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neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

DRIPPIN'

pairing: boyfriend!haechan x inexperienced!fem!reader x haechan’s best friends!mark, jeno, jaemin

genre: smut, pwp, non-idol au, established relationship (with haechan) | requested

summary: you need relief from this strange pain you’re feeling, but you don’t know what to do. Your boyfriend and his friends offer to help, giving you a solution you didn’t quite expect coming.

warnings: smut, fivesome (here we go again lmao), unprotected sex, dubcon bc of corruption kink and innocence kink, minor (unconscious) exhibitionism, voyeurism, thighs riding, fingering, (at first) non-con (then) consensual filming but with a bit of manipulation so dubcon filming, oral sex (m and f), loss of virginity, pet names, praise kink, nipple sucking, spanking, anal (f), c*m play (like a lot), dacryphilia, double penetration, minor pain kink, subspace, too many orgasms, overstimulation, jaemin is nasty, jeno bites, mark and haechan seem normal but they aren’t either | if i missed something lmk

word count: 18.211k (of smut, nothing else, just smut)

a/n: big sigh, this was a challenge on so many levels, from the innocence kink to the fact that it’s my first (and probably last lmao) long-length fic written in second person and present tense. It probably takes more to flow compared to my usual stuff because I didn’t want it to be too overwhelming at the start (wanted to keep as consensual as possible) but I hope when it kicks in, it flows well. I also hope it’s what the person that requested wanted. I know I say it every time, but I seriously think this is the filthiest thing I ever wrote. Please, please, let me know what you think about it, especially if you read my old stuff because this is such a new thing for me and it would mean a lot to know if it’s as good as the rest or if should stick to the old way. Enjoy!!♡

You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel a weird sensation in your body. It’s... funny, that’s how you would describe it, apart from feeling hotter, and more sensitive at the slightest touch.

You don’t think you’re sick or something, it’s not the first time that this happened and it’s not painful, just annoying. And the worst of it all is that you don’t know how to take care of it.

An irrational part of you is telling you to talk to your boyfriend, Haechan. But another feels that it’s wrong. It’s like a prude part of your brain is screaming to keep it to yourself.

And yes, it had happened before but it never felt like this, it never lasted this long. It had been two days that you feel... You feel... Needy? Clingy? Whiny?

It feels pathetic, and you only hope that whatever it is, it will pass fast.

“Oh,” you exclaim when you enter the living room and see your boyfriend’s best friends sit on one of the two couches. “I didn’t know you were coming.” You walk toward them and see their eyes linger on you longer than usual. “Oh, I was going to bed. That’s why the pj’s,” you chuckle, totally not getting that their gazes weren’t judging ones but horny, something you couldn’t know. You couldn’t even get it when your boyfriend looked at you like this, so how could you do it with his friends?

“Babe.” Haechan’s voice makes you turn around and smile at him softly. “My bad, it was kinda a last-minute thing.”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, shivering when his hand rests on your middle and rubs circles against the thin fabric of your camisole. Your eyes trail there, feeling your skin burn and you start to wonder if maybe you have a fever or something. “Beer and game night?” You force yourself to bring your attention back to them, smiling at the other three men as if nothing is going on.

“Actually, no alcohol, we have to drive home,” Mark replies, gulping after he drifts his eyes away from your hard nipples. You’re not wearing a bra and they are rock hard under the thin layer covering your beautiful body and he knows is not due to the cold because the temperature in the room is normal. It even starts feeling hot the more he looks at you.

“Well, have fun then,” you say, eyes wrinkling as you beam at them. “I’ll just go back to our bedroom —”

“No, come on, babe,” Haechan says, pulling you close to him. “Stay with us. You wanted cuddles before, didn’t you?" He coos, making you lower your head to hide how flustered you look. Yes, you did ask for it, hoping it would ease some of your pain, but it’s so embarrassing in front of his friends.

“It’s because I had a rough week,” you justify to them. You always fear what you look like in their eyes. You have a feeling that they don’t even like you that much because you are quite different from Haechan’s exes or the girls they surround themselves with. You kind of envy them for being so confident and not so affectionate. Thinking the way you act makes you look dumb in their eyes.

