#mmm i could drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dollgxtz · 2 months ago

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Two Can Play That Game

Word Count: 8.7k

Tags: Sylus x fem!reader, brat taming, dom/sub undertones, spanking (with a belt), brat tamer, jealousy, orgasm denial, punishment, fingering, teasing, nicknames like kitten, sweetie, good girl, reader is very spoiled and bratty :3

Summary: Sylus never says no to you. He usually buys you whatever you want, whenever you want. But today he says it just to get a rise out of you. Fine...two can play that game. However, you will soon find out that even he has his limits when jealous...

"I must ask," he says conversationally, his breath warm against your ear, "Was it thrilling to take pictures for other men while in another mans bed? In clothes he bought you?" His fingers tangle gently in your hair, not pulling, just establishing control. You don't answer him. You know better not to answer such a question. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. "For every...lets say $100, that's one hit with the belt."

AN: This was supposed to be a little drabble but I got carried away oops. I was inspired by the new phone call where Sylus gets so clearly jealous over that worker in the cafe...I mean what more can I say. Jealous Sylus is hot :33

"Please please pleaseeee," you whine, tugging at the hem of Sylus's coat and looking up at him with the biggest, sparkliest eyes you could muster. You even puff out your cheeks a little for added effect, knowing full well what kind of reaction that usually earned you.

"I need at least $1000 if I want to get every limited edition item before they sell out...they're going so fast," you say, tightening your arms around his waist like a koala refusing to be pried off a tree.

This little act wasn’t new. You’d done this routine more times than you could count—sweetly pouting, batting your lashes, and pressing your cheek against his chest as you begged him for your latest indulgent whim. And Sylus, your ever-indulgent partner, had always been so easy to sway. He’d never even hesitated. Whether it was sleek black cards slid into your palm or transfers pinged to your phone with a little kiss on your temple, he had always, always given in.

"How could I ever say no to my sweet girl?" he would murmur, like it was the most obvious truth in the world. Sometimes he'd even pick you up and give your face gentle kisses, like spoiling you was the highlight of his entire day.

But today...today was different.

He gave you a soft smile—still affectionate, still gentle—but then, to your absolute horror, he shook his head.

"Mmm...I think not today, kitten. Next time," he said, voice calm and maddeningly firm.

Your arms froze around him. Your expression dropped in real-time, eyes wide, mouth parting in disbelief. Did he just—did he actually—say no? He had quite literally never said no before. Not once. Not even when you asked for that ultra-rare imported skincare fridge that cost more than a mortgage. This had to be some kind of joke. Right?

You pulled back just enough to look up at him fully, lips wobbling, ready to protest again. You were already cycling through your arsenal of cute tricks—maybe a dramatic sigh? Teary eyes?—because surely this wasn’t how this ended. Not with a "no."

"But Sy..." you gently whined, faceplanting into his chest with an exaggerated pout. The nickname was your secret weapon, sweet and playful, something you knew always made his heart melt just a little. "It’s limited edition stuff! You know how fast those go. And I’ve been good too…" you added with a soft, teasing tone, slowly trailing your finger along the curve of his neck, the gesture feather-light and flirtatious.

You were confident this would do the trick. It always did. Your go-to routine of sweet pleading paired with just the right amount of clingy affection had never failed before. He’d usually cave within seconds, either sighing contently before handing over his card or laughing under his breath about you being spoiled while simultaneously transferring money to your account. But this time…

This time, all you got in return was that infuriating smirk of his.

"You look adorable with that expression, sweetie" he said casually, chuckling as he ruffled your hair in a way that felt more teasing than affectionate. "Perhaps I’ll let you keep it for today. For my amusement."

You froze in disbelief, blinking rapidly. That wasn’t a yes. That wasn’t even a maybe. That was—was he seriously refusing you right now? Your glare sharpened instantly as your lips jutted out into a full-blown pout. You thumped his chest—not hard, but pointedly—and let out a long, frustrated huff.

Oh. So he wanted to play games today? Fine. Game on.

You stepped back dramatically, throwing your arms up with an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever. Have it your way,” you huffed, spinning on your heel and stomping toward the car like an offended princess denied her crown. You made sure he saw the little toss of your hair, the extra sway in your hips—because if he wanted to be difficult, you were going to be impossible.

The date wrapped up without much drama—well, if you didn’t count the dramatic pout glued to your face all evening, or the way you stubbornly gave Sylus the cold shoulder from the moment he refused you. You sat across from him at the candlelit table, arms crossed tight beneath the linen napkin on your lap, chewing your steak with slow, deliberate bites like the food had personally offended you. You barely looked in his direction, except to shoot the occasional glare or let out a sigh so loud the table next to you probably heard. A whine here, a sharp huff there—just enough to make it painfully clear you weren’t going to let this go.

And Sylus? That cocky menace? He didn’t budge. He just sipped his wine with maddening calm, eyes twinkling like this was all an elaborate joke for his amusement. At one point, he leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm, and smiled. "You know," he said, voice smooth and low, "kittens always make the same little noises when they’re upset."

You nearly dropped your fork.

Ooooh. This jerk. You wanted to launch a breadstick at his head. You wanted to crawl across the table and wipe that smug grin off his stupidly perfect face. But how? That was the problem. Sylus didn’t rattle. He didn’t flinch, didn’t fumble, didn’t even raise his voice at you. No matter what bratty storm you stirred up, he was always maddeningly patient, always one step ahead.

You sulked all the way to the car, all the way through the quiet drive home, arms folded like a fortress across your chest. Your mind raced the entire ride, cycling through schemes and petty revenges like flashcards. Maybe you’d text one of your admirers, just to provoke a reaction. Maybe you’d steal and attempt to max out his black card on purpose. Something—anything—to make him crack.

When the car finally pulled up to the mansion, you didn’t even wait for him to open your door. You climbed out with exaggerated grace, tossed your hair, and strutted up the stairs like an offended queen returning to her palace. But then, just as you stepped inside, fate handed you the perfect opening.

His phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, sighed, and gave you an apologetic smile. "Business. I’ll have to leave for a bit" He pressed a soft kiss to your lips—infuriatingly gentle—and disappeared out the door, already speaking in that cool, professional tone of his.

And just like that, you were alone. Whatever, not like you weren't used to his sudden disappearances by now.

Alone in his sprawling, high-ceilinged foyer, surrounded by leather furniture, dim lighting, and that faint scent of cologne that always lingered in the air. Unsupervised. Unchecked.

Your lips slowly curled into a smile.

Oh, Sylus. If he thought your tantrum was over…

You made your way upstairs to the bedroom, each step slow and deliberate, the cool floor a quiet contrast to the heat bubbling under your skin. The air was still, heavy with that faint scent of cologne and luxury that always clung to Sylus’s space, and it only fueled the spark of rebellion in your chest. If he thought he could brush you off with a smile and a kiss on the lips, he had another thing coming.

The second you entered the room, your eyes were locked on your shared closet. You didn’t hesitate. Determination hardened your gaze as you swung the doors open and began to dig. Silks, lace, structured jackets, soft cotton tees—none of it was what you needed. Your fingers moved quickly, flicking through hangers, rummaging through drawers, pausing only to toss aside a piece or two that got in your way.

Then, your fingertips brushed over something thin and impossibly soft. You froze. Pulled it out. And there it was.

Tucked neatly toward the back, untouched and still wrapped in soft tissue from the boutique: a white slip dress. Almost sheer, impossibly delicate. Not see-through enough to be scandalous, but sheer enough to spark the imagination. You held it up, letting it sway gently in your hands as a grin tugged at the corners of your lips. Oh yes—this would do nicely.

It was the kind of dress that was made to be seen by someone who wouldn’t be allowed to touch. Innocent in color, wicked in fit.

You stripped out of your clothes with little ceremony, letting your discarded outfit fall to the floor. Then you stepped into the slip dress, carefully pulling it over your shoulders and smoothing it down over your figure. The fabric was featherlight, almost like a second skin, clinging in all the right places and catching on the subtle curves of your body. The hem kissed the top of your thighs, the neckline dipping just low enough to draw the eye.

You adjusted the straps, letting one slip slightly off your shoulder before nudging it back into place. The mirror reflected back something soft, sultry, and calculated. You tilted your head, gave your reflection a slow once-over, and lifted the hem slightly to re-adjust where it clung a little too high at the hip.

It was a look that said, "Oops, did I wear this by mistake?" when every stitch was picked out with intent.

You even applied a light layer of gloss to your lips and tousled your hair a little, just enough to give it that messy, just-out-of-bed sheen. Not too perfect—no, that would ruin the effect. You wanted to look like a dream and a challenge all at once.

You stepped back, admiring the effect with a smirk that tugged at your lips.

Yeah. This would more than do.

You pulled out your phone and made your way to Sylus's bed, crawling onto the plush comforter with a wicked little smirk playing on your lips. The soft fabric of the dress slid over your skin as you moved, clinging tighter with every shift of your hips. It was like the dress had been made for this—barely-there, teasing just enough to be dangerous. You positioned yourself carefully, angling your body this way and that, letting the hem ride up a little higher each time, letting the neckline dip lower than it should. You knew your angles, and you weren’t afraid to use them.

Your hair spilled around your shoulders as you arched your back just enough to accentuate your figure, your lips parted slightly in a deliberately breathless expression. You cycled through poses—knees bent, laying on your side, half-turns that showed just enough. Each snap of the camera was a calculated strike, crafted to toe that perfect line between seductive and untouchable. Every glance at the lens carried a silent message: look, but don’t you dare touch.

You finally landed on the winning shot.

You were laying flat on your stomach, feet kicked up in the air behind you in an almost playful pose, your body stretched across the bed like a perfectly unwrapped gift. The camera angle was just right—your butt peeked into the edge of the frame, subtle but impossible to miss. The front of your chest was also faintly visible, pressed softly against the sheets, hinted at through the thin slip of fabric that caught the light in all the right places. The image was an illusion of innocence, cloaked in silk and suggestion. It whispered secrets without saying a word.

You giggled to yourself, the kind of giggle that came from knowing you’d just lit a match. Scrolling through filters, you picked one that added a warm, golden glow to your skin, bringing out the soft shadows and romantic lighting of the bedroom. Your cheeks looked naturally flushed, your eyes dreamy and a little wild.

Then came the real fun. You opened your social media app and navigated to your public Moments feed, fingers tapping away with ease. A single, sweetly cheeky caption. Nothing too obvious. Just the right amount of flirt. And then the hashtags—oh, you chose them carefully. Trending ones, flirty ones, ones that practically begged people to stop and stare. Ones that would ensure this photo didn’t just go unnoticed. It would explode.

Post.

You hit the button and watched as the image loaded, crisp and glowing on the screen. Your heart fluttered with anticipation, not nerves—but a thrill. You placed your phone down on the bed beside you, letting your body melt into the mattress, stretching out lazily like a cat in sunlight. You felt deliciously smug.

Now it was just a matter of time.

How long until Sylus saw it? How long before someone else did? How long before his phone started buzzing with the growing flood of likes and comments from strangers who had no business seeing you like this—but were absolutely going to anyway?

You tucked your chin into the pillow, smiling to yourself.

It did not take long at all for the post to get some traction.

Within the hour or so, your phone was buzzing nonstop, lighting up with a steady stream of likes, comments, shares, and those little heart notifications that came in quicker than you could keep track of. People were noticing. People were reacting. And you were lounging there on Sylus’s bed, basking in the slow-burning chaos you’d started.

The comments came in waves. Some were sweet, complimenting your beauty, your glow, the elegance of the dress—words like "ethereal" and "goddess" paired with heart-eye emojis and rose-colored filters. Others were...not so polite. Thirsty replies from strangers you didn’t know, saying things that made you cringe, made your brow furrow. A few were outright creepy. You deleted those on sight, blocking users without hesitation, but the damage was already done. The post was out there, and it was spreading fast.

You rolled onto your back with a sigh, your phone raised above your head as you continued scrolling. It was almost funny—how predictable it all was. You knew the moment you posted it what kind of reaction you’d get. You knew the hashtags would push it to the explore pages. You knew someone would tag a friend, then another, then another. But even so, seeing it all unfold made your chest buzz with adrenaline.

You giggled to yourself as you tapped through DMs—some from followers you recognized, others from complete strangers trying their luck. You deleted the worst of them, but not before archiving a few particularly flattering ones. Not because you were interested, of course, but because you knew Sylus might see them.

And that was the real game, wasn’t it?

The ultimate goal.

Then, right in the middle of clearing out a flood of unsolicited messages, a new notification popped up—distinct. Crisp. Your thumb hovered for half a second.

Sylus: I saw it. You can delete it now.

