#the hospital is not exactly what I had in mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zarameraki · 7 days

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♡₊˚🛏️₊✧ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼’𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ♡🌙₊˚₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 somnophilia (the characters have discussed the kink beforehand) 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with a bit of plot 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 gojo eats you out 𖥔 bj 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 heavy daddy kink 𖥔 lots of dirty talking

: ̗̀➛ words: 3.1k

: ̗̀➛ notes: initially this was a toji fic but satoru somehow decided to fit better (bad-dum tshh). ngl when i was writing this i got butterflies in my stomach. like i legit felt sumn throbbing lmaooo. tmi??? dont care. we're all horny here mamas. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Satoru wasn’t ashamed to fuck his step-daughter.

He enjoyed it.

You enjoyed it.

A clandestine affair kept under the sheets from your mother and two older brothers.

Megumi and Yuji had their suspicions about how carefree their step-father was around you, constantly tickling your side, asking you to lay your head on his lap during movie nights, and buying you gifts on a whim. The boys would obviously complain about the special treatment, but Satoru would just watch with a smile as you stuck your little tongue out and called yourself Daddy’s girl.

Because that's what you were. You were your daddy’s girl. And Satoru ensured that fact was deeply ingrained in your mind as he moved in and out of you, lifting your tender legs onto his shoulders, kissing your rosy lips, saturating your silk sheets with both his and your release.

It was difficult keeping the lewd side of your relationship a secret. Your mother was rarely at home from her corporate job, and you suspected she was having an affair with a salaryman named Satoru.

Meanwhile, your brothers were in their second and fourth year of college nearby and could come home whenever they pleased—particularly Megumi, who wasn't as much of a partygoer as Yuji being a senior. There were multiple times while Satoru was fucking you when Megumi returned home, but did that stop him from satisfying his girl? Fuck no.

As for your stepfather, he was a remote investor in the booming hospitality industry, managing significant stakes in various companies. His encounter with your mother at an industry event last year was strategic; she became a means to an end, a stepping stone toward fulfilling his desires. A few months down the line, she introduced him to her family, to you—the most precious thing Satoru laid his eyes on. You were the real prize in his eyes, something he had to figure out how to get his hands on, despite always getting what he wanted.

So, he married your mother, moved into your house, and deployed every weapon in his arsenal, including his lethal charms, to claim you as his own.

But did Satoru cherish you in the way a man should cherish a woman? No. He didn't cherish you. His love didn’t check off the conventional boxes. He was consumed, fixated, captivated by your existence, by your body, the adorable noises you made when you climaxed. But not enough to make you his girlfriend, or someday his wife.

He just wanted you as his step-daughter. He was a selfish, depraved bastard who got off on that fantasy, and you, God you loved nothing more. You wanted nothing more from him than to be exactly who he was in his spot—your step-father.

As long as you both kept fucking each other for however long, you were satisfied.

“Quiet, baby,” Satoru whispered as he clicked on a link for a video call with his team. His one hand rested over his mouse, the other over your crown as you lapped at the tip of his leaking cock. “This is an important call.”

You’d returned from school after acing the test you’d been studying all week for and wanted to release that excitement onto your step-father. After all, he did massage your shoulders and brought you fruits when you were busting your ass memorizing the periodic table.

Satoru plastered on a smile as the voices from his computer started speaking. He still kept petting your head, chuckling casually and speaking smoothly about numbers and profits like the capitalist he was.

You opened your jaw wider and took his length into your mouth. Your gag reflex was non-existent after months and months of perfecting this skill. Your tongue supported the bottom of his shaft, while slowly bobbing your head up and down. Satoru’s grip tightened in your hair, but he remained all rainbow and sunshine in front of his workers.

You gripped his thick cock, feeling the veins pulsing under your touch. Your tongue slid from the bottom to the top as you sucked on the pink head like a lollipop, glancing up at him through your lashes.

Satoru shot you a heated look and guided your head with his hand. He pushed his throbbing cock into your mouth, holding your face against his pelvis. You gagged a bit, needing air, and he eased off.

“It’s on mute,” he muttered.

You broke out into coughs and smacked his leg. “What the fuck was that for?”

“For giving me those eyes.”

You scoffed. “Dickhead.”

“It’s right in front of you, Princess. Put your pretty lips on it again.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his cock extra tight making a muscle in his jaw twitch. You lapped at the pre-cum leaking down his length, then took him into the cave of your warm, small mouth.

Satoru held your head in his hands, guiding the pace. He struggled to focus on the meeting, clearing his throat to shake off the intense feeling building up inside him. With fifteen minutes still to go, he was on the brink.

Feeling your tap on his knee, he glanced down to see you motioning to your mouth.

Satoru lowered your head again, clenching his jaw as your tongue pushed him over the edge. He held his breath, releasing a wave of warmth as he emptied himself into your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, while his other hand reached for his glass of water, desperately trying to steady himself with large gulps.

You pulled back, strings of your saliva and his come forming a bridge. He gave you the water and you drank the last bits of it. Satoru patted the top of your head and you stayed hidden underneath his table, admiring him as he finished his meeting.

And before you knew it, he had you bouncing on his cock again.

At dinner time, you helped set up the table with your brothers while your mother flipped the hamburger patties.

Satoru tossed the salad bowl, taking small glimpses at you and the pink set of tight shorts and tank you wore. He’s been noticing you rubbing your temples, swaying a little on the balls of your feet, blinking rapidly. You clearly weren’t feeling well from all that studying you’d been doing.

Megumi abruptly pulled you aside by your elbow. “Is everything all right?”

You blinked, fighting the sharp pain in your temple. “Yeah. Why?”

“Satoru keeps glaring at you. Did you piss him off or something?”

You cast a look at your step-father, who’s focused on pouring olive oil on the greens. “I haven’t talked to him since I came home from school.”

Megumi nodded, rubbing your arm. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.”

“What do you mean?”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I just— This probably sounds stupid, but I don’t like knowing you’re both home alone in the afternoon.”

“He lives here, silly. What do you expect?”

“Yeah, I know. I know that—I’m just saying that he looks at you . . . like, weirdly. Not in a way someone would look at their family member. He acts weirdly, too. Always touching you and tickling you. I don’t know.” Megumi scrutinizes your outfit. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wear that around the house when he’s here.”

You frowned and crossed your arms. “I can’t deal with this again.” Putting on an act that Satoru was simply your step-father and nothing else was tiring, but you’d mastered it. “You’re being delusional as always, Megs. Satoru is just family to us and vice versa. I’m just special because I’m the youngest.” You patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself. And if I ever need help, I’ve got you and Yuji to defend me.”

Megumi smiled solemnly and shrugged off his hoodie, handing it to you. “Can you at least wear this?”

Anything to ease his mind.

You smiled and shouldered the large hoodie.

Throughout dinner you kept losing focus of the conversation flowing between your brothers and mother. Your head was pounding from the stress of your upcoming final exams, your scalp ached a little from Satoru’s grip this afternoon, and you desperately needed sleep.

“Y/N?”

You lifted your head, blinking lethargically. “Yes, Mom?”

“Are you okay?”

“I—” You rubbed your heated forehead and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I, uh—I think I’m just not feeling too good.”

“Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to take it easy with school? You’re doing great—”

“Great’s not going to get me in my dream college, Mom.” You lost your appetite easily and excused yourself from the table, grabbing a bottle of NyQuil and a spoon. “Please don’t wake me up until tomorrow. Goodnight.” You ignored everyone’s stares and marched upstairs, taking a spoonful on the way.

Dropping face-front on the bed, you melted in your sheets and forced yourself into a sleep.

Satoru waited until every light in the house was off before visiting your bedroom.

Of course, he had to check that little shit Megumi’s room, and after hearing nothing but white noise, he checked up on Yuji and found him snoring his lungs out, then finally entered into your space.

He shut the door quietly and locked it.

You laid fast asleep, hair dusted across your soft face, one hand on your stomach, the other next to your head.

Satoru smirked and sat at the edge of your bed, checking your temperature by pressing his hand against your forehead. You were burning up, and the little strangled breaths puffing from your parted lips proved you weren’t going to school tomorrow.

Lying down next to you, Satoru brushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He glanced down the length of your body and back to your face. His fingers danced over your collarbone, the expanse of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse.

“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing below your earlobe. He watched you for a second, waiting for you to shift or wake up, but you were dead asleep.

You talked about what turns you on the most last week, and somnophilia was right up there, leaving Satoru scratching his head in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could be into getting it on while asleep. But you were practically begging him to give it a try someday, and he couldn’t say no to you.

Well, surprise, surprise, baby.

Satoru slipped down the straps of your tank top, leaning over you. He bridged kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulders, softly, not his usual crass ones. His finger hooked your tank lower until it exposed your tits and your puckered nipples.

“You’re always sensitive here, aren’t you, Princess?” He cupped your left breast and lowered his head, kissing the nipple and sucking the bud.

You took a deep breath and shifted your face to the right.

Satoru switched to your neglected breast, taking his sweet time nibbling your tender nipple, then bringing his lips to yours. He kissed the top one, the bottom one, pushed his tongue inside to feel your sleeping one. His kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached your shorts. He pulled them down to reveal white panties and a damp spot between your legs.

“Even in your sleep, huh?” Satoru planted kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and licking. He nuzzled his nose against your clothed sex, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly. His tongue traced over the area, wetting it more with each stroke. “Daddy’s gonna eat his pussy now, baby.” He pulled your panties to the side and dove into your slick, moist folds. “Mmm. You smell so sweet.”

Satoru began to lap your juices like a starved dog, keeping your tender folds parted with his thumbs. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit, sending a little shiver down your body. He double-checked to see if you’re still asleep, then continued his job. He pushed two fingers in your walls and chuckled against your flesh as you clenched around him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s taking good care of you.”

Half an hour. He ate you out for half an hour until he could see the slight quiver in your swollen clit. His saliva and your fresh release covering your abused, delicate folds.

When he pulled away, his hard cock in hand, Satoru sat back, admiring you spread out like a feast before him. Leaning in, he teased your folds with his throbbing length, digging his tip over your clit in gentle circles.

“Can I put it in, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. You didn't answer, sweat trickling down your forehead with the fever. Satoru licked the droplets, then kissed down to your neck. His hands stayed by your head as he moved his hips, dragging himself over your puffy cunt. “Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your little pussy is so soft and wet.” He gripped his length and pressed just the tip into your entrance. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. Just don't wake up, okay?”

Satoru slipped in smoothly and nuzzled into your neck. He eased into your tightness, going slow and steady, urging your gummy walls to adjust to his size. “My sweet baby. Look at you. Sleeping while your daddy fucks himself in you.” He pulled back and widened your legs, seeing his fat cock sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck this little cunt of yours for hours.” He started moving quickly. “I don’t care if you can’t walk tomorrow. You won’t be leaving this bed anyway with that fever of yours. Daddy’s gonna fuck it out of you however long it takes.”

