of the many times she's said that. 

You don't mind adding a lot more to the list.

"What is it, baby?" 

Eunbi makes her desires known through bated breaths and little moans. "Now,” she says. “Inside me. Please."

It takes no time taking your pants and briefs off. It is painful, though; your cock is a rod solid and lengthy for the idea of fucking your wife after all those weeks of being held back. Her naked body waiting for you just tempts you even more. Her legs are spread, her face radiates need, and her pussy is dripping wet. You know she wants you the same way you want her.

So why hold back?

You can’t hold back your feral pump nor your groan either. Slipping inside Eunbi’s warm, drenched pussy is like reminiscing a wild memory. Her grip brings you back to all the times you’ve made love to her, right on this bed, until she curled up and begged you to go faster. It makes you promise to give it to her this time hard and fast, the way you know she likes it.

Give her every inch, then take them back. Give them again. Withdraw. You choose this cycle and Eunbi couldn’t love it more. You have to battle with the tightness her pussy inflicts all the time, and it’s both a pro and a con with how it hugs your length and caresses it with the texture of her walls while refusing to let you in. You can see Eunbi’s face twist as she tries to relax, but each part of you that she’s fed, she ends up tightening and moaning again.

“You’re fucking me s-so well,” says Eunbi strainedly. Her fingers sink into the sheets as she trembles with your unforgiving thrusts. “I missed this so much.”

You did, too. You missed controlling Eunbi sexually, having her weak and on her knees. You missed the comfort of her warm little hole that’s always skilled in its job of milking you dry. It’s still strong and exceptional in its talent.

Eunbi’s noises are loud and unbridled. She always drones on and on, something that makes her cuter than she already is, and there’s no difference in the bedroom. She moans and talks about how amazing it feels, how you’re penetrating her perfectly. And all the same, you love hearing her.

“So fucking tight,” you say. You just have to drive your hips upwards, to send her rocking to and fro. “Take it all, okay? I know my pretty girl can do it. She’s the perfect thing for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

Eunbi’s ears grow pink. She nods, because that's another thing that’s true. She is your perfect girl, your only girl you’d take at night. Your husky words of praise go at odds with how you’re fucking her, with her ass up in the air and her legs in your hard touch, but it turns her on so much that she’s willing to do anything—anything for you to go on and have your way with her.

And have your way with her you do. You push yourself past her pussy lips and let them hug the sides of your length after you fill her up entirely. Her cunt pulsates, and it drives you to drop the whole of your hips in between her legs, flicking past her G-spot.

“M-mmm!” Even with just a hum, Eunbi stutters. Your hands on her tits kneading and tightening make her lose all common sense. Coupled with your cock ruining her insides, she can’t think straight. 

She doesn’t have to when you’re here to catch her. You’ll think for her so she’s allowed to lie back. Right now, you’re thinking of completely ruining her.

“Oh, oh my god, daddy,” she says the moment you thrust up into her with more precise strokes. She looks down at your cock swiftly drilling her. "That's—so—ffffuck!"

Eunbi begins to curl up, the heat overtaking her, but you spread her legs. Force her to take you by stuffing her cunt even more. Her tightness grows and soon she's yelling, almost in an episode of frenzy. 

You're humping her like you need it as much as you would water and food, without care for how much you're digging her into the blankets or how much she screams. There's only one thing you want and that is to be buried all the time in her sweet little pussy. You can tell that it's what she wants, too—her hips gyrate, weak yet determined, and she's filling the room with her screams.

"Yes, yes, yes." She places a hand over the back of your own that's on her breast. "Fuck me, hurt me, d-do whatever you want with me, I'm just your pretty girl—daddy, don't stop, please!"

To hear her talk about herself so lewdly and feed your mind with the idea that you could do anything to her makes you force your groin up and slam her legs on your shoulders. Fight against the resistance of her pussy, slap her bouncing thighs, push only forward to fill her up.

"I promise, Eunbi, I'm not stopping," you say, a new oath made. You lean in darkly and stare right into her eyes. They're that of a prey's; she had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're squirting and crying, and I know that's what you want, right? To have daddy make you cum like he always does?"

"Yes, faster, please!"

"Fuck." You pause, and before she could complain, you place a hand on her throat and push her down. "Then you're gonna fucking get it."