Seven words. Simple. No emojis. Nothing but cool, clean finality.

And yet, it hit like a sucker punch to the stomach. You stared at the message, pulse picking up. The smirk returned to your lips, slow and sly. He saw it. He saw it. You could practically feel the shift in the air, the subtle tension winding through the silence of the room like a live wire.

You reread the message. Once. Twice.

And then you did not delete the post.

Instead, you stretched your arms over your head, arching your back into the mattress like a content little cat, your smile widening as you tapped back into the moments app. Notifications were still flooding in. More likes. More reposts. More attention.

If Sylus thought that single message was enough to reel you back in, he clearly underestimated your mood tonight.

Now the real fun could begin.

"Mmmm. Not today. Maybe another time," you texted back, pausing just long enough for a flicker of doubt to creep in before you hit send.

Yeah, get a taste of your own medicine asshole.

The moment your message whooshed off into cyberspace, your heart skipped. Your face grew warm, the flush spreading all the way to your ears. A nervous little flutter worked its way through your chest as you set your phone down on the comforter, then immediately snatched it back up.

Had you gone too far?

You had teased Sylus plenty before—playfully, brattily, dramatically—but this was different. You had never really pushed him. Not like this. He had always let you be a little dramatic, indulging every pout, every sigh, every fake tear with maddening patience. But this? This was... direct defiance. And it made your stomach flip in a way that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.

The screen lit up.

Three dots. He was typing.

Your pulse surged. You sat up straighter, fingers gripping the edge of your phone just a bit too tightly. Your eyes were locked on those three little dots like they were a countdown. Here it comes. The reaction. The reprimand. Maybe a taunt, maybe something sharper.

And then—

Nothing.

The dots vanished.

You stared at the screen in disbelief. Wait—what? That’s it? No reply? Not even a period? Just a seen at timestamp to cling to?

Your brows furrowed, confusion giving way to an irritated twist of your lips. No smug comeback? No passive-aggressive sarcasm? No "oh really, kitten?" Just...silence?

Bastard.

You let out a frustrated sound that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh, flopping back dramatically onto the pillows. Your hair spread out over the fabric like a halo as you stared at the ceiling, phone clutched against your chest like it might suddenly buzz with an explanation. But nothing came. Just silence, and your own thoughts chasing themselves in circles.

Was he actually mad this time? That didn’t sound like him. But what if he was? Or worse—what if he was ignoring you on purpose? Letting you stew? Was this part of his plan? Was this some next-level psychological warfare meant to make you squirm?

Well, it was working.

You sat up again with a sharp exhale, glaring at your screen as if you could will a response into existence. The nerve of him. Leaving you hanging like that? No reaction? No witty jab? He was definitely doing this on purpose. And maybe—just maybe—it was kind of hot.

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, frustration tangling with something dangerously close to anticipation.

You don’t realize you had fallen asleep until the quiet creak of the bedroom door jolts you from your haze. Your body stiffens instinctively, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flutter open to the soft golden hue of the bedroom lights. The sheets are still warm beneath you, and for a split second, everything feels still. Peaceful.

Until you see him.

Sylus steps into the room, his movements as smooth and controlled as ever. His face is unreadable—no trace of amusement, no hint of irritation. Just that usual calm, detached composure he always carried. It sends a ripple of nervous energy racing through your chest.

He looks...too calm.

You sit up quickly, heart beginning to race as you reach up to smooth your tousled hair. The silk dress clings to your body, creased slightly from where you’d fallen asleep in it, and your brain scrambles to remember how revealing your last pose had been. You grab your phone, pretending to check it, then think better of it and reach for the sheet instead, pulling it up and over yourself in a feeble attempt to look casual.

“Welcome back…” you murmur, voice soft and slightly hoarse. You force a smile—one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It feels crooked and strained, too tight at the corners.

Sylus doesn’t answer at first. He walks over to the bed with that same quiet, deliberate ease and leans down toward you. One hand sinks into the mattress beside your hip as he lowers himself, and his lips press gently against yours.

Not rough. Not rushed. Just a slow, deliberate kiss.

You blink at him, lips parted slightly as he pulls back. Caught off guard. Completely disarmed.

"Were you sleeping?" he asks, adjusting his tie with one hand, his tone neutral. Almost bored.

It throws you off. He wasn’t going to mention the post?

“Huh?” you blink again, trying to play along. “Uh...yeah. I think today was pretty long for me.” You stretch your arms up in an exaggerated yawn, glancing away like you’re just now waking up. Inside, your thoughts are spinning.

He hums in acknowledgment, his crimson eyes drifting lazily across your figure before returning to the device in his pocket. He pulls it out and unlocks it, gaze cool as his thumb scrolls slowly along the screen.

Still no mention. Not even a look.

Your stomach does a slow, uneasy flip.

You watch him from the corner of your eye, trying to read him, trying to sense something—anything—but he’s a blank slate. Calm. Casual. Like he didn’t just leave you hanging for hours after you posted one of the most daring photos of your life. Like he hadn’t sent that short, pointed message. Like none of it had happened.

Your pulse ticks louder in your ears.

Was this his move now? Leaving you in suspense?

He stands there for a moment longer, thumb tapping occasionally, face unreadable as he scrolls. The silence stretches just a little too long, the air too thick with the tension you’re pretending not to feel.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Was this his way of letting you stew? Of reminding you he didn’t have to respond to your games? Or worse...was he unbothered?

Did he really not care?

You swallow hard, trying to keep your cool. But the pressure builds in your chest.

You hear the familiar ding of your phone and glance toward it cautiously. That tone—you knew it. Your heart skips as you reach over and grab the device, already feeling the anticipation coil in your chest. You unlock the screen, and sure enough, your eyes widen.

Bright and bold, the notification glows at you like some kind of digital miracle.

$1,000 deposited to your account from Sylus.

Holy shit. Your plan worked?

You press your lips together, trying—failing—to hide the smug little smile threatening to spill across your face. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Why so shocked?” Sylus says, tone light, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze. He watches you closely, head slightly tilted. “You still want to go shopping, don’t you?”

He doesn’t sound mad. He doesn’t look upset. But there’s something strange in the air—something you can’t quite name. Calm, but not idle. Soft, but edged.

“Yeah, of course, Sy…thank you!” you say, quickly standing up and throwing your arms around him in a hug. He smells like cologne and leather and something darker, something distinctly him.

He hugs you back just as easily, strong arms wrapping around your waist. But then he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Delete it, sweetie.”

It’s not a threat. Not a growl. Not even cold. But the words settle on your skin like steel. Gentle and final.

Your breath catches.

“Oh! Y-yeah…sorry,” you say quickly, stepping back, fingers already fumbling to grab your phone again. The moment’s playfulness sours ever so slightly as the weight of those words lingers.

He gently smiles at you like nothing happened.

But you know better.

You delete the post without another word.

After deleting the post quickly, you giddily log into your account on the store to start adding the items you so desperately wanted. Your heart is still fluttering from the thrill, and a wide smile plays on your lips as you eagerly pull up your wishlist. A tiny, delighted squeal slips out when you see everything still sitting there—limited edition shoes, accessories, that one impossible-to-find designer dress you’d bookmarked and obsessed over for weeks.

Your fingers move with dizzy excitement, tapping away as you add each item to your cart like it’s a race against time. The numbers keep rising, the total bill ticking higher, but you don’t care. You’re floating in the afterglow of your victory. A thousand dollars, just like that—gifted, deposited, yours.

Maybe you should push his buttons this way more often, you think with a smug little grin, biting your lower lip. Clearly, a little rebellion went a long way. You imagine how many more little indulgences he might cave to if you kept playing this game right. You can't help but bask in the moment, riding the rush of control you think you have.

That is…until a sound cuts through the quiet air, sharp and deliberate.

Click.

Your ears perk, body instinctively tensing.

The unmistakable sound of a belt coming undone.

You freeze, thumb hovering mid-tap over your phone screen. Your head slowly turns, curiosity getting the better of you despite the knot now forming in your stomach.

Sylus stands by the dresser, hands working with unhurried ease as he slips the leather strap free from the buckle. The soft clink of metal follows. His sleeves are rolled back just slightly, revealing the veins along his forearms as he finishes the motion with a practiced calm. There’s no rush. No warning.

He catches your stare and tilts his head ever so slightly, his expression unreadable.

Then, a slow, deliberate smile spreads across his lips.

"Don’t look back here," he says, his voice deceptively gentle—laced with something darker, heavier, undeniable. "Keep shopping."

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your eyes widen, pulse skipping a beat. There’s no edge to his tone, no visible anger, and yet the command feels like a velvet-gloved grip around your neck. Not harsh. Just final.

You don’t dare speak. You nod quickly and turn your gaze back to your phone, trying to focus, trying to act like nothing’s changed.

But everything has.

Your fingers are shaking slightly now as you tap your screen. The glowing images of handbags and shoes blur together. Your heartbeat thumps in your ears, and your thoughts scatter like marbles across a slick floor.

The room feels smaller now, quieter except for the occasional rustle of fabric as he moves behind you. You don't look back—you wouldn't dare—but every sense is straining to track his movements. Your phone suddenly feels slippery in your grip, and the shopping cart you were so excitedly filling moments ago now seems trivial, even foolish.

You force yourself to scroll through another page of items, pretending to be absorbed in your task. The $1,000 balance that had felt like such a victory now hangs like a weight in your conscience. What had seemed like a clever manipulation has transformed into something else entirely.

The floorboards creak softly behind you. He's moving slowly, deliberately. Your thumb hovers over a pair of shoes you'd been coveting, but you can't bring yourself to tap "add to cart." The game has changed, and you're no longer certain of the rules.

"Finding everything you want?" His voice comes from closer than you expected, making you flinch slightly. The question sounds innocent enough, but the undertone makes your skin prickle with awareness.

"Y-yes," you manage, hating the slight tremor in your voice. You clear your throat and try to project confidence. "Just finishing up."

You feel him approach, his presence like a gathering storm at your back. The air feels charged, electric. He stops just behind you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, but not touching. Not yet.

His hand comes into view as he reaches around you, gently taking the phone from your grasp. You release it without resistance, your fingers suddenly useless. He studies the screen for a moment, scrolling through your selections with casual interest.

"Quite the haul," he observes mildly, as if commenting on the weather. "You must be very pleased with yourself, sweetie."

There's a pause, heavy with expectation. You're not sure if you're meant to answer, if you should apologize, defend yourself, or remain silent. The uncertainty is maddening.

He hands your phone back to you, the screen still glowing with your abandoned shopping cart. Then his fingers brush against your shoulder, tracing a path up to the nape of your neck. The touch is feather-light, but it sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

"I must ask," he says conversationally, his breath warm against your ear, "Was it thrilling to take pictures for other men while in another mans bed? In clothes he bought you?"

His fingers tangle gently in your hair, not pulling, just establishing control. You don't answer him. You know better not to answer such a question. Your breath catches in your throat as he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"For every...lets say $100, that's one hit with this belt."

His words hang in the air, precise and measured. Your breath catches, mind racing to calculate the total in your cart. You swear your heart just fell into your stomach. A belt??? The simple arithmetic becomes suddenly, terribly important.

"S-sylus, I'm really-"

"That's the exchange rate," he continues, calm as if discussing the weather. "Seems only fair, doesn't it? You wanted to play games...so let's play."

You feel his presence shift as he moves slightly, the leather of the belt sliding against itself with a soft, threatening whisper. Your mouth has gone dry, and the excitement of your shopping spree feels like it happened to someone else, in another lifetime.

"How much is in your cart right now?" he asks, though his tone suggests he already knows the answer. "Why don't you check for me, sweetie? Speak up."

Your fingers tremble as you reach for the phone, the screen now seeming to mock you with its bright display of luxury items. The total stares back at you, a number that had brought such satisfaction minutes ago now transformed into a countdown to something else entirely.

You had added way too much to your cart. Plus with the added shipping...it came up to a little past 2,000 dollars. You must've gotten carried away.

He waits patiently behind you, giving you time to absorb the full weight of your actions. The belt dangles from his hand, not threatening, simply present—a promise waiting to be kept.

"Well?" His voice is soft but expectant, leaving no room for evasion.

You shivered, tears welling up in your eyes as the intensity of the sensation overwhelmed you. "Its $2000. I...I accidentally added too much...let me just-" you started to explain, but your words were cut short as you felt the leather of the belt against the back of your leg, its roughness sending shivers through your body.

"Oh, but my sweet kitten, there's no need to take anything away," Sylus purred, his voice laced with amusement. "I'll happily pay for it all. What my kitten wants, she gets, right? You wanted this stuff so badly you were willing to flaunt yourself to get my attention. How adorable."

