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fidogo · 2 years

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And the truth of the matter is (I'll never let you go) - J.S

Synopsis: Jake Seresin hates you. Or is given no choice but to hate you after you decide to hate him first. Which sucks, because he dreams of dating you, marrying you, fucking you, the whole nine yards.

Tags: NSFT, miscommunication, enemies to lovers (kinda), F!Reader, mentions of gender and sexism, infactual Naval Control Room (sorry babes I have no clue what goes on in there and did not fact check), alcohol, sappy emotions, unprotected sex (Don’t do this!), penetrative sex, sub!reader, Dom!Jake, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, spanking, brief cockwarming

Word Count: 4.3K

AN: pretty silly in concept as in I know nothing about Naval control rooms and instead of learning or changing things just barreled on ahead because I felt compelled lmao I also tend to not like miscommunication tropes but once again…something compelled me

Jake Seresin fucking hates you.

Well not really. To be quite honest, he thinks you may be the prettiest thing he’s seen in years. He has dreams where he wakes up next to you, fantasies of taking you to Texas, making sure you never had to lift another finger unless you wanted to.

So no.

He doesn’t hate you. But dear God he seems to be doing everything wrong.

And he never does anything wrong.

But anytime he flirts with you, dropping the ole’ Seresin charm, your lips curl up at him, unimpressed. (He wants to bite them. Or kiss them). You always roll your eyes, pat his arm and leave him hanging.

He hates it.

So he ups the ante, deviating from your carefully calculated flight instructions. He easily sails through the air, gliding between clouds and aces through the training and exercises.

By the time Jake lands his plane, he’s elated, adrenaline pumping, muscles tense, and craving something hot, something more.

Except it’s worse when he sees you that night. He practically turns red when you completely ignore him. Turning on your pretty little heels, not even giving him the time of day.

He grabs your forearm on your way out, brows pinched in frustration at your lack of attention. At least before, when you talked to him, you were friends of some sort.

But now you rip your arm out of his grasp, anger evident.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Hangman,” you mutter before disappearing into the night. You never call him Hangman outside of work.

So yes, Jake Seresin hates you now.

Any conversation between the two of you changed after that day. It’s always tinged in anger, some sort of bitterness. He can’t figure out what he did wrong, and you won’t tell him, and it just further cements the fact that he has to put those dreams of you to rest. He continues to defy you when he’s up in the air, but he’s no longer trying to impress you, no, it’s petty and cruel now.

He lets the wound fester, lets it grow and spread, turn vile enough that the others eventually take notice.

Phoenix hangs by you when you’re all together, a loyal shadow, talons out whenever he gets too close. Rooster's loud and annoying as ever, picking up on the tension and doubling down on his clown routine to dissipate the heaviness.

Jake finds himself embarrassed when Bob looks at him with sympathetic eyes. If you didn’t want to talk to him fine. He doesn’t need you or your goodwill (God he wants you so bad though).

Coyote finds him at a barbecue one night. He hands him a beer wordlessly and just stays with him. It’s quiet and nice, making the ache he’s been feeling recently disappear a little.

“You should talk to her.” Coyote's usually calming voice sounds abrasive to Jake; his hackles go up.

“Jake.” Javy’s tone stops him from pouncing. “I’m serious. Just talk to her. You’ll both feel better.” He slaps his back, wandering over to Fanboy and Payback as the sun dips into the sea, the sky painted in orange and pinks.

You’re sitting by yourself on top of a picnic table, a little away from the group, gaze glued to the sunset.

You look like a fucking angel right now. Something straight out of his dreams.

Fuck it.

Shock finds its way onto your face as you see him walking towards you, his muscled body moving with purpose. Wide eyes watch him before they narrow turning towards the sand.

“Go away, Hangman,” you spit. “Do I need to get Natasha over-“

“What did I do wrong? Tell me what I did.” He cuts you off abruptly, and there’s a twinge of guilt and desperation that colors his words. It’s different than any of your previous conversations. No cocky charm, no anger, just a solemness that leaves your jaw hanging as you gape at him.

He barrels through your silence, sitting on the table next to you. “I can’t fix this,” gesturing between the two of you, “unless you tell me what I did to make you hate me so much.”

Jake briefly notes the way you look at him like a deer in headlights, it’s a look he hasn’t seen on your face before. He wonders what other faces you could make for him.

“You really don’t know?” Your voice softly cuts through the air, anxiety underlining your words. He shakes his head, watching the way you chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare at the darkening sky.

A silence settles between the two of you, nothing to listen to but the laughter of your friends, and the repetitive crash of the waves.

“You embarrassed me.”

It’s so quiet, Jake almost doesn’t hear it.

“What?”

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone. You didn’t listen to me at work. And I fought so hard to get into that control room.” You pause, tugging your jacket tighter around you. It sounds stupid now. Certainly nothing to cry over, and yet here you are, furiously rubbing your eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Jake carefully pushes, unsure of how to make this better.

You make a pained sound, before nodding, a humorless smile on your face. Of course, he has no clue. You press a palm to your chest, looking straight through his eyes into his soul.

“I do the calculations for your exercises and training.” You pat your chest, voice cracking. “I do it.” He tilts his head at you, silently urging you on. “And when you don’t listen to me and are still so successful, everyone looks at me.”

“But I do that all time…” he trails off, hand hovering over your shoulder before pulling it away.

“When you train with Mav or the other pilots, that’s different. But just- certain exercises, where it’s mainly for the plane and just you. That’s on me.”

He takes a sip of his beer, nodding slowly.

“Why do they look at you?” You let out a small groan, brows pinched in annoyance.

“Because when what I calculate doesn’t happen, they think I should be doing better. Well, everyone but Hondo. And in case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t a lot of women here.” Jake’s stomach drops a little as you continue. Shit.

“If I had been a man, I don’t think they would’ve raised an eyebrow. Hell, no one says anything when Johnson fucks up on Rooster’s calculations. And it is on me. I should’ve considered the fact that you’re the perfect pilot who will always beat the odds, but you had never pulled this shit with me before.” He snorts at that, before finally letting his palm rest on your thigh.

In a comforting, apologetic manner.

Nothing else.

“And it certainly didn’t help that after the first time, I did everything in my power to do the opposite of what you said.” You laugh at that, a twinkle returning to your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a while.

“No that didn’t help at all. One day my favorite pilot stopped listening to me, the next day I was a joke in the control room.” Your fingers curl into your jacket, and you keep still as Jake slides closer to you. He puts his beer down, gently caressing your jaw so you look at him.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry that happened to you. I wish you had told me,” he whispers, watching as your eyes dart around, unused to this type of closeness from him.

“I’m sorry. I just was-“ you meet his eyes again, tears beginning to well. “I was embarrassed. I thought I was going to get demoted or transferred. Which didn’t happen. But I thought you didn’t need me and….” your voice fades off, embarrassment all over your face, as you try to squirm out of his grasp.

Jake drops his hand from your jaw, giving you space, but he squeezes the flesh of your thigh.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that. That’s the last thing I ever wanted, believe me.” He swipes at a stray tear with his free thumb, watching you blink in surprise. He steals himself, deciding the truth may be the best route.

“When I didn’t listen to you the first time, I was trying to impress you.” Your eyes widen and your upper body pulls away from him.

“What?” You sound like you can’t believe him, and your eyes narrow at him. “This isn’t funny Seresin.” There’s an edge in your voice again, one that he’s come to respect and hate over the past weeks.

“I’m not being funny,” he throws back, matching your glare. “I was trying to get you to notice me. Hell, nothing else was working.”

“Now what the fuck do you mean?” He looks at you like your stupid, and he almost feels guilty about it except for the fact that he had been flirting with you for so long, it’s a miracle he didn’t give up. And when he tells you that, you look at him mouth gaping.

“You were serious?” Jake almost rolls his fucking eyes, but he’s watching you relive months of memories, as your shoulders sag. “Oh my god. I thought you were making fun of me.”

His heart aches a little at the thought of you thinking he was being cruel to you when he wanted to do nothing more but give you the moon and every star in the sky.

“Sweetheart. Not only do I want you more than anything, I need you. Always.”

“Oh.” He feels you squeeze your thighs together, feels the heat radiating from you.

Oh. Oh indeed.

———

Jake’s careful with you. More careful than he wants to be right now, but everything’s so fragile right now, so tender, he doesn’t want to do anything that’ll scare you off.

His hands are gentle when he peels your shirt and bra off of you; he’s hesitant as he kisses down your neck. His thumb swipes over the, now swollen, lips that have haunted his dreams. They open ever so slightly, letting him push in. He groans into your neck, pushing his free hand into your shorts, sliding over your damp panties.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glazed over as he trails his fingers up and down your clothed slit. Your hips buck slightly at his ministrations, lips curling around his thumb as you suck gently at it.

Jake’s cock throbs painfully in his boxers as he watches your body react to him so beautifully, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet. You’re so wound up, so tense in multiple ways, and it’s his fault. He owes it to you to make you cum before he gets his dick wet. It’s what you deserve.

He pulls his thumb from your mouth, caressing your face ever so slightly before trailing it down your breasts to tweak at your nipples.

“Such perfect tits,” he mutters, watching you bloom so beautifully under his attention. “Now let's get you out of these shorts.” You lift your hips as he situates himself between your thighs, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one go. And then he just fucking stares.

You squirm under his eyes, thighs beginning to close as anxiety plucks at your nerves. But he’s faster than you.

“Don’t you go hiding from me now, sweet thing.” He licks his lips before looking at you with blown-out eyes. “I think you doubt how long I’ve been dreaming about you and this perfect pussy. Let me enjoy this.” Your heartbeat picks up at his words, cunt involuntarily clenching around nothing. And he fucking watches it happen.

He smirks up at you in a way that makes you want to pull your hair out, presses a kiss to your thigh, and remains silent. As if not wanting to push your annoyance too far.

Jake settles on his stomach between your thighs, continuing to leave a trail of soft kisses up your thighs until he’s right at the apex, thumbs pulling your lower lips apart. He sighs appreciatively as your thighs tense.

“You’re just staring,” you complain, beginning to squirm again. He tsks at you, dragging his thumb up the cleft of your cunt.

“Hold your horses. I’m just getting started.” He swaps his thumb for his index, circling around the bud of your clit, delighting in the way you shiver, and he continues to trace your pussy as it leaks for him. “So pretty…” he murmurs mostly to himself.

Jake’s mainly teasing you at this point. A bit cruel considering how battered you both are emotionally, but he wants the first time you cum for him to be big. Memorable. Nothing less from Hangman. And for you. Of course.

And so he continues to tease, to drag his digits around your clit, your entrance, teasing the opening but not quite entering. He’s enchanted by the little noises you make, the gossamer strands he pulls from your body. They just look so…sweet.

With his eyes fixed on yours, he leans his mouth forward.

When his tongue swipes along you, your groan of relief goes straight to his dick. Fuck. He could listen to you all day.

Jake laps away at your cunt, chasing after your nectar and the sounds you make, relishing in the way your thighs tense around his head. He draws his tongue up, passing over your clit, and you buck into his mouth. Your fingers are in his hair in a flash, tugging as he repeats the motion. His eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling, and he grinds his dick into the bed.

“Fuck,” you whimper, eyes sealed shut as you continue to hump against his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He expertly flicks at your clit, fingers digging almost painfully into your thighs. It feels so good, the pleasure radiating from your pussy making your brain foggy. Much like he can’t think of being anywhere but between your thighs, you can’t think of anything but Jake and his perfect mouth.

The two of you stay in this, wet, messy rhythm of tugging and licking and teasing until your wound so tight, muscles so tense you can’t help but beg. Jake, Jake, baby, please. I need to cum so bad.

He groans against you, vibrations making you shiver. One of your thighs is released, fingers gently trailing over the shallow nail marks left on your skin. You shiver again. Those same fingers find their way to your sopping, twitching cunt, and they trail in-between the lips of your pussy while his tongue remains focused on your clit.

You pant tugging hard at his hair again, you can feel it coming, feel the wave begin to crash- and then he pushes 2 fingers inside you, stretching, searching, begging you to cum around them. And obedient as ever, you do.

You jolt forward, fingers still tangled in his hair as your thighs snap shut around his head, cunt pulsing around his fingers and into his awaiting mouth. Your blood feels white hot, pleasure overwhelming as your hips continue to twitch and buck.

Jake continues to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride your high as his own hips grind into the bed, reluctantly chasing the same.

When your body starts to relax, fingers no longer clinging to his hair almost painfully, he pulls his mouth and fingers away slowly, watching you carefully, gauging where you are.

You blink at him blearily, licking your lips before noticing how wet the lower half of his face looks. Wet because of you.

You let out a small moan. “Fuck, Jake.”

You look so fucked out, so lovesick- Something snaps in him and he doesn’t know why but he needs you to cum again as fast as possible.

And so he dives back in.

Fingers thrusting, tongue skillfully teasing. And you wail, hips rocking. To escape or seek more, you don’t know.

“Jake,” you cry out, pulling his hair, trying to get his tortuous mouth off of you. “Jake it’s too much!” But a single arm keeps you glued to his mouth. His eyes meet yours, blown out and desperate, and your fucking shaking.

And then his lips form a seal around your clit.

And he sucks.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, hips writhing against him as you’re taken under by another massive wave of pleasure. Your thighs squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, feet flailing against the bed. You repeat nothing but his name, as if it’s the only word you remember how to say, voice tense and whiny.

He moans into you, fingers pulling more of your cum into his mouth, and he grinds his boxer-covered cock into the mattress watching your body crest and crash until you begin to still.

Carefully, as if you might break, Jake pulls away again. The deep ache in his gut was finally satisfied at seeing you fucked out and exhausted.

But you prop yourself up to look at him, chewing your lip thoughtfully. “Dontcha wanna fuck me?” You whisper, something desperate and needy kicking to life inside of you again.

Jake inhales deeply, something twinging in his abs, and he grimaces.

And you flail in panic at his face, turning over to your hands and knees, cunt rising above him, as you turn back to look at him, begging again. Jake please, please I need you in me. I want you so bad.

And he groans, reaching a hand up to squeeze your ass.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing more I want than to fuck this cunt until you pass out. But I need to wait. I’m a little spent…”

You freeze at that, turning more to watch as he peels off his boxers, noticing the shine of the fabric. Holy shit.

Your eyes widen, and you collapse in front of the pillow in front of you.

“That’s so hot, Jake. Fuck.” Your hips wiggle as if to sell your point, and he chuckles.

“Bad timing though, huh?”

You peak out from the pillow, turning back again. “I don’t mind waiting.”

“I know.” And he smirks at you again, and it’s so annoying and cocky in the ways you hate but you’re too horny to care.

Especially when he starts massaging the globes of your ass. You settle down, eyelids drooping as his fingers dig into the flesh there. It feels so nice, relaxing while still keeping you turned on.

Jakes's fingers drift lower towards the entrance of your cunt, fingers gliding over the wetness that lingers around the entrance, pushing it back into you.

A shudder runs through your body as you clench tightly around his fingers. He coos at you, beginning to thrust them in and out, other hand still squeezing away. You gently rock back against him, mind glazed over from all the sensations and the fact that it was Jake Seresin who was doing it to you.

He pushes another finger in, smiling to himself at how you flutter around him, wanting more. Your darlin’ cunt was really a gift, wasn’t it?

He thrusts in and out, glued to the way you drip around his hand.

“Jake?” you sound so quiet, so soft. He could eat you live right now. You’re pouting now, lip jutting out at him.

“What is it darlin’?”

“Can you fuck me now?”

There’s a mean edge to your voice again, one that almost has him rolling his eyes. You’re a fucking piece of work sometimes. But he just pulls his fingers from you, stroking his cock with the wetness of you.

“You know what? I think I can take care of that for you.” You grin back at him, propping yourself up and shaking your ass again, and he slaps the jiggling flesh, making you laugh.

He fists himself mindlessly, guiding himself forward, closer to where he wants to be more than anything.

You inhale, fingers digging into the sheets at how he barely nudges toward, stretching you ever so slightly.

Jake lets out a hiss as he pushes forward. You’re fluttering and tensing like crazy around him, and his nails dig into your ass harshly.

“You gotta relax for me. Let me in.” You shiver and nod taking deep breaths as finally slides deep into your slick cunt.

“Oh shit Jake,” you say, already moving back against him, lost in the way he feels spectacular inside of you. Whatever daze you’re in is reciprocated, as he shallowly thrusts into you ever so slightly as you both adjust. You’re just so hot and wet already. It makes the small of his back tingle; lights something up deep inside of him.

Jake pulls out slowly, watching the way your walls cling to him, listening to the way you mewl. Fuck.

“Yea you like this dick?” He pumps back into you, watching the way you react, feeling you.

“You’re so- fuck- annoying,” you moan, glaring at him from over your shoulder, but your pussy squeezes him anyways.

“You were the one begging for it.” His palm slaps the fat of your ass, and you bounce back against him.

“And what’s wrong with that?” He glares at you, at the twinge of fight and mischief in your eyes.

“Nothing you little brat.”

And then he fucks you. Hard. Hips slamming into your ass, skin against skin. It’s loud, filling the air with wet, lewd noises that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. You can feel the ridges of his dick as he stretches your cunt.

He fucks you steady, hypnotized by every little thing about you. You just feel so fucking good, surrounding his cock as you drip into the sheets. Jake briefly wonders if you’d let him do this again, let him see you like this, tease you apart until you’re just as gooey and babbley.

He splays his hand out on your upper back, pushing you in the bed. Your breathing’s shaky, fingers curled into the sheets. There’s a deep ache inside you. You need him so much it hurts.

“Jake,” you manage to pant out, cunt squeezing him deliciously. He hisses before stroking the length of your back.

“I know. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl,” he coos, hands landing on your waist. You nod in agreement, the praise going straight to your overworked cunt.

“Used to be so mouthy with me. Just needed my cock in ya, huh?” His question is punctuated by a particularly well-aimed thrust that makes your knees feel wobbly. It’s degrading, but the way he’s making you see stars right now has you whimpering in agreement. You need it. You need him.

“Jake,” you whine hoarsely. “I’m close.” He coos at you again, squeezing the flesh of your waist before sliding his hands to grip your ass, pulling you further against him, letting him take you more and more and more.

“Can you touch yourself for me, sweetheart?” You blink dumbly at his request, before slowly inching a hand in-between your sweaty thighs. Your fingers split into a V, surrounding where he fills you, and you shake your head, dropping your hand. It’s too much, too sensitive. “That’s okay,” he drawls, making your heart skip a beat. “I’ll take care of you.”

He drops forward, sweaty chest pressing against your back, and his hips continue to pummel into yours, cock pressing into your so sweetly. Jake snakes an arm beneath you, blunt finger rubbing quick little circles into your clit.

You cry out, squirming away as he relentlessly attacked your poor, tired nub. It’s overwhelming, face pressed into his sheets, the scent of sex filling the air, the way your cunt’s being shown more attention than it has in a while, and most importantly, Jake Seresin's lips reaching anywhere they can- your jaw, shoulder, back. He’s everywhere. And you can’t hold off the inevitable any longer.

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, pulsing around him as you shake under him. You gush around him, an extra burst of wetness almost forcing Jake out of your cunt. He grunts, doing his best to keep his rhythm consistent, keep it nice to help you ride it out.

“There you go there you go. Just like that.”

You throw an arm back, nails clawing into whatever part of him they land on.

“Cum in me Jake, please, please.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, but you don’t care.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” His hand drops from your throbbing clit, granting you relief as his pace falters. When he finishes, he’s loud right in your ear, spurts of cum filling your soaking pussy.

The stillness that follows is thick, hanging heavy in the air. You accept the weight of him inside and out, taking deep breaths as you try to calm down.

Jake stays inside of you, and he curls around you ever so slightly, desire and need to be close to you outweighing the discomfort of his softening cock.

It’s nice, being stuffed full like this. But eventually, you squirm, tapping his arm that rests near your head.

“Jake.”

A chaste kiss is pressed to your sweaty shoulder.

“I know, honey. I know.” Jake pulls out of you slowly, and you wince at the feeling. He hops off the bed, leaving you to curl up on his bed, trying to ignore the sticky cum that’s spread along you.

The next moments pass in a blur; you vaguely feel a damp cloth clean your pussy, a sweatshirt slid over your shoulders, and a glass of water gently pressed into your hands as you sit up.

You blink up at Jake, sipping your water as you take in his appearance. Hair messy, chest flushed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“How ya feeling?” he asks gently, sitting next to you.

“Like I’m gonna be sore tomorrow.” Jake smirks at you, a sick sense of pride filling him before he rubs your thigh.

“I’ll take care of ya then too.” And that makes you smile so sweetly at him, he feels the breath get knocked out of him. You stretch your arms above your head, twisting as you get comfortable in his bed.

“And I’m feeling stupid because we could’ve been doing this for months.” Jake laughs at that, before humming in agreement.

“We’ll we’ve got a lot of time to make up for… later of course. I need my beauty sleep.” You roll your eyes at that, and he kisses your shoulder, before curling around you, a smile on his face as he reluctantly drifts to sleep. After all, his dream was finally a reality.

#jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman smut #top gun x reader #top gun x you #top gun smut

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chokchokk · 11 months

Note

Can I request a San x Female Reader where It's her first time having sex and first time having an orgasmn. So San makes her squirt over and over before fuckin her. But at the end she notices blood and freaks out so he comforts her? Very smutty and fluffy please?

-AA

Im too embarrassed

dearest AA, “very smutty”, “very fluffy” and “too embarrassed” don’t co-exist in my universe, so i hope with this fic i could get some of your shame (?) away, babes <33 indulge in your desires and don’t hesitate to revisit me anytime !!! thank you for being my first requester xoxo

ʟᴇᴛ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ! | choi san x fem!reader

“Don't go around calling me baby right now, or I'll turn like the San in your dream.”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : Your boyfriend is a wet dream, but this only goes so far, when your real dream leaves you confused and most importantly, curious. San is more than happy to help.

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff (slice of life-ish), smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 10k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : 1st time, sex with communication, first orgasm, foreplay, explicit consent, fingering, squirting, protected (!) penetrative sex, bleeding, after-care; san is a great boyfriend, san has a big dick, that is actually important to the plot, established relationship, living together, a lot of sweet pet-names, teasing, domestic humour

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : LMAO i’ll be honest i got carried away with the build-up (pls know this abt me; i’m a WHORE for build-up (sorry not sorry)) but if you want to jump to the spicy part immediately, go find the second border, the smut will start there!! enjoy in any way you want !!! <33 feedback would be greatly appreciated xoxo

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“Good night, Y/N. Dream of me~”, your boyfriend lulls, as you’re cuddled into his breast, San’s sturdy arm cushioning your body from below, stroking your head that’s under his. He just finished talking about his lucid dreaming recently, fascinated that he can remember more details now, but you interrupted his talking, when he iterated a fight to you where he got his nose bleeding.

“I don’t have to dream of you when you’re the dream already, Sannie,” you whisper, and with a giggle, he kisses your forehead. San has warned you about calling him ‘dream boyfriend’ multiple times, since he’s aways got, quote, “things to improve on”, but since it’s not dream husband yet, you’re left with no other description.

“Ohh, sugarplum,” he coos and and pushes your face deeper into the crook of his neck, “don’t say that.”

San is a special case in every which way; in the way he’s this buff guy with guns for arms that he uses to keep you warm when you sleep — in the way San is has the energy of a bull that he stashes away to sing his girlfriend a lullaby — in the way that the Choi San who has dated so many women in his past and hooked up with them (with no ill feelings in the present, of course) has settled down with you, Y/N, a woman with no prior experience other than the media she has consumed.

So you keep telling it yourself in secret. San is, and will forever be, a dream boyfriend. He’s as good to you as you are seemingly to him, but course the topic of sex, at least the lack thereof, crosses you two’s conversations from time to time.

It’s not like you had tried to save yourself for something, really not. It just… didn’t sound appealing to you, ever. You’ve shared to San that you don’t even masturbate that often, since you’ve never been able to get a satisfactory end— an orgasm— out of it. And while other men would laugh about such a thing, San has shown you nothing but understanding and support.

When you feel sorry for not being able to meet his sexual needs, he tells you he’s happy enough that you feel comfortable to share your discomforts with you. There is not one cell of his body that would mutate and judge you, San is fully devoted to your well-being.

What you forget sometimes is that while San is your first boyfriend, it’s your first time being a girlfriend, too. So being sorry for San is one thing, but wanting to love San more is another. At least you realised that this morning, when you woke up from your first ever wet dream.

You have been able to just ‘shake it off’ during the day and not think about it, but after San, being your soulmate he is, came up with the topic of “lucid dreaming”, and you could barely listen to his wild stories because of how distracted you were.

Maybe that’s why San thought you were tired and cuddled you to slumber so soon. Him cuddling you and getting your head under his chin is you two’s usual sleeping position, but well, huh… You’re not tired, not at all.

“I mean it,” you choke out, San humming, touched by your compliment, but of course he doesn’t know that by saying he’s a dream,you’re also referencing to how his hands were touching your private areas all around, his mouth in places that it’s never been in before in real life. ‘Tastes so good…’

“I love you so much, Y/N,” San exhales delightfully, fed by your fuzzy feelings, still caressing your head with gentle fingers, “but you know that I want you to hold me accountable.”

“Saaannie,” you murmur, your breath turning into a hot patch on his shirt, “just take it as it is.”

San notices your slightly agitated tone and chuckles, kissing your forehead again. “Y/N, my sugar-pie, what’s bothering you?” There has been no doubt in you that San wouldn’t catch on that you’re being weird, and though you’re really glad he did, it, for some reason, doesn’t make the topic any more easier.

“It’s—“, you begin to stammer, and with your struggle comes San’s immediate help. He shuffles back a little bit so he can take an analytical look at you, all blushed and worked up over a dream you can’t even remember the half of. San’s eyes are droopy, and while right now, it’s because he’s tired, in your dream, it was because he wanted to ‘eat you up…’

“It’s too embarrassing to explain.”

San gets the arm away from below and leans his head against his hand, propping himself up. “Embarrassing?”, he asks and pouts with a slight smile, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks. “Is it an embarrassing matter or just you who’s soooo easy to embarrass, huh?”, San grins and taps your nose one time with his finger to loosen you up, looking you straight in the eyes to give you all his attention. He’s showing to you that you, dearest, could never be embarrassing to him. Everything you do, he’ll take serious and anything you say, San will listen to it, as he’s shown you over and over again, reaffirming it to you every day and night.

‘I’m going to show you my love, all of it.’

San sees you licking your lips and putting your words together in your overwhelmed brain. You’re not nervous of how San will react, that is for sure, it’s just that… Where do you start? ‘Hey, boyfriend, I think I want to have sex with you?’ That does get the message across, but the words have to leave your mouth first.

It’s hard. You don’t think you’ve ever said the word, ‘sex’ in the context of… actually having it, let alone desiring it. San watches you spiral— starting to inhale, but then losing your words— and strokes over your head, humming “Just start with the basic outline—“

“I had sex with you in my dream.”

San stops stroking your head for a hot second and you two are just looking into each other’s eyes. San notices now how red you have become, how flushed you look, what a cute girlfriend you are for being embarrassed about this and shit, how lucky he is that you’re his and not anybody else’s girlfriend who you are so adorable playing with your hair right after you just dropped the “s-bomb” on him.

You don’t know what’s worse: Him, waiting for you to continue your talking before he can react to your … attention-grabbing introductory sentence, or you, not having anything to follow up. He probably expects you to tell your dream, but— but not in front of San himself, no! You’re quiet and continue to be, until he takes it upon himself to break the silence.

“… Did you wake up?”

Huh?

“What? Of course I woke up, I’m here now.”

“No, sweetie,” San wheezes softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, while you finally let your eyes stray away (his gaze is unbearable), “I’m asking whether you got to see the end of it.”

“The—“, you parrot him, and while you do San smiles sheepishly, apparently finding you so endearing while you are in mutilation, a foreign warmth growing in your stomach, “— end?”

“I just don’t want to scare you, Y/N,” San hums and twirls your hair around on his finger. “This is me asking where your head is in this situation.”

You blink and San pushes his lips out to indicate that he’s waiting for an answer, or at least something to give him to know if you’re in need of consolation or advice. “Uhm,” you inhale, “I… saw almost everything, I guess.”

His reaction could mean a lot. The dimple in his cheek getting deeper, his nose crunch, him sucking in his lip — it could mean a lot, but also so little.

“Almost everything,” San re-confirms, you know that this description is still very vague.

Gathering your shards of confidence, you murmur, “I mean… We saw each other naked often, so I think that’s why my brain could— do that, but when it came to that, it… You know. It surprised me.”

“That,” San repeats and by now, he definitely understands the superficial parts of your dream, but you have yet to drop any details. Was the dream a good one? Or well, was he good?

As expected, he wouldn’t dare to ask you that right now, looking at how you’re stammering awkwardly. You can still read it in his eyes though; his curiosity is asking you whether your dream has changed your attitude about sex, let it be for the better or worse.

You know San is going to show understanding regardless, right?

Yes, absolutely right.

“Y/N, sugar, we can talk about this tomorrow or any other day you like. I’ll keep it in mind, if that’s what you want.”

Maybe you should say something before San thinks the dream has made you negatively speechless. Well, it did make you speechless the whole day, but now, you’re almost bursting with the things you want to say, like they’re brewing inside you but not getting flavourful yet.