He put his hands on either side of your head and kissed you while moving his hips.

You moaned, feeling a shiver as cold touched your bare chest and legs. “Satoru,” you said softly. His eyes closed in pleasure as he increased his pace.

Sensing you stirring, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you over so you were lying on his chest. He paused, running his hand down your arm. “It’s okay, Princess. Go to sleep. Daddy’s got you.”

You exhaled heavily.

Satoru licked his lips and grabbed your plump asscheeks in his palms, slowly moving himself up into you. His face squished up seeing how well you were handling him even though you were out cold. He kept going, sometimes easing up when you shifted on his chest, or speeding up when you stayed asleep.

“I'm so close, baby. So close to finishing inside my little girl. Gonna fill you up. Flush those pills and make you a mom.” He envisioned you with a swollen belly, your breasts heavy with milk, your body glowing and all his.

Fuck, you were his.

You were only his.

Satoru came harder than he ever had before. Hot spurts of his release filled your sweet hole to the brim, and yet he continued with pumping into you. “Hey, baby? Daddy doesn’t want to stop now, okay? He’s going to fuck you some more,” he said, realizing why this kink meant so much to you.

Pulling out slowly, he laid you down beside him, shedding his clothes. Pressing his chest against your back, he wrapped your leg around his and slid back inside you, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to be rough, to feel your nails on his skin, to bite you and hear you moan.

“I wanna kiss you, baby. I want your little tongue.” Satoru pulled out of you after finishing for the second time and laid you on your back. He adjusted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers went back to pleasuring you while his lips met yours. He slipped his thumb between your teeth, easing your bottom jaw down. Satoru slid his tongue in, playing with yours, moaning and breathing heavily.

“My baby has such soft lips,” he murmured over your wet, swollen mouth. Taking his finger soaked with your juices and his come, Satoru placed them between your lips and ran them over your tongue. He ravished your mouth again.

Exhausted from holding back, Satoru pulled you close and slid back inside you, staying still, just feeling your warmth. He ran his hand over your back, kissed your head, and shut his eyes.

In the morning, you woke up feeling a bit weighed down below and something awkward stopping your movements. You lifted your head, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and saw Satoru asleep beneath you. A grin spread across your face as you remembered the steamy dream you had about him satisfying you.

You planted a kiss on his cheek and tried to get up using your hands, but then you froze.

You looked down and realized you were sitting right on top of Satoru’s cock.

Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream.

Satoru fucked you while you were out cold. Just thinking about him taking advantage of your defenseless body to satisfy himself made you shiver.

“Dickhead,” you grumbled, then began to rock your hips. Time for payback. Yanking down your cami-top, you teased your nipples, riding his stiffening cock. You couldn't care less as you leaned in for a kiss. “Rise and shine, Handsome.”

Satoru took a deep breath. His lips synced with yours effortlessly, and his hand found its way into your hair. He yanked your head back, his eyes widening as they trailed down to your swaying hips. A smirk played on his lips as he relaxed back, crossing his arms behind his head. “You feeling good now, Princess?”

“Much better, Daddy.”

Satoru admired the playful bounce of your tits, the adorable mewls escaping your mouth, the flush of your smooth skin. Seeing his step-daughter fuck herself on his cock first thing in the morning had him on cloud nine.

“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” you moaned, hands planted on his chest.

“Come, then, baby. Come on your daddy’s cock.” He reached out and grabbed your throat. “Then lick it clean.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You came with a muted cry, milking every last drop of him. “Your cock is so full inside of me.” Satoru smirked at your dirty little words and gave your left tit a little slap.

You picked yourself up from his cock and knelt between his legs. Satoru watched as your little hand barely wrapped around his girth, lapping at his come like his pretty, little kitten. “Feels good, Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby. You always feel good to me.”

Satoru released a contented sigh and reclined against the soft pillows, his arms folded beneath him.

He will never be shameless of fucking his sweet girl ever.

#zaraswriting #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x yn #gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #somno k!nk

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tender-rosiey · 9 months

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hinting — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: thank @callmemirro for the bby fever idea but the video of the baby is what fueled the fire even more

you have a feeling that something has been plaguing your husband’s mind. it’s not a bad thing—like that way too expensive pea-sized handbag he wanted to get just to clown it.

it’s actually good and adorable especially with the way it gets him all smiley and bubbly.

you also started to notice when exactly he gets into these moods or rather regarding what.

for example, you were browsing the store once for new clothes. you and satoru agreed to split to search on a wider scale for discounts.

so when he came back, all smiley and excited, you expected a 50% sale or something. instead, you got surprised with possibly the cutest baby pajama ever.

“what do you think, babe? it’s so cute especially the little smiling duck in the middle!”

you take it from him, examining it up close. truthfully, the material is pretty good and it is soft on the skin. there is only one problem though.

you look up to your husband with a smile, “but, honey, we don’t have a baby.”

satoru deflates for a single second before standing up straight, proud, “hey, now! we can always get it for future plans,” he ogles you, but you quickly pinch his nose.

“haha, very funny.” you start pushing the cart towards that one outfit you liked with satoru following close by.

“y/n, I am serious!” he whines as his hand finds home on your waist.

“and I am a dinosaur in disguise.”

he gasps, “really?!”

“no.”

and that happened more than once.

another thing is that satoru has been obsessed with baby videos.

you remember that one time you were chilling on your beloved couch when he came stumbling into the room, clutching his phone and almost dying of laughter, “y/n! y/n! look at this baby!”

satoru is wheezing as he replays the video over and over again. his uncontrollable laughter is music to your ears, but you feel that you’re going to have to take him to a therapist or a mental hospital.

he laughs loudly for sure, but he has been like this for 4 hours, showing you a baby video every minute or so.

you look at him with sympathy as he cackles, “it was so ready to square up too—huh, what’re you doing?”

you pull him into your embrace and he immediately melts, arms wrapping around you in an instant.

you gently rub his back and press a kiss to the top of his head, “my poor baby,” you coo and gojo lights up: have you finally understood what he has been hinting at?

you cup his face and kiss his cheeks, “work must’ve taken quite a toll on you; we can go to the hosp—“

“hey! that’s just mean!”

he huffs moving away and giving you his back, but then he looks back at you, “but the baby was cute, right?”

you laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder, “yeah, in a way, it reminded me of megumi.”

“you’re so right! even as a first-grader, he was so ready to fight anyone.”

another memorable incident happened when you were in a park, taking a walk with your darling husband.

it was peaceful, accompanied by the squeals of children, the coolness of the ice cream, and the comfort of your husband’s presence. speaking of which, where’s that guy?

you look around, searching for a very prominent walking paintbrush. you blink once, twice, and he is finally in front of you with a huge grin, “y/n, look at this cutie pie I just met!”

you soften at the sight of the giggling baby in his arms. the little baby girl reaches out for you and you cradle her in your arms.

cooing at her, you rock gently while making silly faces and it makes her laugh a laugh from her belly. it also makes a certain someone sport the most lovesick smile known to existence.

smiling, you look at your husband, “where did you find her? was she lost?”

your husband sweatdrops and looks to the side, glasses showing off his bright blue eyes, “about that—“

“there he is, officer! he took my baby!”

so yeah, something is up with your husband, and you have had enough with him hiding it from you. god is on your side today as you’re finally able to back him into a corner and finally interrogate him.

“satoru, is there something you want to tell me?” you ask the man, breathless after running around the school for a couple of hours.

silence occupies the room before your husband finally gives in.

he takes a deep breath and hugs you, resting his head on your shoulder, “I want…” he mumbles, “I want a baby, please?”

you are silent for a moment then you make him look you in the eyes, “really?”

“really,” he says, voice unwavering, “I know that it might be scary, but we have experience with tsumiki and megumi, and they turned out just fine!” he starts rambling, “except for megumi, he can be bratty sometimes, but point is!” he holds your hands in his, “I want to start a family with you, but if you don’t want—“

“okay.”

“—to I completely understand and…wait—did you just say okay?”

“yeah,” you beam, “let’s have a baby. you could’ve said that right away, silly.”

he stares at you for a bit, “do you have any idea how LONG I HAVE BEEN—“

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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atrwriting · 9 months

Text

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. ��stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

#carmy smut #carmy berzatto #carmy #carmen #carmen berzatto #carm berzatto #carm smut #carmen smut #the bear #bear #carmy bear berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmen x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you

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itostea · 10 months

Text

care for me? (gojo x wife! reader)

——————————————————————————

in which you’re forced to share a bed with the husband you’re convinced hates you

warnings: there’s only one bed!!!! suggestive bc it’s gojo, they’re both a bit confused, pic from lving yamada kun at lv999

a/n: part of the gojo’s wife series (i recc you read the fic before this one to understand some things), also i’m posting this stuff on my phone now since i’m on vacay …meaning format will be extra ugly💀💀

——————————————————————————

“What exactly did you say to make the principal Gakuganji agree to us on a mission together?”

You think Gojo or rather your husband, doesn’t really understand how fast he actually walks. With the way he towers over every civilian in Japan and how much longer his strides are, you’re almost certain that his pacing is far from normal. It gets to the point where you’re jogging to keep up with him, a huff escaping your lips in exasperation.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, ‘kay?” He gives you a lazy smile and with the blindfold wrapped around his head, you can’t exactly see the way he glances over at you–gradually shortening his steps for you to catch up.

You choose to ignore his comment about “your pretty little head” and instead sigh. “Sator–I mean ‘Toru,” you say carefully, gauging the way he gives a satisfied smile at your correction. After the moment you both had in the kitchen at a dangerously late hour, he insisted you call him a nickname.

He gave some recommendations: my hubby, my king, the strongest and most handsome husband. Naturally, you refused to call him those nicknames in public and even denied him the joy in private. So to avoid his needless whining, you compromised and decided on “‘Toru.” The way he brightened up that day made you feel giddy all over but you brushed it off with the fact that you were just glad he was actually talking to you.

“You didn’t do anything bad right?” You inquire, shooting him a glare.

“I think what I did was reasonable!” He chirps, reaching in a bag of candy to plop some in his mouth—the same bag he insisted on getting before you both went on the mission. You can’t help but feel a bit meek when his fingers inch towards your mouth and he gives a toothy grin, beckoning for you to open. You breathe out an annoyed huff, slightly parting your lips to let the sugary treat on your tongue.

He smiles, leaning forward to let his fingers linger in the plush of your lips. “Good girl.”