With a slow, deliberate motion, he lifted the back of your dress, exposing the smooth skin of your butt, the cool air contrasting with the heat of the room. Your body trembled, a mix of pleasure and apprehension, as you felt the leather glide across your sensitive skin, the roughness a stark contrast to the soft caresses you had experienced thus far.

"Now...you're gonna start counting after the first hit" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Squirm or move away and I'll make you add more stuff."

Your brain began to swim. More stuff...more spankings. You already have twenty. Shit. He's actually serious??

"Sylus...please, I'm really sorry," you whined, the words tumbling out as a tear slipped down your cheek. Yet, beneath the anxiety, a forbidden excitement simmered, igniting something deep within you. "Please, just let me give the money back..."

He shushes you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at your phone. You feel him grabbing the hem of your underwear and pulling them down. You flinch in anticipation and you hear a chuckle behind you.

"Don't laugh at me-!"

You turned your head, words of protest leaving your lips, but they were abruptly stolen away by the sharp, searing kiss of the belt against your skin. A cry tore from your throat, raw and instinctive, as tears sprang forth, soaking into the pillow beneath you. He wasn't playing around; that strike was anything but gentle.

"Still trying to act like a brat hm? I don't want to hear anything but counting, kitten. Starting over."

The sound of leather slicing through the air made your skin prickle, a sharp whistle that seemed to echo through the room before it ever made contact.

The second lash hit with a quick, stinging snap across your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat as the shock bloomed into heat. It wasn’t just the pain itself that made you tremble—it was the anticipation, the weight of each second dragging between every strike. Your hands curled into the sheets as you forced your voice out.

"O-one," you stammered, your tone breathless and shaking.

Another followed. Lower. Sharper. The belt bit into the tender part of your ass and pulled a yelp from your lips.

"T-two," you gasped, teeth clenched.

The third landed with more force, sending a pulse of heat through your core that made you arch slightly, only to flinch from the tension in your spine.

"Three," you whispered, more air than sound.

The fourth came before you could fully prepare, and your voice cracked when you counted, "F-four."

The sting lingered, throbbing beneath the sheer fabric of your dress, heat spreading in slow, dizzy waves. The cool air did nothing to soothe the ache on your bare ass, if anything it made each lash feel more intimate, more deliberate. You bit your lip, body squirming on instinct as the fifth snapped down with a little more force, and your hips twisted to one side.

"Five—!"

But before you could adjust or reposition, Sylus shifted.

His knee came down over the back of your thigh, pinning your leg to the bed with unwavering pressure.

You froze, your entire body tensing beneath him.

"Start adding more things if you're gonna keep moving," he said, his voice a smooth, unbothered murmur. Not cruel. Not angry. But absolute.

The tone left no room for protest. Not from you.

"N-no, I won't move anymore, I promise..."

You swallowed hard, breath shuddering as you nodded without turning to look at him.

"S-six," you whispered, barely able to get the word out before the next hit made your legs twitch under the restraint of his knee.

The seventh landed with precision, and your voice cracked again. "Seven."

By the eighth, your body was trembling. Sweat dotted your lower back and your lips parted with a soft, desperate sound before you remembered to count. "Eight..."

The ninth and tenth came one after the other, timed and even, and you were almost too breathless to speak. Your chest heaved beneath you, and you had to close your eyes just to stay focused.

"Nine. Ten."

You were shaking all over now, a cocktail of pain, adrenaline, and something else you didn’t want to name twisting deep in your stomach. Your thoughts were a blur, your hands clenched around the sheets, your throat dry from trying to keep your voice steady.

But you were still counting.

Still obeying.

By the twelfth hit, you couldn’t take it anymore. The pain had gone from a sharp sting to a deep, burning ache that pulsed with every heartbeat. You buried your face into the pillow, sobbing openly now, the kind of messy, desperate crying that came from somewhere deeper than just your skin. Every part of you was trembling—your arms, your legs, your breath hitching violently as you tried to force your voice to keep counting.

Each strike felt heavier than the last, like Sylus knew just how close you were to breaking. And maybe he did. Maybe that was the point.

But you didn’t stop.

You couldn’t.

"Fourteen..." you choked, your voice hoarse, muffled by the pillow soaked with your tears.

You curled your fingers into the sheets, gripping them like they were the only thing anchoring you to reality. Your thighs burned, your back ached, and your skin felt hot everywhere he’d touched.

"Fifteen..." you whimpered, your whole body jolting at the next hit.

You tried to shift, to escape, just slightly—but the weight of his knee still pinned you down, reminding you that you weren’t going anywhere.

You gasped, eyes squeezed shut, the tears blurring everything.

"Seventeen..."

The numbers were slipping from your lips in broken sobs now, each one harder to say than the last. You didn’t know if he noticed how your breath was catching or how your voice kept cracking—but even if he did, he said nothing.

The silence was maddening.

And then finally, after what felt like an eternity—longer than you thought you could bear—the last strike landed.

"Twenty," you whispered, so faint you weren’t even sure it counted. Your voice was shredded, raw from crying, from counting, from enduring.

But it was done.

You clung to the pillow like a lifeline, tears still trailing down your cheeks as your lungs struggled to draw in a steady breath. Everything buzzed—your skin, your mind, the space between your thoughts.

And somewhere in the center of all that pain and exhaustion, a quiet pride stirred.

You had taken it all.

Every single one.

You held your breath, every muscle tense, waiting—until finally, the sound came.

Thud.

The belt hit the floor.

You let out a broken, shaky sob as relief rushed through you. It was over. The sharp sting, the counting, the pressure—done. The moment that sound registered, your body sagged into the mattress, the tension melting into a full-bodied, uncontrollable release. Tears spilled freely again, this time not from pain, but from the emotional flood that followed. You clutched the pillow beneath you even harder, burying your face into it as your shoulders trembled.

Sylus was gentle now, a complete contrast to the measured harshness he had displayed just moments before. He didn’t rush. His movements were calm, controlled, like he was shifting into a different role entirely. Slowly, carefully, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing your arm first as if to check if you could handle touch again. When you didn’t flinch, he slipped his arms around you and helped guide you onto your side.

Every shift of your sore backside made you wince, but there was no sharpness in his handling. Only softness. You whimpered softly at the movement, your skin raw and burning beneath the thin fabric of your slip. Still, when he pulled you against his chest, you didn’t resist. You melted into him like he was the only steady thing left in the room.

He began to rub slow, soothing circles into your thighs and butt, his fingers featherlight as they traced the reddened skin. He was so careful—almost reverent. The heat of his palms chased the sting from each mark he’d left, easing the tension in your muscles. Your sobs came slower now, quieter, as his touch steadied you.

He held you close, his breath warm and steady against your ear as he leaned in, his voice low and soft.

"Shh, shh…I know it hurts," he murmured, the tenderness in his tone wrapping around you like a blanket. His lips pressed soft kisses across your damp cheeks, your temple, your jaw. "You did such a good job, sweetie. I’m so proud of you."

You blinked through the blur of tears, your lashes sticky and your throat sore from crying. But his words—his praise—poured warmth into your chest. You felt it curl deep inside you, soothing something raw and aching. It didn’t erase the pain, but it dulled the edge of it, made it feel worth enduring.

You turned your face into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. Leather. Clean linen. A trace of cologne. It grounded you. You clung to him, needing his presence, his calm. And when his hand continued to stroke your hair and rub gentle circles on your back, your breathing began to slow.

And slowly—finally—you allowed yourself to relax.

The worst had passed. The storm of sensation had come and gone, and you had weathered it.

The mattress shifted softly as Sylus adjusted beside you, his hands still warm against your skin. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he moved closer, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. You held your breath for a moment, your pulse quickening at the way his fingers brushed the soft fabric of your slip, teasing the edge of it without hurry.

Then, ever so slowly, he began to trace the outline of your body, his fingers dipping lower, circling the curve of your hips before edging closer to the juncture of your thighs. His touch was featherlight, almost teasing, as he explored the outer edges of your most intimate flesh. You whimpered softly, the sound muffled against his chest, as his fingers danced just beyond the line of your core, deliberately staying on the outside of your pussy.

As his fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration, he leaned in close, his voice low and soothing as he whispered against your ear.

“You want to feel good now?” His words were a soft, inviting question, a gentle coax that sent a shiver down your spine. “You must've enjoyed that a little too much. You're soaked, kitten.”

Your eyelids fluttered, and you tilted your head slightly, subconsciously seeking more of his touch. His fingers slowed their motion, almost as though he were savoring the moment, before finally pressing just a little closer, brushing the swollen flesh of your clit with the lightest of pressures. You sucked in a breath, your hips instinctively shifting slightly beneath him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

Still, he held back, his fingers circling just around the edges of your core, coaxing a low, needy sound from you before slowly dipping lower, teasing the entrance to your pussy with a gentle pressure. “Oh,” you whispered, your voice tinged with both longing and relief,

“Please.”

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hip before slowly deepening his touch, his fingers finally brushing against the slick, sensitive folds of your cunt. You twitched slightly against him, your hands instinctively clutching at the sheets as the waves of pleasure began to build within you. But he moved with care, his touch both tender and deliberate, as though he were discovering every inch of you for the first time.

As his fingers worked their way deeper into your wet walls, your moans grew louder, more uninhibited, the sound of your pleasure filling the room. He hummed softly in response, his voice a low vibration against your ear as he praised you with quiet endearments, coaxing you further into the pleasure he was building within you.

You lay there, your body bathed in a wave of sensations as Sylus’s fingers moved inside you, each thrust echoing with a precision that left you gasping for air. At first, it was gentle, a slow, teasing rhythm that coaxed a moan from your lips. Then, as the pressure increased, his fingers curved just right, hitting the sweet spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, your nails digging into the sheets as you fought to hold onto control.

“You’re about to cum already?” he whispered, his voice low and triumphant. You could feel his smirk against your skin as he pressed harder, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit with skillful precision. “You want it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling. “Please, I’m about to—”

He pulled back just enough to make you whimper in frustration, his fingers hovering just at the edge of withdrawal before thrusting back in with renewed force. “Tell me how sorry you are,” he demanded, his voice a mixture of dominance and affection that made your heart race. “Beg me, sweetie.”

At first you froze, feeling heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment, but when he fully began to pull his fingers away all reason flew out of your mind.

You were so close.

The words tumbled out of you before you could stop them, a desperate, breathless plea that echoed the raw emotion in your chest. “I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!”

He chuckled, the sound a low, gravelly vibration that sent shivers down your spine. “Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers finding that spot again, the pressure building to a point where you could barely think straight.

“Yes,” you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as the aching burn in your core was tipping to its breaking point. “Please—just let me—”

But before you could finish the sentence, he pulled his fingers out entirely, leaving you trembling and unsatisfied, gasping for air as though you’d been deprived of oxygen. The abrupt withdrawal was almost as intense as the climax you’d been on the brink of, a cruel twist that left you feeling both frustrated and conflicted.

You turned to face him, your voice shaking with a mix of shock and disbelief. “W-what? I was right there! I did what you asked!”

He met your gaze steadily, his expression soft but unyielding. His eyes didn’t carry malice—there was no fire, no wrath—just a firm, patient certainty that made your skin prickle and your breath catch in your throat. The kind of quiet control that left no room for bargaining.

“I never said I'd let you even if you begged,” he said, the words rolling from his tongue in a tone so calm it only made the weight of them settle heavier in your chest. It was gentle, yes, but it carried the undeniable finality of someone who’d already made up their mind. "Did you honestly think I’d let you finish after a stunt like that?”

The way he said it, like he was almost surprised by your audacity, twisted your stomach. Not furious. Just disappointed. And that somehow hurt worse.

His tone didn’t rise. It never did. But that only made it worse—the fact that he could cut through your resistance with something as simple as stillness. The gravity in his voice hit harder than any belt, any reprimand. It made your throat tighten, your thoughts spin.

You were in shock.

Your body was still trembling, the aftershocks of denied ecstasy crashing through your nerves like static. You felt strung out, your limbs heavy, your skin flushed and oversensitive. Your muscles still twitched with that last wave of almost-release that had been ripped from you too soon.

It had been there. Right there. You had been on the edge—dangling. And he had pulled you back with terrifying precision.

No release.

No relief.

Just silence. And now, this still, crushing reminder of who held the reins.

Tears gathered in your lashes, fat and hot. You blinked rapidly, your lips trembling as you lifted your gaze to him. Your voice cracked as you spoke, brittle and hoarse from all the cries that had come before.

“P-please…” you whispered, reaching for him with fingers that barely had the strength to curl. “I said I was sorry. Sylus, please...”

Your voice broke halfway through his name, and the desperation behind it made your chest ache.

