#overstimulating image warning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshifighting · 4 months ago

Text

— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment. — WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.

here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:

you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.

joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.

but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.

which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:

��i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”

“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.

“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.

you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.

“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”

which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.

you unlock the door, push it open,

and immediately wish you hadn’t.

seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.

your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.

the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.

he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.

the next few seconds happen in slow motion.

his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.

“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.

you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”

“what about joshua?!”

“he… he needed a document.”

seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”

“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”

“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”

“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”

“HE’S NOT HERE.”

“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”

but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”

you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.

back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.

so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.

“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.

you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.

“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.

seungcheol tenses. “so?”

“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”

he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.

so you take a step forward. just one.

his breath hitches.

“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”

he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.

so you take another step.

and another.

until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.

his jaw tightens. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”

in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.

you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.

his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”

you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.

so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

“or what?” you whisper.

his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”

your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.

“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”

he snaps.

the shirt under you is gone.

his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.

you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt.

his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.

the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”

no warning. just that.

you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.

there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.

seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.

but he’s not.

because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.

your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.

and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.

so he helps.

his hands clamp down on your waist.

and then he slams you down.

the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.

because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.

but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.

your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.

you can’t move.

“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.

“too big for you, baby?”

you whimper.

“thought so.”

and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.

and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.

“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”

you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips.

his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.

he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.

“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”

you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.

and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”

a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.

he groans, grinding up into you.

“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”

your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.

and he sees it.

his grin turns cruel.

“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”

you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.

“poor little thing.”

he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.

and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.

“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”

his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.

“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”

he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.

“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.

“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”

his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.

“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”

he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.

“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”

heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.

“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”

his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.

“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”

he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.

you shatter.

your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.

it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.

your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you.

the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.

seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.

“you good?”

you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”

he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.

his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”

you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.

you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.

you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.

you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.

his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.

“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.

you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”

he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.

you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.

he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.

the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.

his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.

your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.

your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”

you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.

he sees it. he knows.

his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.

your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.

but then—a whimper.

not from you.

from him.

you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.

seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.

he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.

“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”

your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”

he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.

your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.

seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.

your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.

your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.

you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.

but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.

the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.

but it’s enough to make him look at you.

you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.

then it hits you.

the documents.

joshua.

fuck.

your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”

seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”

he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”

you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”

“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”

your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”

“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”

“no.”

he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”

you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.

yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.

7K notes · View notes

choslut · 7 months ago

Text

# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)

$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k

warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names

NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!

Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.

When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.

“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock.

And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”

Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.”

Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty.

She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest.

“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.”

“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”

You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.”

“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress.

“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.”

“Vi…”

“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”

After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?”

“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”

You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”

“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”

“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?”

Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.”

“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.”

You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.

“Vi, please.”

“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.”

You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely.

“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”

You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”

All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.”

Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need.

“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.”

Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else.

“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?”

“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?”

In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-

You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”

“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance.

Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard.

“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”

Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”

“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole.

“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”

She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”

“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.

“Vi...”

“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.

She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”

And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.

When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.

Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”

You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.

Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”

main masterlist

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane smut #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi smut #league of legends #league of legends x reader #league of legends smut #fanfic #x reader

4K notes · View notes

starktonyx · 20 days ago

Text

Come right on me … I mean camaraderie - John Walker x reader

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━

Word count: 3.5k

Description: You can't help the inappropriate thoughts that come out of your mouth during a mission, and John has to teach you a lesson, or multiple, about it.

“Holy shit, come right on me” You mumbled under your breath. His head snapped at you. No. There’s no way his hearing caught that.

Tags/warnings: smut, fem!reader is a horny menace, dominant John, long buildup, sex, overstimulation.

Note: This has Sabrina Carpenter levels of bluntness about being horny that's how I feel about this man. Kicked my feet while writing this. Enjoy 🫶🏼

Masterlist

It wasn’t your fault, really.

It wasn’t your fault that John Walker was a goddamn idiot. Or that he was also so painfully hot you’d been waking up to drenched panties after dreams where he made you his in the most filthy ways you could imagine.

It wasn’t your fault your brain crafted entire scenarios while you slept, where he was all over you, handsy, desperate, soaked in sweat.

And it really wasn’t your fault that Bucky kept pairing you up with him for missions. You were sure Yelena had something to do with that targeted sabotage.

You were down so bad for him, all the man had to do was exist. The way he led in front of you, the way he threw around orders under pressure, the particular way he had to shove targets against walls … your mind didn’t even try to behave anymore.

This morning, you’d woken up panting, sheets damp in a sweaty mess, mind adjusting to the fact that his head was between your legs only in your dream and not in reality.

How sad.

And now here you were, paired with him again in some random warehouse lab, Yelena and Bucky waiting back on the jet while you did your part of the mission.

“Did you get it?” His voice came in a growl through your comm, you could hear his grunts as he cleared your extraction route, and holy shit, why did that do things to you?

It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.

You tucked the vial into your pocket, trying to focus. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Package secured. I’m on my way to you.”

But before you could turn, a yelp went through the comm when a rough hand grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the floor. You barely had time to gasp before a body pinned you down, heavy and aggressive, and a cold blade pressed against your throat.

You barely caught the attacker’s fist mid air, fighting the strength he was pushing down with, when a gloved hand stopped him. The man cried in pain when John twisted his arm away from your face. The next thing you knew, he went flying across room.

John had yanked him off you, throwing him away with a snarl that made your blood burn. He let his shield fall to the ground, before he stomped towards the guy, grabbed him by the collar, and smashed his fist into his face.

“So you like hitting pretty girls, huh?” He barked, punching again.

You watched from your spot on the floor, thoughts detailing from the moment he spoke. You bit your lip as he lifted the man to shove him into the wall. Those arms, those grunts … god.

Why on earth was that so hot?

"Holy shit, come right on me." You mumbled under your breath, weren’t even thinking as the words came out of your mouth.

His head snapped at you, dropping the body of the man.

Your eyes go wide. No. There's no fucking way his hearing caught that.

He started at you with furrowed brows and a hint of disbelief. Sweat clung to his hairline, making disheveled strands stick to his forehead, chest rising and falling under the weight of adrenaline.

That image wasn't helping at all.

"What?” He asked, voice coming out rougher than he intended.

Shit.

“I mean ... camaraderie! Y-yeah. Thanks for that" You blurted, pointing awkwardly at the half conscious guy on the floor like that explained anything.

He nodded hesitantly, squinting at you like he was trying to decide whether you were insane or he was.

In three long strides he walked over, standing over you offering his gloved hand. You took it, and in one swift motion he pulled you up, straight into him. His other hand landed firmly on the curve of your back, pressing you tightly against him.

Your uneven breathing hit his neck, barely reaching his jawline.

"That can be arranged" He mumbled, eyes dropping, just for a second, to your lips.

You were sure your brain just short circuited. Of course he heard your horny ass.

"John–"

Before you could say anything to defend whatever was left of your dignity, voices echoed from the hallway, and in a second, he spun you both behind a column, pressing you harshly against the wall. His palm instinctively covered your mouth, eyes locked on the entrance.

“Shh” he whispered, breath warm against your forehead. “Be quiet.”

The agents continued their way down the hall without noticing you were in the room, and John's posture relaxed slightly.

Yours didn't.

Being pinned against a wall, trapped by his larger frame of broad shoulders, feeling every ridge of his suit on your chest and something very solid pressing against your belt.

This. This is what dreams are made of.

You instinctively raised your knee, just enough to rub softly against the bulge in his suit. He sucked in a sharp breath, head jerking in your direction, hand still covering your mouth.

You notice the way his entire body tensed up again.

You brought your knee back down, slowly, and he looked like it physically pained him not to grab it back and rub against him one more time. His hand dropped from your mouth, and the smirk on your lips said everything.

You rose up on your toes, drawing your lips close to his ear.

"I bet it's even better than in my head." You teased, barely nibbling the edge of his ear.

You gasped when he pushed you tighter into the wall, jaw clenching with his fingers digging deeper onto your waist.

He was so so done for.

"Walker? Walker, come in." The comms static pierced through the tension, Yelena's voice breaking the silence. "Did you get it? We need to go. Now."

He hesitated for a second, hands twitching like he wasn’t ready to let your body go yet.

He wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice, and to be honest neither did you. He took a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and backed up a step.

"Y-yeah" He said, turning from you. His voice cracked slightly, so he cleared his throat again, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing."We got it. We’re heading to the jet now."

By the time he turned back around, you were already walking out, casually ahead of him like you hadn’t just driven him to the edge of self control.

The ride back to the watchtower was tense. You took the seat farthest from John, clearly not because you wanted to. No, you wanted to crawl into his lap and beg him to continue what you’d started, but self preservation said maybe don’t ride him in front of coworkers.

Considering Yelena and Bucky had been throwing knowing glances at you the whole time.

This was your fault after all.

Not being able to control your dirty thoughts, showing up all flustered and justifying it on almost getting sliced, pretending you could fool two polygraph detectors.

Whatever.

All you needed was a warm shower and to give yourself a little love to drown those inappropriate thoughts of yours about John.

Respectfully, of course.

You made your way across the hallway towards your room, thinking about getting that shower head as soon as you could between your thighs, when a door openned and hand grabbed you, shoving you inside that room.

The door to John's room slammed shut behind you with a solid thud. Before you could even turn around, he had you pressed up against it, hands holding his weight on the door, each placed next to your head.

"You don't get to do that shit, sweetheart" He groaned, standing close to your face. "You don't say those things to me in the middle of a mission and pretend I’ll just forget about it."

You breathe loudly, chest rising up and down, trying to wrap your head aground the fact that he had you caged in his room. You tilt your head to the side, might as well enjoy it.

"God forbid I have fantasies." You tease, without missing a bit.

Your knee went up to do the same thing you did earlier, but he took one hand off the door to stop it before it could reach his crotch, and let out a bitter laugh.

"You think you’re the only one who fantasizes? You think I don’t dream with that dirty pretty mouth of yours?"

Your breath hitched. His hands traveled to your waist, rough and possessive, thumbs digging into your hips like he was grounding himself, like the last part of him was barely holding back.

His lips brushed your neck, not kissing, just hovering. Teasingly . He pulled back, just enough to make you chase the contact, and that smug little smirk flickered on his lips.

He began guiding you away from the door, never splitting your bodies apart.

"You've been distracting me since day one" he muttered, backing you up until your legs hit the bed. "Wearing that tight suit and those damn lips. Always mouthing shit off, making me want to shut you up."

You whimpered, eyes dropping to the floor.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

"Oh, so now you're shy?" He teased, making a tsk tsk sound. "I want you to look at me now, when you talk like that."

His hands found the zipper of your suit, with a darkened look he stares at you for a moment, waiting for approval.

And fuck your heart was pounding. You needed someone to pinch you to make sure this wasn't a dream.

You nodded immediately, maybe a little too eager.

He chuckled at your desperation, taking his sweet time to take your one piece suit off, making sure he enjoyed every time your breath hitched when he grazed your skin. He dragged the fabric down, leaving you only in underwear.

As soon as the suit hit the floor, he pressed you down onto the mattress with one hand on your chest.

"You wanna tease me? Say filthy shit in the middle of a fight? Rub your knee against me like that?" His hand slid up your thigh, slowly claiming what’s always been his in your wildest dreams. "You don't get to walk away to find relief on your own."

Your breath stuttered, your hands instinctively went to the zipper of his suit, but he caught your wrists.

"John, come on–"

"No, you have to be patient like I’ve been" he said, dipping his head down to brush his lips across your collarbone. "I tried to be good. Tried to respect the mission."

He lifted his head, eyes locked on yours. "But you decided to be a brat and got me all worked up. Now I get to take my time with you."

He pulled himself back from your body, finally reaching for the top of his suit, messily dismantling it away to throw it off the bed.

You barely had time to breathe before he was on you again, kissing you hard, devouring you. His hands held your jaw, fingers rough and urgent, like he needed to keep you under him forever.

You gasped against his mouth, and that's when it slipped out.

"Been so wet all day since I woke up–“

He froze, immediately pulling back, eyes narrowed at you. "What was that?"

"N-nothing." You stuttered, too quick to be believable. He chuckled.

"No, go ahead sweetheart" he said, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. "Keep talking. You got so much to say, right?"

You opened your mouth but nothing more than a gasp came out when he pushed his hand between your thighs, grinding up against the wet spot on your panties.

"God dammit" he muttered, his fingers painfully grazing the fabric, barely touching it. "This all for me?"

You moaned, nodding. "Been saving it since the morning."

His cock twitched inside his pants at your confession. He softly slapped over your wet panties, making you jolt. "Always have something to say, don't you?" He slapped again when you nodded, harder this time, his fingers getting wet through the fabric.

He brought his fingers to his lips, and without hesitation, teased. "Tastes better than in my head."

"Fuck" you whined, head dropping to the bed. "This is so much worse now."

You were doomed. You were never coming back from this, from his touch.

From all of him.

He bitterly laughed. "You think this is hard for you?"