“It’s fine, no judgment here,” Jeno reassures, winking at you... And why do you find that attractive?

You mentally slap yourself before letting Haechan drag you on his lap. One of your favorite cuddling positions; facing him, resting your head on his shoulder, and enjoying his hands rubbing your back. You’d like to listen to their talks, or discussions on what game they want to play or if it was better to watch a movie, but your mind is somewhere else.

You feel off and euphoric at the same time, mind dizzy, disconnected from your rational part, guiding your body without you even knowing. You blame it on the way Haechan is touching you, smooth hands pressing harder than usual on your skin, and occasionally going lower on your half-exposed ass. You don’t think much about it, too lost in the sensation, and almost sleepy while your left cheek rests against his shoulder.

You don’t know that on the other side of the room, your boyfriend’s best friends’ eyes are boring holes into you, trying to play it cool, to don’t get caught by him while they stare at your skin, and think of how soft and pretty —and spankable— your ass looks as it starts grinding against him, trying not to drool like horny dogs.

“Hyuck,” you whine when you feel your body get hotter. “I think I have a fever.”

Your boyfriend hums, bringing his attention to you that are now looking at him after pulling away from his body.

“A fever?” He asks, raising a hand to touch your forehead. “Babe, you’re fine.”

You want to retort and say that you don’t feel fine, but you guess he wants to spend some time with his friends and you’re already getting too much in the way. Maybe you should just go to your bedroom and sleep, it was going to pass, it had to pass.

So you clear your throat and move away from Haechan. “I’m going to sleep,” you say, waving at his friends before leaning in to kiss him, shorts rising up more, giving a perfect view of your asscheeks. And the other three have to suppress a groan and look away.

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend checks in again, fingers grazing the back of your hand in gentle circles.

“Yeah, I don’t feel,” you stop, not wanting to worry him. “I don’t feel like staying up.”

“Kay, goodnight, babe,” he greets back, smiling at you, watching you disappear into the bedroom.

You think it will pass. You hope it will. After minutes that feel like hours, you start to pray it will go away. But the more you try to fight it, the strongest it gets. You feel it between your legs, but the more you squeeze them, the more it grows. The more you rub it away the worst it gets.

So you huff loudly, move the blankets off your body and go out again.

“Oh, you’re still here,” you gasp when you see that his friends are still at home. And you don’t know what to do anymore. You really don’t want to ruin his fun, but you feel like you’re going insane and you don’t why you can’t control it. All the other times it went and passed but now it’s like your senses are enhanced.

“Are you okay?” Haechan’s voice is worried, and he’s looking at you with apprehension.

“’M fine,” you mumble, running to him, playing nervously with the hem of your camisole.

“Want some water?” Jaemin asks, seeing how flustered you look and you nod, small steps to walk to him and grab the glass he’s offering you.

“Slow, honey,” he chuckles when you gulp it eagerly and a droplet of water drips down your chin to your chest, making you whimper at the contrast between the cold water and your burning skin. “Don’t be messy,” he whispers, licking his lips, eyes telling you to do the exact opposite because he’s loving this shaken side of you.

“Thanks,” you breathe, handing him the empty glass and drying your lips with your thumb. You see Jeno shift in his place and growl lowly but you don’t think on it for long. And in a second you’re turned back to your boyfriend. You’re so close to them that Mark is really tempted to pull you on his lap and fuck you. But you slip out of their hold, running to your boyfriend before his fucked up thoughts can come to life.

“Can’t sleep, can I sit on your lap?”

Haechan hums, spreading his legs to make space for you, expecting you to give him his back but you sit just like you were before. And when you moan when your lower part brush against his body, he gets what’s going on.

It had been days since you were needier than usual, oversensitive in a way you usually aren’t. He’s the perverted one that always touches you and teases you, making you shy while you push him away because it feels wrong. He’s the one that makes jokes you don’t get, only widening your eyes and mouth when you realize he’s hinting at something he shouldn’t be talking about so freely and casually.

