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lokis-army-77 · 7 months

Text

Private Viewing

Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 6.8k

What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?

Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.

Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.

Masterlist

Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight.

Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception.

You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out.

“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself.

“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum?

It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”

You want to cry.

“Four.”

The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.

“Three.”

You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.

“Two.”

The tears are flowing now.

“One.”

You let out a strangled scream.

“Cum baby. Do it, now.”

Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well.

With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum.

When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.”

And then the live is over.

Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed.

…

Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class.

You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.

The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you.

You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang.

He apologizes before making his introduction. He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.

It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you.

His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence.

It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention.

Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O.

“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen.

Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand.

It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone.

Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes.

When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.

That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.

…

Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself.

‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’

‘No…’

‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’

You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad.

Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.

He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans.

You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat.

Princess23: hi Ed

His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"

There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.

Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.

The reply to his question is truer than he realizes.

"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.

Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth.

It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.

"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"

Princess23: yes please

"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans.

You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one.

Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.

He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.

"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off.

As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs.

Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.

"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length.

"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?"

"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound.

You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth.

"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect."

You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit.

The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.

The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.

There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level.

It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast.

So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.

You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy.

"Oh fuck," you cry. Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions.

He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized.

He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.

The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core.

Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.

He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end.

“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”

“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.”

The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated.

Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight.

With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure.

…

It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week.

Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you.

You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?

There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you.

“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space.

“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?”

“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.”

He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it.

“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”

You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”

"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students.

You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?

…

You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job.

It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay.

Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition.

You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”

“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together.

You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster.

Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised.

“What was that?” He asks.

“What was what?” You answer.

“Why did you slam your phone down?”

“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”

“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”

A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen.

“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.

Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."

…

After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean.

It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not.

You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand.

You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."

He turns to you. "Hum?"

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."

"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered.

"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."

He doesn't look all too surprised.

"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."

Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans.

You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.

Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.

Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.

When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly.

He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin.

"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out."

The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved.

"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself."

You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped.

He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.

Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long.

You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to.

'He knows." You argue with yourself.

'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'

The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it.

So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen.

Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.

He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head.

You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut.

You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him.

Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls.

Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.

He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more.

It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does.

"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.”

Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises.

In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark.

…

Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see.

Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf.

You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear.

“Hi, Sweetheart.”

“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.

“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret.

“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?”

Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer.

Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking.

“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.

He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”

He forces you to look at him and you nod your head.

You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful.

As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down.

“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.”

“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.”

He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”

“Yes, but-”

He cuts you off with a finger over your lips.

“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours.

They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does.

To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.

His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.

With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank.

When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine.

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."

You pout. "But Eddie…"

"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."

You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work.

It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it.

"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."

He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."

You moan loudly at his praise.

"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."

His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.

"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster.

"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.

"Kiss me again," you beg.

He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you.

The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt, uncomfortably, between your legs.

"So good for me." He praises.

You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.

"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.

"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin.

You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."

Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs.

You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds.

You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.

"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.

The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.

"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.

"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"

It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are.

Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.

You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you.

"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him.

Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster.

He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.

The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight.

He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.”

You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.”

Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions.

The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room.

In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half.

“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part.

You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again.

Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans.

“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow.

Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.”

You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits. He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either.

“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight.

He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice.

Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit.

“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!”

“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.”

“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed.

“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out.

Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.

You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time.

You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy.

Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.

“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah?” You whisper.

“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin.

Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened.

It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you.

“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.”

He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again.

“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.”

That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on.

He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground.

Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #camboy!eddie #camboy!eddie munson #soft!dom eddie

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ohsuguru · 21 days

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sukuna finally, finally gets to see and taste his pretty best friend under him ⁀ ❣︎

˚ʚ minors, ageless and blank blogs dni! ɞ˚

cw: virgin fem! reader, suggested perv! sukuna, cunnilingus, dirty talk, spitting

an: pt. 2 here!

"ryo... stop staring," you whine softly as your fingers thread through his messy pink hair, throat bobbing up and down in nervousness. your best friend had made himself comfortable between your soft thighs, strong and tattooed arms wrapped around them like muscular garter belts, keeping you pried open for him and him only.

what started out as a relatively innocent night, watching movies with ryomen sukuna - your best friend of as long as you can remember - suddenly and somehow ended up with him between your legs, his crimson eyes focused intently on your glistening pussy.

sure, maybe the movie choice got the two of you a bit heated, the two main characters going at it like rabbits, the lewd sounds of squelching filling sukuna's living room. maybe it was the way that sukuna could hear your breath hitch when the male lead went down on the female protagonist.

or maybe it's the way he saw your luscious thighs squeeze together when he finally penetrated her, your body aching for that exact feeling.

and before you know it, the two of you were making out messily to the sounds of heavy moaning from the tv. the pink-haired man swiftly switches it off seeing as he would much rather hear your pretty noises. if he could, he'd inject your whimpers and sighs straight into his bloodstream.

your mind spins with arousal, the tension in the room heady with anticipation as you feel sukuna's warm breath fan against your aching core.

"tch, bossy brat," his gravelly voice breaks you out of your lust-filled stupor, your eyes darting down to meet his ones. "i'll stare for as long as i want to."

his gaze drops from yours and back to the sight before him, his thumb dragging down your slit to collect your honeyed juices as a satisfied hum leaves his throat.

"to think my best friend has been leavin' this pretty thing all to herself," sukuna mumbles to himself, his fingers spreading your pussy lips to let him see more of you. "bossy 'n selfish. ought to be punished."

he watches you, your body clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching, that tight little hole almost calling out to him, begging for him to fill it up with his huge and heavy cock.

"and to think i'm the first man to have ever seen this," your best friend spits, the glob of saliva landing straight on your pearl which drags out the sweetest gasp and whimper from you. "aren't i a lucky son of a bitch?"

the rough and calloused pad of his thumb circles that twitching nub on your body, the action causing you to squirm and buck even more, your ankles digging into the muscular planes of his back. your pussy drools onto the couch, your body leaking liquid sugar as he stares at your dribbling hole.

"what a waste," he continues to mutter to himself, another condescending tch leaving his lips. "what would you do without me?"

and before you know it, your best friend clamps his slightly chapped lips against your clit, sucking it harshly into his eager mouth.

"sukuna!" you yelp in response, fingers tugging aggressively into his pink locks which drags out a guttural groan, the vibrations sending pleasurable jolts through your spine.

"watch the hair, woman," he warns you, settling in and hunkering down between your thighs even more. "you're interruptin' my meal. and you know how i am with my food."

sukuna resumes his ministrations, flicking and rolling your clit with his tongue expertly. he writes his name out, the pink muscle spelling out each letter languidly, staking claim on your pussy – his pussy. it's messy and loud, the squelching that fills the room now, a harmonious yet lewd symphony when paired with your whimpers. sukuna slurps up your slick, his tongue darting into your hole to taste you directly from the source.

"so fuckin' sweet," he groans into you, his nose bullying your sensitive bundle of nerves as he dives in almost impossibly deeper, making out so sloppily with your pussy. "sweetest pussy i've ever had."

"ryo– m'gonna–" you whimper out, legs tensing and shivering, ankles digging, back arching. "please, pleasepleaseplease–"

"please what, brat?" sukuna quips back almost immediately, his crimson eyes pinning you down with a sharp gaze as he focuses on your expressions now. "use your words, pretty girl."

you try your best to formulate your wants, your needs through a sukuna-induced haze that has settled in your mind. your eyes are glassy and teary, drool pooling at the sides of your lips as your best friend eats your virgin body out within an inch of your life.

"please make me cum, ryooo," you hiccup, a harsh whine following your words when he slurps your sweetened juices loudly, causing you to flush in embarrassment and pleasure.

"good girl."

and just like that, he doubles down on his actions, dragging out a yelp of his name from your throat as your fingers tug and pull on his hair. it's messy and sloppy and loud, the noises that sukuna is making from between your thighs. the only thing in his mind right now is to make you cum. and hard.

he wanted to be the only one in your mind, tarnishing your innocent body with such pure, unadulterated pleasure that you wouldn't be able to find anyone else after this...

not that he would let his pretty best friend even have the chance to find someone else. not when you taste this sweet.

the bubble that has been brimming at the bottom of your spine finally pops with a candied cry of sukuna's name as a similar groan leaves his lips. and you realise, your name has never sounded more sinful.

he guides you through your orgasm, his tongue languidly coaxing more of your sweetened slick from your pulsing hole until he pulls away.

but before you could sit up to finally take everything in, sukuna drags his thumb through your swollen slit, an overstimulated whine leaving your lips once again. a dark chortle follows, his crimson eyes meeting your glassy ones, his glistening lips pulling up into a cocky smirk as a cocky question falls from them.

"you can give me one more, yeah, pretty?"

#li shen writes - ˚ʚ❣︎ɞ˚#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk x you smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x you smut #anime smut

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backwzzds · 5 months

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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren

eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.

thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.

your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.

eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”

you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”

eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”

don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.

but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you

“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.

eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”

it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.

you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.

after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”

with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.

in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?

when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.

with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.

eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”

#lora’s fics! ೄྀ࿐#plug!eren x reader #plug!eren #plug!eren x black reader #plug eren x black reader #plug eren x reader #plug eren #plug eren smut #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #plug!eren smut #aot x black reader #eren jaeger x chubby reader #eren x black reader #eren x chubby reader #aot x chubby reader

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joonberriess · 5 months

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⊹₊ ⋆ “They can't deny our love, they can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time, I promise I'll be right here, standing next to you,”

TAGS — drunk sex, dirty talkin’, jk’s a pervy mess, oc is smitten this time round bc she’s soft, unprotected sex, creampies, oc rides it nice n good before jk pounds her, tit play(?) not much, anGSTY, like full on crying bro, making out, like a lot, oc n jk go on a date, THERE IS PLOT THIS TIME, mentioned shower sex, messy sex, oc’s got that creamy puss—, soft ;( , sleazy baby daddy au!

WORD COUNT — 6.9 k

The day started out like any other: you woke up, dressed Jiho for school following your usual routine of heading to the gym after dropping your baby off. From there you headed to the office to catch up on unfinished projects, a meeting or two slipped into your schedule but nothing too crazy. You manage to squeeze in a small break at home before having to go and get Jiho.

It’s a Friday and you realize that you don’t have much planned for the day or weekend so you decide on dropping off Jiho at your moms and enjoying a weekend of solitude to yourself. You’re practically daydreaming about taking the biggest nap of your life after this, hell maybe you can finally taste that new wine you recently bought. You practically buzz with excitement on the way, and back home.

Unfortunately life had a funny way of working sometimes.

“Hello?” You sigh deeply whilst pacing back and forth. It was just your luck that your car decided to be a pain in the ass by breaking down on the side of the road. Now you’re stranded outside of the city after dropping off Jiho.

“Baby? What’s up, somethin’ wrong?” Jungkook replies, you can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, “You callin’ cause you miss my dick–”

“No dipshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance, “I got left stranded after dropping Jiho with my mom, car gave out on me and now I’m stuck outside the city kinda.” You look around, “Can you come help me out please?”

“Sure, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes top. Did you call the tow truck or nah? If you didn’t I can call while I’m on my way.”

You sigh in relief, “No I didn’t, but call your one friend. I’ll send you the location right now, bye.” You hang up and quickly send him your location. There isn’t really much to do so you sit back and scroll through your social medias to pass the time. Jungkook stays true to his word though and shows up in twenty minutes like he had promised. He’s not in his car though because today he’s brought his motorcycle.

“Hey.” You greet calmly and step out of your car. You make your way over to him, coming to a stop in front of his bike with your arms folded over your chest. You would rather not admit to anything (at least out loud) but he looks pretty hot, you can see his unruly hair underneath his helmet.

Jungkook slips his helmet off and shakes his hair out of his face, “Hi baby,” he grins, “so what happened here, hm?” He talks to you like he’s talking to a toddler, all teasing and shit. You don’t bother hiding your annoyance as you roll your eyes, making him laugh, “Alright, alright, but seriously what happened mama?” He leans over to bring you into his side, landing an obnoxious wet smooch over your lips.

You scrunch your face up and nod your head in the direction of the car, “Stopped out of nowhere, turned off and everything.”

He looks over at it and hums, “Pop the hood for me, gonna give it a look before Eunwoo comes.” He lets you go and rounds the front of the car, giving you a thumbs up to pop the hood up for him.

It unlocks and Jungkook opens it up leaning over the car with quiet “tch, tch, tch” noises as he tries to see what was wrong with it. You step out to watch him closely, trying to ignore how good he looks in a white wife beater with his arms and tattoos all out. Jungkook doesn’t even have to try when it comes to getting you hot and bothered.

“Shit babe,” Jungkook hisses and recoils, “you need to get the oil changed, ‘s fuckin burned and dried out. Top of that, I think the battery is either old or it just needs a charge.” He shakes his head with a grimace.

You sigh in relief, happy that it wasn’t anything major, “I’ll get it checked out at the shop then,” you help him slam the hood closed, “thanks.”

“Mm,” he leans against the car staring down at you, “need a ride back home?” He licks his lips, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s checking you out in broad daylight with that lecherous look in his eyes.

You nod, “Please, it’s finally my day off and this happens.” You chuckle bitterly and kick a rock, “Was looking forward to a nap, guess that won’t be happening.”

“Hm, I know a way we could pass the time..” He slides his hand around your waist, teasingly pulling at the belt loop of your jeans, “I can make you forget ‘bout all this mess mama.” He says in a low tone, “Just say the word..”

You bring him close with a hand around the back of his neck, lips inches away and eyes full of lust. “You’re so cute,” you softly breathe out as his eyes light up with arousal, “but no.” You pinch his arm extra hard, listening in satisfaction when he cries out in pain, “I’m not fucking you on the side of the road. Especially since Eunwoo might be close by, yeah no thanks.” You snort.

“Ow you fucking hurt me.” Jungkook hisses, “You left a mark! Look at that!” He thrusts his arm out to show the red mark you left, “Kiss it better.” He huffs quietly and eyes you expectantly.

You look back at him with a blank stare, “No,” you step to the side and look out for the tow truck, “last I checked I’m not the one responsible for kissing boo-boos,” you fold your arms over your chest, “you’re a grown ass man deal with it.”

Jungkook quietly laughs under his breath, “No you’re right—I can give you something else to kiss better.” He dodges your hand, laughing loudly while ignoring the colorful words you spew at him, “C’mon it was a little funny.”

“No it wasn’t,” you hiss while smacking his arm, “you’re so fuckin’ dumb Jungkook.” You try hard to fight off the chuckle stuck in your throat, “Oh my god.” You turn away, shoulders shaking as you quietly laugh to yourself.

Jungkook comes behind you to pull you into his chest while swaying side to side with you, “C’mere,” he leans down to kiss the side of your face, “go out for dinner with me, saw a new place open up and it has a lot of your favorites.” He murmurs in your ear.

“Yeah?’ You reply softly, “Where is it?”

“Gangnam,” Jungkook curtly replies while burying his face into your shoulder, “you down for some fun?”

You haven’t been out since your last girls trip to Jeju and that was like two months ago. Fuck it—you think—it’s friday and you don’t have to worry about work till tuesday. With Jiho being out for the weekend you guess you can unwind too. Plus Jungkook could be fun to be around with..sometimes. You won’t ever admit it though, what Jungkook doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Okay, sounds good. You need to drop me off at my apartment though, gotta get ready ‘n stuff.” You see the tow truck pulling into the side of the road, “C’mon, your friend’s here.” You pull away and start walking towards your car.

In the end Jungkook takes you to his apartment to get ready, he literally has you packing a overnight bag with everything you could possibly need for a weekend stay. You don’t even know why you agree to staying the weekend with him but Jungkook says something about Gangnam being close to his place and how he’d probably not be able to drive you back home if you two end up finishing late at night. You know it’s not that though, but you don’t have the heart to call him out for it.

“Lace,” Jungkook smirks as he looks at the underwear you dropped on his bed after opening up your bag, “red too, damn this for me mama?” He dangles the cheeky pair of panties up in the air.

You hum in response, not really focused on him because you’re trying to fix your grinder, “Gonna pregame or what?” You finally say after getting it to work, “Or you too old Jeon?” You stick your tongue out with a smirk while adding in some bud.

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Babe you trying to get me cross-faded? Fuck I don’t even think I’ve pregamed in a while, don’t wanna get shit-faced just yet though,” he scratches his nose, “so shots? We both need to remember our livers don’t work like they used to.”

“Yeah, yeah hold on.. let me finish real quick.” You mumble to yourself. The blunt hangs from your lips when you finish rolling it, old habits die hard you guessed when you go around picking up Jungkook’s clothes off the ground. You go around cleaning a little bit of his room before heading into his bathroom to start the water.

You and Jungkook smoke about half of the blunt together before taking a shot, which you end up pulling a face at and shaking your head, “Fuck I haven’t drank this shit since college,” you wipe your lips, “ugh, I’m gonna go shower. Bleh,” you try to get the bitter taste out of your mouth while disappearing into his bathroom.

Of course Jungkook doesn’t leave you alone as he follows you into the shower. By the time you’re both out there’s only a hour left before you two have to head out, “Babe I invited Hoseok and Yoongi if that’s cool with you,” he says loudly from inside the walk-in closet, “Yoongi said something about him and your one friend going together.”

“Who Hyejin?” You try to reply while lining your lips, “She’s the one who texted me like ten minutes ago,” you smack your lips together, “or is it someone else?”

Jungkook comes out wearing a black blazer over a white top, “Uhh I think?” He passes by with a cheeky ass grab, “ready for another shot?” He heads out to bring back the bottle, “Or you going to drink from the bottle?” He smirks lazily, you both end up taking a swig from the bottle.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You pull one of Jungkook’s black leather jackets over your body, “I don’t care if you only had one drink or no drinks, we’re both walking or getting a ride got it? I don’t wanna hear you complaining about having to leave the car overnight,” you sternly say to him as you both head out together, “I’m not trying to die in the middle of fuckin’ fall, ‘s freezing tonight.” You shiver a little.

Jungkook snorts, “Babe I’m a little cross-faded, but it’ll go away I promise-” he stops himself from finishing his sentence when he sees the glare you’re sending his way, “okay, okay, fine we’re gonna catch a ride home.” He winds his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in closely, “Nice little date night isn’t it?”

You snort quietly and look up at him in amusement, “Date? Ew, as if. We haven’t been on one of those in ages.”

“Don’t be such a little party pooper, first date and you’re already complaining? I’m hurt baby,” Jungkook holds the lobby door open for you, smacking your ass when you slip past him, “just wait and see, ‘m gonna make this the best night ever.”

His words make you roll your eyes, “Sure.” You’re secretly endeared though, and you can’t help but wonder what has you so soft with him today. Usually you found it annoying when he said corny/sappy shit but for some reason it’s cute? Maybe you really were in a good mood.

“Well don’t you look pretty,” Hyejin grins as she slips her arm around you waist, “you lil’ fuckin floozy, you fucked him didn’t you?” She laughs softly, “Look at all the marks, fuck lemme see,” she tries to take a peek into your dress.

“Hyejin,” you hiss while pushing her off of you, “you’re gonna show my entire tit to everyone around, stop.” You quietly laugh, “And for your information we didn’t go all the way because I didn’t let him, he only ate me out I swear.” You whisper into her ear, jumping in alarm and rushing to cover her mouth when she yells out loud.

She winks at you deviously before going back to her seat next to Yoongi. It’s nice being with friends like this, plus the restaurant was everything you hoped for. The vibes and atmosphere were pleasant, it was kinda reminding you of your college days when you and your friends stayed out late. It brings a tiny smile to your face.

“So how you been y/n?” Hoseok speaks up, “Felt like I haven’t seen you in forever.” His eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, eyes taking in the way you’re both sitting so close.

“Been good, just working nothing too crazy, how bout you?” You nod your head at him, “Still doing that thing you told me about—fuck I keep forgetting what it was—but yea, you still doing that or..?”

Hoseok sips his beer with a nod, “Yeah,” he notices the way Jungkook’s hand tightens around your shoulder, “ ‘s gotten busier but business is good so I can’t complain you know?” He sheepishly smiles.

You briefly look over at Jungkook to see he’s got his tongue poking the inside of his cheek—the thing he does when he’s either angry or bothered—you’re not so sure why he’s pissy but you don’t dwell on it, “That’s good, let me know how it goes though. Can’t say I’m not interested from what you told me.” You feel Jungkook squeeze your arm, releasing it after a couple of seconds and then going back to stroking his hand up and down.

You both stay huddled close the rest of the night, Jungkook keeps his hand over your thigh and you have your head against his shoulder. The night only gets wilder as the restaurant turns into a full party with people singing and enjoying the loud music, Hoseok orders shots for everyone and by the time you check your phone to see that it’s one in the morning you’ve already lost count of how many drinks both you and Jungkook had.

“Another shot or what? You said you could out drink me, I wanna see your ass try,” Yoongi hiccups while sending you a glare, you notice that Hyejin’s already passed out with her face buried in his neck.

You grunt in annoyance and push at Jungkook’s arm, “Didn’t say, I know I can.” You rumble back and manage to take the shot, “Now you asshole.” You nod your head, “Hurry up Yoongi, you’re getting old or what?” You snicker.

He makes a face and manages to down it, “Fuckin’ hell, so nasty.” He shakes his head, “We’re too old to be doing this shit, fuckin’ Hoseok tapped out on the third shot! Look at his ass, he’s not waking up anytime soon.” He groans.

“Yeah I think I’m done too, getting so fuckin dizzy,” Jungkook sighs and looks over at you, “ready to tap out too baby?” He hums as he leans in to rest his face in your shoulder.

You nod slowly, “Yeah, my head hurts too.” You sigh deeply and wave the waitress down. Yoongi generously closes the entire tab and heads out with Hyejin and Hoseok to wait for a taxi. You and Jungkook take a couple of minutes to gather your thoughts before heading out to follow them.

You stick around outside to make sure that Yoongi, Hyejin, and Hoseok get into the uber together before heading back to Jungkook’s. It feels a lot warmer walking hand in hand with him, you find yourself grinning like a idiot, “Hey Jungkook,”

“Hm?” Jungkook stops to look at you.

“Does that playground by your house still have that one swing where two people can go on it together?” You smile.

He blinks a couple of times in confusion before a knowing smile crosses over his face, “Yeah, it does.” He squeezes your hand.

You both end up giggling like children while swinging around in the air on opposite sides facing each other. You squeal when Jungkook pushes you both extra hard, causing you to swing a bit faster as you land on the ground and huff with effort to push the two of you. “Fuck I haven’t done this much workout since Jiho joined soccer,” you chuckle.

Jungkook huffs quietly, hot breath going foggy in front of his mouth showing just how cold it was. “Fucking freezing, gonna get blisters from this shit babe.” He swings you both once more, smiling brightly when he hears you squeal again, “Shit you look like you’re having more fun than I am.”

“Cause I am,” you grin softly and let go of the handles, “but fuck you’re right, my hands hurt and they smell like iron.” You wait for Jungkook so that you two could go inside since the cold weather was starting to get to you. “C’mon I’m cold.” You purse your lips and shove your hands into your pockets.

Jungkook quickly follows after you. You both manage to get in, stumbling over each other with giggles and drunken jokes. Jungkook doesn’t make it before he’s crashing on the floor, sending you into hysterics as you bend over clutching your knees laughing. “Babe help me up!” Jungkook whines.

“H-Hold on,” you wipe your tears, “c’mere.” You haul his ass up, giggling hysterically at his messed up hair.

“And what you laughin’ at hm?” Jungkook wraps his arms around you and tugs you close, “C’mon tell me,” he whines and leans down to slide his lips over yours. Immediately you lean into the kiss, deepening it as you slip a hand over his cheek and cup it gently. His lips move over your own, gliding gently and slotting perfectly over your own.

Jungkook crowds you into the wall as he tries backing you into the living room causing you both to stumble. You don’t seperate from the kiss though even after almost falling back because you’re both tripping over something laying on the ground. Jungkook pulls back briefly, chuckling drunkly when he sees you’re both not in the living room, in fact you’re both heading towards his kitchen.

“Babe,” he softly mumbles as he caresses your cheek, “hol’ on, move that way.” He smothers you in another hot kiss, refusing to part even for a second.

You grumble softly into the kiss and pull away, “Can’t,” you mumble and let him kiss you again, “you’re kissin’ me and I can’t see where I’m goin.” You have a dopey smile on your face, “Lemme,” pause. “lemme take you to bed,” you slur out.

Jungkook nods eagerly and follows after you. His hands are impatient as he works his jacket off of you, he growls in frustration when he can’t quite get you out of the pretty dress you wore tonight. “Fuckin’ hell help me,” he pouts and kicks the door open, “can’t get it off, need to see you naked,” he giggles, “c’mon, help me.” He gives you puppy eyes.

“Paws off,” you growl playfully while stripping from your dress, “I got this.” You send him a pointed look and head over to his large comfy bed. You let yourself fall dramatically on it, arms and legs spread out like you’re a starfish or something.

Jungkook climbs over you a few seconds later, you notice he’s already shirtless as he grins softly down at you and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, “Hi baby.” He whispers softly between the two of you. You giggle quietly and smile back at him with a ‘hi’, he looks funny. The world around you spins in endless circles, fueling your dizziness and motion sickness.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, “best baby mama ever.” He leans down, mouth hovering over your neck as he leaves open-mouthed kisses over the warm flesh. You sigh quietly and lean into his touch feeling all warm inside from how endearing he was being.

“More.” You quietly reply, you want to hear all about how pretty you are to him. You’d never openly admit but Jungkook makes you feel special with the way he’s obsessed with you. On the surface he sure as hell was a dirty sleazy pervert but you knew he was genuine with you, even if his words were a little crude and unsavory at times.

Jungkook hums, “More what baby?” He softly asks while pulling back to look down at you, “Want me to touch you more?” He grins cheekily, “Coz I’m not complaining, love touchin’ and feeling on you.. So pretty,” he whispers as his eyes trail over you, “mine too..”

The ‘yours’ sits on the tip of your tongue, but for some reason it never leaves your mouth. “Stop playing around before I fall asleep,” you smack your lips with a dazed expression on your face, “then you won’t get to touch, only look.”

His eyes light up and he doesn’t say anything else, instead he captures you for a messy little kiss while his chilled hands slide down your sides and to your hips where those red panties sit. He teases you by pulling on the waistband, letting it snap back a few times before he finally pulls them down. You’re quivering in excitement, your own hands come up to unbutton his pants with ease.

Jungkook helps you shove them off, his boxers go with them two until you’re both laid bare for eachother. He lies flat over you with his chest right against yours, he takes his sweet time mapping every crevice and surface of your body. You’re not used to this time of affection in bed with him given that most of your fuckings were nasty and to the point. No, tonight’s different.