The way your breath hitches is visceral and you feel the pricks of embarrassment probe at your skin. Your eyes avert from his and you quicken your steps, trying your best to hide the fact that Gojo Satoru was having an effect on you. You miss the way his smile widens at your reaction.

You still avoid his gaze when he catches up. “You know I’m the one who cleans up after your mess whenever you piss the higher-ups right? It’s me who gets the scolding!”

“Scolding? Would you believe me if I told you stuff like that won’t happen again?”

You pause, analyzing how he flashed a coy grin. Immediately, your eyes narrow. “Gojo Satoru.”

“It’s ‘Toru to you,” he voices, chuckling at how your frown deepened. “Relax. I didn’t do anything that bad. Just did enough for them to stop annoying my wife.”

You choose not to linger on how easily the words “my wife” falls out of your lips but it’s hard when he went so far just for your wellbeing. Your mind drifts to his lips pressed against your forehead, instantly regretting it as you feel your neck growing warm. You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts from multiplying, earning a curious look from Gojo.

Before he can ask why you went quiet, you stop in your tracks, looking at him with an expression so cute he nearly feels himself fall over. You click your tongue. “‘Toru. You annoy me more than them.”

He whistles, looking at the sight of the abandoned hospital–the location where the S-grade assigned to the both of you curse lies hidden. “Harsh.”

The lady in the front trembles as she inputs the data for the two of you. Her eyes scan Gojo’s wide grin and your blank expression that seems even more menacing with the red splatters on your clothes. You blink, tilting your head. “It’s not my blood,” you try to reassure her but that only seems to worsen her fear.

“R-Right!” She squeaks. “One room for Mr. Gojo, correct?”

Gojo nods with a hum, taking the keycard from the lady’s trembling hands. He gestures for you to follow him, walking with so much bravado that any onlooker doesn’t even question the bloodied state of your uniform. “You should’ve been more careful,” he says. “You made a mess.”

“Not everyone has infinity you know?” You mumble, following him into the hotel suite. Your eyes scan the seemingly fancy interior and furniture, not paying much attention until your eyes lock onto an unmistakable sight.

“‘Toru. Why is there only one bed?”

His disinterested hum only serves to make you grow more baffled. He shrugs off his jacket, cracking his neck with a hum. “That’s odd. I could’ve sworn I said two beds. The lady must’ve messed up seeing you all bloodied up. Must’ve scared her real bad huh?”

You’re almost certain that this predicament has brought you more stress than any mission you’ve been sent. And you’re amazed–no bewildered, that Gojo’s not even batting an eye at this.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re getting all shy now that you’re sharing a bed with your husband.”

“We’ve never done that before!” You squeak out, dropping your bags on the floor.

That was partially his fault, he thinks. Even so, he keeps his mouth shut. “You have any extra clothes you can wear?”

Even in your frenzied state, you still process the question, blinking in recognition. “No…”

He shrugs. “Then you can wear my shirt,” he points to the white button-up. “Might be gross but it’s better than nothing right? Besides that makes us even now. I got to see you shirtless when—”

“‘Toru!”

He grins an easy-going smile. “Ya know if you’re not comfortable with sleeping on the same bed as me, I can always sleep on the couc–”

“No!” You say a bit too quickly, straightening yourself out when he raises a curious brow. “No I mean like, I don’t mind that much. Besides, I don’t want you to hurt your back on the couch…”

“That’s the only reason?” He smiles and it’s not hard to realize he’s teasing you.

You nod, resolute despite your sweating palms. “Yes.”

“Then…” he shrugs. “You can take a shower first. I’ll leave the shirt near the door. Promise I won’t look. Unless you want me to.”

You can only give another nod, shooting a glare at his shit-eating grin. You take off to the showers, clasping a hand over your mouth as you silently scream in embarrassment. The warm water makes your skin feel hotter to touch and you only try your hardest not to dwell on the details. It’s just a night on the same bed together. Nothing more, nothing less.

You wish you could have kept that confidence huddled in your blankets–watching your snow-haired husband crawl into bed. You try not to linger on his bare torso for too long to be considered healthy and have to physically restrain yourself from jumping when his hand grazes your thigh.

He’s not wearing his blindfold or shades, meaning you can really see how his eyes watch your every move in interest. He leans closer, making you bite a squeak down. “You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Huh? Oh yeah,” you laugh awkwardly, throwing the fabric off your body for him. Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a favorite art piece but you in his shirt might just take the spot. He licks his lips, seeing how you unbuttoned a few buttons near the collar for more room–how you avoided his gaze. Cute, he thinks.

He raises a brow when you lay on your side, covering yourself in the blankets until you’re a heap of fabric. His lips twitches into a smile when he sees the way you curl up into yourself. Then again, he chooses not to mention it when he feels himself growing drowsy.

You’re not sure how much time passes but you can hear Gojo’s gentle breathing fill the room. You bring a hand to your legs, trying to ease away the goosebumps forming on your skin. At first, you assumed they were from nerves but now, you’re almost certain it’s because the hotel’s blasting the AC. And oddly enough, Gojo seems completely unaffected, even able to sleep peacefully.

You sigh, turning to face him. You’ve always known your husband was an attractive man but it’s not fair for him to look so good even while sleeping. His lashes are long and you find yourself staring a bit too long at his lips. Again, your mind drift to the moment when he pressed those same lips to your forehead and instead of being filled with embarrassment, you’re filled with a feeling that squeezes at your heart.

Subconsciously, you’re reaching for his face, grazing a finger down his cheekbones to the corner of his lips. His skin is smooth against your touch and you’re almost jealous that his skin was perfect too. You continue to map your way to his jawline, mesmerized at the sight.

“Enjoying the view?” He mumbles, his eyes closed though a smile crosses his face. You’re about to retrace your hand away from his face but he’s quick to clasp one around your wrist. You nearly squeak when he leans closer to your palm, his eyes finally opening to peer into yours. “Eyeing me when I’m asleep? I didn’t know you were such a per—“

“I’m not!” You yelp, snatching your wrist away from you him with a flushed face.

He hums, propping himself on his elbow to watch you. “Hm? Now you getting all embarrassed on me after you felt me up?”

“I did not feel you up.”

He merely shrugs with a grin. “It’s all good. I think you’re pretty cute too.”

You didn’t know it was possible to be this flustered until you shared a bed with Gojo. “I only touched you because I was cold!”

That wasn’t entirely a lie either. When you felt Gojo’s face, his skin was warm under your touch and you wondered if the rest of him was like that. Naturally, you refrained from thinking even further or else you really wouldn’t sleep a wink.

To your surprise, you feel see him pat the spot besides him. Your lips fall apart as you continue to stare. He only shrugs with a lazy smirk. “What? A husband has to make sure his wife’s comfortable right?”

It’s hard to say no when you feel the cool air of the AC bite into your skin—your limbs trembling. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, sighing as you scootched closer to him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your frame closer until you’re against his torso.

You try not to dwell on the fact that you can feel how his muscles move against your shirt—or rather his shirt; how he nuzzled his face in your neck, breathing in your scent that this scene felt so naturally domestic.

You squirm in his embrace, shifting your hips around to find a more comfortable position. His arms immediately squeeze you tighter, making you squeak. “Stay still,” he says lowly against your ear.

“You’re holding me too tight,” you whine, wiggling your hips again. This time, his hand squeezes your hip.

“Yeah? Well if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll have another problem to deal with.”

“What—“ You say before the realization hits you and you’re left spluttering like an idiot. Your head turns to face him and you immediately regret it.

His blues bore into yours and you see how his lips twitch as if trying to hold back a laugh. “I—“ You start, turning away from him with your stomach doing flips. “Okay,” you squeak, clenching your eyes shut at your response.

He only grunts in response, spooning you with his chin atop of your head. Minutes pass and you relax in his arms. “‘Toru?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you being so nice to me right now? I thought you hated me?”

“What?” For the first time, he sounds awake. He leans up so you can see his hues peering down at you. You watch bemused as a tortured expression crosses his face for a second. “(Name), I don’t hate you. I never hated you.”

Your bewilderment grows. “But you…you never talked to me.”

He smooths a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I don’t have some regrets about that.”

It’s the same like last time, when the two of you were in the kitchen. He’s looking at you so tenderly that you can’t bring yourself to look away. “I care for you,” he continues, trying to pick his words thoughtfully. “Much more than I want to.”

He still peers down at you, so close that you almost think he’s about to lean in for a kiss. You observe him with a wide-eyed look, only letting out a little gasp when you feel his lips press against your forehead again—the feeling familiar to you. Gojo resumes his cuddling shortly after, squeezing your hip once more. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You widen your eyes, remaining silent. You’re at a list of words, momentarily left speechless. Even so, you reach down to press a hand over his on your hip, squeezing it lightly. “I know.”

Gojo thinks he sleeps the best when you’re besides him. You’re soft against him, fitting perfectly in between his arms. He thinks, there’s no way he was going to let this moment pass—and he was a man who kept true to his wishes. The next time he was going to sleep in his house, he was going to do it with you by his side.

BONUS:

“‘Toru…”

“What is it again?” He grumbles, though there’s no bite in his tone.

“Why couldn’t we just teleport home instead of going to a hotel?”

A brief silence follows.

“Go to sleep.”

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #fluff #arranged marriage #gojo’s wife series

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norrizzandpia · 5 months

Note

i am Politely Asking for the lando post-race imagine you mentioned 👀👀👀

Your guys’ wish is my command 🤭

All He Needed Was Her (LN4)

Summary: Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

Warnings: a panic attack, inferences of death, Lando crashing

Note: that crash was so hard to watch and i still have not recovered

Silence encompassed the space around her, her mind sick with the images of Lando’s crash. What she thought could potentially be his first race win had turned into her worst nightmare as Lando’s car laid smashed against the protecting fences. Her mouth stayed agape as she listened to her boyfriend’s broken “I’m ok,” followed by concerning whimpers and groans. Her eyes frantically searched the room, the faces of his loved ones burned into her brain with their watery eyes and panicked looks. She couldn’t bear the tension within the space, the expressions of the people around her like he had died. The room closed in on her quickly, allowing for no space to breathe or get out of the anxiety filling her lungs. She felt trapped, a panic attack coming on inevitably when she saw the way his hand shook, his arms trying to push himself out of the car yet failing continuously.

She shoved the headset off her ears, shutting out the taunting sounds, before throwing herself into the crowd behind her and pushing them to the side as she tried desperately to claw herself out. She couldn’t turn her head back to see the screens, not even when applauding emitted and a good sign emerged. Y/n reached the door, her hand grasping the handle and hesitating. A large hand grasping her shoulder called her back, willing her to open her eyes and see the survival of her love. When she turned around, her eyes looking up, she was met with the soft look of Adam, Lando’s father.