But you, God, you are the sweetest, most innocent person he has ever met, and it drives him crazy. He knows it’s wrong, that he shouldn’t fantasize about ruining you, dragging every single piece of innocence and naivety from your brain and turning you into his nasty, horny girl, but he can’t help it. He wants you to be addicted to his lips, his fingers, his cock, every part of him.

But, as much as he’d like to ruin you, he promised himself he was going to wait for you, wait till a small part of your prude shield falls apart and lets him in, and now, you are serving it on a silver plate.

He tries to keep his attention on his friends, nodding at whatever Mark is saying and grinning when Jaemin argues back. But then you start rocking your hips on him and all his sanity is gone.

What the fuck are you doing? And in front of his friends?

He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t get a boner for the fact that you’re so turned on that you’re trying to get off in front of everybody without even knowing.

It’s wrong. So wrong.

But he forgot the line between wrong and right a long time ago when it comes to you.

So he grips your hips tighter and for some unknown reason, that gets you even more.

You bite your lips and press more against him, feeling… something hard?

You blink hazily, sitting straight to face him with a confused expression but your hips are still grinding against him, slower than before, but the movement is perceptible enough to drag other three pairs of eyes there.

“Hyuck…?” You ask, voice barely higher than a whisper and hands wrapped around his shoulders when you feel it move. “What — what is that?”

“What, baby?” He fakes innocence, wanting you to break it, to slip into that world you kept your distance from for so long.

“Why… why is it hard? Is it you? Or is it the remote?”

You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, guessing it comes from Jaemin, and you’re about to turn around when Haechan cups your face and makes you turn to him. His hold is slightly rougher than his usual touch but you don’t mind, it surprises you, but it doesn’t scare you.

“It’s me, baby,” he coos, smiling. You raise a brow when you see his lips curl in a smirk, a cocky grin that usually paints his face when he wants to prove something, or when he wins, whether it’s a game or an argument. So you don’t truly get why he has it on his face now. You don’t get that you are the game he wants to win.

You don’t expect him to kiss you, hard and intensively, wrapping one hand behind your neck and pushing your waist toward him with the other. You expect even less to don’t pull away, and so do the others that are looking at the scene. You are the shy one that pulls away at the slightest peck on the cheek in front of his friends so what has taken over you now?

They don’t know. And they know they shouldn’t care but the thoughts that have been crossing their minds for half of the night were already so fucked up that they surely weren’t going to stop now. You teased them without even knowing. You teased them in front of your boyfriend. And fuck, that was fucked up, but they had no intention to stop. In the end, it was going to be a silly fantasy they were taking home, slumping on their beds alone and jacking off thinking of you in those skimpy pink clothes, making sure Haechan wasn’t going to ever find out about it and then act like usual in front of you.

“Hyuck,” you moan his name when he pulls back from the kiss, and his hardness rubs against you. “Wait,” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. “I — I feel weird. It — it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts, baby?” He purrs, stopping his movement, smiling when you nod.

“It’s been hurting all day, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Where does it hurt, pretty?” He asks and your hands trail down your body, shyly touching your core. “Here.”

Haechan kisses your pout away before his fingers replace yours and he pushes against your sensitive clit. You moan, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Yeah, there,” you cry. “Hurt so much, Hyuck. I don’t know how to make it go away.”

“Want me to make it go away?” He asks, hand cupping your ass and squeezing tight.

Jeno’s eyes go wide as he stares at you in utter shock. “Wait… are you doing this now? In front of us?” He chuckles to water down the awkwardness and the excitement and you turn around confused.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, big sorry eyes locking into his, dark and intense, staring right into you. He makes you shiver as you fear he’s mad at you for ruining their night, so you justify yourself again, “I’ve been holding it all night, but I can’t keep it anymore. I don’t want to ruin your fun, I swear I tried to make it stop but I won’t, it won —”

“Shh,” your boyfriend shushes you with a kiss. Eyeing the other three that are starting with their mouths open.

You truly don’t know anything.