“Will never get used to how pretty you are,” he murmurs while laying kisses over your throat and chest, “just wanna keep you like this forever.” He whispers out as his hot mouth envelops a nipple.

He lays his tongue flat over your sensitive bud, lapping at it and teasing around it. Your lips part as quiet breathy sighs and moans leave you, only yelping when Jungkook fully encases your nipple with his lips wrapped around it tightly. “Fuck,” you tangle a hand in his hair and watch with hooded eyes.

Jungkook’s other hand comes up to fondle your neglected tit, pinching and rolling your hard nipple between his fingers in tandem with his powerful sucks. He switches back between both of them, leaving a small trail of spit as he goes. You don’t know how much of his teasing you can take, your cunt’s throbbing and more slick is dripping between your plush folds and down the crevice of your ass no doubt staining his sheets.

“No more,” you say when your nipples were sucked raw, “need you n’ my pussy,” you shift around and roll Jungkook on to his back, “gonna ride it, jus’ the way you like it.” You tease softly and leave a open-mouthed kiss over his mouth, sighing quietly when you feel his hot cock against your inner thigh.

“Mm,” he sighs as his head drops on the bed, eyes slipped in utter bliss as he holds your hips in his hands, “yeah—want you to ride it for me baby, wanna watch you bounce on it.” He rolls his hips upward as his cock bumps and slides against you.

You take his cock into your hand and stroke over it slowly, occasionally tapping it over your folds and smearing your slick over him. You catch sight of his dark cock, all swollen and throbbing in your hold. It makes your mouth water as you eagerly lift your hips and slip the tip between your folds until it catch over your winking hole. Both of your breath hitches as you ease him into you, hissing in pleasure as your cunt spreads around the mushroom-y tip, pink rim spreading and hugging him tightly.

Jungkook’s lips part in a long moan, he scrunches his face up in pleasure and rubs his hands over the swell of your ass cheeks. “Oh fuck baby,” he whispers, “jus’ a little more,” he groans, “fuck!” He hisses when you bottom out with a loud smack, your ass clapping off his pelvis as you seat yourself with his cock stuffed deep inside of you.

“So good,” you hum and give a few experimental rolls, just loving how deep he is from this position.

Your hands come down to settle over his chest for leverage, you don’t wait any longer before you’re bouncing idly over his cock. The excess slick begins rolling down to his balls creating a low audible squelch. Jungkook doesn’t really say much other than a few curses and whispers of your name. Your own noises come out breathy and low, constrasting the fopping sound your ass makes when it smacks against his thighs.

The bed frame begins to creak under your weight, slowly you begin speeding up until you’re full on bouncing on his cock. You ride till the tip remains inside before coming back down and slamming your hips over his. Jungkook’s grunts and moans rise in volume from the delicous pressure around his cock, your pussy grips him so tight he feels your rim hugging him almost as if you were refusing to let his cock go.

“Shit y/n,” the way your name rolls off his tongue sends butterflies deep in your tummy as you eagerly bounce, “like that, fuck it feels so fucking good, gripping me so tight,” he rolls his hips upward to meet your bounces, “oh fuck.” He throws his head back and grits his teeth.

You mewl quietly and switch from bouncing to grinding, you roll your hips back and forth over his cock and reach behind you to stroke and fondle his balls that press tightly against your ass. He moans loud and bucks his hips into you roughly, somehow punching his cock deeper with the tip kissing your cervix.

“Jungkook..!” You gasp out as your toes curl.

He brings his arms up to hoist you off and on to the bed, rolling the two of you over as he hikes a hand under your knee and lifts your leg up while he fucks into your pussy wildly. The new angle has his cock striking your g-spot over and over again with calculated thrusts. He punches loud moans and whimpers out of your lips, the pleasure bubbles over and has your pussy gripping him so tight it’s hard for him to backstroke.

“Look at me baby,” he pants, “yeah, show me that pretty face mama.. Look at you, taking my cock so well in that slutty little pussy. Got you drippin’ for me like I said you would, feel that?” He slows down and grinds into you slowly, hips circling in figure of eights as his cock rubs over your walls slowly, “See what you do to me baby? Got me all worked up for you, pussy’s suckin me in so well can’t help it.” He groans.

Your mouth falls open in a ‘o’ when he plunges into you quickly, fucking his cock in and out at a rapid pace. Slick dribbles all around with some splattering over the sheets and sliding down your pussy to your ass. His balls are heavy as they swing and smack into your ass repeatedly, every so often his cock throbs pathetically from inside of you.

“Oh god,” you whisper and throw your head back, “fuck right there Jungkook..!” You let out a shout of pleasure as he hits your g-spot over and over again without missing. He has you sliding up the bed from his brutal pace, the pleasure rising and rising as you grit your teeth and try to fight off your impending orgasm.

“Go on baby, cum for me.” Jungkook whispers, “C’mon mama, lemme see you cum all over my cock, make it nice and messy for me.” He rasps out and grips the pillow lying by your head tightly as he grits his teeth and fucks into you harder if it was possible.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, your entire body locks up as you let out a pathetic little cry of pleasure. You cum with a loud moan of his name, clinging desperately to him with your arms loosely wrapped around his back and your legs locked around him to keep his cock inside. Your cunt milks his cock for all its worth, squeezing spasmodically from the aftershock of your orgasm.

Jungkook moans low at the feeling around his cock as he slams himself deep a total of three times before he finally cums. His cock pulses, hot cum filling your pussy to the brim with some of it seeping from the sides of your cunt. He sits up to look down at the mess between you, whistling out of breath when he sees the creamy white slick smeared over his pelvis and your pussy.

“Fuck, made a fuckin’ mess.” He chuckles breathlessly and teasingly rubs his thumb over your neglected swollen clit, “Didn’t need to touch this lil thing to get you to cum.” He purrs.

Your thighs twitch and you twist around to avoid any touch to your sensitive cunt, “Stopppp,” you whine softly and bury your face in the pillow, “ ‘m so sleepy Kook,” you smack your lips and blink slowly, “bed’s dirty though..”

Jungkook brings you into his arms and sighs, “Looks like we’re sleeping in the guest bedroom.” He murmurs and rolls out of bed, “C’mon,” he holds his hand out, “let’s get you to bed mama.”

You smile shyly when he says it like that, slipping out on shaky legs and following after him.

“I’m never drinking like that ever again,” you quietly moan while slipping on Jungkook’s slippers and tugging the hoodie over your head, “don’t forget to bring my phone,” you say to Jungkook as you step out of the apartment.

“Got it..” He mumbles and follows after you.

You’re both obviously not in the mood for cooking or anything so Jungkook suggested the convenience store for breakfast (in this case lunch because you two slept in all morning). Jungkook walks hand in hand with you the whole way, only letting go when you both split up to get your respective items. Jungkook of course pays and helps you make both your ramen bowls while you sit by the window poking your drink and mixing it around.

“You look a hot mess,” Jungkook says when he’s walking over, “a sexy hot mess.” He cheekily adds in when you turn to give him a look. “What? I like you with smudged ass mascara and leftover lipstick, gives you that sexy bed look.” He winks.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not looking so hot either with lipstick all over your jaw.” You grin in amusement, “What did you get?”

Jungkook opens the black bag and sets all the snacks he got out onto the table, “This kimchi onigiri, uhhh sausage links, and this rolled egg thingy I don’t know.” He shrugs.

You eye the onigiri in curiosity, “Hm.” You mix your ramen around and open the seasoning packet, “Do you mind driving me to get my car? Eunwoo texted me last night saying it was gonna be ready for pick up later on, said that the battery’s charged now, he’s gonna just change the oil next.” You mumble.

“Yeah, wanna go after this? Eunwoo’s probably out on break, I can do the oil change myself.” He slurps his noodles loudly, cheekily grinning at you afterwards.

“Mm, fine with me. Just don’t fuck up my car or you’re paying for it.” You sip your drink just as loud.

Eunwoo doesn’t end up being there but he leaves Jungkook a key and a note telling him about what your car needs. Jungkook wastes no time in getting to work as he slips his shirt off and works in his white tank top. You sit in a chair just watching him work while singing silently under his breath. You can’t quite shake the uneasy feeling you get in your gut, all this—playing couple and pretending like nothing’s wrong.

It makes your heart twist bitterly seeing him like this, all domestic and shit. Even the night before when you guys were at dinner. Hell the playground was enough for you to realize what was going on. You’re not so sure you can go back to pretending like you two aren’t a thing after this. You can only hold it in so much before it all starts crumbling down.

“Babe,” Jungkook slips out from under the car, “pass me the funnel behind you, I already drained it.” He wipes his dusty cheek, “Babe?”

“Oh yeah, here.” You hand him the funnel, “What, do I have something on my face?” You say after noticing how intently he’s staring at you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “Nah, just admiring how cute my baby mama looks.” He smiles teasingly and goes back to work before you can even reply. “So, you doing anything after this? I was kinda hoping we could spend a day in watching movies and shit, ‘m still pretty hungover.”

“Yeah..” You nod, “Sounds good I’m not feeling the greatest either,” you turn to look at anything but him. You don’t know why but you’re hit with a swirl of emotions and it’s starting to sizzle under your skin and make you irritated. The more you think about it, the more agitated you slowly become.

“Hey,” he suddenly says in front of you, “got something on your mind?” His lips hover over yours before he closes the distance between you two. The kiss is sweet and gentle, it has your poor little heart throbbing inside of your chest. Jungkook’s lips smack quietly against yours, as he brings his hands up to hold the sides of your face.

You softly hum into the kiss and bring your arms around his neck. He makes a pleased noise and caresses his thumb over your cheek and jawline. It’s the sweet moments like this that have you doubting, you’re not so sure you can keep up with him anymore. He does all these sweet things and it just lulls you into a false security with him, like everything is okay and things were the way they used to be.

You want that..

Jungkook parts from the kiss and stares deep into your eyes, “You with me baby?” He say when he takes in how distracted you look.

“Yeah,” you softly whisper, “ ‘m here.” You bring him back for another passionate kiss, this time effectively blocking out all those little voices in your head.

Jungkook grunts in surprsie as he hoists you up with him, backing you into the counter nearby and swiping all the tools clear from the surface. His breath is ragged and heavy, touch quickly becoming possessive and desperate as he paws at your thighs and hips. You part your legs for him and let him step in between them, moaning quietly when his hips press over your sore cunt.

The empty garage is filled with soft panting and breathless sighs, your lips meet Jungkook’s over and over until they’re swollen and glossed over with spit n slick. You attack his neck in a flurry of kisses and pull him closer, practically hugging his body tight to yours as the two of you leave sloppy marks all over each other. You go to leave another mark but Jungkook’s quick to pull away with a quiet ‘wait, wait’.

“Get back together with me,” he suddenly pulls back, breathless and panting with wild eyes, “I want us to be a real couple—not whatever this shit is where one day you let me love on you and another you don’t.” His eyes are filled with hope as he pleads with you.

You stare at him in shock, mostly because hello the timing? You quickly shake those thoughts out and sit up, “Jungkook you can’t just ask me that out of nowhere, especially not with you standing between my thighs.” You sigh heavily, “Let’s just talk about this some other time.” You look away.

Jungkook frowns, “No, I think it’s a perfect time now. You say some other time but then you forget and play it off with work and other stuff. I just..I just wanna know where we stand, I’m tired of doing this back and forth thing baby.. It’s sending mixed signals, can’t tell whether you really want me or you’re planning to cut me out for good.”

You’re at loss this time, for the first time regarding the breakup you don’t have anything to say. It’s not something you easily know the answer to, not when you yourself is still trying to find the answers to these things. Jungkook should know by now this isn’t something that comes so easily. “Why? So you can be happy you ended up winning after what you did? So everyone can see you got your way despite being a shitty person Jungkook?”

He looks surprised like he wasn’t expecting your response, “Baby—no, where is this coming from?” He stands up intending to comfort you because he can see how quickly you’re growing upset with the way your frown deepens and tone morphs to hurt.

“Then what is it Jungkook?” You say in exasperation, “Is this gonna be your ‘I told you so’ moment? You play me like a fucking fool and come back years later with a slap on the wrist and suddenly everything is better between the two of us?” You blink the tears away, “It’s not fucking fair and you know it.” You fold your arms over your chest.

Jungkook shakes his head, “No, no, no, it’s none of that. I just wanted you to know I’m tired of going back and forth and never ending up nowhere with us..”

“Well guess what, I’m tired too Jungkook. Tired of pretending like nothing ever happened, like there isn’t a reason why we ended up like this in the first place.” You wipe your tears.

“y/n, I know things weren’t the best before and I fucked it up, I know—trust me. You don’t think I don’t regret what happened years back? It fucking eats at me every night because you’re not by my side anymore—”

“That’s the thing Jungkook! You don’t fucking get it,” you sob, “YOU were the love of my life, you were everything to me! And for you to do what you did-” you choke up and cover your mouth, “and I’m supposed to heal from that? I never did, and I never will because the person I trusted the most—who I loved so much—fucking betrayed me. Do you have any idea how I felt? You were my everything, and you fucking threw it away!” You scream in anger and frustration.

“Y-You broke me,” you hiccuped, “it’s not fair that you get to come back like nothing, ‘n now everyone’s gonna look at me like a fool because I got back together with my shitty baby daddy.” You sniffle, “I have thought about us for a while, but I’m scared because I don’t know if you’re going to do the same thing all over again.”

Jungkook’s own eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, he quietly sniffs and clears his throat, “I’m sorry y/n, I never did get the chance to but I’m sorry for everything. But not once did I stop loving you ever, you were my everything too—and you still are. Nothing about the way I’ve felt about you has changed, and it never will either. I realize how impulsive I was just now so,” he drops to his knees in front of you and holds your hands, “please y/n, let me prove to you I can still make you and Jiho happy. I don’t care if you wanna make me wait until you’re ready, I’ll be right here waiting for you. Just please, give me one last chance..”

You desperately want to say no, but you’re weak. You’re too busy clinging to every little memory of him in the past to fill that emptiness in your heart to notice that you’ve wanted him back all along. You feel the doubts begin to creep out of your body as you peer down at him, “You’ll..wait..?”

Jungkook nods, “As long as you want me to.” He whispers back.

“Okay..” You softly reply and squeeze his hands tightly, afraid that if you let him go he’ll vanish into thin air.

“Okay.” Jungkook sighs in relief, smiling up at you tenderly. He rises to his feet and brings you in for a tight hug, just relishing in your warmth and softness as he rocks the two of you side to side.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into his arms, “You’ll be here with me right?” You lay your head on his chest.

“I’ll be right here,” he hums, “standing next to you.”

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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gamermattsgf · 18 days

Text

“Cool spider…” // Tattoo artist Chris

Warnings: sextape / colleague relationship / favour for a favour trope / riding / petty Chris x reader / nose piercing!Chris / spanking kink / mommy kink / slight breeding kink / tattoo!Chris / praise kink / ownership kink / degradation kink / ‘good girl’ / creampie / unprotected sex / hair pulling / exhibitionist kink / scratch kink / tit play / overstimulation

Summary: you and Chris both work in a tattoo & piercing gallery, and your toxic ex just won’t leave you alone… so Chris decides to shut him up and put him in his place.

Author’s notes: I’m baaack. someone’s seriously got to stop me from making up fics on stuff that I’ve just randomly yapped about and blogged for fun. Me: posting about tattoos I’d think Chris would look good with. Also me: ‘-now hang on a sec that’s actually given me a great idea…’ *pulls out a notebook and starts vigorously writing shit down*.

“Gotta know, I ate her, she's so sweet, now or later. I want that all the time, all the time I'll make you all mine” - Toes Down, Loukeman

. ♱ .

You sigh, checking your phone once again before flipping it back around to face the desk. You shake your head and put it into your hands to rub it slowly in exhaustion. This is the fifth time he’s texted you today and your patience with him was slowly thinning.

‘You good?’

Chris mumbles absentmindedly from his hunched over position at the counter. He has his shirt off - as he usually does - to keep himself cool as the ceiling fan whirls above your heads. You look at his back, and the way his light wash blue jeans wrap around his lean waist lowly.

His right arm moves languidly as he sketches out a stencil for one of his clients, the graphite of his lead pencil scratching against his favourite sketchbook soothingly in the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the tattoo parlour.

You admire the jet black ink adorning his torso, that stretches from the bottom of his spine to cover the expanse of his shoulder blades in jaggedly aggressive patterns, the back tattoo attractively sat over his otherwise soft skin.

The muscles wrapped around his shoulders move as he draws, and you can’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of them.

‘Yeah… I’m fine’

You reply, not at all convinced by your own weak attempt of trying to mask your obvious distaste for the sight of the messages on your Lock Screen whilst you shuffle about trying to clean a needle gun.

‘Oh really? Cos’ I’m hearin’ a great deal of sighing for your corner of the room and not alotta action…’

Chris sarcastically snorts back, his voice containing buckets of care masked within the joking manner. He doesn’t even bother turning his face, far too absorbed by the current drawing of a tiger he was doing on someone’s chest in a couple of weeks time whilst he expertly shaded in the small black stripes of its rippling body.

You pause for a minute, debating on whether or not you should actually tell Chris about what’s been going on. It’s your ex. And Chris doesn’t like him at all. So how is he going to react when you tell him he’s been quite literally harassing you for the past couple of weeks?

Not well is your guess…

Even though you two are co-workers, you share an extremely close relationship and tell each other practically everything, which sometimes readily blurs the lines between your strictly professional work ethics.

‘Ugh fine, it’s Max, he’s just sort of been bothering me lately…’

This catches Chris’ attention, and his head perks up. Craning his neck he looks back at you with narrowing eyes of suspicious icy blue.

From this angle over his shoulder you can see the gleam of his silver nose ring, and his torso twists just enough to reveal a new tattoo. One that you actually did on him yourself.

It was a delicate but bold patchwork tattoo of a large black widow spider, its long spindly legs stretching across the expanse of his ribs and looking like it was using them to scale up his chest. You struggle to hide a smile at being able to remember doing it on him so well.

You can easily recall the faint buzz of the needle gun and Chris’ soft occasional groans as you punched in the bulbous back of the widow’s body onto his skin that rose and fell to the rhythm of his exhales.

It must have been a sensitive part of Chris’ body because his breathing had been raggedy and his eyes had been squeezed shut for a majority of the tattoo. You had faintly mumbled ‘cool spider… you draw it yourself?’ To which he had responded with a grunt and an affectionate ‘duh’.

Whenever his eyes had opened to look at you they had been dilated heavily, with either pain or pleasure, you’re not quite sure.

He glares over at you and shakes his head. ‘Not this fucking idiot again… what’s he done this time?’.

Chris’ patience for Max has never been there, and he’s often one to be petty about every single move your ex boyfriend makes.

Chris has never liked him and so rejoiced when he heard from you that the break up had been messy on his side of the bargain.

Max was trouble, and so you had done the right thing when breaking things off with him. However, Max wasn’t one to easily let go, and he had been pestering you to take him back ever since.

‘Just being his normal asshole self I suppose’.

You’re deliberately vague with Chris, because you don’t want him to get all riled up like he usually does. He had given up his sketch now and had fully turned to lean his back and elbows onto the counter, knowing that you telling him this information was far more important than the task at hand.

His eyes then flick to the door of the studio, where the welcome sign hangs in the centre of the glass window pane. All around the door are frames of hundreds of different tattoos, all in the different styles of each of the employees that work here. No one else is working today though, it’s just Chris and yourself maning the store.

Chris is a primarily black work realist, and so his designs take up quite a lot of time, their lifelike splendour forking cash loads of money into his bank account whenever a piece is completed.

Multiple clients of his have been here for months as Chris prefers to take his artwork in sessions so the healing isn’t as tenuous.

Quite a few of his previous works have been photographed and framed about the waiting area, just to showcase his impressive ability.

Your area of speciality is more in line with fine line tattoos, you prefer delicacy over all else and likewise, some of your bigger works have been photographed and framed about the shop.

‘You got any more scheduled clients with appointments today?’ Chris spontaneously enquires, and you can tell simply by his face that he is pondering some form of idea within his head that makes you nervous. You hesitate with your response.

‘…Emm- no, I don’t think so?’.

Chris nods mischievously and smirks with his mouth open and his tongue pushing against the side of his teeth playfully.

‘I’m gonna need a little bit more of an explanation than just ‘he’s being an asshole’ then, cherry…’ Chris sing-songs as he pushes himself from off of his slouched position and starts to exit from behind the counter.

The nickname ‘Cherry’ had caught on fairly quickly between the two of you, because Chris had thought that you honestly looked way too sweet to be working in a downtown, grungy tattoo shop. After his first usage of the fond name it had just kind of stuck and now always sounded like molten amber honey dripping from his mouth.

He puts ‘he’s being an asshole’ in knowing quotation marks because he already knows how much of an asshole Max is. He’s experienced it before whenever your ex has decided to show up to your place of work and be a nuisance.

You’re pretty sure you almost had to hold Chris back from planting a right hook into his jaw one time because he had knocked over a bunch of new inks the store had just purchased for everyone’s clients.

Chris’ jaw had clenched immeasurably and you had quickly veered in front of him to plant your palms onto his collarbones after he had taken a large stride towards Max.

You had held him back gently, telling him to take several deep breaths and keep cool whilst you dealt with it.

Well… your version of dealing with it was calmly escorting him out of the shop and reassuring him that you’d see each other later before meekly returning back into the reception area to face a fuming Chris who immediately rolled his eyes and spat a quick ‘I’m gonna ban that bitch from coming in here next time he shows his ratty lookin’ face…’

You had simply sighed, shook your head, and tenderly patted him on the shoulder.

At the present, you squirm nervously when you see the way Chris walks right up to the door, before twisting the heavy duty lock on it and flipping the welcome sign to the side that displayed a big ‘closed’ on the front that was visible to passing strangers.

‘Chris it’s not that big of a deal honestly!’ You try and laugh it off as Chris spins back around. He then walks right up to you.

Grabbing one of the other chairs at the desk you were sitting at, he turns it around so that he can comfortably straddle it.

‘Uhh, well that’s where you’re wrong because it just so happens that my favourite girl’s ex is bothering her, and if she’s gotta problem with it… then so do I’ he sassily bites back, referring to you in the third person as he rests his taut forearms onto the spine of the chair, which gives himself something to lean on.

You have to ignore the way your stomach flips when he calls you his favourite girl, and you shyly flit your eyes to the floor whilst still fumbling around with the tattoo gun.

‘Well um… he just- he just keeps uhh’ you start, stuttering and having to sigh in utter frustration at not even being able to articulate your words properly.

Suddenly your eyes feel hot, and they sting a little. You are not going to cry in front of him. You panic when your voice wobbles and try to regain your composure as Chris looks at you with a worried expression.

‘Hey- hey… s’okay cherry, s’alright. Take your time, I’m here’.

Chris notices your flustered state and coos gentle reassurance at you whilst stretching one of his hands out to softly stroke the ball of your shoulder, right on the section of naked skin where the fabric of your top straps don’t quite reach.

You want to say that Chris is just being friendly, but somehow, the way he touches you tells a different story. It could have just been a harmless pat, but instead he had curled the knuckles of his hand and used them to soothingly skim up and down your skin, slowly, repetitively… almost sensually.

Chris liked any excuse to touch you. You were so soft and supple, a major contrast to his own skin. And he hated seeing a man like that crumple you up like a simple ball of paper and toss you into the trash.

You take one last stuttering breath before continuing.

Gazing at Chris’ soft smile and focusing on the calming gleam of his nose piercing, you find yourself relaxing once again as you take your time to look at each of his individual statement pieces whilst relaying your story.

His silver nose ring, his two lobe piercings that were decorated with spiked metal hoops, and his helix piercing, that came in the form of a small snake charm. It shone in the natural light of the room as it slithered up the expanse of his cartilage and provided a nice distraction for you.

‘I don’t know… h-he’s just saying these disgusting things about my body, and- and how I’m never going to find someone that will treat me better than him in bed. Just general filthy shit like that…’ you mumble, feeling absolutely humiliated and degraded at having to tell Chris about what Max has been saying to you as you sniffle and rub your nose.

As you explain yourself, the motion of Chris stroking your arm slows up significantly, and his little smile fades with every word you speak to him. His eyes narrow, something you noticed he does whenever he’s seething with rage.

‘Gimme your phone, I wanna see these texts’ Chris quips demandingly, using the hand that was once rubbing your skin to unfold itself and silently ask for your phone.

You sigh and hand it to him without much of a fight. You know that there’s no use in trying to argue with Chris when he gets like this. He’s driven, and once he has an idea there’s rarely anything you can do to deter him from it.

He unlocks your phone, already knowing your password, and starts to scroll through the endless shower of sexually abusive messages. You bite your lip as you look at him reading them over.

He sits on the backwards chair with his jean-clad thighs casually spread out, still one arm resting on top of the spine whilst the other one holds the phone and vigorously scrolls downwards.

You then flick your eyes to his face, and the way his rosy lips wet themselves as they quietly announce some of the words that he reads back to himself. The further down he goes the more furrowed his brows get.

Suddenly he shakes his head with an angry tick and slams your phone face down onto the table. You jump slightly at this, and blink at a Chris that had immediately shot to a stand.

‘That’s it, m’not dealing with this shit anymore. If he can’t leave you the fuck alone then I’ll make him.’

You look at him in confusion.

‘What’s that supposed to mean…?’ you shyly trail off but your question is shortly answered as soon as Chris bends down to level with you and seamlessly digs his palms into your thighs so that he can pluck you up from off of your chair.

You yelp a little in shock, your heartbeat thrumming against your ribcage before you quietly recover as Chris curls your legs around his hips. Upon touch, your hands instinctively fly to grip onto the back of his neck, his skin being warm and tepid.

The scruff of his long hair feels like satin tickling over your fingers and Chris groans in achievement as soon as he feels your thighs tense against his waist.

He’s been waiting for an excuse to do this.

‘Max is tellin’ you that you’re never gonna get a better fuck than him? Well I’m about to prove him wrong, s’that okay with you, cherry?’ Chris asks, not really expecting no for an answer as he starts to walk over the squeaking floorboards to the backrooms of the shop.

He knows exactly where he’s going and something deep within your core flutters at this assertive kind of attitude.

Chris has always been the extremely blunt and forward type of guy- if you looked pretty that day, he’d tell you, and make it obvious that he was attracted to you.

Today was no different, you could tell he had every intention of fucking you and making it extremely clear to Max just how good he was going to do it.

‘Y-yeah’ is just about all you can muster in your shaky state.

As you look down at Chris’ face, his chocolatey waves tussle in a rather wild-looking way whilst nestled about his pierced ears. Your fingers timidly skim about his neck, and one of them draws nervous patterns over the black bat tattoo situated behind his right ear that he had gotten for his brother a year ago.

‘That’s my girl’ he praises cockily as he barges through the beaded entrance way into one of the client operating rooms. There’s a black leather stretcher in the centre of the room and a stool sitting idle right beside it where the artist sits.

