#told you i was building anticipation

[baggy-holmes]

kissed by an angel

[envy-of-the-apple]

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 

"Is everything alright?" 

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 

Nothing. 

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 

"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 

"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

𖤓

It was something minuscule. 

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him. 

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 

It's worse than anything you could think of. 

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 

This wasn't bullying. 

This was abuse. 

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired. 

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 

"Why?" 

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 

"Get lost." 

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 

"Anything, right?" 

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 

"Get on your knees." 

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 

"I-I-Gojo you-" 

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 

"Gojo I-" 

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 

You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 

"Satoru." 

His eyes flash in satisfaction. 

"Open up, pretty girl." 

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 

 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 

"My laptop...it's broken." 

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 

The sunset is pretty today. 

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 

"Thank-" 

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 

"I love you." 

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 

Fuck three weeks. 

You needed to get out, now. 

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 

The door shuts with a click. 

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 

You take one back. He puts his hands up. 

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 

 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 

You go to move. 

Satoru's faster. 

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-" 

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 

"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 

"I love you." 

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color. 

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.” 

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting. 

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips. 

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet  you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment. 

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.” 

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[tojirights]

Prompt “❛ i love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don't get to have you, but i do. ❜” with alastor :3

Likke reader has been with multiple people but alastor is the first person to make her cum 0.0

prompt: Hii I really like your work! Can you do face sitting with alastor like reader mentions that she wants to sit on alastor face to angel and alastor overhears or angels says outlook to husk while his wasted thank youu

a/n: combining these two prompts!! ^ thinking maybe alastor overhears you talking with angel about your woes and offers to uhhh assist 👀

"the guys down here suck, angel." you sigh, sitting next to angel in the hotel lounge. you crack open your beer and hand him one as well. "yer tellin' me, babe." he chuckles. "whats got ya worked up this tIme?" he hums, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "thats the thing! nothing!" you groan, leaning into his body. "you know how many times i've tried hooking up with someone just for them to bust in 30 seconds and rub my inner thigh?" angel almost chokes on his drink.

"they're the worst. no one down here has been able to make me cum but myself." you mutter, taking a sip of your drink. "who do you want, hm?" angel asks. "maybe i can hook ya up with someone good." he wiggles his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you. the alcohol is making you feel a little brave, so with a sigh, you let your words free. "y'know who i think about all the time?" angel's eyes widen with interest, anticipation building.

"alastor..." you admit for the first time out loud. angel does choke on his drink this time before he laughs. "bitch! the radio demon?!" he barely contains his cackle. "stop! i mean, have you seen him? god, angel. i'd get down on my knees and bark if he told me to. i wanna sit on his face, hold onto his antlers for support. ughh, he's so hot." you whine into angel's chest, embarrasmemt finally setting in. angel tries to contain himself, but you've never said something so out of pocket but also very relatable.

unbeknownst to you, alastor stands not far behind you, his ears twitching as he listens in. a part of him does feel a tinge of guilt for listening, but you'd be quieter if you didn't want anyone to hear you. "well now, isn't that interesting?" alastor's voice makes you jump, almost tossing your beer straight onto angel. "oh fuck..." angel all but pushes you over in an attempt to get away.

"oh my god. alastor i'm so sorry, i was just-" you scramble to defend yourself, but alastor puts his staff under your chin to raise your eyes to his. "what was that you said about wanting to... sit on my face? about these worthless little demons not knowing how to treat a woman?" the sultry tone in his voice has you clenching your thighs together, which you blame on the alcohol swirling in your gut. you laugh awkwardly, trying to brush this off as alastor teasing you but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's dead serious. "it's nothing! just venting some frustrations, that's all."

your eyes are a dead giveaway, desire flooding them as you peer up at alastor. "why don't you accompany me to my room for the evening, darling? we wouldn't want these inexperienced fools to try and make a move now, would we?" he extends his hand, and you decide to throw caution to the wind. standing, you let him pull you close. "blow my mind, radio boy." you whisper, watching alastor's eyes darken and his smirk grow. alastor uses the shadows, leading you straight to his room in a mere moment.

your heart rate sky rockets, realization hitting your gut as you start to strip. "how long has it been?" he asks, picking you up with ease and carrying you to the bed. "w-what?" you hesistate, watching as alastor ushers you to climb on top of him. "since someone else made you cum?" you swallow, straddling his chest. "i don't even remember al..." alastor's hands come around to grip your ass and pull you forward. with a gasp, you brace yourself on the headboard and then the feeling of alastor's tongue immediately has your brain turning to mush.

it's dizzying, the slide of his tongue up and down your slit was already far better than anything you've experienced in such a long time. "o-oh fuck." your body shudders, barely being able to hold still. alastor's tongue dips passed your entrance, lapping up your juices like a man starving. you already feel that familiar coil in your stomach forming, threatening to snap all over alastor's face. "that's, oh god alastor, that's so good." you moan, gripping tighter on the headboard as your hips start to stutter on their own.

then, you feel alastor's hands on your ass start to push and pull you, forcing your cunt to slide over his tongue. "y-you, i'm gonna-" you can't even think straight, pleasure blinding you to anything else happening in the entire world. alastor hums against your clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and that's it, you're cumming hard enough that your vision goes dark and tears well in your eyes.

you're shaking, barely being able to breathe as alastor's tongue runs lazy circles over your still sensitive clit to ride out your orgasm. before you're fully recovered, alastor quickly flips you onto your back and his fingers find your puffy pussy. "you have no idea the honor it is to be the only one to see you like this, my dear. the only one to feel you-" he pauses, pushing two fingers inside your needy cunt so he can hear your sweet moans. "cum. and i will be the only one to continue feeling that. you will cum on my face, my fingers, my cock... anything you please."

the desire burning in your core strengthens once more. not even your own fingers have ever made you cum twice, but alastor is about to pull a second orgasm from you almost completely back to back. "make me cum again." you whine, hips arching further off the bed as his fingers pump in and out slowly. "on your cock, fuck, please fuck me alastor."

alastor chuckles, his free hand unbottoning the front of his pants just enough to free his cock. "how could i deny such a good girl? cum on my cock, my princess." in an instant, alastor's fingers are replaced by the thickness of his cock. the first thrust alone has you teetering on the edge, while his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit.

your pussy clenches around his girth, pulsing with every sweep of his finger. each thrust of his hips pushes you closer to the edge, his cock filling you like no one else could ever. "y-you, gonna cum again." you cry out, spasms wrecking your body as your second orgasm hits even more intense with the feeling of his thick cock stretching your pussy.

alastlor groans, pumping his cock deeper, deeper until he's cumming as well. "such a good girl." he grunts, pushing each thick rope of cum further inside. "you won't ever have to worry about not being taken care of, my dear." he assures, pulling out slowly even as your cunt tries to squeeze him in. "there's plenty more where that came from, rest your pretty little eyes." he coos, pulling a blanket on your tired body.

you just know this is going to be the best sleep pf your fucking life...

[agustdtown1]

FREE USE | JJK (hcs)

PAIRING: roommate!jungkook x roommate!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: headcanons of what it’d be like to let jungkook use you as much as he pleased.

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, free use dynamics, friends/roommates with benefits, unprotected sex, masturbation, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), fucking while doing mundane things, reader and jungkook are very laid back in this one. Grammar mistakes as per usual.

A/N: idk where I was going with this, but I liked the idea so here it is, enjoy!

Masterlist

Your arrangement started as a simple roommates with benefits type of thing.

It sort of naturally happened.

After a long day of working at your nine to five job and Jungkook dealing with some unnecessary family drama, both of you were at your limit.

You two were in need of some good release.

At the time, alcohol looked like the better option. The best remedy for your miserable day; perfect to leave behind all your concerns and numb your mind for a few hours, until you wake up the next day with an unbearable headache.

Neither of you anticipated that what started as a peaceful drinking session, would end up with both of you fucking desperately to the point of almost breaking the sofa.

After Jungkook finally got a taste of you, however, it became an impossible task to keep his distance with you; despite both of you agreeing to that night being just a one-time thing, and never doing anything like that again.

And so his long nights of jacking off to the thought of you started.

Jungkook would make sure that you were peacefully sleeping before pulling his sweats down, slightly teasing himself by feeling his cock through his underwear.

It was so painfully hard and already leaking.

When his own teasing was too much to bear, Jungkook would pull down the last piece of clothing preventing him from feeling his fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’d start at a slow pace, taking his sweet time to build up his release. He knew the best way to tip himself over the edge, but it seemed like after your one night together nothing could make him cum. His avid fingers weren’t so avid on himself anymore. It didn’t give him the same sentiment that you did. His hand was significantly bigger than yours, on top of being rough and calloused due to all the weightlifting he did on the daily.

Jungkook could notice the stark contrast between you and himself.

He remembers so vividly the way your fingers wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly, before you started to pump his dick at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t mind at the time, but in the darkness and loneliness of his room, Jungkook could only beg for his hand to go faster. However, it wasn’t enough. And that’s how the mental image —the memory of your soft lips kissing his tip came to the very front of his mind. It was hard to forget it; the way your tongue wrapped around his dick, the way you swallowed all of him in one go, just to show him that he could be rougher with you, that it was okay for Jungkook to lose all his self control and fuck your throat only like he knew.

Sadly, those nights filled with the most filthy sounds and moans had to stay a secret for a few more weeks.

Before the unthinkable happened.

Truth be told, you were just as needy of Jungkook as he was of you. And maybe that’s the reason you didn’t think too much before suggesting that crazy idea to him.

“So… Friends with benefits?” His question sounded a bit unsure. “Well, should I say roommates with benefits?” You nodded, agreeing while taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. I don’t really care about the name, as long as we’re both on the same page and understand what all of this actually is.”

It was so pathetic how fast Jungkook wanted to agree and say yes to whatever deal you had for him, as long as that meant he could have you all the time he wanted.

And so, it became a recurrent occurrence to be found in the sheets of the one and only Jeon Jungkook whenever life became too stressful.

Surprisingly, the guy learned to read your body in a matter of a few days. His rough hands knew what path to follow; how soft or hard the touch of his fingers had to be to get the exact reaction he needed from you. His warm lips always found that perfect spot on your neck that would steal the sweetest of sounds from your mouth. And his dick would always move just the right way to make you see starts.

But no matter how much of your body you would give to Jungkook during the hardest of days, he would always crave more.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself in the current predicament you were in.

Your hands were acting clumsy due to Jungkook’s hard thrusts. The pencil placed in between your fingers was shaking so badly, and your handwriting was so illegible that not even someone with their 20-20 vision could understand what you wrote.

“Slow down a bit, it’s difficult to write while getting fucked.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

His pace was turned down a few notches, but it only served to feel him inside you ten times deeper.

You see, your initial arrangement got to the point of fucking at any moment, anywhere, any day. No matter what either of you were doing, if it was important or not, if you had time or were in a hurry; if your bodies were ready for it or got taken by surprise. It became normal for the both of you to use each other at any given moment.

Just like right now, you could be having a peaceful moment studying, cooking or even watching a movie and Jungkook would simply slide down whatever clothes you were wearing and slip inside, enjoying the warmth of your velvety walls.

You got so used to it that you no longer were surprised by his sudden actions. And just like you did, Jungkook also got used to your impromptu appearance in his room when he was playing video games with his friends, watching a movie, or even just listening to music.

There was one time when he was on the phone with his brother and you easily walked in his room, pulled down his pants and started to suck the life out of him. Surprisingly, Jungkook did good in suppressing his moans while speaking to his brother.

There were other times when he would be reading a manga on the couch, and without previous warning you would get on top of him and ride his cock as if it was your last wish. Even maintaining a conversation while fucking was the usual for you both.

“What are you reading?” Your airy voice rang through Jungkook’s ears, making him look up from the manga placed on his hands, before continuing reading. “Jujutsu Kaisen, the one I told you about the other day.”

“Is it the one with that Gojo guy?” Your movements got messier and faster, desperately trying to reach your high. “Is it— fuck, is it any good?”

“Mhm, it became one of my favorites.” He answered, but even if Jungkook tried to keep his voice steady you could tell he was getting there. “You should read it. I have a feeling you’d— fuck, just like that... I have a feeling you’d like it.” You nodded, not really finding your voice to answer due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. It was a matter of a few more thrusts before you were coming undone on top of him.

At any moment, any minute, any day and most importantly anywhere. That’s how it would usually go for you two.

Both of you fell into the routine so easily and neither were ready to let go of it anytime soon.

[pucksandpower]

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰: 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱

Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)

Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.

Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.

No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling

The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.

But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.

You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.

For He was always there.

Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.

The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.

My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho

You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.

You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.

There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.

Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.

Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.

His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.

The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.

The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.

All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.

The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?

All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.

How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.

His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.

It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?

The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.

You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.

Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?

The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.

He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?

The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.

You fell asleep.

You lost the game.

The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.

Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.

He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.

Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.

But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.

Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anything—anything—and you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunho’s smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.

As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunho’s face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunho’s hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But there’s something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

“What do you want?” you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You. I want you, all of you. And I’m not letting you go.”

The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.

And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you can’t quite suppress.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. “That depends on you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. “But one thing is certain—you won’t ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunho’s gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you won’t. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadn’t known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.

And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that you’re not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunho’s obsession.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll take care of you my princess, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted… if you let me.”

His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “For you. You have no idea how much I want you.”

His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he’s too rough. But you’re not going anywhere—you can’t, even if you wanted to.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.

'How I needed you'

His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.

Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Say it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. “I’m yours.”

Yunho’s eyes flare with satisfaction, and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.

He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.

A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.

You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.

Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?

His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunho’s touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect.”

The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.

'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.

Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.

His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.

He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?

'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.

Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.

A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.

You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.

'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.

Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.

The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.

"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.

Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."

Yunho’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.

With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.

"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."

Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."

Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."

His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.

You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.

Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."

Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you. You’re mine, all of you. I don’t care who’s looked at you, touched you before. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to claim you."

His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marks—like he wanted to brand you as his. "I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.

"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. I’ll make sure of it."

His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "I’ll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You won’t be able to think about anyone but me."

He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and I’ll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And I’m going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."

His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you."

He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.

Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.

He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.

His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.

"I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.

"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.

Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.

He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasn’t just taking you—he was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.

'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.

A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.

'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.

The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.

As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.

Yunho’s grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "I’ve been watching you for so long... you can’t escape me now, princess."

The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tenderness—only the certainty that he wasn’t letting go.

"I’ll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.

Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.

I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.

Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn

[seresinhangmanjake]

Don't Touch What’s His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad.

Notes/Warnings: mention of blood and mutilation, inflicted wounds, and possessiveness. Related to the fic titled His, but this can be read alone. Typos (just being real)

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You’re screaming for him before you’re even fully awake, shrieking his name before you can begin to grasp what’s happening to you. All you know is that you’re no longer warm, no longer safe as you’re yanked from his arms and dragged to the bottom edge of the bed. Claws are digging into your calf as primal grumbles and growls and the distinct sound of lips smacking in anticipation reach your ears. Your body is being pulled further and further away, and no pawing at the sheets helps to keep you on the mattress.

Another plea for him is on the tip of your tongue, but then a hand wraps around your arm, engaging in a tug-of-war with whatever monster has a hold on you. Scrapes make lines down your leg as you dig your heels into the bed and back yourself away from the clawed being. You take a few deep breaths and blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I told you she’s off limits!” Feyd shouts in a terrifying tone. A tone most commonly reserved for those who inconvenience him: servants and prisoners and his brother. It’s not his low timbre; it’s much more powerful. So powerful that you half-expect a crack to split open the floor.

You blink again and crane your neck to peer over the foot of the bed at who he scolds. Feyd’s harpies are on their hands and knees, staring a hole into your head. It’s a daring choice. When Feyd speaks, those around must be attentive with eyes and ears, but the harpies don’t so much as glance in his direction. They’re here for you, they want you, and clearly nothing else.