No matter how comforting he was trying to be, his bloodshot eyes reminded her of the risks her boyfriend took, the chances of him not getting out of that car after a race.

It was too much.

Her heart beat out of her chest and she struggled to find air, her impending anxiety surely, gradually, painfully encroaching her being.

Adam, being familiar with the anxiety attacks his son got, saw the signs, opening the door behind her quickly and shoving her into the empty hallway. His hands landed on her biceps, gripping them as he shook her gently.

“Y/n?” His voice was distant and Y/n wanted to run toward it, however nothing was ever that easy.

He tried again, “Y/n, breathe with me.”

Her mind understood, her lungs expanding shortly as he began to inhale. Tears seeped through the crack of her lips, adding to the drowning she felt she was enduring.

She blubbered and sobbed as she tried to follow his pattern, proving difficult when suffocation seemed probable.

Nevertheless, Adam’s determination triumphed, her mind slowing down as her body caught up.

He looked at her with pity as she came down, his eyes swimming in a certain sympathy she didn’t recognize. This was deeper, he was seeing the pain she was bearing, relating to it because of the exact connection they both nurtured with the boy.

His hands left her arms, stilling at his sides as he began to coax her toward his driver’s room, “How about you rest for a while? That seemed really bad.”

She shook her head immediately, “No, I need to be awake for Lando. What if he needs to go to the hospital?”

Adam closed his eyes as he nudged her into the small room, “Then, I will come wake you. But, for now, he’s going to go to the circuit’s medical center and there’s nothing we can do. It’s best if you allow yourself to relax after that.”

She knew he was right, more so because he sounded exactly like his son. When she had these horrid experiences, Lando was right beside her immediately, gently leading her to any surface where she could lie down. He knew exactly how to make it go away, she never expected to have to do it without him or because of him. He was consistently advocating for her rest after an attack, something that always helped her recover more quickly.

That memory, those habitual instances, persuaded her to give in to Adam’s pleas. He smiled at her as she brought a blanket over her body, Lando’s scent encompassing her body.

“I promise I’ll be back when I have updates.”

She nodded, trusting him like she had for the past few years, “Okay, thank you.”

He closed the door with a nod, the dark haunting her enough to close her eyes and lean into the quiet, peaceful embrace of sleep.

—

She was awoken by shaking, more specifically Adam’s hands shaking her upper body.

“Y/n, wake up.” He whispered, his words guiding her back to the world.

Her eyes fluttered open, “Yeah?”

He seemed stoic, rigid and stressed, something that made Y/n truly wake up, “Lando’s at the hospital. They said we can meet him there.”

She shot up from her laid down position, “What?! The hospital?! Is he okay?!”

His father sighed beside her, getting up and showing how antsy he was to move when he lingered by the door, “I don’t know.”

—

The pair burst through the doors of the hospital, launching themselves at the nurses who sat behind the desk. Their words mixed together as they sputtered out his name, occupation, and situation. This proved to be inefficient because the women looked back at them blankly.

Y/n tried again, “We are here to see Lando Norris. He is a Formula 1 driver and he was involved in an accident.”

It dawns on the employee and her head tilts slightly, “I can’t give out information on him because of his status and occupation. I am sorry. Unless you can prove you are family to him then I can’t give you anything.”

Adam’s hand flew to his pocket, whipping out his wallet and showing her his identification, proving his blood relation to Lando. Y/n watched with a heavy heart as she realized she had nothing to show, she wasn’t family. She was crushed as she realized he would be able to go on to see their boy without her.

When the woman gave him the room number, she gave it to him on paper so as to deter anyone overhearing, he bolted. He was right at the door that led to another hallway when he stopped and turned around, motions for Y/n to follow him.

“I need to see your proof of family relations.” The nurse beside her said expectantly whilst Adam moved back over to the desk.

She shook her head, “I’m his girlfriend. I don’t have proof of blood relations.”

The nurse shrugged, “Then, I’m sorry, I can’t have you go through.”

Y/n opened her mouth to fight back, but Adam interrupted her, “No, she has to. I’ve just shown you I’m his father, take my word for it. Please. My son needs her right now.”

The nurse seemed to be at a crossroads as her gaze flickered between Adam and Y/n. Finally, she nodded curtly and the two were running throughout the building. Down different hallways within the floor, they quickly reached his room. Without thinking, Adam charged in, a strong wave of emotion hitting him when he saw his son wrapped up in a hospital bed.

“Lando,” He sighed, arms falling around Lando’s body as he squeezed him softly, careful with him.

“Hi, dad. Thank you for coming. I’m sorry if I scared you.” He mumbled into his shoulder, hand laying loosely over the back of his father.

Y/n watched from the corner, tears pricking the sides of her eyes at the sight of him. She watched as they pulled back, Lando’s eyes meeting hers and softening with relief before Adam was coughing and excusing himself from the room.

When they were left alone, she walked slowly to him. She stood in front of him for a moment, both individuals taking in the other after the traumatic time apart. When he had had enough of not holding her in his arms, Lando reached out and pulled her closer to his body, arms linking around her hips as he stuffed his face into her chest. She breathed out as her hands tangled in his hair, both of them memorizing the way the other calmed them in such a state.

He clung to her, breathing steady as she whispered sweet, quiet words of love and encouragement to him.

“Sit with me?” He asked with a low volume, pulling back slightly and looking up at her.

She could never say no to his deep green eyes, “Always.”

He shifted to the side as she slid in next to him. She watched the way his eyes lingered over her lap. Chuckling, Y/n sat further against the wall, “Lay your head on my lap, baby.”

He smiled at her brightly, a childlike grin as he shuffled down and set his curly hair over her pants.

A silence passed before she was whispering again, “I love you so much. It was so scary seeing you crash today and I just could not live a life without you. I love you, Lan. You’ve ruined my life for the better. There’s no way I could ever go a day without you.”

He nodded below her, “I can’t either. I kept asking for you when I was at the circuit after the crash, but they kept telling me I couldn’t have any visitors with the impact I had just endured. I was so angry, all I wanted was you. I’ve been like a sitting duck as I stared at the wall and waited for you to arrive. But, now that you’re here, I already feel like I’m getting better. That’s your impact on me. I love you too, love. Being without you for that was worse than the crash itself.”

She looked down at him, leaning over to kiss his temple. When he felt the pressure, he turned his head. She had been pulling back, but got the hint when he looked up at her expectantly. He giggled as she leaned back down, meeting his lips with her own in an intimate, soft kiss.

When they pulled back, she watched his eyes slowly close when she began massaging his scalp and tugging gently at his brown hair. He moaned quietly at the feeling, stroking his hand over her leg as she comforted him with just her presence.

He buried his face further into her lap, breathing her in. By the change of angle, she lost sight of his face, only relying on the monitor to tell her he had fallen asleep when it evened out, reaching a rhythm.

Only then did Adam return, smiling lightly at his sleeping son laying in the lap of his girlfriend. Truly the sweetest sight, he thought, something he would’ve taken a picture of had Y/n been asleep as well.

He sat in the chair beside them, cocking his head at her.

“Thank you.”

The two words caused Y/n’s eyebrows to draw together, confusion etched into her face, “For what?”

Adam sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “For being there for him. Not just now, but all the time. He’s always put everyone else first. He’s always made it the biggest priority to make others feel good when he wasn’t at all. Cisca and I always wished for someone to come along and take care of him right back. Turns out our wishing wasn’t in vain. Here you are and he’s finally understanding what it’s like to be loved that way.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, eyes averting back to her sleeping boyfriend strewn across her lap, before choking out, “Thank you, Adam. That means the world from you.”

“Just speaking the truth.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair before kicking his legs up toward the end of the bed. He watched her lean her head back, scumming to sleep just like Lando, her hands still buried in his hair.

That was when he took the picture, sending it to the Norris Family group chat, it including Y/n, and assuring the members of Lando’s wellness.

Adam (2:35 AM)

Image Attachment

Adam (2:35 AM)

Lando’s okay! Don’t worry! All he needed was some medication to calm his nerves and Y/n 🧡

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagines #mclaren formula 1 #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris fic #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #las vegas gp 2023

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ja3yun · 29 days

Text

Red Ocean | P.JS

vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!

Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.

It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.

But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.

Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.

It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.

“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.

Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.

The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.

Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.

Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.

“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”

The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.

Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being?

Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.

Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.

Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.

Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.

“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.

Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.

“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”

Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.

"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.

Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."

Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."

Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.

_____

Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him.

His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.

Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.

The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk.

His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.

She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.

As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.

"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.

He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.

With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.

Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.

There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.

He has to tread carefully here.

The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.

Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.

The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"

Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.

"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."

The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.

The password.

How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.

"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.

As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.

"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.

With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.

Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.

But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.

As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.

"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars.

Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.

He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.

Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.

_____

As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?

Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.

Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.

As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.

“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness.

"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.

Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.

Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.

The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?

More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.

“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.

The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.

As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.

He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?

“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward.

As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.

Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.

As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

This is going to be a fun night.

"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"

As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.

Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.

Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.

Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.

"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.

You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"

Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.

Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.

One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.

Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”

You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.

If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.

You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room, the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure.

The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.

In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.

To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.

But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.

Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.

The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.

"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.

But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."

You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups.

“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him.

To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.

"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"

With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.

Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.

"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."

It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.

“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.

Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”

As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.

"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."

As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.

Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration.

It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.

You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.

Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.

As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?

Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.

His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.

You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.

Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.

Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.

Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.

But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."

Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.

Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.

Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.

In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.

Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further.

You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”

Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”

He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.

You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.

Maybe he was full of surprises.

Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.

Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position.

You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.

His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you.

Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.

Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”

If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.

Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need.

Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.

You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls.

“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.

You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.

Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it.

With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.

You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.

Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.

Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.

With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.

Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly.

You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again.

The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.

Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.

With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.

Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.

You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.

“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.

As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.

Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.

With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.

He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely.

“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.

As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”

His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.

With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.

"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.

A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.

In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.

"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.

Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.

“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much.

He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”

It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.

No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.

Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary.

Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.

“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.

“You will, they always do.”

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #park jongseong smut #aj writes

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skzstannie · 4 months

Text

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort #part 1/2

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harryspet · 5 months

Text

bambi eyes (2) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 4.7k

In which you've been a good girl and your Daddy Rafe can't get enough of you.

main masterlist

bambi eyes masterlist

When you opened your eyes the following day, you could still feel Rafe all over you. All at the same time, you felt him inside of you, his mouth kissing your lips, and the bed dipping beside you when he pressed his weight into you. When you slowly realized he wasn’t in bed with you anymore, part of you felt you might have imagined last night. You’d never truly enjoyed being with men, and last night, you felt closeness for the first time. Perhaps it was the combination of all the gifts and the attention he had provided you yesterday.