Chris goes straight for the client table though.

He smirks a toothy grin as he plops you down onto the spongy leather and you find it within yourself to crack an equally as excited smile. He nudges open your legs so that he can stand in between them and weighs his hands down onto your hips, pressing his thumbs into your bones and rubbing them fondly.

‘Did Max kiss you at all when you two fucked?’ He asks breathlessly with his cerulean eyes lilting down to your lips hungrily.

He’s itching to get all over you. He’s been dying to taste your tongue on his for ages and it just so happens that this posed as the perfect, sneaky way to do so.

‘Well, hm… not that much, but I guess a-’ you start to explain, but ‘not much’ is enough of a pathetic answer for Chris to fall forward and engulf your lips in between his before you can finish anyway.

Your little muffled whine of shock is swallowed by a Chris that attaches himself to your bottom lip quickly.

Winding one of his hands behind your back, he uses that - and the other one gripping your hip - to yank your body towards his. You two stay flushed together, and you can feel Chris’ throbbing prick against the seam of your pants already. He’s hard, and clearly pent up for you behind his low-waisted jeans.

‘That’s not good enough’ he mumbles, almost in a tongue-drunken stupor against your lips, criticising Max so that he can subtly defend his choice to kiss you.

Really, he had no need to, but fuck did he want to.

You don’t complain, in fact, you simply sigh at how close Chris is. You can feel his nose delicately skimming against your cheek the more he twists the side of his face to gain better access to you, and you can’t help but lust for the way his dewy lips wrap around your own.

The contrast between his cold fingertips brushing against your body and his hot tongue leeching out to slip into your open mouth makes you shiver.

‘N-no you’re completely right… that’s not good enough’ you coquettishly add on to the conversation you two have in between kisses. As you shit talk Max together, you only encourage Chris to take further jabs at him.

‘And what about these pretty little things here…? Did he touch these enough?’.

Chris’ nose trails down the line of your jaw to dip and run along the jugular vein of your neck whilst he pants desperately. He holds your sat figure into his standing leant one with one hand gripping your ass whilst the other one trails up to squeeze against one of your braless tits.

Wanting Chris to play with them, your blushing figure shakes its head and you swallow thickly. ‘No…’.

Chris hums a casual ‘huh’ in playfulness before the hand playing with it decides to slip itself under your shirt for better access. You heavily hiss and arch your back as soon as skin on skin contact is reached and Chris gingerly touches your peaked nipple.

‘You make me feel like such a pervert when you don’t wear a bra to shifts we do together because I stare at them all the time…’ Chris confesses as he gently kneads one of them within his big palm. Whilst he does this, his face buries itself into your neck to pepper sprinkles of sloppy kisses all over your skin.

‘What if I told you I do it on purpose… I like it when you look…’ you breathe with your head knocked back in pleasure. Chris stops his assault on your neck to gaze at you with raised eyebrows of shock.

‘Fuck. Max was an idiot for fumbling you…’

This makes both your heart flutter and your core drip. You like Chris’ praise a lot more than you like Max’s degradation, and make sure to let Chris know this by giving him another kiss.

‘S’mommy gonna let me suck on her tits?’ He ponders in a feigned babyish voice against your lips, the sweet lilt of his sensual tone almost making you melt into the client’s table.

Your needy reply of ‘yes’ is soon followed by an immediate response from Chris, who slowly reaches into his back pocket for his phone.

He slides it out and then presents it in front of your face with his brows raised.

‘And is mommy gonna let me film it so that I can send it to Max and let him see me having my treat?’.

Your eyes flick to the phone, then to Chris’ expectant face, absolutely drowning in lust at the thought of Chris wanting to film himself sucking on your tits. You nod without hesitation, and Chris smirks in victory.

He’s definitely using this to touch himself later.

Chris quickly fumbles around with his phone in excitement, scrubbing his home screen into his camera roll before he’s pressing the small red button to record himself propping it up onto the counter right next to where you were sitting.

You watch within a trance as Chris feeds his hands into the bottom of your top to sensually slide it right up your ribs. He then runs it over the top of your tits and leaves it to rest above them with a purr of ‘good girl’.

You feel your knees get physically weaker at the sight of Chris veering his face down into your tits, his mouth almost feathers against them as both of you look at the camera at the same time.

Chris has a little victorious smirk on his face, that he smugly flashes to his phone before turning back in and gently kissing your nipple.

He can’t stop his conniving smile as you seal your eyes shut and throw your head back, whimpering with your fingers combed into the back of his hair and tugging on it. Chris makes a show of poking out his tongue and licking you before he fully kisses one of your tits into his mouth to suck on it.

He moans a little starved whimper at the feeling of your soft flesh in his mouth whilst his tongue rolls and his teeth clamp down onto you.

His hands get grabby as you pant, listening to the way the microphone of the camera absorbs the sloppy sounds of him sucking on your skin whilst he kisses and licks wherever he can.

‘That feel good huh?’ Chris mumbles into you, and you whine in response with a stuttered ‘so- so good’. He nods cockily, eying the camera with your second tit already in between his teeth. ‘Yeah? This the best mouth you’ve ever had?’.

Struggling to fight off his smile at the comment he completely stole from Max, he knows it’ll make your ex’s blood boil, especially when you reply with an instantaneous shout of, ‘fuck- yes, I- I need more baby!’.

‘You want more?’ He drawls temptingly, pulling away from your chest that was now red and glistening, some sections littered with subtle teeth marks and some with purpling hickies.

‘I’ll give you more baby’ he laughs through his teeth before pressing his fingertips onto your core.

‘Hope you’re soaking for me, you’re gunna need it’ he quips before lightly trailing his hand up to the button of your zipper.

Your core clenches again when he pops it open, the insinuation that you need to be extra wet for him because of his size making you want to pass out in horniness.

He opens the front of your jeans before feeding his hands underneath your thighs so that he can pull you towards him and also force you onto your back to tug your jeans down.

After that, he watches the way you squirm when he sticks his fingers into the side of your sheer panties. In view of the camera, the pad of his thumb swipes up your slit as he checks your sensitivity himself.

‘Awe angel you are soaked… what a good girl for me’.

His sweet praise melts over you in the best way possible, and you can’t help but get shy and cover up your eyes to smile.

Sometimes you forget that the camera is there, but Chris never does, and he glances over at it constantly to smirk as if Max is already watching on the other end of the line before turning his attention back to admire you.

‘I’m gonna make that pretty pussy feel so fucking good momma’ Chris boldly states as he starts to fumble around with his chunky and glamorously rhinestoned belt buckle. The leather of it flaps and his buckle gives a metallic jingle whilst he undoes it, his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the downwards slant his head holds.

‘Please- I really need you’ you mumble breathlessly, spreading your legs even further in reaction to seeing the stretch of his cock against his white Calvin Klein boxers as soon as he lets his jeans drop to the floor with a heavy crumple.

From here you can see his thigh tattoo of a crooked spiders web, done in extremely fine ink, delicate but dark.

‘I know you need me baby I know- be patient alright?’ He shushes you with a reassuring coo, before sliding to the side of you and hopping up onto the table himself. He positions himself right in front of his still recording phone so that he can get the best angle for this.

‘Why don’t you go ahead an’ take off those panties for the camera sweet girl… do it for me?’.

Chris’ whiny sounding voice is just so sugary and compelling. You’re pretty sure you would do anything he asked if it really came to that extreme because along with his voice, his lips and eyes really did the trick for you.

Chris stutters a breath as soon as he pushes his hand down his boxers to take ahold of his hot, silky cock, it’s skin already wet with precome at just how divine you had sounded whilst he was attached to your tits.

He tightens his fist to squeeze himself and throbs in his hand, his mouth dropping open and his shoulders heaving as you slide off the table and strip from your clothes fully.

As soon as you’re done, you can feel your wetness trickling and sloshing about your folds, and so you squeeze your thighs together when looking at Chris for his next instruction.

Chris hungrily gazes down to your panties that lie in a messy heap on top of your jeans. ‘Gimme those?’ He commands and gestures for you to grab a hold of your panties and give them over to him, which you do obediently and without question.

Chris grasps ahold of them and balls them up into his fist before smirking at the camera once again. ‘These are mine now… so’s your pussy’.

You turn red at this low and beastly remark, trying hard not to pounce on top of Chris for saying it. He talks so smoothly. It’s as if every word his mouth forms puts you under a lemony haze of pleasure and you just can’t get enough of it.

You just don’t understand how he can keep this up when you yourself already look like a fucked-out hot mess.

‘I’m all yours Chris’

You practically flee into his awaiting arms, and he hoists your bare and pink centre over his lap.

Kissing your tits again, he grips onto your fleshy thighs and moans a whimper whilst side eyeing the camera in ultimate possessiveness, just to make a show of it being him who’s sucking your tits, and not Max.

He’s going to feel so smug and proud of himself as soon as he sends this his way.

‘Can I have your cock Chris, please?’ You beg, stroking his waves of hair once again to butter him up - not that you’d really need to work all that much to have his cock in the first place…

‘Of course you can Cherry, you’ve been so good for me’ Chris replies as his fingertips stroke against your stretch marks, before he leans in and whispers ‘help yourself…’.

You glance down to the tent in his boxers with your lip bitten and a giddy little smirk on your face. After Chris invites you, you waste no time in pulling his weeping cock from out of the restraints of his boxers.

The hip tattoo he has of a Cupid with angel wings, a halo and a winking face soon makes itself known to you after you tug his underwear down a little further. The ink of the little boy’s heart-encrusted bow and arrow cheekily point right to the base of Chris’ cock, and so you crack a smile, shaking your head fondly at Chris’ inappropriate but witty humour.

He’s thick and throbs in your hand, his tip sticky and slick as it pulses a light pink taffy colour whilst a thick blue vein pokes itself out from the side of his length to travel right down to his base. ‘Fuck’ you breathe. Chris looks at you cockily and is very much pleased with your wanton response.

‘Want you to sit on it till it hurts and you can’t no more precious girl’ he mumbles as he hitches your hips up into his hands and lifts you above him. You nod with a little ‘Uhuh’, your stomach flipping and oozing to feel the stretch of him. He’s bigger than Max, and the thought makes you careen in pleasure.

You almost forget that you two are both supposed to be at work, because all of this feels so private and intoxicating, and the implication of Chris making it into sex tape gives you life.

As soon as you’re placed on top of him, you hold his base so that you can sink down properly, and both of you choke out whines at how fucking amazing it feels.

‘Shit… still tight honey… has Max really been using you properly or is his cock just that small?’.

Chris can’t help it. He gets off on criticising your priggish ex boyfriend because he truly fucking hates his guts. And damn does it feel good to be fucking you with the intention of letting the man himself know through the recording of it.

‘Fuck, I feel so full’ you speak into the air.

You then have to bite your hand so that you don’t draw tears because of the burning stretch Chris gives you. It’s almost unbearably uncomfortable for the first minute of bottoming out.

But then it stops being uncomfortable and starts making you squirm again at needing some form of friction to move yourself.

So you do.

Lifting your hips slightly, you slip back downwards and grind forwards at the same time whilst Chris looks up at you with star-ridden irises. They twinkle in the light and he pants heavily after every time you move.

He soon starts to naturally move himself, needing to respond to you in some sort of way.

He loves watching your tits bounce whilst you rise and fall onto his cock, the sticky slickness of it slapping within his ears and making him want to come all over your insides already. You squeeze him so fucking well, and he equally stretches you out to the limit.

The rough skin of his prick steadily rubs against your walls and ignites an explosion of sensitivity within your centre whenever Chris pushes himself far enough to hit your g-spot. He’s so big he almost bulges from your stomach.

‘Who owns this pussy, who does it belong to?’ He barks as you squeeze your eyes closed and scrunch your nose up, having to slam your head onto his shoulder because of your overstimulation in pleasure.

You stutter out a quick ‘ugh- y-you’ as you feel Chris’ fingers grab onto your hips because of their slowing roll. He digs them into your skin and starts to move you himself at an even faster pace which makes you whine even louder.

‘Sorry… not quite sure Max heard you- can you say that again for me Cherry?’ Chris meanly rebutts and makes your cheeks flame red after he actually takes his palm and harshly swats it against the side of your thigh. You yelp at the brash cracking sound the sweaty skin-on-skin contact creates, but nevertheless still cry a humiliated ‘you!’.

Chris praises you immediately after with a soothing ‘that’s right… good girl’, before starting up his sly and conniving antics once again.

‘And whose name are you gonna be screaming from now on hmm?’.

Chris’ little taunting hum is fucking petty. But also, just what you need to finally cum.

‘Yours Chris! Fuck- all yours!!’.

You’re almost shouting as you arch your spine and throw your head back in ecstasy whilst your legs quiver and an almighty wave of euphoria rushes over your whole entire being.

‘Awe baby… cumming already? I was just getting started…’ Chris coos cockily as he lets go of one of your hips to soothingly stroke against your back with a pretty pout on his lips.

However that pout doesn’t stay for long because it struggles to fight the smirk that quickly overtakes his facial expression at the thought of how quickly he had made you cum.

He glances at the camera once more, to admire the position the both of you were in with dilated eyes, before focusing back onto you and speedily forcing your hips up and down a couple more times to finish himself off.

You squeak and claw at him in overstimulated pain, whining for him to slow down, but all he does is gently hush you in comfort. ‘I know shhh, I know. Wanna make sure I fill you up nice and good though baby’.

His voice is so gentle, and in lulls you into a drooling stupor with tears in your eyes as you claw at his tattooed back with your sharp nails. That’s going to leave heafty scratch marks.

Chris is tempted to wipe them away, but doesn’t have enough time before he’s groaning loudly and his tip is uncontrollable squirting out thick ropes of cum.

He bounces your hips a couple more times to get rid of as much as he possibly can. He wants to see it practically leaking from out of your abused hole. After he thinks you’ve milked him dry, he lets go of your bruised waist and you crumple back down into his embrace.

He rubs your back as you try to desperately regain your breath with your core raw, stinging and slimy with Chris’ cum.

‘There’s my good girl… taking all of me like that. Swear I’ll give you my babies next time you take me that well.’ He absentmindedly praises you for the last time, and you find it within yourself to laugh in disbelief, shaking your head before you slap his shoulder and lean upwards to look at him in the eyes once more.

‘Okay… you’ve proved your point. Now stop recording so I can kiss you a little more.’

Your thumbs stroke the bags underneath his eyes, and his smile is so sunny that you’re sure it could have opened up flowers on a dewy spring morning.

‘Yes ma’am…’

. ♱ .

Later that evening, Chris had sat alone in the tattoo parlour.

He had told you that you could go home early and that he’d sanitise the rooms and lock up as a special treat for you.

You had done as you were told and left a while ago, which left Chris to watch back the sex tape that you two had made earlier with a mean and satisfied smirk slapped over his lips.

He had rewatched it about 3 times, admiring the way both of you had moved with the volume all the way up to listen to your heavenly sounding whimpers. He had replayed his favourite bits a great deal and was fucking obsessed. He couldn’t help himself.

He had then exited the camera app and went straight into Instagram, searching up Max’s account profile to slide into his DMs.

With one final smirk, he had bitten his lip victoriously and selected the video of you and him together before attaching it and typing one final thing before clicking the send button and locking his phone.

Might wanna think next time you make bold allegations about how she’ll never find a better D x

. ♱ .

Author’s notes p.2: guys I’m actually so sorry for disappearing off the face of Tumblr for fuck knows how long without an explanation. Truthfully there isn’t really much of an explanation apart from the fact that I’ve simply been too busy to write (and have also had major writers block atm- hence me and @luv4kozume collab taking so long lol). BUT I’m back with something that has actually turned into one of my favourite pieces of writing on this blog, so I hope it’s been worth the wait!! I love all of you guys for asking where I’ve been and equally as much for missing me. I’ve missed writing for you guys so much and am absolutely obsessed with tattoo artist!Chris, also don’t worry you guys, you’ll get cherry popper 3 one of these days lmao… Anyways, until next time cherry pies!! 🍒

Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattslolita @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader

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hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for.

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift.

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too.

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed.

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight.

You couldn’t.

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair.

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words.

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely.

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis.

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed.

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.”

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it.

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.”

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable.

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?”

You exhaled, he inhaled.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek.

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in.

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.”

Your body panics, but you will it to relax.

“Does that come with the premium subscription?”

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps.

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms.

“I get to take Bam?”

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?”

Probably not. Definitely not.

“But what about Bam?”

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words.

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.”

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell.

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it.

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.”

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly.

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows.

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead.

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it.

Jungkook groans.

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity.

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back.

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body.

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers.

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline.

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it.

You want him.

It began with a ring and ended right here.

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled.

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss.

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t.

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago.

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you.

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper.

Jungkook grips your waist hard.

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy.

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples.

“Kiss me, then.”

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth.

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step.

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.”

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles.

“Bam, house.”

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that.

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him.

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.”

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him.

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists.

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.”

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?”

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them.

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list.

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course.

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.”

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting.

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?”

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact.

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?”

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties.

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.”

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.”

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.”

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself.

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him.

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears.

No attachment, no liking.

Just sex.

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm.

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted.

You broke him.

And now you have to face the repercussions.

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal.

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all.

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.”

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have.

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it.

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break.

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in.

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm.

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is.

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid.

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening.

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning.

A lump forms in your throat.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship.

Flowery or deceitful?

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.”

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you.

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps.

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.”

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.”

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened.

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum.

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him.

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun.

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin.

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing.

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself.

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long.

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?”

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice.

“Of course I trust you.”

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.”

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline.

“Are you scared?”

You’re an empty canvas.

“Not anymore.”

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?”

“Okay.”

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?”

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.”

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt.

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set.

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy.

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks.

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.”

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie.

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?”

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod.

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child.

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs.

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red.

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them.

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach.

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?”

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.”

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?”

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy.

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features.

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good.

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.”

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens.

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs.

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you.

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear. “How do you touch yourself?”

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat.

Jungkook sees you.

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer.

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind.

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax.

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side.

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise.

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips.

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you.

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.”

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you.

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around.

“Feels good, baby?”

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.”

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring.

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?”

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted.

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff.

“Did so well for me.”

The whisper takes you back and you awake.

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good.

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?”

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change.

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.”

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth.

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy.

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks.

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration.

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.”

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is.

Musk, vanilla, wood.

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout.

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew.

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.”

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?”

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos.

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts.

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully.

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?”

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.”

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.”

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number.

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?”

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.”

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare.

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him.

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?”

You nod. “So bad.”

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough.

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?”

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.”

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?”

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.”

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance.

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth.

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him.

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again.

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go.

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge.

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore.

Neither, evidently, can he.

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands.

So vulnerable.

You ache.

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head.

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth.

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets.

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny.

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head.

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.”

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan.

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind.

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin.

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?”

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it.

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans.

“Talk to me.”

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk.

He stares you down.

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling.

“I won’t play with you, then.”

Panic. “No.”

He cocks a brow at you. “No?”

Silence.

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm.

“Jungkook.”

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs.

“Beg.”

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you.

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You groan in frustration.

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.”

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it.

“Where?”

A challenge. Your throat dries up.

“There.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that.

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.”

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone.

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that.

“Lick my clit, please.”

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.

“Like this?”

You choke out a moan.

“Yes, please.”

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?”

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy.

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.”

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you.

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens.

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you.

Daddy and little girl.

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls.

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror.

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat.

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.”

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell.

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?”

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin.

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens.

“But what if it doesn’t fit?”

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake.

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.”

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected.

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him.

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow.

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head.

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.”

You nod, trusting him.

He pecks you. Smiles.

“How many orgasms are we at?”

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You obliterated my expectations.”

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.”

You blush, eyes twinkling.

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.”

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad.

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness.

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss.

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel.

“I don’t stop coming.”

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?”

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?”

You scoff. “Just one.”

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?”

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently.

He didn’t break his promise.

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides.

And there you feel it.

The sensation unlike any other.

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?”

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms.

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.”

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come.

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you.

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?”

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep.

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth.

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much.

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.”

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam.

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.”

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.”

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak.

“Please, come for me.”

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?”

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.”

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat.

Jungkook grunts.

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.”

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length.

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all.

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way.

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all.

“Good girl. Good little princess.”

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?”

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes.

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 22 days

Text

His Biggest Prize

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut!

After Australian GP, Lewis was counting down the seconds until he got home to you and the kids. It was not a good weekend for him. Not at all and now all he wanted, all he desperately needed was to find comfort in your arms.

It was late at night, close to midnight, when you heard the door of your shared home open. You and Roscoe were lying on the sofa in the living room under a blanket waiting for Lewis. Your two children, Harper and Miles, have been sleeping cause it was long past their bedtime, and your eyes were slowly closing too, but you knew that Lewis needed you and you wanted to be there for him, awake.

You quickly crawled out from under the blanket, waking a snoring Roscoe in the process, and hurried to the door.

"Baby" You welcome him in with a tight hug leaning your head on his shoulder and leaving a lot of soft kisses on his neck.

"Hey, love" He pulls you tighter to him breathing in your scent that calms him right away.

"How are you?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything. He gives you a smile, but his eyes look terribly sad. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be there with you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Don't worry, baby, I'm okay now. I don't wanna talk about it, I just want to go to bed with you." He says taking your hands in his and softly kissing your knuckles. "Are the kids asleep?"

"Yeah, they wanted to wait for you, but I told them you'll be home late so they'll see you in the morning."

"Good, good."

"Let's go to bed, yeah?"

As soon as you got into bed Lewis pulled you all the way to him holding you tightly as if you were gonna slip out of his arms every second. He was so exhausted that it took him only minutes to drift of to sleep with his head resting on yours.

The next morning you were the first one to wake up, a bit earlier than usual. Your body was still pressed against Lewis' feeling his hot breath against the back of your neck and his morning erection unconsciously poking at your lower back.

One of Lewis' oversized t-shirts served as your nightgown every night under which you were wearing only panties so you pulled it up revealing your butt and rubbing it over the bulge in his boxers making him moan in his sleep.

Normally the kids wake you up every day, but since you got ahead of them this morning, you decided to use that time to show your man how much you missed him, how much he is loved, to show him that he is forever the champion in your eyes.

First you turned and placed a few short gentle kisses on his lips before straddling him, slowly grinding your hips against his crotch and running your hands over his firm tattooed chest.

A smile spread across his face when you leaned down and kissed him below his ear whispering "Good morning handsome" It took him a few seconds to open his eyes and realize your position.

"What a sight to wake up to..You on top of me," His hands find your waist pulling you closer into him. "If I'm not the luckiest man in the world, then I don't know who is. Good morning baby"

"Did you sleep well?" You ask still slowly grinding against him. Your panties were staring to soak with your wetness as you feel his rock hard cock through the thin material pressed against your folds.

"I sleep best next to you" He moans at the friction that you're creating between you two. His hand reaches for your, his, t-shirt pulling it up a little so he can have a better view to the junction of your body.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And what have I done to deserve such a special morning treatment?" He asks admiring you, his fingers pulling the strings of your panties up making your lips part and groan.

"Just wanted to remind you how much I love you before the kids wake up" You tug at the waistband of his boxers pulling them down his thighs and taking his thick cock into your hands stroking him up and down at, for him, excruciatingly slow pace.

"Fuckk, baby" He sighs running his hands over his face and through his hair. His hips raising up begging you to take him.

"Baby, don't tease" He pleads, but you can't help it. You bring your face dangerously close to his shaft swirling your tongue over his tip. He hisses squeezing his eyes shut as you start kissing it, sucking on it and collecting the pre-cum that started dripping out. "I swear I'm gonna cum in your mouth if you don't stop"

As soon as you move and straddle him again, he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes and with the other he moves your panties aside. His fingers quickly glide over your wet slits stopping at your aching clit tapping it and rubbing small circles on it.

"You gonna ride me?" He asks and you nod impatiently. "C'mon baby, sit on my cock, show me how you do it" Before you slid yourself down on his length, he sat up and leaned his back against the headboard because this way it was much more intimate, he wanted to have you as close to him as possible while watching you ride him.

Lewis wasn't a loud guy, but he loved that you were. It drove him crazy listening to you whimper, moan, scream out his name in bed. But this time he had to make sure you were as quiet as you could be because you didn't want to wake up the kids. So when you sunk down on him, Lewis quickly covered your mouth with his hand shushing your whimpers.

"Shh, baby, you gotta be quiet okay? Can you do that for me?" He asked and you nodded. His thumb slips inside your mouth and you quickly get to work sucking in your cheeks his eyes never leaving yours. "Such a good girl. You're so hot, fuck"

His lips attack yours aggressively pushing his tongue inside while his hands grasp your butt guiding it up and down on his cock, setting the pace he wanted.

"You like that, baby? You like how I'm taking you?" You murmur against his lips. "So big Lew-uh"

"Yes, my girl riding me so good. Your pussy feels so good, so perfect for me." His teeth bite your nipple through your t-shirt making you wince as the pain and pleasure mingle.

You know that time is running fast and that the kids could wake up at any moment so the rhythm of your hips quickens and you start riding him faster and harder wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You gonna cum around me?" He grunts as he feels your walms clench around him. Before you can even confirm, your body trembles and your head falls into the crook of his neck biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming as you come undone around him.

"That's it, yes, yes, ahh. So pretty when you cum" He leans backwards so that he can lift you up and start thrusting himself hard inside you. The sight of you already worn out from his cock makes him twitch pushing him to the edge. "Shit, I'm gonna fill you up, shiiit baby"

As he finishes he doesn't pull out but stays buried deep inside you. You fall on his chest, both of you gasping for air he cooes you telling you how good his pretty girl did as his hands start rubbing your back.

"To be yours, that's the biggest prize" He says lifting up your chin to look you in the eyes and you smile shyly as your heart flutters at his comment.

"You're forever my champ Lew"

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fluff #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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steddieas-shegoes · 14 days

Text

Steve arriving at a hotel for a work conference for his dad’s company. He hates it there, he’s miserable, he’s constantly trying to figure out what he actually wants to do with his life.

It’s late when he gets there and the hotel is fully booked because of a concert happening.

He gets his key card after waiting for 30 minutes to check in.

He opens the hotel room door to find it is already occupied by a guy with a whole lot of tattoos all over his very naked and still dripping from a shower body.

Obviously he panics a bit and wonders how the hell this could’ve happened and Eddie panics a little because of safety (turns out he’s the singer of the band performing the following night!)

They try to call the front desk but the line is busy and Steve already dreads having to go back and wait in the line downstairs.

Eddie offers to let him just stay and they’ll fix it in the morning.

“Plenty of room in a king for both of us.”