“But she looks so yummy,” one of them says, a pout forming on her lips.

“And she smells even better,” the second adds. Her tongue swipes over a sharpened fang.

All three of them begin to crawl across the floor until they’re at your side of the bed. Feyd’s fingers tighten around your arm, his eyes narrowing, and you lean back against his chest just in case they get the idea to lunge at you.

“We won’t eat very much of her,” the third purrs as her hand slithers over the silky sheets, inching toward your body. “Just a few little bites. Plenty left over for our lord na-baron to enjoy.”

When her pointed nails graze your ankle, Feyd leans around you, grabs her wrist, and sharply twists until there's a snap. She yelps. Your body jolts. Tears build in the corners of her eyes. Your jaw drops.

Immediately, they appear to sober up. Their hunger, if still there, doesn’t lust for you so intensely now that fear has taken over.

“You will not sink your filthy fangs into her,” Feyd spits, baring his teeth. “She’s mine. Her flesh, her blood, all of her—mine.” The other two harpies shrink and skitter away from their injured sister. “If I wanted to share, I would have.”

Feyd releases his harpy. She cradles her broken wrist, whimpers emitting from her throat as she scoots back to join the others. They feel safer in a pack. Though you don’t think that will aid them in this case.

“W-We just thought she wouldn’t matter to you,” one of them mutters, her chin tucked to her chest. “We thought you could find another plaything.”

Feyd’s face darkens. The icy blue of his glare wavers under the force of a burning red. As he moves to stand, he jerks you to his side of the bed, separating you from the beastly women by a few more feet.

“What did you just say to me?” he grits out, rounding the mattress and stopping in front of them.

The harpies glance at each other in panic before looking back at their master. “W-We didn't mean–”

“It appears I’ve treated you too well,” he says decisively. “If you’re bold enough to defy my orders, then perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”

You gulp. You’ve heard that tone. You’ve heard those words. But you have a feeling Feyd’s threats toward his harpies are not as empty as the ones he throws at you, and it makes your stomach squeeze.

Your presence in Giedi Prime’s fortress being the indirect cause of their harm is nothing less than unjust. It’s not their fault their master brought fresh meat home. They cannot control what they are, and Feyd routinely encourages their behavior, excluding only you from the list of bodies they are allowed to feast upon. If anything, this is his fault.

“Get up!” he shouts, and they scramble to their feet.

You rise up on your knees as he turns and yanks open the bedroom door. “Feyd, wait, you don’t have to–”

“Stay!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you.

Your mouth snaps shut and you sit, watching as his harpies obediently follow him out the door. Within the minute, you hear the screams and squeals of pain, and you wince, pressing your hands over your ears.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position. It’s Feyd’s touch that jolts you back into the present.

You look up.

Red is speckled across his torso. You feel a slickness on your face from where he is cupping your cheek, and when he pulls his hand away, you notice the rivers of blood running through the spaces between his fingers.

Without a word, Feyd pushes you down onto the bed, rearranges the covers so they drape appropriately across your body, and crawls under the sheets to settle in beside you.

“What did you do to them?” you ask.

His eyes are already closed by the time the question fully leaves your lips. He blows out a heavy breath through his nose and turns on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. “Removed a few fingers,” he says. “Now go back to sleep.”

“But–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” he grumbles in demand. “Unless you’d rather I change my mind and toss you into their feeding pit…”

It's one of those empty threats, but you don’t press him further. Not for tonight. Tonight he is tired and grumpy and nothing about you pushing him will do you any good. So instead, you allow him to do as he wants. And what he wants is to tuck your head under his chin, eliminate all space between you, and hold you in a grip that is just short of suffocating.

[adiraargent]

Like you love me - Mattheo Riddle

warnings: fluff, kissing summary: you catch your boyfriend looking at you from across the room...

Mattheo Riddle leaned against the wall, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you across the room. You were engrossed in a conversation, your laughter ringing through the air. He couldn't help but admire the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way your expressions animated every story you told. As he lost himself in observing you, you suddenly caught his gaze and made your way toward him.

"Don't look at me like that," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes as you joined him by the wall.

"How am I looking at you?" Mattheo replied, arching an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

"Like you love me," you said with a mischievous grin, a hint of amusement coloring your tone.

Mattheo's expression softened, the corners of his lips curling up into a genuine smile. "Maybe I do," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, almost lost in the ambient noise around you.

Your breath hitched at his words, the air suddenly charged with an unspoken tension. His gaze held yours, a silent invitation lingering between you both. Without a word, he reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle yet filled with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away, the world narrowing down to just the two of you. The music, the chatter, the bustling atmosphere—it all became background noise, insignificant compared to the electricity crackling in the air.

"Maybe?" you echoed softly, your heart pounding against your chest, anticipation building with every passing second.

Mattheo leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. And then, with a whisper-soft touch, his lips met yours in a tender, hesitant kiss. It was a delicate dance of emotions, a silent confession spoken through the meeting of lips.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world around you fading into a blissful blur. In that fleeting moment, nothing else mattered except the undeniable truth that hung between you both—a love that had silently woven itself into the fabric of your connection.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes met again, now filled with an unspoken understanding, a shared acknowledgment of something beautiful that had just been awakened between you.

"Maybe," Mattheo repeated, his voice now tinged with a certainty that mirrored the newfound depth in his gaze, "I definitely do."

[ivysoul]

FIRESIDE. ✸ farmhand!rafe cameron au [1.1k]

summary. rafe cameron. everything you need and more.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ༘⋆❥ afab!reader, farmer’s daughter au!, reader calls her dad “daddy” but it’s obvs not sexual (it’s country. it’s a country thing it’s normal.), porn with minimal plot, ooc rafe (he’s just sweeter in this lmao), mutual pining, friends with benefits, except reader has such an awful crush on him, unprotected p in v, public sex (no one sees), against a barn oops, dirty talk, fingering, praise, creampie.

reign speaks. i have a rlly bad obsession on the farmer’s daughter aesthetic rn so pls just bare with me while i literally milk the ever living hell out of it. a lot of farmer’s daughter/country au’s in the drafts rn. rafe, leon, ghost, you name it. just let me cook y’all i swear something good will come of it i promise LMAO. sorry about any spelling errors i wrote this in two hours😭

• — ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ nav ꒱

rafe cameron had an incredible way of making you feel both wanted and wholly confused all at once. he could be at your feet, begging you to follow him around whilst he did his farm work for your father, to keep him company and fill his ears with your voice of honey. he’d look at you as if you yourself had put the very moon and stars in the sky, as if you’d put them there just for him. hell, he even carved a small heart out of wood and attached it to some ribbon and gently wrapped it around your wrist.

he’d do all this just to continue calling you his friend.

his friend that he occasionally fucks dumb every week. the friend whose brain he turns to mush with his sweet words as he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt. the friend that he spends more time pleasuring than himself.

this time was no different. just another time when you snuck out of your bedroom window and into the warm night, illuminated by the soft hues of the moons glow. the note he had slipped into your hand earlier in the day had been discarded in a box under your bed.

(where you kept all of the notes he’d given you. shamefully, you must admit).

now, you find yourself being pressed against the side of your father’s old barn, towered over by rafe, mouths colliding in mutual desperate need. you pawed at his clothe covered chest, taking the fabric in your fist. his hand held the back of your neck while the other gripped at the skin on your hip, having pushed itself up and under your floral cotton nightgown. his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties but never dared to go further, not yet.

the feeling of rafe took over your senses. he rendered you unable to form any thoughts other than him. it was embarrassing—the effect he had on you.

he pulled away against his own wishes to catch some air. but the look in his eyes, the look, forbade you from breathing any air at all.

“i missed you today,” he confesses. his voice is like silk against skin. smooth and gentle. “where’d you go?”

you smiled at him. “ran some errands with daddy. needed t’ get a new rake since someone broke the other one.”

“i told you, it was an accident!”

the laugh that escapes him makes butterflies form in your belly.

“i know, ‘m just teasin’.” you run your hand through his hair. when he leans back in and kisses you deeply, gently nipping your bottom lip, you tug lightly at the roots of his hair. the groan he lets out sends shocks through you.

you felt anticipation build up higher and higher when rafe’s index and middle fingers grazed over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet patch and knowing how wet you were already. he applied slight pressure to your clit over your panties, making you whine desperately.

“rafe, please.”

he made a faux pouty expression, displaying fake confusion. “what? i’m just teasin’.”

he is not mocking you right now.

he let out a small laugh before dipping his hands into your panties and finally drawing small circles on your clit. you moaned a little too loud at the sudden feeling, making rafe clamp his free hand over your mouth.

he then pushes a finger, then two, into your sopping cunt, curling them slightly. your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. you were thankful he had your mouth covered, otherwise you would’ve woken up not only the animals on the farm, but also your parents inside the the house.

rafe wasn’t holding back, giving you exactly what you wanted and needed. “god, she’s so wet f’r me, baby. you been missin’ me? missed my words? my fingers? my cock?”

you nodded the best you could with his hand on your mouth. your abdomen constricting with every sharp jolt of pleasure he gave you. an all too familiar feeling was rising too fast for you to prepare for.

but just as quickly it came, it left when he retracted his hands entirely.

you wanted to plead, you would’ve if not for the mouth guard, but instead you attempted to grab at rafe’s hand once again. he just shook his head, shushing you softly and undoing his belt with one hand. christ, you could’ve cum right then.

“don’t worry, baby, i’m gonna take care of you.”

he pulls your panties down and they pool at your ankles. you only have time to step one foot out of them before he’s grabbing at your leg and pulling it against his waist, your panties hanging from your ankle.

rafe takes his hand off your mouth and instead wraps it around your neck and captures your lips with his. in one push, he filled you to the brim with his cock.

your jaw falls slack as moans upon moans escape you. there was nothing rafe could’ve done to muffle you now. with him hitting every spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you were done for.

the wood of the barn walls scraped against your bare shoulders, rafe’s hand sneaking up and under your nightgown to grope at your tits, pinching your nipples.

“rafe, rafe—fuck!—”

“watch your mouth, princess,” rafe warns. the nickname making your mind swirl. “i know it feels good, y’pussy’s just squeezin’ me. like it wont let me move.”

“‘m sorry! ‘m sorry!” you could barely think. his cock stretched you so much, providing the perfect combination of stinging pleasure.

once again, you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter the more rafe fucks his cock into you. you attempted to grasp at any part of him that you could get ahold of and the only word you could mumble out was his name, over and over, until you finally let go. your body spasmed, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. rafe fucked you through your orgasm before he came inside you, against his better judgment. his hips stuttered back and forth, grinding himself against you as much as he could until he had nothing left to give you.

he stilled as you two caught your breaths, until he eventually pulled out and fixed himself back up.

“lift your foot, baby.”

you lifted your foot as he said and he put it through your panties, lifting them up your legs and resting them back against your wet cunt. his cum pooled from you and into your panties, but you didn’t care. you’ll just wash them tomorrow.

[winterzsurprise]

Peaches and Cream || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x f!reader

Summary: There's a stark difference with how your husband and Miguel treats you, starting with how rough the latter can be.

Tags: SMUT, NOT BETA READ, unprotected sex, rough sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spanking, pussy slapping (once), fluff (?), jealous!Miguel, Miguel has a big dick.

Words: 2.2k

I got distracted from writing domestic Miguel after he replaced the dad!Miguel after he got shot. This is shit, my apologies I'll do better and add more flavor next time, promiseee. Title is from the song I was listening to the whole time by Noah Davis.

I don't know how to navigate tumblr as a second blog but thank you to all your comments, reblogs and likes, it really does motivate me to write more and better stuff. Also thank you to two blogs for putting me in their recommendations! I made it guys :''DD!!

cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love || hermosa - beautiful || pobrecita - poor thing (correct me on this one please) || calladita - quietly (thank you sm @eminenceplant for this)

There's a stark difference between your husband and the man hovering above you like a predator about to pounce.

Your husband's hands were soft and loving as it caressed and wandered your body as he peppered kisses down from your neck and to your inner thigh. All of his gestures are a sweet concoction of loving and adoration.

Whilst Miguel's touch was desperate, territorial as he clawed down your flesh, human nails digging into your thighs and breasts as he left a trail of purple bruises around your neck, collarbones before stopping to nip at your hip bone. Everything he does is animalistic, deprived and hungry as if he hasn't eaten for centuries.

His red eyes were clouded with dark lust, glinted with something carnal, even feral, in the dark that got your spine tingling with anticipation.

To see and feel his perpetual desperation for your skin, your scent and desire for your touch had your pride piercing the heavens. To be wanted as he does like you're the air he breathes is dizzying and you can't help but want more.

It's exhilarating, addicting even.

It hasn't been long since you found yourself in love with another version of your husband, yet you grew to crave more of him as seconds ticked by.

Miguel's muscled arms curled around your thighs, forcing them open before pulling you flush to his face with a surprising strength. A pleased sigh escaped your lips as his hot breath fans over your pubic bone, hand falling to knot onto his hair and tugging him closer.

You soon realised why he paused on top of your mound as he inhaled you in, immediately your cheeks flamed.

"You smell heavenly, baby. So wet for me as well, makes me want to taste you."

You bite your bottom lip, nodding urgently as you tug him closer and he clicks his tongue.

"Hermosa, I need your words."

"Please darling? I'll be nice I swear, eat me out please."

Miguel doesn't need to be told twice, dipping his tongue onto your dripping folds. Your back arched at the sensation, after months of no intimacy following the change in your husband, your arousal lit your nerve endings ablaze.

His left hand that was digging into your flesh then reached to splay itself onto your abdomen, pinning you to the mattress as his tongue flicked your clit with a firm pace.

With every flicker of his appendage, hot pleasure rockets into your stomach, body growing feverish as pressure builds up inside your abdomen.

As if sensing your orgasm from the hitch of your breath alone, his right arm unwinds from your thigh to trail down to your fluttering entrance, caressing the rim so sweetly it hurts.

"Miguel please."

He ignored you, focusing on suckling on your clit with a reawakened fervor. You tugged onto his hair, hard enough for it to hurt, for him to listen to your pleas yet he only grunted, sending ample vibrations to quake your bones.

"Beg for it nicely, cariño. I want to hear you beg for me."

"I want your fingers in me, please! Miguel, baby, I want to feel you in me, please."

He groaned, it rumbled in his chest before sending shockwaves down your spine. Then he shoved two of his thick fingers inside you and you jerked. The burn of being breached got your blood buzzing as it mixed with the pleasure his tongue gave you.

If your husband was gentle with his fingers, inserting them one by one with utmost care, Miguel is everything he stands against. 

His fingers immediately found a punishing pace, plunging in and out of you whilst curling up to touch the spongy spot in your walls. Encouraged by his digits, his tongue grew frantic as it sucked and flicked your clit rapidly, driving you closer and closer to your precipice. You opened your mouth to scream but it was caught short by his other hand clamping over your lips.

"Calladita, you're going to wake Gabriella up."

Miguel's gaze burns your face as he brings you pleasure atop pleasure with every thrust and lick .

To see your eyes roll back and your chest rise as you arch, the greedy monster claws at his neck, wanting for more reactions.

Bet her husband had also made her this way...

An ugly head reared out of the back of his brain, whispering taunts into his ears and reaching around with its rotten hands to blind his eyes. 

With the bitter realization, his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a punishing pace, the heel of his palm slamming into your engorged clit as a pathetic wet squelch echoed in the room. The sudden change in pace got you writhing, your mewls muffled by his hand.

"So fucking wet for me, hermosa. Tell me, do you get this turned on for your husband?"

You didn't respond and that seemed to anger him, pulling his fingers out and cutting off the intoxicating thrum of heat in your veins and you whined, displeased. Hearing this, he brought his hand down for a firm slap onto your clit.

"Fuck…"

"You don't get to react, mi amor."