His hands found your hips, gripping tight. He rolled them up against his own, letting you feel how hard he was.

"I've had to walk around with this for weeks because of you. Every time you stretch, every time you bend over, every time you moan in your room–"

Your head snapped up to look at him, and his smirk deepened.

"Yeah, my room is next to yours. You think I don't hear you? Late at night, thinking you're being quiet?" He was so arrogantly casual about it, like it was something he'd wanted to confess for a long time.

That he heard you every time. A nasty little secret of yours he's kept locked for too long.

"You touch yourself thinking about me, sweetheart?" he asked, voice full of cockiness. "Bet you taste your own fingers after you're done, pretending it's me."

You wanted to yell at him and tell him he was so full of himself. But damn, he was right, all you wanted was to be full of him too.

Your hips jerked against him, your patience was running short. He hissed at your move, like the contact short circuited something in his brain.

"No shame either, didn't even try to deny it." He continued.

"That’s nothing" You shake your head teasingly. "You should hear the things that go through my head. You'd never look at me the same again."

He shook his head amused.

"Poor thing, can't even shut up about how bad she wants it."

You whined, the pool between your thighs starting to ache by the lack of his touch.

You tugged at his tactical pants. "Take them off, right now."

"Impatient" he scolded.

"I've been patient for months" you snapped, squirming under him. "You just never listened."

"Oh, I’m listening now" he growled. "I just have to be sure you can take it."

You reached up to run your hands across his chest, fingers tracing down his abdomen.

“I'll take it" you blurted, fingers dipping low enough to make him groan. "All of it."

He grinned, before fumbling with his pants, cursing when they got slightly stuck, ripping them down fast enough to make you laugh, until your eyes landed on him. On him.

"Oh my god." you breathed.

Shit. It was better than in your head.

Thick, swollen. Absolutely perfect.

He grinned. This is a sight he had only seen in dreams before. You laying on his bed, mouth parted open at the sight of his cock, ready to let him ruin you.

His mouth was on yours again, rough and needy this time, hands everywhere, yanking off the last pieces of fabric from your body like he'd earned it.

And boy, he had.

He lined himself up, dragging the hard tip through your slick entrance, teasing. But you saw it in his face, the way his jaw was clenched, like he was barely holding on.

"You sure, baby?" he asked. "I need you to say it."

You prompted yourself up by your shoulders, grabbing his face, beard tickling your fingers. "Make my fantasies come true, John."

That was all it took for him to push himself in, teasingly slow, beautifully thick, stretching you in the most delicious, overwhelming way. You moaned his name, head falling back on the mattress.

"Shit, so tight" he groaned, barely moving as your walls got used to him. "You're perfect. Fuck, you're perfect"

He couldn’t wait any longer. With no warning he was pounding into you like he meant it. Like a man who’d been dreaming about it for too long and finally got permission to ruin you.

He caged you against his body, his large hands gripped your hips so tight you'd definitely have marks.

You couldn't stop moaning, couldn't even form words. You were just a string of gasps, whimpers, and his name over and over like it was the only thing left in your brain.

"Fucking hell," he groaned, watching your face contort with every thrust. "Such a pretty little mess aren’t you?."

Your nails dragged down his back, trying to keep yourself grounded. But he was hitting that sweet spot with every thrust.

"Harder" you begged in the haze. "Please –fuck, please don't stop."

He growled. Like full on growled. He increased his speed, abusing of his enhanced strength. Your mouth dropped open in a cry, so perfectly wrecked he couldn't help the grin on his face.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" He grunted, feeling that familiar clench around his cock.

You just nodded, biting your lip. But he wasn't having that, he wanted to hear you. He leaned down, teeth grazing your ear.

"Then say it. Say what you say when you think I'm not listening"

Your brain scrambled. "W-what?"

"You know what, say it" he demanded. "Come right on me, wasn't it?"

You gasped, eyes wide as he continued to rearrange your entire system.

"Say it, sweetheart. Or I stop." He threatened, but you shook your head immediately.

You whined, thighs shaking around his waist. "Come ...fuck ... come right on you–"

You got the words mixed up, your brain completely fogged by the pleasure.

"There she is" he groaned, dragging your hips up for a better angle. "There's my filthy girl."

His praise sent your body over the edge, coming so hard it punched the air out of your lungs. And hell, he felt it. Every spasm. Every clench. He swore loud and shoved in deeper, chasing his own high.

"Where did you say you want it, baby? Say it one more time for me.” He panted, losing his rhythm, hips jerking erratically.

"Cum right on m-me" you blurted the right words this time, even while still trembling under him.

He slammed into you once, twice, before pulling out to spill all over your stomach you with a ragged growl, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, hips twitching as he emptied himself on your skin.

For a moment there was just your ragged breathing, and that slick, milky warmth dripping down your abdomen. Half his body weight rested on you, as he breathed on your neck.

"Holy shit" You mumbled, gasping, when he placed a kiss on your shoulder.

Only a few seconds passed.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving up again, feeling his hard dick against your stomach like he didn't just fill you up.

Your eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding your post orgasm haze.

"Wait, John" you panted, "you're still...?"

"Oh, baby" he chucked, flipping you over to press your chest to the mattress. He dragged your ass back to him, slow and possessive. "We're not done yet."

You gasped as he slid back in with one deep thrust, your body was too sensitive, walls fluttering around him as he groaned, gripping your hips tight to steady himself.

"You don't get to talk like that" he said, something darker in his voice now. "Say that filthy shit. Look at me the way you do, like you're ready to drop to your knees in the middle of a mission–"

"J-John" you whimpered, he felt even bigger than before.

"–and expect me to stop after one round?"

He started to move. Long, slow strokes that made your toes curl. Your face pressed to the sheets, moaning like you didn't care if your teammates heard.

"John … it's too good, too much..."

By this point you weren’t thinking clearly anymore, words coming out slurred.

"You can take it" He pushed himself harder. "You told me you could, sweetheart."

You whimpered into the pillow, your body trembling. Every thrust hit deeper, harder, somehow better than before. Pleasure curling up your spine, threatening to drag you over the edge again.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me” he muttered, leaning in closer, his voice brushing the back of your neck. “Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s the whole fucking point.”

You were so close. The overstimulation was making you see stars, enough to make you cry out his name again and again.

"So good for me. Could stay inside you all night." He praised, grunting, his hands roaming your back.

Your body crashed out again, louder this time, absolutely zero control over it, your orgasm ripping through you so hard your vision went white.

He lost it.

You cried out his name one last time as you felt him come again, body twitching while this time he filled you up, muttering curses into your back like he was trying to bury them in your skin.

He stayed like that for a moment, buried deep with uneven breathing, chest on your back. You don’t know how long passed, until he pulled out slowly, a hiss catching in his throat as you whimpered softly under him.

"Sorry, sweetheart" he mumbled, his hand softly rubbing your back, "You okay?"

You nodded, completely blissed out. Couldn’t trust yourself to speak properly at this point.

He kissed the back of your neck, so soft, completely opposite to the way he just wrecked you. You couldn't hold your body up any longer, so he helped you flip around to rest your back on the mattress.

"Still breathing, baby?" he whispered, brushing your hair from your damp face.

You let out faint laugh, your vision finally coming back to normal. "Barely."

"Good, we were just getting started."

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━━

Part 2 Have you ever tried this one? 🖤

comments and reblogs save author’s lives, thank you so much for reading <3

#john walker #john f walker #john walker x reader #john walker smut #john walker x y/n #john walker imagine #john walker x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#mcu #marvel #marvel smut #john walker defense squad #john walker headcannon #wyatt russell

1K notes · View notes

lov3lycosmos · 1 month ago

Text

𝑆𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦 𝐾𝑖𝑑𝑠 𝑆𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑁𝑜𝑛-𝑆𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑂𝑛𝑠 𐙚

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: smut MDNI

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: where we talk about the sexual and non-sexual things that turn the stray kids members on (fem!reader)

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: praise, teasing, begging, oral, soft domination, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, corruption, innocence kink, thigh/voice/name fixations, control, messy kisses, pet names, and light degradation.

𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦!

Bang Chan's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Black lace lingerie — Something about delicate, see-through black lace clinging to your curves makes his brain short-circuit. He loves how sinful you look while trying to act innocent. Bonus points if you wear thigh-highs with garters. He’ll grip your waist and whisper, "You're really doing this to me right now?"

• Being called Daddy in a soft voice — He doesn’t always ask for it, but when you drop it in your breathy moans, he loses it. Especially when you’re being a good girl and looking up at him with those eyes. Yes, those eyes — you know the ones.

• When you’re already soaking before he even touches you — There’s a moment of stunned silence when he feels it. Then comes the low chuckle and the, "You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you, baby?"

• You riding him in a skirt with nothing underneath — He gets feral when you take control, especially if you lean in and whisper exactly how good he feels. Bonus: when you bounce and the little skirt keeps flipping up? Game over.

• Waking him up with head — It’s not even fair. He’s half-asleep, barely aware, and then your mouth is on him? Yeah, he’s moaning your name in under a minute. Will absolutely return the favor tenfold.

Bangchan's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• You in his oversized hoodie, hair messy, no pants — It’s not sexual... until it is. Something about that domestic image makes him want to ruin you on the kitchen counter.

• Watching you take care of yourself — Skin care, journaling, eating your vitamins — he’s genuinely turned on by how soft and healthy you are. Says it makes him want to protect you, then proceeds to pin you against the wall.

• When you defend him in arguments — He's used to defending you. But when you flip the script? Oh, he’s obsessed. Low-key looks at you like you just proposed.

• You humming while doing chores — He walks by, hears you humming, and suddenly he’s watching your every move like you’re the most fascinating creature alive.

• You resting your head on his lap — Soft touches to his thigh, a quiet little yawn, and your lips brushing his skin? He’ll be hard in 30 seconds and trying to hide it like a gentleman. Key word: trying.

Minho's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Breathless whimpers — Especially when you try to hide them. That quiet gasp when he fingers you just right? He leans in close, grinning like the smug menace he is, and whispers, "Don’t hold back. Let them hear."

• Overstimulation — There’s nothing he loves more than seeing your legs trembling and hearing you say "I can’t" — only for him to keep going until you cum again anyway. "One more," he says, every time. "For me."

• Bondage — He doesn’t even need fancy ropes. Just your hands tied with a scarf and that helpless look in your eyes. He lives for control.

• Calling him sir in public subtly — It’s a dangerous game, but when you pull it off in a whisper while keeping your face all innocent? His grip on your thigh tightens. That’s your only warning.

• Cockwarming — He doesn’t even care if you finish. He just wants you sitting on him, needy and stuffed full while he makes you wait. Like the teasing sadist he is.

Minho's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Playing with his cats — The way you baby Soonie, Doongie, and Dori? You’re basically proposing. He’s already imagining you living together.

• When you don’t take his sass and throw it right back — He’s a menace, but when you sass him back with a smirk? He short-circuits and considers proposing on the spot.

• Your back when you’re putting your hair up — That stretch. That sliver of skin. Every damn time. It’s like you do it on purpose.

• When you laugh at his dumb jokes even when they’re bad — He pretends to hate it. But he secretly thinks you're the only person who gets him.

• Your hands in his hair — Pet him. Scratch his scalp. Stroke the back of his neck. Just know you’re not getting up again until he's done using you as a pillow...or something else.

Changbin's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Praise kink — Call him a good boy and watch him melt. Say it while you're moaning, and he might cum on the spot.

• Thigh riding — He loves watching you grind against his thick thighs like you can’t help yourself. Bonus if you end up leaving a wet patch — he’ll tease you for it while looking so damn proud.

• Public teasing — Whisper something dirty in his ear at a restaurant and watch his face go red. He’ll get his revenge later — expect to be face-down in the sheets the moment you get home.

• Mirror sex — He’s obsessed with watching you watch yourselves. Especially when he’s got a hand around your throat and you’re whimpering his name. “Look how pretty you are when I ruin you.”

• Your mouth — Doesn’t matter where. Kisses, oral, whispering filthy things — if your mouth’s involved, he’s obsessed.

Changbin's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• When you get excited about your hobbies — He loves seeing you geek out about your passions. Will sit and listen with the dopiest grin like you’re the most interesting person on Earth.

• Wearing his gym shirts — They’re huge on you and smell like him, and the sight makes him feral. Don’t be surprised if you get pulled into his lap.

• When you compliment his body without being shy — You grabbing his arms like, “Damn, baby”? Instant ego boost. Instant hard-on.

• Cooking together — You’re just chopping veggies and he’s behind you grabbing your waist like, “God, I’m so in love with you.”

• Snuggling into his chest while he’s sweaty — He’ll pretend to complain but secretly loves that you find him comforting even when he’s all gross from a workout.

Hyunjin's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Slow, sensual makeouts that turn filthy — He loves building tension. Tongues, teeth, gasps — he’ll pin you against the wall mid-kiss just to see you breathless.

• Body worship — He wants to kiss and touch every inch of you, praising every curve and scar. "So pretty, baby. Mine. All mine."

• Choking kink (light) — He doesn’t do it too rough, but when he places a hand on your neck and you moan? It flips a switch.