Which may be true, but Steve is an octopus when he shares a bed and he knows he will end up in Eddie’s space. Should he warn him? Probably. Does he? Absolutely not.

Steve rushes through a shower and hops into bed, making small talk with Eddie about his life in a band, ignores questions about what he does as much as he can because he doesn’t feel like explaining he’s just a puppet for his dad’s never ending business career.

He falls asleep listening to Eddie’s soft, deep tone.

And of course when he wakes up, he’s got his legs and arms wrapped around Eddie anywhere he can reach. His drool is drying on Eddie’s chest and he’s coming to terms with the fact that his dick was definitely pressed against Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie’s kind enough not to say anything about it, just squeezes Steve’s arm and continues petting his hair.

It’s nice, too nice.

Steve has to get up. He’s got things to do today and if he’s late, his dad will hear about it and berate him for hours.

Shit, even if he’s on time he’ll probably find some other reason to berate him for hours.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.

“Hm? Oh. Just don’t really wanna get up.”

“Then don’t. I don’t have anywhere to be until soundcheck after lunch.”

And now Steve has no choice but to explain his job and why he’s here, how his dad is relying on him to network and find potential mergers. How he hates putting on the Harrington face to please everyone.

It’s easy to admit it to Eddie, especially with Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him like he could actually protect him from anything his father tries to say to hurt him.

“You don’t like your job.”

It’s not a question.

“Does anyone really like their job?”

“I do.”

“Well, you’re a rockstar. Of course you do. But I can’t be a rockstar.”

“Maybe not. But what is your rockstar?”

Steve had never been asked that, not even by guidance counselors in high school. They all knew he’d work for his father. He got a business degree for his father. He owned more suits than sweatpants for his father.

“I…don’t know.”

“Maybe you could try figuring it out.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“No, it’s not. But you could still try.”

So Steve sent a message to his dad’s partner, let him know he was fighting food poisoning from the in-flight meal and couldn’t make it to the conference today. He watched as Eddie threw on some clothes, mussed up his hair instead of brushed it, and quickly shoved his things into his bag.

“I should get out of your hair, try to get the room thing fixed.”

Eddie looked at him, looked at the alarm clock by the bed, down at Steve’s bag.

“How many days are you packed for?”

“Uh, four, technically. Trip was supposed to be three, but I always have an extra in case there’s flight delays or-“

“Come with me.”

“To…soundcheck?”

“On tour.”

Steve was an idiot, his father made sure he knew it as often as possible. But he couldn’t just go on tour with a stranger.

Could he?

What was he really doing here?

He hated his job, hated his dad, hated not having a clear path in front of him.

And this certainly wasn’t a clear path; He barely knew this guy, and hadn’t even heard his band. But it was a trail, the start of a path that could lead him somewhere he’d actually like to be.

Maybe he could take this chance.

Robin would tell him to do it, if she weren’t in Antarctica studying penguins for three months, only able to call once a week to check in.

What would she say if she called him and he was backstage at a heavy metal concert?

She’d probably say he’s lost his damn mind, but she’d be glad he did.

“Well, I am a rockstar. I could afford to have you around.”

“I’m not sure I could really afford to when my dad fires me,” Steve sighed, reality hitting him a little too quickly.

“I’m not really willing to be, like, your kept boy or anything,” Steve felt himself flush.

“I’m not really willing to have a kept boy,” Eddie smirked, joining him on the bed again, legs crossed in front of him. “But I’d definitely be happy to have someone who can help our tour manager out. You’d be working, though the jobs kind of boring.”

“More boring than sitting in an office five days a week and meeting with old white dudes who haven’t done anything but work their lives away for 40+ years?”

“Nah, way better than that. Sometimes you’ll have to deal with Gareth’s moods, but I promise to make it worth your while.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Eddie very obviously checked him, eyes trailing over Steve’s bare chest. “I’m open to negotiating.”

“And if I want a kiss?”

“Then a kiss you’ll have.”

“And if I want you to fuck me?”

“Then you’ll have to sign some paperwork,” Eddie laughed. “But that can be arranged too.”

So Steve left with Eddie, four days of clothes in his bag, no idea what he’d even tell his dad or anyone else, and no clue exactly what his new job would entail.

All he knew was Eddie seemed to be made just for him, chaos and hyperactivity included, and Steve wasn’t gonna give that up now. Even if it made no sense, even if it was ridiculous to gain a new job and new rockstar boyfriend in less than 24 hours, even if his next call with Robin was a combination of her yelling about his impulsive behaviors and congratulations for finally doing something for him.

Even if he was more of a VIP groupie for the band than an employee of the tour manager.

Steve finally found something he wanted.

If he sent his dad’s calls to voicemail, that was because he was too busy walking his new path.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #drabble #modern au #rockstar eddie munson #meet cute #unrealistic timeline of falling in love #and I’m not sorry for it

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chrollohearttags · 1 month

Text

good girls finish last • e. jaeger

your best friend was always adamant that he’d have you and he follows through on it in a huge way.

word count: 2.3K

black fem!reader, heavy dom!eren (he’s yandere if you squint), PWOP, overstimulation, back licking, squirting, reader calls him daddy, calls reader princess, growling/marking, orgasm denial. he speaks German/Italian, many other themes I don’t feel like listing

in case you all were wondering what inspired this: enjoy! 🫶🏾

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“Mmmm!…please..”

“Shhh, keep your voice down, baby. I won’t say it again..”

the deep vibrato rang out in your ear in almost a growl like tone..his voice tantalizing and almost honey like as it deeper into your brain. He was trouble..that you had always known since the day you met him. Your best friend of several years, even when everyone else told you otherwise. However, that was of no consequence. Especially when you were certain that he was the only man for you. Someone who saw your flaws as perfections, who thought the world of you even when you seemed insignificant. It was more than what could be said of the man who had you before..hence why he was now there to pick up the pieces.

“..don’t talk, just breathe..that’s all you need to do right now. Just focus on my voice..” the command simultaneous with the sounds and sensation of his thick, warm fingertips fluidly moving in and out of your warmth. Your slick building up on the hilt of his knuckles as he flexed his wrist. His tattooed digits and arm were already decorated in the remnants of your previous orgasms and he was looking to add more to the collection. “I—I just..this isn’t right..we shouldn’t be doing this.” A statement only followed by that same maniacal laughter you had heard many times before and a soft clutch around your throat. “And why is that? Hmm..scared that he’s gonna walk in here? Good, let him see what a real man is supposed to do.” Even so, your chest couldn’t help but to heave with every delicate, calculated movement he made. Working your cunt over with the most intricate of strokes. He occasionally uses his free hand to squeeze your throat or grope your tits that were pulled from your tank top. That thong dangling at your ankles and your plaid skirt flipped up to expose your lower half..he was enjoying this! All of it far more than he should’ve but he couldn’t help himself, really. Eren had been in love with you since the two of you first became acquainted. Those beautiful lips, those thighs and pretty dark skin he found so perfect..the best part was? It was all his!…regardless of how many losers you allowed into your life. You were his lady, forever and always. And he’d make certain that everyone knew it. Removing that hand from your throat, he’d quickly replace it with a trail of gentle kisses. As well as the slight drudge of his teeth up the sensitive skin.

“Don’t you get it? We were always supposed to be together. Just me and you against the world, princess. That’s what you told me, right?” Your answer seemingly coming a moment too late for him, as he snatched your head around to meet his gaze. “Right?!” “Ah!—yes! Yes, daddy..” the name inciting more of a fire in him than before. Truth be told, he knew you liked it. You loved it, in fact. That much apparent by the subtle smirk on your face. “Look at you fucking smiling..admit it, mama. You never loved him. You were only pretending. You always were such a people pleaser..my good girl.” His voice dropped even lower as his fingers elevated to your g-spot once more. Pressing on the fleshy pad and making you writhe in his grasp. You were as good as stuck..you wouldn’t leave this spot. This bed where you and your ex had consummated your relationship several times. And not once did it ever bring you the thrill and rush that fucking Eren did. The way he spoke to you, held you close and made you feel as if he existed solely for you.

“But that’s why I’m here…you don’t have to appease anyone. You can be selfish with me, baby. Give in to what you really want…so tell me..what is that? Tell me what you want me to do…” all the while, his movements became sped up and you were clawing at his tattooed forearm; mere seconds from climaxing whilst he coaxed you through it. “C’mon, closed mouths don’t get fed, princess. Talk to me..” just as smooth as ever and devilish as well. He always had such a way with words and knew exactly how to articulate them to get his wishes. Maybe that’s why so many people despised the cocky brunette. Because he was the total package, head to toe. But an asshole to his core. Still, that didn’t mean shit to him..or you! Through your lens, he was picture perfect and nothing could change that. Working those digits in and out, you’d finally screech and yelp, unable to keep your voice lowered and in response, all he could do was laugh. Knowing that you were trying so hard to spare the feelings of someone you shouldn’t have. You’d quickly cup your hand over your mouth but to no avail.

“Aww, what’s the matter? Don’t want your ‘man’ to hear us? Hear me playing with this lil’ pussy? Afraid it might break his little heart? You’re so considerate..” sarcastically stroking the side of your face with a lilt in his tone. But there was simply no need for you to be so courteous. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. He’s with another bitch right now. Somewhere laid up with a girl who couldn’t even think of competing with you. So why hold back, baby? Why are you trying to fight what’s meant to be for his sake?”

in a moment of haste, Eren retracted his fingers and used them momentarily to pacify your cries. He’d work them in between your jaws and meanwhile, usher you onto all fours. Prompting you to arch your back. Just as quickly, he’d tug those sweatpants down and remove his shirt in the process. He could feel you teeming right on the edge of climatic bliss but he was selfish. He needed to reach that point with you…to feel every bit and part of you as you made it to that point. Once he freed his stiff cock from those boxers, he’d align himself with your slit and immediately begin slapping it against your folds. Leaning down, he’d lace your shoulder blades with those same markings on your neck; biting gently into your flesh like a predator claiming its sweet little prey. Grunting and moaning into your ear how gorgeous you were and how he couldn’t wait to beat your pussy up. You were so delicate, soft and pretty. But he couldn’t help but to defile you..to make you a product of his sick perversions. He’d dreamed of the nights that he could pound this little pussy into oblivion. Making you cream on his shaft until you left him an utter mess..going deep until he forced you to squirt all over him and then shortly after, breed you so that he was with you in more ways than one. Having vivid daydreams of your belly swollen with his kid..it was the ultimate sign of possession!

“Fuck me, Eren! I can’t take it…” “..now where’s those manners you love so much? Say please..” there was that slick mouth. You always loved it when you weren’t the one on the receiving end but seeing as you were about to combust, you were feeding into it. “Please, daddy. I need it so bad..need you to make me come, right now..”

grasping at the sheets beneath you, you’d feel a sharp sting when his palm collided with your asscheek before those same fingers laced your throat. Eren never did like being told what to do but for you?…he could possibly overlook it.

“Shhhh! pazienza, amore mio..” pushing a finger to your lips.

the switch in dialect sending a pang to your stomach. You were always so fond of the fact that he was trilingual, being the son of immigrants. He’d tested it out on you earlier in the night as his tongue drudged between your folds and lapped at your clit. He’d begin complimenting your flavor and scent in his native languages; letting the words ooze like honey.

“We’ll get there when I say so..” suddenly, you’d feel yourself become full as he impaled you on his cock. Shoving that girthy, long member into that swollen heat. It was no time before you acclimated, despite his massive size. It was almost as if you designed just for him. “Ahh…so fucking tight. Just like old times..when you’d sneak out of class or practice, just to come fuck me. Ooh..that pussy felt so good..” Referring to your high school days when you were just alike. Delinquents and deviants only caring about each other. Fast forward and you were trying to get your act together. In college, new job, and supposedly a new man. However, old habits die hard and he was a hell of a one to crack. “You used to be such a slut f’r me. Let’s see if you still have it in you..” mocking whilst he smacked your ass repeatedly, telling you to meet his thrusts. The collision of that plump backside driving him crazy, especially when you reached back voluntarily and spread yourself open; glancing back with a smirk on your face. “Mmm..like that?” “Fuuuck..yeah, there’s my nasty lil’ bitch. Here..open up.” In one fell swoop, Eren tugged your head back and your jaw would fall slack; opening your enough for him to fill it with spit which made you giggle in return.

“Mmm, thank you, daddy..” he couldn’t help but to twitch each time you uttered the moniker. It always did sound so much sexier when you said. “You’re so welcome, princess..thank you for being so patient. I know you wanna come so bad. I want you to..” as he persisted with his speech, his strokes became a bit more sped up. The sounds of clapping flesh growing louder as well as your moans.

“ ‘Rennn…oh my God..” “..that’s right, baby. Pray to me, worship this fucking dick like you used to.” Commanding that you take it. Tightening his grip on the back of your neck, he’d force (y/n) face down, flat on the mattress in a prone position. Now, he could go as fast as he pleased without you faltering. “I’m the only one that can make you feel this good. The fuck were you thinking give my pussy to these fuck ass little boys? Are you crazy?” Seemingly switching his demeanor midway. That side of him always did scare you. But he’d never even so much as entertain the thought of hurting his princess. The only pain he wanted to cause you was consensual and pleasure filled. The kind you’d beg for.

“Nnngh, I’m so sorry, daddy. I’m so fucking sorry..” your voice high pitched and wailing as he pounded you mercilessly. You couldn’t take another minute of this. Your bladder felt as if it were going up burst, your eyes rolling back and tears staining your cheek. But he was inconsolable, thinking about another man in this bed with you. Being inside of you without a clue of how to make you happy. That was his job and his alone.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…don’t cry. I’m not mad at you..I’m just so disappointed that you’d settle like this..” breaking into yet another chuckle whilst his strokes became sporadic. “Please!..I’m so close..” “I know, I know you are..” leaning down to mark your spine with kisses as he lifted you back up and to also rattle off in your ear. “..so let’s get you there, pretty girl..” just then, those strokes would reach maximum speed and you’d find yourself trying to brace but you were coming undone! You could barely keep a grasp on those sheets and he was drilling you like no one’s business. Tugging you back to his chest with that same grasp on your throat, Eren kept talking; coaching you through your orgasm. Telling you when you squeeze and hold your muscles. To not release until he gave you explicit permission. Meanwhile, he’d stroke your clit repeatedly until you were nearly convulsing, trying to hold back. You had always trusted him but this teasing was too much to bear. You had to let go right now! And luckily, he wouldn’t keep you waiting for much longer

“Come for me, princess! Come for me..squirt on my dick! Spritz auf meinen Schwanz..” repeating the phrase a couple times more with a heavy growl and with that accent peeking through, you’d fall apart right there in his grasp, releasing a puddle onto his cock and the linen. You were finished; completely spent and on the brink of collapse. But he was quick to hold you in place and steal one last peck from those pretty lips.

“I love you..I love you so fucking much..you hear me? Don’t you ever leave me again..” his voice faint through his seemingly overwhelming amounts of emotions. He was so happy that you were back where you belonged. In his arms, in his life. Maybe being a goody two shoes got you nowhere and you’d gotten your heart broken trying to do the right thing…

“I love you more, baby..I’m right here..”

and hell, maybe good girls did finish last but if this was what was waiting at the end of the line?

“I’ll never leave you again, Eren. I promise.”

you’d fall behind every time!

@dancingwithdeities @iadoreprettygirls @arminsbbymami

@shamelesshoefairy @chiquititaosita @greenieweeniesworld @ichigosluvrr @thickbihhwitdagapp

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hyuckmov · 8 months

Text

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 1 of 3

wc: 22k (!!!!!!!) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: loss of virginity, very soft sex (hand-holding during sex), lots of kissing, protected sex, haechan fucks...a lot, fingering, oral (f receiving), very faint corruption kink, JEALOUSY, possessiveness (marking, signing on your body), handjob, car sex, cumplay, spit, exhibitionism (!), slight dumbification, slight degradation, titty-sucking etc, sweet aftercare a/n: i worked a lot on this and i really hope u like it.... i really hope it's hot... i hope u like rockstar haechan...please let me know what u think... (fic playlists) | browse the fic tag :)

he's been staring at you all night.

the bass thrums insistent in your chest, overriding your heartbeat, as you cling onto the barrier between the stage and the crowd. lights flash before your eyes, almost blinding you with how fast they blinked, and you can barely make out the faces of the boys onstage as they play their last song of the night. the air is damp, excitement riding high over the crowd in waves of endless screams that never seem to stop.

and the boy on the far right, fingers moving deftly over the strings of his electric guitar, hasn't taken his eyes off you for the last five minutes.

a sharp smile tugs at his lips, smokey makeup making his gaze ever more piercing as he looks down at you through his overgrown bangs, hairs at the nape of his neck unruly and wild. the lights throw the features of his face into high contrast, the tattoos curling on his neck and hip screaming for attention, as do the glint of jewelry scattered everywhere on his body. you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze, something lewd about the way he runs his tongue over his lips, eyes practically undressing you. he never seemed to stop moving his body as he played, bouncing on his toes or letting his body lean away from the sound, the music fuelling and becoming one with his movements as if he were a dancer.

as the music crashes and swells towards the end of his solo, his eyes slide over to yours with a practiced precision, as if he had memorized your position in the crowd. swaying his hips from side to side, his eyelids droop just slightly into a half-lidded stare, as he ruts his hips playfully against his guitar.

the screams of the other fans are deafening, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of your heartbeat in your own ears.

haechan finally looks away, a small smile on his face as he signals to his bandmates towards the song's ending. you feel almost empty as the weight of his attention lifts off of you, pressing yourself up against the railing on tip-toe to try and catch his eye again before sinking down and feeling like an idiot.

he was just doing fanservice for an audience member, nothing more. you try not to find his actions endearing as he slings his arm around the lead singer, mark, his surprisingly boyish laugh making your heart flutter in your chest as he waves towards his fans one more time.

people are leaving the venue, the sounds of their excitement getting further and further away, but you stand there, reeling, clutching onto the metal barrier, sure that if you took your hands off it you would fall. finally, glancing up at the stage one last time, you're just about to leave to find your friend, the only reason you were even here, when –

"leaving so soon?"

the boy is sitting on the stage right in front of you, leaning forward so you can see his face clearly. up close, he's even prettier than before, delicate almost doll-like legs wrapped under ripped skinny jeans, leading up to thick and toned thighs, his slender waist shadowed under his large leather jacket ridden with buckles and straps. without the bright stage lights, you can see the moles on his skin, tracing a dangerous path under the collar of his shirt.

at your lack of response, he raises his eyebrows. "i asked if you were leaving, princess."

"i have to find my friend," the words come out rushed. "um…jaemin? your band hired him tonight as the photographer."

"i remember," he nods. "so…you're not a fan?"

"no." he nods, silence filling the space between the both of you. you can see him start to formulate a goodbye, his heart-shaped lips parting, but you don't want the conversation to end, you don't want him to stop looking at you. "- but…i really enjoyed your show."

he looks a little surprised, and a genuine smile spreads sweetly across his face. "why?" he challenges.

"what?"

"what did you like about our show?" his eyes glint, and you know he's teasing you.

"the songs were good," you mumble.

"yeah?" he licks his lips, a slight hint of nervousness showing on his face as he clears his throat. "who was your favorite member?"

"huh?"

"your favorite band member," he repeats, tilting his head to the side. "jeno, he's our drummer, mark's the lead singer, jisung plays bass and i…" he waves his hand absentmindedly towards his guitar, on the stand, still onstage behind him. "i'm haechan," he adds.

if you wanted to get to know him, it wouldn't hurt to show a little of exactly how much you liked him, would it? "you were my favorite," you admit. "you…you have really good stage presence," you blurt out.

"stage presence?"

"yeah. when i'm in the crowd…i can't really pay attention to anything else. and you…" you swallow, heat burning up your cheeks, but the way his eyes were looking at you with curiosity making you finish your thought. "you make the audience feel like they want to please you." the unspoken truth, that you, as part of the audience, wanted to please him, hangs in the air.

your embarrassment, at saying something so suggestive and raw, is quickly washed away by the smile tugging at the corner of his lip, a smirk that quickly spreads across his face into a grin. you're so mesmerized by it, that you're taken aback by the way he suddenly shifts, hopping down the stage lightly and standing in front of you.

"princess," he says, softly, placing his hands on the railing next to yours so the sides of your fingers barely brush. "do you want to come to a party?"

you resist the urge to immediately say yes. "what party?"

"there's one after every show. jaemin will have been invited, he can take you." the venue has emptied out, even his bandmates have left the stage. and yet, his voice is pitched low as he leans in, body warmth radiating off of him, and you are so close, you can see the smudged eyeliner on his lower lash line, can make out the grey of his colored contact lenses. "you can find me there."

"but…" you feel lost. "why can't you just take me?"

"if we show up together, it'll seem a little like we're dating, no?" his voice is quiet, but firm.

hurt and confusion blossoms in your chest. was it really that serious? keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, you ask, "would that be so bad? for…for us to date?”

but you know it's the wrong thing to say.

he exhales slowly, a brief look of pain flitting over his features. he hated doing this, hated reaching the point in conversations where rules and boundaries had to be discussed. nights where he found his girls at the party were the easiest, letting body language and long glances do the talking, as few strings attached as possible.

but today he couldn't stop looking at you, in the front row, couldn't help sliding his eyes over and checking to see if you were watching him, a pleased thrum burning in his chest every time his gaze found yours. it seemed logical, to spend his time with you tonight. but if he'd known you'd felt like this, he never would have waited onstage.

"what's your name, princess?"

"y/n."

"y/n, i'm not making you my girlfriend," he states, bluntly. "i can't, and i don't want to. you can meet me at the party later, but we'll just fuck – nothing else."

his words make you feel small, his tone harsh compared to his previous meandering way of speaking. even then, the thought of letting him walk away, to never see him again, to end this story on this moment, made you feel worse than anything.

at the look on your face, he softens slightly.

"i'm sorry if you thought this was going to be more," he says, quietly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"i do," you correct him. frustrated, he sighs, and you rush to clarify. "i'll meet you at the party. just…nothing else." your end off hesitantly, unwilling to echo his crude words.

"are you sure?" you think you see his gaze darken, the tension suddenly heightening as he places one of his large hands over your own. his guitar-calloused fingertips are rough as they slide against the back of your hand, drawing shapes that burn into your skin like tattoos. you nod, but he shakes his head — slowly, sweetly patient. "i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, and the words go straight to your gut.

"i'm sure." your voice comes out as a whisper, but he doesn't seem to mind. he leans in, and just when you think your lips are going to meet, your mouth parting expectantly, he tilts his head and kisses you softly on your cheek.

"make sure no one sees you, princess," he murmurs, low in your ear, before straightening up. "don't make me wait too long, hm?"

—

"did anyone follow you up here?"

haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word.

"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so."

he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out.

"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?"

feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop.

he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.

slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. it's only because your body is pressed up against his, his hands are roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips.

"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.

you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit.

his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?"

you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-"

"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his touch.

"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you.

he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes.

"y/n…i can't be your first time."

"but i want –"

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold, and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show."

you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his.

"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly.

"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle.

"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers moving across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen. he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts his phone down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.

"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?"

and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down.

—

the feeling of embarrassment curdles in your stomach, and leaves a sour taste in your mouth every time you look in the mirror. it's what leads you to skip the next show, making an excuse to jaemin about 'having other plans'. and then the other, and then the other. and then it's been a week, and your friend has finally managed to drag you to one of their after-parties, pushing you through the door with a little too much enthusiasm. he knows something is bothering you, and he wants nothing more than to help take your mind off of it — but he has no idea that the something is currently leaning against the archway leading off into the living room, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, and brushing his hands around some girl's waist in a way that made you feel sick.

jaemin introduces you to mark, out on the balcony. mark is sweet, and friendly, a regular boy-next-door who happens to have face gems twinkling next to his eyes and leather pants tight around his thighs. he asks you about college, and work. he talks about the songs he's writing on his guitar. he catches your drink when you almost drop it over the railing, an easy smile on his face when his fingers brush yours passing it back to you, and a shy grin when he reaches out to lace his fingers with yours properly.

"i'm really busy, but i'd love to talk to you more," he says, sincerely, as he takes your phone from your hands to key in his number. he texts himself so his contact is at the top of your messages, making you promise to text him when you get back. he looks at you meaningfully, squeezing your hand before dropping it to go back to his party.

there's a moment, where you think to follow.

but then all of it – every touch, every glance, every speck of light you counted reflected in marks' wide eyes, — all of it is wiped clean the moment you hear a familiar low voice.

"trying to get with my friends now, princess?"

when the light illuminates his silhouette, hurt registers before anything else.

hickeys bloom across the side of haechan's neck, trailing down to his chest. only a simple mesh top lies underneath his leather jacket, and you can see the shadows of a few more bruises on his torso when his arm shifts, tugging the jacket open just slightly. his hair is a mess, tugged this way and that by desperate hands, and you think there may be a smear of bright pink lipstick at the corner of his lips. you can smell the reek of flowery perfume, cloyingly sweet, all over his clothes, as he leans back against the railing, eyes turned towards the party happening behind the sliding glass doors.

"i thought you said i was your favorite band member," he murmurs, a mock expression of sadness on his face. "mark's nothing like me."

"why do you care?" you will yourself to sound more confident, letting the hurt dissolve into defiance.

"i don't." the pout has melted off his face, a burning intensity now in the way he stares at you, making you shift uncomfortably. a moment passes, where he studies your face, eyes flicking across your features almost methodically. "so am i?"

"what?"

"am i still your favorite?" his voice is bitter, as if he knows the answer before asking and he doesn't like it.

"are you seriously asking me that?"

"princess –"

he's interrupted by a chime from your phone. the both of you glance down at it at the same time, the text and the sender unmistakeable on your otherwise empty lockscreen.

mark <3 : thanks for talking to me today :) let me know when you get home safe!

there's a pause.

"mark has a girlfriend," haechan blurts out, his voice coarse.

"what?" you look up at him, trying to figure out if this was a joke, but his face is impassive.

"he cheats on her all the time with girls from his parties. it's his thing." haechan's still looking at your screen even though your phone has turned off, resolutely not meeting your eyes.

it takes you a moment to gather yourself, every one of mark‘s actions and words suddenly flashing before you like a flipbook, sweet memories crumpling into dust. "are you lying?" you ask, shakily.

"why would i?" he finishes his beer, veins shifting on the back of his hand as he crushes the empty can, the crunch of metal dissonant against the warm summer night. his next words are just as rough. "whether or not you get with mark means nothing to me. i don't care. i don't even know you."

his words ring true, as he pushes off from the railing, leaving you alone on the balcony without another word. the abrupt end to the conversation has you turning, eyes following him as he steps back into the party, looking away a little too late as you see him gesture someone over with a flick of his fingers, her long hair covering both their faces when their lips meet.

jaemin finds you crying on the balcony, but he can't figure out the reason. you delete mark's contact off your phone the moment you get home, and jaemin promises you he's never taking you to any other show or party with the band ever again.