“It’s fine, you didn’t ruin our night,” he whispers, caressing your hip. “We’ll help you.”

“We?” Mark’s voice comes out strangled and even if you can’t see him, you know his eyes are wide open.

Your boyfriend chuckles, smiling at his friends before he grins at you. “She looks really in pain. I’m sure she needs all the help we can give her.”

“Haechan, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jeno replies, a nervous edge in his voice.

“They — they don’t want to, it’s fine,” you say, voice huffing when his thigh flexes under your hot core. “If you tell me how, I can, I can take care of this alone.”

Haechan thinks you’re so cute, so close at your breaking point and yet still trying to keep it together. “No, honey, you can’t. I’ll help you.”

“But they —”

“If they don’t want to participate, it’s fine. But I’m sure they won’t mind watching. But they can always leave.”

At this point you don’t care, so you hum and wait for his next move.

“Did it feel better when you grind on me?”

“When I did this?” You ask, starting to rock your hips back and forth, hearing a groan come from behind you, but not being able to make out which one of the three is.

“Yes,” Haechan replies, voice coming out raspy and lower than normal.

“Am I hurting you?” The innocence in your voice and your eyes and in the way your hands are caressing his shoulders so delicately makes him groan and curse internally as he’d only wish to turn you over and fuck you deep and hard into the couch, not caring much if you can take it that hard or not. But he doesn’t, he has been patient for months, he can wait some minutes.

“No,” he replies through gritted teeth and that makes you stop, tilting your head to the side as you study his contracted features.

“Are you sure? Why are you groaning?”

“It feels good, babe. It feels so fucking good.” He grins when your eyes shy away at the vulgar word. He was used to holding back in front of you, knowing you weren’t really fond of swearing, but tonight he is going to have so much fun. “Do you feel good?”

You nod swiftly. Feeling a warm sensation spread in your body the more you move against him. And you feel… wet? You want to ask what it is but it’s like the words can’t form in your brain. Not only you don’t feel pain anymore, but you feel good. Better than ever before. And you feel… high. It’s almost as if your body is running after something bigger, stronger, and more intense.

“Hyuck,” you call out crying when you feel your stomach twist and your pussy clench before a rush invades your body and makes your body tremble against him before you still, nails digging into his covered shoulders and jaw clenching. You stay like that for a while, chest panting and head thrown back while your eyes are closed and you try to understand why you felt so many emotions there. You know body parts, you know what it was meant for, but you never thought it could feel good. And why? You aren’t going to have babies, right? The doubt slips into the back of your mind, though.

“Feel better?” Haechan asks and you’re brought back to earth.

You bite your lips, feeling shy when your body screams at you that it’s not enough.

“A bit,” you reply lowly, looking down at his lap, seeing how hard he is.

He snorts and then looks at the other three rolling his eyes. They swiftly look around the room, covering their boners the best they can. “Fucking fake prigs I can see your cocks twitch from here,” he mocks, making their eyes snap on him. “So, what are you going to do? Sit there and watch? Leave? Or do you wanna share and fuck around?”

“What?” You ask, not understanding what he means by that. But he ignores you, too busy staring at his friends, waiting for an answer as his feet tap on the floor.

“Fuck it.” The first one to stand up is Jaemin, reaching you in a few seconds with big steps. If Haechan was willing to share you, he wasn’t going to say no. Virgin and inexperienced, it surely couldn’t have been worse than his hands and his memory of you.

“Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it,” you mumble when you feel Jaemin’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you away from your boyfriend.

“You’re in pain, aren’t you?” He asks, tone gentle, a sweet and reassuring smile on his face. You’re so lost in how kind he looks your brain almost stops panicking and you only nod. Well, now you feel better, or that was what you thought, but it seems like the tingly sensation it’s creeping up your bones again. “We just want to help you feel good. Do you trust us?”

You gulp when he sits you on the couch next to Haechan and when your eyes drift off him, you see Jeno and Mark stand over you too.

You’re confused. A part of your brain is telling you that you should also probably be scared of what’s about to come but you pay it no mind. You’re burning up. You need something but you don’t know what it is. So how bad can it be that they are helping you with that? Also, you trust Haechan, he would never let them do something you don’t want.