• Being teased until he begs — Yes, he will beg. Tease him slow, whisper how desperate he is, and he’ll be whining your name like a prayer.

• Spit play — It’s filthy, it’s messy, and he loves it. You spitting into his mouth? Immediate collapse.

Hyunjin's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• You letting him paint or sketch you — You're lying there, bare or not, and he’s staring at you like you’re a masterpiece.

• Dancing for/with him — It could be goofy or seductive. Either way, he’s got heart eyes.

• When you touch his face gently — Stroking his cheek? Fixing his hair? Babying him? He melts.

• Back hugs while he’s lost in thought — Sneak up and wrap your arms around him. He’ll lean back into you with the softest smile.

• Wearing his jewelry — His rings, his chain — it makes him feel like you’re marked by him. You know what that leads to.

Jisung's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Dirty talk — from you — Whisper something filthy and watch him glitch. He tries to match your energy but usually ends up whimpering.

• Desperate kisses — The kind where your hands are in his hair and it feels like you’ll die if you don’t touch him. He gets off on the intensity.

• Messy blowjobs — The wetter the better. Tears, spit, your hands gripping his thighs — he might lose it before you even finish.

• Calling him your pretty boy — Stroke his ego while you ride him and he’ll literally cry.

• Your hands down his pants while cuddling — He loves sneaky touches. Gets flustered but never stops you.

Jisung's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Sharing food with him — Especially when you feed him bites from your fork. Boyfriend behavior.

• Laughing at his jokes — Whether they’re hilarious or awful, he thrives on your laughter.

• Playing with his hair — Scratch his scalp and he’ll purr. Literally.

• Matching pajamas — He acts like it’s silly but takes secret photos of you and stares at them when he’s stressed.

• When you fall asleep on his chest — He won’t move for hours. Claims he doesn’t care but will tweet “someone loves me fr” an hour later.

Felix's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Praise kink (giving) — “That’s it, sunshine. Just like that.” Felix lives to see you glow under his words. You moan louder when he praises you, and he absolutely takes advantage.

• Eye contact while you’re on your knees — His voice drops when he sees you looking up at him. “You’re so pretty down there,” he breathes, brushing your hair back to get a clearer view.

• Temperature play — He loves dragging an ice cube down your skin or warming his hands and resting them between your thighs just to see you squirm.

• Mutual teasing until someone snaps — He’ll flirt, you’ll flirt back, and the moment turns into a game of who can break first. Spoiler: it's usually him.

• When you moan his name — Something about you purring out “Lixie” in that soft voice? He goes feral. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you know it.

Felix's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• You calling him pet names in your sleepy voice — Baby, love, sweetheart — if you say it half-asleep while snuggled into him? He’s yours forever.

• When you bake for him and let him lick the spoon — Domestic Felix is activated. Bonus: if you let him smear chocolate on your lips just so he can kiss it off.

• You clinging to him when you’re scared or nervous — He puffs up like a protective guard dog. And afterward? He holds you tighter than usual.

• Soft humming while you do your skincare — It’s calming, cozy, and Felix will watch from the bed like he’s witnessing an angel.

• Cuddling with your legs tangled under a blanket — He rubs little circles into your calf and whispers about how much he loves your warmth.

Seungmin's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Power play (him being in control) — He looks soft, but the way he grabs your chin and says, “Use your words, or I’ll stop,” proves he’s anything but.

• When you whimper while trying to stay quiet — He’ll smirk and lean in, voice low: “Don’t hide from me, baby. Let me hear you.”

• You getting bratty — He loves a little challenge. You roll your eyes? He’ll have you begging in five minutes.

• Dry humping while fully clothed — There’s something about the friction, the teasing, the way you grind on him with all your clothes still on. Torture — delicious torture.

• Your hands clutching at him — His hair, his back, his shirt — any desperate grab is rewarded with a deeper thrust and a dark chuckle.

Seungmin's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Matching socks — You didn’t even do it on purpose, but when he notices? He files it under “reasons we should live together forever.”

• You roasting him back — He teases. You tease back. He gets fake-offended, but secretly he’s thrilled you can keep up.

• Your sleepy voice when you first wake up — It’s all raspy and soft and makes his heart clench and pants tighten.

• When you instinctively reach for his hand in public — He won’t say anything, but his thumb will rub slow circles over your knuckles for the rest of the walk.

• The way you fold his laundry without being asked — Domestic acts of love? They hit him right in the chest. And yeah, he absolutely rewards you later.

Jeongin's Sexual Turn-Ons:

• Innocent-looking lingerie — White lace, pastel sets, anything that looks soft and sweet? He’s drooling. The contrast between how you look and how filthy you get wrecks him.

• Topping from the bottom — You whine, “Please, Inn-ie,” while guiding his hands exactly where you want them? He shudders. Thinks about it for days.

• Being called “baby boy” during soft dom moments — It flips a switch in him. His eyes go wide, ears go red, and his hips start stuttering.

• When you gasp his name during foreplay — Not loud, not forced — just a soft, needy “Innie…” and he’s already tugging his shirt off.

• Your thighs wrapped around his waist — He holds on tighter, thrusts deeper, and kisses you like he’s starved.

Jeongin's Non-Sexual Turn-Ons:

• You being confident in yourself — Whether it’s how you dress, speak, or carry yourself, he looks at you like you hung the moon. “Damn. That’s my girl.”

• Cuddling while watching cartoons together — You fall asleep on his chest mid-episode? He’s not moving for hours.

• The way you baby him when he’s stressed — You stroke his hair, call him sweet names, kiss his forehead. He won’t admit it, but it makes him feel safe.

• You sharing your hoodie with him — Bonus if it smells like you. Double bonus if it’s oversized and he drowns in it.

• When you compliment his voice — Whether he’s singing or talking, your compliments make him shy — but they also make him want to sing you to sleep that night.

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @vampzity @sooniedoongiedori25 @mhluvie @yaorzu-blog @lze325 @felixleftchickennugget @m-325 @lezleeferguson-120 @psychicyouthfox @pixie-felix @angel-writes-here @heechwe @galaxy4489 @minniesverse @gncbnahc

(I'M STILL ADDING PEOPLE TO TAG! comment on any post, send an ask or a message if you want added!)

2K notes · View notes

likeafeverrr · 29 days ago

Text

CLEAN UP ON AISLE, MY PANTS!

WC ~600

lee heeseung x fem!reader

Warnings: lowk perv hee... js a lot pf smut, implied pnv (WRAP IT UP!), lowk dry humping, pet names (i think), i most likely forgot some stuff...

a/n: i kinda hate this, i js rlly miss heeseung... ALSO THIS ISNT PROOF READ I PROBABLY MADE SO MANY TYPOS

gooner roommate!heeseung who seems to be a loser but is actually the biggest freak known to man

gooner roommate!heeseung who sits in his room all day. you assume he’s playing some stupid game but he’s most likely getting himself off to one of your instagram posts of you in a itzy bitzy bikini

gooner roommate!heeseung who has folders upon folders of porn. either it’s girld that remind him of you, or its stuff he’d like to do with (to) you.

gooner roommate!heeseung who has a countless amount of your panties stuffed in a little box under his bed. he sprayed them all with your favourite perfume so they smell like you.

gooner roommate!heeseung who yes, is a freak that absolutely needs to be inside you, is also respectful as hell and will only do things with you (if he ever works up the courage to ask) if you give him the clearest of the clear okay

gooner roommate!heeseung who came home from one of his night classes to you crying in the living room of your shared apartment.

gooner roommate!heeseung who makes you a bowl of ramen and sits you down in his bed as you tell him about your stupid boyfriend and how he’s been cheating on you for months

gooner roommate!heeseung who wipes your tears as he tells you how perfect you are and that your (now ex) boyfriend was always an asshole and never deserved you

gooner roommate!heeseung who got off that night to the image of you crying in his bed as he comforted you. he can’t help but imagine what you would look like crying beneath him

gooner roommate!heeseung who did his best to distract you from your messy breakup. from teaching you how to play call of duty, to telling you about this new anime he’s been watching.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s let you fall asleep in his arms almost every night, waking up with a hard on that becomes increasingly painful every day.

gooner roommate!heeseung who lets you sit in his room as he’s on call with his friends while playing video games. he checks over his shoulder every 5 minutes to make sure you’re okay.

gooner roommate!heeseung who goes afk for 20 minutes as you tuck yourself into his bed, trying your best to get him to leave the game and come lay beside you

gooner roommate!heeseung who somehow convinces you to sit on his lap as he’s plays his game, your lets straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck as one hand scratches the back of his head.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s absolutely unashamed of how hard hes become just by having you close to him

gooner roommate!heeseung who grips your hip with one hand, massaging small circles into one of the dips.

gooner roommate!heeseung that immediately stops whatever game he’s playing when he hears your small, pathetic whimper, calling his name in your sleepy and horny state.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s let doesn’t waste a second taking off his headphones and crashing his lips onto yours, his hands immediately travelling under your shirt to grip your breasts.

gooner roommate!heeseung who’s watched so many videos of this exact scenario, imagining it was you on his lap, calling his name, making you fall apart.

gooner roommate!heeseung who disregards all your clothes and wastes no time slipping his surprisingly hung cock into your drenched pussy.

gooner roommate!heeseung who fucks you so hard and tells you about how many times he’s thought about this, how many times he’s gotten off to your voice, how many times he’s almost bent you over nearly every possible surface and just taken you right then and there

gooner roommate!heeseung who literally fucks you for hours. you’re crying, shaking, overstimulated out of your mind. you can’t form any coherent thoughts. you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve came, how many times he’s came inside you. you’re absolutely wrecked. and he has absolutely zero plans on stopping.

“y- you’re so good baby~ so good… ngh f- oh fuck i love this pussy s’much… love you s’much baby…”

#lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung x you #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours

1K notes · View notes

superhoeva · 2 months ago

Note

i think we need to make jack abbot the nastiest freak in the entire world

𝐣. 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭 – 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; +𝟏𝟖) | this got out of hand. god forgive me. warnings are that this is all porn and no plot, very gross, language, dirty talk, lots of bodily fluids, squirting (!), pussy slapping, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving), 69, overstimulation, jack being the "nastiest freak in the entire world, very very mention of robby x reader (literally a sentence). minors dni!

“Now, what’s this here all about? S’pose to be watching a movie and you’re too busy soaking my favorite panties…”

Jack mumbles the accusation like he hasn’t been snogging at a spot just below your ear, and pressing at your clit for the past twenty minutes. No matter how sweet you whine or gentle you squirm, he’s got you trapped atop the mattress, hand between your legs while his other arm hooks around your shoulders to keep you still.

“Fuck the movie,” you groan out, finally finding the room to grind your hips into where his fingers have slipped past the waistband of your shorts and underwear. You aren’t allowed very long to sit in the warm pulse as it spreads, Jack rescinding the pressure the pinch lightly at you swelling pearl. “Ah.”

The man chuckles at your squeal, tongue flicking the shell of your ear before dragging down to lap at your neck. He sucks in a hiss after a few licks, not noticing the hand you're snaking to the thick bulge at the crotch of his sweatpants until you squeeze the girth and release a breathy moan.

He tilts his head so he can look you in the eyes as your hand drags up and down, gripping him. You both hold the stare, hot and unafraid, just as Jack’s tongue snakes back out of his mouth and licks a long swipe across your bottom lip. He doesn’t stop until your mouth is slick with his spit before his lids finally shut so he can focus on curling his tongue to rake against yours. Jack sucks, consuming you, bucking into your palm.

“Grab the towel, baby,” Jack huffs, barely pulling away to give the soft command. He kisses where your eyebrows pull together with an entertained smile, nodding his head to the edge of the mattress.

Swiveling your head, there it is. The towel, folded up tight and waiting patiently. You turn back to Jack with blinking eyes, who’s still grinning at you. A few thick beats of silence pass before you grin back, pecking his chin and reaching for the fabric.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to get you settled. All he lets you do is watch as he diligently spreads the towel and moves the pillows, shifting on his side and patting the bed when he’s finally satisfied. “C’mere, gorgeous.”

You fit against him easy, and he slides off your shorts with even less trouble.

“Fuck me,” you hear Jack mumble to himself, his hand returning to your center and finding that you’ve completely ruined the thin layer of material. “Jesus, look at all that.”

Head against the pillows, you stare and buzz with poorly-concealed anticipation. You’re aching with a muddied throb, clenching around nothing as Jack peels your pantnies from your slit with a measured exhale. He doesn’t even look to see when he throws the garment as you automatically shift and spread your legs. So much for them being his favorite...

“How much you think you got in you tonight?”

Jack’s question is followed by him spitting at his fingers, and the sight of him freezes you into silence. His chest and biceps puff proudly in the simple t-shirt he’s sporting, a vein stretches up his neck like lighting, and his eyes are determined yet overcast with a haze of fervor. You swallow at his build, peeking down to catch a glimpse of where his cock sits completely solid and visible through the groin of his sweats.