She's talked to you about this before. She's proposed to have you pin her down and choke her, shyly saying it with a cutesy plea to her words, but you always refused. You didn't want to go too far. Now, however, you give her what she wants: 

Close your hand around her neck. The look on her face is immaculate—her eyes are wide with both bliss and thrill, and her mouth is open. For the first time, she doesn't make any noise. She's letting it all out in a silent, withheld scream. 

Squeeze. She gasps. There's a river of wetness inside her; it flows freely and limitlessly, pouring onto your shaft and the sheets. 

"God, pretty," you say lowly. "Your pussy gets so tight when I choke you. Like you want me to keep choking you until you beg and beg. What's with that now? I thought you wanted me to be gentle."

Your hips don't stop; they're almost invincible. They don't tire of pistoning in between her legs. And Eunbi doesn't get tired of squeezing, of crying. Her whole body's in desperate heat, and you're the bad predator giving in to it. You’re using her, violating her—and she’s sprawled out taking it all, loving each second of it.

You firmly pinch her nipple. Her frozen, desperate look is broken with her loud scream. Its volume is tightened when you curl your fingers harder into the flesh of her neck. That's the neck you've kissed before, when she wanted to make love and when she needed a hug—it's so out of character for you to suddenly be using it in depriving her of a breath she so desperately needs.

“What? Can’t speak?” you say. Words say themselves without your mind registering them first. Even so, Eunbi clings to each and uses them to roll her core harder into your erection. “Is daddy choking you too hard? You’re so fucking wet from me doing it, pretty. I should do this more to you. I’d fucking keep you here and choke the hell out of you.”

Oh, the fantasy is tempting. You imagine calling a day off from work, as hard as it is to register for one, and using it to fuck your wife in all the corners of the house. With Yujin at school and the schedule empty, you could fill her pussy with cum and have her bent in all the best positions, each done with your hand on her throat. By the helpless look on her face, you know she loves the idea, too.

“Yes, daddy!” she screams. Those are your words of affirmation. Her gasps for air leave her more often, yet you keep your hand pinned to the base of her neck. “More, I need more, please give me more!”

“Look at you. You’re crying so hard. I can feel your throat pulse. You need to breathe so bad. But you want daddy’s cock more. What should I give to you then, huh, baby?”

“M-make me cum! Make me cum instead, daddy, I don’t need anything else!”

You could do that. It’ll happen anyway. She’s far too tight for one person to handle, backfiring on her so much that it drags her closer to the edge. And you’re pushing her with each thrust, with no offer of rescue.

“Such a spoiled little girl,” you tut, leaning in to bite her ear, “but so fucking pretty.”

Pretty girls like her, no matter what they do, deserve to cum. Swing yourself deep in between the hanging pillars of her legs and cum she does. Mouth open and on the cliffs of desperation and submissiveness, she lets out a squeezed scream. Her fist is firm on your wrist, making sure it doesn’t leave her throat as the thrill of the danger makes her cum harder than she thought she would.

Finally, your hand loosens. She gasps. Her wonderful chest rises and falls, air finally entering her lungs. Her head feels light; it’s the most gratifying experience she’s had in a while. 

It’s the same for you. Maybe the sexual frustration that accumulated over the weeks was a good thing. You let it all out on her and now you’re throbbing.

“Daddy?” She’s a survivor of a storm who just emerged from the flood of lust.

“Yeah?” You soothe her, like you always do whether after sex or when she’s overwhelmed. “You want anything?”

“Think… you need to look at the time.”

“Let me run you a bath first, please, baby?” You lean down and kiss her forehead, rubbing the space on her chest where her heart beats fastly. It worries you, and for a moment you wonder if you should ever do this again. She’s catching her breath and failing. “You’re so worn out.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, daddy, listen to me, please?” She closes her eyes to collect her composure that was lost after and while you fucked her.. “Look at the time.”

“It’s…” You steal a look at the digital clock sitting on your bedside table. It’s sometime after twelve midnight. “Midnight.”

“And you, haah, know what that means, right? Right?”

“It’s…” 

It hits you. The knowledge infiltrates your brain and suddenly all lust is gone. Your heart’s only filled with feelings of affection for the girl you’re incredibly lucky to share your love and home with. You welcome her into the depths of your embrace.