“No, Sannie,” you whine and put your hand on your eyes to hide yourself from his way-too sincere eyes. This isn’t how people do it in the movies or in the books. They usually just… get it on, no? Like they eat each other up, like it’s a necessity for survival, like eating to meet hunger, like quenching your thirst. You don’t know if this is a feeling like that. Whether the uncomfortable warmth inside you is truly the embarrassment but rather the reaction of your memories. ‘Let yourself be all over me.’

“Yes, sweetie,” San croons, removing his hand from your head to leave you by yourself even more, your palms resting on your eye sockets.

You love him. You’ve never doubted this, and you’re not doubting it now. From the moment he confessed his love to you, you having to get used to the idea of being in a relationship to now, almost a year later. You’ve mentioned it to him haphazardly already, but you’ve done everything except have sex. It had been San’s idea to ease you into the twosome-ness of it all; ‘let’s be each other’s person’. He said that in your dream, too, and finally you understood it.

You remember your long-lived confusion before today too well. San was your person as you were his, him with his own set of needs and expectations, you with your own — but weren’t they contradictory? San needed the sex, didn’t he? Like… sexual needs?

No, “sex isn’t a need”, San explained to you back then, “it’s a way!“

You tried to bring up the whole concept of orgasming being healthy to him, but he continued with “to me,” and you are reciting these words in your head as you try to think of something good to say, “sex is just one of many ways to love you, Y/N.”

So, truth be told, despite having a virgin girlfriend, he orgasms a healthy amount still. Sometimes San does it while you’re sleeping next to him, sometimes he feels like he can’t resist to look at your peaceful, tranquil, breathtaking face and does it in the bathroom, but essentially, he is not having sex, just getting rid of his ‘bodily mishaps’.

While you thought of sex as this strange way to get rid of stress, San thought of it as something way more, but he wouldn’t try to convince you of it, if you didn’t give him your “okay” to talk about it at all.

But here you are. Okay. You’re finally ready. Or maybe you’re not, but you’re ready to try, try with San, try San. He’ll be your person, get to know where you like to be touched, get to know where your sweet spots are and you will hopefully do just the same— touch, no, lick, no, touch, lick and suck everywhere he wants, pour your yourself over him. You’ve wanted to find out how to do that since you’ve dreamt of it since last night, processing the brain-sensation it has left you with for the whole day.

“Do you think you want to tell me about your dream first?“

“Can you kiss me?”

“H- huh?”

You get your hands from your eyes and your vision is too blurry to precisely get the picture of his rather shaken expression in. San thinks you’re bold. Mostly because that’s what you are right now. Bold. Still embarrassed, but encouraged and desperate. “Can you kiss me?”, you ask again before you fall into another pile of self-embarrassment.

“I can, but I don’t know how it’s going to help—“

You pull his face closer to yours with both of your hands and San is the one who slightly turns red now. “Y/N,” he pants, and you have to suppress a cheeky smile, when you push his cheeks together to form a duck-face.

Until you notice he’s not being sulky with the way he’s trying to push you away.

It takes you a while, how would you know that it was so easy to get men erected? Okay, you’ve seen San get a boner in the most uncomfortable situations several occasions, but usually they weren’t because of a direct cause.

If he had worn a baggier set of pants, you probably wouldn’t have seen it, but it’s only his shorts today, and the whole outline of it is almost jumping into your face, you couldn’t have not seen it. Not remarking it also wouldn’t have helped the situation. Your situation. ‘I won’t stop, I won’t stop fucking you all night.’

“Is that why you don’t wanna kiss me, Sannie?”, you murmur and flutter with your eye-lids, once your realise you’ve been staring for too long down there.

In contrast the voyeuristic scene, it strangely does not become one of those erotic moments; with San’s whiny chuckle, it actually becomes kind of … bonny. Him getting a hard-on, when his girlfriend is quite figuratively trying to open up with him, it becomes a small detail to poke fun at, one to laugh about it with an amiable awareness that you’re not mocking each other.

“I’m sorry— ignore this— I can ignore this,” San tells you and flops on his back, grabbing all of the blanket to roll around it and leaving you cold with less. “Hey!”, you pout and grab the seam of the blanket to get under it, but San gets ahold of your wrists to prevent you from cuddling to his side.

Maybe it’s because there’s nothing else occupying San’s mind and body right now, with you knowing it, or the way you can’t keep your hands off of him and he’s desperately trying to avoid your touch, it seems like a short game of cat-and-mouse.

“I don’t care that you’re hard, Sannie!”, you whine and search for his vicinity, but he wiggles away, forcing you to be a bit more assertive and wring with him.

“But I do!”, he exclaims, not really understanding the weight that your words hold. You just told him that you’re not appalled by his erection, that should be a big sign that you’re, uh, up for conversation, no? Why are you being like this? Maybe to keep up the tension? Because it’s fun? Fun playing around with San— to watch him try to use as little strength as possible, knowing that once he gets just the tiniest bit of muscle in, you’ll be overthrown?

“Sannie,” you make a sullen face, breathing out, at your third try to get your arms around him with San’s hands on your wrist, but when you get caught in the blanket with your leg that he keeps pulling, it’s over the second he yanks you to the side.

Yanking you to the side meaning pulling you by your whole body— you landing on his belly, arms awkwardly angled towards your torso, leaning into his face.

“You men”, you theatrically moan to tease him even more and San is fighting with all his inner voices right now. Most of them are just empty screams of ‘what is happening?!’, but also muscle memory persuading him to wrap his arms around your perfect waist and pin you down— he’s trying, that’s what he’s yearning to tell you by pushing his eyebrows down. “I’m sorry.”

“Ohh, Sannie,” you sigh, letting your head drop on top of his breast, crossing your fingers into San’s, while he manages his breathing.

“This is why I’m no dream man, Y/N,” San pouts, feeling guilty having used his power over you.

“It’s natural, isn’t it?”, you answer — letting your hands fall to each side of San’s body, and you feel like one of those people that usually tell you the same thing when the fact that you’re a virgin slips off your tongue. ‘It’s natural, isn’t it? That couples have sex?’ It should be and it’s going to be, thank you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I was really not prepared for that,” San wheezes and he raises one of your intertwined hands to touch your fingers with his lips.

“What? The cuddling or the dream?”

“The cuddling, in the context of the dream,” he answers honestly and inhales your sleepy scent from your fingertips, feeling how comfortable you lay on top of him.

“It was a good dream,” you conclude.

This was what San was trying to find out. Good or bad. And to his luck, it was good. Very good. ‘Such a good girl… So good to me.’

“Y/N?”

You accidentally zoned out, re-imagining your reverie; San all over you, sweat dripping down from his skin onto yours, his pelvis pistoning into your raised legs. How had your brain come up with that? It felt so… real. “Sorry, I got lost there for a second. What did you say?”

“How was he, that San in your dream?”

“The San in my dream, he,” you chuckle, feeling your breathing accumulate to your boyfriend’s, “… did everything, but he wasn’t careful, no.”

“What?!”, San exclaims, and it seems like he’s offended by his alter-ego to dare such a thing— he lets go off your hands in the shock and grabs you by your shoulders. “Not careful?!”

“Hmm,” you try and calm him down, letting your hands glide onto his pillowy breasts, massaging your fingers into his flesh by circling them, “he was inside… But a bit… Too fast for my liking? I mean, I don’t know my liking… I was enjoying it in my dream, but— uhm, I don’t think I could handle so much right now?”

San hums, as in to show that he heard what you said, but it took him a second of you burying your hands inside his armpits to inhale, “wait, right now?”, and remove his hands from your shoulders.

“Sannie,” you murmur with closed eyes, the buzzing feeling inside your lower abdomen swaying you to something like slumber, but if you’re not mistaken— and you’re sure that you can’t be mistaken about your own thoughts— it’s not a slumber that can be cured by sleep, but rather something else, “I couldn’t think of anything else today.”

He’s silent. He’s still breathing— thank goodness— but even though you can hear his breath leave his mouth, it doesn’t seem like San is going to say something. Pushing your upper body up, you tilt your head down.

He’s silent, sweaty and breathing, breathing heavily, staring upwards at you with sunken eyes, unable to let any of his thoughts leave the safe space of his mouth, because if San did, he’d give himself trouble for it. Seeing you fix your gaze— eyelids droopy from having been smushed into his breast— seems to only be adding fuel to his loss of good sense, and San is praying in his head that you won’t lick your lips once more, because oh god, if you did, you are going to be in so much more trouble than he is.

“Baby?”, you ask, and you swear you’re not trying to provoke him, since you only call him baby in the most special occasions, but right now, it just slipped out of you because San is being a bit strange.

Boyfriends don’t act like this, do they? Your boyfriend doesn’t; that, you can be sure about.

“Sorry,” you correct yourself, hopefully to get rid of some of his— well, what was it— anxiousness?— no, frustration?, “I didn’t mean to say ‘baby’. It just slipped out.”

“N- no, Y/N, it’s not your fault, it’s mine,” San whines. “This may sound really weird, but while I would rather die than hurt you, sugar-pie,” he murmurs, avoiding your heavy gaze on him, “I am… a man. And I don’t know how comfortable you are with me, but I am fully, undeniably erected, Y/N. Don’t go around calling me baby right now, or I’ll turn like the San in your dream.”

“How does an orgasm feel like, Sannie?”, you ask, purposefully innocent, but still in a way that makes it obviously suggestive, your tone dropping in an octave from its initial high-tone embarrassment. Where is your sudden confidence coming from? You don’t know, but- uh- well, you’re kinda over San here, both mentally and physically, it seems like.

“It feels like…”, San sighs, both reminiscing his lifetime of orgasms and feeling pretty fucking awkward in general, to be explaining this to you, while his body is screaming for him to do anything but talking.

“… It feels like being washed over by refreshing water on a hot summer day, after easing yourself into it with small splashes.” San is no poet and he sees this by how you’re flexing your face together, trying hard to understand.

“It feels like…,” he starts again, and you can swear you are feeling something twitch underneath you, and it’s probably his hard erection. “… Orgasm feel like, wow… How do they feel like, they— Uh…”

Somewhere between his words, San is looking at the ceiling, letting his eyes wander around everywhere your body isn’t laying dangerously close to his throbbing genital, but having to tell you how orgasms feel like is just the end of his senses. Now it’s not only his body urging him on, his girlfriend is trying to find out how they feel like without having experienced one, ever.

“… They are worth it.”

He’s trying to be a good boyfriend, but up until now, he’s been used to being the boyfriend of a virgin girlfriend who didn’t want sex at the moment. And that was the end of it. Definitely more than manageable, more doable than … this.

“Do you think I can enjoy them too?”, you question, revealing to him the true nature of your curiosity.

You’ve confirmed the pulsation between your legs seconds ago, when San let out a whine from his mouth, that was definitely not intended to sound as sexual as it did. You’re a virgin, not dumb, you know what’s seductive, sultry and arousing. Oh, you’re aroused, alright, maybe for the first time in your life— and your boyfriend is, too, so if this puzzle isn’t going to be put together this night, there must be something wrong in the air.

“I can’t speak for you, sugarplum. It was your dream, Y/N.”

“I don’t know how we started, but we were here, on our bed, naked, and you were… thrusting into me with this… almost scary vigour, it was— It was rough. And that one, I didn’t enjoy. You looked mean, Sannie.”

“I’m sorry,” San pouts and he looks downwards to show how sorry he is, but also to focus on your words only. If he sees your sweet face describing those things one more time, then he’ll have to disappear into the toilet soon. “I would never treat you like that.”

You blink a couple of times and lick your lips. “How would you treat me?”

“I would,” San mutters, finally meeting your eyes again, while he slowly, but surely begins to prop himself up by angling his arms, getting to your face-level. “I would treat you with care, reverence—with tenderness; I would get every inch of your skin to understand how it feels to be seen and loved, I would—“, he pants, he’s unable to breathe through his nose, and he just keeps on talking, he…

“YN, I— I would do everything to get to make your body flourish with my love, to make your heart grow with all I have, I want to—“

He goes silent.

Yes, San is a man. But it’s strange to you how he blames being a man for his weakness, but if there is a strong suit that your boyfriend has over you, it’s not being so strong that he can pull you down in a second— it’s having the mind of a lover, and a lover who promises to protect everyone he loves with his strength, and not because he’s getting his own satisfying release out of it.

A man and a lover; San is also your boyfriend, who knows what to tell you to make you grow weak. Let’s say he doesn’t do it a lot for reasons that include wanting to protect you, but as you are on top of him, listening to his words from beneath you, his words melt like fizzled honey on your tummy, crumbling with them.

“I want you, Y/N. And that’s my selfish dream.”

Being pulled down by gravity as San’s upper body rises, down to his crotch, you let him work his silent ways. He pushes himself up the last inch that it takes to be under your face, and his skin radiates heat onto yours.

There is not even a centimetre separating you two and San finally finds his words. “Please”, he begs, his voice above a whisper, “let me be your dream, Y/N.”

“I thought we already went through that,” you chuckle, getting your arms on each of San’s shoulders now, “baby.”

You can see he’s enjoying this a little too much, the way San is thoroughly covering every inch of your skin with butterfly kisses, as he has you laying on your back, letting you rub your hands over his torso to get used to the ‘intimacy’-part of it all.

Getting naked was an easy process, being exposed to the very last skin on the other hand, not. You’ve never been naked in front of him for this specific occasion, and since he knows, San doesn’t dare to rush you into more touching than needed, allowing your underwear to wrap around your privates until he’s finished giving you goosebumps all over the body.

With his soft lips, San kisses your shoulders and collarbones, whispering words of comfort into them, while you try your best to not make any lewd sounds. You didn’t know they came naturally, you had thought it was acting but — oh, goodness — no.

“Sugar,” San sputters— rearranging himself over you, one knee between your legs, the other over your leg, “let ‘em out. Let the sounds out.”

You gulp, as he glides his hand across your stomach to your lower abdomen, slightly scratching the seam of your panties, and San has placed his lips at your jawline, his voice vibrating in your ear, peppering kisses around the corner of your neck, entrancing you to fall deeper into your mattress, sighing in the calming feeling of your boyfriend.

“Only because you wanna hear me,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his upper body, running your hands across his back muscles that ease into your touch. “And that’s a bad thing, because…?”, San hums and begins to get lower with his kisses and his thumbs caressing where your pantyliner meets your thighs, warming up the small patch of skin there.

“Hmm,” you breathe out, San’s lips working their way down your cleavage, “Good… point.”

San smirks and brings his hands up, not letting a second pass where he is not feeling you under his fingertips. “There is nothing more that I want to hear,” he murmurs, his eyes appearing to become a bit foggy from your scent, San becoming absolutely lost in it, “except you, my love.”

Your breath comes out stuttered and stroke his bangs away to the side in order to have a better view on his face above your breast. He’s radiant, but as much as he’s excited to be doing this, San will stop as soon anything leaves your mouth asking him to, he promised you. In your dream, San just kept going. That’s why you didn’t want to retell the story. He forced you around, he thrusted into you with no choice, and he wouldn’t stop, until your dream cut off without you having orgasmed once throughout the thing.

So the dream itself didn’t get you to want this, and San knows this, the curiosity did. Curiosity of reaching the edge that you missed in your sleep, which you think you can only reach with the real San, with your real boyfriend.

“Can I touch you here, sugar?”, San asks, his upper body hovering over your torso, lips approaching your face, hands gliding up by your waist to meet your ribs. He’s done a good job not staring at your exposed nipples, but following the way from your jawline, neck, and collarbones, this is the next area to appreciate.

“Yes, please,” you answer, cupping your boyfriend’s cheek with one hand, inviting him to kiss you softly. San encloses your breast with a hand that has up to no muscle tension in it, kindly allowing it to get used to the new, but warm contact.

His rosy lips meet yours and he presses several kisses on them, reminding you of how much familiarity you’re dealing with right now. You kiss San all of the time, for all the reasons you love him, and as he kisses you right now, at this sleepy midnight, he’s showing you why sexual intercourse is just a fancy term to describe something so complex, that it actually becomes simple. He loves you. That’s all he has to do to have or not have sex with you.

With his palm, San brushes over your nipple, and by wonder, it hardens and makes goosebumps run over your back.

“You look so beautiful,” San lulls, smooching your lips one more time before he can finally take a look at your breasts and gulp, lick his lips, and ask you, “may I?”

“You may.”

The last kiss lingers delicately on your opened lips, as San breathes in your breast, kneading and softening it up. Automatically, you exhale and run your fingers through his uncombed hair. He sucks once and twirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, and with your very valuable feedback, his other hand draws a long line across your curvature.

“Sannie... Baby…”, you whine, the slow, but sensual licking sending you down a sensation of being tickled and being caressed at the same time.

“Yes, pie?”, San grins, proud that he’s making you feel this way, no, that it’s him that is making you feel this way for the first time in your life. With each of your sweet sounds, his pride and ego grows and his lips lap around your nipples razzingly.

You tug at his hair and send him down deeper into your skin, slightly pushing him to get his head where you’ve found that you feel best, grabbing the fabric of the bedsheets under you with your other hand.

“It feels so good,” you whine, and San chuckles after seeing your grip, gliding his hand right between your ticklish fingers.

“Yeah?”, he coos and presses another kiss onto your mouth, adoring the way your eyebrows twitch inside according to his voice. “I’ll make you feel even better…”

San caresses the area under your boob, whispers into your ear, “Will you let me?”, and you nod, words inside your head turning into hazy exhales out of your mouth.

“You won’t regret it,” San chuckles and crosses his fingers into the surface of your hand, using your own hand to slowly, but surely slide down your stomach. You kind of get the idea of what he’s trying to do, but not really the image.

“You think I won’t regret it?”, you ask him, a bit anxious, — it’s your first time, after all— your soft skin under both of your fingertips becoming one, as he leads the hand down. “I don’t know so,” San admits, comforting you by kissing your forehead, “so I’m going to make you believe it, first.”

“Hm?”

San pushes his upper body up with the hand that has been at your breast and glides it behind your back, so he can get between you and the mattress, his naked upper body pressed against your shoulder. He plants an uncountable number of kisses onto your neck, and assists you down to your panties, keeping his eyes on you to confirm you’re okay with all that he’s doing.

You’ve never touched yourself on this bed. The last time you did was somewhere in your gleeful high-school teens, long before you met San, and if you’re honest, you’d rather have him touch you, but when San kisses you on the lips and both of your hands slide under the seam of your underwear. The rough fabric of the lace scrapes San’s hand and you meet the hot slickness you’ve become inside.

“Would you look at that,” San purrs, voice wispy— his finger is the only one to glide against your wet labia and explore the untouched lips. It helps that your hand is down there too, and it feels like a rubber hand illusion, you touching yourself while San does it for you.

“Y/N,” San moans into your ear, stirred by the sensation that is you. “You feel so good, don’t you, sugar?”

You inhale sharply, when San’s finger strokes over your clitoris, and straight away, your boyfriend presses kisses onto your temple. “S- Sannie,” you whine and provoked by your sounds, his finger circles around your clit again.

Sparks, tingles — you name it. With San kissing you all around the face to counteract the new stimulation, you can’t keep your legs straightened, folding your thighs around your and San’s arm with an overwhelmed sigh. “Sannie…”, you repeat yourself and look him in the eye.

“Aww, sugar,” San smiles and catches your forlorn gaze, flushed and drowned in his kisses. Your cheeks are burning red, but the same thing goes for San. Both of you are drunk in love, falling for each other deeper with every breath you take.

“Is this good?”, he asks and rubs your back with his thumb, the other finger teasing the slick entrance. “Y- yes,” you answer and San crunches his nose in admiration, slowly easing his finger around the tissue.

“Can you touch yourself for me?”, is San’s second question and you gulp at the sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice. He’s talking two octaves deeper, raspy, lascivious; he’s promiscuous in all he is doing, let it be nibbling at your earlobe, rubbing your clit, caressing your spine with utmost libertine care— you have a feeling you’re developing another crush for your boyfriend.

“Y- yes,” you stutter, but a bit anxious about doing something wrong. It feels so right when San does it, but he’s the more experienced one in this— at least that’s what you think. He removes his hand from the surface of yours and lets you do the rubbing for a short moment, and you try to replicate what he did to you, flicking your finger over your clitoris.

“Doing it so well,” San comments and he raises your upper body with his arm, making you sit up, slithering down while smothering your lower abdomen with sloppy kisses.

“R- really?”, you ask, and San nods, while kissing the inner sides of your thighs, his eyes looking at you sideways. “Of course. It’s your body, Y/N. Your beautiful, gorgeous body.”

As San gutters, you feel something swaying on your clit, when your boyfriend smirks and looks directly at your pussy. He’s so handsome, San is making you nervous, and his eyes are drilling into you lustfully.

“You’re so beautiful everywhere, sugar, what have I done to deserve this?”, he pants, hooking himself from under your thigh, hands resting on your hip bone.

You don’t know what to answer and just flutter with your eyelashes, exhaling, when San sticks his tongue out and slides across your slickness it in one stroke, looking up at you to catch your whiny reaction. He deserves all of it, not because he was patient enough to wait for it, but because San is the one to make you feel this pretty in the first place.

“It’s probably really predictable I was going to say this, but I can’t not say it, ” San gutters, his dimple dug deep into his cheek— he’s smiling, licking his lips, “you taste amazingly sweet, my love.”

You press your lips together and feel like you have to push San into your arousal again by his hair, combing through it. “D- do it again,” you beg, and San’s heart flutters. Not letting you wait, he inhales through his nose and laps his mouth around your glistening cunt. You already knew he was good with his tongue for you have french-kissed him before, but— but this is another type of tongue-work.

It’s slow, it’s sensual, but it still feels so exhilarating— how he’s sucking in your clitoris, laving over your muscled entrance that reacts to the movement of his tongue; it makes you breathe heavily and let out feathery moans.

“Feels so good,” you hush, and stroke his hair. San hums and at smiles with his eyes, getting one hand away from your leg to slowly run it towards your vagina.

“Are you really going to … make me cum?”, you ask, a bit plumply, both out of rush and nervousness.

“I would like to, yes,” San answers, kissing you all around the pelvis bone. His lips have become plump and his nose is also painted rosy red from how he planted his face into you. “Will you allow me to?”

“Please be careful,” you appeal and San nods. “Yes, Y/N. I promise I will never do anything to you that will hurt you. Not like that stupid… dream-San you talked about.”

You chuckle and caress his jawline with your thumb, San leaning his head into your hand. “I know you would never do that, Sannie,” you say and prop yourself with an elbow. “Please make me cum.”

San wants to say something, but he bites his lip and suppresses it, crawling closer to your throbbing, heated pussy. “What is it, baby?”, you ask him, and this time, you deliberatelywant to tease him by calling him that, winking slyly at him.

Your boyfriend blinks in disbelief and lets out a light-hearted scoff, his breathing comes in and out stuttered. “Y/N,” San hums, putting a leg over his shoulder and you feel like more air is hitting your wetness, “you have no… idea… what those words are doing to me.”

Your boyfriend gulps, and as you peek at him innocently, having to get used to the new position, he looks amazed and set ablaze. Is this your ‘aroused face’? You, with your lips parted ever-so soppily, looking sultry and lovable— San is savouring this sight, oh, this sight, and saving it into his brain so it will never leave his mind, add it to the collection of his memories of you.

“Show me,” you whisper, a fire starting to enflame in you, demanding San to extinguish it.

“There’s nothing else in the world I’d rather do,” San hums and with that sentence, he’s at your cunt again, but more eager this time. The tongue flicks faster over your clitoris, his pants are getting breathier against your skin— San wants you, wants all of you, and before you know it, there’s a thumb rubbing at the entrance, notifying you that he is going to be penetrating soon.

“I’ll make you come over and over,” San breathes, and his eyes are filled with lust, hunger, desire, thirst— and you gasp at the sight of it alone, but his voice, his heart, his mind, is all painted and drowned in something purely innocent that is love. “Is that alright with you, sweetheart?”

He asks as if you stand a chance to resist him, but San seems to be doing this for the enjoyment that is pleasing you, and you’re more than happy to allow him to have his body all over yours for the sakes or it, because you love him so much. You’re already excited for when you know how to get your body all over his.

“That,” you exhale, feeling his thumb be replaced by his digit, the muscle of your entrance closing in on the finger tip, “is alright with me. I’m in, Mr. Choi, the deal’s settled.”

San chuckles at your light-hearted joke and you giggle as well, which allows his finger to glide into you slowly. Of course you’re tight, but you find it fascinating how your muscles ease around him and suck his finger in, the slickness squelching, as he licks over your slit.

“Looking forward to our cooperation,” he grins, lips pressed against your pussy and you can feel yourself slowly turning into mush. Your abdomen feels strangely ticklish, and there’s this pulling feeling that makes your body rock.

“… Ms. Choi.”

You scoff— San gave you his last name, how silly of him— but your amusement doesn’t hold on for too long, when San begins to move his finger around, angling it up and down.

“Mmhf,” you gutter and your legs close down on his head, the second leg finding its place on his other shoulder. “That—“, you try to gasp, but San being the quick learner he is, keeps stroking that one spot which got to this reaction in the first place.

“S- San!”, you whine; fuzzy, dizzy, light-heated, feeling like you’re going to shoot into space, to other worlds, and come right back to earth. In the meanwhile, your boyfriend’s tongue flicks even faster, head stuck between your thighs, his finger sliding in and out of you until you’re a whimpering mess.

“I’m here, baby,” he murmurs, finally looking up to you, wishing to meet your eyes again, but your head is rolling to the back, your upper body feels heavy and you slightly fall to the back, having to grab his hair to support yourself.

“I- I,” you stutter, feeling like there’s something that’s sizzling for explosion, and it seems San is feeling it too, in the way your pussy is tightening around his finger, and half-laughing out of glee about this discovery, San props himself up a little bit, your lower body raised from the mattress.

“Cum, sugar, cum,” he whispers, and as he adds a second finger that fills you up in a way that one finger couldn’t achieve, you fully suffocate him with your thighs, the thin string holding you away from release finally snapping.

“Fuck!”, you moan, and at first, San is surprised about your cussing, but then his eyes grow big, when there is more fluid coming out of your vagina that hasn’t been there beforehand. Explosion, sweet release, what should you call it? An orgasm— that’s what this is, but no, you’re also squirting, lower body spasming as you do so, and San is trying to react quickly by slurping it all in, but it’s too much— your bed gets wet. He drives the two fingers in and out and makes you a mess, makes a mess, makes you messy, getting all your squirt out and inside his mouth.

“San— Sannie— Baby!”, you pant, overstimulated by his fingers and lips that will just not stop, and you fear you’re going to choke your boyfriend to death with your thighs, but the same tingle appears in your lower abdomen again, felt everywhere in your tightness.

“Come on, come on, come on,” San growls, short of breath, and by angling his fingers upwards your walls, you see stars again, throwing your head into the bed and you pull at his hair, harshly and roughly, gripping his scalp for dear life, when you’re shot into bliss again.

“Ooooh baby,” San howls wispily, repeating his motion, but less ecstatic this time in order to not make you pass out from pleasure, if that happens at all.

And as licks the remaining fluid of his lips, and gets you back down again, San doesn’t lose any of his excitement, hair ruffled by your grip, lips swollen from using them so much. “Can I do that again? Can I please do that again?”

“Wha— What about you?”, you ask, panting, knowing that the penis inside his pyjamas has been hard since almost an eternity, but it seems like San doesn’t care about that at all. He looks euphoric, he looks like he saw a god (a goddess, mind you) and San just shakes his head.

“Don’t think about me, I’m,” he admits, and what you don’t know is that he just came inside his pants, when San saw your stunning orgasm-face— and he definitely has to clean it up before it soaks through, “all cared for here.”

San shuffles away from your legs to your face and kisses your forehead, wiping a bit of sweat away. “I’m gonna get towels and you’re gonna make yourself ready for a second time, alright?”

“But—“

“Will there be a ‘but’?”, San asks, and he’s prepared to let all go and just take a shower, but you just scratch your neck. “Don’t you want to fuck … me?”

“Ohhh, don’t worry, sugar, I want and will,” San grins and you smile, feeling a bit light-headed because of your first orgasm. For this to be your first orgasm, while many of your friends had their first time without having orgasmed—… it’s a lot, to admit the least.

Not to say that you’re trying to compare with them and feel superior, but if this is what’s waiting for is worth, you’d spend all that time again.

Again. And again, and—

“Again!”

You’re breathing heavily, skin slippy from your sweat — or, well, both of you are covered in body fluids, there are pearls of sweat dropping down on San, who, despite rubbing you clean with his hands, doesn’t even bother anymore to dry his wet arm anymore.

“Sannie,” you exhale, when San kisses your from behind, as you sit between his legs, “I- I th-think this is enough, I’m r-ready.”

“Hmmm?”, he hums, pressing his naked upper body at your back, his two fingers coming out of you for the nth time. Your hips have been spasming around for a long while now, and you feel sensitive and over-stimulated at your clitoris, but if there is one thing you’re still curious about after all those orgasms, it’s how San feels inside you not with his fingers but his girth.

“I want your dick inside,” you command directly, too sex-drunk to express your wish in any other way.

“Are you sure?”, San asks and kisses the nape of your neck. “We can do it any other time, sugar-pie, aren’t you tired by now?”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

You turn your head around and slightly pant, seeing San not lose any of his desirous colour in his eyes. “Then let’s not lose any time.”

San presses a deep kiss on your temple before he leaves your back, and you feel the warmth of his lips sit there, as he positions himself at the front, on his knees. He still has his boxer-shorts on, but that only goes so far, when he’s been leaking with pre-cum, never-mind has come in the same set an hour ago.