He sat up, pushing down his sweatpants along with his boxers and his erection stands, slapping against his stomach. Your eyes immediately caught the dribbles of pre-cum pulsing out of his tip and your tongue grew heavy, hand reaching out to grab onto his dick.

Miguel, in more ways than one, is bigger than your husband. Your hand barely closed up around his length and dread loomed over you. He's about to ruin you, mind and body, with this dick.

Fuck, will this fit in me?

"You're so big."

He chuckled darkly, fingers pinching your chin. "No, your husband's just lacking, hermosa."

You should've been angered by his comment but you couldn't find it in yourself to reprimand him for it. Instead, you find yourself flustered at his confidence.

"On your knees."

As if hypnotized, you followed despite the disappointment rumbling inside you for not being able to pleasure him. 

You pushed yourself off of the mattress to turn but he was quicker, ever the impatient man that he is, his large hand splayed between your shoulder blades and pinned you to the cushion, forcing you to present your ass up at him.

"Darling? I really don't think it'll fit."

A resonating slap echoed in the room as he swatted your ass and you whimpered, body lurching away before strong arms dragged you back under him.

"You can and you will. I will make sure of it."

His cockhead poked your entrance and a thrill slithered down your spine. You looked down to your pussy, watching with rapt attention as he dragged himself up and down your folds.

The sight of his disheveled self with his head thrown back and mouth agape to let out groans made you shiver. How could someone look so attractive?

Miguel soon pushed in, the head of his dick immediately lodging into your small hole, stretching you wide as he slowly inserted more of his inches. The sting it brought got you gasping and grabbing tight onto the sheets, already feeling full to the brim with barely half of him in.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me. Pobrecita… your husband must've never fucked you wide open before."

Just when you thought it was done, he continued to push more of him. Your head grows light, pleasure shocking all your nerve endings awake from your legs and to the tip of your toes.

He didn't even let you rest, already pulling back and you almost shot up to grab him, scared he'd leave you hanging but Miguel left his cockhead in before thrusting all of his inches back in with one fluid motion and your mouth fell agape. 

"Fuck…! Miguel please!"

"What a greedy girl. Don't worry baby, I'll treat you well tonight."

If his slow thrust already had your mind fuzzy from the pain of the stretch and pleasure, his callous and frenzied pace got you praying as he released shockwaves after shockwaves of bliss to shatter your bones and down to your trembling legs.

You barely had the mind to bite onto the sheet to muffle your cry as he drove manically behind you. 

Seeing this, Miguel grew displeased. Despite knowing the reason for your actions, he wanted to hear how well he fucks you. It was childish trying to outdo someone he'd never encounter again but his pride is bruised.

That fucker got the chance to devour and have you pliant and panting under him for decades while he withered back in his lab trying to get rid of his unwanted addiction.

The bastard has ingrained himself into your body for years and he can't have that.

There should only be one man you should think about at night and be reminded of when you sit to feel the soreness rendering your lower body boneless.

"I'm gonna install noise suppressors in our room tomorrow then you'd be free to scream my name whenever you like, mi vida. You know how I love it when you cry for me."

You didn't say anything but instead nodded frantically. Fire licked every inch of your skin as the familiar tightness in your abdomen appeared, lightning shooting up your spine with every savage thrusts.

There was nothing else you could think of, focused on reaching your deserved nirvana and desperately shaking your hips to meet his thrust. Seeing how fucked and blissed out you were, Miguel groaned before swatting the globes of your ass, pulling a mewl from you.

"Look at you, so cock drunk for me. So beautiful… It makes me wanna tease you a little."

Feeling your orgasm being torn away as he slows, you whine and reach back to grab his hips, forcing him to piston in and out of you with a mewl. Miguel watched you with heavy lidded eyes, he has never seen such a sinful yet delicious sight until now.

If there was a scene he could ingrain into the back of his eyelids, this would be it. 

You, so desperate for a release and trying to chase it when he refused to. Eyes glazed with tears of frustration as you gave up trying to control his hips and bucked your hips like a madwoman into his dick.

There's no such thing as guilt when he got to witness you in such a vulnerable state, only gratefulness.

"Mi cielo, please! Move, I want to come so bad please…!"

He had a different plan for the evening but if you begged so sweetly like that, there's nothing he wouldn't give you.

A house, a new ring with the biggest gemstone you love, the world, the universe or something as simple as a climax becomes acquirable if you want them so badly, he'd give it all to you.

"Anything for you, cariño."

Despite the callousness of his touch driven with wanderlust and desperation to the point of passionate worshiping, Miguel differs from your husband by being love-starved and his brimming confidence in pleasing you a hundred ways before tomorrow without breaking a sweat.

A welcomed and fresh change nonetheless, the difference only led you to fall deeper in love with him.

He drove his dick back into you with a fresh yet ravenous pace, pulling back till his cockhead remains before plunging all of himself in. Miguel's nails dug deep into your flesh enough to make you fear for a permanent dent in them.

Your skin flared as the coil in your stomach reawakened, tightening further and further with every thrust. The warmth is maddening yet deliciously addictive as it lashes out, wrapping around your swelling heart.

"Let me come please? I want it please…! Ah!"

He leant down while his hand reached down to roll your clit in tight eights, decreasing his pace yet hitting deeper as he swept the hair behind your ear before tugging it hard.

"Give it to me, mi vida. I want it all, come around me."

With his proximity and whispered command, there was nothing else you could do but burst. 

Ecstasy easily drowns you as it floods your senses, white hot pleasure exploding behind your eyelids as you screamed into the sheets. Your orgasm rippled through you, shimmying under your skin and turning your limbs useless as they grew light.

There's nothing else you could call what you were feeling except 'heavenly'.

With the constant pulse of your velvet walls clamping down on him, Miguel soon followed with a deep resonating groan to his annoyance, painting your insides white with his liquid arousal.

It was a wonder he lasted this long after having only his hands to entertain him for years in the laboratory and spider hub. Nonetheless, he has his life to spend with you, years where he could discover and evoke your deepest desires. 

Placing gentle kisses on your shoulders, he grinned. "Te amo cariño."

"I love you more…" You mumbled back, exhaustion weighing your eyelids. You barely picked up his clicking tongue before he spoke up, sounding determined as if it was set in stone.

"No sleeping, mi vida. We're not done yet, I have months to make up, no?"

[k8martins]

˗ˏˋ ˎˊ˗ but i’m a cheerleader! 𒀭

summary: cheerleader!reader secretly crushes on kate martin, but thinks she hates her until they share a hotel at an away game

warnings: 18+, smut w plot, enemies to lovers if u squint

a/n: i hope i snapped with this one it took forever and i also hope y’all get the reference w the title…

——————————————————————————

the cheer team huddled together to chant one last “go hawks” before practice was over, and the gym was then handed over to the women’s basketball team. they always managed to come in as soon as you were done, not wasting a moment of their practice; especially because they had a highly anticipated away game the next day. the team quickly flooded the court, ready to begin stretches.

you hurriedly picked up your water bottle and began walking off the court, bustling through the basketball girls. just mere steps from being out of their way, you bumped shoulders with one athlete in particular. it happened to be a girl named kate, who seemed to have a bit of a problem with you for no good reason. any jab she took at you, she said it with a confusing smile.

“aren’t you guys done yet,” kate sneered looking back at you, her expression a mix of irritation and laughter.

deciding not to engage, you continued walking forward, although kate’s comment embarrassingly made your stomach flip. she goes out of her way to chirp at you, but looks so good doing it.

“what’s her problem?” your teammate asked as she caught up to you.

shaking your head you told her, “i don’t know, we don’t even know each other that much.”

“well coach gave us our hotel details and we’re sharing a hotel with them tomorrow,” she informed, looking intently with concern.

you shot her a look with your eyebrows furrowed, “really?”

“yeah… if you run into her i swear to god,” your teammate huffed.

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying not to appear flustered at the thought of being in the same hotel as kate for a night.

walking into the locker room, your teammate looked at you like you were crazy, “fine? girl, kate borderline bullies you.”

laughing at her comment, you found yourself defending kate.

“‘bullying’ is a bit dramatic.”

“whatever,” and your teammate let it go.

———————————————————————-

the hotel was nothing special; a hilton in the middle of nowhere with assigned roommates. carrying in heavy bags was never easy, and they felt even heavier knowing that the basketball team was in the same building. as you walked into your room, all you could think about was kate. your teammates were ready to fight her, but all you wanted was to “accidentally” run into her. but for your friends’ sake, you played along with the hateful agenda.

“did we only get one room key?” your roommate asked.

you looked around the room, seeing only the one in your hand, “ummm i think so.”

sighing, she asked you to go back down to the lobby to get another room key. you agreed, making your way to the elevator and into the lobby. approaching the front desk, you noticed the basketball team’s bus had arrived. forcing yourself to look away from the girls exiting the bus and coming inside, you stepped up to the receptionist.

“hey can i get an extra room key for room num-“

you immediately stopped your words at the sound of the other athletes entering the lobby, loudly chatting and rolling their luggage.

“um...room 701 please,” you finished, taking the key from the receptionist and keeping your eyes away from the front doors. the effort to not see or be reminded of kate was in vain, for a familiar voice started from behind you.

“oh look who it is,” kate said to her friend, just loud enough for you to hear.

kate and her friend continued walking towards the elevators giggling about nothing, although she took one last glance at you from behind. she was not slick at all. you bit your tongue and approached the elevators, being too close for comfort to kate. the basketball girls took up both elevators, and you watched as they both filled and left you waiting for the next one alongside kate and one other random man. your stomach dropped at the unfortunate cutoff, knowing kate was going to take advantage of the moment.

out of the corner of your eye you saw kate staring at you. trying to suppress your breathing picking up, you prayed she would just say something, anything. sometimes you tried to deny you liked her, but it was times like these when your feelings for kate were only further confirmed. you felt your face grow hot.

“what are you so nervous for,” kate smirked.

you sighed out of annoyance and to catch your breath. facing her eye to eye, you probably looked like a deer in headlights. you tried to read her face, looking for something other than coldness, and you did find something every time you held the courage to look her in the eye. kate’s eyes glimmered as she waited for a response.

“just focusing on the game tomorrow,” you mumbled, half lying. maybe more than half.

kate shook her head, blowing air out of her nose with a light chuckle. the elevator door opened. you kept your head down and walked in, sensing kate following behind you. of course.

standing on opposite sides of the elevator, it was almost like you felt a magnetic force towards her. your mind raced, fantasizing about all the dirty things you’ve wanted for so long. the tension was thick. kate shamelessly stepped an inch closer to you, knowing exactly what she was doing.

“you know i’m just messing with you, right?”

you irritably side eyed her, no longer afraid to speak as long as she kept trying you.

“oh i’m just supposed to know that?”

kate pressed the “7” button and looked back at you, waiting for you to tell her your floor number. you rolled your eyes and shifted uncomfortably. it almost wasn’t surprising.

“we’re on the same damn floor,” you said, crossing your arms. your heart began beating even faster.

kate scoffed, her jaw dropping and turning into a dumb smile.

“no way,” she said, inching even closer to you, “what room number?” her arm was nearly touching yours and your breath hitched.

“why would i tell you that?”

she hummed as if she was thinking, and boldly shot back, “cause maybe i could get you in my room before the trip’s over.” she looked back at you, still with a knowing smile. you couldn’t hold back as a smile crept up your face, immediately looking the other way.

“yeah right,” you chirped, blushing wildly. your arms fell to your side.

“im just saying. you look so cute in that skirt of yours.”

“shut up,” you murmured.

it was like she was trying to make you pass out. the image of kate removing your black and yellow cheer skirt appeared in your mind, the tension now growing nearly unbearable. however, the elevator finally came to a stop on the seventh floor. with her hands propped on the rail behind her, kate brushed her hand against yours as she left the elevator. you followed behind her, but not too close. before walking opposite ways down the hall, kate couldn’t just let you have the last word.

“im serious, cheerleader.” kate raised her eyebrows, looking you up and down.

“we’ll see what happens.” —————————————————————————————————

the next day, iowa had won the basketball game 93-87. you cheered harder than before, with your eye on kate the entire game. if someone scored, you didn’t even notice unless it was kate. she made sure to lock eyes with you several times, whether you were taking a break on the floor or doing your latest routine. the way she held eye contact told you what you needed to know.

back at the hotel, everyone had to pack their things and move out. there wasn’t even enough time to change out of your uniform, as it was the exact time the hotel ordered guests to leave. you were turning around the corner of the hall when you heard someone call your name. whipping your head around, it was exactly who you had been waiting for.

kate wasted no time grabbing you by the wrist and leading you towards her room, no words needed. you smiled and bit your lip, only hoping that your teammates wouldn’t see you with her and ruin the moment. just as you were getting to kate’s room, you heard your coach yell a reminder.

“all cheerleaders on the cheer team must be in the lobby in less than five minutes,” your coach yelled from down and around the hall.

you stopped in your track in kate’s doorway, your mouth hung slightly open and adrenaline running.

“what are you doing, hurry come in,” kate urged.

“but i’m a cheerleader,” you said out of breath, starting to worry. if anyone cared, it was not kate.

“i know that, now come on,” kate now grabbing you by the hand.

she practically slammed the door shut, swiftly locking it. as soon as the door closed, you were pushed against the wall in a desperate kiss. kate couldn’t keep her hands off you, and immediately ran them up and down your waist. your back arched at the instant touch from kate, inevitably pushing your hips into hers. there was no way kate was going to spend less than five minutes with you. between kate’s kisses and words, she did not hold back.

“you’re so...fuckin’ sexy...” she breathlessly said, biting your bottom lip.

you moaned and grasped her hair that was now debris of a braided ponytail, eager for all of her. you both knew time was limited, and suddenly kate picked you up and put you down on the edge of the bed, only breaking the kiss to get on her knees. she placed her hands on each of your knees and looked up at you with her big blue eyes for approval. you nodded hurriedly, whispering for her to be quick. you began trying to remove your skirt, but kate’s hand flew to your wrist to push it away.

“keep it on baby,” she urged, simply pushing your skirt up. the tips of her fingers quickly found the lining of your panties, bringing them down and off your legs. it was like she disregarded your begs to be fast, because she took her time kissing the inside of your thighs and rubbing her hands on your waist. her kisses were intoxicating and she hadn’t even done anything yet. you threw your head back, desperate for more. kate agonizingly rubbed slow circles over your wetness, making you whimper and buck your hips up. she thoroughly enjoyed teasing you.

“you’ve been wanting me to fuck you for awhile, hmm? you damn near soaked your underwear baby.” kate’s words alone could’ve made you finish, her smooth voice echoing in your head as you screwed your eyes shut.

“kate, please...” you moaned out, “we’re gonna b-be la-“

as much as kate would’ve loved to keep you waiting, she moved on and plunged two fingers into your core. anything you could’ve said was cut off by the sensation of her long fingers fucking in and out of you, hitting your g spot every time. your stomach tensed and you almost screamed, but muffled it to a mere whimper. kate continued using her fingers with an unrelenting pace, keeping her face close to your heat.

“you gotta be quiet, princess,” kate said from between your thighs, although she truly didn’t care if anyone heard.

“you’re s-such an asshole,” you breathed.

“am i?”

kate’s tongue found your clit, circling it with perfect pressure and speed. it grew harder to stay quiet as your legs began to shake at kate’s combination of tongue and fingers. you hated how she treated you back at practice, but all the snarky things she said were quickly forgotten with the knot building up in your stomach. the pleasure grew greater and greater, not being able to help your legs closing around kate’s head.

“keep your legs open babe.”

you moaned feverishly at her words and the unforgiving pace she kept on your aching core. grasping at her hair, you were sure you were going to explode.

“kate i can’t take it,” you whimpered.

“yes you can,” kate said huskily against your pussy.

tears of pleasure began forming at the corners of your eyes, some spilling out. you cried that you were close, and kate gave you permission to let go. waves of pleasure rippled through your body as you released on her face, each exhale coming out as a moan.