“It’s the twenty-seventh,” you murmur. “Your birthday.”

Your own heart starts to beat faster at the thought. Eunbi’s just spent another year with you, another year with Yujin. Your family grows everyday with love, and it brings you more satisfaction than your job could.

You look at Eunbi. Observe her sharp nose, beautiful hair, and lips that are always calling out for you. You realize in that moment that you can’t be more grateful that she’s the girl you married. There are plenty of girls out there who might have wanted you, but your heart doesn’t belong to them. It belongs to her, your wife. Your princess.

“Happy birthday.” Stroke her hair and gently tuck it behind a red ear. “Baby girl, I’m so grateful to have you, you know?”

She flushes. Eunbi loves that you’re always there to tell her she means something. “Thank you.”

You ought to do something special for her. She works so hard and loves so hard that it’s only right that her birthday is special. But your ideas are simple, and you decide to just let her choose. Anything she wants, you’ll give.

“What do you want us to do today?”

Eunbi takes a moment to inhale, then opens her eyes. She’s never looked more sure. Though her voice is weak, it holds conviction.

“I want us to stay here in this bedroom, daddy.” She clasps your hand and places it from her face to her pussy. “I want you to fuck me harder. I want you to do it until I can’t feel my legs.”

Your eyes widen. She’s never been this upfront. It’s rare to see that firm look in her irises.

“Then…” Eunbi pauses although she knows what to say next. She knows what she wants from you. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”

The silence from your end is lined with shock. You can’t say anything—your words are lost in the ends of your mouth due to the feeling of Eunbi’s slick, hot pussy under your touch. She’s as wet as she was before. She obviously wants more.

“You didn’t cum yet,” she explains. She grinds your fingers on her lacy, wet core, and whimpers at how hot it feels post-orgasm. “So when you do, I want it all here. Right here. It’ll fill me up so much that I might get pregnant.”

It’s been a while since you released inside Eunbi. You’ve always taken special care to practice safe sex, even unprotected. You’ve let her swallow your cum instead or unloaded into a rolled condom. Now, the offer she’s making—of bearing you another child, of letting you give her another little joy to take care of—has you speechless. Would she really let you?

“You’ll do it for me, right?” Eunbi rolls on top of you, her amazing body pressed to your skin. Although she’s above you, she couldn’t be more of a submissive, needy girl. Each limb of hers strains to be touched and controlled. There’s a reason she wants you as her birthday present. “You’ll pound me full of cum and drill it all into my womb, all so I could be your pregnant birthday girl?”

“Pretty…” you say, not knowing what else to tell her. Hesitation curls around your mind and body. You’re not totally convinced she’s sure about this.

Her large eyes are wanton with lust and her lower lip’s sealed beneath those teeth. She nods, happy that you finally responded. 

“Yes, yes, that. You always call me pretty, daddy, and… I really like it. But can you imagine how much prettier I could be if you gave me your baby? My tits would look even bigger, and they’d be so sensitive that if you sucked them, I’d cum on your lap instantly.”

How do you breathe again?

“And when people ask me about us, I’ll be the good wife at your side, standing there and saying I’m just so happy to have my daddy’s baby.”

The thought of Eunbi shaking as you overstimulated her by just playing with her nipples makes you warm on the inside and out. Additionally, that image she painted of herself: the silent girl, the pretty wife beside you who’s full with a baby and wearing a smile so innocent it deceives people of what she wanted today—it makes you feral. Not even warm or hot, just the pure carnal desire to knock her up.

“And you know what else, daddy?”

“W-what?” Now you’re the one who feels like they were just left in a chokehold minutes ago. Your mind just runs with ideas of fucking her senseless.

“They’re going to think we planned it all along. But no; what they don’t know is that it was by chance. That Eunbi asked for it suddenly, and you gave in. You gave her creampie after cream—”

Well, you could say that you’re easily convinced.

Eunbi’s prone when you switch positions, quickly taking back your lost power and pinning her back down. You press her legs together and push them down; she peeks from behind them, thrilled to see what you would do after she successfully riled you up. Obviously, you don’t give it to her just yet; you set your cock on her splayed pussy lips and start to grind down on her. 

“Thirsty brat,” you tell her. You tighten your squeeze on her ankles so she remains still while you hump her, but never really giving her the real thing. Groan; even without penetrating her, she feels wet and hot. “When did pretty become such a bad girl?”