You can see it perfectly— San’s length, his girth, the way it moves by itself under the fabric; it looks captivating as much as it is arousing you again after all the times you’ve orgasmed this evening.

“Do you want to touch me?”, San asks, and trails his own hand over his breast, giving you an idea of what you can do to pleasure him.

“Yes, baby,” you answer and get on your knees as well, grabbing San by the hips and caressing the seam of his shorts with your thumbs. In the meanwhile, your lips seek for his vicinity and you place kisses on his neck. “I’d love to.”

“I love you so much,” San sighs and holds you by your head tenderly with both hands, cupping the circular form, feeling you get a taste of his sweaty skin at his neck. His Adam’s apple bops, when you slightly pull his boxers down and there’s resistance from his erection.

“You have a big dick, right?”, you ask, and San coughs— he was expecting you to say ‘I love you’ back first.

“U- uh,” he stammers, “yeah. It’s- uhm. I hope it’s not too big, Y/N.”

“Can it be too big?”

You ask him with genuine curiosity and San scratches the back of his head. “I was preparing you thoroughly for it, honey, that’s all… I can say.”

He harrumphes in the awkward conversation, and before he can get shy from your stare, you chuckle and kiss him, “I love you too, Sannie. I couldn’t imagine doing this with any other person.”

Your boyfriend slides his hand to your jaw and pulls up your head to kiss you, mumbling, “only do this with me, Y/N,” into your lips.

As his lips work against yours, you slide down your hands into his boxer-shorts and use your wrists to spread the spandex, getting San’s underwear off.

With your eyes closed, you hear San breathe in deeply through his nose and he rubs your back with both of his hands to push your naked body against his.

His dick feels hot, wet and mild, when it presses against your abdomen, and you subconsciously grind your lower body to identify it better. It is big. The two fingers don’t even come close to what you’re working with here, and in the moment, it’s really good that you feel loosened up by the numerous times San made you come.

“Please touch me,” San instructs you and you nod, opening your eyes to see his glistening tip pointed towards you. Without waiting, you leniently wrap your hand around it and San parts your lips to pant.

“I don’t think I’ll hold on for long,” he whimpers, and his pelvis twitches, when you squeeze your hand around the soft, heated, slick muscle.

“Wait, Sannie… Do we have condoms?”, you ask and to your surprise, San opens up the cupboard. You loosely remember when San asked you if he should buy condoms at the beginning of your relationship, and you know that you answered with an ‘I don’t know’ back then.

A year later, it turns out San has bought a pack, but didn’t talk about it until the time was ripe. “Do you want to do it for me?”, he asks you, ripping apart the plastic wrapper with his finger and mouth. That this took a wet dream to realise is funny to you, but as you’re in the moment, you can only gulp in anticipation.

You nod and continue to pump his length in your grasp, when you’re handed the flimsy condom. Is that even going to fit around him?

“Yes, it is going to fit,” San giggles at your subconsciously asked question, and then kisses you, “did dream-San wear a condom?”

You place the center of the condom on the tip of penis and slowly glide down the lubed silicone by the ring.

“No, I don’t think so,” you murmur, though you couldn’t care any less about your dream right now. San hums and bucks up his hip into your hand, making the condom hit the end of his length.

It frankly looks quite comical, the way the white outlines your boyfriend’s dick, but before you can laugh, San delicately pushes you at your ass— other hand on the back of your head to not make you hit the bed-frame, with you landing on your back, legs angled towards the sky.

San tsk’s about his alter-ego’s wrong-doings and shakes his head. “I think your brain has a very twisted image of me.”

You chuckle at how sulky San is about it, though you can’t take any responsibility. You also don’t know how your brain cooked up the imagination of San ramming into you raw, especially when your biggest fear has been that things were going to hurt. (Now that you know they don’t, you’re good to go, you think.)

But the real San touches you softly, carefully, endearingly faintly, even if his dick looks intimidatingly big; you’re covering your mouth at the sight of it alone.

“Come on, don’t be shy now,” San grins and flops his protected peen on your pussy, the girth of it weighing down on your sensitive bud.

“Sannie, baby, please be gentle,” you whine and San caresses your cheek, not finding your plead in any way offensive.

“I will, sweetheart,” he whispers, and his voice sounds sweet, melts sweetly in your ears, but when his tip is there, at your entrance, you have to grab his hand at your cheek forcefully.

It’s a stretch. If you had known it would have come to this, you would have asked San to add a third, no, maybe even a fourth finger, but maybe he knew too, that even that wouldn’t have helped with a lot.

Not to say that it hurts, but to feel your muscle be extended as he just pushes in the tip, you’re already panting. San intertwines his fingers and leans forward, trying to calm you down. “Are you okay, baby?”, he asks, pouting. “I can stop.”

“N- no,” you stutter, though the bit of movement has had him slide in deeper and thus, your cunt be stretched further. “It’s okay. Just be slow. I can do it.”

“No, Y/N, you have to want it,” San sighs and you press your face against his hand. “I want it,” you murmur, glancing up at him. “I want you, Sannie.”

He smiles in awe of your droopy eyes and luscious lips reaffirming your love to him, and San inhales deeply. “I’ll move a bit more, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of you inhale at the same time, but it’s San this time to moan it out. “Oh, god,” he whimpers, “feels so good, Y/N. Feels so fucking good.”

And this is where you close your eyes and let your boyfriend do his thing over you, because San’s sounds are candy to your ears. He’s doing it slowly, and heaven knows he can’t push it just entirely just yet, but the first third that San has inside you is enough to make you grip the sheets.

“Are you alright? Baby, is it too much? Can I do more?”, San whines, and you’re too weak-hearted for his arousal-sake, that you sigh sultrily and say, “Sannie, you know what to do.”

“No, no, baby, please don’t say things like that, I really won’t—“

He groans and pushes himself further in. You have to strain your forehead and pull in your eyebrows to work around the fact that you have never felt your cunt be stuffed in like this, and oh god, you feel so stuffed.

“Baby, please tell me when you want me to stop,” San begs you, concerned about your facial expression, kissing your cheek repeatedly.

“This just feels unfamiliar, that’s all,” you whimper and San pulls out a little bit while you talk. “But you will tell me, right?”, he asks you, and gets a nod in return. You should be seeing black in front of you, given that you’ve closed your eyes, but after San pushes himself in again, there’s a piercing zap that makes you open your eyes wide.

“Sannie, wait—“

He immediately stops and both of you look at each other. San doesn’t move, anxious that anything will make you more anxious, when you grab him by his arms.

And with one glance down, you see it.

Blood.

Not a lot, fortunately so, but still, bleeding from your privates outside your period is terrifying, and it makes all of your heat flee away—

Blood!

There’s not a scream or a gasp leaving your mouth, rather just a short soundless inhale that indicates your surprise, when you close your eyes and cover them with the surface of your hands.

Blood?!

“Oh my god, sugar,” San exclaims silently, you don’t know if this is a first for him as well— and though both of you don’t panic as loudly as you could have, your boyfriend still looks mortified, eyes ripped open, mouth opened by a slit, when you remove your palms from your eyelids. “Did I hurt you? Did it hurt? Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I—“

“No, Sannie, it didn’t hurt— It didn’t—“

Not panicking, but still both stammering and not aware of what to do with your hands.

He pulls out and covers your private with the towel that he used to catch your fluid before, and San immediately claims a serious expression on his face, looking around to find something for you to hold onto. He finds you a pillow, puts it over your stomach, and you cuddle into it, trying to catch a breath.

You didn’t lie. It didn’t hurt, it really didn’t. At least not even half the the amount of blood that is covering the towel, and you don’t think anything else (let it be more preparation or whatever) could have had helped you two in this situation. Is it just a matter of luck? Of your body? Well, maybe you’re out of luck and your body is going lax as well.

San is removing the condom from his dick and fetching his boxer-shorts again to fully call it quits, using approximately 4 seconds before he disappears in your arms again and smothers you with kisses.

“But— but Sannie…”, you whimper, feeling kind of guilty to be leaving him hanging like this after he’s done so much for you, but he silences you with his lips.

“Don’t you dare say sorry, sugar-pie,” San smiles and brushes over your hair, continuing to peck your face, as he hugs you from aside, and his warm skin soothes the goosebumps you got from seeing red on yourself. “As long you’re not hurting.”

“Do you want to take a shower or do you want to sleep?”, San asks you and you shiver a little bit once the adrenaline has worn down and all that provides you comfort is your boyfriend’s vicinity. “I don’t know, Sannie,” you murmur into his breast and a hand rubs your back. You’re still naked, but San covers you up with a blanket. “You don’t have to know, sugar,” San whispers and rests his chin on top of your head. “Just be here with me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

You nod into his embrace, feeling exhausted, worn out and tired, and you start to breathe heavily into his skin, San rubbing his thumb across your lower back to match the rhythm of your breathing, your heartbeat slowing down.

You’re safe.

You’re home.

You’re not dreaming, you’re with your boyfriend, Choi San, and even though nobody will know what kind of dreams will visit you, what nightmares will make you wake up in the middle of the night, you’re, well, in love.

Comfortable, soft, warm, at ease, serene — happy; this is what love feels like. A dream doesn’t come close to the unworried warmth love provides, to the warmth the real San provides, and while you doze off, you and San whisper affirmations into each other’s presence that you’ll,

“Dream of me, Y/N.”

#choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #ateez x reader #ateez smut #if you wanna see an epilogue pls request it because i find boyfie san so endearing #chokkiwa #chokko

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

Text

Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.

Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

...

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It’s a newer song, and it’s one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone’s emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don’t have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

This is another re-post from my old blog, and I do have a sequel for it in my drafts, which I am not actively working on. And before I post the sequel, I do plan on tweaking this and revamping it a little, but I figured I would repost this for now just to have the masterlist complete on this blog.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.

…

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.

“Who are your friends?” He asked.

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.

“No way.” You scoffed.

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.

“I am.” Dick said firmly.

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.

…

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.

You had no clue that you’d end up living together.

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.

…

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”

“Shut up.”

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.

…

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.

…

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.

But you would never admit that he was right.

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.

You just glared, and he smirked once more.

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.

“I know.” You grinned at him.

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.

…

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.

…

Hectic.

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.

So you took the leap.

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.

“You need this treated.” He added on.

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.

“Jason-”

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.

But of course, he cut you off.

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.

But, no dice.

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.

Jason sighed through his nose.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.

…

Dick explicitly told you to stay put.

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Jason!”

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.

…

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.

‘Maybe I just have to care.’

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.

“It’s nothing.” You told him.

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.

Jason shook his head at this statement.

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.

“I meant what I said.” You told him.

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.

He didn’t find any.

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.

…

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.

Panic flooded you.

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.

“Don’t move!” He shouted.

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.

He thought he was a dead weight to your life.

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.

You ignored him.

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.

But of course, you refused.

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.

So Jason did what he had to do.

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.

…

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.

“All done.” He said quietly.

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.

You felt your heart sink.

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.

It was something else.

It had to be something else.

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.

And now he was trying to back down from that.

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.

You were both so vulnerable.

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.

He knew that it would break him.

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

PLEASE NOTE: I do have a sequel in mind for this, but I don't know when I am going to have it finished and posted. Please do not ask me to write more of this or ask me when the sequel will be coming. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work here that I have already written.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut

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forgeofthenine · 29 days

Note

Also another one for Rolan, since some people seem to have a mod that replaces Gale with Rolan or something? I've only seen screenshots... Anyway, how does Rolan's magic play into his romantic life? Is he also into super weird astral projection threesomes? Does he summon pianos to play music in the background? Does he entangle his partner? Questions upon questions

I think I've come across that mod while modding my own game! I considered figuring out how to use it to kiss Dammon and then decided not to, maybe I should reconsider? Either way, I hope you enjoy the headcannons even if half of them are SFW, I actually used my new mechanical keyboard to write them instead of my phone (this fancy keyboard makes me so excited lmao)

NSFW under the cut

CW: Double penetration, Voyeurism, clone sex, bondage

Everyday magic with Rolan

SFW

Rolan LOVES some mundane magic, any opportunity is a good time to practise his magic

Your houseplants are looking a little sad? Don’t worry, he’ll use a spell to summon some water for them

You don’t have enough hands to multitask cooking a fancy dinner? He’s ready to help and doesn’t even need to stand

You hate cleaning the much too high up windows in Ramaziths Tower? Rolan has that handled too, don’t worry about it

He’s always looking for new ways to reinvent spells and impress those around him and that extends to his domestic duties as well

Sometimes, if he’s feeling a little cheesy, he’ll summon a gentle gust of wind to knock you off balance just enough for him to swoop in all romantically and be your prince charming

You’ll also generally find him perusing his library with an assortment of books and quills floating near him, or being moved off to the side when he doesn’t have need of them anymore

Mind your head if he doesn’t know you’re there, the room is essentially filled with projectiles

Rolan is also a master at summoning things over to his desk as he works so he never has to get himself up

That is, until you insist on dragging him away for a break

NSFW

If you don’t think Rolan uses his magic during sex then you don’t know this man

He loves some good vanilla love making, and it’s usually his go to, but using his magic simply adds some spice to things

Rolan is fully willing to make a magic clone of himself for the sole purpose of fucking you, whether he’s off to the side simply watching or getting in on the action himself he’s happy either way

He’s surprisingly into spitroasting you with his clone, especially when he gets to tease you as you’re moaning around said clone

Another thing he’s into is double penetration, there’s nothing Rolan loves more than seeing you spread out and taking two of his cocks

That’s not the extent of how he can use his talents in the bedroom however, far from it

Having magic abilities also makes bondage much, much easier luckily for Rolan

He could work it out ‘the normal way’ if he wanted, but this wizard would rather just skip to the good part

Silk ropes or thorned vines, Rolan just loves to see you bound and at his mercy, writhing with every touch of his skilled fingers

You’ll be feeling the fleeting touches of fingertips over sensitive spots for what seems to be hours (but is truly mere minutes) before he finally pulls you against him and has his way with you

Rolans not usually one for manhandling, rathering sweet kisses and declarations of love while taking care of your needs in bed, but using his magic in these ways lights a particular fire in him

Hopefully you’re able to hang on for the ride

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan x reader smut

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enchanteleclerc · 11 months

Text

reckless feeling 🂱 cl16

genre: 18+, literally pwp, canon compliant, fem!reader who is max’s gf (oops i do not condone cheating tho!)

word count: 2k

You don’t know how it happened but somehow you find yourself sneaking off to the bathroom with Charles while your boyfriend receives his championship trophy.

a/n … hihi! my first fic hence why its so shit so would love feedback LMAO this is literally my first time fully writing something since school so bare w me pls. anyways enjoy ig :))

warnings … penetrative sex, cheating, public sex, dirty talk (degradation and praise), unprotected sex, rough ish sex? idk

After just over a year absorbed into the lifestyle of a ‘Formula 1 driver wag’, it was at this point you truly began to wonder what it was you were doing here. The annual FIA prize-giving ceremony was happening around you, and despite the number of glasses of champagne you had downed as ‘liquid courage’, you couldn’t feign interest beyond a few tight-lipped smiles and absentmindedly clapping whenever the crowd did so. Not that anyone noticed, of course. Your boyfriend had just won his second championship. You should be over the moon. But it didn’t seem as if Max even cared for it. Sitting beside you, his attention was divided equally between whispered conversations with Christian Horner and something on his phone. To anyone else, you may as well have been a stranger assigned to the seat beside him, but his hand on your thigh brought you some comfort, you supposed. Minimally affectionate and hidden. Exactly how Max liked it.

“What’s so funny?” attempting to include yourself in the seemingly hilarious conversation between Max and Christian, earning you blank gazes from both parties. “Nothing, babe. You wouldn’t get it. racing stuff, you know?” Yeah. Got it. Thanks a lot, babe. The scoff that left your lips, punctuated with a roll of your eyes, was lost on the two men, and so was the way your eyes landed naturally on the man seated directly in front of you. Green eyes stared back at you with a knowing smirk that, if you had not been seated, would probably cause your legs to give out. His brown hair was neatly combed for this occasion, accentuating his crisp suit featuring a Ferrari emblem. You’d pretended to pay enough attention to Max’s conversations tonight to assume the man undressing you with his eyes in front of you was Charles Leclerc, runner-up in the championship. If you knew Formula 1 drivers looked like that, you’d have paid much more attention to the season.

Realising you’d been staring and subconsciously checking him out, Charles sent a wink in your direction. Cheeks burning and your throat suddenly dry, you reached for your champagne glass before noticing it was empty. Chuckling at your attempt to play it cool, Charles pushes his full champagne glass across the table towards you, which you happily accept, brushing your finger against his in this exchange. A large sip of champagne was needed to distract you from the way your thighs clenched at the feeling of Charles’ skin on yours right next to your boyfriend. Max had never caused you to feel like this, especially not from such a small interaction.

”You alright?” Geri caught your attention with her hushed whispers. Your fingers clenched around the base of the champagne glass to quell the dizziness in your head. “Yeah, um, thanks. I just need to go to the bathroom.” Nodding back at Geri, you place the champagne glass back on the table before excusing yourself to the bathroom. “Be quick. Max will be on soon.” She offers you a smile as you walk behind her, but her words don’t seem to reach you as your eyes connect with Charles again. Seeing him follow you with his eyes and place his glass down as you had done before made your heart race beyond belief.

Walking into the bathroom much faster than you had anticipated in these heels, you sigh in relief at the empty bathroom as everyone was in the main hall watching the awards presentation. And yet, the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing didn’t alarm you, neither did the feel of someone turning you around and crashing their lips on you. Lips kissed yours beyond any kiss shared between you and Max. Your arms wrapped around his neck, allowing your fingers to thread through his hair as his own wrapped around your waist. The feel of his cold rings on the heat of your open back caused a gasp to fall from your lips, a gasp that Charles took advantage of by deepening the kiss and leading you backwards towards the sink. His hands wandered from your lower back to your ass before giving it a light squeeze, inviting you to wrap your legs around his torso as he placed you on the sink, him standing between your legs.

His lips moved to a place on your neck that had you throwing your head back for more. Eyes fluttering, you catch a view of the pair of you in the mirror, but the moment Charles’ hands ran up your thighs, scrunching the material of your dress and pulling your red lacy panties down with it, your undivided attention was on this man. If you could form any coherent thoughts, you would laugh at the irony of wearing red lingerie, but you couldn’t at this moment. He did everything confidently and did not care if someone walked in and saw. He wasn’t ashamed. Not even when his hands crept up higher up your thigh, where you needed him the most. The way he watched your reaction to everything he did through half-lidded eyes was enough to bring you over the edge, but once his fingers attached to your clit, you knew this boy would be the death of you.

”Please, Charles”, you whimper, causing him to chuckle at your desperation. “Aw, baby. Max not pleasing you enough?” he mocks. You bite your lip and shake your head. He could ask you simply who Max was, and you wouldn’t even be able to answer it the way Charles touched you like this; there were no thoughts beyond how he was making you feel. The moan that fell from your lips when he inserted a finger into you was almost pornographic. Charles had to stifle a groan of his own, feeling the tightening pressure in his pants becoming close to unbearable.

”Good girl”, he rumbled lowly as your hips grind towards his fingers, clearly desperate for more the way your slick was dripping out and making a mess of the counter. He inserts another finger inside of you, and the way you clench around his fingers has him clenching his jaw to maintain the little composure he has left. The thrusting of his fingers and the musical quelch they make in this bathroom turn you on beyond belief. The thought of someone— let alone Max— catching you like this, on the verge of an orgasm from the skilful fingers of his rival, sent you into a mind-numbing orgasm, your pussy clenching and unclenching around his fingers as lewd noises left your mouth.

Before you even had a moment to return to reality, Charles dragged you off the counter, turning you around and bending you over it. “Fuck. been thinking about this pussy all night.” The distinct sound of a belt unclasping and a zipper being pulled down had your back arching on the counter. The coldness of the counter biting into your hips perfectly contrasted with the fire burning within you, sending your emotions on overdrive. He drags the tip of his cock along your slit, coating it in your slick before pushing it inside you without any warning. His eyes flit from where your bodies are connected to the reflection of your face in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered closed, and your lips sealed together to conceal the symphony of moans threatening to leave your mouth. Charles was drunk on the view of seeing you take his cock like you were made for him. All tight and wrapped around him like a present on Christmas day.

He pulls out and thrusts back in again, his hand firmly gripping your hips, which you will surely be bruised by this and the way your body sways forwards from every thrust. You struggle to adjust to his size, larger and girthier than Max by a large margin. The way he’s stretching you out so perfectly has you throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts. One of his hands leaves your hips and goes to rub your clit in small circles, causing a moan from you that was much louder than you expected. Immediately you brought your hand to your mouth to muffle the moans, but Charles gripped your hair and pulled you up, letting your arms fall down to the counter to support you.

”Nuh uh. Don’t hide your moans. I want Max to hear what it sounds like to actually please you” his hand wrapped around your throat, adding slight pressure to it while speeding up his thrusts. The volume of your moans increased exponentially, thankful for the loud crowd on the other side of the bathroom door. He holds your neck so your faces are so close as he drops some of his spit into your mouth and tells you to swallow. You do as he says and stick your tongue out to show him after, to which he chuckles. Charles could tell you to do anything at this moment, and you would comply with absolutely no hesitation.

”You’re such a good girl for me, hmm. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while Max is getting his award. I bet you want him to walk in, huh?” your head shook, but you couldn’t deny the way your pussy clenched around him at the thought of Max walking in on you in this compromising position. He pushes even deeper inside of you, your legs trembling from how sensitive you were from your last orgasm.

”Fuck Charles—” you say, leaning your head back on his shoulder, not missing the way he groaned and sped up his pace when you moaned his name. “I’m gonna cum. Please, Charles,” you plead, but he already knew you were close by the way you tightened around him.

”Cum for me, baby” Almost on cue, your body trembles and shakes around him. His grip on your body tightens to hold you up; you’d be a puddle on the floor without it. He doesn’t cease his movements, however. Your finishing moan is disrupted by his vigorous thrusts that seem to be speeding up, if possible, yet shallower. You can tell he is close too. The way he pants out your name and beads of sweat fall from his gorgeous face.

”Inside me, please”, you beg, seeing the way his grip on your hips tightens and his eyes darken in the reflection of the mirror. He paints your insides with his cum, continuing his thrusts, pumping you full of his cum. You sigh at the feeling of it warm inside you and shiver at the loss of contact when he pulls out of you.

”Please put your hands together for your 2022 Formula 1 world champion, Max Verstappen” The presenter’s words echoed through the bathroom walls as the gravity of the situation dawned on you and Charles.

—

Sitting back at the table as inconspicuously as possible, Max sent you a glare beyond words but still placed his hand on your thigh affectionately before his head snapped to Charles, taking his seat on the other side of the table. His hair and suit were messy and crumpled. A stark contrast to the perfectly polished Charles merely a few minutes ago. Doing nothing to subdue his messy state, he slumps in his seat with his legs spread out and reaches for a new glass of champagne that must have been placed in front of Charles’ seat when we were gone. Sipping the champagne, he maintains eye contact with Max and me, sporting a cocky smirk. If Max didn’t notice you leaving right before Charles or both of your absences when he received his award, he definitely notices now. Max wasn’t an idiot. He knew. He didn’t know all the details, of course— he didn’t know that you were full of his rival’s cum to the point where it could be dripping out of you, soaking into your dress and into the seat. He didn’t know Charles had your panties stuffed into his suit pocket. And he didn’t know that this was the most interest you’d shown in anything regarding this sport. But he knew enough.

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬)

Pairing: Morpheus / Dream x (female) Reader

Summary: being reunited with your lover, Morpheus, after he’d been captured for nearly a century

Warnings: angst, smut, tiny bit of dry humping I guess?, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (m+f), multiple orgasms, minors DNI

A/N: here we are adding another pale emo boy to my never ending list of men I’d like to fuck lmao! title is of course from Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics! I hope you guys like this <33

p.s. this was not properly proofread bc I was in a rush to post it before I left for holiday so I’m so sorry for any spelling and grammar mistakes, hopefully it’s still readable lmao

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Here’s here! He’s back!” Lucienne pants as she barges through your door, or what was left of it at least.

You sit upright from where you were lying on the bed.

“What?” You squeak.

“He’s back. Morpheus. He’s here. He’s back at last,” she smiles at you, elation and sadness both mixing in her eyes.

You waste no time in following her, the two of you running through the ruins of your once beautiful castle until you reached the throne room. Your breathing fast and shallow, your heart pounding ferociously in your chest.

“Morpheus!” You all but sigh in relief as you finally lay your eyes on your lover.

He was standing by his throne, one hand rested on its back, dressed in his usual dark attire. For a moment your breath hitches in your throat. For a moment it was almost as if he’d never left, as if he’d been there, where he belonged, all this time. But your reverie is quickly broken when you feel the pang in your chest, the pain as it hit you again just how long your lover had been kept from you.

“My love,” he calls back quietly, his tone as serious and calm as it ever was.

He descends the stairs slowly, making his way towards you. You didn’t have it in you to be as calm and reserved as him. You raced towards him, closing the the distance between you as quickly as you could. You almost don’t stop when you reach him, you just crash into him. Your arms fling desperately around his neck, pulling him down into you. His hands snake around your waist and pull you flush against him, his palms flattening against your body, his fingers digging into your back.

You bury your face into his chest, titling upwards to nuzzle against his neck. He buries his own face into your neck, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin, making your hair stand on end. Your hands wander up his neck, moving to run through his hair, tugging it tightly, afraid that if you let go he’d somehow disappear again. You’re so lost in the moment, of having Morpheus back in your arms, you almost completely forget about Lucienne until she clears her throat lightly.

“I’ll, er, let you have some time alone,” she murmurs.

Morpheus raises his head slightly to nod an acknowledgment at her. As soon as she’s exited the throne room you tug him down by his hair, crashing his lips against yours. You both moan desperately into the kiss as your mouth greedily devours his, as if you could somehow make up for a century of having his lips parted from yours.

You didn’t need to talk, to say anything. There were no words to comprehend this moment. Instead you let all your feelings pass to him though your lips; a century of torment parted from your lover, a century of aching for him, of feeling so empty and incomplete. ‘I missed you’ simply wasn’t enough.

You moan softly again as you push your body against his even harder, arching your back and curving yourself into him. You feel a gentle smile tug at Morpheus’ lips as his hands hold you even tighter against him. Your hands move to tug at his long coat, pushing it off his shoulders. He lets the coat slip off his body before he presses into you even harder than before, walking you back a few paces.

You gasp in surprise against his lips when you feel something hit the back of your knees. You twist your head to suddenly see a magnificently large bed placed behind you. The sheets were black silk, it’s frame made from darkest of brown woods, gothic twists and turns carved into it’s structure.

It was beautiful. It was Morpheus.

“I almost forgot how much I missed that trick,” you smirk, referring to Morpheus’ ability to manipulate everything around you in the dreamworld.

Morpheus just hums deeply against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as he tilts you further backwards, gently lying you down on the grand bed. He moves to kneel at the edge of the mattress, pausing briefly to slip off his black t-shirt and toss it to the floor. You feel your heart flutter with a mix of pain and excitement as your eyes take in the sight of his pale torso. He looked exactly the same, exactly as you remembered him. The nostalgic familiarity of his body causes a flood of emotions to surge through you, a tear blinking in your eye.

Morpheus notices your tears as he leans down over you, positioning himself above you, his hips against yours. He shushes you gently, bringing a hand to cup your face, his thumb swiping at your fallen tears.

“Shh, I’m here now, my love. I’m here,” he whispers before kissing you gently again.

Suddenly the messy urgency of before dissipates, melting into a languid and lazy kiss, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. Your hands roam over his torso, revelling in the smooth skin you hadn’t touched for a century. You feel the soft contours of his body, the ripple of his muscles as he holds himself above you. You scratch your nails down his stomach, eliciting a deep groan from Morpheus. You stop your movement just short of the small trial of dark hairs on his lower abdomen, sliding your hands back up his body until they clasped around the back of his neck once again.

As Morpheus kisses you his body starts to slowly rut against yours. You can feel the buckle of his belt dig into your lower belly as he grinds himself on top of you. Another moan passes your lips when you feel how hard he is; his cock straining against his dark jeans and poking between your thighs. You shiver and whimper when he moves his hips further forwards, pushing against your clothed pussy, providing the tiniest amount of friction.

Your hips buck up into the movement, humping him just as fervently as he was humping you. Your back arches, your covered chest pushing against his bare one. Slowly the urgency and desperation from before starts to creep back into your kiss, into your bodies. His mouth starts to attack yours more hungrily again, his lips moving faster and more greedily against your own. Your hands tug on his hair again, silently pleading him for more. His hands run down your body, grabbing at your hips and giving them an almost painful squeeze.

“Morpheus please,” you whisper. “I need you,” you whine, pushing your hips up against his for emphasis. “I need you to fuck me.”

He groans deeply again at your words, his fingers almost trembling where they held onto your hips. His eyebrows furrow, his face twisting in contemplation, almost as if he was fighting with himself, or fighting to control himself.

“I- I want to take my time with you, love,” he murmurs against your lips.

You shake your head lightly, your nose bumping against his.

“We can take our time later. We have all the time in the world now you’re back,” your sigh against his lips. “But right now, I just want you to fuck me. Please. Please,” you plead with him.

You continue to murmur the word ‘please’ against his skin as you kiss down his jaw, along his throat. You make your way to the spot just below his ear, the one you knew always drove him absolutely wild. Once you find the spot you bite gently at his pale skin, sucking quickly to pull a bruise to the surface; you were determined to show the worlds, dreaming and waking alike, who Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams himself, really belonged to.