"Shh. Don’t whine," he murmured, his voice low and even, the kind of calm that wrapped around you like a heavy blanket—firm, enveloping, unshakable.

You hiccupped softly, your body still twitching with the lingering aftershocks, shivering from unsatisfaction, exhaustion, and the quiet vulnerability that always came after something so intense. Your limbs felt heavy and loose, barely responding as you shifted weakly against the sheets. Tears clung to your lashes, your cheeks damp and flushed. You let out a small, broken protest, the sound almost childish in its fragility.

But Sylus didn’t pause. He moved with deliberate care, like he’d done this a hundred times, like every movement was etched into him. Without saying another word, he crossed the room, retrieved a warm cloth, and returned to your side. You barely registered the soft sound of water dripping onto the towel or the way the mattress dipped as he sat beside you again.

The first touch made you flinch despite yourself. The cloth dragged over your sensitive, slightly bruised skin with a heat that was both soothing and startling. You whimpered, your hips twitching away on instinct, but he didn’t scold you. He simply placed a hand gently on your back, the silent reminder enough to still you.

"Starting today, until all your packages arrive," he continued, his tone calm yet authoritative, "I'm still going to kiss you, touch you, make you feel good. But you can't cum." His fingers paused for a moment, the weight of his words settling between you. "If you do cum before you have my permission, this whole process starts over, including the belt. No masturbating either. I'll know. Understood?"

The simple act of him speaking while wiping between your legs sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as you nodded, the gravity of his words sinking in. You felt the tension in your body, the way your muscles clenched involuntarily at the mere thought of being so close to climax only to have it taken away.

"Yes, Sy..." you whispered, voice cracking as it escaped your lips. You wanted to be mad. You wanted to scream, to shove at his chest, to demand why he was always one step ahead—but you couldn’t. The exhaustion in your limbs, the ache deep in your chest, and the rawness still lingering on your skin left you too hollow, too wrung out to fight. All that fire had dissolved into a pitiful, quiet ache, leaking from your eyes in soft, steady tears.

All you could do was cry. You had brought this on yourself.

Sylus didn’t say anything. He didn’t gloat or taunt. He just kept tending to you with that same deliberate, practiced care. His movements were slow, methodical, gentle in ways that made your chest ache even more. When he was done, he discarded the damp cloth and reached for you again, easing the rumpled slip dress over your head. The fabric peeled away from your flushed skin, clinging slightly before sliding off, leaving you cold, exposed, and vulnerable.

You whimpered, the sound soft and unsure, but he was already moving with purpose. He retrieved one of his shirts—oversized, warm, smelling of him—and a fresh pair of underwear. With all the patience in the world, he dressed you like you were something fragile, helping you into the shirt and smoothing it down, adjusting the sleeves and gently guiding your legs into the underwear. The motions were intimate, familiar, but not rushed. As though this was part of the ritual. As though he’d already known this was how the night would end.

Then he slipped away into the bathroom for a moment, and you lay there quietly, the bedsheets cool beneath you, your limbs too heavy to move. The room felt softer now, dim and hushed, like the storm had passed. Your eyes fluttered closed, though sleep didn’t come. Just more tears.

When Sylus returned, the mattress dipped beside you. He settled in close, his warmth immediately surrounding you, and without a word, he reached over and began wiping the fresh tears from your face. His thumb brushed slowly under each eye, lingering at your cheekbones, soft and unrelenting. You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry, your body aching in more ways than one.

He didn’t need to say anything. His touch said it for him: I still love you. I’m still here.

Then he picked up your phone from the nightstand, unlocking it like it was second nature. You peeked at him from the crook of your arm, face still pressed into his chest, and listened to the familiar taps as he scrolled.

Probably checking the damage, you thought bitterly.

Then came the chuckle. Soft. Low. Amused.

"Oh, sucks for you. One of these is on preorder," he said, tone light, like he wasn’t the reason you were too emotionally wrecked to argue. "Won’t get here for a few weeks. What a shame."

You groaned into his chest, letting your body sag against him like you were boneless. You didn’t need to look up to see the smug grin on his face—you could feel it in the rumble of his chest, the way his fingers casually stroked your back like you were some satisfied little cat.

He had won. Again.

There was no fighting it. No regaining the upper hand. Not now. Not when he’d read you like a book and written the ending before you even knew the chapter had started.

And now, one of the pieces you were most excited for was going to take weeks to arrive.

It was going to be a very, very long few weeks.

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shariasweet · 8 months ago

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ angel girl

_._____ 𝒙 f.reader

wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: contains dumbification and some other stuff! unprotected sex as well as mirror sex… also pet names (SLIGHT daddy kink… im so sorry) and overstimulation + squirting and maybs a little roughness. this isn’t proofread grrr :(

[porn no plot] just your boyfriend fucking you dumb and making you squirt 👻

'dumb baby...' your boyfriend relentlessly fucked into you from behind — his breath hot and fanning against you neck, fueling to the fire that was your arousal.

the mirror in front of you was just as foggy as your brain — your eyes clouded, and rolled back as you babbled incoherently. 'mmm...' a soft groan fell bubbling from between your lips.

'you're drooling everywhere, sweet girl...’ your boyfriend’s rough thrusts coming to a slow halt as his hands snaked around your body. ‘here… give daddy your chin, sweetheart.' his long slender fingers came crawling between the valley of your breasts and past your neck to firmly grip you cheeks.

'look at you, sweetheart. so, so pretty.' as he forced your face up and out of the sheets his lips met your own in a sloppy wet kiss — one filled with passion and desire. once more, his hips forcefully slammed against your ass — red from the friction as he buried himself deep within your sopping cunt.

'good girl...' his hand groped the swell of your breasts. as you were overwhelmed with pleasure, you could feel yourself slipping away. what you’d assumed to be your third, maybe fourth orgasm crept up on you. 'aht aht...’ he tutted in your ear. ‘want you to look... watch it, pretty girl.'

you could feel him roughly repositioning your face yet again to stare into your reflection.

he trailed kisses along your neck, chuckling warmly as he saw your eyes snap open in awe at the scene before you: your thighs littered in hickeys your lips puffy and swollen and your whole body quivering in absolute bliss.

'ah! s'too much... s'so deep!' you squirmed. he pressed on the bulge poking out from your lower abdomen. 'too deep? m'only right here... how about this?' harder. deeper. you suddenly hit the mattress, his grip on your waist faltering as he fucked into you with even more dedication... slamming you down and splitting you open for the umpteenth time on his cock... he continued bullying himself cozily into your cunt as he drilled further, and further within you velvety wet walls. ‘ffuck… always so tight aren’t you, baby?’

'ahw fuck, fuck mh!' gasping, your fingers knotted up in the sheets as you moaned uncontrollably… back arching far into the bed before he lifted you up yet again — his tip practically kissing your cervix.

‘shit! w-wait…’ the knot in your stomach began to wrap itself up. waves of pleasure threatening to fall and crash over you if he continued — which he did.

it only took a few more thrusts — each drag of his cock soothing your high as you’d finally came.

sharp thrust after sharp thrust… you took note of how he carefully overstimulated you. harshly rubbing your clit even after your orgasm. ‘shit! a-already… fuck… I already came.’ you pout, whining. ‘I know, just hold on, baby… need one more thing from you.’

‘unghhh!’ the male had lifted you up once more… your reflection not your own as you appeared completely ruined. ‘how’s it feel hm?’ your sore core ached — burning hot as you cried, leaning into his neck. ‘don’t hide.’

‘feels like im ‘gonna pee…’ you mumbled beneath your breath. he nodded. ‘good girl, let go f’me.’

another knot came forming in your tummy…

‘w-wait! ohmygodohmygod..!’ and clear liquid shot from between you legs. drenching the sheets and you and your boyfriend's thighs.

the two of you breathed heavily collapsing onto one another as he kissed your forehead. ‘angel girl…’ he purred. ‘did so good for me yeah?’

lee heuseng: yang jungwon: choi soobin: kang taehyun: jeong yunho: choi san: taesan: leehan: park gunwook: suh johnny: lee jeno: whoever else your little heart desires 🤍

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tsuyalovebot · 5 months ago

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watch you entertain.

pairing: xia yi zhou / caleb x reader (love and deepspace)

synopsis: caleb comes to a few conclusions when you give him a blowjob for the first time.

cw: NSFW and explicit sexual content, mdni. established relationship. mentions of intercourse. oral sex (blowjob). mentions of reader receiving oral sex. hair pulling. imaginative violence (not to reader). petnames (pretty, pipsqueak). mention of oral sex (receiving). he slaps his dick on your face (not sorry). mention of spanking and watching porn. caleb-typical warnings.

wc: 1.7k (drabble....ish????)

author's note: i can't defend myself since 90% of this is word vomit. i'm working on another caleb piece right now, but i needed to get this out of my system. think of it as a precursor piece, like an hors d'oeuvres. also, please disregard any typos. (— - —)|||

The first time Caleb felt your lips on his was magical. The second, third, fourth, and succeeding times were all but surreal.

He had all but convinced himself that your mouth, pressed to his in a flurry of tender touches or desirous cravings, was something he conjured up in the blurry moments of his delusions. You always manage to kiss them away, though.

Later on, you admitted that he was your first kiss.

"When I visited you after you moved out," you said. Hands wrung, your gaze averted downward as you were perched on his lap one evening.

He knows what you're talking about. Remembers its vividness with a startling clarity that would have embarrassed him otherwise, if you didn't share the same sentiments.

By now, you've already kissed and made out in the intimacy of his place beyond finite counting. Had sex with him on whatever surface the two of you could get your hands on. You've long since spoiled him with your presence, both physical and mental. There's a key tucked away in his headspace with your name engraved into the metal. Magnetic and the signification of a special place for you in his heart.

He spoiled you, and now, you spoil him. Neither of you complain about this mutually beneficial arrangement. Why would you?

Though, he can't say he's exactly pleased at the current moment.

"That's it, mmm. You're being so sweet today."

He's watching you, as he always is. You're on your knees before him—you insisted, said it added to the atmosphere despite his crows of indignance at the possibility of them bruising—and your mouth impossibly full of his cock.

You're bare before him, towel discarded on the coffee table with your body damp and he's barely presentable in his uniform. Disheveled and pants undone, he wasn't sure if he was exactly living up to the honorable nature of the clothes he donned. He tried to undress, but you'd been pawing at him the second he walked through the doorstep in nothing but one of the towels he bought you, so his resistance was doomed from the start.

His arms spread on the top of the couch, he tilts his head back and sighs slowly. Hot breath escapes him in time with his Adam's apple bobbing, swallowing a heavy moan that threatens to break free. It takes him a few moments before he peers at your kneeling form once more.

One of his hands cups your cheek, the cool leather swiping over your cheekbone and pushing some of your hair back. Rapt attention on you, whispering soft words of, "that's how you do it" and "a biiit wider, pipsqueak— yeah, like that" with so much appreciation in his tone. Because that's what he feels toward you right now; so much appreciation in his heart belongs to you.

Your tongue was doing sinful licks along the underside of his cock's curve, the girth hefty in your two hands, and your eyes stayed closed in a quiet pleasure. It's expertly done, and the creation of human response as you wrap those pretty pink lips around the tip of him and suckle on it, strings of your saliva leaving sticky wefts along the shaft.

Alternating between peppering his length in kisses and taking a couple inches into your mouth, he's fighting for his fucking life trying to not bust a nut. He's sort of ashamed to have dreamt of this moment for years. You would never let him live it down.

As if the deities couldn't get enough of his suffering, his mind had made the fatal mistake of noting the visible difference of the size of him and your hands and your mouth. It gets him going, that stark contrast and how gently you were treating him.

It's a sight reserved for his eyes alone. Something he wants to pocket and immortalize because it's his and only his. That's the only reason for the powerful plethora of emotions boiling over in his gut. Truly, the only reason.

That's what he tells himself as he observes you with a progressively darkening, clinical, dead-eyed stare that you weren't aware of. A little voice in him nagging at his conscience, spitting words of venom that feeds into the slowly, slowly expanding green-eyed monster rising onto its feet.

"I got a question for you, pretty," he says calmly, deceptively so. Making sure to sound as casual as possible, his gloved hand coming to stroke over your damp, silky hair. You really just couldn't wait to please him, immediately pawing at him when he arrived home and you were fresh out the bath.

You murmur something in reply, lips suctioned to his shaft. Those gorgeous eyes, ones that beheld him with such reverence and adoration in round shape flicker up to his. The vibrations and sight hit him like a freight train and he groans, low and deep. He lets the pleasure settle into his bones.

"You have to answer honestly, 'kay?" He croons down at you, assuring. His facial expression had finally relaxed from its initial, contemplative one. You're happy with this, he notes as you eagerly bob your head, careful to remain quiet.