Her clit throbs and you do, too. Why are you lying to yourself and acting like you don’t want to dick her down? 

“Bred, bred, bred. Need to be bred.” Eunbi’s lower body rolls. She’s panting. “Need to feel your big cock inside me.”

Fuck, you’re gonna give in anyway. You say: “What’s the magic word?” 

Eunbi swallows. You think you’ve seen that before. She was underneath you that time, too. “Please, daddy.”

The magic word is “please,” but if she says your favorite name with that, there’s a hundred percent chance she’ll get what she wants. She increases the chances with her downturned little mouth and her hands folded together. You don’t know if you should cuddle or fuck her. That’s your daily dilemma with Kwon Eunbi.

“Ahhh, so big!” 

Her shout of pleasure is instant, and it continues with the rhythm of your pumps. You don’t bother creating a buildup—it’s her birthday; she’ll get what she wants. And you know that Eunbi likes it rough and hard. Don’t mind the bruises and spots of red on her skin and ass; it’s what she craves more than anything.

You do, too. But this experience is more gratifying because you actually get to stay inside her hole when you cum. Your seed would go straight to her womb, and everyone would know that it’s you who made her pregnant. Moan at that concept which gives strength to your muscles to keep pushing, keep thrusting, keep bringing you to orgasm so your wife, who you’d do anything for, would get what she wants.

You make sure each thrust you inflict on Eunbi’s fertile body hits her cervix, a prophecy of what’s to come. She groans helplessly—her knuckles turn white as they grip the fabric beneath her that’s sure to be stained with both of your juices. Who cares, though? It would be a constant reminder of the night you made Eunbi’s birthday wish come true. It would be a memory of what brought your future child into the world.

“I want it deep, daddy!” gasps Eunbi. “So deep that I can’t feel anything, daddy, harder, please!”

She knows the power in her begging and how easily you fold for a girl like her. You’d give her another spanking for that, but you give her a punishment she benefits from anyway: rougher thrusts that slap your balls to her spanked ass.

But she’s the birthday girl. So you fulfill her desire and drive yourself into her core until your balls aren’t just slapping her ass anymore but are pressed firmly to her crotch.

“Oh yes! Just like that!” Eunbi levitates her back off the creaking cushions and screams. You’re starting to fear she’ll wake Yujin. Good thing she sleeps like a log. “Pound me, cum inside me!”

It seems like there’s degrees of roughness you haven’t reached yet. Your thrusts grow in speed and harshness as time goes by, and the strength is limitless. Although you’re only doing the same thing which is fucking Eunbi in hopes of breeding her, your tempo doesn’t stay the same. It hits her with a force impelled by lust, pushing the sins deeper inside her that it starts to corrupt her, too.

Your balls are heavy with an impending load. Slapping her thighs, you momentarily part them so you could rub her clit side to side, the way you know she’s weak for. Eunbi’s expression changes into bliss to paradise itself—her tightness chokes your length from head to base.

"God fuck!" Eunbi lets out a spray of wetness as her body thrusts upwards. "Cumming!"

Oh she’s cumming alright, but she’s also squirting. There’s no time to weep over not putting a towel beneath her; you’re stuck watching Eunbi’s pussy become soppier while it releases a messy jet of girl cum. You marvel at how more comes out if you give it to her harder.

Ever the crybaby even in sex, tears start to fall down in little droplets down her red cheeks. They source from all three: pleasure, pain, overstimulation. It’s destroying her and yet she relishes each hit.  

“Do it now, please, it’s too much! Breed me now—c-can’t—take—it!”

Shove yourself to the depths of her and unload. Your wife exhales repeatedly. There’s so much of your sticky load that it overflows inside her hole and creams her outer lips. Push yourself further and pull her legs up so it’s all guaranteed to go to her womb.

“Like this, pretty? Your pussy’s gonna take every drop, right?” Even in your craze of lust you could hear yourself weakening.

The cum that shoots into her never seems to stop.

“Yes, so much,” Eunbi moans quietly. Her arms are limp beside her. As her consciousness dies, her orgasm lives on. “Breed me, daddy, ohhh… breed me… breed… me…”

-

Yujin’s thick black hair, all inherited from her mother, looks perfect today. What makes it more satisfying is that those braids running down her head and the cute pigtails were fixed by you. 