Morpheus grunts when you suck harshly on that sensitive spot. His hands run up your body quickly again, snagging on the hem of your shirt and hurriedly lifting it free of your body. He groans deeply when he realises you weren’t wearing a bra, his gaze burning as he takes in the sight of your perfect tits. It seems he practically has to force his gaze away as he sits up and begins to make quick work of undoing the fastenings of your jeans. You shimmy your hips, helping him as he tosses them aside. You sit up, ferociously crashing your lips against Morpheus’s again as your shaky hands fumble desperately with the fastenings of his own jeans.

But he pulls your hands away, not so gently shoving you back down onto the mattress. He looks down at you with a commanding glare in his eyes. You move to sit up again but he grabs your jaw in his hand, pushing you back yet again until you were lying hapless on the bed.

“Morph-“ you whine, cut off when he squeezes your jaw.

“I will take my time with you, my love,” his voice is a whisper and yet it holds all the command and authority of a king.

A whimper lodges in your throat as Morpheus starts to drag his hand down your body. He gives your throat a gentle squeeze before his hand is trialing down your chest, between the valley of your breasts, over your stomach, right down until he reached your navel. His gaze follows his hand, his eyes mapping your entire body as you squirm naked beneath his stare.

“I’ve missed this body,” he muses to himself, his eyes glazed, drunk on the sight of you. His eyes snap back up to yours before he adds; “I’ve missed you.”

He looks at you with such an intense and sad gaze that you feel your heart twinge again, a tear pricking your eye. You take one of your hands and place it over his where it still rested on your lower abdomen.

“I’ve missed you too,” you squeak, giving his hand a squeeze.

He flashes a soft smile, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips so that he could place a chaste kiss to your knuckles. Your heart twists at the gesture; it was something he used to do frequently before he’d disappeared. He bumps his nose against your knuckles before gently placing your hand back on your stomach. His small smile twists into a smirk when he finally leans forwards again, hovering over you. His lips land on your chest and begin following the same trail he’d just made with his hand.

You shiver as he kisses down your body, his lips somehow cold and yet burning like fire as they sear down onto your skin. You bite your lip as you look down at him, his eyes trained on yours even as he kisses lower and lower down your body.

When he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he first places a gentle kiss to your pussy lips. His hands move to tuck under your thighs, helping to hold you open. He flashes you that tiny beautiful smirk again before he finally licks a stripe up through your folds. You shiver at the sensation, throwing your head back immediately. It was almost outrageous how just the lightest of touches was already driving you wild; you are simply just horrendously desperate for your lover’s touch. And he was more than happy to oblige.

Morpheus licks through your folds a few more times, spreading a mixture of your arousal and his saliva all through your slit. A strained profanity slips past your lips when he finally starts to focus his attention on your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, his tongue swirling it languidly. Your hips buck, your body jerking under his touch as the feeling almost overwhelms you. You swear you can still feel his smirk as he brings one of his hands from under your thighs, moving it to splay across your lower belly again, pushing you down and pinning your hips to the mattress. You whine, a sound somewhere between frustration and pleasure.

“Mmm, I’ve missed your taste,” he groans against your cunt. “You always taste so exquisite. Just heavenly,” he hums.

You whimper, his name falling from your lips in a sinful moan. He reciprocates your moan, the noise vibrating through to your clit as he sucks it back into his mouth. Pleasure sears through your body, a fire inside that you’d not felt for over a century. Your head almost feels dizzy, your breathing shallow and fast, your skin tingling, your fingers and toes almost going numb as all feeling is focused in your core.

“M-Moprheus,” you whine, twisting your head to hide in the sheets, almost embarrassed by how quickly your orgasm was building.

Your thighs tremble and shake on either side of his head, your toes curling and pushing against his shoulders. He moans against you again as he feel you start to buck your hips more fervently against his face. He glances up at you and sees how you’ve twisted to cover your face, hiding the heat in your cheeks as your body surged closer and closer towards your climax.

“It’s okay, my love, just let go. I want you to let go,” he whispers gently.

You mewl, your fingers knotting harshly in his hair, your back arching and your neck twisting even further away from his stare.

“Look at me, lover, please. I want to see your face,” he pleads quietly. “I need to see how good I make you feel.”

Though he may be pleading there’s still that edge of command in his tone that lets you know it wasn’t really a request and there really wasn’t any room for arguing. You bite your quivering bottom lip as you slowly lift your head to look at him. You moan lewdly as you catch the sight of him between your thighs. His gentle blue eyes are somehow dark with lust, his hair even messier than usual from where your fingers were gripping it. You can just about see, as well as feel, the smirk on his lips as he keeps his tongue swirling over your clit, sucking softly at the same time. The sight and sensation of it all is finally enough to tip you over the edge.

“O-oh, fuck,” you barely manage to choke out as pleasure races through your entire body, spreading from your core right into the tips of your fingers and your toes.

You fight the urge to toss your head back and arch your spine as you desperately try to keep your eyes on his. You feel his smirk grow into a small grin of pride as he continues to just lightly suck on your clit, enough to prolong your orgasm without making you go too sensitive. When your body has finally given every ounce of pleasure it had to offer, for the moment anyway, he removes his mouth from your cunt and starts kissing your inner thighs again lightly.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs lowly against your skin, placing another kiss to your thigh. “You did so well for me,” he praises gently.

You slump back against the mattress again, your chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath. Morpheus just continues to kiss all over your thighs as he gives you a moment to recover, occasionally biting and sucking a hickey into your skin. Feeling the wetness of your euphoria on his chin and lips as he kisses over your skin feels deliciously filthy.

His hands stroke the back of your thighs and your ass, grazing over your hips, causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh, a shiver running through your whole body. Your hands loosen their grip on his hair, instead just stroking his head lightly as you try to relax and just revel in the feeling of being with your lover once again.

But it’s not long before you start to feel the ache build in your core again, your cunt clenching desperately over nothing as Morpheus kisses tantalisingly close to your pussy.

“Please,” you beg quietly, your head lulling to the side again. “Please Morpheus, I need you inside me,” you almost cry, your voice pitching in tone.

“Shhh,” he kisses the inside of your thigh. “All in good time, my love,” he promises.

He continues to kiss at your thighs for a short while before you feel one of fingers gently brush through your folds. You mewl at the feeling, at the promise of more. He swipes his finger through your slit, gathering the wet mixture of his spit and your cum. It’s like fireworks explode in your chest when you finally feel his finger push into you, slowly and gently stretching you open. You swear your body was about to combust when he’s quickly able to add another finger, your wetness making it all too easy for him to pump his two fingers in and out of you.

Your fingers knot tighter in his hair, yanking hard as he starts to curl his fingers, searching for that sweet spot inside you. He hums in satisfaction, kissing your thigh again when he hears a squeaky moan lodge in your throat, knowing he’d found the right spot.

“O-oh fuck. Yes...” you whisper with a shaky breath as he adds his mouth back into the mix, his tongue smothering over your clit again.

He curls his fingers in time with his tongue, stroking your sweet spot with the pads of his fingers as his tongue swirls circles around your swollen clit. Your body feels impossibly hot, the pleasure making you feel tingly as it races through you. Your orgasm builds even faster than before, rushing to the surface and breaking over your body. You can barely moan Morpheus’ name as he pumps and sucks you through your second high. You convulse and shake, your body almost twitching from the pleasure, your pussy clamping over his fingers as he slowly continues to curl them against that spot inside you.

Morpheus hums in satisfaction again as he steadily slows down his movements, slowly bringing you down from your high. He sits up, his eyes never leaving yours, before he gently pulls his fingers free from you. You gasp at the loss of contact but the sound quickly develops into a full blown moan when you see Morpheus bring his two fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean of your juices as he continues to stare you down.

You can’t wait any more; you needed this man to fuck you.

You didn’t even care how sensitive you were from your first two orgasms. You sit up and grab him by the back of his neck, yanking him harshly down until his lips collided with yours. Another moan escapes you as you taste yourself in his mouth, the tang of your arousal coating his tongue as it roamed over yours. You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his, your perked nipples brushing against his skin.

Morpheus groans into the kiss as his body starts to move against yours, his still clothed hips slotting between yours. The tent in his dark jeans rubs against your pussy and sends a flare of euphoria through you again.

But it still just wasn’t enough.

Your fingers quiver as they fumble once again with the fastenings of his jeans; only this time he doesn’t move to stop you. You moan greedily into the kiss, your lips moving with an even more urgent hunger against his as you start to push his jeans and boxers down his hips. He breaks the kiss briefly as he shifts to remove his jeans completely, throwing them to join the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor.

The sound that leaves your throat when you’re finally able to take in the glory of his naked body is almost indescribable. He was just so painstakingly beautiful it genuinely made your chest ache. You can’t bring yourself to wait any longer as you reach forwards to grab his glorious cock in your hand. You swipe your thumb over his red and swollen tip, gathering the pre-cum and swirling it around his head. Morpheus all but shudders as you do so, his eyes fluttering as he tries to keep himself under control.

You’re just about to start stroking him properly when his hand clamps over your wrist, giving a quick but firm shake of his head. You release his cock as he gently guides you to lie back on the bed, his body crawling over yours. His nose bumps yours as he gives you a desperate and messy kiss before you feel the wet and warm tip of his cock nudge against your folds. Your fingers curl and dig into his shoulders as you desperately try to pull him against you.

Morpheus grabs his cock and helps guide it through your slit, gathering the mixture of his spit and your cum and coating himself with it. Then, at long last, you finally feel him start to push inside you. A whimper escapes traitorously past your lips as you feel the dull ache of him stretching you open. You could feel just how tight you were around him as he slowly pushes himself into you, slowly slotting himself to the hilt, until you could feel his hips flush against yours again.

You feel the light tremor in Morpheus’ body, the slight tremble in his arms as he holds himself above you. His eyes close and his face twists with pleasure, and with concentration, as if he was pouring all of his focus into not cumming almost immediately at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him after a century apart. His head hangs low, his fringe ticking your forehead as he pauses there for a moment, giving you a second to adjust, or giving himself a moment to gather himself before he loses himself completely to the feeling of you.

He takes a deep shuddering breath, searching your face. You nod quickly, bucking your hips again as you silently give him permission to move. He nods shortly himself before he obliges your request from the beginning and slowly but surely starts to fuck himself into you.

He’s barely started to move and already you can feel fireworks explode throughout your body. Your hips buck to meet his, your tits pushing up against his chest, your nails tearing at the skin of his shoulders. He shudders and groans as he feels you pulse around him, hugging his cock impossibly tight.

“Oh, my love, I’ve missed how good you feel,” he whispers with a deep groan, “how tight and perfect you are for me.”

HIs voice is so quiet, almost as if he’s rambling more to himself than to you. You can feel his breath tickling your face as he hovers just above you. His one hand holds himself up, resting just next to your head. His other travels across your waist, caressing the soft curves of your body. That same hand trails higher up your body, grazing the side of your breast until he reaches the apex of your arm.

You shiver, more goosebumps beginning to litter your skin as his fingers dance back down your arm. You mewl softly when his hand reaches yours, dancing over your palm until his fingers interlock with your own. He gives your hand a quick squeeze before he lifts it above your head, pinning it to the mattress behind you.

His name escapes your lips in a plea as he squeezes your hand again. At the same time he begins to speed up his thrusts. His pace is still relatively slow and steady; he puts all his effort is focused on trusting deep inside you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you with each snap of his hips. With each thrust another cacophony of moans fly from your lips.

“I think most of all,” he continues through his shaky breathing, “I’ve missed the sounds you make. The way my name falls from your lips,” he pants hotly, his breath fanning over your face. “You are divine,” he groans through gritted teeth, “like the sweetest dream there ever was.”

You moan his name again as you feel your body coil again, the fire burning and building in your core with each brush of his cock inside you. Morpheus pushes his forehead down against your own, his nose bumping against yours as his own moans start to increase in frequency. You almost smile as you feel a small jolt of joy swell in your chest. His moans grow higher in pitch and you knew it was his telltale sign that he was close to finishing himself.

But you also knew he never let himself finish first. And, as you expected, as he always used to do, he brings his hand, the one not holding onto yours, down between your bodies. His fingers find your clit quickly, wasting no time in circling it with expert precision.

His eyes search yours desperately, a century of unspoken emotions passing between the two of you. You knew there were no words to describe how you both felt. No amount of letters would ever be able to encapsulate the enormity of torment that had been your time apart.

Instead you just let your bodies do the talking. The glaze of tears in his eyes letting you know how much he loved you. The hunger of his lips when they moved with yours showing you much he missed you. The tight grip on your hand signalling that he would never let you go; a silent promise that you’d never be parted again.

You lose yourself in the moment. Nothing else exists other than here and now. You pay no mind to the crumbling castle around you, the vast and empty space that stretches on forever. All you see, all you feel, is Morpheus. Your senses are clouded and overwhelmed by him. The sight his ethereal blue eyes boring into yours. The smell of him, light and clean, refreshing and comforting. The feeling of his smooth skin under your palms are you claw at his back. The wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. The gentle sounds of his heavy breathing and soft groans in your ear.

“Morpheus, I- I’m close,” you breathe, nudging your nose up against his.

He nods lightly; “let go for me, baby.”

You whimper, something akin to a sob, when you hear him call you ‘baby’. He hardly ever called you that despite knowing how much you actually loved it. The pet name, his fingers circling your clit, and another deep thrust of his cock inside you, finally work to tip you over the edge once again.

This climax was different to the others; it was more intense but not in a way that felt overwhelming or too much. It was just the prefect amount of pleasure and you swear your vision goes blurry as you reel from the sensation. Your eyes roll back slightly, your head lulling onto the pillow, your jaw going slack as your mouth hangs open in a silent O.

“Oh how I’ve missed that view; how beautiful you are when you fall apart for me,” Morpheus groans lowly as he keeps fucking into you slowly.

His hips jut raggedly against yours, his pace faltering and his thrusts turning sloppy as he fucks himself towards his own climax. You paw at his back with your free hand desperately as you encourage him to let go. You slide your hand up his neck and fist his dark hair again, pulling tightly in the way you knew he liked. And it worked, as not a second later his hips still completely as he lurches deeply against you, finally climaxing himself.

He pants shakily, deep groans falling from his parted lips as his cock twitches inside you. You sigh his name contently as you feel the warmth of his release flood inside you. His hand shakes where it still holds onto your own. His other hand had moved to squeeze your hip as he slowly rocks you both through the remnants of your highs.

The two of you just stare at each other for a second, the both of you trying to make this moment last for a century, as if this could make up for the century spent apart.

Morpheus smiles gently down at you, his hand moving from your hip to palm your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You reach up to cup his face in return, your fingers softly tracing over his features. His eyebrows furrow when he sees a slight sadness behind your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks quietly, twisting his face to place a gentle kiss to your palm.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head slightly.

You sigh defeatedly before explaining further, warmth rising to your cheeks with a slight embarrassment.

“I want to say 'I love you', but the words seem somehow so small and insignificant, like they’d never be big enough to capture how I actually feel,” you whisper.

Morpheus just smiles gently, leaning down until his lips connected with yours in a gentle kiss. You both smile softly into the kiss when you feel the silent message pass from his lips to yours.

Perhaps words would never be enough to encapsulate how you felt about each other. But it didn’t matter. You could feel it in your heart. And, somehow, you just knew that he could feel it in his heart too.

Masterlist

A/N: just gonna tag my babies @mothdruid and @siempre-bucky as well bc I know how much they love this pale emo too!! I really hope you all liked this <33

p.s this will be my final fic for a short while as I’ll be away on holiday and taking a short hiatus from Friday onwards!

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 || eddie munson x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || eddie's been your dealer-with-benefits for just a few weeks now, but you didn't know that he had another friend to spend time with when you weren't available... a plastic friend that he keeps in one of his drawers.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || over 3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only, use of a fleshlight, penetrative/rough sex), dom!reader, sub/switch!eddie, slightly service top eddie?, reader is a proud slut, implied drug use, some fluff/feelings at the end, eddie being a sweet lil baby with a crush on his bimbo client

NO SPOILERS for stranger things in here!!! it's just smut with no relation to the plot of the show at all lmao

“Second drawer from the top,” he nodded in the direction he was indicating, and you bit your lip as you crossed the trailer to search for the goods.

After this many months of getting your supply from Eddie, you knew your way around the place. And on nights like this, when you were going to get high together, he let you get it out yourself while he prepped the grinder and papers.

“W-wait, not—” he started to correct you, because you were opening the second from the bottom, but it was too late. You’d already seen it, and you looked over your shoulder with a grin on your face as he started to blush.

“What’s this?” you asked tauntingly, picking up the black plastic fleshlight.

“N-no, don’t touch that,” he warned, “you… you don’t know where that’s been.”

“Oh, I think I do,” you grinned, standing up and starting to walk towards him. “It’s been around your cock, right?”

He stammered, but didn’t really say anything, as you sauntered towards the couch and admired the beauty of his flustered expression.

“Is this what you use when I have enough cash to pay for my shit the right way?” you wondered. But he probably thought the other way was the right way… it started small, jerking him off for a dime bag, letting him feel your tits so he’d share a joint with you. When you wanted enough to last you a while, you’d suck him off or ride him right here on this couch— or in his van, if you didn’t have time to go down to the trailer park for a deal. And you could tell he was getting a little clingy, now, wanting more and more of you, offering ‘free’ stuff if he could fuck you again.

Honestly, he was a good fuck, so there were times that you saved your money and just pretended you didn’t have enough cash to get your dose. You’d come here tonight with plenty to pay for it properly, but now… now you had new ideas.

“Is this what you fuck when you can’t fuck me, Eddie?” you continued taunting, sitting down beside him and looking at the toy more closely. “It’s better than just jerking off with your hand, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice cracking. “Yeah, it’s better.”

“Looks like it feels alright,” you shrugged, playing with the soft plastic end, modeled in the shape of a ‘generic’ vulva… not nearly as beautiful as the real thing. “Does it feel good when you fuck this, Eddie?”

He choked, but eventually nodded, and watched you slip a finger into the hole to feel the texture.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal,” you decided. “How do you use it— you put lube on first, right?”

“A-and a condom,” he added. “Easier to keep it clean…”

“That’s smart,” you smirked. “You fuck me without a condom, but sure, give the toy some courtesy—”

“I— I would’ve used one if you asked!” he insisted. “You said we didn’t need it—”

“I’m teasing you, Ed,” you rolled your eyes. “I just think it’s funny. You’re so careful with your toy, but so reckless with me… you don’t fuck any other clients raw, do you?”

“N-no,” he answered, “I don’t fuck any other clients at all… I… I actually don’t get laid that often.”

“Really?” you pressed, voice heavy with sarcasm. “That wasn’t obvious to me already considering you’re a social pariah and came in half a minute when I blew you.”

He swallowed, and you laughed, remembering how sweet it was when he came all over your face in a matter of moments— and started apologizing before he’d even finished. You promised it was fine— because actually, it was fucking hot— and he finally shut up when he watched you use your fingers to gather his come from your face and start licking it up. What are you doing? he’d gasped. Well, I can’t go back out there like this, can I? you’d replied.

“Still, I didn’t think you had this little number to come home to,” you giggled, admiring the piece. “Does she have a name?”

“I-it’s not a she,” he sighed, “it’s just an it. Can… can we smoke now, or what?”

“No, I wanna hear more about this first,” you insisted, and he groaned in frustration. “You didn’t give it a name, but… do you say a name when you’re fucking it?”

Of course, you knew the answer when he looked away quickly.

“Oh, baby, you can tell me,” you promised as you moved in a little closer. “Whose name do you say?”

“Y-yours,” he admitted, finally, and you laughed quietly again.

“That’s cute. You pretend it’s me?”

He nodded.

“Oh,” you smiled, “you must be very good at pretending. Because this thing isn’t nearly as good as me.”

You heard the way his throat caught on itself, and the way he breathed shakily as you reached forward to start opening his belt and fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, but you didn’t need to— you just reached into his boxers and pulled his cock out, surprised to find it already hard.

“Shit, Eddie, when’d you get a boner?” you giggled.

“Wh-when you said you were coming over,” he relented as you grinned, stroking him slowly.

“I’ve got you trained good, huh?” you noticed. “I told you I was bringing cash. You still hoped something would happen, right? But did you think this would happen?”

He shook his head.

“Put a finger in the toy for me, Eddie,” you instructed, and he did as he was told right away. “It’s not like me, is it? What does it feel like when you put a finger in me?”

“Feels like…” he breathed, looking down at where your hand was wrapped around his cock. “Feels like it’ll barely fit.”

“Mm, that’s right,” you agreed. “This toy isn’t that tight, you can only feel one wall at a time when you put a finger in. Guess it doesn’t matter when you’ve got this big cock to fill it up, right?”

He grunted through his teeth, and you stroked him a little faster.

“Still, it feels so much better to stretch me out, doesn’t it? Loosen me up a bit?”

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “Yeah, it feels better t-to fuck you. So much better.”

“And this toy, it can’t get wet for you,” you said like you were just realizing it. “That’s so sad…”

“You’re always so wet,” he remembered with a little groan.

“Not always, Eddie,” you purred, “just when I’m around you.”

“Oh, god,” he moaned, head falling back on the couch. You leaned forward and spit down onto the head of his dick, spreading it with your hand so you’d have a smoother go of it, and you felt his cock flex in your palm. “Fuck, that… feels really good…”

“Yeah?” you encouraged. “But the toy feels better than jerking off, that’s what you told me. How about I let you fuck that?”

“O-oh, um,” he stammered, “I— I just wanna fuck you. Please? You can ride me if you want.”

You snorted— if you want. Like it was a favor to you, and not him desperate to the point of begging. You loved that begging… and unfortunately for him, you wanted more. Ignoring his request, you took your hand off of him and grabbed the toy with your dominant hand instead— and slipped it down onto his erection.

“Shit,” he hissed, “please— it’s not as good, you know it’s not—”

“But it’s good enough,” you reminded him, your tone getting a little more stern as you moved the toy up and down over his dick. “It’s good enough for you to fuck this thing, what, a few times a week?”

“More like every night,” he admitted. “I… I fuck it a lot. Sometimes more than that.”

“Really getting your money’s worth, huh?” you mocked. “Tell me, did this cost more or less than it does to give me free drugs so you can fuck me?”

“M-more,” he answered.

“Funny, how my pussy’s so much cheaper but so much more valuable,” you grinned. “I’ve always been a bit of a cheap whore, Eddie— you probably know that about me.”

“I… I never thought that about you,” he promised.

“You didn’t hear the rumors?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“I did,” he admitted, “but I didn’t believe them…”

“Do you believe them now?”

You were surprised to see him shake his head. “You’re so much more than that,” he insisted, and you stuck your bottom lip out a bit.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed, “you’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you? Tell me, then— what do you think about when you’re fucking this? Pretending it’s me and all… what do I say, what do I do?”

“I— I don’t know,” he breathed, and you stopped moving the toy instantly— he tried to move his hips a bit to keep the pace going, but stopped when he caught himself.

“Don’t lie, Eddie,” you warned. “I like you because you’re honest. Don’t mess that up.”

He smiled slightly, eyes tinted with hope as he looked at you. “You like me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I can’t stand the sight of you, that’s why I’m hopping on your dick every other time we meet up,” you answered sarcastically. “Geez, Eddie, are you stupid or something?”

You heard that whimper, the one he tried to suppress. “N-no,” he denied half-heartedly.

“Do you get a little stupid for pussy, though?” you wondered, and he forgot to answer when you started moving the toy again— proving your point exactly.

“Ohh god, baby,” he whined, clearly frustrated as his fists held on tightly to the sofa beneath him.

“You were gonna tell me what you imagine me doing, when you’re fucking your little friend here,” you reminded him.

“I— I think about you getting on top of me,” he began to describe, eyes falling shut— you hoped he was imagining it now— “and kissing me… asking me to fuck you…”

Wow, kissing and then asking for consent. Doesn’t get much more vanilla than that. Good thing you found his innocence endearing— well, good thing for him. Not so good for you, as you were trying to avoid catching feelings. Normally you liked fucking guys because of the way they looked at you— in awe, amazed. And Eddie certainly did that, but you actually liked fucking him, you liked how he felt inside you and how he kissed your neck while he warned you that he was close. You’d told him so yourself, you knew those praises pushed him closer to the edge— but you failed to mention he was the only guy that you liked feeling inside you anymore.

You failed to mention he was the only guy you never faked it with.

“What else?” you prompted.

“And then I fuck you,” he said plainly.

“How?”

“Hard.”

It was your turn to bite your lip. Good thing his eyes were closed or he would’ve seen how his words were affecting you. “And what do I do when you fuck me hard, Eddie?”

“You… moan, a lot,” he mumbled.

“Oh, that’s right— this toy can’t moan for you either, can it? Wow, you poor thing. Nobody here to tell you how good you fuck me.”

“God,” he whined through his teeth, and you moved the toy faster and faster over him— watching him thrust up his hips to meet it halfway.

“It’s such a shitty substitute for me, but you’re still so desperate for it,” you observed. “Are you always this desperate, baby?”

“Not always,” he breathed, smirking a little, “just when I’m around you.”

Hearing him repeat what you’d said before took you by surprise— and Eddie didn’t surprise you often. He was pretty predictable. He surprised you that first time you did something like this, by— bizarrely enough— giving you a hug after you’d given him a handjob. Guys, overall, tended to react the same way to offers of sexual favors or to seeing your tits and all that, but that was new. And weird. But sort of sweet? Mostly weird though. He surprised you again by making you come when he fucked you, but that was a much more pleasant surprise.

Still, overall, you’d gotten the hang of him and his habits pretty quickly. He liked to kiss your neck, he liked to watch your tits bounce while you were riding him, he held onto your hips and kept you down if you tried to get off too soon… what he didn’t do was hit you with little witty remarks like that one, and totally throw you off your game. Guess he didn’t get quite as stupid for pussy as you thought.

“You look cute,” you noticed, “fucking your toy for me. You usually fuck it faster, don’t you? You don’t like to take your time with it or anything?”

“I usually just wanna come,” he replied, “as fast as possible.”

The thought of him so pent up, fucking his fleshlight as he moaned your name, was… exciting, to say the least. You wondered if he ever did this while his uncle was home, across the trailer sleeping— did he have to bite his fist to keep quiet? That was extra exciting. “Do you wanna come now?” you asked.

“Not like this,” he pleaded, “not— not in the toy, when you’re right there…”

“Yeah, I’m right here,” you grinned, “but what if I wanna see—”

He didn’t even let you finish. “Fuck, don’t make me come in the toy, please,” he begged. “You like how I fuck you, right? I’ll do whatever you like, baby, please…”

That would be a tempting offer if it wasn’t always true. You simply picked up the pace again, making sure to push the toy all the way down to the base of him each time; he whined and gripped the sofa tighter.

“You can touch me instead, if you want,” you offered with a purr. “You can feel my tits— go ahead, Eddie, I’ll lift my shirt up for you—”

“No,” he choked out. There he goes, surprising you again…

“No?”

“No, I’ll come,” he clarified with a grunt. “If I feel your tits right now, if I even see them, I’ll fucking come— and I don’t wanna come in the toy, I wanna fuck you so bad, please baby—!”

“Shh, don’t get all worked up,” you smiled, “I’m gonna let you come in me, Eddie. Is that what you want?”

“Yes!” he shouted, “fuck yes— thank you…”

Oh, that thank you, it tugged at your heart more than you expected. “You just gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

You smiled proudly. “I want you to fuck me the way you fuck that toy when I’m not here, okay?”

Pulling the fleshlight off of his cock, you watched it bob in the air helplessly for a second.

“I’m your toy now,” you told him, and he instantly launched forward to capture you in a kiss.

“You’re so much more than that,” he mumbled against your lips after a moment of it, and you resisted the urge to melt into his arms. He kissed you harder, deeper, needier— and just about when you expected him to pull you onto his lap, he stood up instead. “Hold onto the back of the couch,” he ordered. Well, you weren’t one to say no to that.

When you were bent over on your knees, holding the couch diligently, he yanked your shorts and underwear down and instantly speared you onto his cock. “Fuck!” you shouted, toes curling from the stretch— yes, you were dripping wet, but he was still a lot to take.

“So much better,” he sighed, “fuck, you’re perfect.”

He grabbed your hips and set a ruthless pace— fast and rough, filling you to the brim every time. This must be the way he fucks the toy, desperate to come above all else… and you loved it. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, even though the force of his thrusts made you feel like the wind was getting knocked out of you. He moved one hand up from your hips to your shoulder, keeping you from getting too far away so he could go as deep as possible; your eyes rolled back in your head. “Eddie,” you sobbed.

“Louder,” he demanded.

“Eddie!”

“Fuck, that’s it,” he sighed, “want everyone to hear you… they can all hear you, baby, keep going.”

And you did, screaming his name like you’d forgotten every other word— which wasn’t too far from the truth. You realized, then, that he really didn’t want you to be his toy. He just wanted you to be his.

“I’m close,” he groaned, so quiet it was hard to hear him over your own cries, “I’m gonna come inside you…”

“Come in me,” you encouraged, “come for me, Eddie— I’m yours.”

You said it because it was true, not because you knew it was what he wanted to hear. But, it still made him come in an instant. He held onto your hips and keeled over as he buried himself deep, giving you every drop and making you feel so beautifully full. He kept coming for a while, and you hummed happily as he started to catch his breath. “Fuck,” he panted, resting his forehead on the back of your shoulder, “I came too fast, I-I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay, I wanted you to,” you promised.