Good. It'll make hearing your voice all the more worth it. When you said he was your first kiss, he was beyond ecstatic.

Hopefully, you can echo the same thing now.

With an easygoing air betraying that of his positively threatening smile, he asks, "Where'd you learn how to do this?"

There's a sick sense of pleasure in watching you process his words a second too lats. Because you're such an open book with him, aren't you? The way your eyes widen and your lips halt, as if your heart stopped even beating. Even if makes his own blackened heart speed up, its thudding resembling a rabbit's stomping.

Your blinks were a linguistic of their own, and he was the expert in unraveling the lexicology of your existence.

You don't answer fast enough. Or, you don't answer at all. Because now, you're staring him like a child chastised for having their hand in a candy jar—where they weren't supposed to be.

Unfortunately for you, that was more than telling for him.

Caleb doesn't speak. The air is several degrees colder now, like the air circulation was suddenlt cut off, and he drinks in the way anticipation tenses your muscles and your uneven breaths smooth over his skin when you pop your lips off his cock. Those sinful lips that he stole away as his were now glistening in a mix of your spittle and his pre-cum.

He could almost forgive you right now. But, you make the crucial mistake of looking away from him.

"Oh?" It's inquisitive—his tone, yet it has the power of a knife being drawn.

The hand on your head loses its comforting, encouraging air and instead becomes a weight.

A threat.

The visual that's formulating in his head isn't a pleasant one. An image of stained glass shards, blurry yet clear in the vision of you on your knees for another guy. The scattered light capturing your mouth wrapped around the faceless stranger, servicing him the same way you're handling Caleb, seeking that same, sickly sweet tang of validation.

Could it have been that Xavier guy he sees on your phone notifications from time to time? Or is it someone closer to you, from your Association? There's a chance someone else from your childhood reached out to you, maybe after his disappearance. Did they hold you in ways he's been craving to hold you for years?

That's not fair, now, is it? He's worn your hairtie around his wrist for years, disregarded countless scribbled love letters from bystanders, based his little trinkets around those apples you love so much, and spoiled you countless times in his misplaced desire for playing the role of your protector. It simply isn't fair that you sought gratification from a source that wasn't him—because for him, it was always you.

Is it too selfish of him to want your everything?

You don't say anything even as your mouth opens and closes. You're either searching for an excuse, weighing the costs of lying to him at the moment, or you're genuinely floundering for words at the sudden blankness in your head.

He hums again, and it's lower than before. Full of thought and contemplation as his amethyst eyes bore holes into your speechless state. It's full of disappointment and he sees the worry creep into your eyes like a leaking faucet.

Threading his gloved fingers into the tresses of your hair, its smooth leather massaging your scalp, his face softens.

"I guess I did say you should be honest, not fast," he murmurs, laughing to himself quietly.

His lips tilt into a boyish sort of grin, and it's so full of mirth and entertainment that it's easy to process as him diffusing the situation. It works like so, and you're soon tilting your head into his palm and seeking his touch.

In the distance, the kettle in the kitchen screeches like an alarm of what's to come.

Disconcertingly relaxed, his smile seems absolutely sarcastic. A bit sharp at the edges.

"I should make it easier to understand. Let me rephrase it, then."

He pulls your hair. It's one harsh motion and it jerks your head up. A gasp torn from your lips as they fall open, the slight sting shooting through your body with an charged breeze.

"Who did you learn this from?"

He's so used to tasting you before fucking; your sex and his tongue are practically best friends in his eyes. It never once occurred to him to have you suck him off.

He should've been suspicious the second you offered to begin with.

The blood drains from your face some more and he relishes the blank yet alert state your eyes reflect. He's sure your mind is in disarray right now. The feeling is mutual, though you're aware of that too, most likely.

"I have a right to know. I always said that you could come to me if you needed help with anything, right?" It's a rhetorical question. You both know that. You're doomed either way.

You make another breathless noise, and he wants to explore your vocality. Now, how would you sound gagging on him?

"Caleb—"

He shushes you softly and you quiet down in an instant.

"I don't need an answer that isn't related to my question, don't you agree?"

Another rhetorical question as he cocks his head, the gesture mocking.

"You're always tellin' me to be honest and share my thoughts with you. I'm bein' honest now. Everything should be mutual, so, answer my question. I might even go easy on you."

You're totally panicking now, aren't you?

His other hand wraps around the base of his cock and he slaps the shaft onto your cheek, then smearing his leaking tip over your glistening lips, a thoughtful smile playing on his own as if he were offering you candy.

"And depending on how you answer, I'm either taking you over my knee while you spell their name out, or you'll be showing me exactly what pornos you've been watching without my knowledge. So, what's it gonna be?"

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vampzity · 4 months ago

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1-800-hot & fun | BC

★ DAY TWELVE: PHONE SEX WITH BANGCHAN ★

pairing: best friend! bangchan x f! reader

after a long day of studio work, bangchan just wants to relax. except all he can think about is you. he tries to take care of it, only to get a call from you with complaints about the day you had. little did you know how much your voice turned him on.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, smut, drabble, phone sex, masturbation, mentioning of circulation play, reader has no idea what chan’s doing, pet names (baby, babygirl)

word count: 1.4k

Bangchan sighed to himself as he leaned back in his chair, head thrown back with his eyes closed. He held his throbbing cock in his hand, jerking it softly as he scrolled through the countless photos he had of you.

They weren’t anything lewd, in fact it was far from that. Simply normal selfies you took and sent to him for his opinion on which to post.

He was beyond exhausted from today’s work in the studio, just wanting to wind down a bit before he took to the road. Though his mind was racing with sensual thoughts of you and it wouldn’t stop.

You two weren’t together— in fact he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, but he knew one thing for sure. Bangchan had the biggest crush on you, he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wasn’t sure if he was being obvious about it, though one may say so with how possessive he was about you when the rest of the boys were around.

He scrolled through every photo of you, landing on a couple of pictures from your modeling gig. You had on light pink lingerie, lace that sat nicely upon your curves. The positions the camera caught you in were vulnerable, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It was everything he imagined you to be.

Innocent and sexy.

Your doe eyes stared into his as he worked his angry cock, groaning at the thought of your plump lips around his tip. The way it would feel for you to suck him off as cum leaked out of him. How well he would train you to take his size into your mouth, the tears that would run down your cheek from his tip hitting the back of your throat.

He scrolled to the side, seeing a close up of your body in the lace outside. His eyes widened, heart racing as your tits sat nicely in the cupped bra, your cunt making a small pint in the fabric. The way the babydoll casted a slight shadow of your silhouette.

Bangchan was practically in heaven, his hand fastening its pace around his cock. He could feel himself about to burst at any moment, until he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Startled he quickly shoved his member into his pants and answered, clearing his throat to mask his previous situation.

“Hello?”

“Channie! You wouldn’t believe the type of day I’ve been having.”

Chan smiled at hearing your voice, as it’s been a while since you two have talked at all from your mix of busy schedules.

“Hey babygirl, what’s up?”

You scoffed on your side of the phone, rolling your eyes at his personal nickname for you.

“Well I got to the studio for my modeling gig and my coffee just fell!! It tasted perfect too like how upsetting is that,”

He listened to you ramble on, feeling his dick twitch in his pants as his mind started to race with thoughts of you once again. He thought about you in different types of lingerie, imagining how nicely your body must fit into them this time around.

He pulled his member from his pants, his tip leaking as it ached to be touched. He stroked it softly, throwing his head back in pleasure as he tried his best not to be heard.

“And if that wasn’t enough, my makeup is so splotchy. I think i’ll have to redo it too!”

Bangchan tightened his grip on his cock, fastening his strokes as he listened to your complaining whines. He tried his best to focus to what you were saying, but his mind was fogged with dirty thoughts of you. Dirty thoughts of you all over him, of him ripping that little lingerie off of you.

“Mmm, I’m sorry to hear that baby.”

A soft moan escaped him, making him freeze up in hopes that you didn’t hear him.

“Everything ok, Channie? Was it a rough day in the studio?”

He chuckled to himself slightly, his thumb rubbing across his leaky opening. He began stroking his cock again, twisting his hand with the motion.

“Yeah, yeah.” he panted heavily, watching as his cock leaked some more. “But hearing your voice made it better.”

You blushed softly, taking your phone and posing in the mirror. You took a picture of today’s outfit— one of many that you’d be wearing and sent it to Bangchan, eager for his reaction.

“What do you think? Too slutty?”

His jaw practically dropped at seeing you. His ears grew red, feeling as if the room was heating up from seeing you in such an outfit. The black polkadots weren’t nearly enough to cover how see through it was as your nipples still peeked through.

Bangchan stopped himself from groaning outloud, struggling to keep his composure toward you.

“You look beautiful as always.” He leaned over his desk, spotting your hair tie next to his computer.

He grabbed it, closing his eyes as he vowed to never give it back to you again. Especially not after what he was about to do. He placed the hair tie on his cock, a long sigh leaving his lips as it tightened around his length.

“Should model for me, yeah?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” you raised your eyebrow, unaware of what he meant. Chan quickly caught himself, trying to cover up the sultry meaning behind his sentence.

“My company, I mean you should model for my company.”

You laughed, going on a tangent about all the things wrong with his entertainment. As much as he’d like to listen, he just couldn’t. He was too drunk on the thought of you and your body in this newfound picture. Your pussy barely covertly the small piece of fabric, your tits practically spilling out of your bra.

He stroked faster, quicker, not stopping his movement as his cock throbbed in his hand. With every throb, every time it tried to swell, he could feel himself getting closer as your hair tie held him back.

And of course, you were still as oblivious to what was going on.

Bangchan quickly muted himself, setting his phone down as he groaned out in pleasure. His precum drooled down the side of his cock as he thrusted into his hand.

“Fuck, fuck baby.” he admired your picture once more before throwing his head back.

“Gotta cum all over that pretty face of yours one day.”

His groans soon fell into whimpers as he stroked faster. Your hair tie was suffocating him, making it harder for him to hold himself back. He imagined you in his head; thinking of you riding his cock while your tits bounced in front of his eyes.

He imagined how it would feel for your cunt to suffocate his dick in the same way while it pounded your sweet spot. He wondered how your sweet sounds would be, how much you’d beg as his tongue toyed with your swollen clit.

“Fuck, I would stuff you so good.”

That was all it took.

Within seconds his hand was covered in cum, dripping onto the chair as he slowed his strokes. His breath was staggered, heart racing and shaking ad he tried to bring himself back to reality.

“Channie?”

Oh fuck.

He quickly cleaned himself off, picking up the phone to answer you.

“I’m sorry.. I was trying to focus on this track we’ve been working on.”

He heard a small laugh come from the other end of the phone, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he tried to figure out what you could be laughing for.

“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t notice you were unmuted either, huh?”

His heart sank and his face flushed red. He froze, unsure of what to say to you as he was beyond embarrassed. You had no idea— maybe not even a thought of Bangchan ever liking you, as you always thought he’d seen you as a close friend.

Funny, since he had thought the same.

“You don’t have to apologize Channie.” you looked at the time on your phone, realizing you had to start your shoot soon.

“Maybe when I’m done here,” You bit your lip, thinking of the lewd sounds you heard coming from his end of the phone.

“I can stop by your place and give you what you want.”

Bangchan instantly agreed, his cock itching at the thought of being able to feel you, be in you. You giggled, sending him a farewell and hanging up the phone. His phone lit up with the precious picture of you in your lingerie, a small smile creeping onto his face.

He was about to see you dressed like this in person, right before his eyes and it would take everything in him not to rip it off of you.

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: day 12, this is a short one! if you haven’t noticed a change in the masterlist…. i’m planning some bonus days as a thank you to those who showed so much support to my series! :3

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @tiredlittlevirgo @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @evidive @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @bluesungology @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s valentines #—♡︎vamp’s hard hours #stray kids #bangchan #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #stray kids smut #skz au #skz smut #skz bangchan #bangchan smut

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hoonieyun · 5 months ago

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so lovey dovey

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader genre: fluff and romance warnings: consensual skinship, drunk!jake, kissing, kinda suggestive, 18+ inspired by jake's live where he says "when i'm drunk i become lovely & cute" as if he isnt always lovely and cute >_<

hoonieyun notes: some fluff because why nawt.. im slowly amping all of the angst in the up coming fics for february so i'm making up for it now by posting a few fluff and romance drabbles :3

wc: 1037

jake was sprawled across your couch as he takes occassional sips from his glass of beer. it wasn’t often that jake drank but tonight he invited the guys over for game night and that usually entails drinks and a bunch of food. you didn’t mind doing your own thing on the side as you lounged in the comfort of your bedroom, every now and then making an appearance to make sure everyone was good and not fighting for losing or winning or even stealing some of the food for yourself.

and that’s what you were about to do right now. you had just finished your small bowl of tteokbeokki and it certainly wasn’t enough so you decided to grab some more. you walk out of you and jake’s shared bedroom and find the group of guys arguing over mario kart.

jungwon claiming that niki cheated, jay not paying attention to the argument because he came in 1st place, and jake who was already staring at your figure standing in the hall.