“Will I feel better?” You ask, looking at Haechan that is already smiling at you.

“Like you never felt before,” he replies, caressing your cheek with two fingers, shivers running down your spine because it’s like you sense a shift in him —and everybody in the room.

“O-okay,” your voice is low, but your body relaxes under his soft touch on your exposed thigh. You don’t expect him to kneel between your legs and part them open. You wait for the next move in silence and see their hungry eyes staring at you.

You look so pure; pastel pink shorts wrapping around your soft thighs, the top laying softly on your upper body, flustered expression, eyes filled with curiosity, apprehension and lust. And when Haechan pulls them down, he reveals white panties, stained with wetness, highlighting even more the outlines of your pussy.

There’s only one thought that crosses their minds.

They can’t wait to ruin you.

But you don’t see it, you’re still pretty unaware of what’s going to happen, how are they going to fix your aching pain between your legs. So that’s why you’re so shocked about what Haechan does next.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen and your legs clump together when he pushes your panties down your legs.

“Trying to make you feel better,” he smirks as if it’s obvious.

“You’re — you’re undressing me,” you mumble, feeling too ashamed to meet the others’ eyes, but you can still feel them on your skin. The air of the room seems so cold when it hits against your hot, wet skin and you feel so small and exposed because they are all standing around you, tall and broad, fully dressed and in control.

“If you want to feel good, we have to see you.” You’re waiting for Haechan to answer but the voice that fills the silence in the room is Jeno’s.

Your eyes skim to him, gulping when you meet his gaze. You feel like a prey. And he’s starving. They all are.

“But — but you’re not my boyfriends, isn’t this… wrong?” You ask, an instinct telling you that whatever is about to happen shouldn’t be happening like this, not with his friends. It should be only you and your boyfriend. Now you might be innocent but you know being naked is an intimate thing, you barely showed yourself to him after months of dating; the only time he got to see your naked form was after he spent hours convincing you to take a shower together and you gave him your back for half of the time.

“Is it wrong if it makes you feel good?” Mark asks, smiling at you.

You ponder on it. Will this make you feel good? You are sure it will, if it’s anything close to what you felt before it can’t be different, but you still feel like it shouldn’t happen.

“Let’s ask your body, babe,” Haechan brings your attention to him again, spreading your legs and planting your right foot on the couch seat so they can have a perfect view of your cunt.

You hide your face behind your hands, feeling too exposed, but Jaemin sits beside you and moves them away.

“Don’t hide, pretty,” he purrs, nose nuzzling against your cheek, making you chuckle lowly. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Fuck,” you hear Mark moan when Haechan spreads your pussy lips apart, cold air hitting your core, making you moan. “She’s dripping.”

You want to ask what he means by that, but your boyfriend’s fingers hitting a sensitive spot makes you quiver. Your head rolls back and your eyes fall shut.

You hear muffled chuckles, but you don’t pay them much attention.

“Look at him,” Jaemin whispers, encouraging you to keep your eyes open and stare right between your legs, you find it wrong and slightly humiliating, but you do as he says. He’s there to make you feel better, so he knows what he’s doing.

“What is this…” you whimper when Haechan’s fingers touch the substance that is dripping out of your pussy, smearing it around, sticky and cold, making you squirm at the weird sensation.

“This?” He says, lifting his fingers up after collecting it, two digits scissoring in the air, a white and transparent string connecting them. You nod, not expecting him to do what comes next. “This is how excited you are for us.” He brings his fingers in his mouth and you don’t know why, but something about it feels wrong and your legs close in shame immediately, but Jaemin parts them open.

“No hiding, remember? You’re so pretty, why would you hide this from us?” He coos, bringing one of his hands where Haechan was before.

You’re about to complain, once again feeling like he shouldn’t be the one doing that, but Haechan doesn’t say anything, and you can’t complain when he starts moving his fingers on you. Shocks of pleasure spreading through your body as he starts moving them so nicely.