“But you didn’t,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed, “that’s another thing toys can’t do.”

“And that’s another reason why you’re so much better,” he replied, reaching down under you to slip his hand between your legs. His fingers started to gently circle your clit, just below where he was still inside you. You whined, and you heard him growl as you tensed up inside. “See, that— the way you grip me… I wanna feel you come, baby, do you think you still can?”

If anything, your problem was just going to be how easy it was— you’d gotten way too close from just a minute of being fucked like that, it was embarrassing. Well, it should’ve been embarrassing. But you weren’t as self-conscious about it as you thought you would be.

His fingers found a pattern, not too much pressure but still plenty, as they rubbed circles on your bud. You kept whimpering, trying to rock your hips back onto him, but he held you still to keep you from moving too much on his sensitive cock. “Just stay still, I’m gonna make you come, okay?” he breathed.

It was all about you, you weren’t really used to that. Actually, you weren’t at all used to that. Nobody had ever taken the time to make sure you came… even Eddie just usually made it happen on accident.

“Oh god,” you heard yourself gasp— you were fighting it, though you weren’t sure why.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s my girl.”

Yours. You came with a gasp of his name, your back arching deeper as he kissed along the line of your shoulder. He kept showering you in praise, letting you ride it out before he gently pulled you down to lay with him on the couch— careful never to let his cock slip out, keeping you full and warm as you started to relax.

It took you a minute to come back to reality, and you squeezed his hand at the end of where his arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that, Eddie?” you smiled.

“What does that mean?” he chuckled.

Really, though, it wasn’t just that he managed to surprise you from time to time. It was the way that he made you surprise yourself. Maybe not all guys were the same, and maybe he was right: maybe you were so much more than what they thought you were.

#eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson smut

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monodreamin · 6 months

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Rated: M (18+)

Genre: smut, fluff, one shot

Synopsis: after a bad break up you meet a handsome man in a dog park.

Warnings: one ass smack, protected sex, cute nicknames and penetrative sex.

Words: 3,049

Author’s note: I wanted to write something more soft and with autumn vibes. I just haven’t written in so long and wanted to put this out before winter. I mean it hasn’t snowed for me yet so I don't count it as winter yet lmao.

It was a cold crisp early autumn morning and you were walking your dog Jax, a Shiba Inu breed. Your ex boyfriend got you while on a trip to Japan. Your ex boyfriend left you with the dog he was yours anyway. The break up was a nasty one with your ex boyfriend. Ever made time with you he was either busy with work or hanging out with his loser friends you disliked so much.

Things weren’t always like this you once both loved each other very much after dating for 2 years decided to love in and build a life together you always wanted a dog so on a business trip to Japan your boyfriend got you Jax for your birthday you cried holding the small puppy in your arms the best birthday gift ever.

Let’s be real, you felt like shit your boyfriend came over last night to pick up his stuff. He was moving in with his best friend, the one you hated because he was so far up your boyfriend’s ass honestly he should have dated him instead.

When you and your ex boyfriend would get into heated fights and he was anywhere nearby he was always picking a side and it was always his best friends of course even when he couldn’t be anymore wrong that was the bro code shit these men spoke of because it just didn’t make any sense to you.

You were holding Jax's red leash as you entered the dog park. You could hear the fall leaves underneath your shoes crunch as you walked on the leaves that have fallen from the trees.

You had a hand holding a hot coffee while the other held your dog’s leash tightly when suddenly a small black dog a mini pinscher breed it jumped on top of your dog and it scared you a bit not knowing if they were playing or not you were paying to much attention to the two dogs in front of you that your hot coffee spilled all over your jeans.

“FUCK” you yelled out feeling the coffeee seep through your pants burning your thigh. “I’m so sorry, is everything ok?” You heard a deep Aussie accent and as you looked up you saw the most beautiful man you ever came across.

“Let me help you, I'm so sorry about that.” He rushed over with a stack of napkins handing them to you. You pressed the napkins to your thigh on the wet spot but your eyes never left his.

“Lori come here” he lifted the dog up in his arms. Something about a man with a dog since your ex boyfriend wasn’t a dog person he just got you the dog because he thought it would keep you company and leave him be with his friends.

“It’s ok I just got burned a bit by the coffee but I’ll be ok.” He opened his mouth in a gasp.

“That is not ok let me make it up to you I’ll get you a coffee. I’ll also get Lori here a new leash here since hers snapped.

You watched the man be all lovey woth hos dog and it warned your heart instantly. “I can come with you if you don’t mind Jax here needs a new bowl.”

“Really? Well then let’s head over there now if you don’t mind”

“So I know your dog’s name Lori and you know my dog Jax bit that is your name? My name is YN by the way.”

“My name is Christian I usually don’t let my dog loose I’m a responsible pet owner I promise but her leash unexpectedly broke and well she’s a playful dog and so when she saw the only other dog at the dog park she got a bit excited.”

“I see that it’s ok really.” You self consciously put a strand of your hair over your ear.

“Well I’m a bit glad things happened the way they did I mean minus the hot coffee spilling on you.”

“So to the pet store then to the cafe to get my coffee? You owe me.” You joked.

“I’m a man of my word YN.” The both of you walked out the dog park making your way to the pet store.

Christian looked through the dog leashes and decided on a black one you could see him testing out its strength.

“I’m sure you’re good with that one.” You teased walking toward another aisle full of all types of pet bowls they had: stainless steel, ceramic, plastic, double bowls, elevated dog bowls the list went on and on.

“Having a hard time picking one?” It was now Christian’s turn to tease you.

“Well it’s much harder than picking from leashes I’ll tell you that.”

“Ppft I digress.” Christian picked up a stainless steel double bowl and walked to the counter.

You followed behind him “you needed a bowl too?”

“No, since I saw you having a difficult time I picked one.”

“That was nice of you thanks.”

You both walk out and this time Lori is on her leash. Christian is still holding the brown paper bag with the bowl in it.

“So the next stop is the cafe?”

“Yes the cafe it is but let’s do outdoor seating since we have the dogs with us.”

“I mean that makes a lot of sense to me.” Christian smiles.

The both of you walk two blocks down from the pet store and there is the cafe.

“Two… or should I say an outdoor table for four since we have our furry friends.” Christian says and we are seated by an older woman outside.

“Are you ready to order?” The cute older lady says.

“One iced americano and….” He looks at you for your order.

“Hot coffee light and sweet three sugars please.”

“Ok and I’ll bring some treats for the furry friends too.” The lady leaves.

“She’s nice.” You say.

“I feel like dog people are usually nice people.” Christian looks under the table at the two dogs who are lying peacefully on the ground.

“I think we tired them out today.” Christians head pops back up from underneath the table.

“I mean we walked everywhere maybe that’s why.”

“So tell me about yourself, where do you work? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“ I work in marketing and no I don't. I had one but not anymore. You?”

“ I work in the arts so painting and sculptures mostly. I don’t have a girlfriend I haven’t in a year.”

“Oh that sounds so cool and why not? You’re very good looking and with that accent I’m sure you have no problems.”

Christian laughs when the older lady returns this time with a tray and two drinks she places the drinks on the table and gives the dogs treats.

“Enjoy the drinks, anything else I can get you?”

“No, we're done for now thank you so much .” You say. You both are sipping from your hot drinks.

“When you truly love someone and have your heart broken it takes time to heal.” Christian continues the conversation.

“I get it well I just got out of a serious relationship “

The both of you continue to talk about life and other things. You looked at your phone and you have been at the cafe for an hour now.

“I should get going now, you know shower from the coffee that spilled on me earlier.”

“Let’s exchange phone numbers.” So the both of you did and you were on your way “I’ll walk you home if you don’t mind” Christian still held on to the paper bag he was such a gentleman.

You and Christian walk along with your dogs. “Ok well this is me right here thank you for walking with me.” You say as you stand in front of your apartment building.

“Let’s stay in touch.” He simply says and with that Lori leads the way. You watch him for a bit then head upstairs to your apartment with Jax.

When you reach your apartment you use the key to open your door to your surprise you see your ex boyfriend on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” You were highly annoyed by his presence.

“I got the last of my stuff and to return the key.”

“Ok well thanks I won’t live here long anyway.”

“Why not? And where were you?” Why did he care about you and what you were doing? He just needed to be on his way.

Jax stood in front of you very protectively.

“What does it matter to you? We aren’t even dating anymore.”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“You have no right to ask me that it’s none of your business.” You raised your voice and Jax started to bark at him.

How dare this man be back at your apartment without a heads up and he had the nerve to be jealous when you broke up with him 2 weeks ago.

“If you aren’t seeing someone it would be a simple question to answer but you can’t because you’re with someone else already I know it just tell me.”

“You are sick and twisted, you know that? It is none of your concern what I do, who I say or who I don’t see now, get out of my apartment right now.”

Jax barks got louder and your ex boyfriend got up from the couch throwing the key over your head. What a dick and he just reassured you that breaking up with him was the right thing to do. You wouldn’t ever go back to that.

A month has passed since your break with your ex boyfriend and you had been texting Christian daily. It was cute flirty texts and getting to know each other better. Mostly you haven’t seen each other since the cafe date your break up felt so fresh you couldn’t move on just yet.

You have been looking for new apartments because you thought moving from this old space you shared with your ex boyfriend would help in the moving on process. You reached out to a few realtors on some properties and waited for them to contact you for a viewing.

You were getting ready for bed when Christian texted you again. You smiled as you read his text. He couldn't wait to see you tomorrow you replied and put your phone on the nightstand smiling to yourself you couldn’t wait to spend time with him again soon.

You went to sleep and were awakened in the morning by your alarm clock. You hit the stop button getting up from your bed and you start to get ready for work where you will be counting down the minutes for when you’ll see Christian again. The day hasn’t even begun and you knew you would be dreading it.

You finished your work for the day but acted as if you were busy with someone before you were given an extra task you didn’t want not today you had plans and you were excited for those plans you kept looking at the time hoping it would pass faster.

It was 5:30 PM and you were clocking out. You had to rush to the train to get home to shower and get dressed for your… well not date you didn’t know what it was you and Christian haven’t discussed that yet and you both were just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you would make out but before it got too intense, always stop yourself. You weren’t fully healed from your breakup and it didn’t feel right to have sex with another man in the apartment you once shared.

Lucky you the train pulled up on the platform as soon as you finished climbing the stairs. You got on the train and saw a seat so you sat down. Today was your lucky day. Indeed, you checked your phone to see Christian had sent you a photo of him at his art studio. The man was gorgeous. He was so focused on his sculpture donning black frames to get a better look of his work.

You almost missed your stop because you were too enthralled with the photo. You grabbed your purse and rushed out before the doors could close. You had 3 blocks to walk before you were home to get ready and you were speed walking. You had a lot to do and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You reach your building and let out a sigh of relief time to get pretty, you thought to yourself. You laid your clothes on the bed and stepped in the shower. You knew exactly what makeup and hair style you wanted. You got out the shower in your towel and started to prepare for… whatever this is.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror making sure everything was looking right then headed quickly out the door. You met up with Christian at the bowling alley and then after had sushi for dinner. You weren’t talkative and Christian seem to pick up on it.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, popping some sushi into his mouth.

“I’m sorry I’m so quiet, I'm just in my mind too much.”

“We’ll talk to me, what's on your mind right now darling?”

Your heart thumped harder at the nickname.

“Well…” you blushed, picking at your California roll with the chopsticks.

“Are you not into the date?”

There it goes he said it a date this is a date all your worries and headache went away with one simple word date you smiled

“No, I love it and thanks for the date.” You drank the rest of the sake and started to eat and become more engaged with Christian now that he put your worries at ease.

The date was done and you both had a great time and decided to head back to your place. Jax eagerly greeted Christian since they have become very much acquainted.

“Hey Jax, did you miss Y/N? I’m sorry I kept her from you but she’s here now.”

Jax jumped on your lap and you started to scratch his head. The both of you sat on the couch talking and taking turns petting Jax. After a while Jax was asleep and you put him on the couch next to you.

“I bet Lori misses you too.”

“My mom is taking care of her now.”

“Really why?”

“I’m leaving this weekend I have an art show. I was wondering if you would like to attend with me?”

“Of course I’m sure my mom won’t mind dog sitting for me.”

Christian leaned over kissing you unexpectedly but you reacted by kissing him back. The both of you were all each other on the sofa.

“Let’s take this to my bedroom.” You said leading the way. The both of you went straight to the bed clothes were being removed and thrown on the floor.

The both of you were naked and you laid in the middle of the bed Christian’s hands caressing your body. Something caught Christian’s eyes on your nightstand and you quickly knew what it was your vibrator that you had used earlier in the day you forgot to put it away.

“Oh babe I see you were having fun without me.” He grabbed the vibrator turning it on.

“I think I’ll have more fun with you now.” You spread your legs giving him access to you. Christian smirked as he pressed the vibrator over your clit.

“Is that ok?” He moved the vibrator in a circular motion.

“Put it higher.” You bit your lip watching him work the vibrator on you.

“I think you need more than a vibrator.” He said and you looked down at him and saw his erected cock.

“You’re right about that I’m tired of my hands and vibrator.”

“Well I can be of some assistance to you.” Christian got his pants from the floor and went in his pants pockets pulling out a condom.

“I know you can.” You watched as he put the condom on then picked up the vibrator again placing it back on your clit this time with higher speed.

You moaned at the high speed vibrating perfectly against your clit. Soon after Christian entered you slowly as he kept the vibrator pressed against you , the sensation of him in you stretching his walls and the vibrator would have you cumming in no time.

“That feels so good Christian oh my God.” You threw your head back moaning louder. Christian picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours as he put the vibrator on the highest speed.

Your body felt like an explosion of sensation, a wave of relaxation and peace taking over your entire body shortly after. You couldn’t believe how quickly you orgasmed . I mean he was hot and extremely talented in bed. You have been deprived by a man for so long your body responded quickly to his.

“Darling I know you didn’t cum that quick did you?” A very cocky grin played on his lips.

“I’m I’m I’m so sorry I…. I…” you sounded like a broken toy repeated itself.

“Oh no it’s ok I’m not done with you just yet babe. Now lay face down for me.” You did as you were told and he smacked your ass. Your legs were straight and hips slightly raised off the bed. Christian entered you from behind. He felt bigger than before in this position.

Christian stroked deeper in you as he nibbled on your ear then softly bit your shoulder and proceeded to your neck.

The passion filled through your veins as his pace quickened. Your pussy pulsating in his cock adding even more pleasure you both were close to reaching your high.

“Fuck I need to get on the pill again so you can fuck me raw.” You looked back at him as you both reached your climax and he pulled the condom out tying it up and threw it in the trash can.

“Well luckily you are my girlfriend now and we have a lot more time to do more of that on our trip.” He grabbed your face kissing your lips and you both cuddled on the bed.

#christian yu one shot #christian yu smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #christian yu x reader #dpr ian one shot #dpr Ian smut

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politemenacephd · 4 months

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Monster!Miguel Vol. 2 (+18)

Ghoul!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader Tokyo Ghoul/ATSV Crossover

Masterlist

CW: Blood, Mentions of cannibalism, reader has a vagina.

Content: Established relationship, Oral (reader recieving), Tentacle play, Tentacle penetration, Multiple orgasms, PinV sex, Biting/Consensual blood drinking. Notes: This was my first request! I really hope i did this right, I haven't watched TG in like. over a decade lmao so I did my best, enjoy

‘You can eat me.’

In your bedroom, in the dark, those words hung heavy in the air. They seemed to reverberate long after they’d been said. You swallowed hard and repeated them: ‘You can eat me.’

There was no light in here, spare the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering in through your half-done blinds, and from the safety of your mattress you watched as that cold, white light illuminated the contours of the man sitting at the end of your bed. That muscled creature with the red eyes.

You saw something snaking in the shadows at his back. You heard it slithering.

You should have been terrified, but you weren’t. In fact, your dynamic was strangely flipped. You were calm, collected, while the man before you was anything but. He was the one who looked terrified.

‘No, no’ he repeated. His voice was low.

‘It’s okay’ you repeated. ‘I understand. I understand.’

‘No!’

He raised his voice but immediately doubled over, almost as if some invisible force had punched him in the gut. You could see the pain he was in. The way he kept wincing, even in this dull light. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. It was that migraine, the start of the feeding frenzy.

You’d been seeing Miguel in secret for some time now, enough that you’d seen this many times before. Every time he’d found a way to stave it off. Blood bags, donated organs, forcing himself to eat that synthetic flesh. Now, though, he was in trouble. He had nowhere else to go.

He needed to eat, and you knew that he could only consume one thing: humans. Your blood, your flesh, your bones, anything you made would do, but it had to be that. It had to be you.

And it could be, because despite your fear, you loved him. You wanted him to survive.

‘If you don’t eat, you’ll do something you regret’ you insisted.

‘Not you’ he repeated.

‘Why not me?’

Your soft platitudes turned to a choke as you saw the man before you reared up to his full glory. His eyes were ringed with black, the red pupils the only clear light. That bloody glow reflected off of every contour on his upper body. You saw the strength, the scars, the sheer size. You saw the faint glimmer of a fang in his mouth as he sneered.

The slithering at his back suddenly settled, and in the dim light you could now see what it was. Eight, slippery, blood-red tendrils, four on each side of his back, long and sharp like a spider’s legs. He suddenly dug them down into the floor on either side of the bed, and with unnerving ease he used them to lift his body.

He reared up and lifted himself onto the bed, his body fully eclipsing yours as he lay across you. You whimpered and flattered yourself to the sheets. His breath hit your cheek; it was hot, and smelled strangely metallic.

‘You know I want to, right?’ he murmured. You felt his breath move from your face to your neck, right over the jugular. When you swallowed his lips could feel your throat moving.

‘I want to—taste you.’

His voice was hoarse and husky. He sounded parched.

‘I know’ you whispered.

‘I think about it, all the time’ he insisted, his hunger clear. You saw the moonlight glinting off of the drool dripping down his jaw. ‘You must be- delicious.’

You shuddered as he licked your neck, one clean move from collar to jaw. His tongue was unnervingly sharp compared to a human, almost cat-like in texture, but the spit he left on your skin was warm and soothing.

A car drove past outside, briefly highlighting the ecstasy on his face. You watched through the haze of neon pink light as he licked his bottom lip. He opened his mouth, and you closed your eyes.

‘But if I ate you, what would be the point?’

Slowly, you re-opened your eyes again. He hadn’t moved. Miguel was looking down with a dreamy gaze, his upper arms shaking as his kagune whipped violently at his back.

‘That would be it. The high point of my life. You would be gone, and I’d never get to taste you again’ he whined. ‘I can’t waste you.’

‘Do it slowly then’ you whispered.

‘You are not—helping’ he rasped. He sucked in air through his teeth as he fought the urge to just sink down on your soft little neck, feeling the sweet, warm taste fill his mouth.

‘Just… okay, what about something small?’ you asked. That certainly seemed to draw him back, as his eyes darted across your body and face.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can—give you something small.’ You pointed to your wrist, your foot, whatever you could think of in the moment. ‘I can… give you something small, to tide you over.’

Your unending loyalty to him almost brought him to his knees.

He was wracked with that insatiable lust. How could he possibly turn it down? How could he fight the urge to have you so permanently?

The love of a predator for its prey. The need to consume you in every possible sense. Your tears, your words, your blood, your bones, to be inside you and to have you inside him. How beautiful. How honest. How vile.

‘Perhaps, just—a little, blood, could… No. No. First, I want to, try something’ he said gently.

You nodded, eager to do anything to soothe that pain. ‘Yes. Yes, of course, do you—’

‘Take your panties off.’

You froze, still vulnerable on your back with his body planking over your own. You looked up into those ferocious eyes and felt your mouth moving, though no sound came out.

‘W-What?’

‘Take your panties off’ he repeated in that husky voice, ‘take them off, and lie down for me. No moving. If I get too excited, I could—’

‘I know’ you murmured. ‘I-I know the drill.’

Until now you’d only even engaged physically in small ways to avoid setting him off. Using hands, fingers, sparing kisses to stave off the heat. But, he’d never seen you naked before.

Shyly you stripped your panties down. In your bed you were wearing only an oversized shirt and them to cover yourself, so as soon as they were gone you almost fully bare. You felt tingles as the cold air hit you; you were, embarrassingly, already a little wet.

Miguel bobbed his head, gesturing for you to lie down. You did as told.

‘Stay, still’ he repeated. You felt your body tense.

With painful deliberation Miguel used his clawed hands to split your legs apart, fully spreading you before his eager eyes. You couldn’t help it; a whimper escaped your lips. He seemed to enjoy it.

You watched him tilt his head, admiring the barely visible view.

And then, slowly, his head went down. You watched his mouth and nose disappear as he lowered them to your spread sex, his hands still gripped tight to your thighs to keep them apart. You felt just the faintest flicker of fear then.

Miguel lay himself down until he was comfortable. He breathed you in with unabashed perversion, letting your scent fill his sinuses, before coyly opening his mouth. His lips parted and his tongue crept out, and after a moment of hesitation, it brushed your clit.

You jolted violently the moment you felt him. He had to pin you down to stop you moving.

‘Shh, shh. Still’ he barked. He didn’t want the temptation to go further. You panted as you lay back, forcing yourself to be as still as you could. His tongue went back and you bit your lip.

It was so hard to stay put. His tongue was so wet but so rough, and you were incredibly sensitive. You had to lie in absolute stillness as his tongue wound its way through your folds, as his lips kissed and sucked on your clit, as he dared to even push it up inside you.

You felt the cold when he moved, leaving behind his wet little trails of spit. You felt yourself pulsing with fear and excitement.

It didn’t take long for him to get what he wanted. You were inexperienced, and the soft stimulation was too much for your throbbing clit. All too soon you orgasmed in his grip, cumming hard on his tongue as he licked you out.

You stifled your own screams with your hand. You stifled the violent shudders your body was begging to release as it was rapturously filled with that white-hot pleasure, but Miguel wasn’t concerned with that anymore.

He put his tongue inside you as you came, and he licked. He licked up everything he could.

He was after your slick, your taste. He was playing with his food. Like a cat with a mouse in his paws, he let you squirm.

But, it was helping. It was tiding him over. It wasn’t quite flesh but it was sating some of his obsessive hunger. It tasted good. He lapped up your slick and felt that familiar joy at feeding, and even once you’d collapsed back into the sheets he continued.

He continued to lick. He pushed for one more taste.

‘Give me more—please—please—’

You jolted as one of his long, slippery kagune tentacles slithered down and between your legs, sliding under his wet jaw to probe at your cunt. You squirmed a little at the sensation; it wasn’t like anything you’d felt before, more like a tongue than an appendage, with its surface obscenely velvety and smooth.

With a wet squelch it slipped inside you, gently stretching you out. You cried out in shock.

‘More—’

With his long organ now pumping inside you he began to manipulate it against your g-spot, pushing and sliding and coiling until you squirmed. He pushed you until you squirted.

‘Ah—yes, yes—’

He greedily lapped up your slick with his tongue, his body practically shaking as it dripped down his lips and jaw. ‘Yes’ he repeated in a dreamy voice, ‘yes, yes.’

Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure, to the point that you had gone limp in his grip. All you could feel was the slippery conjoined heat of his tongue and kagune aggressively licking and nestling at your pussy, drawing out as much as they could.

‘Tastes so—good—’

One of his other eight kagune slipped up and under your shirt to cup your nipple, eager to stimulate you more. He needed you to gush. He needed you to fill his mouth.

You whimpered, your lips trembling as he held you down. You could feel it moving inside you, not just back and forth but swirling and shifting like a tongue, pushing in deep enough to kiss your cervix. You bucked your hips as it started to nestle in at every spot inside you.

‘Come on… come on…’ Miguel hissed. His tongue hit your clit right as his soft appendage squished at your g-spot, forcing you to cum and squirt for a second time.

He lapped at it desperately, even pulling his kagune out halfway just to lick that too. You whined at the sudden feeling of emptiness as it slid out and drooped, its red surface utterly saturated.

Miguel was fixated on it. The pearly strings dripping and hanging from it, the way it was pulsing softly against your hole as you clenching and twitched. He tasted every bit of it before burying himself back into the sweet nook of your clit.

‘So—delicious—‘

You weren’t sure how many times he forced you to cum for him. It could have been six, or eight? Maybe even ten? You lost count.

He refused to let you go, keeping your body flat on its back and permanently filled with his softly pulsing organs, his weapons, now being used to gently fuck you into submission.

He was practically milking you for orgasms, like livestock in his hands.

You had promised to let him eat you, though. Really, what could you have expected.

‘A-Ah… aha—’ You were struggling to control yourself at this point. You were spasming slightly with each suck, and every time his tendrils wriggled inside you, you felt a little more lightheaded. You were overstimulated to the max.

He let you shudder into another orgasm with nought but a weak and shaky whimper, and at last he withdrew from your body. He licked what he could from your cunt and thighs and from his own appendage before moving back up to your head.

‘May I have your hand, please?’ he purred. You were too weak to raise your hand, but he saw it trembling and went to lift it himself. He held your wrist delicately up to his mouth, and with his fangs he gently pierced the skin between your thumb and finger.

You moaned as he started to suck on the cut he’d made, drawing out a small stream of blood to satiate the last of that hunger. Your eyes fluttered shut.

That was, until he tapped your thigh. You gasped and shuddered back into wakefulness, only to find that Miguel had stripped his own boxers down and was resting his hefty, erect cock on your thigh. His cold red eyes peered down at you in the dark.

‘Mmf…’

He gently started to grind on you, a silent plead for more affection. He wanted all of you.

Shakily, you nodded. ‘Y-Yes, yes. You can- You can have me’ you panted.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he shifted your hips. With your hand still in his mouth he positioned himself, and with his own copious spit as lube he started roughly thrusting his own thick cock inside your overstimulated cunt. You could feel it pulsing deep, desperately punching at your cervix.

‘A-Ah… M-Miguel’ you panted. He kept pumping, his eyes dreamy and soft, his lips now stained as he continued to suck what he could.

‘Mmf… Mmfff…’

Between the pleasure and the pain you were lost. You were so unbearably overstimulated, and after the soft dexterity of the kagune tendril it was quite the shock to now be penetrated by something so hard and firm. It pulsed the same, gently smearing you in his pre-cum as he fucked you raw. Somehow, that rhythmic pumping began to relax you once more.

With a moan you lay back, and you let him satiate his multi-layered hunger with your body.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #smut #monster human relationship #monster kink #tw blood #monster smut #miguel o'hara smut #+18 #miguel o'hara au

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tobybestupid · 5 months

Note

I need more of the terror twins smut lmao please

Like she somehow (idk how) manages to take them at the same time in the same hole?? Like them two timing her in her pussy, Y’know?

I’m so sorry about the request it will hit me soon enough about how strange it is, but I’m in a lack of terror twins smut that I don’t care at the moment :))

DVP🙀🙀 ofc my pookie.

Calm down, ey?

Terror Twins x Reader

Tw: DVP (double vaginal penetration), smut, praising/praising kink, Tommy being cocky, gentle sex, hair pulling, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it, PLEASE.)

It started when Nikki noticed you were stressed out, he (of course) couldn't help but recommend sex.

You agreed, something gentle and to get your mind of things. Tommy was napping on the couch so it'd be okay, not like he'd have to know..right?

You're laying on top of Nikki's chest, he's gently thrusting in and out of you, causing soft whimpers to escape your mouth. Nikki wasn't huge like Tommy, he was average so it's not like his cock was stretching you out like Tommy's always did when you and him fucked.

You whimpered softly and nuzzled your head into Nikki's neck, beginning to suck and kiss and his skin gently. He grunted and groaned as he contuied to thrust his hips upwards, just a little rougher.

Then, suddenly the door creaked open, Tommy was still really tired and groggy.

"Cuddle..oh—" He looked at the two of you, Nikki didn't stop but you looked up to look at Tommy.

"Can I join..?" He mumbled tiredly, already getting onto the bed and kicking his pants off.

"If you're gonna get blown, no. Don't want your fucking balls in my face" Nikki grumbled, continuing his pace in and out of you.

"I'll just get her from behind— you'd like that huh baby?" Tommy slapped your ass gently causing you to jerk upwards and moan.

"Yes- yes, I'd like it-" You whimpered out, watching Tommy take off his boxers, his cock was still somewhat soft.

"Nikki wears that lube?" Tommy mumbled.

"You shouldn't need any shes pretty wet aren't ya' Hun?" Nikki kissed your cheek as you began to somewhat bounce on his cock, his hands sliding down to your hips.

"Yeah, okay. Sure, maybe if my fucking shlong was as small as your's" Tommy laughed at his own joke.

"Be nice Tommy" You told him as he walked over to you two with a bottle of lube, he was gently jerking himself off.

"Yeah yeah, why don't you lay back down onto Nikki's chest huh? Much easier position" Tommy grabbed a handful of you ass, making you moan and doing what you were told, laying into Nikki's chest.

Tommy put a generous amount on lube onto his hand and rubbed it onto you already wet cunt, the cold sensation made you shiver.

"Good there babe?" Nikki asked as he began rubbing you back meanwhile Tommy slipped into you, causing a moan to slip out of your mouth.

Tommy put some more lube for Nikki to enter, Nikki was slow. He slowly rubbed his tip against your cunt, making you whine for him. He slowly pushed himself into your warm cunt, you held onto his shoulders tightly at the stretch.

"Too much?" Tommy asked, quickly looking at you as you shook your head.