You know better than to reach for it now, but it doesn’t make the desire any less compelling. Head flooding with the image of his tip angry and leaking, shaft twitching at it pulses out a load, an involuntary whimper forces itself out of you.

“What was that?” Jack asks you, stare twinkling with satisfaction when your delayed response is interrupted by a silent scream. He studies you, tongue peeking out of his mouth while he slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you.

Your chest heaves when he immediately curls until the pads of his fingers knock right across your g-spot. You gasp, already arching from the bed as Jack massages the location with heavy strokes, thumb angling to frame steady circles around your clit. He pairs all of this with a dipping of his head to suck where your nipples pebble through your tank.

Not one care in the world does he give to the wet patches he’s forming across your shirt. His teeth nip at your bust, and your chest hums with a dizzying thrum. His fingers continue to work you, your pussy strangling their thickness as Jack increases the speed with a grunt into your still-covered tits.

“Am I hittin’ that spot, baby? Did I find it?”

Fuck Jack because he already knows the answer to that question, but also Fuck, Jack because he keeps the pump of his fingers at a perfect tilt, his thumb hasn’t stopped its kneading of you either, and you’re damn near tears.

The electric feeling rooted just below your belly is blooming something profound. It sweeps across you, numbing out Jack’s groans and the squelches that sound every time he drives deeper inside you. You’ve oozed out a mess out along his fingers and palm, and you sniffle when a familiar urge starts its overtaking of you.

Jack drags his mouth back near yours, mumbling through the kisses he plants at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you? Keep choking my fingers, just like that.” His demand barely reaches your ears, blood rushing past them and making you feel as if you’re under water.

Gasping in short breaths, you’re no longer able to control the volume of your moans, crying out a string of unintelligible words as your legs begin to shake with a new vigor You aren’t aware you’ve already started to surge, but Jack is well wise to each of the gushes that splash against his hand.

“Thaaat’s it,” Jack observes, biting his lip at your writhing and the blind clutch of his arm while you douse the towel beneath you. “That’s a girl. Keep going for me, alright? You got a few more in you, I know you do.”

Your gripping of the man does nothing to stop the pressure from rolling across you once again. The mewls you release are more slurred than the lasts, pussy pulsing as Jack orchestrates another round of impressive cascades of fluid from your hole. You whine and cry, tears dripping a layer of moisture across your cheeks before a wave of something different cruises over you.

There’s no leaking of liquid from you this time but rather a decorating of his fingers with a creamy mixture that makes Jack's mouth water.

“Christ, look at you,” the man breathes, completely captivated. “Make a man lose his mind with a pussy that leaks like that, baby.”

Jack waits until the meat of your lips stops clenching to drag his fingers out of your hole. He takes his sweet time removing them, making sure to mumble out something about how he isn't quite done with you just yet and you’re levitating.

He maneuvers, shuffling you to lean closer into his side. Your eyes crack open only just, still panting but reaching out for the fingers that had just hauled you across the world and back.

The breath that Jack inhales fills his lungs with a tight heat, staring with hooded lids when you open your mouth and engulf his middle finger. His jaw clenches at how your tongue swirls, cock straining almost painfully where it presses against your thigh.

“You gonna save some for me?”

Jack smirks at your slow nod, whispering out a quick good girl before licking a stripe up his palm. Your eyes stay met the entire time, working in tandem to clean his hand so close that your noses bump a few times. Moans tying together, neither of you stop until his skin only slightly gleams with the reminisce of you.

When his finger slides from your mouth, Jack tugs you in for a wet kiss.

“Sorry about your sheets,” you vocalize between kisses but you pout when he pulls away. He looks over you with squinted eyes, sighing as he returns to a lean on his elbow.

“...you’re joking, right?”

You don’t have enough energy to hide your smile, lips curling into a grin as you stretch your limp legs. You sag closer into Jack’s welcoming side, smile widening when you catch him rolling his eyes.

“Just for that, I should make you wash ‘em,” he deadpans, arm reaching back to fold behind his head. Somehow in your haze, he still looks a dream.

You give yourself a long moment to let your eyes dance across the entirety of him, head lulling away from his chest to get a better look at one spot in particular.

Jack manages to stay silent when you free his thick member from his sweatpants, though a long moan can’t help but seep out when you throw a leg over him and fold at the waist.

Maybe it's the twisting of your tongue around his tip, or the smell of your lingering mess that causes it. He decides it's definitely both plus the way you flip off the shirt he’d dirtied with his spit before bending once again. You fit in not more than two licks across of the veins on the underside of his cock and only pull one grunt from his chest before he tugs you backwards by the waist.

“Jack–”

You can feel his smirk as he drags you until you’re hovering over his face.

“You’re my water, gorgeous… all my fuckin’ air,” he invokes, tongue reaching to kitten lick along your slit. Eyes rolling, Jack sinks you all the way onto his tongue, and groans at your taste. Swallowing whatever his sucking can gather, he partakes in the rare action of letting his eyes shut as he commences his devour of you.

Lips smacking messily, his sounds come out hoarse. They’re broken and nearing a desperation that rolls your stomach nicely. And despite how he’s reducing you back into a shaking mess, you still manage to circle a firm grip around his cock.

A weak thrust of Jack’s hips allows him to pump into your hand and his desired speed while still saving enough space in his head to flick over your clit at a furious pace. It’s when his tongue trades between dunking inside you and trailing back up to sweep at your still sensitive pearl that you flinch.

“Shit,” you declare shakily, hips rising just barely for a second to breathe. Jack just growls and circles his arms around your thighs without enough pressure to lower you back onto his mouth in record speed. “Ja-Jack, wait. I’m close–ah.”

“So am I, so don’t fuckin’ move again,” he grumbles with a slight strain. Sucking messily across your folds and inhaling you with a buried nose, he moves to plant his left foot against the mattress. Whining, you do as he says, remaining cemented to his mouth and slurping at his cock as best you can from when he has you.

You soon find that Jack wasn’t lying when he said he was close, as it only takes a few more short minutes of your sloppy, spit-slick sucking for him to detach from you with a loud groan that’s a mixture of several curses and your name.

“Yeah, right there.” There's a new wobble to his voice when you cup a hand under his balls to give them a gentle squeeze, cheeks hollowing with a little more pressure to really make him really feel it. “Right fucking there.”

You suck until you hear him hiss, pulling off with a pop and licking up the cum from his stomach that had missed your tongue. You end up warm with victory the way Jack has to take five seconds instead of three to catch his breath.

The warmth melts into a blistering heat when Jack regains his head, pulling you to sit up straight and properly ride his face. He helps with the grinding of your hips, one hand one your ass while the other plants onto your waist to guide you. Part of you worries that he isn’t getting enough oxygen with the way his pants have changed to heaves but you don’t dare pull away again.

Your palms find his chest as you approach another edge, mouth parted and voice mewling about how good his tongue feels when it pauses to jerk at your clit. Hips growing a mind of their own, the mattress starts a patterned squeak beneath the both of you as you desperately chase the crest of your peak.

Jack holds you as your vision goes white. You’re unable to breathe as another stream of your juices sloshes out, crashing against Jack’s mouth and face. He moans along with you, gladly swallowing down each drop that has the pleasure of finding his tongue.

With one last splash, you wrench yourself away from his lips and huff. Jack sniffs, not bothering to wipe his face before he kisses along the swell of your ass. Stubble scratching across your skin, he eyes your syrupy hole and grins to himself silently.

Three times is nothing to hang his head at, not with the way you were slurring out his name… even if he did miss Robby's record with you by two.

#jack abbot smut #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x you #dr abbot smut #dr abbot x reader #dr abbot x you #jack abbot #dr abbot #the pitt x reader #the pitt x you #the pitt fic #the pitt #the pitt hbo #shawn hatosy #sorry if there are typos or run-ons #fuck u tumblr for making me edit this twice

2K notes · View notes

lostalioth · 10 months ago

Text

𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫

→ premise: sometimes logan’s age showed more than it normally would and so just once you called him an old man, affectionally of course. Well he was determined to show you he wasn’t one.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, nicknames [baby, sweet girl, princess], daddy kink, both reader and logan use old man as a nickname, oral [f receiving], unprotected sex, established relationship, slight overstimulation.

→ a/n: the pictures/moodborad above are purely for vibes :) you can imagine any logan pretty much for this fic i think. this is mt first time writing logan so sorry if hes out of character and sorry for any mistakes this was written and proof read at 1am.

Logan wasn’t the type of man to be insecure about his age, his body and face didn’t necessarily show it like how it did on others obviously. He was well aware he was way older than you, he was much older than most people. His age showed more with his taste in music and movies, even in some of the outdated slang he frequently used.

You were currently laid up in your shared bed with Logan. You loved being curled up in his lap, your head resting on his chest cuddled up against him. A cigar nestled between Logan's lips, him periodically puffing out smoke. One of his arms lazily resting over your body holding you against him. An older movie was playing on the tv in the background, the volume was high enough for you to hear it, however you could hardly pay attention. Your mind was too lost in how domestic and old timey it all was, the feeling making your heart flutter.

“You know this was my favorite movie, well one of 'em used to watch it all the time” Logan's gruff voice breaks you from your train of thought.

You look up at your boyfriend and smile softly, his gaze fixated on the black and white images flashing across the screen. You chuckle softly and reach up towards his neck to thread your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. An action that Logan has come to love and even crave on the days when life gets just a little too much.

“You're such an old man” your voice breaks his focus , it was teasing and full of affection as you said it. Logan could clearly hear it, and your statement was correct and didn't bother him, however he couldn't help the little plan forming in his head to mess with you. Shaking your head lightly you turn your attention back on the television.

“Ya’ wanna say that again sweet girl?” He leans his head down, all his attention now glued to you. His words came out almost mockingly instantly making your gaze snap back up to him. He grabs ahold of your chin so that your focus and your eyes stay on him. You knew that teasing tone of voice like the back of your hand by now and what it meant. It made the flutter in your heart drop to your stomach, his arm that was wrapped around your body tightens. You can feel him starting to grow harder against your thigh, making you squirm a bit in his grasp. You swallow hard, your voice suddenly caught in your throat. Logan watches as your pupils dilate and that sweet smell that he's become addicted to fills his nose, giving away your own growing arousal.

“Cause i'm thinkin’ you just called me old princess” He cocks his head to the side in a teasing manner, his lips breaking out in a smirk. Still not being able to find your words you shake your head ‘no’ causing him to chuckle deeply. “No? cause i think ya’ did baby, yeah i think you called me an old man” His words come out in almost a growl as he leans forward, pushing you down on your back. His body now perfectly nestled between your legs as he hovers over you, pinning you down with his weight. His large rough hands holding onto your hips, one slowly drifting and pushing up the t-shirt you had on. A t-shirt that looked an awful lot like the one he's been looking for all week.

“Maybe i did.. but you are an actual old man Logan, you’re much older than me baby” Finally finding your voice you attempt to explain yourself, though you knew he wasn't actually upset by your comment. His strained cock pressed against your clothed cunt being more than an indication of that. Your damp panties and his jeans doing nothing to stop him from feeling the way your pussy was throbbing already from his teasing.

“Yea? Well ima show you just what this old man can do huh” He questioned, barely giving you a moment to answer. Wasting no time he has your shirt pushed up revealing your bare tits and his other hand pulling your panties down your legs. Sliding down your body and the bed he slowly kisses down your exposed chest and stomach until his head has made it between your spread thighs. “Logan..” you whine softly, your eyes glued to his every move as you grow more impatient. A rush of cold air hits your lower half when he finally rids you of your soaked underwear.

That damn smirk not wavering from his face as he grabs ahold of your thighs and nearly growls when his tongue finally laps at your pussy. “Fuck i dont think i’ll ever get over just how fuckin’ good you taste baby” his words come out a bit mumbled as his face is buried between your folds. “Lo..” you whine in embarrassment at his statement. Your slick had coated his face in seconds, though it was clear he could care less, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Even biting the nub softly causing your hips to buck up against his face, his scruffy facial hair rubbing your inner thighs. He groans against you and grips your legs tighter pulling you closer to his mouth.

“Daddy…fuck!” You gasp softly and moan at the sensation and tighten your thighs around his head, Logan's favorite thing was to feel your plush thighs squeeze his head. His adamantium skull being able to take the pressure. You can feel him smile against you at both the name and the action. “Atta girl, princess. Such a good girl for ya’ old man” he praises, his deep voice vibrating through your body.

Letting your clit go Logan pulls away for a moment, dropping his grip on one of your thighs as well to bring his hand and spread apart your lips. Leaning his head back a bit he spits on your pussy, his saliva sliding down to your throbbing hole. “Fuck she always looks so pretty sweet girl” he hums in approaval and admiration at your pussy. His eyes finally lift back up to your face, he takes note of your already blissed out look. “No cuming til I tell you baby, ya’ got it?” He questions, a small smile on his face that was covered in you.

“Yes daddy” you whine, your voice coming out a bit soft as you were taking the time he was giving you to catch your breath.