You still couldn’t quite rap the idea around your head that you were the first and maybe only girl he had done this with. How long was he planning on keeping you here?

The digital clock sitting on the nightstand read exactly 8:00, and you took it as a cue to get out of bed. As you made up the bed, your mind again wandered back to last night. You imagined he left as soon as you fell asleep, and you’d let yourself get so comfortable that you hadn’t even noticed.

You stared at the doorknob for a short while. It would be locked, you knew that, but what if it wasn’t — it didn’t matter.

Before he left, you noticed he left you an outfit hanging on the armoire. He’d picked out a matching set of light pink leggings and a matching top. He also picked out a pair of socks that had little, tiny bunnies on them and lacy, white underwear. You brought the clothes with you to the bathroom, your fingers caressing the soft fabric of the clothing. You didn’t recognize brand, sure that it was popular with American girls.

You went through your morning routine, one that Rafe had laid out yesterday, and you found yourself having fun. You brushed your teeth as you ran your bath. There were a million bath products, and you spent a few minutes opening and smelling all of them. You settled on something sweet and flowery, and soon the aroma was spreading throughout the entire bathroom.

You settled in the water with the bubbles enveloping you.

You almost settled into a moment of peacefulness until you heard your bedroom door unlock. Wearing a nice plaid shirt and khaki pants, Rafe entered your small sanctuary. You sat up in the water, worried that you’d been taking too long. His eyes were soft and unthreatening, and you let yourself rest again. He took a seat on the edge of the tub, looking down at you, “Enjoying yourself?”

You nodded, “It’s nice. Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” He smiled, “You did good. Last night, I mean.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have some exciting plans for us,” He stated before he reached into his pocket, “Here, I need you to take this.”

He placed a small white pill in your hand. You watched as he made his way over to the sink, filling up a cup of water and bringing it to you.

“What is it for?”

“It’s, uhm, so you don’t get pregnant,” Oh. You placed the pill on your tongue, washing it down with the liquid, “I got a little ahead of myself last night. That’s why I’m going to have a doctor check you out today.”

“I’m going to the hospital?”

“No. Dr. Watts makes house calls. And he’ll be here in thirty minutes. I’ll come back and get ya’, yeah?”

“Okay,” You agreed, slightly worried that Rafe thought you needed to be seen by a doctor.

Rafe moved to leave but stopped in the doorway, “Don’t worry, there will be time for little Rafe’s and Bambi’s. Just not yet.”

You nodded, conveying your understanding, but in reality, you didn’t understand how he could know he wanted that with you, even in the future. After he left the room, you realized your fingers were beginning to wrinkle. You reached down to drain the water from the tub, deciding your next pressing issue was how you’d do your hair.

There was a vanity made into the sink countertop with a place underneath for a chair to fit. You pulled it out and made yourself comfortable, looking closely through all of the drawers. You find lots of hair accessories, makeup, and other beauty products. You picked some things out that wouldn’t require a full tutorial for you to use. You also chose two pink bows to tie to the ends of your braids, taking a guess that Rafe might like that you match your outfit.

According to Rafe, Figure 8 had a lot of these places called country clubs, and you wondered what sort of things people wore to places like that. Surely, Rafe would make sure you wouldn’t feel out of place there. If you fully earned his trust, if you continued to be good, you could probably have a normal life here. People were happy here, especially the ones that called themselves Kooks.

The leggings fit you well, grabbing onto your curves, and the cropped pink top also fit you snuggly.

Outside the window, you could see boats riding by in the distance and large birds that stood by the water, wading and looking for fish. You could already tell his home was large, just from the view from your room, making you curious about the rest of the house. As if he was able to read your mind, Rafe appeared again, holding the door propped open, “Let me show you the rest of Tannyhill, Bambi.”

You straightened, trying not to seem too eager as you approached the door. As you grazed past you, he rested a hand on your hip, rubbing his palm against your bottom. You looked down a long hallway with lots of old paintings and elegant-looking fixtures. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, “This is my room,” Rafe opened double doors, and you peeked inside to see a large dark wood canopy bed.

He didn’t show you every room; in fact, he seemed to ignore one specifically. Your eyes widened when he brought you out onto a huge patio that overlooked an even more ginormous green lawn.

“All of this is–”

“Yeah,” He finished your sentence for you, “Anyone would be happy here, right?”

“Yes,” You agreed quickly, which seemed to please him. He grabbed your hand in response, holding it and caressing your thumb with his own larger one. Although you could tell the seasons were changing, the weather felt nice, and there was a constant breeze flowing and relieving you from the heat of the sun.

He gave you time to take in the scenery but five minutes later, you both could see a car coming down the horseshoe-shaped driveway, “That’s Dr. Watts. You ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You didn’t have much of experience with doctors but you knew already you must not be a good patient. You struggled with almost every answer that Dr. Watts asked you and, at some point, he started directing all of his questions towards Rafe.

When was your last period? What kinds of birth control have you used? Have you ever had something called a pap smear? Do you have any allergies? What’s your family’s medical history?

“I gave her a Plan B this morning, just to be safe.”

You found yourself just trying to keep up with the conversation they were having. At some points, you found the view outside more interesting, “There are small procedures we can do. An IUD can be placed inside the uterus, an implant can be placed inside the arm, or there is the traditional birth control pill. Right now, I can give her a shot that will prevent pregnancy for the next 3 months.”

You were sat where Rafe had placed you, on a stool in the middle of the massive kitchen.

Dr. Watts didn’t look like what you imagined a doctor would look like. He didn’t wear a white coat; in fact, he was dressed very casually in shorts and a button-up. He also brought all the things he needed in a briefcase.

“That’s fine,” Rafe agreed, his arms crossed.

“Alright, so after that shot, we’ll do a couple of vaccination shots. And then I’ll take some blood for testing.”

Dr. Watts had several syringes laid out on the kitchen island, picking up the first one after washing his hands and putting on some gloves. Rafe grabbed ahold of your hand again, his eyes commanding you to look at him, “This is just to make sure you’re healthy. It won’t feel good, but it’s not a punishment.”

“Okay,” You said, although your heart was pounding, and you already felt tears in your eyes.

“I’m right here; squeeze my hand,” He said, pushing your hair back as he gazed over your face. On your other side, Dr. Watts lifted the sleeve of your shirt. The first shot was to your upper arm, and the pinch made you squeeze your eyes tight, but it was over relatively quickly, “You’re doing so good, sweet girl. What do you think about ice cream for breakfast?”

You opened your eyes, and the calmness in his eyes was a signal to you that everything was okay, “Lana has the day off, but I can make an ice cream sundae. We’ve got everything, whip cream, cherries, chocolate sprinkles. What do you think?”

Rafe made you talk through the next few shots and when the doctor had to draw your blood, and he wiped your tears when you were all done.

“That wasn’t so bad. I’ll walk Dr. Watts out, and we’ll make some ice cream.”

Rafe noticed you seemed almost disappointed when he led you back to your room after your ice cream feast. He liked showing you around your new home and the place he grew up, but he wasn’t quite ready to unhook your leash. You were safest in his home and even safer within these four walls.

Rafe took a seat at the edge of the bed, his hand still intertwined with yours, “How does your arm feel, Bambi?”

“A little sore,” You answered, although Rafe could tell by your eyes that it was worse than what you were portraying. He pulled you gently forward, encouraging you to straddle his lap.

“Poor thing,” Rafe said, his voice becoming even more raspy as he felt your closeness, “But hey, you did so well. You know, I’m really happy with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re a good little girl. I can tell that you appreciate everything that I’ve done.”

“I-I do,” You replied quickly, making Rafe smirk.

“And you understand that I’m in control … I mean, it’s only fair. Who knows what would have happened if I left you with that man, with those people,” You nodded at his words, and negative thoughts of his father, Sarah, and his evil stepmother started to enter his thoughts, “I’m giving you the perfect life, the happy home that I never got. Whatever, I won’t get fucking mopey, but just know after all that I’ve been through, I know how to lead a family properly.”

He stopped his mind from wandering to darker places and grabbed ahold of your hips, “Thank you for … taking me away.”

“I had to,” Rafe leaned in to kiss your neck, “You’re mine now. Only mine.”

He loved that he could smell the perfume he picked out for you and feel you in the clothes he bought for you. He took so much care in creating this paradise for you.

“Daddy’s going to make you feel better,” Rafe said in your ear, “I have to taste you. You want Daddy to taste your pretty pussy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Tell me,” Rafe commanded, squeezing your ass with his large hands.

“I want you to taste me, Daddy.”

“Good girl, don’t be nervous,” Rafe praised, wrapping an arm around your lower back before he swiftly turned you over, placing you gently against the bed, “I’ll be gentle, just how I was last night. Not going to fill you up, just want to taste you.”

You were quite helpless with your arm being so sore, Rafe could tell you were struggling to move it. He thought of tying you down, of course, when you felt better. He took his time with your leggings, still excited as ever to see more of you. He spread your legs, kissing your center through the fabric of your panties. Wrapping his arms underneath you, he pulled you into him, letting your thighs warm his face. He kissed you like this for a while, teasing you, making you squirm when he kissed your inner thigh. Not able to wait any longer, Rafe pulled your thin panties to the side, “There’s Daddy’s pretty little pussy,” He kissed your clit first, and the next sounds out of his mouth were guttural as he took you into his mouth.

You tasted divine, sweet like he always called you. Rafe became relentless, waiting until you were close to your peak before he pulled away. Heavy breaths fanned over your sensitive area, and you whined because of the lack of friction, “You liked that, didn’t you, Bambi?”

“Yes, i-it feels good, Daddy,” You responded, slightly embarrassed by how quickly you got worked up.

“Should I keep going? Does my little girl want to cum? Go ahead and ask Daddy. Tell me what you want.”

“Can you please make me cum, Daddy?” Rafe could tell in your tone of voice that maybe you weren’t sure what you asking. He hadn’t considered that you might not know what an orgasm felt like.

“Yes, Bambi, of course. Talk through it; tell me what it feels like, sweet girl,” After those words, Rafe held you even tighter and dipped his head down again. He pressed his tongue into you, waiting to find that spot that seemed to make you cry out before he focused all the pressure there.

“It feels …it feels–” You gasped, “It’s too much, it’s too much–” Rafe took your scattered words and cries of pleasure as a good sign to keep adding pressure. When you tried to pull away from him, Rafe knew you were having an orgasm, but he kept you there, “It’s too much, Daddy!”

Rafe pulled away, giving your clit a short break, but soon he was replacing his mouth with his fingers. Rafe shushed you, “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” He pushed two fingers in and out of you, curling them up to find the right spot. For Rafe, the best thing about being with a woman was being able to watch them have multiple orgasms in a row. This time, he’d only make you have two, but he’d soon find out what your limit was, “One more. Just give me one more.”