"Fuh-fuck..just, really big.." You mumbled, Tommy slowly began thrusting in and out you causing you to moan quietly.

Nikki quickly began to do the same, he was groaning quietly. You felt a pair of hands grab onto your hips, another onto your ass.

You felt yourself get tighter, Tommy moved of his hand from your hips, quickly finding your clit are rubbing gently. You whimpered and moaned at you became tight around the two, Tommy quickly quickened up his pace on him rubbing your clit.

"Good girl huh? Doin' so good and taking these cocks sooo well huh?" Tommy whispered into your ear, rubbing your clit even quickly as you grabbed onto Nikki's hair and tugged gently, you were (at this point) a moaning mess because of the two.

"C'mon good girl, cum for us huh?" Tommy mumbled to you as Nikki quickened up his pace, and so did Tommy.

You let out a loud moan and your legs shook as you came around the two, Tommy quickly came after you, grabbing your hips and pushing himself deeper inside of you as he came. Nikki did the same, both of their cum dripped out of you as they pulled out of you.

"Fuhhckkk.." Nikki breathlessly mumbled out, all three of you were panting and..sweaty.

"Tommy you smell icky- did you put deodorant on?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Nope"

#x reader #80s rock #mick mars #nikki sixx #mötley crüe #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars x reader #tommy lee x reader #vince neil x reader #nikki sixx x reader #terror twins x reader

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fatuifucker · 1 year

Note

ah ok! then can my trans scara request be in the catboy au pls? maybe for one of the camshows proposed by mr. zhongli :3 👉👈

soft dom trans! camboy! catboy! scaramouche x sub trans! fem-sex reader (he/him and masculine pronouns used for reader, no mention of breasts but mention of pussy)

WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader + scara receiving), toys (vibrator + double-ended dildo + nipple clamps + buttplug + leash), livestreaming, role reversal, praise, pet play, use of "master" + "kitty" as pet names, use of word "cunt"

W/C = 1.2k

A/N = uhhhh i forgot how to write dom scara tbh LMAO also been wanting to write about double dildos for a while, don't really see a lot of content fot it hehe shoutout to @child-of-plut0 for watching my stream as i wrote this

TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @ember-is-clueless, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @edenialucas, @voidkinnie

Senses deprived. Blinded by black silk over your eyes. Body exposed. Cold all over, yet so hot, hot, hot down there. It’s inflaming, engulfing. You should be ashamed but you’re not. In fact, you’re ecstatic. Other than the buzzing of the vibrator stuffed inside you, the only sound that fills the silent space is the familiar, silvery voice of one of your catboys.

“Today’s a special occasion, so I wanted to try something fun,” you hear a chuckle, followed by a click. “Hehe, yes, these all look interesting, don’t they?”

You tune out most of the conversation, every word he speaks to the audience a bleary fog to the oversaturating exhilaration that floods your body and brain. Left gasping for air, your moans serve as music for the viewers; hundreds of them all watching you writhe, tied to the bed as you await for Scaramouche’s touch.

“Let’s see…the double-ended dildo? Hehehe, an excellent choice.”

There’s shuffling, and you heave when the pleasure comes to a halt. More shuffling, followed by the warmth of hands, and the constricting binds around your wrists are finally lifted. Another warm touch — this time, his lips — presses against your temple as Scaramouche sits you up, the bells on your collar and nipples jingling with the movement

“Can you still go on? Or do you need a rest?” he whispers in your ear. Despite the abrasive tone, there’s a hint of concern under it — one you have come to associate with the headstrong catboy you know and love.

You nod. “Yes, I’m—”

He tugs on the leash attached to your collar, cutting you off. His breath tickles your ear, the low, domineering timbre making you quiver. “Need I remind you of my order? How are you supposed to refer to me?”

“Y-yes, Master,” you gulp.

A role reversal. That was what you consented to. To be filmed for one of his camshows, and to be his pet.

His catboy.

Even if you are blindfolded, you can practically see the evident smirk on his face. “Good boy.”

Your chest palpitates at the pet name. The chat must have said something humorous, for you feel Scara’s chest rumble as he laughs. Carefully, he slips the vibrator out of your hole, while you stifle back a whine at the emptiness. He hushes you, digits tracing your labia as it picks up some of your essence. It appears he’s lathering something with your fluids. You don’t get to ponder over it for long before he makes his next demand.

“Spread your legs. Put one of them up like this.” He helps you into his desired position, on the account that your sense of sight is severely restricted. There’s the shifting of sheets, and then something wet touches the outer lining of your pussy. “Move with me.”

You share twin whimpers as Scara pushes the dildo inside you, at the same time the other side enters him. He lets out a shaky moan as he starts grinding, with you following suit. Your hole clenches around the rubbery dildo, tensing up when you slide against the ribbed edges. It’s intimate, sharing a cock with your mated one. To watch your catboys doing this live is thrilling. To experience it yourself is an entirely different thing.

“That’s it, just like that,” he rasps. “Faster…faster!”

Your thighs burn but fuck do you care when it feels so damn good. Faster, faster, faster. You need to please Scara. You need to please your Master. You need to be a good catboy for him. He seems to have noticed your renewed enthusiasm for he reaches out and strokes you behind your fake cat ears.

“Good boy, good boy,” he purrs. “My good little catboy.”

Synchronised in this hypnotic rhythm, your hips move in tandem; chasing, chasing, chasing after this riveting gratification. You’re lost in this blind lust, lost in a void of darkness, but he guides you by taking your hand in his, providing you with stability and keeping you grounded. In truth, he’s doing his duty as your supposed master. He’s firm and controlling, but not in a bad way. Maybe he gets it from your example, which gives you a bit of relief.

“Mm…hm? You want us to change positions?” Scara mumbles lazily, stopping his movements. “Ugh, fine, how’s this?”

Scara lets go of you. He adjusts his body, manoeuvring you with him so that you’re laid on your back, with him above you. From inference, you guess your ass is positioned in front of the camera. Perhaps to give the audience a view of the cat tail plug lodged in your asshole. Hot air brushes against your neck and then— he plunges into the other end of the dildo in a single motion, his pussy slapping against yours in a wet smack. Scara furiously pounds himself against the dildo, slamming against your dewy cunt with every turn until you’re left speechless, nothing but moans spilling out of your weary lips. His teeth clings onto every expanse of skin you offer to him, leaving marks on your neck, collarbone, chest; everywhere. For once, he seems to have forgotten about the camera, the viewers, the livestream. His focus is on you, on your pleasure, for your attention to be on him, him and only him.

“Mmm you’re doing so good kitty…so, so good for me,” he growls, sandpaper tongue swiping up the sweat stuck to your neck. “Such a good boy…”

The bells on your nipple clamps jingle as he sucks on the buds. He doesn’t care that the audience can’t see, you would have to lecture him on it later, he just wants to make you feel good. To see your reactions, to know that you want him.

Every slam, every collision of his pussy against yours makes you throb, walls clinching onto the rubbery dick as if sucking on it to keep your sanity. The brief friction of his clit against yours makes your cunt pulse, and you swear you have forgotten how to breathe when all the blood rushes to your head and the rapid thumping of your heart reverberates through your skull.

“Fuck, fuck— I’m close too, argh, shit shit shit shit!”

“Oh god, Master, Master! I’m so close, I’m close, I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum—” you cry.

Scara mewls as the both of you reach your peak, sharp nails digging into your shoulders as his body twitches, hole contracting and expanding around the cock. His thighs tremble as he nearly collapses on you, barely holding himself up with his arms. You immediately notice, wrapping your arms around his back to support him. He shows his appreciation by licking your face, purring as you pet his soft ears. If you weren’t blindfolded, you would have seen the comments cooing at his tail, swishing back and forth in contentment. He suddenly recalls that he is streaming, and gets off you to look through the comments, slightly wincing at the sensitivity.

“You wish you could see our faces? Too bad, bleeeeh!” Scara sneers, and you know with absolute certainty that he’s sticking out his tongue in mockery.

“Mochi, behave,” you scold him, finding satisfaction in the squeal he makes when you tug on his tail.

“Hey! You can’t do that to your master!”

“Really? Weren’t you the one who said that cat hybrids have a right to discipline their masters when they…what’s the word you used? ‘Are being a little brat’ was it?” you tease.

“Bratty?! I’m bratty?! You—”

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche x reader smut #genshin wanderer x reader smut #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader smut #genshin wanderer smut #catboy scaramouche #kunikuzushi #male reader #trans scaramouche

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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

DRIPPIN'

pairing: boyfriend!haechan x inexperienced!fem!reader x haechan’s best friends!mark, jeno, jaemin

genre: smut, pwp, non-idol au, established relationship (with haechan) | requested

summary: you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

warnings: smut, fivesome (here we go again lmao), unprotected sex, dubcon bc of corruption kink and innocence kink, minor (unconscious) exhibitionism, voyeurism, thighs riding, fingering, (at first) non-con (then) consensual filming but with a bit of manipulation so dubcon filming, oral sex (m and f), loss of virginity, pet names, praise kink, nipple sucking, spanking, anal (f), c*m play (like a lot), dacryphilia, double penetration, minor pain kink, subspace, too many orgasms, overstimulation, jaemin is nasty, jeno bites, mark and haechan seem normal but they aren’t either | if i missed something lmk

word count: 18.211k (of smut, nothing else, just smut)

a/n: big sigh, this was a challenge on so many levels, from the innocence kink to the fact that it’s my first (and probably last lmao) long-length fic written in second person and present tense. It probably takes more to flow compared to my usual stuff because I didn’t want it to be too overwhelming at the start (wanted to keep as consensual as possible) but I hope when it kicks in, it flows well. I also hope it’s what the person that requested wanted. I know I say it every time, but I seriously think this is the filthiest thing I ever wrote. Please, please, let me know what you think about it, especially if you read my old stuff because this is such a new thing for me and it would mean a lot to know if it’s as good as the rest or if should stick to the old way. Enjoy!!♡

You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel a weird sensation in your body. It’s... funny, that’s how you would describe it, apart from feeling hotter, and more sensitive at the slightest touch.

You don’t think you’re sick or something, it’s not the first time that this happened and it’s not painful, just annoying. And the worst of it all is that you don’t know how to take care of it.

An irrational part of you is telling you to talk to your boyfriend, Haechan. But another feels that it’s wrong. It’s like a prude part of your brain is screaming to keep it to yourself.

And yes, it had happened before but it never felt like this, it never lasted this long. It had been two days that you feel... You feel... Needy? Clingy? Whiny?

It feels pathetic, and you only hope that whatever it is, it will pass fast.

“Oh,” you exclaim when you enter the living room and see your boyfriend’s best friends sit on one of the two couches. “I didn’t know you were coming.” You walk toward them and see their eyes linger on you longer than usual. “Oh, I was going to bed. That’s why the pj’s,” you chuckle, totally not getting that their gazes weren’t judging ones but horny, something you couldn’t know. You couldn’t even get it when your boyfriend looked at you like this, so how could you do it with his friends?

“Babe.” Haechan’s voice makes you turn around and smile at him softly. “My bad, it was kinda a last-minute thing.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, shivering when his hand rests on your middle and rubs circles against the thin fabric of your camisole. Your eyes trail there, feeling your skin burn and you start to wonder if maybe you have a fever or something. “Beer and game night?” You force yourself to bring your attention back to them, smiling at the other three men as if nothing is going on.

“Actually, no alcohol, we have to drive home,” Mark replies, gulping after he drifts his eyes away from your hard nipples. You’re not wearing a bra and they are rock hard under the thin layer covering your beautiful body and he knows is not due to the cold because the temperature in the room is normal. It even starts feeling hot the more he looks at you.

“Well, have fun then,” you say, eyes wrinkling as you beam at them. “I’ll just go back to our bedroom —”

“No, come on, babe,” Haechan says, pulling you close to him. “Stay with us. You wanted cuddles before, didn’t you?" He coos, making you lower your head to hide how flustered you look. Yes, you did ask for it, hoping it would ease some of your pain, but it’s so embarrassing in front of his friends.

“It’s because I had a rough week,” you justify to them. You always fear what you look like in their eyes. You have a feeling that they don’t even like you that much because you are quite different from Haechan’s exes or the girls they surround themselves with. You kind of envy them for being so confident and not so affectionate. Thinking the way you act makes you look dumb in their eyes.

“It’s fine, no judgment here,” Jeno reassures, winking at you... And why do you find that attractive?

You mentally slap yourself before letting Haechan drag you on his lap. One of your favorite cuddling positions; facing him, resting your head on his shoulder, and enjoying his hands rubbing your back. You’d like to listen to their talks, or discussions on what game they want to play or if it was better to watch a movie, but your mind is somewhere else.

You feel off and euphoric at the same time, mind dizzy, disconnected from your rational part, guiding your body without you even knowing. You blame it on the way Haechan is touching you, smooth hands pressing harder than usual on your skin, and occasionally going lower on your half-exposed ass. You don’t think much about it, too lost in the sensation, and almost sleepy while your left cheek rests against his shoulder.

You don’t know that on the other side of the room, your boyfriend’s best friends’ eyes are boring holes into you, trying to play it cool, to don’t get caught by him while they stare at your skin, and think of how soft and pretty —and spankable— your ass looks as it starts grinding against him, trying not to drool like horny dogs.

“Hyuck,” you whine when you feel your body get hotter. “I think I have a fever.”

Your boyfriend hums, bringing his attention to you that are now looking at him after pulling away from his body.

“A fever?” He asks, raising a hand to touch your forehead. “Babe, you’re fine.”

You want to retort and say that you don’t feel fine, but you guess he wants to spend some time with his friends and you’re already getting too much in the way. Maybe you should just go to your bedroom and sleep, it was going to pass, it had to pass.

So you clear your throat and move away from Haechan. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, waving at his friends before leaning in to kiss him, shorts rising up more, giving a perfect view of your asscheeks. And the other three have to suppress a groan and look away.

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend checks in again, fingers grazing the back of your hand in gentle circles.

“Yeah, I don’t feel,” you stop, not wanting to worry him. “I don’t feel like staying up.”

“Kay, goodnight, babe,” he greets back, smiling at you, watching you disappear into the bedroom.

You think it will pass. You hope it will. After minutes that feel like hours, you start to pray it will go away. But the more you try to fight it, the strongest it gets. You feel it between your legs, but the more you squeeze them, the more it grows. The more you rub it away the worst it gets.

So you huff loudly, move the blankets off your body and go out again.

“Oh, you’re still here,” you gasp when you see that his friends are still at home. And you don’t know what to do anymore. You really don’t want to ruin his fun, but you feel like you’re going insane and you don’t why you can’t control it. All the other times it went and passed but now it’s like your senses are enhanced.

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice is worried, and he’s looking at you with apprehension.

“’M fine,” you mumble, running to him, playing nervously with the hem of your camisole.

“Want some water?” Jaemin asks, seeing how flustered you look and you nod, small steps to walk to him and grab the glass he’s offering you.

“Slow, honey,” he chuckles when you gulp it eagerly and a droplet of water drips down your chin to your chest, making you whimper at the contrast between the cold water and your burning skin. “Don’t be messy,” he whispers, licking his lips, eyes telling you to do the exact opposite because he’s loving this shaken side of you.

“Thanks,” you breathe, handing him the empty glass and drying your lips with your thumb. You see Jeno shift in his place and growl lowly but you don’t think on it for long. And in a second you’re turned back to your boyfriend. You’re so close to them that Mark is really tempted to pull you on his lap and fuck you. But you slip out of their hold, running to your boyfriend before his fucked up thoughts can come to life.

“Can’t sleep, can I sit on your lap?”

Haechan hums, spreading his legs to make space for you, expecting you to give him his back but you sit just like you were before. And when you moan when your lower part brush against his body, he gets what’s going on.

It had been days since you were needier than usual, oversensitive in a way you usually aren’t. He’s the perverted one that always touches you and teases you, making you shy while you push him away because it feels wrong. He’s the one that makes jokes you don’t get, only widening your eyes and mouth when you realize he’s hinting at something he shouldn’t be talking about so freely and casually.

But you, God, you are the sweetest, most innocent person he has ever met, and it drives him crazy. He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t fantasize about ruining you, dragging every single piece of innocence and naivety from your brain and turning you into his nasty, horny girl, but he can’t help it. He wants you to be addicted to his lips, his fingers, his cock, every part of him.

But, as much as he’d like to ruin you, he promised himself he was going to wait for you, wait till a small part of your prude shield falls apart and lets him in, and now, you are serving it on a silver plate.

He tries to keep his attention on his friends, nodding at whatever Mark is saying and grinning when Jaemin argues back. But then you start rocking your hips on him and all his sanity is gone.

What the fuck are you doing? And in front of his friends?

He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t get a boner for the fact that you’re so turned on that you’re trying to get off in front of everybody without even knowing.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But he forgot the line between wrong and right a long time ago when it comes to you.

So he grips your hips tighter and for some unknown reason, that gets you even more.

You bite your lips and press more against him, feeling… something hard?

You blink hazily, sitting straight to face him with a confused expression but your hips are still grinding against him, slower than before, but the movement is perceptible enough to drag other three pairs of eyes there.

“Hyuck…?” You ask, voice barely higher than a whisper and hands wrapped around his shoulders when you feel it move. “What — what is that?”

“What, baby?” He fakes innocence, wanting you to break it, to slip into that world you kept your distance from for so long.

“Why… why is it hard? Is it you? Or is it the remote?”

You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, guessing it comes from Jaemin, and you’re about to turn around when Haechan cups your face and makes you turn to him. His hold is slightly rougher than his usual touch but you don’t mind, it surprises you, but it doesn’t scare you.

“It’s me, baby,” he coos, smiling. You raise a brow when you see his lips curl in a smirk, a cocky grin that usually paints his face when he wants to prove something, or when he wins, whether it’s a game or an argument. So you don’t truly get why he has it on his face now. You don’t get that you are the game he wants to win.

You don’t expect him to kiss you, hard and intensively, wrapping one hand behind your neck and pushing your waist toward him with the other. You expect even less to don’t pull away, and so do the others that are looking at the scene. You are the shy one that pulls away at the slightest peck on the cheek in front of his friends so what has taken over you now?

They don’t know. And they know they shouldn’t care but the thoughts that have been crossing their minds for half of the night were already so fucked up that they surely weren’t going to stop now. You teased them without even knowing. You teased them in front of your boyfriend. And fuck, that was fucked up, but they had no intention to stop. In the end, it was going to be a silly fantasy they were taking home, slumping on their beds alone and jacking off thinking of you in those skimpy pink clothes, making sure Haechan wasn’t going to ever find out about it and then act like usual in front of you.

“Hyuck,” you moan his name when he pulls back from the kiss, and his hardness rubs against you. “Wait,” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. “I — I feel weird. It — it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts, baby?” He purrs, stopping his movement, smiling when you nod.

“It’s been hurting all day, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Where does it hurt, pretty?” He asks and your hands trail down your body, shyly touching your core. “Here.”

Haechan kisses your pout away before his fingers replace yours and he pushes against your sensitive clit. You moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Yeah, there,” you cry. “Hurt so much, Hyuck. I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“Want me to make it go away?” He asks, hand cupping your ass and squeezing tight.

Jeno’s eyes go wide as he stares at you in utter shock. “Wait… are you doing this now? In front of us?” He chuckles to water down the awkwardness and the excitement and you turn around confused.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, big sorry eyes locking into his, dark and intense, staring right into you. He makes you shiver as you fear he’s mad at you for ruining their night, so you justify yourself again, “I’ve been holding it all night, but I can’t keep it anymore. I don’t want to ruin your fun, I swear I tried to make it stop but I won’t, it won —”

“Shh,” your boyfriend shushes you with a kiss. Eyeing the other three that are starting with their mouths open.

You truly don’t know anything.

“It’s fine, you didn’t ruin our night,” he whispers, caressing your hip. “We’ll help you.”

“We?” Mark’s voice comes out strangled and even if you can’t see him, you know his eyes are wide open.

Your boyfriend chuckles, smiling at his friends before he grins at you. “She looks really in pain. I’m sure she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Haechan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jeno replies, a nervous edge in his voice.

“They — they don’t want to, it’s fine,” you say, voice huffing when his thigh flexes under your hot core. “If you tell me how, I can, I can take care of this alone.”

Haechan thinks you’re so cute, so close at your breaking point and yet still trying to keep it together. “No, honey, you can’t. I’ll help you.”

“But they —”

“If they don’t want to participate, it’s fine. But I’m sure they won’t mind watching. But they can always leave.”

At this point you don’t care, so you hum and wait for his next move.

“Did it feel better when you grind on me?”

“When I did this?” You ask, starting to rock your hips back and forth, hearing a groan come from behind you, but not being able to make out which one of the three is.

“Yes,” Haechan replies, voice coming out raspy and lower than normal.

“Am I hurting you?” The innocence in your voice and your eyes and in the way your hands are caressing his shoulders so delicately makes him groan and curse internally as he’d only wish to turn you over and fuck you deep and hard into the couch, not caring much if you can take it that hard or not. But he doesn’t, he has been patient for months, he can wait some minutes.

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth and that makes you stop, tilting your head to the side as you study his contracted features.

“Are you sure? Why are you groaning?”

“It feels good, babe. It feels so fucking good.” He grins when your eyes shy away at the vulgar word. He was used to holding back in front of you, knowing you weren’t really fond of swearing, but tonight he is going to have so much fun. “Do you feel good?”

You nod swiftly. Feeling a warm sensation spread in your body the more you move against him. And you feel… wet? You want to ask what it is but it’s like the words can’t form in your brain. Not only you don’t feel pain anymore, but you feel good. Better than ever before. And you feel… high. It’s almost as if your body is running after something bigger, stronger, and more intense.

“Hyuck,” you call out crying when you feel your stomach twist and your pussy clench before a rush invades your body and makes your body tremble against him before you still, nails digging into his covered shoulders and jaw clenching. You stay like that for a while, chest panting and head thrown back while your eyes are closed and you try to understand why you felt so many emotions there. You know body parts, you know what it was meant for, but you never thought it could feel good. And why? You aren’t going to have babies, right? The doubt slips into the back of your mind, though.

“Feel better?” Haechan asks and you’re brought back to earth.

You bite your lips, feeling shy when your body screams at you that it’s not enough.

“A bit,” you reply lowly, looking down at his lap, seeing how hard he is.

He snorts and then looks at the other three rolling his eyes. They swiftly look around the room, covering their boners the best they can. “Fucking fake prigs I can see your cocks twitch from here,” he mocks, making their eyes snap on him. “So, what are you going to do? Sit there and watch? Leave? Or do you wanna share and fuck around?”

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he means by that. But he ignores you, too busy staring at his friends, waiting for an answer as his feet tap on the floor.

“Fuck it.” The first one to stand up is Jaemin, reaching you in a few seconds with big steps. If Haechan was willing to share you, he wasn’t going to say no. Virgin and inexperienced, it surely couldn’t have been worse than his hands and his memory of you.

“Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it,” you mumble when you feel Jaemin’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you away from your boyfriend.

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” He asks, tone gentle, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face. You’re so lost in how kind he looks your brain almost stops panicking and you only nod. Well, now you feel better, or that was what you thought, but it seems like the tingly sensation it’s creeping up your bones again. “We just want to help you feel good. Do you trust us?”

You gulp when he sits you on the couch next to Haechan and when your eyes drift off him, you see Jeno and Mark stand over you too.

You’re confused. A part of your brain is telling you that you should also probably be scared of what’s about to come but you pay it no mind. You’re burning up. You need something but you don’t know what it is. So how bad can it be that they are helping you with that? Also, you trust Haechan, he would never let them do something you don’t want.

“Will I feel better?” You ask, looking at Haechan that is already smiling at you.

“Like you never felt before,” he replies, caressing your cheek with two fingers, shivers running down your spine because it’s like you sense a shift in him —and everybody in the room.

“O-okay,” your voice is low, but your body relaxes under his soft touch on your exposed thigh. You don’t expect him to kneel between your legs and part them open. You wait for the next move in silence and see their hungry eyes staring at you.

You look so pure; pastel pink shorts wrapping around your soft thighs, the top laying softly on your upper body, flustered expression, eyes filled with curiosity, apprehension and lust. And when Haechan pulls them down, he reveals white panties, stained with wetness, highlighting even more the outlines of your pussy.

There’s only one thought that crosses their minds.

They can’t wait to ruin you.

But you don’t see it, you’re still pretty unaware of what’s going to happen, how are they going to fix your aching pain between your legs. So that’s why you’re so shocked about what Haechan does next.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen and your legs clump together when he pushes your panties down your legs.

“Trying to make you feel better,” he smirks as if it’s obvious.

“You’re — you’re undressing me,” you mumble, feeling too ashamed to meet the others’ eyes, but you can still feel them on your skin. The air of the room seems so cold when it hits against your hot, wet skin and you feel so small and exposed because they are all standing around you, tall and broad, fully dressed and in control.

“If you want to feel good, we have to see you.” You’re waiting for Haechan to answer but the voice that fills the silence in the room is Jeno’s.

Your eyes skim to him, gulping when you meet his gaze. You feel like a prey. And he’s starving. They all are.

“But — but you’re not my boyfriends, isn’t this… wrong?” You ask, an instinct telling you that whatever is about to happen shouldn’t be happening like this, not with his friends. It should be only you and your boyfriend. Now you might be innocent but you know being naked is an intimate thing, you barely showed yourself to him after months of dating; the only time he got to see your naked form was after he spent hours convincing you to take a shower together and you gave him your back for half of the time.

“Is it wrong if it makes you feel good?” Mark asks, smiling at you.

You ponder on it. Will this make you feel good? You are sure it will, if it’s anything close to what you felt before it can’t be different, but you still feel like it shouldn’t happen.

“Let’s ask your body, babe,” Haechan brings your attention to him again, spreading your legs and planting your right foot on the couch seat so they can have a perfect view of your cunt.

You hide your face behind your hands, feeling too exposed, but Jaemin sits beside you and moves them away.

“Don’t hide, pretty,” he purrs, nose nuzzling against your cheek, making you chuckle lowly. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Fuck,” you hear Mark moan when Haechan spreads your pussy lips apart, cold air hitting your core, making you moan. “She’s dripping.”

You want to ask what he means by that, but your boyfriend’s fingers hitting a sensitive spot makes you quiver. Your head rolls back and your eyes fall shut.

You hear muffled chuckles, but you don’t pay them much attention.

“Look at him,” Jaemin whispers, encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stare right between your legs, you find it wrong and slightly humiliating, but you do as he says. He’s there to make you feel better, so he knows what he’s doing.

“What is this…” you whimper when Haechan’s fingers touch the substance that is dripping out of your pussy, smearing it around, sticky and cold, making you squirm at the weird sensation.

“This?” He says, lifting his fingers up after collecting it, two digits scissoring in the air, a white and transparent string connecting them. You nod, not expecting him to do what comes next. “This is how excited you are for us.” He brings his fingers in his mouth and you don’t know why, but something about it feels wrong and your legs close in shame immediately, but Jaemin parts them open.

“No hiding, remember? You’re so pretty, why would you hide this from us?” He coos, bringing one of his hands where Haechan was before.

You’re about to complain, once again feeling like he shouldn’t be the one doing that, but Haechan doesn’t say anything, and you can’t complain when he starts moving his fingers on you. Shocks of pleasure spreading through your body as he starts moving them so nicely.

“Like it, bunny?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s not even watching where his fingers are, playing with you with his eyes closed as if he’s been doing it for ages. “Like it when I play with your clit?”

The temperature of your body spikes up at his words. You may not know how good you can feel but you’re pretty good at anatomy, yeah, even that anatomy, no matter how embarrassing you found it, but this surely wasn’t for scientific purposes so, of course, your skin burns up and your legs are about to close again.

This time is Mark the one that stops you, sitting on the other side of the couch and keeping your leg still.

“You didn’t answer,” Jaemin reminds you, voice lower and sterner.

“Yeah, it feels good,” you breathe out. Your breath shakes when he teases your entrance, the tip of his fingers pushing just against the opening but without sliding in.

“Oh, bunny. You must like me a lot,” he chuckles, collecting more wetness and spreading it on your thigh.

Your eyes look for Haechan, trying to get if it’s a bad sign, if he’s mad because you’re enjoying somebody else’s touch so much, but he’s lost, eyes staring right into your core and on his friend’s finger, and you shouldn’t feel so pulled toward him but something in the way he’s looking at you, well, your pussy, makes you feel even hotter.

By now you got where this is going, it’s about sex. That’s where all your problems are coming from. But you don’t know what to do. And you typically don’t like not having control over things.

“I — I’ve never done this before,” you blabber out, making them laugh.

“We know,” Jeno replies. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.”

“Is it — is it bad?”

“Bad?” Jaemin grins, starting to move his fingers faster. “That’s the funny part.”

You look at him with confused, yet curious eyes, and he winks at you.

“Want his fingers?” Haechan asks, nervously shaking his leg because this is dragging too long and he just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, he had waited long enough, and now he has to have you.

“Like… inside?” You dare to ask and Mark laughs, “so, you know something about sex.”

“I — I,” you stutter, but the words die in your brain. You heard your friends talk about it, it was something along the lines of ‘taking care of themselves,’ and ‘he’s so good I couldn’t walk for a day,’ but you never indulged in those kinds of talks. Sex just felt too dirty and wrong for you, so you always avoided it. But maybe now you would’ve found those talks useful, maybe if you sat and listened just one time, you would’ve taken care of this yourself instead of ending up here, spread open, dripping wet, in front of your boyfriend and his friends. Not that you mind, but you’re not really sure you can take whatever is about to come.