“hi, baby” he says, drawing out the last part of the petname.

“hi, jakey. i just want some more food.” you chirp as you approach and he instantly takes your bowl to fill it with more food. “you sure you don’t wanna come join us?” he asks, handing you back your bowl.

“mmm…” you ponder, looking over to niki and jungwon who are still arguing and sunoo who was having too much fun laughing at the two younger guys bicker. before you could even answer, jake is pulling you into his lap and whispering into your ear, “please, stay.” he says. his breath was low and warm and it sent tickles down your back. you nod in agreement and his smile widens at your response.

jake loved having you around at all times, even when you two weren’t necessarily doing anything, he just loved having you near him.

the guys often teased him that he was too whipped or down bad for you and jake would just brush it off. of course he was down bad for you, every man should be down bad for his girlfriend, if he wasn’t then he was doing something wrong.

you silently eat your food as the games continue, heeseung using his eldest privileges to change the game to which jungwon groaned as he wanted another chance at mario kart.

you weren’t sure what game they were playing but they all took turns passing the controller around to kill monsters and what not. and when it came to jake’s turn, the guys would groan in annoyance after jake causes them to die and lose the game.

all of them turned their attention to jake who was too busy staring at you eating your tteokbeokki to pay any mind to the game they were playing.

“dude, you just let us die!”

“earth to jake?”

“hellooo?”

they all tried to get his attention but he was too immersed in you to notice. eyes sparkling as he watches you fondly and lovingly. a cute habit of his whenever he got drunk or even the slightest bit tipsy.

he would get very cute and lovely and wouldn’t be able to get you out of his head as if you weren’t always occupying his mind.

“jakey, the guys are talking to you..” you say, blinking a few times at him and his smile widens when he hears your voice.

jake doesn’t even glance over to the guys, he just sloppily passes the remote to one of them in which sunghoon catches it and continues the game after jake has caused their character to die. jake had you in his lap, gently rubbing your thighs as he rests his head on your back. humming occassionally whenever you leaned closer into his touch.

“can you ask them to leave.. i wanna be alone with you.” he whispers into your ear.

“why can’t you do it..” you whisper back and he explains that if you tell everyone to go home they’ll listen because you’re a girl but if he does it they’ll all just ignore him and want to continue game night. you think about it for a second and he’s absolutely right. so you give him a nod and a small kiss on the forehead to which jake gets flustered and shy over, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he blushes at your actions.

you decide to stand up and do an exaggerated yawn, “gosh, i’m exhausted, what time is it?” you say, looking over to the clock on the wall and just like that– the guys take the hint and start packing up all of the things. they each help with putting things in the kitchen to throw away or to be washed and soon enough they were all saying their goodbyes and filing out of your shared apartment with jake.

“finally.. i can have you all to myself.” jake says, a pout on his lips as he pulls you into a hug. he brings the two of you to your bedroom, not letting go of you once. you try to get out of his grasp but he begins to whine and pout, “relax, jaeyunnie. i’m just turning off the lights.” you say and he jumps up from his spot on the bed, running over to the lightswitch and flicking it off before running back to bed and cuddling up to you.

he nuzzles his head on your shoulder as the two of you cozy up to one another, placing several kisses on your neck and cheek. “i wanna stay like this forever.” he says. you just love whenever he gets like this, so cute and lovey dovey. his ears and cheeks a shade of red from the alcohol and his need to express how much he loved you and loved being near you.

“goodnight jakey..” you say, waiting for him to say it back but you’re met with the sound of his snores, causing you to chuckle, pulling your phone out and snapping a photo of how cute he looked while sleeping, ears still red and his face slightly buried in the crook of your neck.

jake, your cute and lovey dovey boyfriend.

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

#kiki diaries #enhypen #en-diaries #kpop #kpop au #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #enha #fanfiction #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake x reader

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brnd3y · 6 months ago

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NEW POST FROM @munybagd

his prize possession ! idk what this really is yall… it’s a drabble ig …

His favorite kind of girls were the lonely ones who sat alone at the bars while their friends danced around with other men, gosh he could go for those all day - taking them to his home and molding them into his personal 'good little girls' before slowly getting tired of them and throwing them out. But the day he found you he just couldn't throw you out.. he wanted to keep you. You were his prize possession, he treated you like a trophy — everything you wanted he would get not matter what it was.

But if you want something you had to do something back in return and those 'returns' were movies for him... the once sweet man at the bar offering to pay for your drinks and making you giggle now had your hands tied up with a camera in your face. “Smile for me baby” his voice raspy but heavenly — the only thing you could do was smile. “Good girl” his ‘good girl ’.. his ‘ innocent girl ’.. his ‘ beautiful piece of art ’.

His friends were even jealous of him. His sweet girl who started to do everything for him — “ my love .. could you make our guest some tea? ” your sweet smile and cheerful voice made the other men crave you. “ you’re a lucky man ” , “ mmm i would love to be laid up with her all day ” , “ her innocence… it would drive me insane ” , “ she’s such a sweetheart ” .

Those were a few things his friends would say about you — sometimes they would be sweet and kind things but sometimes it would be very sexual things. Yet he never got mad but instead he would do some of the things with you … fucking you by a big open window, playing with you under the tables at restaurants, or even teasing you in front of his friends. You were his ‘ prize possession ’ and his only.

“shh.. shh you’re okay my sweet girl” he whispered in your ear causing a goosebump reaction to hit your warm body. pumping and pumping you felt your nails dig deeper into his back while his cold hands helped your body bounce on his thick cock — “ you feel it baby? is that why you are lost for words? ” the non stop pumping now had your legs twitching. You felt his breath against your skin .. it was heavy and yet steady. he wanted to please this his toy … because again you are his prize possession and soon to be the love of his life.

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gumii-bearr · 6 months ago

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❝ patience ❞

summary: it really is a virtue.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!reader, alt!megumi, mentions of piercings and tattoos, reader is so hot fr, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, fingering, pet names, tatted gumi!!, teasing

author's note: the tongue piercing drabble got me in a chokehold, so enjoy!!

You would consider yourself a patient person. You spent your time getting tattoos and waiting for piercings to heal– that requires patience.

That was a virtue you were proud of– but your patience went out the window when it came to Megumi.

His breath was hot against the skin of your belly, his lips tracing the intricate ink patterns adorning your body. His tattooed hands seemed to dwarf your plush thighs as his forearms snaked under your legs, hands holding your thighs open for him to lay between.

His messy hair tickled your tummy as his tongue traced from your navel to the lacy hem of your black panties.

The moment his six weeks healing time for his tongue piercing was up, the first thing he wanted to do was eat you out. He simply had to. But that wouldn’t stop him from taking his time and making you squirm.

“Can you hurry up?” You whined, your hand subconsciously pushing his head down toward your cunt, the thick fragrance of your arousal lingering in the air.

Megumi could only smirk against your lacy panties, his dark eyes glancing up at you from between your legs– if your phone wasn’t so far away right now you’d be taking a fucking picture and making it the background of every device you owned.

“You’re so demanding,” Megumi grinned, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh, his fingers curling into the plush skin.

“You’ve made me wait weeks, I think I can be a little demanding,” you retorted with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Mmm, sure,” he said, seemingly disinterested.

The back of your hand instinctively pressed against your mouth to stifle the pathetic whine you let out when Megumi finally– finally– pressed a kiss to your puffy clit through your panties. The friction wasn’t nearly enough but it made you dizzy nonetheless.

“Shh,” Megumi pressed your thighs down, forcing you to stop squirming. He pressed down on the backs of your thighs, forcing you to spread open for him.

His tongue darted out, licking from your dripping pussy to your clit through your panties, his tongue piercing catching on the swell of your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the root as you forced him closer.

His long finger curled around the fabric of your panties, forcing the material to the side to finally press his tongue against your hole, savouring the taste of your sweet arousal. You tipped your head back as he toyed with you, his thumbs spreading apart your folds so he could press the ball of his tongue piercing against your cute little clit.

“F-Fuck, Gumi,” you whined, toes curling as his thumb traced around your sopping hole, the ball of his tongue piercing rolling against your little bundle of nerves, forcing your cunt to squeeze around nothing.

He kept teasing you, his thumb dipping across the wetness of your hole without pressing into you like you desperately needed. He kept toying with your clit, switching between light rolls of his tongue and gentle sucking.

You began to grind your hips against his face in desperate need of friction. Megumi’s hands pressed flat against your tummy, forcing your hips to still.

“Patience,” he whispered against your folds, your slick arousal dripping down his chin. He traced his fingers down the inside of your thigh, the other hand still holding your hips down. The roughness of his thumb pressed against your clit, gently circling the reddened bud.

He licked a painfully slow stripe up your folds, the coldness of his tongue barbell catching against your warmth and making you whine softly.

Fuck, you tasted so good.

“Mm, fuck, baby,” Megumi groaned, his tongue barbell swirling around your clit as the tip of his middle finger prodded at your sopping hole.

He gave a hard suck to your swollen clit as he pressed his long finger into you, forcing a whiny moan from your throat. He pushed in a second finger, the slipperiness of your pussy making it easy for him to curl his fingers around that spongy spot inside you.

The lewd squelching sounds would have embarrassed you on any other occasion if it weren’t for how fucking good it felt to have Megumi’s long fingers curling and scissoring your pussy open while he sucked and curled his tongue against your clit.

Your belly began to burn, unable to stop yourself as you grind your hips against his face. Megumi grinned against your wetness, shaking his head from side to side over your slick clit and forcing you to scream out, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head.

“Fuck!” you yelled out, chest heaving as you panted, Megumi’s relentless abuse against your sensitive clit sending you hurling over the edge.

Your toes curled and your back arched off the bed as Megumi fucked his fingers into you through your high. Your pussy clamping down on his fingers and coating them with your slick sweetness.

Megumi pressed his hips into the bed, his cock rock hard from hearing and tasting all of you.

You panted and whined as Megumi kissed at your folds, licking up the remnants of your orgasm and pulling his fingers gently from your spasming hole.

You sighed at the empty feeling, your eyes pressed closed as you came back down from your high. You almost didn’t register Megumi crawling back up the bed before he pressed his finger against your pretty lips.

You opened your mouth, letting him press his slick fingers against your tongue, forcing you to taste your own sweetness, “good girl,” he said, voice low and laced with arousal.

You sucked his fingers clean, your little hand wrapping around his veiny wrist as his free hand reached for the buckle of his belt.

You’d be in for a surprise when you saw his other piercing.

author's note: teehee just a lil one.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #x reader #jjk megumi x reader #jjk smut #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #alt megumi better choke me rn #megumi x reader smut #megumi fushiguro x reader smut #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi

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fbfh · 19 days ago

Note

Sjjememdj

Leo eating a sleepy reader out 💔💔

PLEAse I'm ovulating for this man 😔

I. BABES. You know that trend where someone will say all their dog’s favorite words or boyfriend’s favorite words to see how they react??? You got me with Leo, sleep, and eating out reader. Truly.

In the words of luv note by chloe moriondo, for Leo sleeping has never been so easy. Not since he met you. Since he started sleeping in the same bed as you. Leo was genuinely surprised when he fell asleep like a goddamn log with his head on your chest, or with you pulled snug and close in his warm arms cuddled into his warm chest while he spoons you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. I’m getting distracted by (in the most literal sense) sleeping with Leo. He’s so warm and it’s always in a way that makes you feel so cozy. His breath is so warm on your neck, his hands are all over you. Leo also does do cricket feet right before he falls asleep. He is not aware of this but you are. He goes from tapping out messages in morse code on your skin (he will ALWAYS find a way to wiggle his hands under your clothes. Mans is KING of skin to skin contact. Despite how cold he gets he will never toss an opportunity to sleep as stripped down and close to nakey with you as possible, just to feel your body heat against him. You are his weighted blanket, you just… quiet his mind. And you know each other so, so intimately. You know him, you know each little cue. You know how he lets out a big sigh when he starts to fall asleep, you know how his hands will eventually still and be briefly replaced by his feet rubbing against each other for a few minutes before he falls asleep. If you’re cool with it he also will do cricket feet against your feet too. Might feel weird at first but it’s so goddamn cute that he subconsciously does self soothing stuff to you too. It’s like how animals will groom each other on instinct. On some deep base primal level of caveman monkey amoeba brain, his instincts go oh this is relaxing and soothing, let’s soothe our mate too. If we need comforting and soothing we’re gonna comfort and soothe our mate too. Duh. obviously. And it’s so fucking sweet and you could never put into words how deeply and profoundly those mundane little moments are. How much they affect you, how deeply and vastly they really mean to you.