Rafe started sucking your clit as he moved his fingers, “Please, please,” You wouldn’t beg him to stop; you were too much of a good girl. He knew what you needed and wouldn’t let you run from it.

He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. Rafe entangled himself from your legs, needing to see your face. You looked so cute trying to catch your breath and with your face scrunched up. Rafe brought his hands over his mouth, wiping away the wetness, “That’s my girl.”

A few days passed in your new room. Sometimes it crossed your mind to ask Rafe when you’d be able to walk around the house or when you’d get to go outside, but you stopped yourself every time. You thought you should be more grateful towards him, he’d provided you with so many things, and he was much kinder than any man you’d ever met. He was handsome, too, with blue eyes that often made it hard for you to think when you looked into them.

Every day was similar; there were no more visitors like Dr. Watts, and you completed your routine exactly like Rafe had instructed. Usually, you’d share all of your meals, and Rafe would leave in between for work. You got more comfortable in your own company. At first, playing with the toys felt silly, like the activities were meant for someone much younger. Slowly, it started to feel like satisfying a part of you that hadn’t existed in a long while.

Today, you had several coloring books laid out on the ground in front of your bed, and you’d spent most of the day coloring. You liked having your dolls set up nearby so, of course, they could see your work, “What do you think, Molly?” You’d spend hours by yourself, and it started feeling natural to talk to them, “Red or blue for the spots … Blue? You’re right; blue would be perfect.”

Rafe returned to you before dinner but you noticed he hadn’t brought a tray of food like he usually did. Instead, he was carrying a large cardboard box, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” He set it down on the carpet nearby you, his face lit up with excitement. You set down your marker, crawling on your knees towards the box. Rafe kneeled down with you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a soft kiss, “You’ve been so damn good your first week; something came for you in the mail.”

You looked at him, baffled, “I don’t know what it could be.”

“Open it,” He winked at you.

Cautiously, you pulled open the flaps of the cardboard and then reached into the mountain of packing peanuts. You pulled out a long box, immediately recognizing a doll's face, but one that looked very similar to you. It was the right skin tone and had the same curls that you did, “Really? For me?” You placed the box on the ground, just admiring her face.

“Yeah, why should you have to play with my sister’s old things?” Rafe opened up the box even further, and you could see she was dressed in a beautiful floral gown. It was a cream color with pretty blue flowers, puffy sleeves, and an even flouncier skirt.

“She’s so pretty … and the dress is…,” You said, unable to take your eyes off of her, “You didn’t have to; I really do like the other dolls–”

“I wanted to,” Rafe insisted, “And that’s not it. There’s something else.”

When you reached back inside the box, you felt the top of a hanger. You pulled out a clear garment bag and inside was the exact replica of the dress your new doll was wearing, and it looked your size, “For you to wear to dinner,” Rafe explained after you stared speechless, “Which, for tonight, will be served in the dining room.”

“We’ll be matching,” You thought out loud, next picking up the doll from the packaging.

“She’s welcome to dinner if you want to bring her. She’s completely yours. You can name her and everything,” Rafe said, gently grabbing ahold of your chin, “I want to see you in your new dress, though.”

“Yes, Daddy,” You agreed, standing with both the doll and dress in hand, “If I’m Bambi, maybe she can be …Bunny?”

“That’s a cute name, sweet girl,” Rafe agreed, clapping his hands together, “Run along, I want to be surprised.”

Excitetely, you padded over to the bathroom. When you put the dress on, you were surprised by how similar they were, down to the placement of the flowers, although yours fit much shorter than your dolls. When you stepped back into the room with Bunny in your hands, you smoothed down the back of your dress so it would fully cover your bottom. Rafe’s eyes seemed to light up at the sight, and you did a small spin for him.

“Wow, don’t you two look precious.”

His eyes looked hungry, although you could tell he wasn’t thinking about tonight’s dinner.

For the first time in several days, you left your room, one hand tucking Bunny close to your body and your other hand intertwined with Rafe’s. The lights around the house were dim and Rafe led you to down a long hallway to a candlelit room. Although the long dining room had twelve chairs, only two places were set. Rafe pulled back the chair right next to the head of the table, and you initially missed his cue for you to sit as your eyes looked all over the room until he tapped your bottom. Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but you still took your seat.

In front of you was a delicious-smelling plate of steak with a red sauce, small potatoes, and carrots. There was also a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, one made of cream and light purple flowers, “You look fucking beautiful, princess,” Rafe whistled, taking his place at the head of the table, “Like a fucking painting or something.”

Rafe’s words made you smile, and his compliments often made you feel overwhelmed. You weren’t used to someone taking notice of your appearance outside of sex, and when he looked at you, he looked at you as a whole, “Thank you, Daddy,” The words were starting to feel natural on your tongue, “It looks very nice in here, and the food looks delicious.”

“You ever been on a date before?” Rafe asked, pouring something fizzy into your wine glass. You shook your head in response, “Usually, you share a meal or do an activity together; meanwhile, you’re getting to know the other person. You’re lucky you don’t have to go on a million bad dates before you’ve found the right person.”

“What makes a date bad?” You asked.

You moved to pick up your knife but paused when Rafe grabbed ahold of it first. He took you for as well and began cutting your steak into smaller pieces, “For me, girls have always wanted … things from me. Superficial things. You think they’re listening to you when you’re pouring your heart out …but really just thinking about how they’re gonna get what they want from you.”

You frowned, squeezing Bunny closer to your stomach, “That sounds horrible.”

When Rafe handed you your fork, you assumed you could begin to eat.

Rafe nodded his head, taking a swig of brown liquor from his glass, “I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“Will your sister ever come to visit?” If the purpose of a date was to get to know the other person, you thought you could get some curiosities you had off your mind.

“I have two sisters. Wheezie, she’ll probably come visit at some point, uhm but my other sister probably won’t. She’s not really welcome, anyways,” Rafe answered, poking at food on his plate, “Wheezie, though, I’m sure she’ll like you.”

Your lips pulled into a small smile, “I’ve always wanted siblings. I had some friends in the other girls, but Mas-” You stopped yourself, “We weren’t really supposed to like each other.”

“Blood doesn’t really mean anything. You should be able to choose your family,” Rafe said, “What matters is who’s loyal to you, you know?

You agreed, although you weren’t sure you really knew what loyalty felt like. As you were finishing up dinner, a loud knocking interrupted one of Rafe’s stories. Rafe seemed more caught off guard than even you were, fumbling to pull out his phone and check something, “Shit,” he cursed, “C’mon, Daddy’s got to handle some business.”

Rafe grabbed your arm as he pulled you from the dining room. He brought you to the stairs, “Go upstairs, close your door, and wait for me,” You tried to glance out the window panes by the front door but couldn’t get a glimpse of who was there, “Go.”

The strict tone in his voice made you hurry up the stairs, although once you were at the top, you ducked down and crouched behind the banister. You watched Rafe open the door, and a shorter, dark-haired man pushed his way inside, “What’s so fucking urgent that you’re showing up without calling?” You heard Rafe ask.

“Don’t you look fancy,” The other man commented, “Having a dinner party without me?”

“Dude, what is it?” Rafe sounded impatient.

“It’s Maybank. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have some important shit to tell you.”

“Fine, come to my office.”

Their voices faded away as they moved further into the house. You debated sneaking back down and eavesdropping, but you looked down at Bunny, her face reminding you to be good. You wandered back to your room, and like Rafe told you to, you closed the door behind you.

He was occupied for an hour before he returned to your room. Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out a sigh, “Sorry about that,” Rafe said, taking a spot next to you on the bed.

“Who was it?” You asked quietly.

Rafe hesitated, “... a business associate of mine. I got some bad news. I’ll probably be gone most of the day tomorrow.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“You still need time to adjust,” He looked down at you, “It isn’t something you’ll want to see anyways. My work is nothing a little girl like you should be involved in. I won’t let you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m sorry …”

“I’m not mad at you,” Rafe grabbed ahold of your chin, “Before if I had gotten news like that …man, I would’ve lost my shit. But I have you, and just looking at you makes me feel better.”

His hand moved to your throat, squeezing as he kissed your lips, “I want to fuck you so bad in that cute little dress.”

You struggled to get a breath, his tongue exploring your mouth as he tightened his grip around your neck. Instinctively, you grabbed ahold of his wrist, and he pushed you back onto the bed. Just as he released his grip and you were able to take in a full breath, Rafe grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over. His movements didn’t feel like they usually did; he was rough and desperate.

“Up on your knees,” He lifted up your waist and then lifted up the skirt of your dress, your face pressed into the bed, “Good girl, stay like that, spread open for me.”

You heard him spit before you felt him press a wet hand against your clit, rubbing, before coating your entrance. He was already hard, and he wasted no time pressing his length against your entrance. In this position, you felt him even deeper as he pushed inside of you, “Daddy,” You whimpered.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Rafe cooed, “I know you can take more. I know you can handle it.”

You squeezed the bed tightly as he moved faster and went just as deep. Rafe kept you from pulling away, holding your hips so tight you were sure they might bruise. Unmercifully, he rocked into you, only going harder when you felt yourself reaching your peak, “I’m cumming, Daddy,” You told him, your voice muffled by the fabric of the comforter, “I’m cumming.”

Rafe grabbed the back of your throat, pushing into you harder, “Cum baby, you’re squeezing me so fucking good,” Rafe panted, “Oh, Daddy’s gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”

You felt tears begin to fall, a swirl of emotions inside you. It hurt, him stretching you over and over, and yet you felt good at the same time. You were so happy to have a home with a new Master who actually cared for you and wanted to take care of you. You were still scared that you’d wake up tomorrow and you’d be back sleeping on cold, cement floors.

After Rafe finished, the tight grip he had changed to soft caresses. He softly rubbed your bottom before slowly pulling up the skirt of your dress, “Lay down, Bambi,” Although your muscles were sore, you crawled further onto the bed, laying down on your stomach. Rafe fell beside you, caressing your hair and then your tear-stained cheeks, “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you into a deep hug. Rafe rubbed your back until you thought you might fall asleep until you heard him say, “You won’t like it if you wake up in your dress. Let’s go brush our teeth and change into our jammies. Then Daddy will tuck you in, okay?”

Weakly, you nodded against his hard chest, “Okay, Daddy.”

part 3

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks #black!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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juniperskye · 23 days

Text

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him. They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

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natailiatulls07 · 2 months

Note

Could you please do the drivers reaction to driver reader bringing a boy to the race?