“Dude, it’s a miracle she knows how to call what she has between her legs,” Jaemin retorts and you glare at him.

“Hey! I know how to call it.”

He smirks, quickening the pace on you, your lower lip getting trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans.

“Say it,” he orders, looking straight into your eyes, they look oddly soft for the way he’s talking to you and moving his fingers on your sensitive bud. But that’s what’s pushing you to the limit again, his contrasts.

Still, it’s hard to swallow and let the word slip out of your mouth, and when you do, when the word ‘pussy’ falls from your lips, you’d rather be swallowed by the floor.

“Good girl,” Jaemin praises you and you have no idea of the effect those two words have on you until the same pleasure of before hits you unexpectedly.

“And we’re down to two, she won’t last longer, you know,” Jeno says, looking at you with an amused expression, giggling at the way you’re so confused about what he’s talking about. “You came, baby,” he clears your doubt. “Just like before when you were grinding on him like your life depended on it. You had an orgasm.”

“Ruining all the fun?” Jaemin huffs, glaring at him.

The black-haired rolls his eyes. “She already had two, I’m not ruining anything.”

“Can you stop?” Haechan stops them, getting up, towering over you. “I won’t let you come close to her if you keep bickering over bullshits.”

You don’t say a word, but your body tingles seeing this side of your boyfriend. Haechan is one that knows what he wants but you’ve never seen him like this, so dominant, so in control. It’s hot, and it makes you wetter.

Haechan would love to eat you out, he’s been dreaming about it since you first started dating, and your cunt glistening is basically inviting him, but he’s leaving that for later, maybe even to somebody else of them, knowing how disgusting his friends are, they wouldn’t flinch at going down on you with a mix of their cum dripping out of you. He has all his life with you to eat your pussy and leave you like a trembling mess, and even if you don’t know, he’s going to make sure to do that.

“Want to help me with my pain, baby?” He asks and you frown.

“You said you weren’t in pain?”

“Oh, I’m not in pain when you’re paying attention to me, but you left me all hard and throbbing for you,” he pouts, shuffling with his pants and pushing them down his smooth, toned legs. Your eyes wander on them before something bigger catches your eyes. No, it’s not your first time seeing him, but the first time you barely paid attention to it and you’re more than sure it wasn’t that big.

“You… you are in pain there?” You ask, briefly looking between his legs, pointing with a shy finger, before meeting his warm, brown eyes.

He nods, taking a step back. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation.

“Damn, she’s obedient,” Mark notices with a small smirk on his face and something about it makes your heart swell with pride.

“Does it hurt because it’s hard?”

Haechan smiles, caressing your cheek, fighting the urge to stuff your mouth full and turn you into a crying mess, but it’s hard when you’re looking at him like that, big eyes and a genuinely concerned pout on your lips.

“Kinda,” he replies. “I’m so hard because of you. We are hard because of you.” You turn around, looking at them but they’re all completely dressed up and that hits you, you’re so exposed while they’re not, and… “This is the effect you have on us.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Why do I bring you pain?”

“You don’t bring us pain,” he chuckles, thumb caressing your lower lip, “not if you take care of it.”

“Do you want to take care of us?” Jeno asks, making you look at him.

You nod eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I want to be good. Want to make you feel good just like Nana did with me.”

Haechan smiles before moving closer to you, holding the base of his cock in his hands. “I’ll guide you, okay? If anything makes you uncomfortable just tap my thighs and I’ll stop.”

You nod, anticipation bubbling into you. Fear long gone as this feels all new and exciting. And your competitiveness kicks in when you remind yourself that the others are watching. You want to be good. You want to make them want you even more. You want to prove to them you can be as good as them.

“Touch it,” he says and your hand hesitantly moves to wrap around it, you follow his action and wrap around his base before he orders you to move up and down. It feels weird. It’s heavy and hard, so damn hard a small part of you is jumping with pride because you are the cause of that.

You don’t know what comes over you but you lean in, tongue sticking out to lick his tip, dripping something salty and white.

They gasp and you pull away immediately, taken aback.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your eyes are apologetically looking at all of them as if you’re also doing something to them.

“No, no,” Mark replies, voice clipped and face…red?

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he cuts you off and you don’t focus on him when Haechan clears his throat and you turn to him.

“Can you take it all in your mouth?”

Your eyes widen. All of it?

“Sure,” you reply, swallowing your fear, pretending that you know exactly what you’re doing but you don’t know a thing. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even fear you’re going to get burned.

You knit your brows when he pushes into your open mouth, it’s heavy on your tongue and big, so big you don’t know how you’re going to take it all since he’s not even halfway in and you’re already gagging. Has your gag reflex always been so terrible?

“Oh, poor baby,” you hear Jaemin’s voice come from beside you, you guess he’s standing next to you now, but you don’t move your eyes to check, trying to concentrate on the big cock your boyfriend was trying to make you take. “Is it too much for you?”

It is.

But you’re too proud to give it to him. So you shake your head, a terrible mistake that makes Haechan slip into you more and you gag on it.

They all laugh and you look up at Donghyuck trying to look menacing but you only look funny like that, cute, his cute little baby always, but funny.

“Maybe, Nana is right,” he says, caressing your cheek, finding it endearing how you’re still holding him in, ignoring the way some spit is already dripping out of the corner of your mouth. And he didn’t start moving yet. “Maybe you can’t take it.”

You cough when he pulls out, spit trickling down your chin but the thought of wiping it off doesn’t even cross your mind. You want to prove a point, make them proud.

“I can, I can take it,” you squeak, shifting on your knees, the hard floor starting to burn on your skin. “Please, give me another chance, I just need to get used to it,” you say before lowering your voice and eyes. “It’s big.”

They’d like to tease you more at how shy you are, mocking you to repeat it, this time looking at his eyes and saying that word, but they all leave it as a thought. Because if it might not be too much for you — it is — but it’s definitely getting too much for them.

None of them is known for being patient, maybe Jeno, when he’s in the right mood. But they all move like beasts, eager to get more, and fast, and this is taking way too long. It’s hot, but none of them is used to ease people into sex, nobody else they ever fucked with would take so much to jump on their cock and come out of there looking like a mess. But you on the other hand…

“We’ll try one last time, baby,” Haechan coos, “but if you disappoint me, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want it, right?”

You shake your head. You have no idea what kind of punishment he’s talking about, but you don’t even want to find out. You will make him feel good.

Haechan groans and throws his head back when you take all his length inside, trying to ignore the way the fat tip of his cock is pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You think that could turn him off, but apparently, the more you struggle, the happier he gets. And the same thing applies to the lewd sounds, you find them disgusting and embarrassing even, but the four men around you don’t feel the same.

It’s hot seeing you put so much effort into something so lewd, innocently doing your best to make him feel good, staining your purity with squelching sounds, muffled moans and bobbing head. Your pretty pink camisole still covering your upper body, staining with spit and pre-cum dripping out your messy first blowjob.

It’s not even the kind that Haechan loves the most, he might be eager but he’s rather neat — unlike somebody else — but he doesn’t care right now, he can’t, not even if usually, the feeling of so much drool spilling down his balls would make him cringe, right now it’s making him even harder.

And after all, you will learn.

They were all sure that by the end of the night they would’ve turned you into a completely different person. Addicted to their cocks and sex.

And you are on the right road they want you to follow because as dirty as it feels, as much the piercing gaze of these men and their groans and dirty words makes you want to hide, they are once again igniting a spark inside of you.

Your thighs clench and you knit your brows when you feel your clit throb and your pussy clench around nothing, an embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of you. How much do you like them?

You think they don’t catch on it, too busy with the way your lips wrap around your boyfriend’s cock and your lashes flutter, looking up at him.

But Mark sees the way you act. He has been studying you for a while, going crazy at the way you never realize how hot you are. He hates to admit it but he has fantasized about you a lot. You were rather physical with him because he seems so nice and sweet and, after all, he is Haechan’s best friend, so you never hesitated to be all over him when your boyfriend wasn’t around, hugging him longer than you did with others, even daring to kiss him on the cheeks when you greeted each other, and you weirdly loved his hands.

So, he was going to give you a taste of it because he wanted to see your innocent façade fall apart.

You almost choke more around Hyuck’s dick when you feel a hand between your legs and a body press against your back.

“Hi, babe.” Mark’s voice hits your lobe and your ass press back against him, silently, and shamelessly, asking him to help you. “Are you in pain again?”

You nod, try to, considering Haechan now has grabbed a fistful of your hair and is guiding you on his cock with more force.

Mark only laughs, he doesn’t ask if you want his fingers, if you’re ready to take his fingers, eventually, you’ll have to get used to it, right? And your body seems more than ready anyway. And as expected, it’s not that hard to slip a finger inside you, your tight walls relaxing around him and welcoming in with ease even if it’s your first time.

Your head falls back, pulling away from Haechan’s firm hold and spluttering when your mouth is finally empty again.

“Fuck,” Jaemin moans, and then brings one hand on your face, you expect him to wipe the mess away, but instead he smears it around your face, making you gasp and blink in surprise. “What, bunny?” He snickers, a mocking smirk on his lips. “You look so pretty like this, like a painting.”

You can’t see yourself, so you seek reassurance from your boyfriend that is looking at you with a tender — wicked — smile. “He’s right, you’re so pretty like this.”

You don’t reply, a bit because you can do nothing but accept it and a bit because when Mark pushes a second finger inside, it feels too much.

“Mark, oh… wow,” you whimper, head falling to stare between your legs how his hand is pressing against your clit and his wrist is moving to guide the movements inside of you.

“Oh, wow?” Jeno chuckles, mocking you. “Do you ever swear?”

You stammer, head snapping at him in surprise. He scares you because you can’t read him. He had barely touched you or teased you and you don’t know what to expect, he seems sweet, but is he? Are they? You don’t have time to dwell on them or their kindness because Haechan grabs your hair again, tugging at it harshly enough to make you groan in pain.

You look at him asking for an explanation, but he just pushes his cock inside your mouth. He doesn’t have the patience to teach you with words anymore, he will throw you straight into the practice ground, hoping you will make it out alive.

“I told you I don’t want to be disappointed,” he groans, hips moving with a steady, fast rhythm, now truly not caring if you can take it or not. “You were doing so good, baby, keep taking my cock. Show me how much love me. You love me, right?”

You hum around him and you get that it must feel good because his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten around your hair. So you do it again, this time not to answer him, but you guess the sounds coming out of your lips are caused by Mark’s fingers inside you.

Your eyes snap in panic toward Jaemin when you see him pick up his phone and as soon as Haechan frees your mouth you ask, “What — what are you doing?”

“Filming you,” he smiles. A sweet, toothy smile that hides the grin in his eyes and the way the sight of you, teary eyes, ruined mascara starting to pool under your eyes, spit streaked chin and cheeks as the saliva dries on your beautiful skin, is making his cock rock hard.

“But — but why?”

“Because you need to learn, remember?” Surely, not because he was going to watch this over and over again and imagine you were kneeling between his legs letting him facefuck you. He would never do that. “You can watch this over and over again and get better with time.”

“Oh,” you whisper. That makes sense. “But no one else will see this, right?”

Jaemin shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, and laughing when your eyelids fall close at the gentle touch and a sweet whimper rolls out of your lips. “No one, bunny.”

Your eyes look for Haechan’s consent again and when he smiles at you, your lips fall open again. When he starts moving inside you again it feels more comfortable than before, slowly getting used to the intrusion and his strength, and surely Mark’s fingers inside you are making the whole thing more enjoyable too.

More moans vibrate around his length as the two digits inside you curl and brush against a spot that makes your toes curl and your breath shorten. You don’t know what Mark is doing, but he’s so good at it because you know you never felt like this before.

You want to warn them that you feel the same sensation build up in your stomach again, but you can’t, Haechan has no intention to pull out of you when he’s so close, and the orgasm hits so good, you wouldn’t say a thing even if your mouth was free.

You think Haechan is going to let go of you but instead, he pushes deeper into your mouth, making you gasp for air through your nose, pressing your face so far that your nose nuzzles against the fuzzy layer of hair over his cock, and you almost choke when something warm and salty fills your throat. When he lets go of you, you gasp and are about to spit it on the floor when your boyfriend grabs your head and pulls you back by your hair.

“Swallow it,” his voice is unexpectedly deep and stern and it’s enough to make you obey him with no hesitation, no matter how wrong and dirty it all feels. “Good girl.” You don’t know what’s kicking in your brain but the way he’s demanding and then sweet as he praises you, it’s making your head spin and want more.

“What — what is — what was that?” You ask, squeezing your eyes, blinking some tears away.

Haechan grins, kneeling at your level to kiss you. It’s soft, like the usual kiss he gives you when you cuddle in your bedroom, and it feels… romantic. As if there aren’t three hungry gazes staring into you, imagining the worst things to do to you.

“That’s my cum, baby. Just like the one that is dripping out of you now.”

Your eyes wander away from his, too shy and conscious about the mess between your legs.

“It’s… it’s because you like me a lot?”

He nods, “And because you’ve been such a good girl sucking my cock.”

The vulgar words hit your core, and you expect to shy away but somehow, they make your pussy clench around nothing again.

Is your body seeking more? Are they going to give it to you?

“My knees burn,” you whisper, expecting Haechan to do something but you jolt in surprise when Jeno walks toward you and lifts you up.

“Should we finish this in the bedroom?” He’s holding you in his arms, roughly hoisting you on his shoulder as if you are a ragdoll but he’s talking to Haechan. You get flustered because your ass is literally next to his face and you flinch when he bites down on the soft, plump skin.

“No, the bedroom, no,” you cry. And they quirk a brow, looking between you and Haechan.

“Bedroom,” your boyfriend orders and Jeno swiftly walks toward the room.

“Jeno, no,” you cry uselessly, and when he opens the door, you want to die.

“Oh,” he whispers, smirking when he eyes the bed.

“So that’s what you didn’t want us to see?” This time is Jaemin mocking you, you get it by now that he looks sweet and gentle but under that façade hides a monster.

“Your teddy bear?” Mark asks amused, staring at the toy laying in the middle of the bed, between crumpled-up sheets. You really tried to make it go away alone, didn’t you?

“It hurt too much, I didn’t know what to do.” You confess even if they weren’t thinking at that, except Mark, of course. So they are even more surprised when they see a patch of the teddy bear slightly stained with your cum.

“Oh, poor baby,” Jeno coos, laying you on the bed with no care at all. “Your pussy was begging for so much attention you just had to fuck yourself on your plushie.”

Now that was too dirty for you to take. You had no idea you were doing that, it was just your habit to hug the toy with your legs and when you felt that the friction felt good your body started moving alone.

“I didn’t know,” you defend.

Jeno snickers, “I’m starting to think you’re playing a character. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you want to make us believe.”

“No — no, I swear, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it was bad.”

“It’s not bad,” Mark chimes in. “It’s never bad if it makes you feel good.”

You’d argue with that, if it was another occasion, if you weren’t spread open with Jeno between your legs, fingers playing again with your sensitive clit, and teasing your glistening entrance.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, starting to hate how his fingertips are only brushing over your sensitive skin and not bringing you any pleasure.

“Damn, already addicted to it?” Haechan mocks you and you don’t expect that comment to come from him. He had been nothing but nice with you tonight, apart from when he was shoving his cock into your mouth.

“It feels good,” you mumble, hiding your face with your hands but Jaemin groans and pulls your hands apart.

“I think we should keep these busy,” he says before winking at Mark. Your eyes widen when they both get rid of their clothes, cocks springing free, hard and thick, smeared with pre-cum at the tip. You can’t even look away because you are too amazed by them, and your gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the man at the end of the bed and the one on your left.

You only lift your gaze when Mark climbs on the bed and kneels next to your face, well, until then, because when his cock hovers over you, you can only keep your eyes there.

“Hey, you look at theirs with more love than you looked at mine,” Haechan scolds, now sitting next to Jeno that is still teasing your dripping cunt.

You apologize feebly, wanting to tell him that you were too shocked by his before to have a positive reaction to it.

“Are you going to punish me?”

Haechan snorts but shakes his head. “I’m going to make you feel good. Show you how good my cock will make you feel.”

“My mouth again?”

“No, baby,” he smiles. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when his hand palms your cunt, Jeno is sitting next to him, giving him space to fit perfectly between your bent open legs.

“Inside?” It comes out as dry as your throat while your brain tries to think how it could fit in you.

He clicks his tongue, “Where else?”

“But it’s… it’s never going to fit.” You say when he starts rubbing his cockhead against your folds, collecting the wetness.

“I promise you it will fit,” he reassures you, wrapping the hand that isn’t around the base of his cock on your hip and caressing gently, a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at you, hungry like a hunter that just got his prey after running after it for days. He’s drooling over you and he’s not sure he can promise you he’ll be gentle.

“Are — are you sure it will feel good?”

“Best you’ve ever felt,” he replies. “I promise, I’d never hurt you, you know.”

You gulp, looking at how big he is and then your tummy, thinking that it’s impossible for all that to slip into you and feel good. And then you meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way he never did and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

“Just the tip,” he whispers, looking into your eyes before he brings them back where your bodies are touching and sinks into you, pussy fluttering around his thick tip and already squeezing tight.

Your head rolls back and your jaw clenches as a gritted moan ripples through your throat. It’s nothing like Mark’s fingers. The stretch is triple it and even if it doesn’t hurt it still feels too much to take. You surely aren’t sure you could deal with it.

You’re about to protest, moving a hand between your bodies to stop him but he sinks into you without a warning, and the high, broken moan you let out shouldn’t turn him —them— on so much, but it does.

You only mumble senseless things, hiding your face between the pillow and Jaemin’s thigh, and they all wonder what will draw a curse out of your pretty, pure lips.

“Big,” you cry, as if saying it out loud will change the fact his cock is stretching you wide and reaching parts you didn’t even know you had until two seconds ago.

“You can take it,” Haechan reassures you, cooing against your ear as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I’ll take it slow, okay?” He has to try, he knows the others won’t take it easy on you, and he has to wreck you but not too much to the point you can’t take it anymore. He’s already scared you can barely take this, he wonders how you will go through more.

But it’s easier said than done and the slow pace of long and intense thrusts only lasts what it lasts.

“Hyuck,” your voice breaks, and tears start to form in your eyes when he picks up a rhythm you can’t keep up with, not that you’re doing anything, just laying there, half-naked, and looking over at the three men hovering you with lidded eyes.

You think you’re pitying them but completely different thoughts are running through their minds. Jaemin and Mark especially are having a ball seeing you like this, helpless and yet needy for more. You’re falling apart slowly, lips moving without emitting a sound as not even you know if you want him to stop or if you want more.

You’re so lost in the pleasure and thelittle discomfort that you forget for a moment Jeno is there too, and when his hand touches your thigh, you jump in surprise.

“It’s just me, angel,” he hums, smiling at you, and you nod, biting your lips to muffle the moans.

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin scolds you, slapping his cock against your lips to make you let go of them. “You will bleed.” He’s messing with you, playing you like a violin, fucking up with your brain more than he’s doing with your body. And yet, you fall for it, freeing your lower lip, not holding back anymore.

“Hyuck,” you cry again when he lifts your hips and slides deeper into you, “I can’t.”

“You can,” he groans back, holding your hips with more force and you’re sure your body will remind you of that hold for days. “You are taking me. Look at how good — fuck — you feel. Dripping, tight pussy sucking me in.”

Your mouth opens to complain, or to let out a moan, you’re not even sure anymore, but Jaemin shushes you. When the tip of his cock slaps your cheek you’re startled, meeting his gaze in surprise.

“Gimme your hand, bunny,” he purrs. And you don’t know why you find that petname so hot coming out of his lips, probably it’s the way he says it, the way his lips curl when he places it at the end of a sentence, so sweetly and yet with the intention of breaking you. You don’t know it, you can’t know it, but it’s like you sense it, and you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you.

So, you obediently give him his hand, soft fingers wrapping around yours before he brings your hand on his dick.

“See how hard I am for you? How much I like you?”

You nod, licking your lips, feeling your throat get dryer because Haechan is still fucking into you, pounding deep and hard and no, it doesn’t feel bad, but it’s too intense and you don’t know how to deal with so much pleasure. You feel like it’s getting to your head, like all your sanity is slowly being dragged out of you, your hold on control is growing thin and you don’t know what to do. You should panic, some sort of self-defense should tell you to run, but you don’t want to. You want to see how far this can go, how much more you can feel. Finally liberated to being pushed into a world you’ve been ignoring for so long, too long.

“Yeah?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing we’re so hard just from watching you.” He starts moving your hands on him and when Mark does the same after grabbing your other hand, you turn to him. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration, and he’s lost looking at your pretty, manicured hand and how it looks so beautiful on his hard girth. And he wonders how you can be so delicate and pure even now.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark whispers when he meets your glossy eyes. And you’d like to let yourself get lost in the compliment but with your boyfriend fucking you feverishly, slamming into you after pulling all the way out, creating disgusting, lewd sounds, you can’t think of anything else.

“So fucking good for me,” Haechan moans, throwing his head back and biting his lips, and through wet lashes, you can’t help but feel happy because you are making him feel this good. He looks even more beautiful than usual, almost as if he has a different glow radiating from him, and you like to think it’s because of you.

And probably that thought makes you convulse more under him as you come again, squeezing him tight, the movements on Jaemin and Mark’s cock, coming to a stop as the pleasure overtakes you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Jaemin grunts, slapping your cheek with his cock again. “Come on, be good and make us feel good. You’re not selfish, right?”

You shake your head, mind hazed by the pleasure that dims but doesn’t seem to stop.

“Good, be a good little play doll and make us feel good.”

“Open up,” Mark says, pushing his cock to your mouth. You think he’s going to do the same thing your boyfriend did before but you’re surprised when he only teases your mouth with his tip, and you’re even more surprised when Jaemin turns you around and does the same. They keep teasing you like this, and without them telling you, you eagerly start to suck on them, sucking more of their length in, cheeks hollowing as you shily try to do more to make them happy.

So you set your own pace, turning side to side with a pretty decent rhythm to suck Mark first and then pass on Jaemin. Blowing them with more strength every time that you hear their groans and moans grow bigger, you find that so exciting, and you think it’s a shame you can’t see their faces contorted in pleasure but sucking on them —united to your boyfriend’s cock — makes your eyes fall close in bliss.

And Haechan loses it completely, he pushes your legs up, pressing them against your chest, your eyes snapping open in surprise and because you can feel him even more.

“Hyuck, no,” you wail, tears dripping down your temples, drying in your hair.

“Shut up,” he retorts, leaning in, making his friends pull away, kissing you harshly, not caring that his friends’ cocks are so close to his face and were into your mouth just a few seconds ago. He needs you. “You feel so fucking good, babe. You’re making me so — fuck — so happy.”

You smile when he pulls away but once again Mark and Jaemin are on you.

You once again think he’s in pain, you think all of them are in pain, when your eyes shoot open and they have a frown on their faces.

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin whispers through gritted teeth, you don’t get why but you obey and you’re lucky for that because you feel hot liquid spurts on your face and chest and you gasp in surprise.

That’s the last thing it takes for Haechan to make him come. It’s fucking wrong but fuck, if you’re hot covered in cum, moaning as he stimulates you, chest falling and rising swiftly and nails digging into the sheets.

“Hyuck,” you cry when the warmth fills you up, coating you in white.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “So good.”

You feel a thumb clean something off your face, well, only off your eyes because you can feel the rest of it stick on your cheeks, lips, neck and probably even forehead.

When you open them again they’re smiling at you, as if what just happened is the most normal thing in the world. But you’re not any different from them. You feel thrilled. You need more.

“More,” you plead and their eyes sparkle up.

“Move.” You don’t expect Jeno to yank your boyfriend away and come between your legs.

“Hey,” Haechan warns, glaring at his friend. “She’s mine.”

“Don’t share her if you want her all to yourself,” he retorts before sinking down and cleaning your face from his friends’ cum. You were fucking hot like that he wasn’t going to lick any of it off of you. You eagerly kiss him back when his lips meet yours, but it doesn’t last long, he has other plans and he wants to make them happen as soon as possible. You are a fucking dream, but you’ve not come true, yet, and patience is not a gift God gave him.

“Jeno,” you yelp when he rips your camisole off of you.

“Not my fault they weren’t eager to see your boobs,” he smirks, throwing the ripped fabric behind him. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he mumbles, staring at your chest, fondling the skin, and then sucking on your nipples.

You don’t expect to be that sensitive there, but you are and the way his lips wrap around your bud and suck on it with passion makes your head spin. It feels so good that you don’t even realize you start grinding against him.

He grins against your skin. “Turned you into a needy mess already?”

Your eyes shy away and realize that neither Mark nor Jaemin are at your side anymore. But you don’t have time to see what they’re doing because Jeno’s lips are around you again while his fingers tease the other nipple and your brain shuts again.

Jeno’d love to make you come like this, he’s more than sure he could make you come like this. But he’s not so sure about your stamina and he doesn’t want to risk it. If he doesn’t get into you now he will go insane.

“Need you.” But it’s you the one that whimpers those words, catching him — them — by surprise. “Jeno, please.”

“Please what, angel?” He teases, he will drag nasty words out of your pretty lips.

Normally you would’ve stuttered and begged him to just get what you wanted but right now you’re desperate, his lips and fingers on you, the warmth of your boyfriend’s seed inside, Jeno’s hard cock grinding against your sensitive, hard clit.

“Please, fuck me.”

Their eyes stare at you in surprise and amusement, shocked and entertained that your shell is coming off, slowly, but all those walls are crashing down.

He groans and kisses you roughly again, you noticed that even if he’s rough, he’s not messy, and he likes to bite, a lot. On your lower lip, on your neck, and on the soft flesh of your boobs. But you find out you like it.

“Where are you going?” You panic when he rolls to the side.

He chuckles, “I’m not leaving you, don’t worry,” his tone is tender but there’s a hint of a mock in it. “Come here,” he pats his lap when he sits on the bed, kicking the teddy bear with his feet to have more space.

“Hey! Mister Teddy,” you complain, crawling on wobbly legs to fix the stuffed toy at the edge of the bed, hoping it could be safe from whatever will keep happening from then on.

“Mister Teddy?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Thought you were more creative.”

“I was ten when I got it,” you reply, plopping on the mattress next to it.

“Damn, he’s really living all your first adventures,” Jaemin laughs, looking at the toy briefly and not catching your glare.

“Come here,” Jeno calls you again, spreading his legs more, giving you space to kneel between them.

“I’m leaking,” you whisper, feeling discomfort when cum starts dripping out of you due to the position; hands and knees, ass perched up as you crawl to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stuff you again.” The way he’s so vulgar about it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. You find something so hot about the contrast between you and them, even your boyfriend and Jaemin whom you always imagined were the calmest and most similar to you. It’s clear that this is completely different from the everyday world.

“Why are you still covered?” You ask timidly, kneeling between his open legs, but not dragging your eyes on his crotch, for some reason he makes you shy. You truly don’t know what to expect from him, one second he looks like he’s indifferent and one later it’s like he wants to eat you alive.

“Wanted you to unpack the gift,” he jokes, pointing at his black boxers and then at you with a nod of the head.

You lean closer to him, ass perching up, making the three men behind you groan, and you note for the first time that they sound so animalistic, like starved hunters that are just sweet enough to wait for you, their prey, to offer yourself to them. But you leave them in the back of your mind, delicate, manicured fingers, hooking in the bands of his underwear, pulling it down with the help of his hips lifting from the mattress.

If you were in a cartoon your jaw would be on the floor, and your eyes would be big, coming out of your skull, but you’re in the real world, and no animation can help you take what Jeno has between his legs.

You gulp, looking at him, finding an amused grin on his face. Oh, he loves that. But you love a challenge, and Haechan wasn’t that much smaller than him so if you took your boyfriend, you could take him, right? Either way, you didn’t care much how impossible that felt. You needed more. And you just seemed addicted to the feelings that sex brought along, throwing yourself into something you weren’t ready for.

“Do I suck you?”

“Honey,” he snorts, “I need more than your mouth.”

“But shouldn’t I lay? How are you going to fuck me like that?”

They totally weren’t used to hearing those words slip out of your mouth, and it was absurd how normal, clean, and innocent they still sounded coming from you. You were an angel sent on earth, there was no other explanation they could give themselves.

After the first shock, he shakes his head and signals you to crawl closer. “Come close, I don’t bite.”

You snicker because he bites very much but you do as he ordered.

“I want you to ride me.”

You tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a cute, confused expression and he has to take a deep breath not to flip you over and piston into you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

“Slide down on my cock and I’ll guide you for the rest.” He tells you instead, somehow gaining some composure back to hide how desperate he is to have you.

You hum hesitantly, he holds his cock up for you, and you slowly sink on it.

“Fuck,” you curse when he’s halfway in, already feeling like he’s splitting you in two, and you are soaking wet and have already been stretched by Haechan before. “You’re too much.”

“I’m in, angel,” he reassures you through gritted teeth because you are tight and warm, and he feels like a teenage boy about to come just by that. It’s pathetic almost, as if this is his first pussy and his body doesn’t know how to react. “Just bottom out, I promise it will feel good.”

You trust him, and so, sinking your nails into his shoulders, you reach the base. You decide to also blame it on the position but fuck, if he’s deep into you.

“Was I good?” You are eager for validation and everybody in the room takes note of that. Haechan already knows it, it’s a thing you have even on non-sexual occasions, but it’s nice to know you crave that even in bed. And the others two can’t wait to use it against you.

“So good, angel,” he praises you. “Now, move on my cock.”