—

"there should be an empty room somewhere." the man lets go of your hand, at the foot of the stairs. "can you wait for me inside one? i'll find you in a minute."

it's only when you're halfway upstairs, when you realise that you're really about to give yourself to a stranger for your first time.

he has a bright smile, sweet dimples showing each time his lips turn upwards, each time he calls you baby. he's not much older than you, but there's an easy authority in the way he takes your cup from your hands and tells you to stop drinking, getting you glasses of water instead. his body dwarfs yours in size, and when you put your hand on his thigh, you see something shift in his expression that tells you he may not be as gentle as he seems.

and when you tell him he'll be your first time, his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes dragging up and down your body with a newfound hunger.

you've never really cared about who you lost your virginity to, not considering it a big occassion or anything to make a fuss over. your mind flits back to two weeks ago, when some boy had cared way more about it than you did.

"you need to be with someone who will take care of you."

anger flares in your chest at the thought of it, as you climb up the stairs two steps at a time, and it's just when you're just reaching the first landing, when you suddenly coming to a crashing halt because —

the sound of microphone feedback makes you put your hands over your ears, instinctively, the shrill sound piercing the air.

a loud bass suddenly starts up, vibrating under your feet. did they hire a live band? the song that booms from downstairs is familiar, and with a jolt, you realise that you know it a little too well.

that honey-sweet voice, the bitter bite to his words soothed over by the sweetest of tones – drifts up from the speaker, a haunting melody that echoes up the empty staircase, punctuated by a screaming crowd.

as if to further prove it was him, he lets out a laugh at the end of his line, the tone of it dark and sarcastic, the crowd going wild at the sound of it.

was it a studio recording? it must be, because there was no way this band was downstairs, performing live at this random birthday party, there was no chance…

… except now mark is speaking into the microphone, greeting the audience, asking for the birthday girl. unease stirs in your stomach as you trace your steps back down, a dread that fills you up as the makeshift stage comes back into view, where the DJ had been just a moment ago.

to where haechan stood, guitar on its stand, eyes already trained on yours, an expression of white hot anger on his face.

—

"him? really?"

you can still feel his touch on your arm, from how he dragged you into the bedroom.

you're frozen on the steps.

haechan signals to mark, ignoring the questioning looks from the members and protests from the boy as he steps off the platform, making a beeline for the stairs. his brows are furrowed, his teeth gritted as he glares at you.

"you wanna go upstairs that bad?" he murmurs. "lead the fucking way, princess."

he starts towards you, and you take a step back, body colliding with the door. the sound seems to ground him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, finally turning away to sit on the bed, the space allowing you to relax just slightly.

"i thought," he starts, patiently, swallowing hard. "i thought i told you to find someone to take care of you, for your first time."

the reminder of his words feels like a stab in your chest. "i thought you didn't care," you shoot back.

he ignores you. "did you come here with your friends? where's jaemin?"

what the fuck was wrong with him? "who are you to tell me what to do?"

his lips part, but no words come out. sighing, he rubs his face with his hands, still trying to calm down. "y/n," he starts again, voice pained. "i don't want to see you get hurt."

"how do you know he would've hurt me?"

his eyes meet yours. "did you tell him?" he asks, quietly.

"tell him i was a virgin? yes." anger seeps into your tone, as you glare at him. "he reacted very differently from you."

"y/n that's not a good thing!" he stands up, his voice raised. "are you that desperate to get fucked?"

you step back in alarm, tears forming in your eyes. fear, of the situation you almost put yourself in, of the boy in front of you, makes your throat close up, and you can't help the way your body tenses. the cruelness of his words settles in a little too late, an acidic burn in your chest.

haechan feels the tips of his fingers go numb as you start to cry, guilt flooding his mind in a way he rarely felt. his face crumples, and he does't know what to do when you curl in on yourself, every sound you make feeling like a punch to his ribs.

"i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching for you tentatively. when you don't pull away, his arms circle around you, and he makes sure to leave enough space for you to breathe or break free if you wanted to. "i'm sorry," he repeats again, as you sink into his chest, needing his warmth as much as you hated his presence.

"take it back," you mumble. "take it back right now."

"i take it back," he says, immediately. "i didn't mean any of it. i'm sorry."

"you don't get to reject me," you start, voice shaky, "and control who i choose to be with."

he sucks in a breath, gripping onto you a little tighter. "y/n –"

"it's…it's fucked up," you hiccup, fisting at the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in your fists in frustration.

"i know," he breathes. "i know."

his hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you hate how it really does manage to comfort you, your breaths steadying as he pats your back clumsily. when you think you've calmed down enough, you place your hands on his chest, and he backs away instinctively, looking down at his feet. never meeting your eyes.

"i'm tired, haechan," you whisper. "i don't want to play whatever game you're playing." he doesn't respond, so you continue. "you don't want to fuck me, but you don't want anyone else to."

"i do." his response is so quiet, you barely catch it.

"you want other people to fuck me?"

"no, i don't." he lifts his head, his expression conflicted. "i…i want to be your first time."

"what?"

when he doesn't respond, you sigh, agitated. "haechan, i already told you i don't want to play your games anymore –"

"not a game," he cuts you off, softly. "i'll take care of you." the gentleness of his voice makes you feel small. it's almost overwhelming, the way he looks into your eyes, without his usual apathy and bitterness.

"i thought you said you don't do that?" it takes you all your willpower to not give in.

"i don't," he breathes. "but with you i will." he's starting to think he has no choice – that there's no one else in the world who's going to take care of you the way he knows you need. he doesn't know when he decided to give in, in between watching you place your hand on that man's thigh, and you standing in front of him now. all he knows is that he either had to do this, or make you disappear from his life entirely.

the words hang in the air. even now, feeling so torn and hurt and tired, your body can't help how much you want him, hyper-attuned to the little details in his appearance: the messy black nail polish scrawled on his nails, smoky eye make-up that makes his gaze all the more intense and devouring. there's a heady smell hanging onto his skin and clothes, rich and indulgent vanilla and musk, filling up your senses with a giddy desire. long legs in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, his thighs stretching out the fabric in a way that almost looked like it hurt.

"okay," you mumble. his lips part, but you answer him before he has a chance to ask. "please take care of me." your voice is small, yet each word seems to catch fire, incinerating the air between you.

his tongue darts out, wetting his lip. "yeah?"

you nod. finally giving in to the pull of your body, you take a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes.

"i'm sorry…about all of it." he murmurs. "thank you for trusting me, still."

you can't think of anything to say, so you nod again. it feels like your heart is in your throat.

he swallows. "do you…you shouldn't…" his eyes dart around the room. "we shouldn't do it here. in…in some strangers bedroom." gently, he touches your arm, looking at you hesitantly. "would you feel comfortable if we did it in your apartment? or i could bring you to my shared apartment with the band…they wouldn't be back yet. but we might have to be quick…"

your head feels like it's spinning.

at your lack of response, he rambles on, eyes focused on yours, trying to discern your thoughts. "w-what do you think? or…if you really want to get comfortable i don't mind booking a hotel, it's a little last minute but-" he bites his lip. "do you want to meet somewhere else or i could take you in my car? i haven't drank much, i swear, but if you don't trust me-"

"stop," you blurt out.

he freezes, the hand grazing your arm dropping to his side, fingers playing with the rips in his jeans.

"i'm sorry," he says, softly.

"no, i mean…stop asking me questions." you exhale. "i trust you," you repeat, softly. every word of it was true — despite everything, you were still the same person sitting on his lap up on the rooftop. "just…take care of me, however you want."

he swallows. "you sound…" exhaling, he shakes his head to clear it. "okay. is your apartment empty?"

"yes," you whisper. "jaemin's away for tonight."

"i'll drive," he murmurs. and now he takes a step closer to you, until he's all you can see, the room melting away. "but before that…can i kiss you first, princess?" you nod, transfixed by him, as he leans in.

haechan kisses soft.

his lips are plush, and soft, taking your bottom lip between his own sweetly. he tilts his head slowly as if he's afraid he'll overwhelm you by moving too fast, his lips parting as he invites you to do the same, his hands going to the back of your head to guide you. a soft sigh escapes the back of his throat when your lips part and he can taste you, and you can taste him — vanilla like how he smells, with the slight bite of alcohol. your hand comes up to touch his round cheeks, surprisingly soft too, and he smiles into this kiss.

he's the one to break apart from you, with a patience that feels rehearsed. he's taking care of you, as he leans in so your noses brush, your breaths mingling.

"haechan…" he hums, encouragingly. "i…you know this isn't…my first kiss, right?"

a pause. "i know," he murmurs.

"so… so you don't have to be gentle." you squirm slightly as his touch grows heavier, eyes darkening at the implications behind your words.

he backs away from you, hands pulling you with him as he sits down on the bed. his eyes flick down to his lap as he lowers his gaze, before dragging them painstakingly up to yours again.

"sit, princess."

this time, when he feels you tremble against him, your knees caging in his hips as you straddle him, all he does is lean in and kiss you — just as sweet as he did the first time.

"i'm gentle with you because i want to be," another kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip. "not because i have to." his fingers guide your chin upwards, baring your neck to him as he leans in and leaves a kiss on a spot under your jaw. and then a longer, more lingering kiss. and now he's making his way down your neck, each press of his lips on your skin longer and rougher than the last, and now you're sure he's sucking marks onto your neck, especially when you feel a slight sting of teeth.

you're shifting against him restlessly, body hardly your own as you fall under his touch. you don't know how long you spend there, in his lap, as he works on your neck, taking breaks to kiss you on the lips, his sighs echoing into the cavern of your mouth as it falls open with need. it's when he sucks lightly on your tongue, almost boyish in the way he backs away with a small smile, when a soft sound escapes your lips.

"yeah?" he murmurs, leaning in again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against yours gently. "you like that?"

you nod.

"you sound so pretty," he breathes, as he slots his lips with yours again, humming against yours as you let out another small whimper.

"haechan-" you mumble, and he draws away, looking at you expectantly. "i think i'm ready."

"really?" his hands on your waist give you a light squeeze. "you want me to take you home now?"

you're still giddy from the heat radiating off his skin, your lips craving his contact again now he's stopped kissing you. you nod, and he smiles, gently guiding you off his lap as he unlocks the door.

he's gentle the whole way down – as he leads you away from the main staircase so you wouldn't be seen, the crowd still distracted by the band. he cradles you carefully against his side all the way out of the back gates and into his car, and when your breath catches as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt for you, he's gentle even as he presses into you for a spur of the moment kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with more fervor.

it's not a song that plays in the car as he drives and you try to remember the way to your apartment, but rather it's a low and sultry beat — bluesy harmonies stretched out over pulses. part of you wonders if he played it on purpose, because imagining his voice set against it already had you melting against the leather seats.

it would all be rather sweet – how gentle he's being, the soft way he smiles at you in the dim lights of your lift lobby, the way he holds your hand and lets you lean against him as you head higher and higher, the space around you feeling like a vacuum of trapped adrenaline and lust.

but there was also no denying the fact that he jolted at the slightest sound, his grip on you tight and slack all at once, the tenderness in his eyes here one second and gone the next. a hurt you could almost taste on your tongue, that you were holding onto something so fragile, and that to him it seemed the worst thing that could happen would be if he were found with you.

—

but all of it changes, when you're alone in your room. the weight of his attention, that you'd felt even as one person amidst a screaming crowd, seems to intensify tenfold as he lets his jacket slide to the floor, eyes on you.

he reads the apprehension in your body, the way you hover near your bed, waiting for him to guide you.

"let me know if it's too much, okay?" he murmurs, as he pulls you in for a hug first, feeling you warm against him as you cling on to his embrace. "you can tell me to stop whenever, and i will." his hands rub circles up your waist, teasing on the silver of skin between your top and your skirt.

you nod, but he shakes his head – a thumb brushing across your cheek.

"use your words," he murmurs. "so i know you mean it."

"okay," you breathe, now guiding him to the bed yourself, curiosity getting the better of you. you had almost forgotten, in the midst of everything, why exactly you went to the party, and the familiar need sparks back to life in you.

haechan sits down against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, the movement feeling even more natural now. he can see that you're nervous and eager at the same time, hands fumbling with the soft material of his shirt, unsure what to do as you shift around on top of him.

"can i kiss you?" in the soft lamp light of the room, the sharp-cut edges of his face seem to blur, large doe-eyes looking up at you kindly. it makes you want to lean in, so you do — slotting your lips with his boldly, kissing him the way you wanted from him. it surprises him, the way you press your lips against him harshly, the gentle graze of your teeth against his plush lip.

he lets out a small laugh, and kisses you back just as fiercely, the atmosphere in the room melting as temperature skyrockets, until it's almost unbearable to be separated from you by layers of fabric.

"may i-" he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, and when your voice chokes out an affirmative, he's quick to yank it over his head, movements rough, exposing beautiful skin, his body warm and solid under your palms as you lean into him.

your cheeks warm, and he notices – a small smile on his face as his hands cup your cheeks, and he gives you a sweet kiss, abruptly different from the others. suddenly, it's almost too tender, the way he looks up at you with endearment in his eyes, kissing you chastely, and you sink into it a little guiltily, enjoying the innocence of it.

when you feel your heart reach its boiling point, your own hands go to the hem of your shirt, and you pull it over your head. you don't mean to slow down your movements, not meaning to tease or entice, but the way his eyes darken looking at your body made you wish you did it on purpose.

"pretty," he praises, head dipping to press a kiss between your collarbones. and another one, lower done, almost reaching your cleavage. the bra you had chosen mindlessly that morning was a thin bralette, and it did little to hide how aroused you were, your nipples poking stiff peaks through the fabric.

but still, he doesn't make any move to remove it, peppering kisses on your bare chest, over the slope of your breasts, almost slobbering at your skin, lips dewy and wet. his arms are firm around you, meeting each one of your movements and steadying you, helping you rock your hips into him as desire surges in your body.

"haechan, –" his name had never sounded so breathless falling from your lips.

"yes, baby?"

the term of endearment makes you feel smaller in his lap, the only thing making you feel better was the way he was just as heated as you, his breaths coming hard and fast. he wanted everything to be perfect, he never wanted to rush you into anything you weren't comfortable with, his hands staying firm on your lower back.

you tug at the bralette covering your chest impatiently, the fabric never feeling more uncomfortable on your skin.

"you want me to take it off?" he asks, head nuzzling into your neck as his fingers wander up your back. you feel it loosen around you, his finger expertly fiddling the clasp open, dragging it down and accidentally brushing against your hard nipples, making you hiss.

"i'll make you feel good," he promises, softly, lowering his head, kissing down the slope of your breasts. he makes eye contact with you, searching your eyes for any form of discomfort.

"be gentle," you murmur, nodding for him to continue. "they feel sensitive."

"of course," he mumbles, before starting to lightly kitten-lick at your nipple, the feeling all at once new and arousing, making you pulse against him in his lap. he circles his tongue around your areola, being as gentle as possible, opting not to flick at your nipples but rather suck one into his mouth, heart-shaped full lips sinful against your chest. the heat between your legs is overwhelming, as he switches to your other side, his hand coming up to knead your breast, warm palms moving over skin and making you giddy.

"please," you whimper, as he laps at you. "please, i need you, please –"

"you have me," he murmurs, one of his hands reaching out for yours blindly, scrabbling against the back of your hand from where it's pressed against his chest, flipping it over and interlocking your fingers. "i'll take care of you. lie down for me?"

he moves you off his lap, guiding you onto your back, propping up pillows you can rest against. the familiar feeling of your bed is only faintly there, your senses filled with the sweet heady smell of haechan, from the perfume and lotion clinging onto his skin, as you watch him remove the numerous rings on his fingers, placing them carefully on your bedside table.

haechan kisses his way down your body, suckling on your skin, leaving longer, lingering bruises on your hips, finally reaching your thighs as he lowers himself down. he guides your hips up with a heavy hand, sliding a cushion carefully under as he situates himself between your legs. you're so sensitive, that the feeling of his long hair against your skin has your thighs sliding together, squeezing around his head accidentally.

"you okay?" he murmurs, as he kisses your thighs again, patiently easing your thighs open.

you suddenly feel shy, knowing he was about to see you so intimately. even when you had agreed to let him take care of you, even as you trusted him completely, you had never imagined seeing him in between your spread legs like this, somewhere you hadn't even explored much yourself. would he be disappointed or disgusted? what if he didn't like what he saw or felt?

"baby…." he rubs a hand carefully on your thigh, tips of his fingers slipping just under the hem of your skirt. "is this okay? do you want to stop?"

"i don't want to stop," you admit, and you find that its true.

haechan looks at you, studying your face. after a moment, he crawls back up your body, brushing the hair out of your eyes before he brushes his lips against yours softly, as if asking for permission. you grant it, lips parting as his warm mouth meets yours, a welcome taste in your mouth that's become familiar. you kiss for a while, his hand finding yours in the mess of sheets and intertwining your fingers, until you feel confident enough to slip your other hand to the zipper of your skirt.

you tug it off your legs, haechan breaking away from the kiss to help you, moving down your body.

"i'll take care of you," he whispers, his hand never letting go of yours. "these are so pretty, baby," he whispers, a finger tracing over the lacy pattern on the front of your panties. you've never been more aware of your own arousal seeping out of you, as he places a kiss low on your hip, and then another just on the waistband of your panties, and suddenly, you want nothing more than for them to come off.

your fingers tug at them impatiently, and he takes hold of your hand, kissing your fingertips lightly. "let me," he murmurs, and you hear something low and raw in his voice, something that maybe wasn't there before. sitting up slightly, he pulls your panties down your legs, assuming his position as quickly as he'd left it once the fabric was out of the way, rearranging your legs so they're spread open for him.

the tension in the room fills your lungs up like smoke. you barely mumble his name, beg him to do something, before you feel a soft touch against your clit, making your hips jolt and you let out a sharp exhale.

"let me hear you," he encourages, gently, as he starts to rub circles into your sensitive nub, dipping down to your entrance and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. your hips keep shifting around, so he pulls his arm around to press down into you, keeping you still for him as he slowly pleasures you.

"t-this feels…" you start, lost in your own head. you've touched yourself before, but the sensitivity seemed to be heightened to an exaggerated amount once it was someone else touching you. he looks up at you, face still wickedly beautiful, the gentlest look in his eyes laced with something like desperation.

"can't believe i got so lucky," he murmurs, suckling a kiss close to your heat, high on the soft skin of your thigh. your legs clamp around his head, and it makes him groan, breath heavy against your cunt. "you're pretty everywhere, baby. can't believe i'm the only one."

the words flood your veins with a dark thrill, the idea of being his, of him taking all your firsts. "hypocrite," you mumble, cutting yourself off with a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit.

"maybe a little," he admits, shyly, as he dips his head back down and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, his fingers sliding down to your entrance instead.

you cry out at the foreign feeling, the wet muscle of his tongue stroking your clit expertly while his slender finger slips past your entrance. his name, strung along by curses, echoes from your mouth as he teases his finger in and out of your entrance, tongue lying flat and wide as he laps at your clit in a way that made you feel like you were already close.

stiffening his tongue, his flicks your clit with the tip, humming into you just as he curls his finger against your walls in a come-hither motion. he knows when you cum — back arching as you seemed to chase for stimulation above you, your walls sucking tightly around his finger and kneading it eagerly, making him groan as he imagines the feeling of you tight around his cock. he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, his nose bumping your clit and eliciting another drawn out whimper, tongue teasing your entrance.

when your hands push at his head, he backs away easily, once again making his way up your body to check on you, the warmth of his bare chest against yours making you feel safe.

"good?" he kisses you, tongue moving against yours, inviting you to take a taste. "did you like that, sweetheart?"

you nod, gasping. "haechan…"

"you did perfect for me, baby." his hands run up and down your sides as he kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your body wraps yourself around him, arms pulling his weight down into you.

"i still need you," you murmur. the pleasure from before had only satiated you for a little bit, and the feeling of his hard length poking at your thigh was making your head spin with a whole different level of desire, as you grapple for his belt. "please, i've been good-"

"you're perfect." he comforts you with a kiss.

he guides your hand away from him gently, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants slide onto the bed as you lie back down on your pillows. tugging his underwear down, you swallow as he squeezes his thick length, the pink tip leaking clear liquid. he watches you watch him spread it on his length, pumping himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure as he moans, a sweet tenor sound that rings lewdly in the air. you watch, mesmerized, as he thrusts his hips forward a few times, stroking himself with a slight twist of his wrist before letting go abruptly, letting his cock slap up against his lower stomach.

fishing around in the pocket of his discarded jeans, he takes out a condom wrapper, opening it quickly and rolling it onto his cock. you're sure you're making a mess of the sheets, you can feel your arousal and his saliva on your thighs, can feel another gush of wetness seep out of you as he lowers himself over your body and slides his cock against your folds.

he grinds himself on you, hoping to get you wetter so it may be less painful when he enters you. his fingers find your clit again, this time he rubs it urgently, with just the correct amount of pressure to have you shaking and lifting your hips into him.

"stop me anytime," he reminds you, as he lines himself up to your fluttering entrance. "you have to relax for me, baby." he pitches his voice lower now, and you can't tell if he's comforting you or if he's slowly being pulled under by lust too. he makes soft shushing noises, nipping at your lips with gentle kisses as you whimper, feeling the bulbous tip of his cock slowly stretch you open, his fingers resuming his movements. the head of his cock still feels shallow inside you, when it suddenly brushes against a sensitive spot, and his fingers on your clit glide just right, making you cum, hard. he feels you clamp down tightly around his tip, and he hisses, eyes squeezed shut. his mind wiped clean for just a second as pleasure thrums through his entire body, an aching pain that makes his mouth hang open.

"'m sorry," you whimper, tears prickling to your eyes as you interpret his expression as annoyance. "i'm so sorry, it just felt so good —"

"baby…" he looks at you, his face morphing into panic when he sees the tears in your eyes. "don't apologise, please, you have nothing to be sorry for."

you still look unconvinced, so he reaches for one of your hands, holding it in his and kissing your fingertips. "you are so pretty when you cum," the filthy words sound sacred the way he says them. "and you felt so fucking good around my cock," he murmurs, voice sinking low again.

you begin to relax again, sniffling slightly as you adjust your legs around his waist, feeling him slide a little deeper into you. he coaxes you into taking more of him, kissing you sweetly as he slips in further and further, until finally the both of you are groaning, his body shuddering slightly against yours as he feels your warm gummy walls tight around him.

"so tight," he groans, cursing again under his breath as he circles his hips, drawing a moan from you as your thighs tense. "how are you so tight?," he panted, tone still teasing despite him trying desperately not to buck his hips into you. "has no one ever fucked you before or something?"

you don't have it within you to tease back.

"only you, haechan." the words are reverent, hushed. it strips him of any of his cockiness, his teasing, his boldness — his features softening at the way you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact even as the ache between your legs drove you insane, not wanting to waste a single moment of this, in case it never happened again.

"haechan…" your nails rake against his back, drawing him out of his daze. "please fuck me."

"fuck," he breathes, as he slowly starts to move in you, obsessed with the way the words sound in your voice. his thick length drags against your walls, heavy inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal seeping into the room. you feel full and stretched out, sated by having him so close to you, it feels like you can feel him deep in your gut the way he's thrusting into you, especially when he hikes your legs higher on his waist, drawing a long moan from you as he manages to stimulate a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

he changes his pace, now barely pulling himself out of you as he nudges the head of his cock against your sweet spot. licking a long stripe from your neck up to your ear, one hand tangles itself with yours, while the other ghosts over your sensitive nipples.

"i'm cumming," the words come out rushed as you barely hold onto your senses, cumming harshly for the third time, your body thrown into pleasure as your muscles tense. he succumbs to the feeling of your walls kneading his length and squeezing tight around him, eyes going unfocused and hazy as his lips part, a moan drawn out from his lungs without conscious thought. he's aware of the way your muscles tense as he fucks both of you through your highs, relishing in the sting of your fingernails on his back as he slows down his movements. he draws out both your highs by leaning in and sucking on the mark he'd left behind earlier that evening, letting his moan buzz and fizzle on your skin.

you feel dazed and tired, arms never letting go of him, legs unwilling to unwrap from his waist as you cling to him. he rolls you both onto your sides, caressing your body sweetly and stroking your hair, mumbling questions and concerns that you can't register, nodding to everything in a blur. the weight of him feels good, his body warm and solid against your back, and once again that feeling of safety, that feeling of complete trust, washes over you. it makes you feel whole even as he pulls out of you with a wince, discarding the condom in the trash by your bedside.

you cling to him, and he knows you need it — so he doesn't let you go, heavy hands patting your back clumsily, slightly rough and out of rhythm, just like the way your heart beats against your ribcage.

when he feels your arms loosen, relaxing finally after the high of hormones and adrenaline, he slips away quickly to the bathroom, putting on his underwear as he goes. he grabs a towel, turning your tap on to warm water and checking the temperature with his wrist as he washes his hands, his face, cleaning himself up. running the towel under the water and squeezing it dry in the sink. his movements methodical, as he slips out of your room and into the kitchen, looking around for a glass of water.

he immediately races back the moment he hears a sound from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him just as you sit up, your expression clearing once you see him again. pulling his shirt from where it's discarded on the floor, he slides into bed, kissing you on the cheek.

he cleans you up with soft strokes, the warm towel soothing on your skin even though he hadn't really been rough. he makes you drink from the glass of water, watching you drain it carefully. finally, slipping his large shirt over your frame, swallowing at the way it envelopes your body, a feeling stirring in his gut that he ignores.

"y/n? are you with me?" when you don't respond, wide eyes looking up at him, he touches his fingers to your cheek. "baby?"

each brush of his skin against yours felt like trails of fire, lingering warmth even after he pulls away. every look he gave you through his lashes, the slight pout to his lips when he broke away from a kiss, made you feel like you were caught in a riptide, your pulse out of your control. you wanted to crawl into him and make a home in his chest. you never wanted him to look at you again with his shuttered eyes, to have to dream yourself into the skin of someone else as he touched them.

you had to tell him. "haechan…haechan i…" you reach for him, and he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you softly. you try to speak again, lips parting, but he envelopes your lips in a gentle kiss, nipping at your mouth each time you part, swallowing all your sounds with the sweep of his tongue.

"princess…" his voice sounds raw, and coarse. "don't say anything you don't mean."

"but-"

"you don't know me." was it regret in his voice, or your wishful thinking? "you don't know me at all. what you're feeling right now…" he touches a hand to your chest, brushing a kiss on your cheek. "it's because of the sex, alright?"

you shake your head.

your next words come out slurred, your eyelids starting to droop as sleep begins to tug at your mind, threatening to pull you under. "but…why can't i know you?"

he takes a deep breath. "i don't want you to."

"but i don't want this to end."

he holds you tighter against his chest at your words.