“that’s it,” kate mumbled as she talked you through it, riding you out of your orgasm. your head was spinning and your core still throbbing when kate put your panties and shorts back on, wiping your tears away. she stood up in front of you.

“kate they’re gonna know,” you said looking up at her with your fucked out eyes.

she simply kissed you in response, a softer kiss this time. your lips were still puffy and tinging with slight pain from making out.

“here lemme...” kate mumbled as she began lifting you up from the bed. your legs felt weak as you stood next to her. when you tried to walk, you burst out laughing.

“i cant believe we just did that, kate look how i’m walking!”

“you’re fine, now let’s go,” kate giggled.

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for Elise

Request: Male Boss Minotaur x Fem Skinny Friend x Fem Chubby Reader: So basically the Reader and her Friend both like their Boss but the Reader doesn’t think that their Boss likes them. But what the Reader doesn’t know is that both the Boss and her Friend want her (and their Boss wants both of them). Sorry this is kinda short but this is the idea I hope this is okay. 😁

Are you stupid?

Minotaur x fem!human x chubby fem!reader || body worship, oral sex, sharing is caring, MFF threesome, spanking (lowkey), soft sex || tw: internalized fatphobia

“I want to have dinner with you,” your boss said as he approached the table where you and your bestie were eating lunch. You looked directly at her, obviously he liked her, why wouldn’t he? She was skinny and pretty and everything any human or monster would like (even you). Of course he would ask her out. You tried not to be hurt about it, you both liked him, and he made his choice (the obvious choice, you thought).

“Okay, when?” Your friend instantly asked, hiding her excitement and surprise as if it meant nothing that the hottest and most amazing minotaur just asked her out. But you knew her better, you knew the tilt on her eyebrow meant she was surprised. You knew her better than you knew yourself.

“Tonight. Wear something casual,” he told her. “And you…” He looked straight at you when he said it: “Wear something tight.” You gaped at him, confused. What the fuck did he mean?

“What? Me?” You asked. And then it clicked, he wanted you there so it wouldn’t be weird when he finally asked her out and they made out, you were the buffer. It made sense, but why would he ask you to wear something tight?

“Yes,” he answered curtly and left, leaving you looking at his back with a gaping mouth. What the fuck just happened?

“Yas girl, we just got ourselves a hot date!” Your friend rose her hand to high five you, and you did without thinking, not fully processing what just happened.

You laughed at her, dark thoughts crossing your mind. “You got yourself a date, I’m just the buffer,” you clarified.

Your best friend looked at you like you were stupid. “What the fuck are you saying? He has the hots for you,” she sounded so sure that you almost believed her. Almost.

“No he doesn’t. He likes you, and I get it, you are… perfect.” Your soft tone let out a lot of truths that you weren’t ready to release out in the wild yet.

Again with the incredulous eyes as she almost spit out: “What? Are you insane? You are funny and all soft and pretty and have the greatest tits in the universe.” You looked at her confused, what the fuck was she talking about?

“I- What?” You asked, completely thrown back by her words. Did she really think that about you?

“We got ourselves a date, both of us. Stop arguing,” she added as she got up and left you there, even more confused than before.

You couldn’t think about anything else for the rest of the day, anticipation and dread building inside of you at the same time.

You were back at home (you shared a house to save some money on rent) when she entered your room. “Put this on,” she ordered, giving you a piece of fabric that probably wouldn’t cover your ass cheeks.

You looked at her with skepticism, but you put it on just to shut her up. It fitted you like a second skin, your tummy and ass squeezed with the fabric. Your boobs looked fantastic, though, but it wasn’t you. You looked at the mirror and almost didn’t recognize yourself in that kind of outfit. You couldn’t bend down without exposing your whole pussy and ass, it was that short. And you… kind of liked it.

“I can’t go out like this!” You told her exiting the bathroom, trying to pull down the hem but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover you anymore.

She gaped at you, her eyes big as plates. “You look… You look phenomenal,” she let out after a pause, licking her lips as she checked you out slowly. “Come here,” she asked, and you complied, still self-conscious about all the rolls the dress showed. “You look perfect, he’s going to lose his mind the same way I just did.” She grabbed you by the waist and plastered her body to yours, her face millimeters away from yours.

You looked at her with a tiny smile, thinking she was just playing. “What are you doing?” Your tone was amused.

“I’m kissing you senseless so you stop thinking you aren’t the hottest girl in the whole world,” she said before she closed the distance and attacked your mouth with desperation.

You were shocked for a total of two seconds before you were responding the kiss with equal fervor and need. She parted and squeezed your ass, the tip of her fingers caressing the lower part of your ass cheek, the dress was definitely way too short.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, dizzy.

“Because I’m tired of pretending I’m not in love with you and want to bury my face between your tits until I suffocate,” she let out. You stared at her, gaping like a fish and probably looking stupid, but you couldn’t stop.

“I- I…” You didn’t know what to say. “I love you, too,” you finally let out, baring your heart to her and feeling like a thousand kilos lifted from your chest.

“Now come on, let’s blow his mind so we can be a power thruple,” she joked to reduce the tension in the air. But you didn’t laugh.

“He wants only you either way, he only invited me because I was there and it would have been weird otherwise,” you said with a self-depreciating laugh.

She turned around and looked at you with anger flaring in her eyes: “Are you stupid? Do you like being stupid?” She asked, her tone accusing.

“I only tell the facts.” You were sure of it, there was no way your hot as hell best friend just kissed you because she liked you AND your hot minotaur boss also liked you, you couldn’t be that lucky, not a chance in hell.

“Okay, dummy, if he gapes at you like a fish when he sees you in that outfit I get to spank your ass tonight,” she threatened and you shivered. A whole body shiver.

How did she know you were into spanking? You never discussed your sex life with her… Or maybe you did when you were drunk at the last Christmas party. Shit, you definitely did tell her that. Oh goddess, you were going to die of embarrassment.

“And if he doesn’t?” You asked, your face red as a tomato at that point.

“If he doesn’t, you get to tell me I told you so.” You did love to tell her that when you were right.

“Deal.” You were going to win for sure.

But she was right, and you fucking lost.

He not only gaped at you, but as soon as you entered, he reached to grab your waist and pulled you to his body to devour your mouth. As your friend (girlfriend?) cheered and patted you in the back, his roaming hands groped your ass until your panties were wet and uncomfortable, and your heart was about to explode from your chest. He pulled back and grabbed your friend in the same way, kissing her senseless until she was groaning and you were dripping wet just looking at them.

He was breathing hard when you three pulled apart. “You both look fantastic, I’ve been waiting to do that since you were hired,” he confessed in a low tone.

“But you… You are the boss,” you told him, dizzy from arousal and confusion. Your brain didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Was that really happening? Good goddess, were you dreaming? Was all that a dream? Were you in an accident?

He didn’t even blink before saying: “Which means we all should visit the HR department tomorrow morning.”

“Why?” You asked, still not knowing what was happening.

“Because you two are now mine,” his growl made you shiver as you felt your girlfriend’s hand on your leg, comforting you.

Oh shit, you just got yourself a boyfriend AND a girlfriend, what the fuck?

You three joked and had fun until midnight, when he, being the gentle minotaur he was, walked you two to your shared apartment and kissed you goodbye. It was the hottest and most decadent kiss you ever received, and when he kissed your best friend you whimpered. She chuckled and grabbed your neck, devouring your mouth, too. Good goddess you loved when she got all controlling like that.

“You,” he pointed your minotaur boss (boyfriend?), “need to go home. And I, need to spank her ass because I won a bet.” She pulled the back of your dress up, exposing your ass to the night and groping you until you groaned. She smirked at you as your boss groaned like it pained him.

“Don’t do this to me, now I will have to jerk off twice before going to bed,” he whined, readjusting what looked like a huge erection in his pants.

“Have fun with your hand, big guy. We’ll see you tomorrow and if everything goes well… You might get lucky and get to spank her ass, too.” The fact that she was offering that without even considering you about it shouldn’t be hot, but you couldn’t contain the groan that escaped your mouth.

“Oh goddess, I might have to do it three times… You two are going to kill me,” he lamented without any sadness behind it, kissing your forehead and hers and going back to his car.

You two watched him go, and when you were safely back inside, you felt a hand squeezing your ass in a very naughty way. She guided you to your bedroom and spanked you until you cried, and then fucked you with your favorite dildo until you came all over yourself, your poor sheets not making it. You had to sleep with her as she complained jokingly. But it was her fault, after all.

The morning after, everything felt happier and brighter, and when you two had breakfast in comfortable silence you couldn’t avoid having horny thoughts about your girlfriend and boss going at it over the counter. She winked at you like she knew what you were thinking, and slapped your tender ass as you walked to the car. You whimpered as she laughed, you never felt more desired.

Your boss was waiting at the door of the HR department, looking handsome as hell as you walked to him. He looked like he wanted to kiss you senseless again, but he refrained and opened the door so you two could go first. You had to sign some papers about not suing the company and all that law stuff, and when everything was set, he grabbed your waist and bent you back, kissing you like in the movies and leaving you breathless. He did the same with your girlfriend (now shared girlfriend), and walked out saying he had some calls to make but he would meet you two later.

You walked to your desk in a daze and the work tasks seemed impossible for a long while.

“We have a meeting in five minutes,” your girlfriend said as she stopped next to your desk about an hour later.

“We have?” You looked at her panicked, you didn’t have any meeting in your calendar. You didn’t prepare. What was the meeting even about?

“Yes. Move your pretty ass, come on.” You were still panicking when she dragged you all the way to the meeting room, where your boss was already sitting on his big chair, legs far apart and cock out, slowly stroking himself. You almost swallowed your tongue.

“Wha- what are we doing here?” You asked, your panties already wet just seeing his huge juicy cock disappearing in his fist. It was the most erotic sight you’ve ever seen, you wanted to fall to your knees and swallow him to the root (which was very hopeful because you probably couldn’t even get half of him in your mouth without choking).

“I heard that my girlfriend didn’t think I was into her, so I decided we needed a team meeting to rectify that,” your boss-boyfriend explained, his hand working non-stop over his shaft.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“Get naked and bend over the table. Now,” your girlfriend ordered and you looked between the two.

“What?” You couldn’t comprehend anything. Did they talk about you? Did your girlfriend told him that? You felt your face getting redder and redder.

“Now, darling,” he repeated in a softer tone.

You complied, still confused about what was happening. When you were face down on the table, you heard them whispering behind you, not sure about what they were saying. Soon after you felt rough hands caressing your sides and your ass, such a soft touch that you shivered. Two softer hands joined, touching you everywhere. It was like a combined massage and you were rapidly losing your mind.

A hand pushed your legs apart, and a tongue found your center. You wanted to look over your shoulder and see who it was, but they didn’t let you, a hand in your back pressing you against the table. The tongue was replaced with another, and then both of them were licking your pussy in tandem, worshiping you as they groaned. Their hands were groping your ass and tummy, you could feel them everywhere.

“Please…” You begged, almost there but not quite. They were playing with you, getting you almost to orgasm and backing down. You were desperate.

“I know darling, I know… Just let go.” Your minotaur said, a finger entering your pussy slowly and tenderly. You groaned again, and let yourself surrender to pleasure.

They were everywhere, they surrounded your body with caresses and kisses, hands roaming everywhere as you laid there, unable to move as they worshiped your body. It was the softest and most intense experience of your life. The orgasm kept building, slowly and surely, and by the time you were about to come, a harsh hand landed on your ass, making you cry out as you fell apart under their attention.

You were still panting when your girlfriend whispered against your ear: “You did great.” She kissed your cheek and caressed your hair softly.

“Such a good girl for us,” your boyfriend added, kissing your forehead.

“I don’t think I can walk,” you responded, half joking, half telling the truth.

“Good thing my penthouse is right at the top of the building,” your boyfriend said, taking your body off the table like you weighted nothing. You were about to protest that you were too heavy when he talked again: “If you say you are too big, I’m going to spank you until you can’t sit in a week,” he threatened.

“Don’t tempt her, she’s a good girl, but she loves to be a good slut, too.” You blushed hard, hiding your face against your boss’ neck as they both laughed.

“Let’s go to my house so we can finish what we started,” his tone was rough and deep, like the sea at night.

“What?” You asked, as the same time your girlfriend said: “What do you mean?”

“Oh, darling, if you think you aren’t going to be full of cum when I’m done with you, you are heavily mistaken. And that goes for both of you,” he added, bending down to kiss your girlfriend’s open mouth.

[sparklingchim]

you're losing me 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance

rating: 18+

warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingering, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks

summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.

a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3

you're losing me masterlist

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Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.

And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.

Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.

So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.

You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.

“You’re trending on Twitter.”

As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.

“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.

“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.

“Oh.”

Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”

You giggle, swatting his arm.

You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.

It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.

You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.

“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.

“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.

“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.

“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”

Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”

“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,

“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.

“I’ll think about it.”

They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.

As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.

The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.

You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.

~

2 weeks ago

“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.

You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”

“Love, if you are potentially-”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”

You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”

“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.

“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.

“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”

You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.

The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.

“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.

In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.

But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.

“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”

You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.

“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.

Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.

You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.

Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.

“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.

“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.

Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.

But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.

“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.

Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.

“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.

“You know you can when you’re with me.”

You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”

“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.

“But there’s no point in denying it.”

“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.

“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”

“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”

“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.

“I think so.”

“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.

~

Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.

There had been nothing to worry.

You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.

Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.

Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.

“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.

As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.

Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.

And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.

Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.

“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.

“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.

You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.

He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”

You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.

“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”

You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”

A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.

“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.

“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.

Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”

Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”

~

When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.

You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.

Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”

“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.

Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.

“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.

“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”

A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.

His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.

“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”

His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.

“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.

“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”

Your lips pull together in a confused pout.

“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.

“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”

“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.

“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”

Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.

“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”

“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”

“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.

“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.

“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”

“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.

“___!” someone yells your name.

You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink

You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”

Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.

“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”

But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.

“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.

“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”

“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”

Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.

You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.

He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.

“Are there condoms left here?”

You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.

“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”

As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”

You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.

Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.

Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.

Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.

As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.

“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”

“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”

“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.

You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.

You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.

Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.

“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”

You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.

“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”

He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.

“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.

“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.

You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.

“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.

“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.

“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.

You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.

“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.

Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.

Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.

“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.

But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.

“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.

It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.

But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.

“Why would you do that? I was close!”

He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.

“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.

“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”

He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.

“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”

“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.

“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”

“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”

Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.

“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”

“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”

“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”

“I am good,” you try to convince him.

Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”

While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.

“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.

Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.

“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”

“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”

Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”

“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.

The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.

“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.

“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”

It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.

“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”

“Please.”

“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”

“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.

“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.

It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.

Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.

“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”

And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”

Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.

Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.

You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.

“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.

“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.

“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.

After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.

“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.

“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.

Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”

[kbwrites]

Collision Course

synopsis: Ryomen Sukuna, heavyweight champion and your ex-boyfriend gets a wake up call when he is injured for the first time during a fight.

⚝content: boxer!Sukuna x f!reader, reader is a physiotherapist, slight angst, nsfw, choking, Toji beating Sukuna's ass bc I said so

⚝wc: 2.4k

⚝a/n: working on the requests I've gotten in the past month. This one was fun!

Ryomen Sukuna, the heavyweight champion of the world, stood in the center of the ring, his piercing gaze locked onto his opponent his focus was razor-sharp, body coiled like a spring. The crowd’s roar surged around him, but his eyes were fixed on one man—Toji Fushiguro, his gaze dark and unreadable. This wasn’t just a match—it was a reckoning, a confrontation years in the making.

The bell rang, and the arena erupted. Ryomen moved like a predator, his punches fast and lethal. But Toji met every strike with equal force, counters precise, his movements a dance of calculated power. Each round was a brutal display of skill, neither willing to back down, the anticipation in the crowd building with every punch.