With a small smack to the side of your ass he dives his head back down, sticking his tongue out flat and licking a strip up the center of your cunt. Growling and burying his face between your legs again he laps and sucks at your clit and folds. Your hips having a mind of their own buck up against his mouth, nearly riding his face. His hips rutting up against the bed of their own accord as well, his precum now leaking through his boxers a bit. His cock straining against his jeans as wonton moans and whimpers leave your lips. Your eyes screwing shut in pleasure as his tongue every now and then pushes inside you and his nose nudges your swollen nub.

You could feel your climax quickly approaching, pushing your fingers through Logan's signature tufts of hair and pulling his face closer. “Fuck- Lo…Daddy please” you moan out pleading with your boyfriend to let you cum. He squeezed your thigh and groaned roughly against you, you knew that was his way of saying ‘not yet’. You whine and tug harder on his hair causing him to let out a small muffled moan. He pulls his face away a bit and with his hand that wasn't squeezing your leg he slips two fingers through your lips, collecting his spit and your slick together. Continuing his attack on your nearly now oversensitive clit he slides his thick soaked fingers inside you stretching you slowly. The rough pads of them instantly finding that spot deep inside you.

“Daddy I don't- uh shit! I don't know how much longer I can hold on, please Logannn!” You moan and whine out his name as your hips thrust back against his skilled fingers and rut against his face. Your high teetering on the edge as you try your hardest to hold it back. “Cum baby, cum on daddy's face princess” he commands and in an instant your body responds and allows your climax to hit you head on.

A string of curses leave Logan's lips as he laps at your cum as it leaks out of you, broken whines and small moans leave yours as he draws out your climax a bit longer. Finally emerging from between your legs, his lips swollen and pink, the whole lower half of his face covered in yours and his combined mess. Heat floods your face a bit at the sight, though your boyfriends still got that smirk glued to his pretty face. The dynamic of you being nearly entirely naked and him still entirely clothed caused an ache to settle back in your core as if Logan hadn’t just made you cum.

He makes his way bad up your body, quickly pulling off his shirt as well as finally pulling yours up and over your head, definitely leaving you entirely naked now. Leaning down, pressing his crotch right up against yours, his clothed bulging cock nudging open your wet and sticky folds. His lips hover over yours as his hand slides up your side, the other brushing over your breast before it’s wrapped around your neck and pinning you back against the bed. He squeezes your neck softly making you let out a whimper.

“You were saying baby?” His voice comes out deep and a bit hoarse as he questions your previous comment again. “Not callin’ me an old man now are ya’ sweet girl, noo cause you cant even talk” he mocks, a small smile on his face as he rocks his hips up against your pussy, the rough material of his jeans stimulating your abused bundle of nerves setting it off again. Your slick creates a wet spot on his jeans the more he grinds his dick against you.

“Won’t do it again i swear daddy, you're not an old man” you whimper softly as your hands grab at his arms and hands, your fingers rubbing at his knuckles where his claws rip through the skin. When his fly zipper brushes your clit you let out a short moan and move to grab at the waist of his jeans tugging, trying to get him to take them off. Tears lightly coat your eyelashes as you bat them at Logan. He scoffs softly and shakes his head at you as he lets go of your neck to undo his belt and the buttons to his jeans, pulling off his belt and jeans. You watch with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes, your chest heaving in impatience, hands wandering his body and rubbing over his muscly arms and board chest. He tugs his boxers down his thighs as he grabs your legs, wrapping your thighs around his waist. His tip leaking precum is redden and twitching as he rubs it through your lips before pushing at your hole.

“Come on princess, apologize for it” he goes painfully slow as he pushes inside you. “Apologize nicely for calling daddy an old man” he grins and brings his hand up to your boob, brushing his rough thumb over your nipple. You gasp softly and whine, wiggling your hips both in protest and to try and get him inside you faster.

Realizing he won't keep going further til you apologize, you give in. Pulling him down and closer, you wrap your arms around his neck and look into his eyes. “I'm really sorry for calling you an old man Lo, i didn't mean it i promise. You're not an old man daddy” you whine and brush your lips softly against his. “Oh fuck, you’re so sweet on me baby i love it” he growls and thrusts inside you hard as his lips crash against yours. You moan out loudly the sound muffled in Logan's mouth as his hips snap against yours. His cock thrusting deep inside you, hitting that spongy spot making your brain go foggy. Kissing you hard and passionately as his hands roam your body not being able to stop himself from touching you everywhere, you're all his anyway.

“My sweet, sweet princess, takin’ it so good from your old man huh?” He groans and presses his forehead against yours as your hips bounce off his. All you can do is frantically nod and mumble and whine about how good he feels and say yes daddy. Your nails digging into his back and running through his hair.

Logan may be an old man but he was your old man and he definitely didnt fuck like one. He knew how to keep up with his sweet little young girlfriend.

→ a/n: hope you enjoyed my loves, PLEASE SEND ME LOGAN REQUESTS< MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND IM CURRENTLY OBESSED WITH THIS MAN

4K notes · View notes

joonjuul · 4 months ago

Text

play thing. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jk x sleepy!reader

wc: 3k

warnings: desperate!jk, softdom!jk, sleepy!reader, sub!reader, light ddlg themes (if u squint), implied consent, somnophilia, fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), light overstimulation (f receiving), pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it up), pwp lol

a/n: saw another author write something similar to this agessss ago and i’ve been obsessed ever since

╋━

it was one of those nights. one of those nights where your phone mysteriously shut off early, where your eyes felt heavier than normal, where the sweet hum of your blankets and pillows called your name gently, even if it was only 10pm.

since you started dating jungkook, you always felt so busy. it was almost like you were carrying the stress of both his job, and your own, which only meant one thing — you were the most exhausted woman on the planet, and tonight was no exception.

you use your last bit of energy to plug your phone in on the nightstand beside you, turning over and examining the empty side of your shared bed. another wonderful addition to your new life, was still having to sleep alone, despite the fact that you lived with your boyfriend. monday through friday, you always found your routine to be the same, get home from work, make dinner for you and your boyfriend, and head up to your shared room, scrolling until your eyes began to shut before rolling over, jungkook always wandering to his at home studio some time after dinner.

you loved how passionate he was about his work, but it didn’t help the fact that you missed him desperately — his touch, his sweet smile, the small freckle under his lip, the way his hands always instinctively found your waist even within the pitch black night of your room.

he was wonderful, and you adored him, but you couldn’t ignore the loom of desperation that blossomed between your legs as you imagined how he took care of you on the weekends, when his mind wasn’t so preoccupied. his fingers, so skillful and rough, almost as if they memorized your body like a map — every spot that made you writhe beneath him and every crevice of your skin that made your toes curl.

you felt a dampness arise in your panties as your mind wandered, but your tiredness quickly got the best of you, as you eased into a deep sleep — images of your muscular boyfriend hovering above you, his ink splattered arms on either side of your head as he drove into you mercilessly lulling you to sleep.

jungkook however, was only a couple hours into what would be a very sleepless night.

with their comeback approaching, he had been much busier than usual — always winding up in his at home studio after dinner, headphones sat lightly on his head as he’d meticulously arrange every beat and vocal he had prepared during his day at work. he didn’t enjoy it, he’d much rather be with you down the hall, feeling the warmth of your body against his as you both drifted off, but it had become much like a routine, and he was never one to break a good habit, not when they were so close to their scheduled comeback date.

tonight though, was a little different. with every click of a button, every slide of a mouse across the desk, his mind only led back to one thing — you. with his jam packed schedule he had barely left any time to spend with you, and not just that, but also time for your sex life. jungkook was not the type of man to have sex once a week. his body craved you feverishly almost every minute of the day. he went all day craving your touch, and when he finally arrived home and was able to bask in your never ending skin, he felt like all his day’s work was complete. but it would never be enough to satisfy him, and today was one of those days.

he feels his mind begin to wander as he imagines you in bed. he wonders whether or not you’ve fallen asleep yet, which pair of panties you’re wearing, imagining you sprawled out on your bed, shorts riding meticulously high up your ass. and he feels the pressure in his pants begin to worsen.

his eyes glance at the clock. 12:06 am.

he had done enough work today, right? there was always tomorrow, he thought to himself as he took his headphones off, ignoring the tension in his boxers as he stood up from his chair, desperately crossing his fingers that you’re still awake, still conscious so he can fall between your legs and take you like he so hopelessly needs.

his feet carry him to your shared room quickly, his hands wrapping around the doorknob as his eyes quickly fall on your sated body. one leg on either side of the covers as your ass pokes out slightly — barely leaving any room for imagination in one of your cutest pairs of undies.

he lets out a low groan at the sight, his body wandering aimlessly into the room as he gets closer to you. he notices your quiet snores, the way your hair messily spreads across the pillow case, and then he notices something else — a small wet patch outlined in your panties.

jungkook feels his breath hitch in his throat, his eyes zeroing in immediately as he walks closer to the bed, falling to his knees on the covers behind you, but never hard enough to stir you from your sleep.

he gulps, how could you look so perfect ? and why were you so wet ?

his mind swarms with thoughts, his body filled with heat as he wonders if you had touched yourself while he was in the next room, if you craved touch but couldn’t settle for anything less than him. he feels a weight hang on his shoulders, his cock throbbing unbearably in his pants as he feels an overwhelming need for you take over.

without a second thought, his hands fall to the waistband of his sweatpants, quickly pulling them down along with his boxers to reveal his throbbing hard on.

he pumps himself for a moment or two. where does he start? you were sprawled out perfectly on your bed, your cunt obviously ready for him, even if you didn’t know he was there. he halts his movements, still hearing the gentle hum of your snores in the background, and he positions himself between your legs in response, bringing a hand to your panties to pull them aside.

he drags the head of his cock over your folds, relishing in your wetness as he pauses, waiting to feel you stir, hear a whine of concern, but there’s nothing.

he takes your silence as his queue and slowly begins to bury himself into your warmth, your walls stretching to accommodate his size with ease as your body unknowingly lets him in. his breath seizes as he feels your cunt squeeze him deliciously, stifled moans begging to be released as he bottoms out inside you, his head hung low as he tries to catch his breath.

you were so wet, so perfect, and all for him. even in sleep you stayed still and obedient for him, and it was driving him insane.

jungkook begins a tireless pace on your cunt, his thrusts slow and gentle as he feels you tighten around him with every pump of his delicious cock.

he carefully drags the comforter over your back, protecting you from the cold of the night, and hopefully keeping you asleep long enough for him to empty his load inside you. but you were more than perfect, you were irreplaceable. your body subconsciously relaxing deeper as you feel the added warmth to your back, completely unaware of your boyfriend falling apart above you.

with every thrust of his hips he can feel his balls tighten, his body aching for release as his movements begin to quicken, so much so, that he forgets you’re asleep.

mindless praises falling from his lips as he worships you subconsciously, his mind only focused on one thing — you.

“so perfect, baby. my perfect girl.” he lowers himself closer to your body, a hand on either side of your head as his tattooed hand grips the comforter tighter, a coil in his stomach beginning to build as he feels himself drawing closer and closer to the edge.

your dream stutters momentarily, pictures of you and jungkook on a romantic date quickly being brushed away as your mind returns to reality. the first thing you notice isn’t his heavy breathing beside your ear, nor his length stretching your walls deliciously, but the feeling of a tightness within your abdomen.

“mmm.” you moan gently as your body stirs, your eyes fluttering open as they’re consumed with darkness, only a small piece of your boyfriend’s tattooed arm falling in your vision.

“shhh it’s okay, baby.” his sweet voice hums as you finally feel him between your legs, his cock moving feverishly inside you, brushing against your walls perfectly as you let out a loud moan, your wetness only increasing as you grip the sheets beside you.

“kook? f-fuck.”

“shhh, don’t try to talk baby. it’s just me. needed to feel you. go back to bed, sweetheart.” his voice is soft and soothing but the tension in your stomach screams otherwise, your body desperate for release.

he quickly notices your movements, your whines, the way your bum pokes out slightly, begging for more, and he carefully brings a hand down beneath you to your throbbing clit in response.

“there there. this what you wanted sweetheart?” you moan at his words, your legs beginning to shake as you nod your head quickly, the feeling of his fingers circling your clit were almost enough to send you over the edge. but his pace never slows, if anything, his hips quicken as he drives into you mercilessly, thankful that he doesn’t have to hold back now that you’re fully conscious.

“that’s it, good girl.” his words spur you on as he watches you begin to come undone, him easily knowing every spot in your body that gets you going the most. his fingers slowly circle around your clit, your legs shaking slightly as you moan out, loving every movement of his cock inside you. your knuckles are white from gripping at the sheets, your head spinning as you feel like you’re still half unconscious, but jungkook can only think about one thing — the pressure in his balls signaling his closeness.

“cum with me angel, wanna feel you.” his voice is shaky but his hips stay consistent, each thrust building the intensity in your stomach as you feel the coil begin to grow. you were so close, just teetering on the edge of your release, and you knew he was too as his fingers that were once rubbing your clit with calculated movements, were now messy and vigorous. his cock begins to twitch as he feels your walls tense around him as he thrusts deeper, hitting your g-spot so perfectly that it sends you into your climax suddenly.