Formula one grid x female!driver!reader Male!OC x female!driver!reader

Summary - Being youngest on the grid meant that Y/n was heavily protected by many other drivers so when she gets a partner it's mixed emotions all around

Warning - Small anxiety

Reader drives for Mercedes

Part two

"Are you sure? I know that some of the fans can be a little crazy about my private life..." In the past few months, Y/n had started a relationship with a guy she matched with on tinder. Not many people knew of the relationship, only her family and her management team.

Although that would change today, it was the first race of the season and they had wanted to hard launch their relationship. Adam, her new partner, was a lawyer and had his own wealth behind him but he was really proud of Y/n and loved to support her.

He could tell how nervous she was, seeing how she kept fidgeting with her hair and teamwear. "Hey, it's okay. Plus if any thing happens and you have to take legal action, you have a great lawyer on your side" He would often use humour to calm down his f1 driver girlfriend, loved to bring even the smallest of smiles to her face.

Adam took hold her hand, stopping her from fidgeting so much and started to drag her to the paddock entrance where fans stood behind barriers waiting to catch a glimpse of a driver.

As they began to walk past the barriers, fans were shouting her name and some were asking questions about the man who held her hand. They both had proud and confident smiles painted on their faces, any anxiety seemingly disappeared.

"Y/n! Y/n! Is that your new partner?"

Nodding her head, Y/n stopped to sign some merch and greet some fans. "Yes, yeah he is. Meet Adam" Looking over her shoulder, she felt how Adam had his hands gently resting on her waist. They were both very big on pda.

Thankfully the fans had reacted well to the new face. Some softly threatening Adam not to hurt their favourite driver, which got a laugh out of Y/n and some fear out of Adam.

Soon they started toward the main entrance of the paddock, waving goodbye to the fans and individually scanning their passes. Yet as soon as Y/n set foot into the paddock, dread and anxiety plagued her mind once again.

Only now remembering that she'd have to introduce Adam to her fellow drivers, her adopted big brothers. If today weren't such an important day, she would've turned around and made her way home. Procrastinating the eventual doom.

As usual, the man still held her hand in his could sense her fear. And he knew exactly why. "Look I know I have never meet them and I know that they very protective of you but I'll try my best to earn their approval, I promise..." He coached her to take a deep breath but pulling her forward to continue the walk.

They were passing by the Ferrari hospitality area when we heard a loud shout before some softly running of feet. "Disculpe! Y/n!" A strong spanish accent mde itself known behind the new couple.

Whilst Y/n tensed, Adam turned around fully with a confident smile. "Hi you must be Carlos right? It's lovely to meet you" He started a positive conversation, only to be met with a glare and scowl from Carlos.

"Yes, that's me. And who are you?" The spanish driver snapped back, snatching Y/n's arm and pulling her away from her partner. "What do you want from Y/n?"

Taking her arm back out of his grasp, Y/n moved back to Adams side with a sign.

She knew that the other drivers would be just as protective and some even more than Carlos. "Carlos..." Her voiced broke through the awkward silence that he created. "This is my new partner, Adam. You can chill out..."

All shoulders relaxed as she explained, a small guilty smile replaced the scowl on Carlos' face. Reaching out his hand towards Adam as both an apologie and a better introduction.

After a small conversation between the three, Y/n realised that the couple had to continue down the paddock. Saying goodbye to Carlos, the two were walking down to her team garage once again but were quick stopped once again.

This time by her old teammate and the reigning champion the grid. "Y/n, um who's this?" Unlike Carlos, Max was more shy and cautious rather than forward and hostile. Something Adam was thankful of.

"Hi I'm Adam, I'm Y/ns partner. It's nice to meet you, also I promise to take good care of Y/n..." After his last interaction with Carlos, Adam tried even harder to prove himself. "Please, I promise I love her a lot and-"

Max raised his hand to stop the ramble from the younger man. He had a small smile on his face, slightly amused by his fear. "It's okay, I don't doubt it. I'm sure you'll prove yourself over the next couple of weeks..."

Giving Y/n a quick hug and Adam a pat on the shoulder, Max told them that he had an important meeting to attend and he'll see them around.

Finally they arrived at the Mercedes hospitality and when they first entered, Adam eyes turned to the other driver in the room. Lewis, he was sat at one the table along with some of his management team.

Much like Adam, Lewis immediately noticed their presence in the room and beckoned them over to him.

"Hi Lulu!" Y/n quicking moving to give her beloved teammate a hug before moving back to her partners side. "Lulu meet Adam, he's my partner and Adam meet Lulu, my teammate."

Unlike the other two drivers, Lewis had a reassuring smile on his face whilst getting up from his seat to give Adam strong handshake. "Well it's nice to meet you Adam, I assume you'll take good care of that crazy women right there. I wish you the best"

It was short and simple but it meant a lot to Adam. Immediately he felt approved by a legend in the sport and by someone who Y/n considered a father figure.

"Thank you, I'll take good care of her"

>Seb! -Seb!!! -SEB OMG I HAVE NEWS!!! >What?! >It's about Y/n!! >Well go on tell me!!!!! >She has a partner! -His name is Adam and tbh I can see them getting married!!! >THATS BOLD >IKR But it's true! -They're perfect for eachother!!! >I need to meet him first and approve him first before they can even think about engagements >Ofc ofc

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90ekz · 3 months

Text

BLEED INTO ME!

in which… ony is your vampire boyfriend, and he tends to overfeed, even when you tell him not to. guess you have to teach him a lesson, yeah?

word count: 3.4k (WOAH?)

content. smut + plot, sub!vamp!ony, light angst, nicknames (baby, princess, ma, pa, pretty), dacryphillia, heavy discussion of wounds and injury, established relationship, n-word usage, hematolagnia & blood consumption, black!domfem!reader, overstimulation, handcuffs, light feminization, handjobs, male squirting, dry humping.

syno speaks. i really apologize for the delay on this, but i hope y’all love it! thank you for all the support :) btw, i know some people are squeamish about blood, so if that bothers you in any way you may need to avoid reading this. kk that’s all, love y’all 💋

ony annoys the fuck outta you.

he always has, ever since he came shimmying through your houses’ chimney while you’d fallen asleep on the couch watching your favorite movie. the action hadn’t even registered in your bleary mind until he was poking his sharpened talon against your cheek, silently praying that you’d wake up so he could explain his current situation.

the poachers were running a muck on the town, and they were out to kill any and every vampire they could find.

ony, specifically, had been a prime target, due to him being the only full-breed left in the country. he had been on the run for months now, and whether it was finding caves to sleep in or crashing at his boys’ houses when he could, he’d been keeping his distance between him and the enemy, until now.

he’s suddenly awoken in his cave to the sound of heavy footsteps clammering against floors of the gravel, and he recognized the sound like his own voice. he wasn’t quick enough to move out of their line of sight before he was shot in his stomach and chased through town, only getting away once he saw your house with an easy entrance.

“hey, wake the hell up.” ony complained, his jabs slowly getting softer as he took in the state of your sprawled out body.

your appearance should be the least of his worries right now, but you were so captivating. even with the droop of your plump lips, and the way your blanket was completely kicked off you, revealing only a crop top and shorts. your curves were on full display, and he felt his fingers itch with the need to touch, to mark.

as your eyes blinked open, ony hovered over your frame, drool pooling in his mouth as he patiently waited for your full awakening.

“oh, look who decided to join us.”

silence stretched over the room for an unbearable amount of time as your brain caught up to what exactly you were looking at, and you were scrambling to your feet and behind the couch. you were swift on your feet, and suddenly ony had a knife barreling toward his head that he barely dodged. the knife cemented itself into the wall, a reverberated sound bouncing against both of your ears.

“get the hell out of my house!” you gritted out, trying to keep your voice even. ony’s eyes are wide as he flicks his attention between you and the literal machete in the wall, what just happened?

“can you, uh, let me explain first?” ony presses on as he tried to ignore the way your voice was calling to him like a siren song. something about you was making his knees physically weak, but he would figure that out later when you weren’t ready to chuck another knife at him.

“explain what—you’re a random nigga in my house! how did you even get in here?!”

“the chimney, look can you just calm down—shit.” ony doubled over, as more blood started to leak from his wound. he hadn’t been fed in over a month, and was now losing his own blood. his regeneration isn’t as effective when he’s hungry, but he couldn’t risk going to some hospital to get help either.

you let a gasp slip out as you saw his hand clutches against his stomach, and you warily made your way over to his crumpling form.

“fuck, is that a bullet wound? i’ll um—let me go get some gauze, don’t move.” you rushed into a room outside of ony’s field of vision, and just as suddenly as you left, you were helping him to the couch. ony flopped down, quiet curses falling out of his mouth. you felt your cheeks heat as you removed what was left of his shirt and inspected his wound. it wasn’t too deep, and you were able to pull the bullet out with your tweezers without much effort.

the rest of the process was seamless, and ony was left relatively feeling impressed as he eyed the stained gauze wrapping his stomach. you even handed him a glass of water, and kneeled by him on the floor. you were so caring, and his stomach was in knots at your close proximity.

you kept making eyes at him like you wanted to ask something, until you finally did.

“what the hell happened to you?” your voice was much softer this time around, and ony was definitely a bigger fan of this tone. ony hooked his pointer finger into the corner of his mouth to reveal one of his pearly white fangs, his tongue lolling out involuntarily.

“poachers.”

he really did owe you a better explanation, but his head was much too fuzzy from hunger and blood loss to fully spit out that whole monologue. plus, your cheeks were now stained burgundy with shyness and another emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint, and you looked way too cute like that.

only now did you finally take a good look at the man before you, and you were embarrassed to realize that this was the man that had been labeled all over the news as “the last living full-breed.”

and he was bloody, shirtless, and sexy right here on your living room couch.

“y-you’re…”

“the last living full-breed vampire? yeah, something like that.” ony rolled his eyes, his hand waving in a nonchalant manner as if he wasn’t the most wanted… thing walking right now. you’d built up an impressive saved folder of videos, blog articles, and news headlines about him and his whereabouts, and you’d always felt so bad for him.

a bout of shame washed over you at your previous actions. you’d attacked him and screamed at him without even realizing that this was the same man you’d been pitying for months now, and now that he’s here, you have a strange urge to protect him.

“i, uh…i’m sorry for all the knife-throwing and stuff,” you mumble into the arm of the couch. “i didn’t realize it was you.” ony huffs, clearly amused with your response.“i did break into your house to be fair. i wouldn’t sweat it.” he shifts in his seat on the couch, still unable to fully sit up without the pain spreading. fuck; he really needs to eat soon.

comfortable silence sits in the room with the two of you, the same thing on both of your minds.

“so, what’re you gonna do now?”