Then, in the eighth round, it happened. Sukuna, sensing victory within reach, unleashed a devastating hook aimed at Toji’s jaw. His muscles coiled with the familiar rush of adrenaline, a primal drive to end the fight. But Toji, with an unsettling calm, sidestepped the attack with almost supernatural precision. In that split second of realization, Sukuna's heart pounded, the moment feeling like slow motion. With a swift sidestep, he avoided the blow and delivered a crushing punch directly to Sukuna’s shoulder. The sound of the impact was sickening—a sharp crack that seemed to echo through the arena. Pain flared instantly, his arm falling limp as he staggered back, the once unbreakable champion now vulnerable.

The crowd’s roar turned into a collective gasp. He gritted his teeth, the realization dawning that he was injured—seriously so.

The world spun, a dizzying blur of lights and colors. The roar of the crowd was a distant murmur. His mind struggled to make sense of the situation, the sharp sting of defeat sinking in as he replayed the moment Toji’s punch landed.  That scar-faced grin, a haunting image in the corner of his mind, lingered as he was wheeled through the narrow corridor.

This wasn’t happening. It had to be some nightmare. But it wasn’t… Ryomen, the undefeated champion–had been defeated.

The doors to the medical suite swing open, and your eyes see something they'd never dreamed of. Ryomen Sukuna on a stretcher, holding his shoulder as his face contorted in pain. You walked over to him, helping the medic team move him to a table.

As Sukuna settled onto the table, his gaze met yours you glanced at him with a wry smile and said, “I thought you said you don’t lose.”

He grins through the pain, his normal confidence shining through. 

“You know I can’t stay away from you for too long.”

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

It was never going to work. That’s what you told yourself. He was in a different world from you completely, one full of glitz and glory, a realm of raw power and relentless ambition. You had tried to convince yourself that the divide was too vast, that his world and yours were irreconcilable. But every night, as you laid next to him, it all seemed to blur, if only for a moment.

The clock ticked past midnight, you sat on the counter of your apartment’s kitchen. Eating the cup noodles as you swung your feet lazily. He had sworn he would be home early, that tonight would be different, that he’d finally make time for you amidst his whirlwind schedule.

And yet here you were. Waiting for him. Again.

The sudden clatter of keys and the turn of the doorknob sliced through the silence of your apartment. You rolled your eyes, finishing the last of your ramen with a resigned sigh.

The door swung open, and Sukuna walked in, his presence as commanding as ever. Without missing a beat, he headed straight for the kitchen where you sat. His gaze softened slightly as he approached, a smirk playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he reached for you, his lips descending toward yours in a kiss that was supposed to bridge the gap his absence had created. But as his lips neared, you caught the sharp tang of alcohol on his breath.

You pulled back just slightly, a flicker of irritation crossing your face. “You’re late,” you said, your tone a mixture of frustration and fatigue.

Ryomen, still maintaining his confident demeanor, shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Had a long night,” he said bluntly, his voice laced with a casual charm that only made your blood boil.

Without a word, you slipped off the counter and turned away, heading towards the living room. The anger you had tried to suppress now surged to the surface, and you could feel your pulse quickening with every step.

The pink-haired boxer followed, his irritation rising as he caught up to you. “What’s the problem now?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

You keep walking, refusing to face him “There’s no problem.”

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “Don’t play games with me.” He warns.

You met his gaze, the space between you crackling with tension. “I’m not playing games.” you shot back, your voice tight.

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. “What do you want from me, woman? You think I can just drop everything and cater to your every whim?”

His crimson eyes bore into yours, you felt the beat of your heart in your chest. He closed the gap, your chest pressing against his broad one.

“I’m tired.” You grit your teeth, glaring up at your boyfriend.

“If you’re so tired of this, then why the hell are you still here waiting for me?”

His proximity and the rawness of his gaze made your heart pound even harder. The tension between you was palpable, the argument morphing. Without thinking, you closed the gap between you, your lips crashing into his with a fervor born of frustration and longing.

Sukuna responded with equal passion, his grip on you tightening as he deepened the kiss. The fight in his touch gave way to an urgent need, the argument transforming into a fierce, all-consuming embrace. The anger, the pain, and the desire all melded together, creating a storm of emotion that swept over both of you.

You walk backward to your bed, the back of your knees hitting the bed frame. Ryomen’s larger frame pushed you onto the bed, trapping you between his arms. He was rough in the ring—even rougher in bed.

His lips left your now bruised ones, moving immediately to your neck. His teeth leaving small bites along your pulse point—tongue darting out to soothe the pain. Your soft moans and whimpers echo in his ears. He rolls his hips into yours, his erection grinding against the growing wet spot in your panties.

“F-fuck… Ryo” You breathe as he unclasped your bra. His mouth latches to your nipple, expert tongue swirling around the swollen bud. His eyes flutter shut as he loses himself in your chest.

Rough hands roam your body, touch setting your skin ablaze.

Ryomen tugs your panties to the side, thick finger gathering your slick before plunging into your sopping wet cunt. He pumps in and out, mouth switching to your other nipple as his digits explore your gummy walls.

“S-shitshitshit Ryomennn~” You whine as your back arches into him. He picks up the pace, fingers scissoring inside of you as your hole clenched around him. He releases your nipple, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Heh… thought you were tired.” His voice rumbles against your skin. If you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve cussed his ass out but–

With an expert curl of his finger your vision goes hazy as you cum on his fingers. Not even giving you a minute to recover, he replaces his thick digits with the fat head of his cock.

He slides his throbbing length up and down your folds, tip kissing your clit before pushing into your tight entrance.

“Oh fuucckkk.” You whine as the stretch causes tears to prick your eyes. Ryomen hooks your legs over his broad shoulders. He reaches between your bodies to rub your clit, slow deliberate circles as his thick member is swallowed by your walls. He lets out a low groan as he bottoms out.

“Think you can… keep this fuckin’ pussy from me?” He mumbles slamming into your cunt, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he moves your legs from his shoulders to your ears. He loved folding you in half. You loved it too.

His pace was relentless, you felt every vein of his cock brush against your gummy walls. He always made you feel deliciously full. His large hand wraps around your neck, pressing gently on the sides.

“C-close Ryo–” You choke out.

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, feeling you flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm, reveling in the way your body writhed and shook underneath him. He felt the tightening in his balls as he pulled out. He removed his hand from your neck, wrapping it tightly around his cock.

He pumped a few times, thick ropes of hot cum decorated your stomach. His now sensitive tip smearing it around your tummy. Your chest heaves as your try to catch your breath, his crimson eyes raking over you. How delicious you looked out of breath–covered in his seed.

After wiping you down he lays next to you, resting his back against the headboard.  You turned onto your side, gaze tracing the lines of your boyfriend's face. His gaze fixed on you with tired eyes. Even now, in the quiet aftermath, that world tugged at him, pulling him away from you, bit by bit. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, a mix of weariness and resignation as if he knew this moment was fleeting, a brief respite before he had to dive back into the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

You reached out, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. For a brief moment, his gaze softened. His hand covered yours, warm and reassuring.

“You checkin’ my vitals doc?” he teased, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. But even that couldn’t mask the exhaustion in his voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You question softly, he would never tell you the truth–you knew this. But all the late nights, the endless grind—it would catch up to him eventually. He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, his larger hand tightening over yours.

And as if on cue, the buzz of his phone shattered the fragile peace, pulling him away from you once more. He let out a sigh, grabbing the phone from the nightstand.

“I’ve got to go,” he muttered, voice flat as he moved to the edge of the bed.

You blinked, the sudden shift jarring. “What? Why? It’s the middle of the night.”

He sighed, grabbing his jacket. “Uraume needs me to make an appearance. Some sponsor event they couldn’t reschedule.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him to stay, but the words caught in your throat, weighed down by exhaustion. You were so tired—tired of fighting, tired of being second to everything else in his life. Instead, you just watched him get dressed, the silence between you stretching thin.

“Go, do what you have to do.” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. ”

Sukuna paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded and turned away, leaving you alone with the cold emptiness that settled in his absence.

It was never going to work. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ𖥔 ִ ་  ، ˖ ࣪  ་  ˖  ʿ

The memory faded, leaving behind a dull ache in your chest. You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. Ryomen looked up at you from the examination table, his crimson eyes still holding that same piercing intensity.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you focused on his injury, your hands moving with practiced precision. Despite your efforts to detach, to keep things strictly professional, you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze followed your every move or the subtle tension in his jaw.

“You must be loving this, huh? Seeing me like this.” His tone was harsh, almost daring you to pity him, his arrogance a brittle shield against the humiliation gnawing at him.

“I know you better than those people out there–you’re gonna be fine.” You say calmly.

He chuckles dryly. “You might be the only one that thinks that right now.”

A moment of quiet settled over the medical suite as you continued your examination. The soft hum of the lights overhead and the occasional shuffle of your movements were the only sounds breaking the tense silence. You carefully touched his shoulder, feeling for the extent of the damage.

Sukuna winced, his face momentarily contorting with the sharp flare of pain. His breathing grew shallow, and he looked away, clearly trying to mask his discomfort behind a mask of indifference.

“You've torn your rotator cuff,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of the news. You could see the frustration in his eyes, the pride that struggled to keep his embarrassment at bay.

“Rotator cuff?” he repeated, his tone a mix of irritation and disbelief.

“Yes,” you confirmed, examining the area with a practiced touch. “It’s a significant injury, but with proper treatment and rehabilitation, you’ll recover. It’ll take some time and effort, but it’s manageable.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he clenched his teeth, trying to hide the strain. “Great,” he muttered, his voice taut with frustration. “Just what I needed.”

He looked at you with a mixture of exasperation and reluctant admiration.

“I was… an ass to you.” He mumbles.

“You were.” your tone matter-of-fact.

“Alright...” He warned, taking a deep breath.

“If I’m going to be stuck with this damn injury, I might as well have someone who knows what they’re doing handling it.”

He gave you a sideways glance, a mix of challenge and an unspoken request in his eyes. Despite his bravado, there was a trace of acknowledgment in his words, an unspoken plea for your help.

As you nodded, accepting his challenge with a wry smile, a familiar ache settled in your chest. You knew, deep down, that no matter how many times you tried to distance yourself, you could never really be done with him. The stubborn part of you that cared too much, that felt the pull of his presence like gravity, couldn’t quite let go.

“Let’s get you back in the ring.”

[planetaryupscaled]

Birthday Present

Male OC x Wonyoung

Tags: 11k, creampie, dub con, tw

The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

This wasn’t what Wonyoung had planned — she didn’t expect the ‘casual’ party to blow out of proportion like this!

Loud music was blaring throughout the entire house, and a countless stream of teenagers was littering every inch of the building. She wasn’t even able to return to the living room without having to squeeze through multiple groups, by the stairs and in the hallway. Sure, it was her boyfriend’s home, but she knew that most of the clean-up would become her duty.

“Hey!” Wonyoung attempted to gain some attention of those around her. ‘Guys, could you,’ she continued timidly before even she realized that her words were completely drowned out by the music.

“Could you just… could anyone turn down the music a little? Please…”

It was no use. She was forced to keep on trying to reach the living room and to lower the volume herself.

Truth be told, this was a mess of her own making.

It had been her job to make it a special event. Her boyfriend had asked her to help with the preparations for his little brother’s birthday party. But even he probably didn’t anticipate that Wonyoung would manage to gather a crowd of this size, certainly not on short notice.

Wonyoung loved helping people, always did. She was part of the school committee, she was the representative for her class members, and she was the head cheerleader. It wasn’t that she sought out those positions, they simply ended up in her lap. Helping others brought a smile to her face, and in turn, people happily relied on her. Her generosity was widely known and accepted.

So there was no question about it. When her boyfriend asked her to help out with the preparations, she did.

It took a couple of phone calls, but her friends were happy to party! But then those friends invited more friends, and then the circle just kept on growing. She hadn’t intended for the small birthday celebration to explode into a full-blown party. She didn’t even recognize most of the faces that were present! Hell, plenty of the unfamiliar guys looked old enough to be advanced college students. Which was weird, most of her friends had just finished high school or recently entered college. There was an unexpected wide range of ages present.

“Hyeon!” She finally spotted her boyfriend near the speakers, and gestured for him to turn the music down just a little. It took him a moment to figure out her signals, but then he obliged. It was finally possible to have a normal conversation.

“Thank you so, so much!” It was a blessing to finally be able to hear herself again. She pushed her way past a few more unfamiliar faces and then gave him a hug — mostly to reassure herself. His tall, muscular frame was like a beacon of safety and comfort in this mess.

“What’s up? You doing all right?” Hyeon looked down at her and brushed a few stray strands of her dark hair from her face. They were a cute couple, and an exotic one at that. He was a just your average high school jock with skin as pale as a bottle of milk. While she was not just your typical average high school cheerleader, to the contrary. Wonyoung extremely pretty. Her pale caramel skin, as well as her dark brown eyes, made her quite the treat.

“Yeah, it’s just… how is your brother holding up? I know he’s pretty shy so maybe this isn’t… you know, optimal? I may have overdone it a little with the party? I think.” Wonyoung reflected on her words and felt a pinch of guilt. It was meant to be a perfect event, but instead she perceived it to be chaotic. Her inner perfectionist was ringing the alarm bells.

“This is totally on me…” Wonyoung sulked and briefly lowered her gaze. Hyeon however, gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“You did great, babe. I’m sure he’s having a good… time…?” Hyeon cut off his sentence after he spotted his little brother nearby. He was walking down the stairway with a camcorder in hand, with no sign of shyness.

“Is that Hajoon?” He went for a quick double- take. They both turn to observe his little brother, who was in the process of celebrating his birthday by holding up his old camcorder and recording the multitude of drunken, scantily dressed high school and college girls. It was going to be a memory he wouldn’t erase anytime soon.

“That does remind me,” Hyeon added as he redirected his attention back to Wonyoung. “He’s been struggling to, uh… to get laid… do you think you could hook him up with one of your friends?” He paused as he realized how silly his own words were, but it wouldn’t be the weirdest favor he had asked for.

“It would be one hell of a gift,” he continued. ‘I would owe you big time. He would finally stop mentioning how he wants to have his first time.’ He briefly paused and scratched the back of his head. “You can imagine how awkward it is, when your little brother tells you about wanting to get laid. I’m not even sure if he’s picky anymore, he just wants to hump a girl.”

Wonyoung grimaced slightly — truth be told, she had already tried in the past to get Hajoon into a relationship! Everybody deserves to be happy. So when she learned of Hajoon’s bad history with the ladies, she tried to get him to date one of her friends.

But he was simply too reclusive and way too much into his computer and board games. Unlike his older brother, he also wasn’t in good shape physically. He was quite chubby and made no effort to improve that situation. If only there was some way to help him. She sighed.

“I don’t know. I guess I can give it another try, sure! Let me find some liquid courage first, though.” There was no need to stay sober throughout the party, she figured. People were having a good time, so why shouldn’t she try to do the same? Who knows what the day may have in store for her.

Hajoon however, was pretty much in heaven. It didn’t take much for someone of his age to be entertained. He had never seen this many drunk girls in one place.

“Guys, are you seeing this? Jack. Pot.” He swayed the camcorder around and got a few more good shots of the surrounding girls — fortunately none of them recognized him or knew who the party was for. “Guys!” He briefly turned to ensure his two buddies were still following close behind.

“Come on, let’s keep looking!” Hajoon didn’t have many friends, partly because very few people shared his obsessions for indoor activities. But Jin and Sehun always had his back. Whether it was computer gaming, board games, anything. They kept each other company.

“What’s going on over he—ohh…” Hajoon’s voice trailed off as he pushed past another couple of teens and had a look into the kitchen. Lined up along the entire length of the kitchen counter were bottles of whiskey, vodka and other beverages. Right next to those were like a dozen plastic cups full of freshly mixed drinks, with a few empty cups scattered across the floor.

This really felt like a wild college party.