And the thing is your EXISTENCE soothes Leo. It really does. He just thinks you’re so goddamn cute. Like he actually gets occasional cuteness aggression because of you. He can and will bite you. Leo was NOT a biter before he met you. But then again you didn’t scream laugh until you met him. Really a sign of true love. So sometimes in the morning when you’re all sleepy and soft, all flushed and warm and mushy he just. Can’t help himself. It’s like a dream of a playground all for him. He kisses you and touches you so you don’t wake up too fast. He mumbles little sweet things into your ear. He pulls you sideways so you’re at an angle on your bed. You’re both probably close to being naked to begin with since we established how much this man LOVES skin to skin contact. Needs it even. He never slept in his underwear or naked before you. He does it BECAUSE of you. So he adjusts you and he adjusts himself until he’s kissing your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You’re probably just in undies and one of his big old MIT shirts (he got a few in the biggest sizes they had before he graduated so you’d have extras as big loose sleep shirts. He was successful.) so he pushes your shirt up enough to kiss your tummy, all soft and relaxed since you’re still mostly asleep. Or at least pretending to be. If he’s feeling particularly playful he might stick his tongue in your belly button, just to see if you’re awake by if you start giggling or not. Regardless, soon he gets down to the real meat and potatoes of it all. He holds your legs, he kisses your thighs, he just… takes his time. He revels in you, in touching and feeling and smelling every inch of you. He nibbles at that fleshy little part of your upper inner thigh that he just loves to bite and suck on so much, he’ll leave a few hickeys on those spots (leo obsessed with hickeys anon you are SO RIGHT I didn’t forget about you dw <3) and he won’t say this out loud because he always worries he’ll sound like some kind of psychotic cannibal or something, but he loves the taste of your skin in his mouth. He never, ever felt that before you. He didn’t know you COULD feel that before you. You’re both just so compatible on a chemical, primal level that it’s really mind blowing. He loves the way your skin kind of sticks to his a little when you’re both warm and cozy and a little clammy from sleep. He eats that shit up. Would it make him want to peel his fucking skin off when it happens with anyone else? Sure! But he LOVES that shit with you.

He’s just reeeeally gonna take his time with this. He just rubs his face into your mound or bulge, nuzzles in and takes a big deep breath of that raw, warm, sleepy you smell. He hums contently, kissing and languidly mouthing at you through your underwear until they’re nice and wet with his spit and your juice. If he’s feeling extra cheeky he will remove them with his mouth and teeth too. And lemme just say this one very concise statement. Leo Valdez eats you out for his pleasure. The thing is he knows EXACTLY what to do and how to do it to make you sing like a goddamn canary. He knows your body so well, so intimately that it’s freaky at times if you think about it too much. So on mornings like this, he can really just slow down and appreciate you. Each and every little drip and twitch, every ridge, every bump, every soft little wet achy squishy part of your insides. He eats that shit up.

Literally and figuratively. It’s sensory fucking heaven for him, and by the time you finally wake up, dripping and blissed out from the countless orgasms he’s coaxed right into his waiting mouth, you seriously think this is another wet dream for several minutes. Also he’s doing all of this with no hands. He loves using his hands on you a lot, but on slow mornings when he’s trying to keep his thoughts from going too fast right out the gate, while he’s waiting for his adderall to kick in and needs something to focus on, what he focuses on is you. How you taste in his mouth, how you make his whole body feel tingly and fuzzy and crackly, how he can feel ripples of pleasure working steadily through him as he ruts and grinds into the mattress a little, too distracted by how you feel and taste and smell, by the sound of his mouth expertly vacuum sealing onto your hole while he tongue fucks you to think about anything else. Anything at all. His nose is rubbing and bumping against your sensitive spot while his tongue rolls and rubs and flicks like he was born to do it. His hair, a little frizzy from sleep and smushed flat on one side, tickles your stomach.

By the time you DO eventually wake up, you might as well stay in bed. Hell, you’re already soaking wet (and he’s about to bust a nut at any moment) and you know you won’t be able to walk anyway. Besides, who could function after waking up to something like that? No one. There will NEVER be a better opportunity to let him go down on you while you play with his hair, just so you can turn the tables and overstimulate him right back than mornings like this. It’s really a perfect moment in a string of perfect moments, all because they’re spent together.

#drabbles #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus drabbles #leo valdez drabbles #leo valdez smut #heroes of olympus smut #OOOOOH LEO GOING DOWN ON READER #BABE IM ACTIVELY ON MY PERIOD AND THIS FUCKING TRIGGERED OVULATION FOR ME TOO /J #I have never wanted to just fucking crawl into someone's skin this bad #it's not enough either #I need to fucking crystal gem fusion with him #for fuck's sake #god I could talk about his dick for DAYSSSSSSS #mmm

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jinusajas · 7 months ago

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11/16/24; 01:06pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they’re in heat ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

additional notes: these are very short and very heated drabbles. my bestie pulled sylus’s card for me and i am now extremely f e r a l.

the effects of the “spell” had yet to wear off when sylus traps you in his bed, shedding you of all of your clothes while pressing the mushroom tip of his cock against your entrance.

he had you bent over on the mattress, with his chest pressing so deeply on your back. he continues to tease you in this new position, his deep purrs seeming to reverberate throughout your body. all while the sensation of his tail rubbing so eagerly around your slick heat makes you crumple on the bed.

“mmm…” letting out another purr of your name, sylus grips at your breasts before sliding the entire length of his cock deep inside of you, already setting a rapid pace when he pulls his cock out until only the tip was inside before slamming back in. by now, you were left a sobbing mess, clinging to your sheets as sylus proceeds to ram his hips against yours. the sounds of skin slapping against skin were all that echoes throughout the room, making you nearly roll your eyes back in response to such a sensation.

“only animals mate in such a position.” sylus tells you with a grunt all while biting down against the lobe of your ear. as you gasped and clawed at the sheets, you could feel each pulsating vein against sylus’s cock and the way he shamelessly pushes into you. basking in your needy moans, sylus presses a kiss against your damp cheek while hotly murmuring within your ear,

“and i’m starting to see the appeal of such mating rituals…”

zayne’s low purrs when he sinks into you causes a surge of heat to course through you, making you gasp when you felt your boyfriend initiate such intimate acts with you.

through a series of events, zayne was turned into a cat hybrid of sorts, and detecting your familiar scent was enough to send your lover into heat. his eyes became dilated at the mere sight of you, causing him to lose all sense of coherency.

running on pure instinct, zayne pushes aside your clothes, allowing his slender fingertips to run across and tease at your pussy lips before spreading them briefly. his grunts become needier, forgetting all about his intentions of foreplay when he catches a whiff of your pure, feminine scent.

but you weren’t complaining.

as you allow zayne to grip at your thighs, he slides the entire length of his cock inside of you. while you nearly spilled your juices atop his cock from such a sensation, zayne was not faring any better, tossing his head back while setting a sloppy pace against you.

his eyes were clenched shut, with his hands gripping at your breasts, allowing them to bounce within the palm of his hand each time his hips pistons in and out of you. and while you got drunk off of the pleasure zayne continues to give you, you were dimly aware of how your name were the only words that came from his mouth.

when xavier leads you to someplace a little more private, you weren’t expecting to be pushed to the ground with your skirt and panties tossed to the side. feeling your boyfriend settle himself between your legs, you had to bite against your fists to keep from crying out to him.

his newly developed cat ears were felt tickling at your inner thighs while his tongue lazily lapped at your slick walls. he drinks in every last drop of your honeyed arousal, like a spoiled cat having its fill of cream. unable to stop yourself, you delve your fingers into his hair all while purposely caressing at his cat ears, earning a shudder from him.

mere seconds later, xavier removes himself from between your legs, licking away the evidence of your arousal before pulling down his pants with a free hand. his swollen cock was revealed to you for only a moment before he impales your slick heat with it

“ngh…!” xavier’s grunts echo throughout the area along with your desperate moans. as your hunter boyfriend continues to pound himself into you, you felt the moisture flood from within your walls upon hearing his drunken words-

“not only do you taste so sweet, but you feel so good around me… just like this…”

“it’s going to take more than a few pats to satisfy me, princess.”

you didn’t like how haughty rafayel sounded, especially now that he had some cat like traits. despite the many times you had caressed and poked at his ear-

your stubborn boyfriend had yet to relent.

which was why you resorted to a bit more… extreme measures.

somehow, you had managed to push rafayel on his back, pinning him to the floor while pulling down his pants. he grunts in response to your actions, his tail twitching almost impatiently when you settle yourself between his thighs.

he was still pouting at you, deep crystalline eyes meeting your gaze, as if challenging you-

yet all that attitude from him disappears the moment you free his cock and place the mushroom tip inside of your mouth. basking in the way his entire body shudders in response to your actions, you take him even deeper inside of your mouth, allowing your tongue to trace at the pulsating veins that decorate his shaft.

“f-fuck, princess…!” he stills his hips and releases his seed inside of your awaiting lips, where you eagerly swallowed all that he had to offer with a satisfied hum.

you lick your lips, moving away from him to admire your work and just how beautifully rafayel had come undone for you. his ears were seen twitching atop his soft, wavy locks of hair with his arm thrown across his eyes. the young lemurian continues to breathe as if he had just finished running a marathon-

but you weren’t done with him yet, oh no-

far from it.

giving him a smug expression, you remove your soaked panties, allowing the bottom half of your body to remain bare before taking rafayel’s limp cock in your hand. he gasps, removing his arms while staring at you with wide eyes.

“princess- hng…!” he tosses his head back the moment you began to stroke him back to full hardness, making sure he was fully erect before sinking your aching cunt down on rafayel as you eagerly bounced yourself up and down his cock.

perhaps you were the one in heat instead of him after all.

end notes: brain go brrrr after seeing my fave lads boys as cats…. mrooooowing purring ripping my hair out——- 🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

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akaaiholic · 1 month ago

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Angel Talk

Kenma x GN!Reader | drabble + author’s note utc

Kenma who doesn’t swear around you, his words as pure as hymns sung by angels when he takes you on dates.

You decide to stop by his house to surprise with baked goods but you stop dead in your tracks halfway in his doorway because you hear him shout “Fuck!” like all hell had broke loose.

He turns to you like a deer in headlights as you walk closer and leave the box of pastries on his desk. You kiss his cheek and he begins struggle and stutter getting his words out.

“D-did you have trouble g-getting here h-hon..?”

“Mmm.. No.”

Kenma’s palms are sweaty and thank god the game was over, but the poor guy had just lost his rank up game. You could hear laughter from his headset bleed out and your boyfriend’s face getting red.

“Is Kenma all quiet because his parter is here??”

“Lev, hush it.”

“He can’t even tell me to shut the fuck up!”

The howling laughter bleeds through once more before Kenma mutes himself and puts down his headset to look at you.

“Didn’t know you had a foul mouth, Ken. You spoke like an angel to me.”

He groans with a guilty look on his face,

“I only speak like an angel to angels.”

author’s note: tysm for reading this very very short fic heehee.. i’ll post a longer fic soon,, let’s be twt mutuals (ifb!) @/akaaiholic

#akaaiholic #1sipof—akaaihol #haikyuu #hq #kozume kenma #kenma #kenma x reader #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #kenma fluff #sfw #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fic #akaaiholic—drabbles

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2tarbell · 11 months ago

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MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER

only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…

you were going to end rafe cameron.

on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.

now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.

it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.

the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.

“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.

your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.

god was really testing you tonight.

you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.

the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.

“rafe. sit up.”

his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.

“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.

you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.

“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.

he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.

“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”

you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.

“you’re such a pain in my ass—“

“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.

“rafe, i am so serious right now—“

with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.

you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.

“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”

rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.

you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.

“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“

“mmm, can’t control it around you.”

his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—

the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.

“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.

“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.

“go out with me.”

he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.

“rafe—“ you tensed up.

“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“

the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.

“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“

a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.

“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”

his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.

“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.

the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.

“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.

“i am—“

rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.

“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.

rafe, rafe, rafe.

“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?

with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“that’s my girl…”

you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.

but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.

rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.

“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.

so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.