"this?" he questions, quietly. he keeps his voice light, but it still pierces your heart like a shard of glass. "there isn't a 'this' princess. this isn't happening again."

"why?"

"i don't want you to get attached." he cradles you even more carefully against him, freckling mellow kisses onto your forehead, the contrast between his words and his actions ringing dissonant in your ears. "besides… why would i spend the night with the same girl twice, hm?"

sleep softens the hurt from the words he's saying. his voice fades slightly, his touch against your skin roaring ever louder in your ears. "you know i won't be here when you wake up, right?" his fingers brush against your forehead lightly, pushing hair away from your eyes.

you knew.

but you still cried in the morning all the same — the golden-orange sunrise beautiful and terribly cruel, just like the boy you were perhaps falling in love with.

—

you spend the weekend alone.

you spend the weekend wondering if haechan thought of you at all, after he left. thinking if what he said was real, and it was just adrenaline and lust, then why did your heart ache at the thought of him? at his face on posters outside the small concert venue, inviting you to a show next week? why did you always turn at the slightest hint of his voice?

you try to forget him. you try to tell yourself he wasn't worth it. but deep down all of it, a part of you still hopes, which is perhaps why you were letting jaemin drag you past the poster of haechan, into the alleyway that led backstage.

"are you sure you need me there?" you pull at jaemin's sleeve, your other hand holding onto his spare camera carefully as he guides you into the venue.

"i do," he insists, pushing through a set of doors leading to the stage. "mark wants extra photos for their social media page and i can't be doing all of that at once."

you can hear the boys talking just around one of the curtains, sprawled out onstage, a cacophany of sounds as they absentmindedly plucked at their instruments. you were going to see haechan again. you can't tell if it makes you want to run towards them, or go back home. that familiar sense of hope, the kind you experienced in the crowd that first night, on the balcony, in the bedroom and in the moonlight, fills you up slowly, sweet and light. maybe, if he just saw you again…

"y/n-" jaemin puts a hand on your arm, stopping you gently before you could rush onto stage.

"yes?" you prompt.

"i know i dragged you here, but if you're feeling uncomfortable," he starts, and you start to slip away, but he only tightens his grip. "let me finish — if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if any of them are hurting you, let me know okay?"

you hadn't told him about haechan, something close to shame seeming to rise up and choke you whenever you tried to bring it up. all jaemin knew was that the last two times you had come into contact with the band it had upset you badly, and as your best friend and roommate he never wanted to see you crying on the balcony again.

"what would you do? beat them up?"

"i would leave." his serious tone doesn't change, unaffected by your attempt to lighten the mood.

"but the money –"

"no job is more important than you being okay," he insists. "i don't want to work for them if they hurt you. okay?"

"okay."

even though he looks unconvinced, his grip on your arm loosens and he takes your hand instead, pulling back the curtain with his other.

you can hear him say something to mark about today's shoot, hear him greet the rest of the members. you guess that mark is rising to greet him, hear something like jisung and jeno standing too, but everything fades to white noise when the sight you're looking at clicks in your mind, the one member of the band who's voice you hadn't heard, who hadn't bothered to turn around at jaemin's arrival.

or rather, the one boy who was too pre-occupied to — considering he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth.

haechan was facing away from you, away from the rest of his bandmates, you could really only see his broad back under his denim jacket, but the careful tilt of his head as he kissed her was all too familiar, as was the movement of his arms around her waist. and when she shifted in his lap, his hands pulling her hips down unto his, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a sharp pain searing at your chest in emotions you couldn't pinpoint.

"fuck, sorry about that –" mark's voice is flustered, and now a tall boy, the bassist, jisung, is stepping in front of you, blocking your view of him.

"sorry," he echoes, and you're momentarily caught off guard by how deep his voice is - husky and quiet. you blink up at him, fog slowly clearing in your mind, and he smiles shyly. "he doesn't usually do that."

"who?"

"um, haechan…" he looks back briefly, and you see haechan helping the girl to her feet, her body crumpled into his like she couldn't bear to be separated from his touch. you feel a wave of second-hand shame again – was that what you had looked like?

and then jisung turns back to you, towering over you again and blocking everything from view. "he usually only does this after the show, but today…"

"it's fine," you say, faintly.

jisung looks at you, carefully. "you're jaemin's friend y/n, right?"

you nod, half your mind still on what could be going on right now. behind jisung, you see mark pull haechan, now alone, towards a corner of the stage, whispering angrily at him. haechan is slouched lazily, picking at his nails with all the look of someone who couldn't care less about what was going on.

"i saw you at our last show," jisung continues. "i was going to…i was going…" he breaks off, a little embarrassed, fumbling with his words. "are you sure you're okay?"

"i'm fine, jisung." you repeat, your voice a little more firm, as you finally look back at him.

he blinks. "you know me?"

jisung still looked worried, but there was something sweet about the way he shrunk a little under your attention, eyes darting all over your face and around his surroundings, blush tinging his cheeks.

this you were comfortable with – something completely different from the way haechan's eyes always tried to drink you in, or the way your vision would go blurry at the edges when he would stand in front of you. talking with jisung was easy, the confidence that haechan drained from you seeping back and settling in.

he had meant it, when he said you shouldn't get attached. you just had to learn it before it brought you more hurt you couldn't justify.

"jisung," you emphasise. "of course i know you. you play bass, right?"

"y-yeah," he stammers, pointing unecessarily at his dark blue bass guitar on its stand. "i don't know, i guess i always thought people didn't really know me even if they knew the band." he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, black hair falling over his eyes. "people usually choose to stand where haechan or mark are."

"you usually stand on the left?"

he nods, bashfully, and a smile tugs at your lips.

"i'll make sure to stand there, later during the show."

"wow, okay." he pauses for a moment, steeling himself. "how about after?"

"what do you mean?"

"would you want to meet…after the show?" he hesitates, voice soft.

your brow furrows slightly. "do you mean the party?"

"we don't have to go," he blurts out. "i don't mean…i don't mean like what haechan usually does after the show."

his name is an unwelcome sting, but the way jisung sneaks glances up at you from where he looks down at his feet makes it a little easier to forget. "then what do you want to do?"

"w-we can get something to eat." he says it like he just suggested robbing a bank.

oh. "like a date?"

mortified, his lips part, and you can tell that he's frantically trying to read your tone, trying to figure out if the idea of it made you uncomfortable, whether you were suggesting because you wanted it. it's so endearing, watching him start his sentences and stop them, the hem of his shirt crumpled and worn out by his nervous fingers.

eventually, he takes a deep breath, and settles for a question. "d-do you mind if it's a date?"

did you?

was there any hope in waiting for haechan, when he had made it so clear that you would never have him again?

jisung is still looking at you like you have all the power in the world to hurt him.

"i don't mind," you say, softly, feeling a hum of satisfaction in your chest at the way it makes his lips part in blissful surprise. a beat. "do you want it to be…?"

"yes," he blurts out. "please," he adds, shyly.

the awkward silence between the two of you feels good, the lightness of it familiar and giddy, like a schoolgirl crush. jisung can't stop smiling, biting his lips slightly as he turns to face mark, who's crossed to the front of the stage to speak to them.

" — jisung, jaemin will start with your photos first. we'll just be shooting the rehearsal process today, so there's no need to-" he breaks off, brow furrowing. "jisung why are you so red?"

"i-it's w-warm in here."

"well you should cool off before jaemin takes your photos." jisung nods, flustered, and he walks offstage with jaemin to prepare. jeno too, strolls away with a wave to mark, leaving him alone at the front of the stage.

with you.

mark glances over at you, his eyes darting over your face, trying to read your expression. you can almost hear haechan's voice from that night, the ghost of the hurt still palpable in your bones. but the moment you take a step back, thinking that you should find jaemin and jisung, mark seems to have made up his mind — his face set, he starts to walk over to you, and you find your own footsteps falter.

"um, y/n, can i speak to you for a second?"

you take a deep breath. "is this about the photos for later?"

"no…not exactly." he clears his throat. there's a pause, as he seems to pick his words. "y/n, did i do something wrong?"

you blink at him. "what do you mean?"

"i mean, i know it was a while ago, but i thought we were getting along fine at the party," it feels like he's rehearsed this to some capacity, or perhaps it was just the confidence of being a lead singer. "but then since then every time i saw you…i feel like you've been avoiding me."

"i haven't been avoiding you." you take a deep breath. "mark, do you have a girlfriend?"

his eyes widen. "are you…are you asking me out?"

"what?" you balk. "no!"

"oh." his face falls. "i mean…i just thought…"

"that's just too bad, markie."

it’s practically deja vu.

haechan stands behind you, his body radiating warmth, and you inhale sharply. surprisingly, he doesn't smell saccharine, the way he always does with the girls he chooses — his skin smells like baby powder and fresh linen. your body is doing that thing again – where you hone in on his presence and the whole world dissolves, and you're hyper attuned to the way his arm hovers near yours, his breath on the back of your neck. anything you were about to say to mark completely lost in your brain.

exasperated, mark runs his hand through his hair. "haechan…don't be difficult."

"i'm not." you feel almost numb when his hand touches your elbow, sliding down to hold your hand tight in his grip. "y/n and i have to talk about something."

"can't it wait?"

"it's urgent," haechan says, sarcastically, giving you a sharp tug towards him. your feet stumble as haechan starts to walk off, and you turn one last time to see mark standing there, looking a little forlorn, suddenly small under the bright lights of the stage.

"sorry, –" you mumble out. mark frowns, starting towards you.

but now haechan really pulls you along, yanking curtains aside and accessing a short flight of stairs. you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him in waves, making it a little hard to breathe as you try to keep up, afraid of what he'll say if your hand slips from his grasp.

he guides you along a corridor and through a doorway, stepping into the warm light of a dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you as haechan pulls you in.

you're almost afraid to look at him, but you do anyway.

he's slightly breathless from the walk down, stooping slightly to lock the door with careful hands. when he straightens and steps towards you, the lights hitting his features, you can see that he's covered up the hickeys on his neck with makeup. something mark made him do, no doubt.

"haechan -"

"park jisung? really?" he sneers, backing you into the dressing table.

"what?"

"don't lie to me," he demands. "i saw you."

"really?" you fold your arms across your chest as he moves in closer, planting both hands on the table on either side of your hips, caging you in. "you looked busy. where did she go, hm? did mark send her away, or did you?"

haechan rolls his eyes. "that's none of your business."

"jisung said you don't usually bring girls to the rehearsal," you continue, watching the way his tongue pokes into his cheek in annoyance. "what happened?"

"you two talked about me?" he demands. "what else did you do? make plans to fuck after the show?"

"i'm not a virgin anymore," you remind him, your voice laced with a warning. "i thought you only cared about my first time."

haechan groans. seeing you talk to jisung out of the corner of his eye, seeing your hands brush and his friend's head duck shyly to the side, gave him a weight on his chest which grew heavier each time he took a breath, each time he had to hear one of jisung's small laughs.

"if you want to have mediocre sex then i couldn't care less," he snaps. "just know that you're going to have to fuck a lot of people before you forget me."

you can see that you're losing him, the familiar closed-off look coming back to his face, anger dissapating into indifference.

"what is there to forget?" you ask, hurt and anger making your voice shake.

haechan is staring at you, his face now so close to yours if you leaned in just slightly your lips would brush.

"you don't mean that," he says, quietly.

and just like that, all the fight drains out of you.

"haechan, jisung just wants to take me out on a date." his features tense, and he bites his lower lip harshly. "would you ever ask me out on a date, haechan?"

he doesn't respond.

"would you?"

"i told you," he breathes. "i don't do that."

"you told me you didn't want to be my first time, and you took it back," you remind him, quietly.

"that's different." you can't help the disappointment that wells up inside you, and you know he can see it from the way his face falls too.

"don't look at me like that, princess." he sinks into your touch easily, warmth once again circling your body.

you don't know if you wished haechan was a liar, or if you wished he wasn't. if he was telling the truth about everything, it would be easier to let go of him, to walk away from someone who could only cause you pain, from someone who played with you over and over again.

but maybe if he was lying it would all make sense – the way he said he didn't want you and yet kept showing up, the jealousy and the conflict in his voice, all of it would have some sort of plausible reason, one that would mean that maybe he cared for you.

"i don't want to do this anymore," you mumble, hands placed on his chest. you only push at him lightly, but he backs off all the way to the opposite wall, your words feeling like salt in his wounds. "i can't do this with you, haechan."

"y/n-"

"you have a show soon," you mumble, turning around to look in the mirror. you comb your hair with your fingers, trying to calm yourself down. behind you, haechan's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows drawn together as he looks up at your reflection.

"i'm trying to talk to you."

"are you?" it's a genuine question, and it makes him falter, a response half-formed on his lips. when it's clear he won't finish his thought, you close your eyes.

"you need to go," you say again, quietly.

"will you be there?"

you don’t respond, and he repeats himself, urgently.

"will you be there? at the show?"

"i will," you say, hesitantly.

"i'll see you then." his voice is controlled, and steady. somehow it feels like the calm before the storm.

but before you can turn around to try to talk to him, persuade him to calm down, ask him what's wrong, he's already left the room, the sound of his heeled boots echoing down the hall.

—

"is everything okay?"

"why are they taking so long?"

"are they late?"

unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you stand in the crowd, the voices all around you whispering anxiously. it had been 15 minutes since the show was scheduled to start — but the lights on the stage were dim, and the pre-show playlist had just restarted for the second time. you had situated yourself on the left side of the stage, where jisung usually stood, and you bounced on your toes, hoping that everything was alright backstage so jisung could come out and see that you had kept your promise.

and then there's a low rumble, as lights finally flood the venue, the crowd sighing with relief as jeno and mark appear – jeno waving at the crowd, his drumsticks in one hand, while mark smiles reassuringly, walking over to the mic and checking that it's at the correct height. he apologizes lightly for the delay, looking to the side of the stage nervously as he murmurs a quick introduction of the band into the mic.

haechan strides onto stage, electric guitar slung around his neck, as the crowd's screams reach an all-time high. he stops abruptly at the left side of the stage, right in front of where you stood, nodding at the crowd and cocking his head from side to side, as if preparing for a fight. he keeps his face level as his eyes find yours, that same burning intensity you felt in the dressing room unwavering as he held your gaze.

and then jisung appears, footsteps faltering where haechan stood, the grip on his bass going slack.

"haechan." jisung's voice is soft, you can barely hear it from where you stand so close to the stage. you can tell that the crowd behind has no clue what's going on, but some fans are looking at each other confusedly, pointing at the two boys, and the position on mark's left where haechan usually stood, now empty.

"yes?" haechan's not looking at jisung, fingers running phantom chords up and down the fret board.

"w-why are you standing here?" jisung whispered, embarrassment evident in his tone. "aren't you supposed to be on mark's left?"

haechan's eyes briefly flick up to yours. "not today."

distressed, jisung makes a sound. "haechan." guilt fills up your lungs like smoke, making it difficult to breathe, a twist in your chest as jisung looks over at you, lost.

"run along, jisung," haechan murmurs, softly. "don't want to keep the fans waiting."

mark, not wanting to draw attention to them, keeps smiling at the crowd, starting to ask them a few questions. jisung only tries a few more times, haechan resolutely ignoring him, before finally accepting defeat, casting his eyes over to you — his gaze wounded and confused, as he walks off with his bass. he assumes haechan's position, and the crowd cheers encouragingly. the boy manages a smile.

when mark starts to introduce the first song, haechan finally looks up, a faint smile playing on his lips as his eyes lock with yours again. just like the day you met.

and just like the day you met, you felt yourself fall under his spell, yet again.

—

"haechan, i think we —" you gasp out, in between the kisses that haechan is pressing to your lips.

he gives a non-committal hum, his legs framing your body as he holds you close to his chest. his lips are warm and soft, tasting slightly of cherries, as he opens you up little by little, chaste kisses turning into open-mouthed ones, his tongue darting out and gently licking into your mouth in a way that was intoxicating.

you grip onto his arm harshly, trying to ground yourself, and he inhales sharply, breaking away.

"haechan –" you pant. "we should-"

but then he's kissing you again, smothering your words with his lips and his tongue. his hands rub at your lower back, guiding your movements as you shift against him, his hips grinding upwards almost lazily.

"jisung, –" you start, but now he gives a groan, rumbling through his chest almost like a roar. slumped back against the car door, he glares at you, touching the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb.

"you did not just fucking say my bandmates name while you're on me."

"we should apologize to jisung," your words come out in a rush.

"for?" he catches the look on your face, and rolls his eyes. "fine," he mumbles. "i'll talk to him." leaning up towards you, he starts to pepper kisses down your jaw, sucking a little harder on the mark he had left before. "kiss me?" he mumbles, and you have to stop yourself from caving in.

"haechan," you press on, as haechan licks boldly at your collarbone. "haechan –"

"keep saying my name," he murmurs, hands roaming up your shirt, teasing over the clasp of your bra.

"mark, —"

"fuck." breaking away agian, haechan tips his head back, lips stretched out and puffy as he tongued his cheek. "you want me jealous princess? is that it? because it's fucking working –"

"haechan, we keep hurting people." you place both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down.

"what?"

"today we hurt mark too. although, i don't really know why–" you break off, thinking about how he looked as he tried to follow after you and haechan. how jisung's cheeks burned red as he walked across the stage. "haechan, they're your friends."

"you wanna hurt jeno too?" he raises his eyebrows, his own hands now mindlessly scraping against yours. "you can lead him on, and then we can fuck while he watches. although he'll probably like that –"

again, he takes in the way you frown. "fine. sorry. jeez."

"i don't want to hurt people because of us," you say, softly.

"well," he exhales. "they're only hurt because they can't have you, princess." he tucks your hair behind your ear from where its come loose. "there's nothing we can do, hm?"

you shake your head. "you're not being fair," you whisper.

"how so?" his hands slide down. there's something possessive in the drag of his palms, the way he squeezes your waist.

"you don't call me yours…but you also don't let them near me." your voice is small, but it rings loud in the silence of the car all the same. the streets outside were empty and deserted, and you think you can hear your heart beating in the still air as your palms stay pressed on his firm chest. "haechan…i need you to choose."

it's a long time before haechan responds. he's tired from the show and all the adrenaline, you can feel it in his slow breathing, in the way his eyes blink slowly up at you like an afterthought. but his eyes are what give it away – his gaze is sharp and calculative as his eyes roam your body, his touches not quite as drowsy as he appears, fingers tingling against skin.

you wait, your heart in your throat. you wait and you hope.

his full lips part, his eyes meeting yours.

"so…this is our last time together?"

of course that's his choice. the disappointment spreads like cold, an ache deep in your bones. "if that's what you choose." your voice is flimsy. "haechan, —" but nothing leaves your mouth, just a wounded sound. everything rushing up inside you like a waves breaking over the shore, memories flooding your senses.

the hurt on mark's face. haechan's hands on your skin. the blush that burned at jisung's skin as he watched haechan pull you to his car, his figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. haechan's lips against your ear as he held you.

"shhh," his arms hold you against his chest, smoothing down your spine as he comforts you as if you were a baby, you clinging on tight to him as if he were going to disappear. "it's okay," he murmurs. "we'll just have to make it count, hm?" gently, he guides your face out of his chest, relieved when he realizes that you're not crying yet, at least. kissing your cheek gently, he brushes his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. "are you alright? do you want me to take you home?"

"s-stop it." you manage to steady your breathing enough to repeat yourself. "stop being gentle with me, haechan. stop leading me on."

"stop getting hurt," he replies, a little teasing, but his tone aches.

"kiss me?"

this time you do, letting him guide your movements, as he pulls you down into his body as if he were trying to pull you all the way through him.

his kisses are slow and sweet, tilting his head almost shyly, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as he leans up into you. his tongue carefully slides over your bottom lip, before he's nudging your lips apart with his own again, tongue gently moving over yours, pulling away with a small smile when you chase after him, tongue stuck out slightly, chasing the warmth of his mouth.

"cute," he mumbles, and you pull your shirt up over your head just so he won't see the way your cheeks burn in the dark.

his movements become a little more urgent as he unclasps your bra, letting it slide to the floor of his car as he surges towards you. his lips begin to suck marks onto your chest, hands now squeezing your soft breasts, mapping your body indulgently. his tongue licks slowly around your right nipple, before giving it a gentle flick with his tongue, your body shifting restlessly against him as it sends a wave of arousal down to your core. he hugs you against him to steady your movements, lapping at your nipples and guiding each roll of your hips down into his.

your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him away from you. before you can tell him to stop teasing, he's kissed you again — placating. sweet like he knew everything you were about to say, before you even said it.

you raise your hips as his hands smooth over the pleats of your skirt, before flipping the soft material upwards. you hadn't worn anything special, not having the courage to, but the way he looked at your simple white panties, thumb running carefully over the pink bow in the middle of the waistband, made you feel warm all over. you hurry to pull them off, just to break the moment, but he catches them right before you tug them off your ankle.

"can i keep these?" his doe-eyes blink up at you. you can see the brown in his irises, almost gold in the light. you nod, and he lets out a laugh, kissing you through his smile as his fingers wander up your thighs.

he starts with slow circles on your clit, stroking the nub gently, feeling the way your hips shift at the feeling. when he speeds up his motions, fingers teasing along your slit and catching at your entrance a few times, your hips begin to pick up a steady rhythm, rocking into his hand.

"do you just want to cum like this?" he asks kindly, placing a bit more pressure on the tips of his fingers. he wants to be inside you badly, his erection almost painful from the lack of contact, but he knew that it might do more for him than it did for you.

this was how he wanted you to be taken care of for your first time, for your second time — this is why he didn't want you to slip away from him into rooms with men who wouldn't know what you needed, wouldn't care what you wanted.

or at least — it's what he tells himself to keep him sane.

"'m close," you mumble, your movements uncoordinated, neediness driving your hips into his hand, pleasure that you didn't quite know how to handle. "feels so empty, haechan, please –"

he slows down his movements, a hand sliding over your waist to rub at your lower back, eliciting a warm sound from you that radiates into his chest. he slides a finger into your tight entrance, feeling the way you tense around him, slowly slipping the finger in and out, curling against your walls carefully. his thumb comes up to press your clit, and you inhale sharply as the pressure in your abdomen builds.

"more…"

"baby, you're doing so well," he praises. freckling careful kisses on your neck to distract you, you feel another finger catch against your entrance, his hand breaking its rhythm to carefully slide in, stretching your hole out even more. with a lewd suck on the base of your neck, he curls both fingers against your walls, a slick finger slipping on your clit, and you feel yourself crash headfirst into your high, thighs clamping around his hand in sensitivity as you moan. he murmurs praises against your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly between each one.

he removes his hand from your core with a wet sound, and you drop down into his lap, feeling weak at the knees even though you weren't standing. he lets out a groan, feeling your wetness and warmth through his jeans, and he can feel his cock twitch under the fabric. but still, he waits until your breathing evens out, using his cleaner hand to stroke at your sides, humming lightly under his breath, the reassuring sound filling the car. his breaths sync with yours as you come down from your high, and together you let out a shaky exhale.

"do you mind?" he asks, quietly, hands going to his belt slowly, trying not to startle you. "we don't have to have sex. i just really need to take care of this now…" you nod, flustered, crawling backwards down his legs, and he leans forward to kiss the crown of your hair. against the soft sounds of your breathing, the sound of him unbuckling his belt, letting it drop into the shadows, and the rustle of fabric as he tugged his jeans and underwear down as much as he could, were endlessly arousing. you felt yourself begin to pulse with need again, your thighs squeezing together when he pulls out his cock, thick and heavy against his palm, the tip blushy and leaking.

he gives himself a tentative stroke, spreading pre-cum over his length before squeezing the base and hissing at the feeling as he tries to stop from cumming too soon. as if in a trance, you reach out towards him, your hand curiously wrapping around his shaft. he groans, low, as you give him a tentative stroke, although the sound is cut off by a high whimper when your fingers rub the head of his cock, silky under your fingertips.

"baby, you don't have to –" he's cut off by another moan as you squeeze his length, applying more pressure as you stroke. "fuck, jus' like that," he mumbles, weakly, as you twist your wrist a little on a downstroke, palm slippery with pre-cum. after a few more strokes, watching haechan's head loll this way and that, twisting with pleasure, you pay more attention to his tip, thumbing just under it, fingers rubbing his slit. haechan's hips are restless, thrusting into your hand, his body shaking and the muscles on his abdomen clenched tight. you give him a few more strokes, and his whines fill up the car, raspy and sinful in a way that made you crave him even more.

mimicking his movements, you slide your hand back down to his base and squeeze. he blinks hazily up at you, lips still parted, panting breathlessly.

"baby…"

"i need you," your voice feels broken, desire pulsing through each syllable. "please haechan," you add, as he swallows harshly, his cock twitching slightly against the warmth of your hand.

pulling you towards him, he kisses you again, fingers wandering down to your heat and stroking your folds. "so wet from touching me, baby?" he teases, smiling against your lips as he slips a finger in, and then another, your walls sucking him in easily. he finds your soft spot immediately, your thighs shaking around his hand as you whine. it's a sound embarrassing to your own ears, but it's like music to haechan's ears, as he lets out a low groan.

"it's too bad it's your last time with me," he murmurs, lightly, as he takes a condom out from the glove compartment, his hands moving swiftly as he tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. "i would love to record your pretty sounds…" your voice lets out another small whimper, as if proving him right, as he adjusts you on his lap so the head of his cock lines up with your entrance. slowly, you sink down on him, clutching onto his body for support as you feel him fill you up tightly.

"breathe," he coaxes, letting his own head sink back against the seats, the hazy feeling of you wet and warm around him intensifying as you take all of him inside you. he continues on, trying to distract you by peppering gentle kisses all over your cheeks. "would you like to hear your voice in a song, sweetheart? all the girls in the crowd wondering who's pretty voice is on the track, wondering who's making her feel this good…" he hisses, when he feels you pulse around him. "you want that?"

your lips part, stuttering out jumbles of half-sentences, yes-es and nos. "'m just teasing, baby," he coos, as he thrusts his hips upwards experimentally, bouncing you on his lap. you lean into his body, feeling muscle firm under your palms as you raise your hips and grind against him, sensitivity making your thighs shake as the movement stimulates your clit.

responding to your need, his arm loops around your waist while his fingers wander towards your clit, stroking and rubbing it expertly as he continues to thrust up into you, the car jolting with his movements. his strong thighs tense as he moves, barely pulling out before stuffing himself into you again, your walls kneading his length in a way that makes his body feel hot with need, chasing his climax. your soft sounds each time his tip grazes your soft spot are an aphrodisiac, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder inside you, so aroused it almost hurts.

"haechan, i'm cumming," you moan, and his fingers put more pressure on your clit, as you bounce on him, eager for release.