What really caught the boy’s attention however, was a young couple near the corner of the kitchen. The boy looked old enough to be a college graduate, while the girl looked freshly out of high school. What drew all attention, was where the guy’s hand was planted — deep inside her pants! His digits were moving erratically and he was quite obviously finger-fucking her.

Oddly enough it didn’t coax much of a reaction out of the girl. She had her gaze averted to the ground with a glassy-eyed stare. Were all girls like this? Hajoon murmured.

“He’s totally going at it! I’ve never seen that in real life!” Hajoon feverishly tried to zoom in with his camcorder, but failed to record anything significant before a few more guys approached from behind and firmly pushed him right out of the kitchen. It was written all across his face that he wasn’t old enough to be anywhere near alcohol. Old enough to drive a car or own a gun maybe, but not old enough to drink booze.

In the meantime, Wonyoung had a few of those drinks herself, back in the living room. Aside from an unusually salty taste, they didn’t raise any suspicion. Maybe a bit strong on the alcohol content, but decent.

However, it took her only a few minutes before she began to feel funny. More than just drunk, she felt sluggish but without feeling tired. She also felt weirdly out of breath.

Hyeon noticed rather quickly that she was behaving very unusual. She was a lightweight, but the drinks shouldn’t do more than making her feel tipsy and giddy. They certainly shouldn’t make her so… docile? She looked stoned rather than drunk.

“Wonyoung, are you all right?” He could tell that something wasn’t right.

As soon as he said that, the wheels in his head began to turn and he had another look around. In the midst of all the music and commotion, nobody had even noticed that some girls were passed out on the couch, and a random guy was sleeping on the carpet.

It made him furious to realize that someone pulled an unacceptable prank. Someone had slipped drugs into the drinks. Maybe just sleeping pills, maybe a roofie. It didn’t make a difference.

“Ah, what the hell,” he muttered under his breath before shutting down the speaker system and raising his voice to draw the attention of his guests.

“Party is over! Some asshole spiked the drinks, everyone out!” He then repeated himself once more while untangling a kissing couple that hadn’t paid attention.

The commotion had been enough to draw Hajoon’s attention as well, who quickly approached his older sibling to offer his help.

“Just in time, here.” Hyeon pushed Wonyoung into his brother’s arms while his eyes were already going back to scanning the area. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the girls who had multiple of the altered drinks and were straight up passed out. Thankfully Wonyoung was still able to stand on her own, though she was not quite grasping what was happening.

“Get her upstairs,” Hyeon instructed while giving his brother a reassuring pat on the back. “I’ll take care of the party so just get her upstairs.”

Hajoon hesitated and looked back at him with a surprised expression. Like a deer stuck in headlights. He had no idea that the drinks had been spiked so this was a confusing moment.

“Upstairs, to one of the bedrooms, what are you waiting for? I got my hands full here,” he instructed before he once more surveyed the situation. A couple guys stared at the drugged girls, so he started there and ushered the creeps out of the house. He certainly didn’t want to be the person who allowed girls to be roofied and taken advantage of at his own home.

It had all been so hectic that he didn’t even pay attention to his younger brother anymore.

Wonyoung still felt a little weird, less energetic than before. She kept an arm around Hajoon while he led her upstairs. Her surroundings didn’t even register to her until she heard the door closing behind herself, at which point she turned to see Hajoon staring right back at her.

There had been a colossal misunderstanding. As far as Hajoon knew, his older brother had just set him up with his girlfriend. A favor for sure, but an incredibly weird one. In his eyes, it certainly made sense now why they both acted so fishy. He took another moment to contemplate the situation, and then he set his camcorder aside to approach her.

“So uh,” he began to say. “He really wants me to… with you? Is that like, some kind of birthday gift?” Wonyoung gazed back at him with vacant eyes. It wasn’t that the situation was overwhelming her, she simply couldn’t motivate herself to think about it or the implication of his words.

Her thoughts were more occupied by a warm tingle in her crotch. A very special part of her was itching for attention and the moral implications didn’t cross her thoughts.

“I guess.” The response was half-hearted and she lazily lay down on his bed. It was a small bed, designed for just one person and with messy bed covers. This clearly wasn’t the bedroom of someone who ever had a girlfriend before.

She got comfortable nonetheless and buried her face in the pillow. For a brief moment, things were quiet and peaceful…

It didn’t remain like that for long. A pair of hands reached around to unbutton her jeans, and she instinctively groaned her lazy disapproval.

“What… what are you doing back there?” Wonyoung twisted herself around and onto her back to see those same fingers grasping the waistband of her pants and gradually pulling them down. Before she had a chance to object properly, her jeans were already halfway down to her ankles and revealed what she wore underneath.

Her panties were an innocent pair of pink, frilled cotton undies.

Hajoon scarcely believed his own eyes, up to then he had assumed she was some kind of secret seductress. That she and his brother had some kinky relationship which they had been keeping hidden. That of course, she would be wearing something lewd like a thong. But no, apparently, she was truly conservative and… prudish?

The old, washed-out fabric clung snugly to the shape of her vulva. Despite her unsexy taste in underwear, she obviously possessed a pussy — which was all that currently mattered to Hajoon. But if she felt conscious about her panties…

“I don’t mind, I guess they’re cute,” he mumbled while he gave her pants another tug and pulled them off completely to focus entirely on her underwear. Wonyoung was still barely reacting to his actions. She was quietly observing him. Whatever had been mixed into the drinks was keeping her sedated far beyond her control. It also didn’t help that she was feeling weirdly excited and aroused — another effect of the cocktail.

As far as Hajoon was concerned, she was simply shy about this arrangement. So when he touched her panties, grasped the soft fabric, and began to peel the material off her smooth silky skin, all he could think about was losing his virginity with her help.

It was a gradual process, he didn’t want to rush this considering how relaxed she seemed to be. Maybe she wanted this to be romantic, who knows. After all the struggle, finally, Wonyoung's perfectly smooth-shaven pussy was revealed. This discovery only made her more appealing.

But even under the effect of alcohol and whatever else had been mixed into the drinks, Wonyoung gradually felt her heart beating faster. Adrenaline began to pump through her at an alarming rate. Her mind began to grasp that she was about to have sexual intercourse with someone other than her boyfriend.

“Uhmm.” She paused for a moment. It was so damned difficult to gather her thoughts and think straight. How did she end up in this situation?

Wonyoung eyes wandered up and down the view in front of her. The way Hajoon was removing her underwear. How his gaze kept fixating on her crotch. Something about this was alerting her. But just as her emotions began to take shape in more coherent thoughts, she felt another dulling wave of drowsiness washing over her.

Wonyoung leaned back, and took a deep breath. Her head rested on the cushy pillow. She watched her boyfriend’s brother tossing her underwear away before standing back up to undress. She could vaguely recall the prior chat. About hooking him up with someone. Maybe… she had volunteered? Perhaps she had agreed to help him out in a more direct way.

In her drugged state, it made just enough sense.

Her gaze was glued to him and his actions, she had never been with anyone but her boyfriend so this was new. Hajoon was without a doubt on the chubby side. And as he took off his pants, she also noted that he wasn’t particularly well endowed.

But he definitely was excited and steadily growing. Wonyoung however, was still at the mere beginnings of feeling aroused, she knew that having sex in her current state would be unpleasant. So she reluctantly reached under her shirt, pushed her bra out of the way and began to caress her breasts. Some part of her knew that this would be the only foreplay she would get. As long as she could get herself wet enough to make his entry easy, she knew that her body would take care of the rest.

Simultaneously, Hajoon held his semi-erect appendage in his fist and stroked it to life while watching her. He glanced back and forth between the motion underneath her shirt, and the triangle between her legs. The awkward teenagers continued like that for longer than either of them would care to admit.

Wonyoung eventually reached down to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and away, discarding her last piece of clothing. Her perky breasts were crowned by stiff nipples, hinting at her own growing excitement.

Her moral barrier was all but torn down, she was no longer conscious of the fact that she was about to cheat on her boyfriend. Unlike all the girls downstairs, she didn’t have anyone to keep her safe and to prevent her from committing a mistake.

Hajoon joined her side, and the bed creaked bitterly in response. The rusty bedsprings weren’t made to endure the weight of two people. He climbed on top of Wonyoung while supporting himself on his elbows, and his erection poked her belly button. He wasn’t even close to his target destination.

It coaxed a timid giggle out of her.

“Wait, I got this,” he uttered nervously. Hajoon then readjusted his angle and reached down to grasp the veiny, firm surface of his dick. It felt harder than ever before, and throbbed in tune to his nervous heartbeat. He knew that he wouldn’t last long once he was inside her, but that didn’t matter.

The bloated crown of his appendage gradually slid down towards her crotch, accompanied by a very fine trail of pre-cum which clung to her pale caramel skin. It didn’t help that he was particularly aware of some fruity adolescent perfume that surrounded her and made her even more intoxicating to be with. Everything about Wonyoung was feminine and attractive. All of this had been developing so fast that he barely had the time to fully process it. But he wasn’t about to pause.

His cock nestled in the midst of her pussy lips and he could feel his tip pressing against her skin. He gave it an inquisitive jerk forward, but merely lured a displeased groan out of her.

Wonyoung felt him awkwardly applying pressure to her clit with that bloated head of his cock. Hajoon was still a couple inches away from his target.

“It’s lower than that…” she mumbled.

Wonyoung waited another moment while he fidgeted with her genitals, before she reached down and wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft. The first thing she noticed was how warm his cock felt! After her initial surprise faded, she guided his purple cockhead down to the slit of her pussy and towards the snug embrace of her labia. She directed his dick up and down until it was decently held in place by her own body, until it was wedged in place just in front of the tiny opening that would lead inside her.

The bed squeaked as Hajoon suddenly lunged forward and buried his length inside Wonyoung pussy with a single push, just like he had seen in porn. His inexperience was painfully obvious and Wonyoung suffered the consequences of being his first.

Wonyoung inhaled sharply and tensed up. Despite being wet enough for his entry, she hadn’t been prepared to take in everything at once! Her boyfriend had never pushed into her like a savage, it had always been a slow and gradual process to open her up.

“This is amazing,” he spoke breathlessly, his voice heavy and sultry. Simultaneously he was still wriggling his hips forward, and fully ignored the way his pubic bone was already grinding against hers.

Wonyoung hadn’t even noticed the way she had instinctively wrapped her legs around him — it felt like someone had shoved a scalding metal rod into her privates and was still trying to push it deeper.

“I think… it’s all inside.” Wonyoung response was a mixture of half-hearted wit and dumbfound frustration. She knew well enough that she would be sore for the following few days after such a callous entry. Her vagina wasn’t built for such rough treatment. The silken walls were involuntarily clenching down on his member but unsuccessful in expelling the invader. She could feel herself stretching to accommodate his manhood, adapting to make room for him, allowing him to become a part of her.

Just like he had seen on the internet, he began his slow withdrawal followed by another push back inside her. He copied the motions to the best of his abilities.

A slippery squelch escaped Wonyoung womanhood, and a faint blush crept across her cheeks. It was either her own arousal, or an ample serving of pre-cum which helped to lubricate her pussy. Either way, it paved the path for him to pick up a clumsy pace of burying his entire length in her, pulling out, and repeating the process.

Throughout it all, Wonyoung remained fully aware of the heat his cock was emitting within her tight sheathe. Each time Hajoon buried his cock inside her, she could feel it like fireworks going off against her delicate flesh. The heat, the texture of his erection, the veiny shape, she felt it all as he repeatedly drove it home.

Every other slap was more deliberate than the last, and soon the sounds of his skin slapping against hers echoed throughout the small room each time his crotch impacted with Wonyoung’s. Her small breasts rocked back and forth in tune to the rhythmical motion of her body, the petite girl was like a doll while under the mercy of his actions. This wasn’t the romantic love-making that she was used to, it was an act with a singular goal in mind.

With little else to do but to bear the sensations, she grasped the bed sheets more tightly and dug her fingers into the fabric.

She also unwrapped her legs from around his back and placed her feet back on the mattress — this was an encounter she did not intend to repeat. She wanted him to do whatever he desired and to get it over with quickly.

And yet despite her mental struggle, Wonyoung found herself feeling playful, almost giddy. A part of her was enjoying the knowledge that her body brought him such joy. She also felt desired and appreciated beyond anything she felt in the past. Perhaps with a bit more foreplay, she thought, this might have felt amazing, even for her.

“Do you… do you like it?” Wonyoung asked, those words bashfully while her innocent eyes gazed back up at him as if seeking his approval. As she lowered her view back down to her crotch, she could see as well as feel the way he kept pulling his hungry cock nearly all the way out of her — leaving her with a sensation of emptiness inside her — and then slamming back into her. Each impact coaxed another stifled sigh out of her, it was all she could do to prevent herself from moaning.

She still believed that her friends were hosting a party downstairs. She didn’t want to create any noise.

“Fuck,” Hajoon cursed, as he felt the tightness of Wonyoung’s cunt squeezing down on his cock. “Yea-yeah,” was all he could muster in response as he kept on focusing entirely on that wet hug of her pussy. Wonyoung kept tensing up, he could tell. Voluntarily or not, it felt incredible to have her flesh so tight around his shaft. Every clench of her flesh just heightened his pleasure, driving him on to make this last for as long as he could.

It was his first time, however.

Wet perspiration was collecting on his back, his muscles were aching and shivering from exhaustion, and all he could think about was that paradise between Wonyoung’s legs. His basic instincts were urging him on to claim her completely in whatever way possible.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, he could feel himself approaching his peak. An explosion of pleasure that concentrated in his loins. He shoved his entire weight against and into her. He deliberately wanted to share this moment with her, all of it, forcing it on her.

So when a familiar tingle was spreading from his crotch all the way to the tip of his erection, he made sure to keep it buried as deep in her little twat as she could take it. Wonyoung’s vulva kissed the base of his cock. She had taken every inch. They were one.

His orgasm began with a single pulse at first.

It was also right then, that Wonyoung fully comprehended what felt so different this time, compared to sex she usually had with her boyfriend. Today she was acutely aware of the shape and heat of her partner’s erection because it was not engulfed by a thick layer of latex, she realized. There was no condom!

For the first time in her life, she was committing to unprotected intercourse. And to make matters worse, it was with someone other than her boyfriend. Those pink walls of her pussy had been in direct contact with a naked, uncovered cock. It was the first time that she had sex completely bareback and as nature intended.

Squirt.

Wonyoung inhaled sharply at that, like something had just touched the very end of her love-tunnel. A sickeningly strong spurt of… wetness. That thought didn’t prepare her for the following squirts, which felt twice as intense — her mind made the connection with a super soaker as it was emptying a blast inside her! It felt strong and masculine as it washed into her.

It was weird, but not nearly as bad as the discomfort it caused. Those pumps delivered the payload of cloudy sperm right up against her cervix, coating the smooth organ with a fine slathering of creamy seed. Wonyoung flinched each time Hajoon injected another serving of baby gravy against that uttermost sensitive part inside her.

His member kept jerking against the vulnerable walls of her cunt. It was a huge load.

“You can’t…” Wonyoung mumbled. “You gotta… you can’t cum inside me.” Her words were incoherent, and it was also too little, too late. His organ already delivered nearly a dozen spurts directly into her. Even Wonyoung understood that much.

Up to now, nobody had been allowed to ejaculate inside her. Not even her own boyfriend had gotten to enjoy that privilege. This had all been intended to be a one-sided deal, that she would help Hajoon to lose his virginity. But instead, it had turned into a mutual exchange, in which she was allowed to claim his virginity, and he would be allowed to claim her bareback virginity. Her excited pussy got its first taste of semen, and would without a doubt, never forget its first unprotected conqueror.

“Ahh… no…” It was part of her mother’s advice, which had been repeatedly drilled into her head as soon as she had her first period. The women in her family were incredibly fertile, and she should not be taking any risks until she was absolutely ready to become a mom.

All of her sisters had at least one pregnancy scare, too. Despite combining multiple birth control methods.