“f-fuck.” he stutters as he feels you tighten, your moans spiraling through his head as he takes one final plunge inside of you, burying his cum deep within your stomach as he bottoms out.

your breath is heavy as you feel yourself return to reality, the warmth of your boyfriend’s chest against your back bringing you a sense of comfort. god had you missed his touch.

he looks down at his now softening cock as he pulls it out of you, watching a small stream of his juices trickle out of your pulsing hole, collecting it with his fingers before dipping it back inside of you, the sensation making you gasp.

“gotta clean you up, baby.” he rasps, his voice now deeper than normal, whether due to tiredness or the sex you weren’t sure, all you could focus on was his fingers dipping in and out of you gently, moving in circles as his pads brush against your walls. you’re unable to control the low moan that leaves your lips at the feeling.

“sore?” his movements cease as he leans forward to gauge your reaction. but you shake your head in response.

“feels good.” your voice shakes as you begin to move your hips in response to his gentle assault on your cunt, your body writhing against the sheets as it begs for more.

jungkook smirks as he watches how desperate you are, even in such a fucked out state. he must’ve made you wait much longer than he intended.

“sweet girl.” he brings his free hand up to your head as he begins to stroke it calmly, his fingers still moving within you so carefully that you’re not sure whether he’s even trying to turn you on.

his hand falls down to your back, slipping under your shirt as he rubs circles on your hot skin, his hands perfectly calloused from lifting weights that they almost feel rough against you, and it only amplifies everything you’re feeling.

“kook, please.” you whimper, your tone much softer than you’d intended. his touch was driving you crazy, everything about him, you must’ve been ovulating with the way you felt everything so intensely.

“hmm? what is it, baby? what does my sweet girl want?” he hums, his fingers curling inside of you as he watches you begin to squirm, the crooked smile never leaving his face. he knew exactly what he was doing.

you groan, completely burnt out from his teasing. “more kook.”

he quirks a brow, his fingers curling again as he brings his free hand down to your bum, massaging your cheeks gently.

“more? what more could you want? i’m just cleaning you up, baby.”

you groan again, now fully irritated as you kick your legs slightly in annoyance, turning your head over your shoulder to see the wicked grin plastered to his lips.

“pleaseeeee.” you whine, rutting your hips in an attempt to feel more of him. his grip on your ass tightens but his fingers continue to move gently inside of you.

“behave, sweetheart. just relax, i’m right here. you know i always take care of you, right?” his pace begins to quicken but never lose their gentle feel, still carefully dragging every inch of your walls, and curling up into your g-spot perfectly.

“f-fuck, kook.” you moan out, whether from the gentle overstimulation of his fingers inside you, or the way he carefully caressed your back, everything was too much yet not enough at the same time. you were obsessed with him, with the way he made you feel — how he was so rough yet touched you so sweetly, how he dragged the pads of his fingers against your walls, the hushed praises falling from his lips… he was simply too much to bare.

“there you go, that’s my girl.” he watches intently as you move your hips in synchronization with him, your body melting into his every touch as what was meant to be him riding you off your high, turned into something entirely different.

he leans down into your ear, bringing his hand that was on your back up to your neck as he carefully pulls your hair aside, peppering kisses along your damp skin, only building the intensity within you.

his lips stall as he licks a stripe up your neck, stopping by your ear to pull it into his teeth with ease, only nibbling it for a second before releasing it and watching as you fall apart beneath him.

“ughhh” you bury your face into your pillow, completely overwhelmed with pleasure as he continues his ministrations on your already tired cunt.

“words, baby.”

you groan at his response, unsure of how to put your emotions into words, but he’s unsatisfied with your reply — quickly bringing his once gentle hand on your hair back down to your waist and flipping you over with ease, plunging his fingers back into you once your eyes have met one another.

“speak up.” he demands, his voice now filled with lust.

you moan out at the sudden harshness of his movements, cowering under his intense gaze.

“just - ahh - just want you kook.”

he flashes a crooked smile at you, leaning back down into the bareness of your neck.

“you have me, baby. i’m all yours.” his voice a hushed, seductive whisper as he begins assault your neck, his fingers never ceasing.

the feeling is almost unbearable, the coil in your stomach quickly returning with every perfect curl of his fingers and lap of his tongue against your hot skin.

you were a mess — writhing, legs shaking, hands clawing at any part of his body you could use to stabilize yourself, but it was not nearly enough to bring you off the edge that was only drawing nearer.

“close.” you whimper, your knees threatening to clamp shut on his hand until he quickly pins them down, holding you in place and directing his gaze onto your sopping cunt. he wanted to see it all. not just the way you tightened around him, or the way you gushed all the way down his knuckles, but the way you pushed out his seed in the process. he wanted to see it all.

“cum, baby. such a perfect girl, all for me. let me see you cum.” and with a final curl of his fingers, you were sent soaring back over your high. even if it wasn’t as strong as the first, it was just as passionate, if not more. the way his eyes were fixed on your center drove you crazy, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect lips, he was pure sex.

your eyes fluttered shut, your body unable to process what had happened, but you could faintly feel him removing his fingers and placing gentle kisses on your legs, your skin covered in goosebumps for as far as the eye could see.

“good girl, you did such a good job, angel.” you hear his gentle praises as he begins to clean you up properly, admiring the mess you made of your shared bed.

you wish you could respond, you with you could thank him, but your mind had already drifted off into a slow, deliberate sleep — one deeper than you could’ve ever imagined you’d be receiving tonight.

if you thought you were exhausted before, it was nothing compared to the state of you now.

#bts smut #bts #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook

2K notes · View notes

blurrwithinternetaccess · 20 days ago

Text

i have absolutely no regrets im cringe and im free

#blurr kinnie #fictionfolk #<-the image mentions fictionfolk in it w text that says “fictionfolk and proud”#picmix #glitter gif #blurr #tfa blurr #sanrio #kuromi #my melody #lloromannic #<- a few others but they dont have as many images #macaddam #yeah the tf tag has to see this shit #cringe and free #im cringe and im free #gif #eyestrain #overstimulating image warning

4 notes · View notes

s0dium · 1 year ago

Text

Needy

Pervert!Yuuta x Reader

Synopsis: Yuuta has avoided the touch of women for years due to having a homicidal jealous curse attached to him. Hell, he has even avoided touching himself. But something happens that makes him break

Warning: Male masturbation, pillow humping, edging, mentions of breeding, pining

Pt.2

Having a homicidal jealous curse attached to you 24/7 that threatens to murder any woman that comes close to you, changes a man.

In Yuuta's case that meant that sex was out of the question. In fact, everything involving the slightest bit of physical intimacy was out of the question. Handshake? Yuuta would rather not risk it. Hugging? Sure if you wanted to get your head chopped off. Even when Yuuta joined Jujutsu High and became able to control Rika better, his ways of avoiding women had already been so ingrained into him, that any kind of intimacy was just foreign to him.

This didn't mean the Yuuta didn't think about it. He even indulged in the small things, like replaying the sex scene in a movie or eying the women in Todo's magazines he would bring on occasion. But that wasn't enough to quell the thrumming in his head or the whisper in the back of his mind craving more. Yuuta truly thought he could ignore it all though, that is, until he met you.

At first, it was easy for him to treat you as nothing more than a friend, a classmate. He could ignore how peculiarly beautiful and kind you were. He could brush off how your witty remarks during tough missions always made him laugh, and how the light, airy giggles that escaped your mouth when Yuuta did something unintentionally funny made butterflies swarm in his stomach. Then summer rolled around, and you started wearing more revealing clothes—short skirts and tights instead of long pants, which were apparently "easier to train in" you told him.

And it was only when you innocently bent over to pick something up one afternoon, when Yuuta accidentally caught a glimpse of your white underwear that dug into the fat of your plump butt, that the dam finally broke. When you turned around to bashfully apologize for accidentally flashing him, Yuuta was already gone. Unbeknownst to you, he had fled to his dorm room, struggling to hide his painfully hard dick in his pants.

Yuuta barely makes it to his bed before he is pulling down his black uniform pants and wrapping a shaky hand around his thick cock. He's not an idiot, he knows how to jack off, but there is something different right now. When in the past the few times he touched himself was to quickly get rid of arousal, now Yuuta finds himself yearning for something more.

He slowly drags his hand down his shaft and the satisfaction is immediate: just one stroke sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through his entire body. The pleasure is mind-numbing, and just a taste of it has him yearning for more.

“Oh fuh-“ Yuuta's voice comes out breathless. He screws his eyes shut and darts a tongue across his lips to wet them. Almost immediately his mind wonders back to you, how delicious your ass looked, how beautiful you are, how beautiful you would be with your lips wrapped around his dick. How would your breasts feel in his palm? What would your face look like if he tweaked and sucked on your nipples? God, what would your pussy feel like.

Pap pap. Yuuta was starting to create a semi fast rhythm, white precum collecting in the spaces of his fingers as he furiously glided his tight grip up and down his dick. He doesn't just want to think about you; he wants to obsess over you. He doesn't just want to feel pleasure; he wants to drown in it. No, he wants to drown in you.

He's practically panting right now imaging himself inside you. If he felt good right now, how good would the real thing be? Oh he bet the squeeze around his dick would be delicious, he can practically hear you whining his name. Yuuta's legs trembled as his hand gilded over his overstimulated red tip and down to his heavy balls. Jesus this was good, so good, he needed more, Yuuta needed more friction because god if he couldn't have your pussy right now he at least needed to pretend.

Through heavy pleasure-filled lidded eyes, he glanced to the pillow next time him.

He was becoming greedy.

Fuck it.

Without much of a thought, Yuuta grabbed the pillow, folded it in half, laid on his side, hastily put his dick between the white cloth, and started to thrust. The friction is delicious. It makes his toes curl and desperately thrusts his hips into the soft pillow.

“Mmmm, mmm mhm” he whimpers. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can barely speak so much as think. There’s a tingly warm feeling building in his stomach, the pleasure is overtaking him. What would you think if you could see him like this? Would you call him a pervert or maybe would you help him? Oh, what a dream that would be, your soft hands wrapped around him, oh he bet that you could make him feel better than this pillow ever could.

“Ah-Ah Y/n please….” The thought of you is consuming him, you don’t know it but you are giving him the best pleasure he has ever experienced in his life. Yuutas thrusts are becoming frantic, desperate, he could taste his release on the tip of his tongue. His black hair is starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat and he realized he should have taken off his white uniform coat because it was getting so hot. He was so close, so close to cumming, he hates how this pillow isnt you, isn't your pussy, after this, he promises to himself that he won't ignore you or your beauty anymore, he’ll obsess over you, kiss the ground you walk on, he’ll take care of you so good and -and oh, oh my god, he wants to breed you, fill you with cum-

“Ah-ahhh~”

Yuuta’s hips stutter into the pillow and thick ropes of cum coat the fabric. The pleasure makes his legs and mind go numb and he’s left panting, whimpering from the after shocks.

No, after this Yuuta will never avoid you again.

#yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen yuuta #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen fanfic

13K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 5 months ago

Text

“you know what else is pink?”

WARNINGS: roomate!jihoon, smut, ...pink cock, blowjob/handjob, penetrative sex, squirt, overstimulation.

WC: 2.7K

[got inspiration from this tiktok]

jihoon’s got this routine down, locked in. you hear the clatter of keys in the door at exactly 9:17 PM, every night without fail. he comes in smelling like roasted coffee beans and vanilla syrup, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and—of course—that little paper cup in hand as he kicked the door shut behind him with that little flick of his heel.

“got your poison,” he says, tossing the pink monstrosity onto the table in front of you. It lands with a soft thunk, condensation already forming on the sides, and the sight alone is enough to make you grin like a damn idiot.

“thanks, hoon,” you say, grabbing it immediately and taking a sip like you haven’t had this exact drink every day for months. it’s sweet as hell, tastes like summer and cavities, but you can’t help it. you’re obsessed.

jihoon just shrugs like it’s nothing—like he didn’t go out of his way to snag this for you, again.

he chuckles, already moving toward the bathroom while shrugging off his jacket. “you know what else is pink?”

your brain short-circuits. immediately. you blink up at him like he’s just asked you to solve the riddle of the sphinx.

“h-hm?”

he pauses, halfway out of his jacket, and tilts his head back to look at you. a mischievous little smirk stretches across his face, his pearly-ass veneers catching the shitty overhead lighting.

“huh?” jihoon mirrored you, raising his eyebrows all innocent.

you’re left thinking about his elbows now, how they’re faintly pink at the joints, a soft flush that spreads to his cheeks when it’s too hot in the apartment. his knees, the curve of them when he sits cross-legged on the couch watching anime. the way his nipples—god, why are you thinking about his nipples—stand out when he’s shirtless, all pale skin and rosy peaks.

and yeah, okay. you know exactly what he meant.

the “pink drink” sat in your hand, cold and totally innocent, unlike the mental image now burning in your skull.