"keep saying my name," he breathes, pulling you close, your bodies moving frantic and unsteady against each other, as you cum, mouthing his name against his skin. he empties himself into the condom soon after, hips still jolting as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your climax, your breaths echoing loud in the car.

you almost wanted to ask for round 2 — and you were sure he would give it to you, if you had asked. instead you stay silent, feeling emptier than ever as he pulls out, your body draining of his warmth as he cleans you with wipes from his glove compartment, kissing you sweetly whenever your eyes met. the water bottle he procured from the passenger seat of the car making you wonder if this was his plan all along, as you sipped quietly, as he put your address in his phone to take you home.

—

you can feel him slip away from you on the drive back.

a sea of red and green lights move across the planes of his face as you watch him drive, one hand on the wheel and the other touching your hand softly on the centre console. you give his fingers a faint squeeze and he smiles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your fingertips.

when you reach the next intersection, he pulls his hand from yours and puts it back on the steering wheel.

when he makes his next turn, his shoulders start to tense and the easy, relaxed expression on his face morphs into a stony one.

and when he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, turning to face you, the glowing streetlights illuminating the outlines of his face do nothing to soften the blow of seeing him like this again — looking at you with half-lidded eyes, almost lazy in his power.

"are you coming to the next show?"

"i want to," you respond, your voice small. "...should i?"

"it doesn't really matter to me." his fingers tap against the wheel, restlessly. "i just hope you know you shouldn't wait around afterwards."

you bite your lip. "i know."

he nods. "so you know this is over?"

"i know."

"good girl." it feels like a punch to the stomach, and you inhale, sharply, hands gripping the handle of the car door. waiting for him to dismiss you, as he always did.

but then he's speaking again, breaking the silence. his voice is softer, a little more hesitant – "do you need me to walk you up?" he's not looking at you, eyes trained on his dashboard. "will you be okay?"

it's cruel, the way your heart stutters in your chest. you take one last look at him, trying to memorize everything — the sharp line of his jaw, his collarbones, the joints of his fingers, the way his pinky finger crooks slightly to the right. the faint smell of vanilla and something darker, mixed with his warmth. you try to memorize it because you're sure this is the last time you'll be so close to him again, both in proximity, and in the way his voice aches with something close to tenderness. in that moment, you know if you told him you needed him, he would turn off the engine and open your car door, holding you safe against his chest and walking you up to your apartment. but what for? for him to shut off on the way up the elevator, and turn into a stranger at your door?

"it's fine," you murmur, and you don't wait for a response before stepping out into the warm night.

—

your ribs press against the barrier, and you wince slightly. the crowd screams loud in your ear, as the boy in front of you looks up from his guitar at the crowd in front of him, dark gaze sliding over faces, tongue poking at his cheek and puffy lips stretched.

his eyes briefly meet yours, and your heart skips a beat.

and then he's looking back down at his guitar again, lips pursed in concentration.

the next time he glances up, the familiar glint is back, eyebrows drawn together. there was something strange about the way he was looking at you, not exactly meeting your eyes. was he looking at your clothes? your hair? or…

"oh my god!"

you shoot a brief glance back, at the girl who's just let out a squeal. she claps her hands over her mouth, eyes shining as she stares adoringly at haechan, unblinking. you don't have to check to know he's staring right back — you know the look on her face a little too well.

the disappointment and jealousy weighing on your chest is entirely unjustified, but you feel it heavy in your bones, anyway.

he had meant every word: it was truly over.

–

"did anyone see you?"

"no," you whimper, as he mouths over the seat of your panties, tongue lapping at your folds through the fabric.

"good girl," he pants, letting out a satisfied groan when he tugs them down your legs, burying his face in between your legs with a lewd moan.

but if it was truly over, why did he find you after the show last week, – slipping by you to tell you to meet him in the upstairs master bedroom, where he fingered you open in front of the mirror?

if it was truly over, why did a stagehand stop you from leaving after the next show you went to, passing you a note that told you to wait at the back entrance of the venue?

"fuck fuck fuck-"

and if it was truly over, why was he currently in between your spread legs, his mouth and chin covered with your juices as you lay on his bed?

"need you now, princess." his fingers brush your clit, and your thighs shake with overstimulation. "are you okay? i can wait-"

"don't wait," you plead, pulling him towards you. he follows, propping himself up on his arms as his face reaches yours, his lips gently nudging your own apart, letting you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you. his sticky hands stroke your sides, leaving trails on your skin. "haechan –"

he interrupts you with another kiss. freckling more kisses down your neck, he smiles against the mark he left days ago, fading slightly now. "i missed this," he murmurs, and your heart stings, a collection of memories surfacing in your mind – of his eyes avoiding yours at shows. of him waiting onstage for someone else. of him smiling at you cordially, face blank as if he were greeting you for the first time when he talked to you in front of other fans.

"did you really?"

he doesn't respond, latching his lips to your skin with a hum, hands cupping your breasts in one swift motion, fingers teasing over your nipples and making your body arch into his touch.

"haechan…"

"what do you want, princess?" he wanders lower, licking at your cleavage. your mind threatens to blank when he circles a fingertip around your areola, puffy wet lips closing around a nipple and sucking wetly. "hm?"

"want you to fuck me…" your voice is shaky, but you press on. "like how you were gonna fuck that girl."

his hands still for just a brief second. you can see your words hit him, understanding and lust flickering in his responding laugh. he focuses his eyes back on your face, hands now coming up to brush your lips, caressing your cheek, smoothing over your skin almost lovingly.

this is how he was going to fuck her?

"open up," he murmurs, fingers pressed to your bottom lip. as if stuck in a trance, your lips part.

a wet mess of saliva, still mixed with traces of your arousal, drips down from his tongue into your mouth, connecting your lips with his in a glossy sheen. his lips tug into a smile as he sees your blown-out pupils, arousal completely overriding his every thought.

his fingers trace your jaw. "swallow," he commands, sweetly, and as always you do exactly as he says.

you feel something shift against your upper thigh, your hips rising on instinct to buck against his hard length, still trapped behind his ripped jeans.

his low groan is interrupted by a sharp rattling of the doorknob, followed by a thud against the door. both of you still, eyes focused on the locked door, straining your ears to hear the voices outside.

"are you sure no one saw you?" haechan asks, quietly. "did jisung see you? mark? jeno?"

"i don't think so," you mumble.

that was the arrangement you had come up with a little over a week ago, discussed in heated kisses and bliss-induced haze. you could keep seeing haechan, as long as you never saw the rest of the band again. on nights when he knew he wanted you, you would slip through crowds like a ghost to make your way into warm beds and cold bathrooms, saving him from the jealousy, and saving you from the questions.

of course, there were a few nights where no message would find you, where he wouldn't grab your wrist as you brushed past him in a hallway, his hands distracted with someone else. those nights used to make you cry, your entire being aching for his attention, his indifference just as bruising as his care.

the doorknob rattles again, and there's a knock on the door.

"haechan? are you in there?"

mark's voice.

"they're back early from the party," haechan mumbled. to your shock, he ignores them and tugs off his shirt roughly, revealing delicate tanned skin dotted with moles, looking soft-to-touch.

"haechan," mark's voice is exasperated. "i thought we agreed not to bring girls to our apartment."

haechan rolls his eyes as his hands go to his belt, ridding himself of his pants and underwear. you can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he makes his way up the bed, hands holding your hips.

"you wanted me to fuck you like the other girls?" he murmurs, low so only you can hear. "well. on your knees."

"but mark is –" you break off, seeing the way his eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in his pupils. "but…but they're outside," you whisper. as if to prove your point, mark bangs on the door again.

and then jisung's voice, low and urgent comes through the door. "who is he even with? the girl he left the show with was alone when i saw her."

"god, are they all outside the door?" haechan grumbles, focusing his attention back on you when you let out a small sound of distress. "forget about them," he soothes, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. his mouth moves over yours searingly, possessive and all-consuming in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth. "on your knees," he commands, quietly, against your mouth. "i won't ask again."

a thrill runs down your spine as you flip over, his large hands adjusting you so your back arches, head pressed into the pillows as he holds your hips up. he presses a kiss to your back as he reaches off the bed for a condom, rolling it onto his hard length with a soft groan. you look over your shoulder, see him stroking himself, mouth hanging open.

"hurry," you plead. you can feel slick on your thighs from the way he ate you out earlier, growing wetter from anticipation. "please."

he ignores you. "can you be quiet for me?" he mumbles. outside, you can hear the boys discussing something heatedly, voices low so you can't make out the words. "don't want anyone else to hear you."

"yes," you promise, meekly.

"good girl." he lines himself up to your entrance, reaching around to rub your clit as he runs the tip of his cock against your folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, trying hard not to let it catch your vocal cords.

one hand on your hip and the other stroking your lower back, he pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. you feel a sting as he stretches your walls, filling you up deeply while burying himself inside you. he murmurs for you to relax, listening to you take shallow breaths, the way your hole flutters around his length making him want to thrust forward, relieve his own ache.

"haechan, are you asleep?"

there's a sharp rap on the door, and haechan curses as it makes you tighten around him, gummy walls gripping him like a vice, as if begging for his cum.

"you liked that, baby?" his voice is low, and mocking. you whimper. "you like the idea of them coming in and seeing you like this? letting me take you like a slut?"

"haechan, we know you're in there." now it's jeno's rough voice, devoid of its usual warmth. "we saw the shoes at the door. we need to talk."

haechan pulls out until only his tip is still inside you, and slams back in aggressively, filling you to the brim. he starts to build a rhythm, thrusting deep and slow inside you, letting you feel the drag of him against your walls as he strokes your clit with his fingers. he was taking his time with you — pausing to lean forward and press kisses to your shoulders, mouthing messily over your skin.

"haechan, please -" you try to keep your voice quiet, but he chooses this time to fuck you a little harder, picking up the pace, and your mouth hangs open as your aborted whimpers turn into drawn out moans.

"hm?" he prompts, faking nonchalance. but you can feel that the pace is affecting him too, his breathing growing heavier as he speeds up a little more.

"harder," you mumble, words feeling thick and slow in your mouth. "faster. fuck,"

a bang on the door. the loud sound makes you jolt, and haechan hisses as you clench down on him harshly again, your thighs inching closer together, creating a tighter fit around his thick cock.

"i wonder why they're not coming in yet." his voice in your ear is low, sultry. the kind he uses on-stage when he's teasing the crowd.

"i-isn't the door l-locked?"

"sure…but it's a really old lock. i know mark could open it if he really wanted to. he's done it before when i'm late for rehearsals, ah fuck-" he's slamming himself into you, barely pulling out before pushing in again, wet sounds filling the room. "fuck, you must really like that. how do you just keep getting tighter and tighter, hm?"

"haech–"

"maybe i'll ask them to come in…" he muses, his tone sickly sweet. "i just know you'll cum hard on my cock when they open the door, right? let them see how filthy you are?"

"don't –", you choke.

"should i tell them not to come in?"

"no," you gasp, and he laughs, darkly.

"no, i should tell them to come in?" he asks between breathless pants, pace unrelenting as the lewd sound of skin against skin fills the room. "you want me to talk to them baby?"

you let out an incoherent mumble, no longer sure of anything.

he coos at that. "dumb already, princess?" his hand wanders up to your chest, blunt nails haphazardly scraping across your nipples. your hips push back onto him instinctively, fucking yourself onto his length, your hips chasing pleasure from the sensitivity as you cum.

"haechan, i'm not leaving until you open the door." another thud, as mark sits down.

"fuck…" haechan's only half listening to mark as he throws his head back, murmuring curses as he feels you clench around him, milking his cock. it takes all the self control he has to place his hands on your waist, stilling your movements as he pulls out of you. he's so hard that it hurts, and he knows his release is close, but he still shifts your body until you're lying on your back, and he can see your tear-streaked face, drool smeared all over your chin.

you mouth his name soundlessly, fresh waves of tears gathering on your waterline as you see him move away from you, and you try to sit up to keep him in your line of sight.

"haechan, –"

"i'm here," he murmurs, one hand immediately finding yours and squeezing, the other grappling for the water bottle on the bedside table. he unscrews the cap with one hand as he moves towards you, helping you prop yourself up against the headboard. "drink."

he holds the bottle up to your lips, but you shake your head. "want you," you whisper, even though your mouth feels warm and sticky, your throat dry from moaning. you can't focus on anything except for the emptiness inside you, your clit throbbing whenever you shift your thighs together slightly. you're focused on his hard length, the slope of his shoulders down to his slender waist. you shake your head again, knocking the bottle against your lips and spilling a little bit of the water onto the sheets.

"don't be a brat." his voice is low, a dangerous sort of patience in his tone. "drink, or i won't give you what you want."

you swallow, his voice washing over you, pulling you under. this time when he raises the bottle to your lips, you hold it with shaky hands, letting water trickle down your throat. his own hand comes up, touching two fingers to your neck gently, making sure you were drinking instead of pretending by feeling for the movement of your throat.

"done?" he watches you lick your parted lips, dewy with water and saliva, and takes the bottle from you, placing it back on the stand. "do you want to keep going?"

you nod, slowly.

"use your words," he commands, quietly.

"please don't stop," you plead, shuffling towards him. it feels like the fog has cleared slightly in your head, the water making the heat haze dissipate. vaguely, you're sure that mark, jisung, and jeno must know what you were doing – must have heard the headboard thumping against the wall, haechan's low groans and your breathless whimpers.

you wonder what mark is thinking now, outside, not leaving and yet not breaking in like haechan said he could. it sends a wave of arousal down to your core, some part of you wanting him to see the way you break for haechan, completely and wholly his. your way of rejecting him without having to see his face – your way of explaining why you ignored him whenever he caught your eyes during shows and after-parties.

haechan reads you easily, observing the way your eyes flicker to the door. he's torn between opening the door himself — letting mark see you on his bed, fucked stupid by him, or stepping outside and telling mark to leave because no one should see or hear you like this but him.

"do you want me to tell mark to leave?"

"n-no," you hesitate. "don't."

he raises his eyebrows. "why?"

"w-want him to know that i'm yours," you mumble, a hand wrapping around his thigh and squeezing.

haechan's eyes darken. “mine?” he echoes, quietly, almost gently.

you're so focused on the shift in his features – the set of his jaw, the way he tenses, that you barely notice he's sliding off the bed and picking you up effortlessly so that you cling to his upper body, legs gripping his waist. his lip curls into a smile, head tilted mockingly as he starts to walk, strong arms holding you up.

your back hits solid wood, and you gasp.

"haechan?" mark's voice is crystal clear on the other side of the door.

haechan adjusts his grip, pushing you against the door as he slides his tip along your dripping cunt, making you squirm in his hold.

"be good, hm?" he whispers, as he pushes into you, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls sucking him back in, pulsing along his length and making his cock throb. when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, and you can see that this situation is heightening his arousal, causing his thrusts to be sloppy and unfocused as he chases his own high. each time he pushes into you, the weight of his hips snapping against yours pushes against the door, and you hear it jolt a little, the lock jiggling.

mark's shouted expletive rings against your ears, mirrored by haechan's own as he captures your lips in a kiss. the feeling is familiar and new at the same time, his tongue sliding languidly over yours, swiping against your bottom lip. at the sight of your parted mouth and wet lips, he moans again, and without hesitating he spits into your waiting mouth, sloppy and messy, causing it to dribble past your lips and down your chin.

the rhythm against the door is unmistakable, and you can hear footsteps as mark runs off. haechan laughs, a pleased hum in his chest that vibrates against your own as he leans into you, and he mouths down your neck, biting at your shoulder and letting his low groan scrape against his throat as a growl. you cum when your stiff nipples brush against his chest, the tiny bit of stimulation just enough to throw you over the edge into your orgasm, your thighs clenching around him as you sob, your core aching.

the feeling of your walls rippling around his length is too much to bear, and he barely lets you ride out your orgasm on him before he's pulling out of you and carrying you back to his bed. haechan tugs off the condom urgently as you lie there, tired and spent, watching as he strokes his length, fast, eyes fluttering open and shut with lust, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably. his thumb ghosts just under the head of his cock, and then he's cumming all over your stomach and chest, sticky white spurts pooling on your skin.

you watch him out of half-lidded eyes as his breathing slows, collapsing next to you in a heap. the high from the sex hasn't faded yet – the consequences of being heard by all his bandmates hasn't hit you, as you bask in the temporary glow of being his.

a finger traces along the cum on your stomach, haechan transfixed by the sight. curious, your hands grab for the small mirror on his bedside table, and he comes out of his daze, handing it to you wordlessly.

in the moonlight, the marks he's made on your skin blur with the shadows. no part of you looks untouched — your tear-streaked face and kiss-swollen lips, bruises on your hips and the sting of the bite mark on your shoulder. your hands tremble a little as you focus the mirror on where his fingers play with his drying cum on your skin, tracing lines and curves.

"'m yours," you mumble out.

"yeah?" he chokes. "mine?"

dazedly, you point to your neck. "yours."

he groans, just watching you, eyes roving over your body. "you're beautiful," he whispers. you think he means it.

"more." your voice is quiet.

"no more, baby," he murmurs, looking up at you with concern. "it's too much for you."

you shake your head. "these could be from anyone," you point at the marks on your neck. his body tenses, hands stiff on your skin. "i want to be yours."

slowly, your words settle over him. he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the kind you see right before he strikes his first chord, the moment his eyes find yours in the crowd. a dark sort of determination, in the way his holds your gaze.

he reaches over, and opens a drawer. you can hear the sound of things knocking around inside as he roots his hand around, finally emerging with an eyeliner pen. through the mirror, you can see his hands splayed out over the space just under your breasts, pulling the skin over your ribcage taut. his tongue pokes out into the lower corner of his mouth as he places the tip of the pen to your skin.

he loops once. skids the pen downwards. jerks it up harshly, ending off with jagged motions, each brush trailing ink on your skin.

when he's done he leans backwards, raising his eyebrows, asking you wordlessly if this was finally enough. his signature on your body, next to the bruises and marks and last remnants of his cum on your skin.

—

"haechan?"

he doesn't respond, but a part of you expects it already – you've memorized the way he leaves.

"why didn't you fuck that girl tonight?"

he takes his time, taking a long sip from his bottle of wine. from where you lie on the bed, you can just see the broad frame of his back, his side profile as he looks out of the window and at the moon, bright in the sky, the milky glow illuminating his skin. without his makeup, he looked like just a boy – pretty features almost dainty on his face. it's his hands which break the facade, calloused and rough, with veins that make your head spin when you think about them for too long, holding the bottle up to his lips.

"didn't feel like it."

you think about his answer, blinking slowly from the sleepiness. "why did you fuck me?"

he faces forward, away from you. "felt like it."

"why?"

"i'm beginning to question that too," he replies, bluntly.

hurt aches in your bones, as silence rings loud in your ears. "if you don't want me here i can just go," you say, softly, and you're sure your voice sounds as wounded as you feel. "you've cleaned me up. i can leave if you want."

you can see him stiffen, his shoulders tensing up.

"where's jaemin?"

of course. sitting up, you wince at the ache between your legs. "he's probably asleep," you answer, bitterly. "but i can just call a cab –"

his back muscles tense, and then he's shifting from where he sits on the edge of the bed. sliding into the space next to you, he rests back against the headboard, legs stretched out over the sheets. a hand wraps around yours.

"ask me easier questions," he mumbles, turning your palm over so he can lace your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

your breath stutters.

"what did you talk about? with the band?"

after cleaning you up and tucking you into bed, haechan had finally stalked out of the bedroom to talk to mark, jisung and jeno. he hadn't said a thing when he returned, holding a bottle of wine, placing it on the bedside table before stepping into the bathroom wordlessly to remove his makeup.

haechan blinks down slowly at your intertwined hands. "they asked me what was going on."

"what?"

"i've been losing focus," he mumbles. "during shows and during rehearsal. and jeno noticed i kept ditching girls at parties, said it wasn't like me to not be fucking around at all."

a beat.

you bite your lip. "you're…you're losing focus?"

but he just shakes his head. "they're wrong."

you can see that the topic is upsetting him, so you rush to ask another question. "do you write any of the songs that the band play?"

he raises his eyebrows. "so you care so much about the band now? does that mean you're a fan?"

he ignores your mumbled excuse, squeezing your hand again to let you know he was teasing. "mark usually writes the songs," he answers. "i don't have much to write about." and then, with a little more force, "ask me questions about me, not the band."

"what does this tattoo mean?" you place the tip of your finger just below his ribcage, where there's a small doodle of a bear paw.

"people say i look like a bear," he mumbles, a little shy. even in the moonlight, his pouty lips and round cheeks are evident, his shoulders broad as he slumps against the headboard.

"i see it," you confirm, and a smile flickers on his face.

"yeah?" he looks over at you, and his free arm loops around your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. his affection buzzes in your veins, as you try to divert his attention with another question.

"and what does this tattoo mean?" your other hand comes up again, now to trace at the sunflower peeking out from the base of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder.

he takes a deep breath. "my sister picked it."

"sister?"

"baby sister," he adds, softly. "she just turned six. this is her favorite flower."

"oh."

"why?" he tilts his head, bumping your own gently. "do i not seem like an older brother?"

"i think…" you hum, contemplating. "not when you're onstage," you decide.

"do you think i'm different? from when i'm onstage?"

"i don't know you enough to judge," you say, truthfully. aside from the sex, and from the brief moments right after when it felt like he was truly there, holding you, the haechan you knew was mostly the one flooded with stage lights, the kind of boy you had to beg to earn his attention.

haechan goes quiet, his hand on yours stilling, and you turn to look at him. tension is filling up the room, slow and thick like a fog, and you can't breathe against the weight of everything — the weight of his gaze, the almost boyish way his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to meet yours.

"do you want to?"

you bite your lip.

maybe two weeks ago your heart would have leapt, maybe you would have begged for the opportunity to have him closer.

but your body has already had time to learn disappointment, to defend yourself against his callousness and his cold, learning the art of slipping in and out of intimacies. every line crossed, every boundary blurred.

"do i want to?" you echo, and you see him falter.

maybe his own words held more weight than he'd anticipated.

"you don't?"

or maybe he was just scared to hear your answer.

"will you let me?" you reflect the question back to him. his fingers twitch against your shoulder where he's still holding you.

there were some nights where it felt as if he was taking his adrenaline out on your body, or where he was making you forget the fear of being caught by overriding your senses with pleasure. there were others when you fell so deep into a headspace, that he would care for you gently, something romantic and tender in the negative space between your bodies.

and ultimately all of these nights ended the same – the same curl of his lip, his face closed-off, his voice too steady and unfeeling.

"how would you let me know you?" it's only when he flinches when you catch the harshness to your tone, your own words leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. "by barely letting things slip every night?"

"y/n…" it's not meant as a warning. your name is spoken softly, with an ache in it that makes goosebumps rise up your arms. "i thought you were fine."

"i am," you insist, feeling defensive. "i'm fine with you pretending you don't know me, or when you disappear on the drive home."

"y/n, –"

"just…don't say things if you don't mean them," you finish, mumbling your words to mute the hurt in them.

there's a long silence.

and then, his voice, so delicate and fragile, like he was afraid his words would bruise the space between him and you.

"we're playing at a bar this friday."

you make a sound of confusion, and he continues on. "it's only for a few fans who won some sort of a lucky draw. they get to talk to us and get autographs."

"i didn't enter," you cut in, but still he continues on, as if he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.

"i'm inviting you now. and….and afterwards i'll leave with you and we can go to my place." he swallows. "my real apartment. not this one i share with the band." he lets out a shaky breath. "i don't… i don't usually bring girls there, if you can't tell."

"but…" the wheels in your head are turning slowly, as you try to catch up with what he's saying. "but if i'm there… and it's such a small crowd…the band is going to see that i'm there.

"they will," he confirms quietly.

"they're going to know you invited me. because i'm not a fan."

his lips twitch. "but you like me, no?"

"i do," you concede, absentmindedly. "but i thought you said…the band…"

"i don't think i really care about that anymore." his thumb dips low, brushing over the space under your ribs where his name is temporarily tattooed against your skin. "i…" he hesitates, before his thumb swipes against your skin again, and he takes a deep breath. "i told them about you. just now."

you feel like you're falling – a sense of vertigo making your head spin.

"what did you say?"

"just that…there was a you," he finished, lamely. "that we see each other more, but it's nothing." his hand squeezes yours, a gentle pulse. "nothing yet, anyway."

"i'll take it," you murmur, holding his hand clasped in both of yours and kissing him lightly on his fingertips. his face crumples, his chest caving in on itself with the weight of the tenderness he feels for you in that moment, and he leans in, tilting his head, eyes fluttering closed.

he kisses you like it's a promise, close-lipped and earnest. it feels almost like the two of you are finally on even ground.

—

"what are you trying to do?"

you jump, as the light in the small kitchenette flicks on. dirty dishes pile up in the sink, mugs scattered over the countertop, and the boy leaning against the fridge focuses his gaze on you. his voice is gentle, a mellow sort of sweetness undercut by the deepness of his voice. not in the way jisung's was deep, but a bass to it that gave it authority, one that the boy seldom had to use.

"what do you mean?"

jeno tilts his head. "y/n, do you know why haechan likes to fuck girls after his shows?"

the sweetness on your tongue from haechan's kiss decays into bitterness.

jeno doesn't seem to care. "he gets high off the feeling of the crowd. it's something he doesn't want to let go of, so he finds someone who adores him and makes them prove it." his eyes bore into yours, unblinking. "he doesn't care who he's with, y/n. he just likes the way they sound, screaming his name."

"but why doesn't-" you choke. it feels almost like you're betraying him. "why doesn't he date?"

jeno raises his eyebrows, and you feel pathetic. it’s a long time before he finally answers.

"all the girls are only after the version of him onstage. it's him they like, and haechan's just extending the performance. would you want to date someone who only liked one side of you?"

"but i don't just like that side of haechan," you protest, weakly. even then, you don't know what other sides you're alluding to — was it his gentleness with you? how he always held you after? the one who let his baby sister pick his tattoos?

"y/n?"

a soft voice sounds out from the corridor leading off into the bedrooms. sleep-ridden syllables mumbling out into the still air, calling your name.

"where are you? is everything okay?"

jeno's looking at you with someone like pity in his eyes, the way your body turns towards his voice like an instinct. "haechan isn't even his real name, did you know that?"

he crosses over to you, and places his mug into the sink behind your back. "try not to get too loud," he murmurs. "we're all tired."

and as haechan pulls you into his warm embrace, palms wandering over your skin, you bite your tongue and keep as quiet as possible.