Wonyoung had no doubts about it. That stubborn triangle between her legs would be more than happy to accept any lucky sperm, and to put her right on course for an early motherhood.

But yet here she was with her trembling legs wide open like a wanton slut, and a real penis throbbing to deliver the final watery spurts of sperm into her battered cunt.

It was almost as if he was seriously trying to inseminate her defenseless vagina. To give her a baby bump and to ruin her prospects of remaining a cheerleader. Wonyoung could feel herself clenching down on his erection at the thought of that, and in response, his member flexed aggressively against the walls of her cunt.

Just like a mare, she thought, she had been mounted and potentially impregnated. Like she was nothing more than an animal. Her family would never forgive her if they found out she made such a mistake, nor would her boyfriend…

“What am I supposed to do now…?” Everything inside her felt gross and slippery. Each time he moved even an inch, she could feel his organ moving inside the puddle he dumped inside her. She might never again feel clean. Her pussy had gotten its first creampie, the most intimate event a girl and a boy can share with one another.

Followed by a bitter sigh, Wonyoung plopped back against the pillow with her legs still open and her lover sheathed inside her vagina. More of his weight was resting on her now, after he had deposited his cum in her and had lost his strength.

There was little she could do now that he already came in her, and her mind was weirdly at ease with the thought. Still, she knew of the risk. She also knew she didn’t want to get knocked up at such a tender young age.

All that adrenaline, which coursed through her veins like never before, helped her to temporarily form a more coherent thought.

An obvious idea occurred to her.

A simple solution to this mess, thanks to modern science. Unlike her mother or her grandmother, she wasn’t completely at the mercy of her partner. A single accident wouldn’t permanently doom her, she couldn’t allow that to happen, she wouldn’t.

Wonyoung extended her arm as far as it would go and pulled her discarded clothes close enough to retrieve her phone. Her sluggish mind was whirring and spinning while she stared at the bright digital screen, until she remembered her password. She navigated her way to the calendar and created a simple reminder; Purchase plan B, ASAP.

Even if it took a day, even if it would take two days, she would be fine. It was a relief. She wouldn’t have to endure a baby growing inside her and she sure as hell wouldn’t have to endure weeks of morning sickness just because she once forgot using a condom.

Throughout it all, Hajoon remained on top of her. Her breasts did little to cushion the way he was pinning her in place. He was truly spent now that he had thoroughly enjoyed his birthday present.

Wonyoung placed her phone on the nightstand, uttered a weary sigh and closed her eyes. She could still feel the vastness of cum that was swirling around inside her vagina. It was so warm and sticky, distinctly different from her own wetness. It didn’t feel right. She felt tainted and dirty. There was a very good reason for why she had never permitted her boyfriend to soil her insides like this.

Even the thought was obscene — that she currently carried millions of his little swimmers inside her womb. Wiggly little sperm tadpoles. Each one with the single goal of ruining her teenage years, by forcing her into an unplanned pregnancy. Sometimes, being a girl certainly sucks… she thought.

And every now and then Wonyoung could feel her pussy twitching around Hajoon shrinking shaft, as if to make up for the growing emptiness within her. Everything about this felt too intimate. She could scarcely believe it, but it almost felt like her vagina was falling in love with the bareback sensation. She grimaced at the thought, but nonetheless felt a warm pressure in her loins. A deep satisfaction. If he wanted to go for another round, she would probably let him.

The room was quiet… she couldn’t even hear the party downstairs anymore. It was fairly tranquil and serene, she thought. Caught by the sullen silence, the two teenagers were moments from falling asleep, entangled as they were.

Until the door handle twisted, and turned.

The bedroom door opened. Jin and Sehun — those friends of Hajoon — entered the room only to change their expressions from ones of curiosity, into ones of surprise and shock.

“Are we interrupting? We’re interrupting,” Sehun said while already being in the midst of trying to close the door again.

“Wait,” Hajoon answered. He was still surprisingly out of breath. “It’s cool. She offered to help me lose my… uh, my virginity. My brother made it happen, I guess. So it’s all good. She isn’t cheating or anything… what are you doing here anyway? Wait, did he… did he send you?”

The situation was weird without a doubt, and Hajoon had no intention of remaining completely naked in the presence of his buddies. He rolled over to cover himself with the bed covers.

Which left Wonyoung with the feeling of how his softened member slipped out of her, with a slick pop, after which a tendril of warm cum drooled out of her freshly fucked pussy. Everything down there felt swollen, tender and sticky. Since she wasn’t making an effort to move, her senses were acutely aware of how all that cum was gradually escaping her. It began to leak out of her slit more richly, oozing down the cheeks of her bum and pooling underneath her.

“Well… he did send us, yeah. But he said something about checking up on everyone. I don’t think this is what he meant…” Sehun surveyed the situation. “But hey, I’m not gonna pass up on this. If she’s all right with it? And if you don’t mind either?”

“Yeah sure, go for it.” Hajoon had his share of fun. He didn’t mind sharing the experience with his closest friends, as well.

None of the guys asked Wonyoung, who still lay on the bed. Considering how widely known her helpful attitude was, the boys simply assumed this was all part of her charity. That she offered herself to be used for their entertainment however they saw fit.

Who knows, maybe this was even some fetish she had, Hajoon thought to himself. She did seem completely at ease with everything, other than that little accident inside her pussy. But even that unwelcome cream filling didn’t seem to bother her much at all. It gave him a newfound motivation to indulge in what he assumed to be her kink.

“Go ahead,” he suggested as he climbed off the bed while keeping the covers wrapped around his lower half.

Sehun and Jin still stood a good distance away. After a brief moment of contemplation, Sehun shrugged his shoulders and began to strip. He was surprisingly fit, with mildly toned muscles underneath his clothes. He wasn’t short on confidence either, he was the only one in their small circle of friends who had an easy time with the ladies.

And so, while Hajoon and Jin retreated with chairs to a corner of the room, to watch the show, Sehun approached the bedside.

“I always thought you were the prettiest.” His eyes wandered over Wonyoung curves. Her pristine, beautiful skin was free of any marks or imperfections. Sehun reached out to give her left tit an inquisitive squeeze.

“The real deal, sweet. I kinda prefer girls with bigger breasts, but it’s not like you’re offering a boobjob anyway.” His gaze moved up and he briefly looked into Wonyoung’s eyes. He could see a trace of confusion and fright, locked behind the entrancing shade of hazelnut of her iris, as if she was trapped inside her own mind. He recognized the look, it was the same one all the intoxicated girls downstairs had.

Wonyoung was fighting a losing battle, certainly. Each little rush of adrenaline had less of an effect to free her mind, she was rapidly succumbing to the alcohol and whatever else she ingested.

“She had a bit too much to drink, didn’t she?” Sehun contemplated the situation for a moment, but it wasn’t his fault that she got herself into this mess. This would be an easy way of teaching her a lesson, while he and his friends would get to have fun. It was harmless anyway, he figured, it’s not like they were harming her.

Sehun knew nothing of the trouble that was brewing in Wonyoung’s loins, with more cum trickling towards her cervix.

Wonyoung still looked up at him, dazed and intoxicated as she was. Each time she breathed in, she grew more aware of the vile scent of drying sperm and her own vaginal juices that seeped into the air and filled the room with the smell of unprotected sex. All she could hope for was an opportunity to fall asleep and to rest.

She simply wanted this to be over, even her own arousal was giving her little more than embarrassment and shame. She took no joy or pride in the fact that everyone currently in the room knew what her cunt smelled like when she was in the mood for another cock. Her pussy was pleading for another dick to own her. But instead, Sehun moved his hand toward her cheek and beyond, grabbing the pillow her head was resting on. With one swift tug, he pulled it away and she uttered a displeased groan in response as her head plopped onto the firm mattress.

It was the beginning of something new, as Sehun relocated the pillow and pushed it underneath Wonyoung’s shapely buttocks. One strong push and it was in place. It raised her crotch, higher up than the rest of her body and much easier to access.

Sehun climbed on top of her.

“Tell me that I’m your boyfriend,” Sehun instructed as he reached for his erection, and used his grip to rub the blunt tip of his cock against the shrouded little point of pleasure, just atop her slit. Wonyoung’s perfectly shaven pussy had gotten sticky with a mixture of fluids. His cockhead applied a gentle pressure on it, just enough to make her curious.

“Ah… ahnn!” Wonyoung released a tender moan, and her soft voice helped to coax more life into his erection. “My… my boyfriend?” She had never felt anything like this. Sex had always been something she would do just to get it over with. It had never even occurred to her, or her boyfriend, that sex could be pleasurable for both of them.

It was her upbringing which had taught her that everything between her legs was a no-no area. So many sensations were flooding her brain, her body was more than amped up to receive more attention.

“You are… my boyfriend?” She weakly repeated his words, though she didn’t care to understand their meaning. She simply wanted this moment to continue. Free of shame and stress, this was the first time that she discovered a new side of herself. And despite her frail and tired mind, she suddenly felt a new rush of energy to urge her onwards.

“That’s right.” Sehun drew small circles around her opening, a dab of his pre-cum smeared all over Wonyoung’s smooth pussy lips.

When he was finally pleased with her growing need, he pushed his cock down to knock against the entrance to her juicy cunt. The battered lips of her pussy were drenched, it was either a mess of her own creation or leftovers from Hajoon’s deposit inside her cunt. She was about to accept the second unprotected dick of her life into her body.

Much like it happened with the first one, she was vaguely aware of a gentle push, followed by the feeling of being spread open by something. This is it, Wonyoung contemplated, and the tip of his erection entered her. She had taken him inside and she was once again allowing a guy to relish the wet embrace of her cunt.

The anxious fear crossed her mind again, as she remembered that she still wasn’t on any birth control. At this rate, she may end up taking another warm batch of sperm into her most vulnerable core — her blind reliance on taking a morning after pill was nagging her. She knew this was a bad idea, and yet—

“Ahnnn!” Wonyoung uttered another perplexed moan as she felt the manly appendage invading her further, stretching her womanhood far more so than the first cock she took.

It was only when she planted her hands on the mattress to push herself into a more upright position that she could gaze at the obscene sight that was playing out further down. While the shadow cast by Sehun’s body made it harder to observe, Wonyoung was able to see the way his grotesquely thick cock was worming its way into her. He would pull back by an inch, and then feed two inches back into her. His actions also just so happened to push all the remaining cum deeper inside her.

“Nnnh,” Wonyoung sighed bitterly. Sehun monstrous size was pushing against some particularly sensitive parts and she was rapidly approaching her breaking point. There was only so much she could safely accommodate, before she would feel the sheer strain and burden of trying to force something unusually big into her. “It won’t fit, it doesn’t fit,” she mumbled with her broken voice, a plea that was ignored. Her hands clutched the bed’s fabric more tightly.

Sehun kept on applying more pressure with every other thrust, coaxing her insides to accept him. It was fortunate that she was so damn wet, otherwise this would’ve proven uncomfortable for both.

Wonyoung’s fists gradually unclenched as she managed to relax. Her breathing still came deep and ragged, and her mouth felt dry, but she was getting used to it all. Even the sounds no longer caused her as much discomfort — that repetitive slick noise each time his member pushed inwards. The way her battered pussy lips simply opened up and allowed his erection to plunge deeper still.

She refused to say it out loud, but it was beginning to feel weirdly pleasant. It felt just right, the way Sehun managed to stimulate those unknown parts within her. Those tender spots she never knew existed.

“Ah! Ohh…” A particularly sharp moan left her brittle lips as she felt him delving deeper than even Hajoon managed to, yet undiscovered parts were opening up to accommodate her lover. In response, Wonyoung parted her legs further.

One foot slipped just off the edge of the bed and dangled uselessly above the carpet, while her other foot remained atop the mattress. Even so, all it did was creating more space inside her. An act that allowed Sehun to pick up the pace with which he was mating with her.

It shaped up to be a proper fuck, with deep hard strokes.

It was so much more intense than she could’ve ever anticipated, a workout for her untrained pussy. And as those ebbing waves of soreness, excitement and lust kept retreating and returning, she soon found herself reaching another height she had yet to experience.

Her first orgasm.

It began with a sensation similar to having just burned herself, her instincts urged her on to touch herself, to reassure herself that she was okay. It was accompanied by a squeezing that she was aware of each time he thrust into her. The soft, slick walls of her cunt clenched down on his member when he pushed in, and when he withdrew she felt empty and hollow. It was like a weird, twisted dance.

Soon she could feel a heaviness emanating from just below her belly button.

It seemed to be spreading in a butterfly shape, growing outwards. It reached down to her thighs, and all the way up to the tips of her tingly fingers. Its intensity kept climbing until she sighed, and bit her lip hard enough to draw traces of blood.

She suddenly felt lightheaded and breathless. Warm shocks of bliss rolled through her and accompanied the fullness in her pussy. Her eyes were shut tight and all her senses concentrated on those feelings, the confusion and joy of her first climax. It felt so damn good.

Simultaneously, Sehun could feel her vagina rhythmically contracting around his dick, damn well making it impossible to push as deep as he had grown accustomed to. But he didn’t need to.

Just as Wonyoung was in the midst of an orgasm, her lover joined her. He repeated the same motions that had forced her over the edge. He fucked into her as he began to deliver a row of thick, virile spurts of semen into the depths of Wonyoung’s defenseless vagina. His persistent thrusting only helped to push it deeper.

Her cervix repeatedly dipped into the sticky mess, in tune to her barely suppressed moans.

A milky pool of cum all but drowned her vulnerable cervix. The boys were certainly doing their very best to try and seal her fate, knowingly or not, they were breeding her unprotected cunt.

The pillow underneath her peach-shaped buttocks all but ensured the sperm had nowhere to go but where it belonged most. She still shivered and gasped, even when her partner slowed down and paused.

“And that’s… that’s how you get it done…”

Sehun allowed his muscles to relax, now that his job was finished. The exertion of his work came crushing down on him. His full weight was lowered onto Wonyoung while he gasped for fresh oxygen.

The air was heavy with the salty taste of sweat and exhaustion. He leered down at her with a toxic, lecherous stare when she eventually opened her eyes. It had taken her a while to recover. He knew he had succeeded in something that perhaps nobody else had attempted yet — to ride her to the peak of pleasure.

Simultaneously, Wonyoung’s senses returned and she regretfully grew aware of that new, added heat in her loins. That damp warmth from all the recklessly deposited sperm that now resided within her. She had taken it all, like a gift she couldn’t return anymore.

Their crotches were fused together for the time being, and she could feel him softening against the tender sides of her pussy.

Even her vulva, somehow, felt more bruised and battered. There were so many things she was suddenly in the midst of discovering. It’s like her world was finally filled with color again, it was real and vivid. Whatever had been mixed into her drink was slowly leaving her system, but the influence of alcohol still affected her strongly.

“Are you… did you… finish?” Her words came timidly. The weight of the situation was slowly closing in on her and she wasn’t sure how to react.

Her caring nature and positivity, clashed with the overwhelming mess this turned out to be.

“Yeah. It was amazing. You were amazing.” Sehun lowered his gaze down to where their genitals were still hugging one another, and slowly withdrew from her sloppy insides. It coaxed a few gasps and sighs from Wonyoung, but he soon felt himself popping free from her pussy’s tight embrace. The way the pillow kept Wonyoung’s crotch propped up, allowed him a particularly lewd sight.

His limp member dangled above her gaping, abused opening and dripped remnants of their combined juices all over, and into, the overexerted slit of her cunt. The shade of his expelled cum blends perfectly with Wonyoung’s pale skin.

It was a strange sight for Wonyoung who never had sex without a condom, and never saw a guy’s ejaculate outside of a thick latex prison. It confirmed her suspicions, she really didn’t like the feeling nor the sight of spunk. Though she couldn’t deny that she had at least a little bit of fun… no that was an understatement. She had to be honest to herself, it had been her first orgasm.