You hesitate, trying to get what he wants. Feeling time pass by, sensation highlighted by the gazes that are burning your back. Somehow the fact that they are not all over you but patiently waiting and staring at your every move makes you a bit more anxious. “I don’t know how to do it,” you whine in a broken confession, voice cutting because he’s not moving and he’s already fucking with your brain.

“But you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Want to learn? You’re such a good learner, always been a good, eager student, I’m sure you can be a good student even now.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes, hoping to unfog your brain and focus on what you have to do. Not only you don’t know how to do what he wants but your brain is far gone.

��You are big, though,” you weep. “You fill me — fill me so well.”

Jeno’s nails sink into your skin when your wet insides clench around him. You’re not controlling your body and yet you’re driving him insane.

“I promise,” he huffs, throwing his head back, shaking his black hair out of his face, and then looking at you, “promise it will feel even better if you start moving. Remember what you did before?”

“When?”

“On poor Mr Teddy and Haechan.”

Your body sparks in flames of shame when he reminds you that, feeling guilty for having done something so dirty with your precious teddy bear and with your boyfriend in front of his friends. But once again, the needs you need to satisfy are making your body go in a different direction.

So you start grinding your hips back and forth, moaning lowly every time your clit rubs against his pubes.

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his lips. “Just like that, angel. Keep moving.”

You whimper when his hands wrap around your waist and Jeno starts fucking you on him, he starts slowly but then his slams get harsher. It takes a while to get what he wants, but you try to follow him as he guides you.

And soon you start to try different patterns, circling your hips, lifting your body up and down, just grinding, and trying to press in your brain what makes the both of you feel better. When you finally find it, and Jeno leaves you more freedom of movement, you feel on cloud nine.

“Fuck,” somebody moans behind you, loud enough to remind you that you and Jeno are not alone in the room. “Look at how good you are at this.” Only when more words leave his mouth, you realize it’s Jaemin.

“Do — do you like me like this?” You ask in a whimper, throwing your head back, the image of the three men pumping their aching boners appearing upside down in your eyes.

Mark would say that he loves you like this, but keeps it to himself, afraid of crossing lines that are not meant to be crossed.

“Don’t you see how hard we are for you?” Your boyfriend replies instead. “This is what you do to us.”

You smile, head moving to fall against Jeno’s forehead, happy with the answer you received.

“And you?” You groan. “Do you — do you like me?”

He groans, nose twitching as his face contorts in a frown. “Are you kidding? Don’t you feel how much I like you? Do I — shit — have to prove it more?”

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out in a whimper, his arms wrap around your frame and he helps you with your thrusts, and then he bites on your lower lip, pulling roughly before he lets go of your soft lips. “Pro—prove me how much you love me.”

Jeno starts sucking on your nipples. It’s loud and wet, and gets your cunt dripping around him so hard that another orgasm rips out of you before you can do anything.

“Horny, dumb, baby,” he mocks, slapping your ass cheek, grinning against your boob when you clench down on him at the impact. “Love the pain, don’t you? Love when I hit you,” another loud smack follows. “Love when I bite you,” his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast. “Do you love when I pinch?” He asks, twisting your other nipple in his hand, your toes curling and your stomach closing in a knot again.

“Yes, love it so much, Jeno, please.”

“Good, keep being a good girl for me, shit,” he groans. “And take all I give to you. All the pain and all the pleasure.”

You think he has an addiction to your boobs because he never lets go of them, lips and fingers torturing them, causing more shivers to run down your spine. But you don’t mind, it feels so good that your brain starts slipping down a treacherous path where you have no control anymore.

And he thinks that too. He might be addicted to you, actually. Because as you bounce up on him, pussy sucking him with eagerness and dripping down his balls, boobs bouncing up and down, he gets lost in your face for a second. Long lashes falling shut on your cheeks, streaked with a messed-up mix of spit, cum, tears and mascara. Swollen soft lips parted in search of air, letting out the prettiest, softest, and most sinful sounds he ever heard. He can only think one thing.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

But he’s not. So he better make the best out of this situation and fuck you more, maybe even make you miss his cock so when Haechan will fuck you again and it won’t feel as good as this you will think of him, how good he made you feel.

And in the depth of yourself you too wonder if anything else will make you feel this good because you didn’t feel like this before, brain dizzy and barely feeling your body, like you were watching from the outside and yet feeling every sensation.

“Gonna fill you up,” he moans, face buried in the crook of your neck, groaning when he sniffs you and even if you’re sweating, he can scent the delicate perfume you applied on yourself, so sweet and intoxicating mixing with your natural scent, driving him insane.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

“Gonna give you all of my cum — fuck — fill you ‘til you’re dripping,” he groans, biting on your skin, making you throw your head back.

He’s about to ask you to beg for it, to push you even more, but once again the words come out of your mouth on your own.

“Give me all,” your voice breaks. “Give me all your cum, please. I want it, want it so much.”

They broke you.

That’s Jeno’s last straw, hips stuttering against you harshly, fucking you messily, moaning louder as you come too and your pussy clenches around him more.

“Fuck,” he groans when your bodies stop convulsing against one another. “You’re so fucking good at this, so perfect.”

You whine when he rolls you over, and then slips out of you, leaving you empty, gaping, and leaking. It’s humiliating being so exposed, or you’re sure that’s how you should feel, but your brain only screams ‘more.’

You don’t have the strength to say it, throat dry and eyes too heavy to even stay open. You blank out for a moment and when you open your eyes again you find Haechan staring at you.

“You good?”

You beam at him, a new glow spreading around you, and he smiles back before he leans in to kiss you. You feel hands on your lower body, but you let yourself get lost in this tender moment with your boyfriend. It doesn’t last much though because Jaemin has other plans.

“You’re so filthy, bunny,” he mocks as he pumps two fingers inside your sensitive cunt, pumping the cum in and then out, grinning dumbly at the lewd image in front of his eyes. Loving how easily your destroyed hole lets three of his fingers in.

You think he’s weird not because of what he’s doing but the way he acts about it, the way he’s been acting about it all night, but that still doesn’t make you find him unattractive or not hot. Probably it makes you underestimate him.

“Come here,” Mark calls, and you frown when he lays on the bed next to you.

“But… I’m tired,” you whine, legs shaking with a shiver since Jaemin is still rubbing his fingers against your walls.

“Oh, already?” He teases you with a fake-kind pout on his face. You flinch when Jaemin pulls out and smacks your pussy hard, sending electric shocks through your body.

“Spoiled brat,” he hisses, pinching your thigh.

“Want us to help but won’t do anything to help us,” Mark complains, giving you a daring glare you don’t really understand.

You don’t expect Mark to drag you on top of him, making you sit on his abs with little to no care, your muscles screaming in pain. “Princess wants us to do all the job for her.” He eases you up and makes you fall back onto his cock, a loud groan coming out of your lips because he keeps catching you unprepared. And because it seems that no matter how much you get stretched, your cunt still can’t get used to it. And you find out you love-hate this position.

“Is this how Haechannie treats you?” Your boyfriend sneers at the nickname, plopping on the bed next to you, staring at your fucked out face with an amused grin. He never imagined he would enjoy so much seeing your friends throwing you around.

“Pampers you.” Mark thrust up into you, leaving you breathless. “Touching you gently.” Another one. “Afraid you may break.” And another, even harder, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You hum, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes again, palms of your hands falling flat on his chest, feeling his muscles flex every time he lifts your ass up and down on him. Mark’s moving you so easily you should be afraid but your body tingles in excitement and your brain shuts down again.

“What a surprise you love being treated like this,” he mocks, spanking your ass, chuckling when your cunt clenches around him. “Does it feel good? My big hand against your soft, delicate skin, princess?”

You whine. The sweet pet name somehow makes you feel like he’s mocking you even more.

“Answer me,” he groans, cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him while his other hand sends another loud spank on your other ass cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is broken by sobs, salty drops following down swiftly, hitting his skin, too.

“For how long you planned on keeping it a secret from me?” Haechan asks, kneeling next to Mark and grabbing you by the hair so he can lift you up, pulling you away from his friend’s body. “Had to put on a show in front of my friend so I would snap and let them fuck you and ruin you, uh?”

“No — no, I — I swear, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?” His usual cocky smirk creeps on your boyfriend’s face as his hold in your hair gets stronger and drags an unexpected moan out of your lips. And he thinks that he’s going to have so much fun turning you into an even needier, kinkier mess from now on.

You shake your head, silently telling him with your eyes that you were honest before, that you never imagined that pain could lead to this pleasure.

“Come on, leave her alone. Don’t you see that she means it? She’s just such a good doll that learns so easily what we want from her. Aren’t you?” Jeno reaches you too, coming to the other side, turning your face to stare at him.

“I’m — I’m not a doll,” you cry, but in reality, you don’t mind being called that. You love dolls. They are pretty. And if they think you are one, you don’t care. It just feels a bit weird to be called one in this context.

“But you’re so pretty and love to play with us,” he pouts, kissing you slowly, cupping your ass harshly before he smacks you again. “You love playing with us, don’t you?”

You nod, falling backward when Mark hits a spot into you that makes your toes curl, and luckily you fall into Jaemin’s strong chest and arms.

“Careful, baby. Dolls can break.” You can hear his evil smirk but it still doesn’t prepare you for what he’s about to do to you.

The scream you let out dies in your throat when you feel him tease your rim.

“Damn, honey, I didn’t even push in,” he laughs at your reaction, feeling your body tense.

“I — I, what are you doing?” You turn your head around when he rests his chin on your shoulder and he’s smiling at you. Fucking evil.

“Filling your pretty ass,” Jaemin replies nonchalantly, batting his lashes at you.

“That’s… that’s…”

“Nasty?” He finishes for you and you nod, biting your lips because Mark is fucking up into you faster and Jeno and Haechan are sucking your nipples and you feel like you’re about to explode.

“But we are nasty,” he grins. If your brain was still with you, you would’ve told him that he is nasty, but you’re too far gone to bicker with him now.

But you still feel that that place is wrong.

“I don’t, I don’t think…” you bite your lips, eyes squeezing as you try to let out words that make sense. “Nothing should go there.”

“You think Nana would put something there if it shouldn’t? You think Nana would ever hurt you or do something you won’t like?”

You think about it, or pretend to think about it, because at this point your brain has no intention of collaborating, and also you really don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, telling you that what’s about to happen is even dirtier than everything else that already happened but you have no idea about it. So you trust him, even if no, you don’t know if he would ever do something to hurt you, because you thought he was nice and he’s surprising you more and more.

When you shake your head and arch your ass back against him, Jaemin smirks and winks at Haechan that is looking at the two of you with an amused smile on his face.

“Too good,” you whimper instead, not even worrying anymore that his wet finger — covered in lube or cum, or both, you’re not really sure about it — is prodding at your entrance and pushing in.

“Jae —” his name doesn’t come out of your mouth because everything that is happening to you is getting to your head.

“Shh, bunny,” he purrs against your earlobe, kissing it before moving to leave wet kisses on your neck. Why the hell is he so messy? “It won’t hurt you. I’ll prep you well to take my cock.”

“Your — your cock?”

“Yes, bunny, you’ve been so good, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeat mindlessly, letting your body relax in his hold, strong arm wrapped around your waist, following the way Mark is moving you on him.

“Shit,” Mark moans, you’re squeezing him in every time that Jaemin adds another finger. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, shocked that Jaemin’s fingers are not hurting you at all, not even when you have Mark pressing into you from the front.

“Nasty princess,” Jeno groans, biting down on the soft, smooth skin of your breast, making you hiss. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this. Are you grateful for this?”

You nod, meeting his eyes, filled with lust.

“You are? Why don’t you thank us?” He teases, starting to rub your clit, flicking it fast enough to make you clench even more around Mark. “Come on, say thank you.”

“I… nghh,” you cry out.

“No, baby. Thank you. It’s easy, even a dumb, nasty princess like you could do it. You just have to repeat. Or are you so cock drunk you can’t even thank us for what we’re giving you? We’re taking care of you, aren’t we?”

You nod enthusiastically but still no words slip out of you.

“We took away your pain,” he grunts, cupping your chin and kissing you harshly, letting his tongue play inside your mouth. “You begged for us to help you and we did. Say thank you.”

You groan when you feel all of them move faster on a different part of your body, testing your brain to come up with two simple words. “Tha-thank you,” you breathe out, hand searching for your boyfriend’s hand and holding it tight when he locks his fingers with yours as his mouth keeps moving on your breast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant sounding more like a plead for more.

“Good girl,” Jeno praises, biting your lower lip again before he kisses you roughly.

“If she was good she would fuck herself on me,” Mark growls and your glossy eyes fall on him. You are letting him do all the job and you can’t promise him you have the strength to help.

“I’m — I’m sorry,” you reply, hoping he can forgive you.

“Then start fucking yourself on me, if you’re really sorry,” he orders and he stops moving, leaving you to complain at the loss of pleasure.

You knit your brows, trying to find support on the other three men around you that are still stimulating you, and your hips start moving. You replicate what you did before with Jeno but now you find it even harder. Your body aches in pain and trembles in pleasure. And it’s all getting to your head. But somehow you manage to move, it’s like your body is moving on its own, it’s like it has already learned all the tricks they have been teaching you all night.

“See, you can do it if you don’t act like a spoiled, lazy brat,” Mark praises, throwing his head back.

When you feel something big and fat press against your rim, your eyes snap open and Mark’s comments slip into the back of your brain.

“Jaemin what are — what are you doing?” You cry out, voice choking in your throat.

“I told you,” he says, pushing you down, closer to the man underneath you, biting his lips as he watches your ass bounce back and forth on Mark. “Fucking your pretty ass.”

You totally underestimated Jaemin.

“Fuck,” you scream when he slams inside you completely and starts fucking you right away. Your body collapses on Mark and you hear him chuckle deeply against your ear.

“Nana,” you cry out, biting down on Mark’s shoulder, making him hiss, more in surprise than pain. He told you he was going to fuck you there, but you thought he was going to do it after, not with Mark inside you.

“Fuck, bunny, you’re made for this,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as his hands wrap around your waist and fucks deep into your other hole.

“Mark,” you whimper, tears flooding down your face like a river in full. It’s not painful like you expected it to be, it sets your body on fire, bliss running in your veins along with your blood, and before you can even notice you come again. It’s long and more intense than before and you feel like you’re about to pass out, but two arms pull you up. You don’t know who’s doing what, but you feel hands and lips all over you, kissing, biting, pinching. You guess the harsher motions come from Jeno and the gentle ones from your boyfriend but as you faintly make out their grins and chuckles, you’re not really sure about who’s doing what.

“You fucking love this, fuck,” Jaemin mocks. “Such a filthy doll, so nasty, so needy.”

“Are you going to beg for our cocks again?” Mark asks. “Gonna crawl around the — fuck — living room every time we come around here. Letting us use you like the pretty fuckdoll that you are.”

Haechan whispers ‘you wish’ but seeing how much he’s loving this night, he wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re his and you will always be, and a little fun never hurt anybody.

“Yes,” the word slips out of your mind without you thinking about it.

“Yes?” Jeno snickers.

“No, I mean — I mean, I…”

“It’s okay, baby,” Haechan whispers, tugging your hair again and staring at your wrecked face. “Nothing wrong with being our pretty toy. Nothing wrong with craving cocks so much after your first time.”

You hum, but no thought is actually crossing your mind. It’s like the more they fill you up, the more your brain empties.

And the strange thing is that you don’t mind. You truly love this feeling of having no power while they do whatever they want with you.

And the normal–every day–you would be surprised to hear you beg for more, using such filthy words. But right now, that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Please,” you moan. “Give me more. Uh, give me — give me your cum.”

Jaemin curses gutturally, throwing his head back before his forehead dips again against your shoulder. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” He knows you’ll haunt his days and nights to come, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to look at you as he did before.

And as if you want to prove him a point, your hips start to grind on them, somehow finding the right pace to fuck against them while he and Mark keep railing you at their perfect rhythm.

You hear Mark’s moans get higher and slightly whinier, and when you open your eyes to look at him, you smile faintly, falling forward and planting your hands at the sides of his head.

“Fuck,” Mark groans, biting his lips to don’t bite yours. He can’t believe you greeted them some hours ago looking like the most perfect, innocent, well-behaved girl, and now you’re letting them destroy you and are still begging for more. His brain replays images of you before, in your pretty, pink nightwear, with your sweet, loving smile, a thin layer of rosé eyeshadow, and some mascara on your lashes, and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there’s nothing of it left. You look like a mess.

“Come here,” he encourages you, and you lean closer, a choked moan trapping in your mouth when his tongue lays flat on your cheek and he licks your tears away. “Gotta keep you clean, baby.”

“That’s hot,” your boyfriend groans beside you, and for a second, you think again if any of this that is happening tonight is normal. Do other boyfriends do this too? Did he ever do this with their girlfriends when they were dating? But you shrug it off because wrong or right, you don’t care. Mark is right, if it feels good, that’s all that matters.

And you feel the same, strong and violent sensation built up in your body. They are close too since their thrusts against you are messier and they are both squeezing the skin on your waist to have a grip on the pleasure running through them.

“Can fucking feel you,” Jaemin moans, pressing a hand against the small of your back, pushing you further down and making your ass arch up. You get he’s talking to Mark, and you find it weirdly exciting that they can feel each other through your thin walls separating them. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good.” You groan and burn in shame when he spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your wrecked rim, adding to the mess of cum and lube.

“Nana,” you cry out his name and he could come only hearing that. It comes out so well from your lips, so sweet and pure while he wrecks you and does the most disgusting things ever.

“Is Nana making you feel good, bunny? Do you like how Nana’s cock fills your pretty, tight hole?” He coos, voice as sweet as the most temping sin.

“Ye-yes, so good,” you moan, some drool spilling on Mark’s shoulder, too fucked out to care about it and control your body. It feels too good. Head spinning and muscles shaking as you know you’re close again. “Please, I’m — I’m close. Fuck me harder,” you wail and they both groan, obeying. Your boyfriend looks at you after clicking his tongue, thinking you will make him go insane, and then meets Jeno’s eyes, looking at him as if he’s silently reminding him how fucking lucky he is to have you. And Haechan only grins, because he knows. He’s so lucky that you’re his.

Jaemin collapses on you, sandwiching you between his and Mark’s body, so closeted in that space that it could almost be claustrophobic and yet it makes you high. You love their skins on yours, heating bodies brushing together in a dirty and wet mess of cum, sweat, and so much more you can’t even tell apart. You love how raw this feels. As if you’re all running after a need you didn’t even know you had, chasing it for dear life.

The orgasm ripples through the three of you at the same time, loud moans, groans, and wet sounds fill the room. It smells like sex, the air feels so thick that you could cut it. And you feel boneless, the weight of Jaemin’s body pressing you flat against Mark, the shocks of the nth orgasm still running through your tired bones, the faint praises you hear coming from one of them, two, or three, you don’t know. Their voices mix up, just like their lips and hands on your skin.

When you lay there, gently turned to lay with your back on the mattress by Mark, too much cum dripping out of you, skin burning up, chest heaving swiftly, and wet cheeks, they think you’ve had enough. A weird feeling of pity screaming in the back of their minds to let you go, clean you up, give you some water and put you to sleep… in what bed they have no idea, considering the only safe thing is Mr Teddy.

But they underestimate what they truly did to you.

“More.”

They blink repeatedly, looking at each other to make sure none of them is mocking your voice and that’s the real you.

“Please,” you plead. “Need more. Need you. Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll — I’ll take all you give me,” you mumble, praying them with broken eyes staring at them one by one.

And that’s all it takes to make them jump on you again.

They broke you.

Stained your innocence.

Dragged any sane and pure thought out of your brain and turned you into modelable mud in their hands.

Anything they would’ve given to you, you would’ve taken. Accepting it with no second thought of how dirty or wrong it could’ve been.

And in fact, you don’t.

“Need to feel how good your pretty, little pussy is,” Jaemin says, sinking into your swollen and sensitive core. “So good.”

“Nana,” you cry, wrapping your hands around his shoulders when his cock starts rubbing against your velvety walls.

“It’s good, bunny. I know you love this.”

You sniffle, rivers of transparent and black tears staining your face, and he throbs inside of you, groaning into your neck when his head falls forward.

You look like a complete mess and yet, is not enough for him. So one hand slips between you and when his fingers rub against your clit, more tears start to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, “need to film this. Can I — fuck — can I film you, bunny? Can I film how pretty you look right now? Pretty and messy and dumb.”

You nod, expecting the flash to blind you when Mark passes him a phone, but Haechan turns on a small lamp at the side of your bed that tints the room with a warm light and is enough to light up your wrecked state.

He points at your face, caressing it, smearing the mess on your soft cheek, telling you how pretty you look, the pretties doll when you cry. And then he moves it where your bodies meet, the wet, squelching sounds and lewd images being captured by the camera of his phone.

“You’re going to make me so happy, bunny,” he whispers, angling the phone the best he can as he tries to fuck fast into you, and Jeno is so kind to grab it and film for him. They were only going to have one take and it had to be good. “Gonna think of you every time I’m in pain.”

A dumb, sweet smile paints on your face, and that’s what it takes to throw him off. After all, you still are the sweet, naïve, girl they are used to know. And he thinks that Haechan — he believes they won’t be so lucky to have you again — will have to break you every single time. And he wishes he was him so bad, so fucking bad.

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin growls. “You’ll be so full of us you’ll remember us for days.” He does as he promises, giving you what you asked for, cock throbbing hard into you as he let out longer moans as pleasure overflows him and you at the same time. He comes messily, hips barely moving against you as he empties himself inside and then pulls out, making his seed spurt on your thighs, and lower stomach.

You hum into your boyfriend’s mouth, and your brain spins faster at that. He’s kissing you so gently as his other three friends keep fucking you, teasing you and filling you with their cum as they like.

A moan ripples from your mouth when his fingers reach your cum-coated mound, you truly have it everywhere now, and he reaches down to move on your clit.

“Hyuck, no,” you cry, swallowing a scream.

“No?” Haechan raises a brow, staring at you with a tender-mocking expression. “Sensitive?”

You nod, blinking your wet lashes as your eyes try to focus on his beautiful face.

“You’re not sensitive for them, though. I think you can take me, can take your boyfriend.” He smirks, watching your smile fade when you get that he has no intention of having mercy on you. “Can you?” He growls, slapping your clit, making you nod and mumble a thread of ‘yes.’

“Good. That’s my fucking good girl.”

You don’t have time to recover from your orgasm or focus on the mess Jaemin and Haechan made, that you’re getting filled again.

“Shit,” Mark moans, wide eyes fixated down where he’s fucking into you, pumping the white mess in and out of you. “You feel so good,” he almost cries, squeezing his eyes to imprint in his brain the sensation of your cunt because he’s sure he never felt something so good before and he won’t ever feel something so good again — well, unless Haechan hits his head and lets them have another round with you, but he highly doubts that. And he also knows that the videos Jaemin took —is taking— won’t be enough, that his hand won’t be enough to replicate this, to replicate you.

“Mark,” you breathe out, glossy, bright eyes looking into his, letting him know how drunk on the feeling you feel, how it is too much, and yet never enough.

“Yes, baby?” He asks, cupping your breast, kneading and pinching your nipples.

Your hips buck up at his harsh moves on you, hands slapping against the sheets and moans coming out of your mouth like screams. “Feels good, so good.”

“Shit, I know,” he replies through gritted teeth. He knows you love this from the way your heat is gripping him tight as you probably came another time, he can’t even tell it anymore, it’s like you’re going through an eternal orgasm; cunt clenching, body squirming, nails sinking in the sheets under you and moans and curses coming out of your mouth.

Mark wants to make it last longer but your pussy is sucking him in, and he thinks you’re also sucking his life away, and he can’t hold it more, so he comes inside you again.

Your head rolls back and your nails dig into the sheets when you feel another cock slip into you, Jeno. He’s rough, gripping your flesh tightly, slamming you against him, lost in his pleasure.

And then they take turns again, and again, at this point, they’re not even fucking you, they’re just putting the tip in and coming inside, not even that deep as they watch the white, sticky substance drip to your ass, mixing with the one that is slowing dripping out of that hole.

It’s a sick thing. And when you think they can’t do anything worse than that, Jaemin surprises you once again.

Your eyes widen when you feel something soft and wet wrap around your pussy lips and with the little strength left, you take a glimpse at the man buried between your legs.

You want to ask what he’s doing but you’re too tired, too shocked, too…too… is too much to do anything else but let your head fall back and let him do whatever he wants.

“You’re disgusting,” Jeno comments, a grossed-out frown on his face as he looks away from his friend, walking around the bed to reach you on the other side, hard cock in hand as he positions over you, bending his knees on the mattress so he’s at your level.

You look at him with half-lidded eyes and whine when Haechan pulls away from you, leaving your side empty.

“Open up,” Jeno orders and your body follows his order in the blink of an eye. “Can let this mouth empty.”

Jaemin would love to eat you out more, but when Haechan taps his shoulder, he can only take a step back and wait for his turn again.

Your hips buck up when Haechan enters you.

“Fucking finally,” he moans, throwing his head back, feeling your warmth again. He’s not jealous of the others, he kept staring at them going at you for so long and he found it so hot. But he only had two orgasms at the start of the night and he needs to feel you again. “All stretched out and dirty. Such a messy baby. Are you my messy baby?”

You nod, choking on Jeno’s cock, lungs burning up as you feel like all your strength is being sucked —fucked— out of you.

“Fuck,” he hums. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before, can’t believe I let you fool me.”

You don’t answer. You can’t; Jeno’s cock barely makes you breathe as he fucks your mouth with the same strength he fucked your pussy before, and your mind is too broken to let out words that are not slurred or moans.

“Didn’t believe me when I told you this would ease the pain —shit— and now look at you,” Haechan coos, hand reaching your neck, feeling Jeno’s shape on your throat. “If only you took it easier, babe —fuck— could’ve —ugh— could’ve had this long ago.”

You can hear the wet sounds of Mark and Jaemin’s cocks, jacking off swiftly, and you wonder how much more they have to give you and how it doesn’t hurt, because it’s starting to hurt you, it’s starting to truly feel too much. Pleasure getting unbearable, and yet, they seem to still have more.

Haechan pushes your legs up and the sound you make is embarrassing, but nobody in the room truly cares, is not the only dirty sound filling the room. And they are too caught up in their world to even worry about a puff of air and squelches of cum coming out of your used holes.

Jeno pulls out of you, and spit drools out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath.

“Hyuck, close,” you cry, looking at your boyfriend with tears-streaked face, Jeno’s harsh thrust triggering your tears even more. And the sight would be enough to make him come but he needs to try one thing before coming one last time.

“Hyuck, fuck,” you scream when he pushes into your rim, stretching your other hole again after it had relaxed. Why they never warn you when they fuck you there?

“Shut up,” he says, kissing you harshly, shielding you from Jeno that huffs in annoyance. “You took Jaemin, you can take me.”

You nod mindlessly, nails running on his back, leaving red marks behind, and that makes him fuck into you faster. He loves this new side of you, he loves it so much and he wants to see even more. Drag a beast out of you. Turn you into a hunter instead of a prey.

“Do it again,” he orders and at first you don’t get it but then your nails dig into his back again, scratching him more. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, throwing his head back.

A thought about why he wants you to hurt him crosses your mind for a split second but when the nth orgasm washes over you, your mind goes blank again. And Jeno uses your open mouth to fill you with his hard cock. You almost choke at the unexpected intrusion and your eyes widen when you feel two fingers dig into your sopping wet cunt.

Jaemin.

And then a pair of lips on your right nipple.

Mark.

Not only they are fucking you but they are fucking with you.

Do they plan on making you pass out? Because you think you’re really close to that.

You lose the grip on reality after what happens next, their moans get heavier and louder, cum spills on your face as Jeno pulls out of you, so sensitive he falls on the pillow over you. Your boyfriend comes soon after, the sight of Jeno jacking off on your face, painting your skin white, is the last straw, filling your ass, his cum mixing with Jaemin’s that was almost already all out of you. Mark would love to slip into you again but decides to go for another part of your body, using your limp hand to pump his painfully hard cock and come all over your breasts.

You think they’re done, but Jaemin has once again something in store for you.

Your feet plant against the mattress as your hips lift up from it when he starts eating you out, tongue entering your wrecked hole and lips sucking harshly on your clit while one of his hand keeps your body pushed down.

The others look at you two in a drunken, dreamy gaze, they feel too tired, they have no idea how you’re still taking the last thing Jaemin wants to give you. But you do, you’re still moaning, crying and trembling in his hold, chanting his name and curses.

And Jaemin gets drunk in that, slurping the mess on your cunt, leaving open-mouthed kisses, tongue lapping flat at your skin as he eats you out greedily, not caring about his, and his friends’, cum, and his fingers slip inside to push you toward the last orgasm. It’s intense, it freezes your body and makes you go slump against the mattress, whimpering and begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Jaemin groans, grabbing his cock and masturbating fast, ruining all the job he did to clean you up when he messily comes on your mound, on your thighs, and your tummy. But you’re still beautiful, in all that mess, in all their fucked-up fantasies, you still look so precious and pure. So he takes one last snap as he smiles at you, looking at him through lidded eyes, and he knows you’ll fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he hums, kissing you, licking off some of Jeno’s cum.

And they all think that too as, too tired to do anything, they collapse next to you.

All of you would’ve thought about the rest tomorrow morning when everything would’ve sunk in, for now, you are letting it drip.

hope you liked it!! let me know with comments, reblogs and asks if you want to ♡

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