—

haechan's head snaps up as he sees the door swing open again and more girls wander into the bar. there are excited squeals and shouts as they spot the band, he can hear mark's warm laugh and see jisung's wave out of his peripheral vision. behind him, jeno's methodically checking on his drum kit, and haechan can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, as if he knew.

his eyes scan the crowd again, praying he was wrong. but deep down he knows he would recognise your voice anywhere, be able to spot your features even in total darkness.

and right now, you weren't there at all.

his body goes on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in as he plays the chords, does his solos, nods along to the music. the crowd is frenetic, watching the way his eyebrows are drawn together, tonguing at his cheek, his lips downturned — the anger tense in his body making them whisper to themselves, wondering why this was part of his performance today. he keeps his expression slack as he signs autographs, nodding curtly towards fans as they bid him goodbye timidly, intimidated by his stormy gaze.

he doesn't understand why it makes his insides twist, each time he searches the crowd and darts his eyes back to his guitar. maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing you front row at his shows. maybe that was all this was — and you were a bad habit he should have broken.

it's what he tells himself as he lets his hands brush against the girl's as she holds her poster out to him, smiling a close-lipped smile, eyes dragging up and down his body excitedly. he lets her think it's a part of the performance, as he rails her in the bathroom of the bar, his eyes squeezed shut as she moans his name into the sink, trying to ignore the way her body didn't react at all like yours did, that his hands couldn't find purchase on her skin at all, and her voice made him want to crawl out of his skin.

you were a bad habit he should break — at least that's what he tells himself to keep him sane.

-> part 2 here!

taglist: @neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @simpforarmihn @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @smwhrinthehaze (sorry there were q a few i couldn't tag!)

#haechan smut #haechan angst #haechan au #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct smut #nct angst #haechan scenario #nct 127 smut #nct 127 angst #fic: rockstar haechan #donghyuck smut

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yuujispinkhair · 8 months

Text

Heatwave

The hot weather triggers your heat unexpectedly, but your Alpha Sukuna takes good care of you.

Pairing: Alpha!Sukuna x Omega!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, omegaverse Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, omegaverse, going into heat, oral, breeding, knotting, praise, biting. Reader is contemplating getting pregnant in the future. Reader and Sukuna are mates. Reader is on birth control but still goes into heat. This is a modern AU. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Part two of my Heatwave Summer Series

It happens while you're at work. Suddenly, the air in your office feels too hot, almost suffocating. It's as if the heatwave that's holding the city in its chokehold those last few days is finally winning. But one look at the a/c tells you that it is still running at full power. You shouldn't feel so hot. Something is wrong. And it has nothing to do with the air conditioning in the SHRINE Group's fancy downtown office.

A strong wave of dizziness hits you, making you knock your coffee cup over, spilling its contents all over your desk. You curse and hastily get up to grab some paper tissues, only to clutch the desk tightly as a strong wave of nausea washes over you. You feel feverish, your pulse is fluttering. And then there is this throbbing. Your eyes widen.

You know these symptoms.

But it's not the right time! You cannot be in heat! Please, not now, not here at work!

Usually, your heat cycle is under control, and you can plan ahead, take your heat-leave from work, and get comfortable at home in your nest.

But an unexpected heat throws you into chaos. You cannot stay here! You need...

You are out the door in a heartbeat, swaying on unsteady feet but making your way hastily down the hallway towards the large door of the CEO's office, where he is.

Your husband, your mate, your Alpha.

Sukuna.

You are instinctively drawn to him, your mind and body screaming to see him and throw yourself into his strong arms and let him take care of you.

His assistant, Uraume, says something to you, but you cannot make sense of their words. All you know right now is that something is very wrong and that the only one who can make it right again is Sukuna. Before Uraume can stop you, you have already yanked open the door to the CEO's office.

Sukuna is sitting at his luxurious desk, looking as flawless as ever. The only sign that he acknowledges the unusual temperatures is that he has removed his suit jacket and is now in his dark red dress shirt, but his black tie is still perfectly in place.

You gulp when you see how the shirt accentuates his broad figure, hugging his buff muscles deliciously, showing how impressive he is. Not just any Alpha. Sukuna is THE Alpha in this city. Powerful, dominant, attractive, and intelligent. Deadly towards his rivals but caring towards you.

He sits in his leather chair as if it were his throne, oozing confidence and power. Tall and muscular, pink hair styled perfectly, combed back over his undercut, filigree black tattoos decorating his beautiful face enticingly.

His chin rests on the back of his left hand, next to the glittering wedding ring that shows he belongs to you.

His beautiful maroon eyes snap to the door, with a dangerous glint in them upon getting disturbed. But that expression melts into a soft one when Sukuna sees who entered his office. He smirks and raises one eyebrow.

"Oh, darling. Did you miss me?"

But his teasing manner gets replaced by a worried expression when he sees the feverish state you are in.

Sukuna is by your side only a second later, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you against his broad chest. He is always so protective of his mate. You snuggle against him gratefully, pushing your nose against your Alpha's shirt, inhaling his comforting scent as you cling to him.

Sukuna's face presses lightly against the side of your neck, sniffing you, too. His breath brushes over your skin, and suddenly, Sukuna tenses up against you. His arms tighten their hold around you, and a low growl escapes his lips,

"You are in heat."

Before you even know what's happening, Sukuna has already grabbed his suit jacket from his chair and holds it out for you,

"Put this on, sweetheart. Let's get you home."

He gently puts the jacket over your shoulders, wrapping you in his scent while leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your neck. You almost sob in relief.

Sukuna's right hand comes to rest on the small of your back, and he gently but firmly steers you towards the door. You pass his assistant's desk, who hurries to get up, but Sukuna makes them stop with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Uraume, I will be out of the office for the rest of the day. Probably tomorrow, too. Please re-schedule all my appointments."

He keeps you in front of him while you walk down the hallway towards the elevator. The strong Alpha protecting his mate. Shielding your back, pressing his tall and muscular body against you.

No one would be crazy enough to dare approach Sukuna's omega, yet he never lets his guard down when it comes to you. The thought makes your heart ache with how much you love him.

There are some curious glances coming from some of your coworkers that you pass in the hallway, but Sukuna growls at them in a deadly calm voice,

"Get back to work. If I catch anyone so much as breathing in her scent, you are fired."

Your heart and your pussy throb for him.

You make it to the elevator and down to the underground parking space, where Sukuna helps you gently into his car.

You sound a bit hysterical when you say,

"I... I don't understand what is going on, Kuna. It's much too soon for my heat to start. And it feels... it feels different. Stronger somehow. It doesn't feel right!"

But Sukuna's voice is calm, velvety like a warm caress, instantly soothing your nerves,

"I have heard of cases where a sudden climate change triggered a heat. Maybe the current heatwave is to blame for this. Don't worry, my love. I am going to look after you."

He smiles his most charming smile at you. His large hand cups your cheek and caresses it lovingly, soothing you and reassuring you that things will be okay.

You smile at him gratefully,

"Thank you, Kuna. But you have that important meeting with the Infinity Group in an hour. I feel bad that I am keeping you from work..."

Sukuna huffs and shakes his head,

"It doesn't matter, darling. Uraume can re-schedule it. You will always be more important to me than work or anything else. I am your Alpha and your mate. I provide for you. I take care of you at all times. And now, lean back and try to relax while I drive us home so I can take proper care of you."

His beautiful maroon eyes glitter as he brings your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it tenderly while he fixes you with a gaze that holds so much fierceness and intensity that it leaves no room for doubt.

This is a command from your Alpha, and you will obey.

His words make something primal in you come alive. A soft moan escapes your lips, and your legs press together automatically as the all-too-familiar throbbing in your core flares up at your Alpha's words.

Yes, you need him to take proper care of you. You need him to breed you, to stuff you full of his Alpha cock and his hot seed.

You whine as you feel your slick coating your pussy lips, drenching your panties and probably the fine leather seat beneath you, too.

But you manage a nod and let out a long breath as you lean back in your seat and snuggle even deeper into Sukuna's suit jacket, burying your nose in the collar of it and breathing in your Alpha's scent deeply while Sukuna turns up the a/c and backs out of the parking space.

The moment you step into your penthouse apartment, you feel relief wash over you. Yes, this feels right. This is where you are supposed to be today. Here in your home, in your nest, where everything is safe and smells like your mate.

You feel a sob finding its way out of your lips as you slump against the wall.

The cool air-conditioned air of the apartment should feel good on your skin. It should help you cool down again. But it doesn't. This form of heat cannot be tamed. You still need so much more.

Your legs press together involuntarily as you feel another violent throbbing between your thighs, even more intense than the last one. A deep craving so feral that it cannot be silenced. Your panties are wet with your slick. They stick to your swollen pussy uncomfortably.

Your body is preparing itself for your Alpha. Slicked-up cunt, wet and hot, ready to get mounted and stuffed full of a big knot and generous amounts of seed.

The thought alone is enough to make you tremble. You need your Alpha, your mate, your husband. You need Sukuna. You need his strong arms around you, need his soothing low voice, need the comfort of his buff body against you, his firm muscles under your hands, and the bliss of his knot deep inside your aching cunt.

You shudder with arousal when he steps up to you, caging you between his beefy body and the wall. His strong arms wrap around you, steadying you and enveloping you in your mate's familiar, intoxicating scent.

Sukuna smells of cherry blossoms and smoke and a warm, rich flavor that you associate with a deep red color, like love, passion, red wine and autumn leaves. Warm and sexy, comforting like home, and powerful like a wildfire burning down whole cities in its way.

He leans down to press his face against your neck, breathing you in deeply, finally allowing himself to let go now that you are in your shared home. A low growl escapes his mouth as his lips caress your skin.

"Fuck. Your scent drives me crazy. My sweet little omega needs me so bad."

You can only whine in response, helplessly getting swallowed by the primal instinct that always takes hold of you during your heat. You aren't in control anymore. From now on, it's raw instinct. The primal need to get bred.

Your hands cling to Sukuna's muscular back as you press yourself needily against your Alpha's tall, strong body. You can smell his need for you, the scent of his arousal so musky and thick and seductive that it makes your head spin. His hardness is pressing against you through his suit pants, cock already swelling for you, filling for his omega that needs to get mounted and stuffed full of a big Alpha cock.

It's how nature intended it. An omega in heat and a strong Alpha to take care of them.

And your Alpha is the strongest Alpha you ever encountered. Powerful and dominant like no other. So dedicated to providing for you, to take care of you.

Sukuna claims your lips with a heated and passionate kiss, pushing you against the wall, making you moan needily into his mouth as he licks into you with hungry, deep strokes of his tongue. But the kiss only lasts for a moment, and you whine at the loss of Sukuna's mouth on yours when he pulls away with one last open-mouthed flick of his tongue against yours.

You feel feverish with need as your Alpha drops to his knees in front of you. A sight that always leaves you breathless. To see this powerful man on his knees for you. On his knees for his mate, for his wife. He looks up at you with glimmering maroon eyes and that typical sexy smirk on his handsome face.

You exhale shakily, but it comes out as a growl as your instincts take over, your heat making you a victim of your body's most primal urge.

"A.. Alpha.. please...I need you...aah ah. Kuna..."

"I got you, darling. I'll take good care of you, my love."

Sukuna's voice is so low and sexy that it makes your pussy twitch with need, overflowing with your creamy slick. His large hands land on your thighs, steadying you, fixing you to the wall, strong fingers that leave bruises on their way, but it's what you need in those moments. Getting marked and claimed by your Alpha.

You shudder under his touch, your body instantly reacting to your Alpha's loving hands. A thin rivulet of slick is slowly running down your left thigh, feeling cold on your heated skin when the air-conditioned air lands on it.

But the chilly feeling gets replaced by the velvety warmth of Sukuna's tongue. He growls in the back of his throat while he catches your creamy slick with his tongue, slowly following the trail up your thigh, licking it off your skin, making you moan and tremble, almost coming undone.

Your hands reach out blindly to tangle in Sukuna's soft pink hair, tugging desperately on it, pulling him needily to where you need him the most. To that throbbing wild ache between your legs. But Sukuna is already one step ahead of you. His large, strong hands run up your thigh, slipping under your skirt and pushing it up to reveal your soaked-through panties to his intense gaze.

You whimper when you see the hunger in your Alpha's eyes. He desires you just as much as you desire him.

A second later, Sukuna's beautiful face is pressed against your drenched lace panties, his soft lips attached to your puffy clit, sucking it through the thin fabric. Your hips buck and a feral-sounding cry falls from your lips as your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud.

You push your wet heat needily against Sukuna's face, tugging on his hair, moaning his name so loud and desperately that you would be ashamed under other circumstances. But today, your most primal instincts have taken hold of you, and you cannot be bothered to care about how horny you sound.

A tearing sound is heard. Sukuna ripped your panties off you, exposing your soaked, puffy cunt to his hungry eyes, making both of you growl, filling the penthouse with your mating calls.

Sukuna pushes his nose between your pussy lips, making it rub over your sensitive, swollen clit, drawing another loud, needy moan from your lips.

You are hypnotized by the sight of your Alpha rubbing his pretty face against your pussy, smearing your cream over his gorgeous features, and watching you while he does so with desire and love clearly visible in his maroon eyes.

It's so messy. You are so messy, pussy overflowing with slick, clearly in a full-blown heat, luring your Alpha in with your scent, demanding his seed, his knot, his pups. It's pure primal need at this point. A state that leaves you a horny, needy mess every time.

Sukuna buries his face between your spread legs, growling lowly. Your head spins when you see him take a deep breath, inhaling your scent hungrily.

"You smell so good, darling. I'm going to breed you all night."

His voice is low, dripping with sex and arousal and dominance. His tongue flicks over your wet clit, making your legs give away. But Sukuna's hands hold you in their firm grip, pushing you against the wall and fixing you there as his tongue moves through your slicked-up folds, tasting you, drinking you. He pushes his long, hot tongue into you, eliciting a cry from you as your eager pussy twitches wildly around his muscle.

But it's not enough to satisfy the craving you feel. You need his cock. You need his hot seed filling you until you are so full of it that you are overflowing.

Your Alpha knows this, of course. Before you can beg him for more, Sukuna is already back on his feet again, towering over you so tall and big, growling in the back of his throat as he looks at you with a fire in his eyes and a massive bulge in his black slacks.

He swoops you up into his buff arms, making you whimper with need. You can't help but feel your pulse flutter at how small you feel in the arms of this huge Alpha. He is such a beast, so strong, so big. And he is so dedicated to fuck you right. To fuck your heat away.

"I'll take care of you, my sweet little omega-wife. Your Alpha's gonna take good care of you."

You nod feverishly, feeling the sweat run down your back and more slick coating your swollen pussy lips as Sukuna carries you princess style to the bedroom, one large hand slipping between your legs to play with your pussy, caressing it tenderly, fucking you slowly with this thick thumb, taking care of you until you can get his big Alpha cock to satisfy your need.

Your hands run over his muscular chest, needily clawing at his clothes in your desperation to feel your Alpha's skin on yours.

He smiles when he places you carefully on the King-sized bed. It is a display of power, proving just how powerful of an Alpha Sukuna is that he is able to stay in control even when his omega is in heat and exuding pheromones that make Sukuna's cock throb.

His touch is firm and sure when he undresses you, removing your clothes until you are completely naked, every inch of your skin brimming with need and lust, your needy cunt oozing slick onto the silk bedding, begging to get touched by your Alpha.

You feel feverish as you watch your husband get undressed, taking off his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing more and more of his tattoed skin and firm muscles.

He pushes down his slacks and black boxer briefs to reveal his Alpha cock to your hungry gaze, resting thick and strong against his taut abs. A fat vein is pulsating gorgeously on the underside, and two black rings are tattoed around the thick base to show Sukuna's status as a powerful Alpha. His cock stands rock-hard, leaking milky pre-cum. His balls are taut and round, heavy with his precious seed that contains the antidote to your ache.

A desperate sob escapes your lips. Your chest heaves with your excited breaths, almost hyperventilating in your need for Sukuna.

Your legs are already spread, and you pull them to your chest, instinctively presenting yourself to the powerful Alpha in front of you, presenting him your breedable cunt, wet and needy. Ready to get claimed by his fat cock.

Your breath hitches in your throat as Sukuna's glittering gaze lands on you, a smirk lifting the corners of his lips as he takes in your naked, willing body, so wild for him and his knot.

He slowly walks over to the bed, maroon eyes watching you hungrily. Like a predator stalking his prey, the big bad wolf who is about to take his victim. A very willing victim, though. His mate, with a scar in the shape of his canines on your neck, with a wedding band on your ring finger, with a wet cunt that aches for his knot.

He is your man. Your Alpha. There could never be another for you. You are Sukuna's for life.

You submit to him eagerly when he crawls over you, naked and muscular, with his buff muscles and black tattoos fully on display for your love-drunk eyes. So big and strong on top of you. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your whole world.

He smiles at you while his maroon eyes glimmer with that fire they always get when he is about to mount you and fuck your heat away.

His lips catch yours in a deep kiss, tongue licking sensually into your mouth, making your pussy twitch and your hands run needily up and down his broad, muscular back. His thick mushroom tip drips his hot pre-cum onto your belly, making you hiss into the kiss with need.

Sukuna flicks his tongue against yours once more before he pulls away to grin at you,

"Turn around, darling. On your stomach, like a good girl. I want to breed you right. You need me extra deep in you today, don't you, omega?"

But your mind is too blurry to answer him. It doesn't matter, though, because Sukuna is there to take control. To take care of you. His large, strong hands are already grabbing your hips and flipping you over on your stomach, so dominant, so strong, but so gentle and loving at the same time.

You keen into the silk pillow underneath your face that smells of your Alpha, lifting your ass needily for him, offering yourself to him, begging to get mated and knotted.

You are in good hands with Sukuna. In the best hands. He is the most powerful Alpha of this city, or maybe even of this whole country. And he fucks you like the natural leader that he is.

He pushes your thighs apart, lowering his beefy body on top of you, pressing you down into the mattress, offering the comfort of his heavy weight on top of you.

He rolls his hips against you, making his thick, wet cockhead slap your puffy clit several times before it catches on your slicked-up hole, making you writhe beneath him in your horny need to get taken by your Alpha.

You cry loudly into the pillow when Sukuna snaps his hips and buries his fat cock deep inside your needy cunt with one powerful thrust.

You orgasm the moment he is sheaved fully inside you, pussy twitching needily around him, slick gushing over him, welcoming him with the first orgasm of many, milking his fat cock wildly, begging for his fertile seed to fill you. Begging him to fuck his pups into you.

Your hands claw helplessly at the silk pillow as you try to get more of your man, lifting your ass and pressing against him, moaning and crying, face wet with tears while you sob and whine for his cock and his seed and his knot.

"More...please...Alpha...more...oh god...Sukuna!!"

But your Alpha is there for you, soothing you. Dominant and strong. Sukuna leans down to kiss your neck, resting even more of his weight on you. One of his large hands captures both your wrists in his firm grip and fixes them above your head, restraining you effortlessly, stopping your desperate movements.

You sob in relief, feeling so taken care of with your Alpha's buff body on top of you, restraining you, anchoring you on his cock.

The headboard of your bed thumps rhythmically against the wall as Sukuna fucks you into the mattress with deep, hard strokes of his big Alpha cock. He is so deep inside you, rutting into your needy, wet cunt with his powerful thrusts, mounting you hard and unrelentingly.

He knows exactly what his omega needs. Knows how to breed you the right way to fuck you through your heat.

His big Alpha cock makes you squeal and cry with lust as he fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you. Sukuna growls against your neck, low and sexy, making your head spin. He sounds so hot. So full of primal need, too.

Your cunt clenches greedily around his fat Alpha cock when you feel him cum for the first time, filling you with the first thick load of his hot seed. You're crying as you milk him eagerly, taking all his precious, fertile seed deep into you, your body so eager to carry his pups.

Sharp teeth graze over your skin, and then Sukuna bites your neck and marks you up again, right where he left his first mark on you when he mated you and made you his for life. His name falls from your lips in a needy moan.

Sukuna's hips move rhythmically, rutting into you with savage, deep thrusts. His cock is stroking all the right places inside you, and his heavy balls full of seed smack wetly against your pussy with every powerful thrust, loud and wet, spreading your slick everywhere. It's drooling out of your cunt and onto his balls, making a mess on his cock and the bed, getting fucked back into you with every hard snap of your Alpha's hips.

It drives you wild. You are lost in your heat, growling and whining for your strong Alpha to fuck all the madness away.

And Sukuna does just that. He always makes everything feel right again. He always takes all the chaos and turns it into something he has under control. So dominant, so strong. He is the master of your heat.

Sukuna fucks you for hours without any sign of weakness. His cock stays rock hard all the time, swollen and thick, so perfect for filling you and making you cum again and again until you are so exhausted that you tremble weakly under his muscular body. But you know you don't have to do anything. You have Sukuna to take care of you.

He gives you anything you need. His cock, his seed, his love.

His low, velvety voice is so sexy when he leans down to whisper in your ear while he humps your soaking wet pussy slowly,

"Yeah, like that, my sweet thing. Taking your Alpha's seed so well. You would carry my pups so well. You are such a good omega for me."

You whine loudly, trying to reply to him, but at this point, you are just a babbling mess, crying and sobbing, trying desperately to get even more of Sukuna, even though you are already stuffed to the hilt with his thick Alpha cock, your cunt overflowing with his hot cum.

But Sukuna knows what you need. Of course, he does. You don't have to tell him.

"Shhh. I know, sweetheart. I know. I got you. Relax, my love."

His voice is soothing, full of dominance and love, and you feel his soft, warm lips caress your neck tenderly right over your mating mark before they press a lingering kiss to it.

"I'll give you my knot. I'll give you all of me."

He bucks his hips, pushing his thick cock as deep into your slick cunt as possible, stuffing you with it, and pressing you down into the bed with his weight. And then you feel it. The stretch.

The swelling at the base of Sukuna's cock is growing steadily, stretching your pussy around his growing knot. He is so huge, so powerful, the Alpha of all Alphas, and that shows in his size.

You always struggle to take all of him, to take his massive knot. But you crave it tonight. You need it desperately. You need to be claimed fully by your Alpha. You need to be plugged with Sukuna's fat knot for hours, keeping all his hot seed inside your aching omega cunt that's begging for his pups.

Sukuna trails kisses over your neck, soothing you, helping you relax. He lets go of your wrists, so he can massage your puffy clit, helping you become loose for his huge knot.

"It's ok, my love. Just let go. I'm gonna knot you so good."

You whine, eyes rolling back in bliss when you feel his fat knot swell even more, filling you so completely. You're his. You're Sukuna's. You aren't going anywhere. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't run from him. He has you on his knot, and your whole body is covered by his buff, muscular body. It's perfect. It makes you feel so taken care of. So loved.

Sukuna groans, moaning your name softly, praising you for being such a good omega for him and letting him knot you. His large hands come up to cover the backs of your much smaller hands, interlacing his fingers with yours.

Hot tears of bliss run down your cheeks and into the silk pillow beneath you. You are surrounded by Sukuna. He is your whole world. He is all you know in those frantic moments of primal fucking. His big muscular body feels so perfect on top of you, his fat knot plugging your twitching cunt, keeping all his warm seed deep inside your aching cunt. His enticing, musky Alpha scent is everywhere, filling your nostrils, making your head spin from the love you feel for him.

This is the closest you can be to someone. Knotted by your Alpha. Completely giving yourself to him, submitting to him entirely, trusting him with everything. You sob Sukuna's name, your voice so full of love and devotion, mumbling incoherently as your head spins and your pussy throbs around his huge, swollen knot.

And he humps you slowly, as much as his fat knot allows. Slow, gentle thrusts that make his swollen cockhead rub your sweet spot, fucking you into a state of complete bliss. He growls praise into your ear every time you orgasm on his knot, telling you how good you are for him.

This is where you want to stay forever. Here in your bed, in your nest, where Sukuna mates you, fucks you, claims you over and over again. Where he cums in you over and over again, filling you with rope after rope of his hot seed while he growls your name and groans in your ear.

Your orgasms become more gentle with time, building up slowly only to make you cry in relief when they wash over you, so good, so intense that you feel like you are floating. You shudder around your Alpha's cock, whining his name and milking him with your convulsing pussy, taking all his thick loads of Alpha seed into your needy cunt.

It's dark by now. Only the moonlight and the city lights outside your window illuminate the bedroom, but you and Sukuna remain in your mating position. His thick Alpha cock and knot stuffing your omega cunt, your bodies pressing tightly against each other. Your movements grow slower, and loud growls and cries of pleasure turn into soft moans and whispered words of love. After a while, Sukuna rolls the two of you onto the side, pulling the blanket over you, getting more comfortable. But he keeps you on his cock and his knot all the time.

You sigh dreamily as Sukuna wraps you in his muscular arms, holding you tightly, kissing your neck while whispering the sweetest things to you. He is so good to you, so loving and sweet. Mating you, anchoring you, satisfying you for as long as you need.

You smile, almost delirious with happiness and love, feeling so full and taken care of.

"This is perfect. Please stay like this, Kuna. Don't go, please."

He laughs softly, sounding warm and full of love.

"I'm not going anywhere, my love. I am not leaving when my darling needs me so bad. I have all day and night to knot you and fill you with my seed. I love you, baby."

He cups your chin with one of his large hands and tilts your head back to capture your lips in a deep, hungry kiss while his Alpha cock pulses another load of hot cum into you. Sukuna's lips are soft against yours, his tongue stroking yours tenderly. Deep, passionate kisses that grow calmer eventually, turning into slow, sensual caresses.

You stay like that the whole night.

Sukuna lets you have his knot for hours. The sun is already rising again over the city, bathing the skyscrapers in its warm golden light, when the swell of Sukuna's knot slowly starts to subside.

He finally slips out of you, but not without kissing you tenderly, making sure you know he is still there for you. He's such a caring mate. Such a good Alpha.

You smile at Sukuna when he gets up from the bed. His warm maroon gaze meets yours, and he grins at you, making you marvel at how beautiful he is, with his buff muscles and filigree tattoos, with the soft expression on his gorgeous face, his half-hard cock still glistening from your slick and his seed while the sun rises behind him outside the floor to ceiling windows of your penthouse.

Sukuna picks up the shirt he abandoned on the floor yesterday and hands it to you.

"Here, sweetheart, something for your nest. Get cozy while I get breakfast for you."

You sigh happily as you snuggle into your bed, holding Sukuna's shirt tightly and inhaling his comforting scent. You feel so content, so calm, and so loved. Wrapped in your Alpha's scent, filled with his cum, and marked by his teeth. Just like it should be.

A wave of gratefulness washes over you. You are so lucky to have Sukuna as your mate, as your Alpha. He is so strong and caring, always loving and breeding you right.

You are on birth control, so his seed won't take. But you catch yourself thinking that maybe one day, you will have Sukuna's pups. Maybe soon, it'll be time to give this world a few more strong Alphas like him.

AAAAHHH ALPHA SUKUNA DRIVES ME FERAL 💗😭 This story became much longer than intended. But I cannot be blamed. I am just a little omega, and naturally, Alpha Sukuna makes me lose control A LOT lmaooo.

I hope you enjoyed this story and that Alpha Sukuna could comfort you with his dominant and caring nature ;)

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #jjk x reader #jjk smut #tw omegaverse

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