#kook!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction

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sweetlikemonie · 2 months ago

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𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐏

lil drabble for my man based on this video 🤭

content warnings: light degradation (he calls you a nasty bitch), praise, use of a toy, fingering, you’re also being recorded

author’s note: a lil sum sum while y’all wait on that geto and pearline fic don’t curse me 🥲 i’ve been so busy i’m sorry.

“Don’t look away.”

Onyankopon’s voice poured over you like heat, rich and dark and steady. You sat on the edge of the vanity chair, legs spread, heels digging into the counter, bare skin slick with anticipation. The soft hum of the rose toy vibrated against your clit…lightly teasing and already your thighs were twitching, your breathing uneven.

He stood behind you, one hand around your throat, not choking, just holding—reminding you who was in control. Onyankopon’s other hand rest against your at your breast, tweaking and teasing at your nipples, occasionally dropping down to take one into his mouth.

His eyes flicked up to the camera, recording everything. The mirror reflected the whole scene: your glassy eyes, parted lips, the toy nestled between your thighs, and Onyankopon towering behind you.

“You wanna come already?” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck, watching you squirm under the suction. “You can’t even sit still, baby.”

You tried to hold on, tried to keep your eyes trained on the mirror like he told you. But your hips rolled forward, chasing the sensation, mouth falling open.

“Eyes up,” he snapped softly, the grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath hitch. “This ain’t just for you, it’s for me. For them. Let ’em see how pretty you get when I turn you out.”

The rose pulsed harder, perfectly in sync with your heartbeat, and your body arched as a cry slipped from your lips—raw, high-pitched, desperate. Your reflection stared back at you, ruined and beautiful, every inch of you trembling.

“Don’t come yet,” he warned.

But it was already too late.

“You couldn’t even hold it, could you?”

Onyankopon’s voice slid over your skin like silk, low and amused, but heavy with authority. The rose toy buzzed weakly on the counter, soaked from the mess you made on it, your legs still twitching from the orgasm you weren’t supposed to have. You tried to pull yourself together, but your body wouldn’t stop trembling, your mind already gone.

He pressed in close behind you, one large hand cradling your jaw as he tilted your head toward the mirror. “Look at you,” he murmured. “Didn’t even ask. Just made a mess like a nasty little bitch.”

The way he said it…soft, damn near affectionate sent another rush between your legs. You whimpered, shame curling in your gut, but he smiled at you in the mirror. Like he adored how wrecked you were.

“Mmm,” he hummed, dragging two fingers down between your thighs, slow and teasing. “This what happens when I’m too nice to you?”

He gathered your cum on his fingers, then brought them to your lips.

“Go ‘head. Taste what disobedience gets you.”

You opened without hesitation, moaning as you sucked his fingers clean, tongue curling around him like you couldn’t get enough. He watched you with heavy eyes, thumb stroking your cheek once you were done.

“Good girl,” he said, almost like a reward. “Even when you’re outta line, you’re still my good girl, ain’t you?”

Before you could answer, his fingers were back inside you—deep, fast, merciless. Your body arched, your thighs tried to close, but he gripped your leg and forced them wider.

“You’re gonna take all of it. Every stroke, every pump,” he growled, voice still thick with affection, but dripping in filth. “I don’t care if you’re sensitive. You wanted to come without permission? Now you’ll come until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles in time with the thrust of his fingers. Your moans were loud now, desperate, echoing off the walls. But all he did was smile at your reflection watching you fall apart for him, again.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that,” he whispered, mouth brushing your temple. “You look so fucking beautiful when you lose it for me.”

And when you came again…loud, breathless, and soaked—he kissed your cheek, slow and sweet.

“Next time, you’ll wait,” he said, still stroking you through it. “Or I’ll keep you like this all night.”

#𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚—onyankopon’s journal entry #onyankopon x black reader smut #x black reader #x black reader smut #aot smut #aot x black reader #aot x black reader smut #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black y/n

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cinnamorollcrybaby · 9 months ago

Note

i need more of that Shameless toji fic, god please

i'm SICK 😭😭😭

Shameless Mini Drabble

Tags: dilf!Toji x fem!Reader, reader is pregnant, breeding kink, daddy kink, size kink, all the kinks idk, smut, nsfw, mdni

An: Hi! A lot of people requested a part two of the Shameless fic I posted not too long ago. I actually never intended on continuing that story because I figured no one would really like the ending lol (everyone seems to hate the pregnancy trope at the end), but I’m not opposed to writing one-offs with those characters.

“Mmmn~ So pretty, mama.” Toji’s voice quietly rasps out after he unlatches from your nipple. He’s been excessively attached to you recently, and you have a sneaking suspicion it’s because you’re starting to show.

Your belly is starting to take shape, and you have a small little bump. Pants were starting not to fit you anymore, and you have noticed a lot more new symptoms as well.

Achy breasts are one of them.

“Toji… please, it hurts..” You softly whimper as you roll your head to the other side of the pillow. He’s been going at this for at least an hour: gently torturing you with his mouth.

“I know it does.” He purrs lowly before lapping his tongue over the small bud of nerves again, causing for you to shudder. “It’ll start feeling good soon. Just trust me.”

His mouth gently clasps back over your nipple, and his eyes flutter shut. His hand is mindlessly toying with the other one — making sure it doesn’t “feel left out”.

Your nose scrunches at the odd feeling. Your breasts were so sore these days it was torture having to put on a bra (Toji definitely advocated for you not to wear one anymore), but right now the pain was tolerable while he was stimulating you.

Your back subtly arches off the bed as a small hum emits from your mouth. You’re starting to feel a different sort of ache between your thighs. You press your legs together, trying to cope with the feeling of your panties growing damp.

Toji slowly pulls away and smirks up at you. “Told you that you’d start feeling good soon.” He teases with almost a smoldering look in his eye.

“Shut up.” You mutter out as you look away from him, feeling embarrassed that it was so easy for him to get you in the mood.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t you get an attitude with me because your pussy likes me so much.” Toji continues on with his teasing, and his fingertips just barely brush against your core, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

With a small chuckle, Toji pulls off your sleeping pants and panties. “Oh, poor thing.” He muses as he gazes between your thighs.

You quickly cross your legs with a huff. “Don’t say those things while you look down there!” You whine with a pout. You loved how vocal Toji could be in bed, but sometimes, it made you feel all shy and embarrassed.

He rolls his eyes and places his hands on his knees before he forces your legs apart. “Don’t try to hide ‘er from me.” He chastises as he leans down between your legs, pressing a soft kiss at the very top of your core. He can almost smell your arousal like a damn dog, and his mouth starts to literally water from the promise of your cunt.

“She’s cryin’ for me.” He drawls lazily as he licks a stripe between your glistening folds. “Mmm, she wants to be bred so badly, yet she doesn’t know I’ve already done that.”

Your hands fist at the sheets as he teases you. Your body is restless, moving around to try to feel something. The under stimulation was going to kill you. “Toji, please.” You whine to him, trying to make him speed things along.

Toji’s pretty green eyes look up at you as he laps at you again. His dick throbs in his pants as he realizes your getting desperate. “What is it, pretty mama?” He doesn’t break eye contact as he goes in for another lick.

Your body shudders as you hold his gaze pathetically. He’s so fucking good at driving you up a wall. He literally fucked you this morning, and you’re already so pent up again. “More — please, I.. I need more.” You beg to him.

His tongue immediately swirls around your clit in tight circles, causing for you to hiccup and gasp. Your juices are practically flooding his chin. “Greedy pussy.” He mutters lowly before giving the small bundle of nerves a gentle suckle. “Always so desperate to be bred by my cock.”

After another torturously slow lick, Toji gently places his thumb against your clit, and he rubs in small circles. His eyes are fixated on the way your cunt clenches around nothing. Your body is practically begging to be filled by him!

“You know, most animals don’t fuck while pregnant. Biologically, there’s no point to it. Maybe I should wait until you pop my brat out before I fuck you.” He suggests with a small smirk.

“W-what-?” You immediately ask in a pouty tone. Realistically, you know Toji’s just bluffing, but you’re in such a vulnerable state that you immediately try to dispel his claims. You know, so he’ll fuck you. “That’s.. mmnf~.. that’s not true, Toji… Cats can have a litters from - hah! .. multiple dads. That means they fuck while pregnant.”

“What are you suggesting, slut?” His voice drops to a dangerously low warning tone, and he adds pressure to your clit. “You tryin’ to get fucked by another dad?”

“No-!” You immediately cry out as you feel his thumb bringing you dangerously close to the edge. He’s so mean when he gets jealous. He gathers spit into his mouth before he expels a glob of his saliva onto your pretty cunt. The sticky wet sounds only grow in volume as he continued to rub. “I only w-want you, daddy.”

Toji grits his teeth upon hearing you profess your want to him. His dick is painfully hard as he’s been carefully grinding himself into the mattress while he was eating you out. He wants to feel you so bad; his dick is practically pulsing your name in morse code.

“Atta girl.” He grunts as he removes his hand. You immediately start to whine and protest since you were so close. His hands push down his boxers, and his cock immediately springs upwards from the confines of his clothes. His tip was an angry shade of red from neglect, and there was a small pearl of pre-cum gathered on his slit.

“Let’s see if you’re still stretched from this morning, eh?” He muses as he gathers your legs, and he places them on his shoulders. He doesn’t put you in a full mating press out of fear of making you feel uncomfortable with your bump, but he keeps your body at a 90 degree angle.

He holds your gaze as he presses his cock against your entrance. He’s slow to push himself in, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from busting inside you prematurely. Your cunt is just so fucking warm, and you’re practically gushing around him.

The ring of muscle makes a sort of ‘pop’ feeling as his tip bullies its way inside of you. “Fuuuuck, mama..” He groans as his hands grip onto your thighs tightly. “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes himself in until he’s buried to the hilt. Your gummy walls pulses around him as feeling so full pushes you right over the edge. Your head tilts back with a loud moan.

“Did you just cum from me puttin’ it in-?” He asks as he eyes you closely. A dangerous chuckle escapes him. “I’m gonna mmf- fuckin’ marry you one day, doll.” He professes as his hips go to work, pounding himself into you.

Your eyes cross as you’re completely blissed out — already so ruined, and Toji’s only just started on his fun. He grabs at your thighs and pulls you into him with harsh thrusts. His broad chest is barely covered by your legs as you’re just a little thing compared to him.

Toji groans as your pussy is squelching around him with each thrust. He can’t decide if he wants to look at your pretty cunt taking him so well or your face as he makes you take his fat cock while you’re so sensitive. Your little fucked out face is quite literally a masterpiece to him.

“Mmnn~ daddy-! Ah..” You’re a babbling mess, calling him by his government name and by your little nickname for him.

“Feels good, don’t it?” He asks as his reaches down and starts to rub tight circles on your clit.

“Y-yes!” You hiss as your back arches off the bed. Your thighs are already trembling, and your slick pools on the sheets below you, creating quite the mess.

“Shh, shh.. don’t wake that brat up, you hear?” He warns. Little Megumi has only recently started sleeping the whole night in his own room, and Toji has been taking full advantage of that. Normally you two will sneak off for quickies in the bathroom or laundry room, but now, he’s keen on taking you in the middle of the night and waking you up with your cunt full of his cum.

“Hah~ ah..” You pant as your hips start to flutter upwards to meet his with each thrust.

“Dirty fucking girl.” He muses as he watches you try to fuck yourself on his cock. He adores when you get so desperate like this, like a little fucktoy who can’t help themselves. “Just need to be bred, huh?”

“Ngh.. please Toji..”

“Nuh uh. Ask me properly, doll.”

“Please breed me, d-daddy!”

Toji leans in a bit, almost forcing your body into a mating press. His hips slam into yours; his tip kissing strings of pre-cum onto your cervix. He becomes so animalistic when he’s close like this. “Yeah? Again? Want daddy to breed you again?” He growls lowly as he continues to stuff you full of his cock.

Fat overstimulated tears slip down your cheeks as you spasm around him once again. Toji’s hand reaches up and grabs a fistful of your hair, jerking you to look up at him before he forces his lips onto yours.

His cock then pulses inside of you, shooting rope after rope of warm cum deep inside your core. It seems like he never runs out. As if his body has to keep up with his almost breeding kink.

His rough hungry kiss slowly calms as he empties himself into you. He gently helps your legs off of his shoulders, and his kisses turn tender and loving. Post-nut clarity hit, and he remembers that you’re his pregnant girlfriend. He’s almost angry with himself for being so rough sometimes.

“Did so good, doll. You hurtin’ anywhere?” He asks between soft kisses.

“No… I think I’m okay… just sore.”

In between his wet loving kisses, a knock on your bedroom door could be heard. “Mama.. papa..” A small voice sniffles from the other side with another small knock. Poor Megumi had a nightmare… something about papa making mama scream? Weird.

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