“So who is next,” Hajoon asked. “Jin, you wanna have a go at her? We wouldn’t judge you or anything if you don’t wanna,” he continued while he observed his friend’s reaction.

Of the three friends, Jin was certainly the least social one. Which didn’t mean that he was bad looking by any means, but he was scrawny and quick to grow nervous. Which was entirely to be expected considering he grew up in a household with half a dozen siblings. As the youngest sibling of the bunch, he had always been teased and made fun of. He never had a chance to build his confidence.

“I don’t know, maybe?” His gaze jumped back and forth between his friends, and the cute girl, Wonyoung. who was waiting on the bed with her legs wide open, ready to be fucked with a sullen expression. She didn’t seem too happy about the situation, but she also didn’t glare or anything. She had accepted her fate.

She did however moan sweetly when a pair of fingers delved into her pussy — and shoved all that previously deposited warm lubrication inwards. An unpleasant but familiar sensation, at this point. Sehun seemed to be taking great delight in groping her in every way he could. His sperm-covered fingers left her pussy and trailed back up to her taut, flat stomach — where he drew a wet circle around her belly button before moving further up to cup her breast. A soft squeeze confirmed that her tits were just as responsive as her cunt.

“Yeah, I kind of wanna try.” Jin watched the show and it was mesmerizing. His brothers often brought drunk girls home, and they often would end up being rather vocal about their nightly entertainment.

Unlike Hajoon, Jin had never complained about wishing to lose his virginity. But much like his friends, he failed to see a reason to pass up on this opportunity.

“Sure, she’s ready to go,” Sehun responded while he climbed off the bed.

Once again nobody bothered to inquire for Wonyoung’s thoughts on the matter. She wasn’t even comfortable with her spot on the bed — the pillow elevated her midsection, sure, but that caused her head to rest on the rigid mattress. And her vagina was sore and achy. She also hated the feeling of sperm wedged into every crevice of her cunt.

Though just as she was about to voice her discomfort, Jin climbed on top of her. There wasn’t much wiggle room — it was still just a tiny bed, designed for just one person — so when he planted his elbows on either side of her, she could only glance left and right in case she still had a chance to slip away. She couldn’t.

“Could you… like… turn around?” Jin gazed down at Wonyoung, and for the first time she actually had the presence of mind to look back up at him.

“Turn around,” she repeated his words, albeit more slowly as if trying to decipher the meaning. “What do you mean?” She turned her head and looked at the wooden headrest of the bed. It took her another moment to comprehend his intentions — to turn her body!

She’s never had sex in any position but missionary. It hadn’t occurred to her that some people may have a preference. Wonyoung awkwardly twisted and turned her body around and found herself face-to-face with the mattress she had gotten so familiar with. She also felt the pillow now digging into her crotch. The result was the same, her cunt was raised and easy to access.

A strong blush crept across her cheeks, a burning shame. The growing awareness wasn’t entirely a good thing…

Wonyoung could soon feel something poking her labia again. It was a surprise that her crotch hadn’t turned into more of a sloppy mess, but that simply meant most cum was still somewhere inside her.

Which wasn’t reassuring. Wonyoung felt nauseous, thinking she might get knocked up. She briefly wondered just how much cum would fit into her, before even her baby-frenzied vagina would begin to spit it back out. But then she remembered that even if her pussy would be filled to the brim, her elevated crotch was giving all their combined cum a chance to needle through her cervix and to drool right into her womb.

She shivered warmly and sighed, just long enough for her to question if her vivid imagination coaxed another orgasm out of her… The gentle, careful prodding ceased when she felt Jin’s cock head had successfully located her slit. It made her feel so very vulnerable. She was naked and exposed, and so cursed helpless — yet she did not dare make a fuss about it. Just one more time, she thought to herself. They’re almost done, then I can shower and go home.

Jin inched his hips forward, he had observed the prior dance long enough to have a general idea of how it was done. The bulbous cockhead nudged between Wonyoung’s swollen pussy lips, pushed them apart and then entered the welcoming heat of her loins.

He moaned with a mixture of excitement and surprise — it surpassed his expectations! So caught up in the moment, he eagerly intended to claim more of this newfound pleasure and pushed onwards, slowly but deliberately.

It was an effortless process, Wonyoung took him in with ease. At least physically. Her mind was rebelling. She crossed her arms in front of her face and hid herself, an attempt to conceal her expression — torn between shame, confusion and guilty pleasure.

Her new partner wasn’t as large as the previous ones, but everything inside her had become so sensitive that he didn’t need to be well endowed. She could feel every stroke, every throb. She could hear the soft creaking of the bed frame as he added more weight to her, and she could smell the potent scent of frequent intercourse. Her senses were drowning in an ocean of lust and everything tied to it.

Jin was taking his time, or at least tried to. He was inching back and forth, as if he was afraid he may break her if he pushed too deep, or too fast. He also wanted to make it memorable for himself, stretching these moments for as long as he could manage. Even if two other guys had already used her, it still felt like her pussy was tight enough to snap his dick. It was an impossible embrace, mayhap related to her youth, or rigorous exercise as cheerleader. Whatever it was caused by, it was a blessing.

Another subtle moan left him as he tried to thrust forward and was met with more resistance. It had no right to feel this good to have sex with her, and it was taking his breath away. It was the single-most special experience in his entire life.

Wonyoung felt similar. Her entire crotch felt like it was heating up or burning, like all the nerve endings were firing off signals left and right, to signal her what she already knew: Only her cunt mattered.

Every other push drove those thoughts home, and soaked her mind with more desire. A taboo kind of desire that seemed to be fighting with what little was left of her rational mind.

Wonyoung listened to the way each thrust forced a wet squelch out of her beaten cunt and she moaned sultry. Though just as she was getting closer to claiming another orgasm for herself, she heard her lover releasing a more drawn-out moan. His voice was mixed with emotional release and regret, but also genuine joy. Wonyoung pinched her wrist, to distract herself from the sudden sensation of more cum being delivered into her violated cunt. Hot, sticky bursts showered the depths of her cunny with everything he had stored in his weary testicles. Weeks, maybe months’ worth of pent up semen.

“Ahnn!” She moaned by sheer accident, just as she felt a particular forceful burst against the end of her love tunnel. It was humiliating, she didn’t feel like she had any control over the situation. At least it was over. Or so she thought.

“Are you done? I kind of want to go again,” Hajoon asked. Nobody had the heart or motivation to deny him. They switched places and Wonyoung once again found herself getting used for sex.

It wasn’t a gentle fuck by any means, every thrust caused her face to rub across the mattress, but her energy was depleted. Everything began to blur into one big event, seemingly endless. Her thoughts dimmed and calmed down as she accepted that this would go on for much, much longer.

It was in the midst of that encounter that she finally fell victim to her exhaustion.

After all that had happened, she reached her limit and passed out while still being pounded from behind. It wasn’t graceful and it certainly wasn’t ladylike.

His crotch simply continued to repeatedly slap against the perky cheeks of her behind, to sink every inch of his overeager erection back into her sheathe. Subtle ripples waved outwards each time his flesh impacted with her buttocks. Nobody paid attention to the way she barely reacted anymore. If anything, they took it as sign that she finally consented fully. That she was merely ashamed of enjoying herself.

Hajoon didn’t notice, not even when he came inside her for a second time. Nor did his friends notice that she wasn’t awake anymore when they continued taking turns with her. Until the evening truly came to an end, until they were well and truly sated… Wonyoung had a dreamless slumber. Her body had desperately attempted to rid itself of all the toxins but it didn’t have any power left to spare. Her sleep wasn’t a restful one whatsoever.

A splitting headache assaulted her as soon as she opened her eyes again, much later.

“What the hell did I do…?” She mumbled to herself lethargically, while placing both hands on the sides of her head as if she was afraid it may fall off. Her throat felt incredibly dry, like she hadn’t had a sip of water for weeks. She also noticed that her entire body felt sore which usually only happened after overexerting herself at the gym.

Her mind was a foggy mess. She truly couldn’t remember anything other than getting drunk and praying that someone would turn down the music. The last time she had gotten blackout drunk like this was… on her birthday, probably. Where was she anyway?

She took a quick, panicked look around and found herself still at her boyfriend’s home, in one of the guest rooms. All alone. It was reassuring, even if she couldn’t recall how she got there. Someone must have carried her.

Presumably her boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be seen.

The blanket clung to her skin, that’s how sticky and sweaty she was. Even in her moody and drained state, she felt grossed out. If there ever had been a time that she needed a good hot shower, this was it. The poor state she was in became more obvious as she crawled out of bed and felt her legs trembling miserably. She walked like a zombie, stumbling forward and dragging her hands along the walls, as she pushed herself to the bathroom without second guessing just why she was already naked. Her eyes fixated entirely on the path ahead of her.

When she finally reached the bathtub, she sat under the showerhead and allowed the warm water to sprinkle over her naked body, which finally lured a groan out of her. She tugged her knees in and rested for what felt like an eternity, simply relaxing and recovering. Her joints ached and her muscles still felt stiff, so it felt heavenly to have a thousand water drops massaging the entirety of her body for so long.

She eventually pulled herself back up to her feet, finished her shower and dried herself off with a cozy, soft towel. It was a treat to feel the fabric caressing her. She studied herself in front of the bathroom mirror while doing so, and for the first time, noticed that her entire vaginal area was enflamed and red. She leaned forward to take a better look, and parted the swollen lips with her fingertips. Her actions were slow and gentle, as if she was afraid she may break something down there by touching it.

Some kind of cloudy, sticky discharge trickled down her thighs almost immediately, and she uttered a startled gasp. It was a mystery to her why she might be so dripping wet on the inside. Did she have some kind of wet dream before she woke up? She wasn’t sure, but she sure as heck hoped that she hadn’t masturbated in the guest room while she was drunk out of her mind. Oh god, even the thought made her nearly choke in embarrassment. Hopefully nobody had noticed that she apparently touched herself. It was time to clean away any evidence of her intoxicated behavior.

She quickly sat down on the toilet seat and grabbed a small box from the side. The contents were what she expected, the private stash of tampons belonging to her boyfriend’s mother. Applicator included.

“Thank god!” An essential household item if she had ever seen one.

She retrieved one of them, parted her legs, and gingerly inserted it between her swollen pussy lips. Her pussy felt bruised and spongy, but she quickly blamed that as well on any kind of unacceptable dream she must’ve had.

She pushed that bad boy home before pressing down on the plunger and securing the tampon in place, somewhere in the back of her vagina where it would help to prevent any kind of awkward discharge. She could still feel some thick fluids sloshing around somewhere within her, thank god she no longer had to be afraid of it oozing down her legs.

“Nope, nope!” It was all icky and strange down there. The less she had to deal with her private parts, the better. She certainly had other things to worry about, she thought. So after using a ball of tissues to wipe the insides of her thighs clean, she returned to her boyfriend’s bedroom to find him soundly asleep. It gave her a good excuse to borrow some of his clothes — at which point she realized that she couldn’t remember taking off her own clothes upon entering the bathroom. She had no idea where those were.

Did she blank out about that, too?

No matter, she grabbed a fresh pair of boxer shorts from his wardrobe, some sweat pants and an oversized shirt before retreating underneath her boyfriend’s blanket. Perhaps now she might be able to claim the restful slumber she had been missing out on. Her soft, warm hands wrapped around his sleeping form as she cuddled up to him and closed her eyes…

Simultaneously in an adjacent room, a distinct noise appeared. An intrusive digital beep, it startled Hajoon and tore him from his dreams.

He had slept on the carpet, right next to his bed.

After the guys had entirely spent themselves, and probably ejaculated every single drop of semen they had to offer into Wonyoung’s receptive pussy, they carried her to the guest bedroom. Hajoon returned to hopelessly stare at the obscene puddle of cum right where she had spent most of her time. On his bed. Which he had no intention to lie in, not after he saw that disgusting mess.

So after using a whole bunch of towels to try and wipe away most of the excess, he stripped off the bed sheets and tossed them into the washing machine. All that spunk had soaked down to the mattress — he had no choice but to sleep on the carpet.

Needless to say he didn’t appreciate being woken up by some loud beeping device.

It did turn out to be a pleasant surprise, however. It was his camcorder’s signal and indicated the batteries were running low. He approached his camcorder — it was still on his desk, right where he had placed it after initially escorting Wonyoung to his room.

His expectations were even more blown out of proportion when he accessed the memory and watched the video file. It was all right there. The girls he recorded at the beginning of the party, the shaky movement when he went upstairs with Wonyoung, and the hours of sexual exploration they shared together. It was recorded at a perfect angle, showing everything. He fast-forwarded the clip, and then quickly ejected the tape to keep it inside one of the drawers of his nightstand.

That’s when he noticed that Wonyoung had forgotten her phone. Curiosity got the better of him, since it still seemed to be unlocked. He browsed right to the picture gallery where he found another little heap of treasures. A whole bunch of — arguably tasteful — nude pictures that she had sent to his older brother.

Hajoon sent a copy of every single one to himself. His little stash would keep him satisfied for months, possibly years to come. Hajoon couldn’t be happier.

But then Wonyoung phone released an urgent beep.

A little notification popped up. It was gibberish: “Purrchess plantB ASAA.”

He barely suppressed a laugh at the memory just how drunk she seemed to be at first, at least until she seemed to sober up temporarily. She must’ve typed that message by accident, he figured. It was just random letters and didn’t make any sense.

His fingertip danced across the digital screen as he swiped to the side and pushed that flashing button that confirmed his selection. Delete notification. After all, she didn’t need a reminder of how drunk she was.

For the following few weeks, none of them dared bringing up the topic of his birthday. They all assumed that Wonyoung simply didn’t want to talk about what happened, they had no idea that she truly didn’t know or remember. Hajoon was perfectly content with the way he got to lose his virginity, and his friends were more than happy with the outcome after they received a copy of the recording.

There were no consequences. Or so they thought.

It was months later, after another pleasant night in her boyfriend’s bed, when Wonyoung woke up to a sensation not much unlike being punched in the stomach. Her eyes flashed open, her hand shot up to cover her mouth, and she desperately stormed out of the room and to the bathroom. She woke up half the house with her sudden noise, and she barely managed to slam the door shut before dry-heaving and coughing into the toilet. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her long cascading hair hung down the sides of her face.

The muscles in her abdomen just kept tensing, and she couldn’t help but to feel utterly devastated and miserable. What was going on, what was happening to her? She was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t think. More than that, she felt terribly weak and ill.

Halfway through, Hyeon arrived as well and approached her on the cold bathroom tiles. He comforted her, hugged her, and reassured her while she bawled her eyes out. When she finally recovered enough to breathe normally again, his hand slid down to grasp the hem of her shirt. He suspected one possible cause for her sickness.

“Don’t,” she panicked and her hands moved on top of his.

“It’s okay.” Once more her boyfriend reassured her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and his hands began to lift her shirt more insistently. Right there, where she used to have a perfectly taut and flat belly, he caught a glimpse of a visible baby bump. It was the first time that he noticed it.

And he smiled back at her.

“Accidents happen.” He comforted her with a tight embrace while he spoke warmly into her ear. “Maybe one of the condoms broke, who knows. It doesn’t matter.”

“I want to keep it,” he added while his hand brushed over the bulge where she carried a baby. She was about to become a mother.

No — more accurately, she had become a mother as soon as one of those wiggly tadpoles had reached her womb, months’ ago at the party. Her fate had been sealed as soon as she had gotten drunk, naked, and ready to be taken entirely bareback.

It was Wonyoung who had to pay the price. Ever since that day, a new life had been growing inside of her.

She trembled and could barely even breathe, emotions were tearing her left and right and tugging at her heartstrings. It felt like a combination of anxiety and bliss. Naturally she believed that it was her boyfriend’s baby that was growing inside her.

She slowly accepted this turn of events. It was a reason to be happy! She felt that the start of something new was waiting just around the corner.