“Wow, it’s so perfect!” Your daughter admires herself in the vanity mirror and grins up at you. “Thank you, papa!”

Her young yet advanced vocabulary makes you chuckle. As you hear it, you realize you can’t wait until she grows up and starts to talk even more beautifully, like the words she takes from the books you always see her nose buried in.

It’s 7:00 AM, and Yujin’s bus is about to come to the driveway. You’re lucky to have finished fixing her hair on time. That’s partly why you reciprocate the smile. The main reason is that your daughter manages to chip away your tiredness and make it all worth it.

“Of course, Yujin,” you say. “Be good at school, okay?”

“I always am, papa!”

Your daughter always carries this confidence wherever she goes. You’re glad you and Eunbi raised her properly so she isn’t doubtful of herself. She’s going places—the girl’s only six yet she speaks and multiplies better than you can. Not that you’re embarrassed; it makes you more proud of her.

“And behave for your mommy, okay? It’s—”

“—her birthday!” she finishes giddily. Yujin never forgets anything, especially birthdays. She just celebrated hers a month ago. “Can I greet her?”

Pause. Has Eunbi recovered or is she laying there getting off to what happened? “Maybe later?” you say, hoping not to sound suspicious. “Mommy’s… just having a sleep-in day. Just make her a card or write her a poem when you come back home.”

“Okay!” Yujin replies. She turns her head to the yellow bus peeking at the semi-circular window of the door. “Bye, papa!”

You tell her the same. Wave goodbye to her. You make sure she gets on the bus before turning away. Time to attend to your other princess.

Usually, you’d spend time admiring your house as you walk to wherever you need to go. You’re proud of the bookshelves and design, but today is a day different from all the others. You only have one clear vision the moment you open the door of your room with your wife.

She’s sound asleep. Her little body’s curled up under the comforter and her head is nestled in the hood of the zipperless jacket you changed her into the night before. She looks so adorable in it that you want to just take her into your arms and bite her cheeks. You have strange instincts when it comes to seeing your wife, who could switch between being a sexbomb to a girl you’d protect any time of the day.

Unlike Yujin, she’s a light sleeper, for she catches your footsteps seconds before you crash down into the mattress with her. 

“Daddy?” she asks sleepily. She reaches for you. You catch her hand.

“Too early for that, isn’t it?” You smile into her hair anyway. “Good morning, pretty. Happy birthday.”

The nickname isn’t sexual anymore. It’s a pet name now, a call for you to take care of her. And you do your duty well, gathering her into your touch and keeping her protected from the cold.

Eunbi says her thank you, then blinks.“Y-Yujin, she still has to dress—”

“I took care of it.” You gently guide her back down in your arms. “She's on the bus.”

The panic dissolves from her face. She turns around to hug you back. All she says is contained in a little whisper: “Thank you, daddy.”

She throws a knee over your hip and ushers you to herself. As expected, to be honest. Eunbi loves all forms of affection, especially the physical kind. So you give her all of it: a kiss, a tighter embrace, a touch that wanders but not too far. Like you said, it’s too early.

Eunbi hums into your neck. “I’m so happy.”

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm. You make me happy.”

“You just want to get bred again,” you joke. Kiss away the pouty look on her face. “I’m kidding. You make me happy, too, pretty.”

What you say is nothing short of the truth. Eunbi fills your life with purpose. You wake up and keep doing so to make sure she has someone. You work so she’s well provided for, even if she has her own job herself. You come home so that the nights aren’t lonely. You know a lot of men who couldn’t say the same about their relationship with their wives.

You’re happy to be the different one for once. You’ll always love Eunbi. Even after you die, you’d be looking out for her, if there ever is an afterlife.

“You and Yujin are the most important people to me,” you tell her. 

“Well, after you bred me…” Eunbi smiles slyly. “There’ll be another important person in your life, daddy.” A pause. “Maybe we’ll name them Wonyoung?”

You shrug. You don’t know. But then you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her. You act on it, pecking her. It turns into something deeper, and soon you’re on top of her again, rendering her whining once more.

As you kiss Eunbi, you realize that there’s no sure path to the future. But all you know is that you’ll stay with her along the way, and that you’re excited for all the good things to come.