[...]

the sound of him moving around in the bedroom after his shower is, like, a damn magnet pulling you in. you’ve been pacing the kitchen like a lunatic, the pink frappuccino now safely tucked away in the fridge because there’s no way in hell you’re gonna stomach all that milk with what you’re about to do. your heart’s doing that stupid fast thing, but you’re already walking down the hallway, bare feet quiet against the floor.

the bedroom door is cracked open, and you catch him just as he’s hanging his towel up. his back’s to you, but even from here, you can see how his shoulders move when he stretches, pale skin almost glowing under the shitty warm light of the bedroom. and those shorts are barely covering anything, and his legs look even paler against the fabric.

he runs both hands through his wet hair, brushing it back in that way that makes it stick up all messy, and for a second, you just stand there leaning against the wall beside the door, arms crossed, watching him like a creep. your bottom lip tugs between your teeth as you try to psych yourself up, but nah, fuck it, you’re already moving. you push off the wall and walk straight up to him. he doesn’t even have time to turn around fully before your hands are on him, shoving his chest hard enough that he stumbles backward.

“yo—” he starts, but his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he sits down with a soft oof, bracing himself on his elbows.

his eyes snap up to meet yours, wide. “what’s this about?”

you step closer, standing between his knees, grabbing his chin with your fingers to tilt his head up.

“oh?” he breathes out, his smirk faltering just a bit when your thumb brushes over his bottom lip.

“yeah. oh,” you shoot back, your voice sharper than the shaky confidence you’re working with. you sink to your knees in front of him, your hands trailing down his torso, the little bodyhairs raising up to meet your palm, fingers dragging over that pale skin. his breath catches, and he shifts, spreading his legs just enough for you to settle between them.

you tug at the waistband of those godforsaken shorts, sliding them down. and there it is, the very thing he hinted at earlier—exactly like you knew he’d be, flushed and already half-hard, the head its almost the same shade of your drink, but more human-skin-like, and fuck, you're probably going to think about it everytime he hands you the drink. his breath hitches again when your hand wraps around him.

“what’s wrong?” you tease, tilting your head, your thumb swiping over the tip to smear the bead of wetness there.

“ah-ah-shit—” he mutters, his voice strained. you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his hip bone, then lower, leaving a trail of warmth as your lips move closer.

he lets out this shaky little laugh, but it breaks off into a hiss when you lean in, your lips brushing over the tip, like you're about to taste it, before wrapping around him completely. his lungs get full of air before moaning all way in while he exhales and you swear you’ve never felt more smug in your life.

his hand comes up to cover his mouth, like he’s trying to muffle the sounds spilling out of him, but it’s useless. the little gasps, the way his voice breaks on your name—it’s making you swallow him in.

your hand moves in partnership with your mouth, stroking him in time with the way your tongue works over every inch of him. when you glance up, his head is tipped back, eyes half-closed, lips parted, and he looks like he is winning a bliss.

“you’re so fucking—good” he stammers, his voice cracking halfway through. “holy shit, keep—keep going.”

you don’t stop, not even when his thighs start trembling under your hands, not even when he’s biting down on his knuckles to keep himself from being too loud.

you hollow your cheeks as you pull back, dragging your lips over him until you reach the tip with a wet, obscene pop.

“jesus fucking—” he chokes out, but his words cut off when you lower your head, tongue dragging along the sensitive seam of his sack like you’re savoring it. you can feel the way his thighs tense on your sides, trembling like he’s caught between pulling away and leaning into you.

your hand is still wrapped around him, firm that his cockhead gets red, keeping that steady rhythm while your tongue works over the delicate skin below.

he lifts his head to look down at you, his lips parted in disbelief, sweat glistening on his forehead. “you—what the fuck are you doing?”

“what’s it look like?” you quip back, grinning up at him before wrapping your lips around his balls again, taking one side into your mouth gently. his reaction is instant—his hips roll under your mouth, and his eyes, roll back.

“this is—holy shit—this is fucked up.”

you hum around him, taking your time, switching to the other side, your tongue lavishing the sensitive skin as you work him over. “fucked up?” you echo between breaths, lips brushing against him. “sounds like youre enjoying it.”

his hand flies up to cover his face, fingers digging into his own hair. he groans, his hips betraying him, twitching toward your mouth like he’s chasing the feeling.

you lean back in, your mouth hot and wet against his cock again, taking him deeper this time, your tongue tracing patterns as you move.

“fuck—fuck—you’re gonna—” his eyes squeeze shut as he lets grits his teeth, failing to hold his whimpers, spilling over himself and inside your mouth.

you don’t stop until you’re sure he’s ridden it out completely, pulling back slowly, your lips slick and swollen, jaw aching, as you wipe your mouth with your thumb.

“you okay there?”

“i don’t think okay covers it...” he grimaces.

“guess i’ll take that as a compliment.”

“you should.” he says, his lips quirking into the faintest smile.

he tilts his head back, his eyes hooded and his lips curling into a lazy smirk as he lifts his hand, tapping his thigh in that slow, cocky way he knows you can’t resist. “c’mere”

you hesitate, for a second, before standing and moving toward him. his gaze stays locked on you, and you feel the weight of it like a physical thing. as you straddle his lap, your dress rides up, pooling around your hips, and his hands are already on you, one gripping your waist while the other skims up your thigh.

he pulls you closer, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. when his tongue drags along your bottom lip, tasting the faint saltiness of himself there, he lets out an obscene groan.

“you taste like me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your mouth before he licks along your lip again, slower this time. his teeth catch the tender skin, biting just enough to sting before he pulls back, tugging your lip between his teeth with a smirk.

your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself as his hand slides lower, over the curve of your ass, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp. “been waiting all night to do this,” he mutters, as his fingers dip under the hem of your dress.

before you can process what’s happening, he hooks a finger under the side of your panties, tugging sharply until the fabric tears with a quiet rip. you feel the ruined cloth hanging loosely against your skin as his fingers brush over the now-bare flesh.

you open your mouth to protest—something about him owing you a new pair—but the words die in your throat when you see him lift his hand to his mouth, his tongue dragging along the length of his fingers.

the sight alone has your breath hitching, your thighs twitching around his. he catches the movement, his smirk widening as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, his free hand squeezing your waist as his other hand trails back down.

when his fingers meet your drenched cunt, he spreads the wetness, the wet noise that follows making your cheeks flush even as your body leans into his touch. he circles sensitive hole at your center, and he chuckles low in his throat when you let out a shaky breath.

“you’re already so wet.”

he shifts under you, leaning back as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly to see if his cock hardens again. his jaw tightens, a sharp exhale slipping past his lips as his head tips back. “shit,” he mutters, eyes fluttering shut for a second before they snap open to find you, perched right there on his thighs, looking like a fucking fever dream. “of course, it’s you. of course it works.”

and yeah, you don’t really get what he means by that, because he’s brushing himself against you now, dragging just the tip along where you’re already sdripping

“fuck,” he hisses, wincing as his hips buck up just a little. “so sensitive—” his words cut off with a low groan when you shift, your hands steadying yourself on his shoulders as you sink down.

“oh my god,” you choke out, the sensation swamping the second you take him in. “oh my god, hoon—holy shit—this is so good.”

he lets out this strangled laugh, “yeah?” he rasps, his voice breaking a little at the end. “feels good?”

“so fucking good,” you breathe, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, your hips rolling against him in these desperate little motions. you’re not even trying to play it cool—you’re too far gone for that, babbling about how full he feels, how perfect, how you’ve never felt anything like this.

and he’s just watching you, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, looking dazed and a little wrecked, but there’s this smug glint in his eyes, like he is so fucking proub about how horny he made you.

his hands slide up your thighs, gripping tight like he’s trying to slow you down, but you don’t let him. you’re too caught up in the feeling, too desperate for more, and the way he whimpers when you move faster makes you coat him even wetter,

“slow down,” he tries, his voice cracking as his head falls back. “s-slow—ngh!”

but you don’t slow down. you go harder, grinding down on him like you’re trying to burn the feeling into your skin. “n-no,” you whine, your hands bracing against his chest. “you started this, hoon. you wanted to tease me? then t-ake it.”

his laugh is sharp and breathy, but it cuts off with a low, throaty groan when you move just right, your hips snapping against his in this perfect rhythm that has his head spinning.

“fuck, okay,” he chokes out, but it dosent last a second, his hands flying to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave marks as he tries to slow you down. “okay, okay, just—fuck—slow—a little, babe, please, i’m—”

you don’t listen. too far gone to register anything beyond the way he feels inside you, the way his body tenses under yours, the way his voice gets high pitch with every ragged breath.

“gonna kill me,” he groans, his hands trembling as they guide your hips into a slower rhythm, even though you can tell he’s fighting himself just as much as he’s fighting you.

he grips your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he finally, finally uses his strength to slow you down, forcing you to move at his pace. it’s infuriating and perfect all at once because the shift makes his tip angle just right.

when it brushes against that spot inside you, your whole body jerks. your mouth falls open in a silent scream, no sound coming out except for a broken gasp, and your hips stutter helplessly in his hands, trying to chase the feeling even as he keeps you firmly in place.

he lets out a low, relieved laugh, his voice rough but still so maddeningly smug as he leans closer, his breath hot against your neck. “see?” he murmurs, his tone soft and cooing, like he’s teasing and praising you all at once. “isn’t that good? like this? hm?”

before you can even respond—hell, before you can even think—he does it again, using his arms to guide your hips, rolling them slowly, to make him hit that same spot. and this time, the moan that tears from your throat is loud, followed by another and another, until you’re shaking so hard you’re not even sure you’re in control of your body anymore.

“fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he keeps you moving, steady and devastating. “so pretty like this. so perfect.”

you barely hear him, too lost in the way he’s making you feel, your moans spilling out one after another as the pressure inside you builds higher and higher, until it’s too much. your body seizes, your walls clenching around him so hard that he hiccups. and then it happens—a sudden, blinding orgasm that has you gasping, a liquid warmth spilling out of you in an uncontrollable squirt.

“holy shit,” he mutters as he feels it, the slickness making him slip out of you as you convulse in his lap.

he doesn’t even have time to react properly before the sight of you trembling and moaning in his arms—is enough to make him cum. his hand flies to the swollen cock, stroking once, twice, before he’s coming hard, spilling onto the floor. whining and rolling his hips onto his hand.

for a long moment, the both of you cant move, both of you too fucked and out of breath to do anything but sit there.

eventually, your gaze drifts downward, and your eyes land on him—still hard, still twitching slightly, the entire length of him glistening and… pink. ridiculously pink, especially at the head where it’s darker, flushed from how tight you’d been squeezing him.

you blink, your brain still foggy, and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind: “you weren’t kidding about the pink thing.”

he snorts, now shyly, his head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder as he laughs. “told you... thank god pink’s kind of your thing.”

2K notes · View notes

rainrot4me · 11 months ago

Text

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can.

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong.

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore.

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too.

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips.

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously.

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat.

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body.

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching.

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest.

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying.

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot.

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine.

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute.

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead.

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager.

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously.

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage.

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing?

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing.

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously.

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least.

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while.

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary.

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences.

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes.

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs.

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement.

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you.

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t.

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head.

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing.

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans.

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement.

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next.

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down.

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours.

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now.

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try.

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them.

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly.

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers.

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight.

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands.

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you.

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other.

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out.

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him.

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly.

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked.

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast.

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted.

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

7K notes · View notes

rafesangelita · 5 months ago

Text

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

3K notes · View notes

cbeargyu · 1 month ago

Text

altar boy sins

summary: the pastor’s son fucks you in the back room of the church, promising god’s forgiveness while ruining your last shred of purity.

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader

genre: smut, religious corruption, dark romance.

warnings: explicit sexual content, anal virginity, church setting, religious guilt, oral (m receiving), squirting, degradation, sacreligious language, coercion under trust, creampie, overstimulation, power imbalance, aftercare (light), public risk, no vaginal penetration.

part. ii - part. iii

MDNI 🔞

you had always been the image of virtue. ever since you were little, your life had revolved around the church—every sunday service, every youth retreat, every choir practice and prayer circle. your mother made sure you were dressed modestly, always with your bible tucked in your bag and your heart turned toward god. everyone in town knew your name, whispered it in admiration—such a good girl, they said. so devoted. so pure.

and mark lee... well, he was supposed to be the same. the pastor's son, golden and clean, always sitting in the front pew with his father’s bible open on his lap, eyes closed in pretend prayer. he smiled with soft dimples and spoke in warm, respectful tones that made your mother adore him instantly. she liked to say god had placed him in your path for a reason. and maybe that was true. maybe god had placed him there—to test you.

you hadn’t meant for anything to happen. it started so small, just conversations after service, long looks shared across the chapel, the brush of fingers when you passed him a hymnal. he was gentle at first, careful not to cross a line, but each moment alone with him felt like gravity pulling you closer. and when he kissed you the first time—behind the fellowship hall after bible study—you felt like the world stopped. his lips were warm and soft and sinful.

when you first started sneaking around with mark, things were softer. more innocent. you’d meet behind the church after evening mass, hiding between the tall hedges where no one could see you. he’d press gentle kisses to your lips, hold your hand tightly, whisper sweet nothings against your ear as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

he never rushed you—not at first. he’d just touch you over your clothes, his hands resting respectfully on your waist, sliding up under your blouse only when you let him. and each time you let him go a little further, his praise would melt you. you’re so good for me, baby. so sweet. so perfect.

the first time he touched you under your skirt, you thought your heart would stop. his fingers were warm, slow, exploring the damp heat between your thighs through your panties while he kissed your neck. you were shaking the whole time, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline as he whispered filth in your ear in that low, reverent voice of his.

god made this body just for me, didn’t he? you were meant to be mine.

the day you got on your knees for him was the day something shifted between you.

it was in the church parking lot, late at night, both of you hidden behind the youth ministry van. you’d been making out for too long, your thighs pressed together from the ache building inside you. his cock was hard against his jeans, and when he asked do you wanna try something new, baby?, you nodded without thinking.

he guided your hands to his zipper, helped you pull him out—long, thick, flushed at the tip. your breath caught when you saw it, your mouth already watering.