“no clue. i can’t go back to my cave, and most of my homeboys live in the old city i was staying in, so i can’t go to any of them. probably just gonna skip town. again.” ony mentions sadly. he was tired of always having to run from people, and it was getting lonely without any of his friends or family around anymore. it was a constant battle, and he was tired of fighting for it.

you him to affirm him, but can’t shake the ridiculous idea you have brewing on the back of your tongue. it should be out of the question, but you wanted to protect him, and he needed somewhere to stay. what’s the worst that could happen?

ony sighed, and as he went to stand up, you grabbed his wrist firmly.

“why don’t…why don’t you just stay here?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“onyankopon, i’m not boutta play wit you all night.”

“please baby, im so hungry.” ony presses his cheek against the innard of your thigh while you diligently finish on the outline of your english literature essay and pouts.

fuck you and your dedication to a masters degree, hmph.

he’d been teasing you for hours now so you could feed him, but you wouldn’t take the bait. you just roll your eyes in response as he grips onto the fat of your thigh, licking and sucking at the bite mark from 2 days ago that hadn't faded all the way yet.

this only spurred ony further, his instincts just telling him to ruin your thighs for any one else, to just drain you of everything you had.

so he did.

“o-ony! what did i just say?!” your thigh trembles against his lips as he digs his fangs in, his eyes low and cloudy from your taste. this, this right here, was his personal heaven—desperate whines slipping from your lips, your fingers gripping his hair, your sweet stream hitting his tongue as he sloppily drinks you alive.

ony groaned deep in his chest as his pants began to feel far too tight all of the sudden. this happens often, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. it isn’t uncommon for him to come completely undone just by feeling your sweetness flow down his throat and pool into his stomach. your blood was his weakness; it made him stronger, faster, and healthier than he’d ever felt or been, and you protected him.

you the first—and the only—to not cast him out, and for that reason, he fell deep for you. deeper than he ever thought possible.

and even now, ony craved more of you.

you shakily pressed three taps to the side of his biceps, your sign that you needed him to stop. he whined loudly, but pulled away nonetheless. he knows that restraint is very important when it comes to this, but he’s still so hungry. you feel your cheeks heat up as you brush a thumb of his now trembling lips, and take in just how wrecked he looks.

his eyes are watering tinted and watery, and his hair was ruffled from the way you’d pulled on it. ony was a complete mess of himself, and you felt your pride swell at how easily your blood can do that to him.

“mmm, fuck ma, tastes so fucking good—‘m so hard fr’m it…”

you smile down at him, loving how quickly he fell under your spell. ony’s your obsession, but he had disobeyed you, and you couldn’t let that slide. as much as you wanted to just give into him and let him take what he needs from you, you had to remind him who was boss.

“uh huh.” you shrugged, simply going back to your paper. you wanted to make him even more needy than he already was.

“‘fuck you mean, uh huh? make me nut already.” ony licks over the freshly punctured bite as a little blood rushes out. he expects you to do something, anything in response, but you just huff and continue to work on your paper. you’re basically done with it already, but you choose to add little details just so he gets irritated, and boy is it working. ony was absolutely itching to just break that stupid laptop so you'd pay attention to him, but it was all in vain.

no matter the amount of kissing, licking or teasing he did, your resolve didn't crack one bit under the pressure of his touch, and that in itself made ony's blood run cold. he just wanted you to look at him, and his cock was throbbing even without your attention.

“don’t act like you ain’t just drink a whole pint outta me even when i said wait. you not gettin’ shit else.” you wave him off with a simple signal of your hand, and his stomach drops. not only were you ignoring him, you were shooing him.

ony raises to his feet and nuzzles his face into your neck, positively whiny now. he undid the button of his pants and you gasped as his cock sprung free. of course the freaky nigga wasn’t wearing any drawls, he strange like that.

“ony, put some damn drawls on.”

“baby please, ‘s literally throbbing. ‘can’t take it.��

you found yourself holding back a smile as he peppers kisses along your face and neck, and you’re trying not to giggle. your restraint is slowly slipping, and you figured that you could indulge him just a little. you meet him halfway, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily. it was just how you liked it. ony had a way with kissing—his fangs usually came as a bit of a roadblock, but you two found ways around it. you tug the back of his head toward you, and he’s stumbling down to your height.

you smile, and ony feels himself melting once more. you could tell that he was getting needier, the glint in his eyes giving away how ready he was to be ruined by you.

“you need it bad, pa?”

“fuck, so bad.” he gasped into your mouth, his fang nipping your lip and watching a bit of blood bead at the tip of it. he eagerly licked it up, and you could feel your own arousal building. your gray panties did nothing to hide the wet spot growing in your core, but you had bigger things to worry about.

you wrapped a manicured hand around ony’s wrist, pulling him to the bedroom. he chuckled deep in his chest as he trailed behind you like your personal mutt, and you couldn’t help but smile. you loved when he got like this.

as soon as you entered the room, ony blinked and he was suddenly cuffed to your king sized bed, the silk of the sheets rubbing up against his skin. he already felt overwhelmed, and was pouty about not being able to touch you, but he had to remember that this was his punishment, and he wanted to be good for you. he was completely naked and the cold air of the room barely registered to him as your clothed pussy rutted against his bare cock.

it was like torture, but he knows that’s the point.

“c-cmon ma, you can go harder,” ony sighed, gesturing his head toward your matching bra and panties. you ground your pussy down against him harder, wanton moans falling from your glossed lips. ony cursed under his breath as he watched you stimulate yourself on his cock. your nails dug into his waist as you moved, arousal clear on your face. “is fat ma wet for me yet?”

it was a ridiculous question, really. he already knew the answer, and you did too. squelching noises filled the room as your sticky underwear made friction against his cock, and that was answer enough, but ony wanted to hear you admit it. you weren’t that vocal in bed (at least not with words), but it was always ony’s goal to make you.

“mmhm, she’s so wet f’you pa.”

“oh fuck.” ony feels his hips jerk up involuntarily as you talk dirty to him, he loves that nasty shit. he can’t figure out if it’s because you’re kinda mad at him or something else, but you were so responsive today and he needed to be inside you now. just the simple act of watching you climb the ladder to your climax was enough to have him panting and moaning along with you.

your head drops backward as you get closer to that sweet release, and ony is falling in love all over again. you look perfect like this, drooling over his cock rubbing between your folds without even properly touching you. your hand rubs under his chin as you force him to look at you, and he hopes he isn’t blushing.

“ony—fuck! ‘m cummin!” the coil in your stomach snaps, and ony watches in awe as your panties get completely ruined. his lap is sticky from the mix of his own pre and your juices, and he whines as his fangs start to protrude from arousal. you smile and let your thumb trail over his teeth and tongue, and he’s struggling against the cuffs.

there’s so many thing ony wants to do to you right now—but he wants to touch you more than anything. run his fingers up the indent of your wide hips, choke you, rub your oversensitive pussy, fuck, and he really wants to bite you. he wasn’t even that hungry, but there was an ache under his skin to mark you and make you bleed, and watch it all drip out.

just the thought was enough to have a spurts of cum shooting onto his stomach, and you let out a little coo at his twitching stomach as you take the opportunity to begin stimulating him, not even caring if he was too sensitive. you ran your fingers over the head of his cock, pay extra attention to the tip just the way that makes him fall apart.

“w-wait!”

“for what? you were just begging me to make you nut earlier, weren’t you?” you smirk as he bucks against your hand. when ony gets sensitive, his voice will pitch up and it’s the sexiest thing in the world to you. he’s always the neediest after he feeds, and it’s so cute. your eyes landed on the lube sitting on your nightstand, and you took the opportunity to squirt a few drops onto your hand. it was almost too slippery for you to keep your pace, but the added moisture made it easier to stimulate the most sensitive parts of him.

“shit, it’s so wet.”

“yeah? wetter than me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side.

“uh uh, ‘s nothing wetter than you mama—oh shit,” ony’s mouth dropped open as your finger passed over his slit once more, and he was spilling into your hand with a groan. there was more of it this time, and his hands tugged at the handcuffs as you continued to work him through his second orgasm. you were almost afraid that he was going to break them with his pure strength, but you just let him struggle.

you’d seen him break many things in your shared house. door handles, alarm clocks, your counter, (don’t ask about that one) so you wouldn’t be shocked if he tried to break his restraints, but you knew he loved them too much. “baby—can’t take anymore, fucking hurts!” ony trembles, his legs bucking under you as you stroke his harder. both of your hands were working on his cock now, and his lip was bleeding from gnawing on it too much. a few stray tears even started to trail down his face.

“cmon princess, you can give me one more,” you kiss along ony’s neck and chest, and smile as you feel his breath stutter under your touch.

“ma, w-wait! ‘m serious, it feels weird—shitshitshit—”

before you could ask what he meant, ony’s orgasm was slamming into him and a clear stream of liquid was shooting out of his cock in uneven spurts. each shot was shorter than the first, but you were taken aback nonetheless. he’d never done anything like that before, at least not that you’ve ever seen, but you could feel arousal pooling in your belly again as he writhed under you. you finally released his cock as it softened against his stomach, and room was developed in silence apart from the heaving breathing of both of you.

you gave him a wet kiss on his cheek and began undoing his cuffs, his look of embarrassment not going unnoticed. he rubbed his wrists together, inevitably proud of the marks you’d left on him. “onya.” you pressed your chest to his, but he wouldn’t look at you. you figured he was embarrassed about what had just happened, even if you didn’t know exactly what that was.

“hmm?”

“you gonna look at me or just do that blushing school girl shit all night?” that made him smack his lips and finally let his eyes meet yours. you held his jaw with your hand, stroking right where he was starting to grow some hair finally. it was a shame, ony really had no idea how pretty he was, even with his eyes streaked with tears, swollen lips, and marks left all along his neck and chest. his hands finally grasped your waist, eventually sliding down to paw at your doughy ass.

“you’re ruining my street cred, fat butt. out here makin me squirt and shit.”

“what street cred, nigga? you from the woods!” you laughed against his chest, and he felt his heart swell. he lifted your chin up to look at him, and your little smile made him remember that everything would be okay as long as he had you. you’d saved him, taken him away from a dangerous life, and he couldn’t find any way good enough to properly thank you.

your eyes twinkled and you closed the distance between the two of you. the kiss was slow and ardent, and you wanted to stay like this forever.

“you did so good, ony. ‘so proud of you, baby.”

“if you were really proud, you’d feed me some more—”

“mmkay, don’t push ya luck.”

special tag 444 my baby <3 @hoesluvshanti

#onyankopon #onyankopon x you #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x y/n #onyankopon smut #onyankopon snk #aot onyankopon #ony x y/n #ony x you #ony x reader #ony x black reader #ony aot #attack on titan smut #aot smut #syno’s picks 💌#this is freaky woah

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