“just lick it for me,” he said softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. “just a little. just the tip.”

but it wasn’t just a little. not when you saw how much he wanted it, how his jaw clenched and his hands trembled when your lips wrapped around the head of his cock. you took him deeper, his praises growing filthier with every inch you swallowed. the taste of him was salt and skin, musky and intimate, and you moaned around him without meaning to.

he came down your throat that night, holding your head with both hands, whispering you’re so fucking perfect while you swallowed every drop. and afterward, he kissed you so gently you almost cried.

but still—you never let him go all the way.

you’d told him you were saving yourself for your husband. that you’d only give yourself completely after standing before god, in white, with a ring on your finger.

mark didn’t push. not exactly. but his hands got more confident, his touches more persuasive. and every time he left you trembling, wet, begging quietly into his mouth—he’d whisper:

“god will forgive you. he made you to want me”

now you were here, months later, hidden away in the church’s back room. it was where the choir robes were stored, a little room behind the altar with old wooden shelves and a dusty piano no one used anymore. you weren’t supposed to be here, not alone with a boy, not with him. but your hands were already shaking as he kissed down your neck, one of his palms pressed to the small of your back, keeping you pinned to the edge of the table.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lips brushing against your ear, “so perfect, baby. you know how crazy you make me?”

you whimpered, fingers curling in the sleeves of his shirt. “mark... we shouldn’t. not here... not like this.”

his hands slid lower, gripping your hips. “why not? no one’s gonna find us. besides... god will forgive us. he always forgives. he sees love in our hearts. don’t you love me?”

you bit your lip, your whole body trembling with guilt and want. “i do... but i want to wait until we’re married. i want to give myself to my husband. i want god to bless it.”

his eyes darkened, not with anger but with something deeper—desire. temptation. “then marry me. i swear i will. you’re the only girl i want. but i want you now... please. just let me have a little more.”

“mark, i can’t...” your voice cracked, shame pooling in your chest. “it’s a sin.”

“he’ll cleanse us,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw, “he knows your heart. you’re doing this out of love. and he knows you’re still pure... if we don’t—if i don’t take you like that.”

you blinked at him, confused. “like what?”

he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. “i’ll still leave your virginity intact,” he murmured, hand slipping down between your thighs, pressing over your clothes, “you’ll still be untouched. we won’t do it the usual way. i’ll just take you here—” he kissed your cheek, “from behind.”

your breath caught.

“it won’t count,” he whispered, voice sweet like a prayer, “you’ll still be a virgin. still god’s perfect girl.”

you hesitated. the weight of every sermon you’d ever heard sat heavy on your shoulders. but his hands were on your body, and his mouth was on your throat, and your skin was burning. and deep down, there was something dark inside you that wanted it. something that pulsed every time he touched you, something that made your knees weak and your mind hazy.

“promise me,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “promise me you’ll marry me.”

he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “i promise. i’ll take you to the altar myself.”

and that was all it took.

your heart was pounding in your chest as he turned you around gently, his hands never leaving your body. the room was dim, lit only by the soft amber light that spilled through the stained glass near the door. you could hear your own breathing, shallow and fast, as mark guided you to lean over the wooden table. the old surface creaked under your weight, the air cool against your thighs as he slowly lifted the hem of your white sunday dress.

“look at you,” he murmured, voice husky now, more raw, more real. “so innocent. so ready to sin for me.”

his fingers trailed up the back of your thighs, calloused and warm, until he reached the soft curve of your ass. your panties were white, lace-trimmed—modest, sweet, something your mother had bought for you. but they were soaked through, and mark saw it right away.

“jesus,” he breathed, a smirk forming on his lips. “you’re dripping already, baby.”

you whimpered as he tugged them down, the delicate fabric catching around your knees before sliding all the way to your ankles. your cheeks burned with shame and arousal, both twisting deep in your belly as you felt the cool air kiss your now-bare skin.

“bend down for me,” he whispered, pressing between your shoulders until you were fully bent over the table, your elbows resting on the worn wood, your ass presented to him like an offering.

you felt him drop to his knees behind you, felt his hands spread you open, exposing every trembling inch. he kissed along the inside of your thighs, soft and slow, his tongue flicking dangerously close to where you ached. you gasped when you felt him spit between your cheeks, fingers guiding the wetness to your tight entrance.

“it’ll hurt a little,” he murmured, voice lower now, more dangerous. “but you can take it. you’re a good girl, right? you want to make me feel good?”

you nodded, your eyes closing, your hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles went white. “yes… i want to be good.”

“then stay just like that for me.”

he stood again, one hand gripping your waist as you heard the rustle of his belt, the soft clink of the buckle as he undid his pants. then his cock was pressing against you, thick and hot, the head teasing at your tightest spot.

you tensed.

“nghh—ahhh, too much—!”

“shh,” he said softly, kissing your shoulder. “relax for me, baby. let me in.”

he pushed slowly at first, and your breath caught in your throat as the stretch began—hot and burning, unfamiliar and intense. tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you whimpered, body trembling as he pushed further, inch by inch.

“m-mark—! it hurts—”

“shh, quiet, baby. you don’t want anyone hearing how much of a filthy little thing you are, do you?” once he was buried inside, he paused, letting you adjust, his fingers caressing your hips, your waist, whispering soft praises against your ear.

you could barely breathe as you felt every inch of him inside you, thick and pulsing, stretching you open in a way that made your entire body tense. your hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly that your wrists ached, your forehead pressed against the wood as your mouth hung open, panting through the pressure, through the sting. his hands were firm on your hips, thumbs digging into your skin as he stayed buried inside you, letting you feel the full weight of what you’d just done.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice reverent, almost in awe. “you’re squeezing me so tight. you feel like fucking heaven.”

you whimpered, a mix of pain and pleasure blooming in your belly like a wildfire. his hips rolled just slightly, testing how much you could take, and the slow friction made your knees shake. it wasn’t like anything you’d imagined. it wasn’t sweet or soft—it was raw and thick and full. your body fought to accommodate him, fluttering around the intrusion as he began to move in earnest.

“this is what you wanted. i’m just giving you what that virgin pussy of yours was too scared to handle.”

“mmph—! nghh—ahh—!”

“what was that? you like being stuffed full of my cock? like being my dirty little church whore?”

each thrust came a little deeper, a little harder, his pace increasing as the tightness began to melt into something warmer, wetter. you bit down on your lip, trying to stay quiet, but the sounds spilling from you betrayed how good it started to feel. shame pooled hot in your stomach, because it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. you weren’t supposed to like it.

“look at you,” he groaned, slamming into you harder now, one hand sliding up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. “moaning like a little slut while i fuck your virgin ass. does it feel good, baby? you gonna come for me like this?”

your mouth opened in a raw scream, half agony, half ecstasy, unable to hold back the flood of sound escaping you.

“oh my god, oh my god, it’s stretching me too much—!”

“jesus, you’re so fucking loud—shut up, baby, shut up.” he shoved your face down against the table, hand over your mouth again, his hips snapping harder.

“if anyone hears you, they’ll know how desperate you are to get fucked like this.”

you cried out as he pulled your head back, forcing your spine into a deep arch, making you feel every brutal thrust more sharply. the pain burned, yes, but under it was something more intense—your body trembling as a deep heat began to coil between your legs. your thighs were slick, your clit aching from how empty it felt, untouched but throbbing.

his balls slapped against you with each thrust, obscene sounds echoing in the small, sacred space of the church storage room. the smell of sweat and sex filled the air, mixing with the faint trace of incense that lingered on the choir robes stacked beside you. it was filthy. wrong. holy.

he let go of your hair and reached between your thighs, fingers finding your clit without hesitation. you sobbed as he rubbed fast, circles tight and relentless, and your hips started to jerk back against him on instinct, chasing something you didn’t fully understand.

“you’re gonna come,” he grunted, almost laughing, breath hot against your ear. “you’re gonna come like this, with my cock in your ass, right here in god’s house. fuck, baby... you’re perfect.”

“m-mark—i… i feel like i’m gonna pee—”

your vision blurred as your body locked up, tension snapping all at once in a flash of heat and shame and unbearable pleasure. your orgasm ripped through you like lightning, a violent gush exploding between your legs, spraying down your thighs and onto the floor with a loud, wet sound that shocked even you.

“jesus fucking christ—” he gasped, faltering for the first time as your body clenched around him like a vice, milking him deeper.

mark’s hips stuttered the moment he felt the rush of wetness pour out of you, his breath catching in his throat like he couldn’t believe what just happened. your body was shaking beneath him, trembling and spasming uncontrollably as your release coated your thighs, dripping messily down onto the floor. he pulled back just slightly to look, to see the way you squirted for him, your slick glistening under the dim church light.

“fuck, baby…” he groaned, sounding half-wrecked, half-awestruck. “you just—fuck—i made you do that?”

he grabbed your hips tighter, almost possessively, and slammed back into you, still deep in the grip of his own rising climax. your body was so sensitive now, every thrust making you jolt forward, your muscles twitching from the overstimulation. but he didn’t stop—not yet. he was chasing something now, something hot and desperate.

“you came so fucking hard,” he growled against your neck, his thrusts getting sloppier, deeper. “your little virgin body just squirted all over my cock… and you were so scared of sinning.”

you moaned weakly, your voice raw and broken, drool slipping from your lips as your cheek pressed flat against the table. your body felt like it was floating, skin hot and damp with sweat, your hole still stretched tight around him, sucking him in greedily every time he pulled back.

“mine,” he whispered like a prayer, fucking into you with final, brutal thrusts. “you’re mine. god can’t have you anymore. you belong to me.”

and then he came.

with a deep, guttural moan, mark buried himself inside you one last time and spilled everything into your ass—hot and thick, ropes of cum filling you until you could feel it dripping back out around his cock. his hips jerked as he emptied himself, one hand sliding up to hold your waist while the other rubbed your lower back in shaky, soothing circles.

he stayed inside you for a moment, breathing hard, chest rising and falling against your back, sweat clinging to both your skins. the room was quiet except for the sound of your combined breaths and the faint ticking of an old wall clock above the door.

you blinked slowly, still dazed, still trembling. and for a brief second, you felt completely hollow and completely full at the same time—ruined, marked, and claimed.

he pulled out slowly, and you whimpered at the emptiness, at the sticky warmth leaking down the back of your thighs. your body sagged against the table, weak and used, your legs barely holding you up. you could feel his release slipping from your hole, thick and hot, a constant reminder of what you’d let him do—what you’d begged him to do.

“stay still,” he murmured softly, voice gentler now, almost sweet. he reached for a folded choir robe from the shelf beside him, one of the ones no one ever used, and knelt behind you again. with quiet, careful hands, he cleaned the mess dripping down your thighs, the backs of your knees, and finally between your cheeks. he wiped away the cum from your entrance, his touch slow and reverent, like he was cleaning something sacred.

you flinched slightly, still too sensitive, and he pressed a kiss to your lower back. “i’ve got you,” he whispered. “you were perfect for me.”

when he was done, he helped you step back into your panties, tugging them up gently over your sore, sticky skin. he straightened your dress, smoothing out the wrinkles like he was tucking you back into your illusion of purity. then he kissed your cheek, your temple, your lips—slow and soft and careful, like he hadn’t just broken something inside you.

you both stood in silence for a moment, breathing slowly, the air still thick with the scent of sin and sweat.

and then he reached for his bible.

he tucked it under one arm and held out his other hand to you. you took it, fingers lacing with his, still trembling slightly. and together, you walked out of that little storage room, out into the bright white hallway of the church.

the front doors were open. sunlight poured in. a breeze moved through the sanctuary like nothing had happened.

as you stepped into the entryway, mark dipped his fingers into the small bowl of holy water near the door. he touched his forehead, chest, and shoulders, murmuring the sign of the cross with practiced grace. you followed suit, mimicking the motion, your fingers wet and cool against your burning skin.

no one would ever know.

you were still god’s children, still his favorites.

only now, he wasn’t the only one watching you.

1K notes · View notes