“Like it, bunny?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. He’s not even watching where his fingers are, playing with you with his eyes closed as if he’s been doing it for ages. “Like it when I play with your clit?”

The temperature of your body spikes up at his words. You may not know how good you can feel but you’re pretty good at anatomy, yeah, even that anatomy, no matter how embarrassing you found it, but this surely wasn’t for scientific purposes so, of course, your skin burns up and your legs are about to close again.

This time is Mark the one that stops you, sitting on the other side of the couch and keeping your leg still.

“You didn’t answer,” Jaemin reminds you, voice lower and sterner.

“Yeah, it feels good,” you breathe out. Your breath shakes when he teases your entrance, the tip of his fingers pushing just against the opening but without sliding in.

“Oh, bunny. You must like me a lot,” he chuckles, collecting more wetness and spreading it on your thigh.

Your eyes look for Haechan, trying to get if it’s a bad sign, if he’s mad because you’re enjoying somebody else’s touch so much, but he’s lost, eyes staring right into your core and on his friend’s finger, and you shouldn’t feel so pulled toward him but something in the way he’s looking at you, well, your pussy, makes you feel even hotter.

By now you got where this is going, it’s about sex. That’s where all your problems are coming from. But you don’t know what to do. And you typically don’t like not having control over things.

“I — I’ve never done this before,” you blabber out, making them laugh.

“We know,” Jeno replies. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.”��

“Is it — is it bad?”

“Bad?” Jaemin grins, starting to move his fingers faster. “That’s the funny part.”

You look at him with confused, yet curious eyes, and he winks at you.

“Want his fingers?” Haechan asks, nervously shaking his leg because this is dragging too long and he just wants to bury himself deep inside of you, he had waited long enough, and now he has to have you.

“Like… inside?” You dare to ask and Mark laughs, “so, you know something about sex.”

“I — I,” you stutter, but the words die in your brain. You heard your friends talk about it, it was something along the lines of ‘taking care of themselves,’ and ‘he’s so good I couldn’t walk for a day,’ but you never indulged in those kinds of talks. Sex just felt too dirty and wrong for you, so you always avoided it. But maybe now you would’ve found those talks useful, maybe if you sat and listened just one time, you would’ve taken care of this yourself instead of ending up here, spread open, dripping wet, in front of your boyfriend and his friends. Not that you mind, but you’re not really sure you can take whatever is about to come.

“Dude, it’s a miracle she knows how to call what she has between her legs,” Jaemin retorts and you glare at him.

“Hey! I know how to call it.”

He smirks, quickening the pace on you, your lower lip getting trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans.

“Say it,” he orders, looking straight into your eyes, they look oddly soft for the way he’s talking to you and moving his fingers on your sensitive bud. But that’s what’s pushing you to the limit again, his contrasts.

Still, it’s hard to swallow and let the word slip out of your mouth, and when you do, when the word ‘pussy’ falls from your lips, you’d rather be swallowed by the floor.

“Good girl,” Jaemin praises you and you have no idea of the effect those two words have on you until the same pleasure of before hits you unexpectedly.

“And we’re down to two, she won’t last longer, you know,” Jeno says, looking at you with an amused expression, giggling at the way you’re so confused about what he’s talking about. “You came, baby,” he clears your doubt. “Just like before when you were grinding on him like your life depended on it. You had an orgasm.”

“Ruining all the fun?” Jaemin huffs, glaring at him.

The black-haired rolls his eyes. “She already had two, I’m not ruining anything.”

“Can you stop?” Haechan stops them, getting up, towering over you. “I won’t let you come close to her if you keep bickering over bullshits.”

You don’t say a word, but your body tingles seeing this side of your boyfriend. Haechan is one that knows what he wants but you’ve never seen him like this, so dominant, so in control. It’s hot, and it makes you wetter.

Haechan would love to eat you out, he’s been dreaming about it since you first started dating, and your cunt glistening is basically inviting him, but he’s leaving that for later, maybe even to somebody else of them, knowing how disgusting his friends are, they wouldn’t flinch at going down on you with a mix of their cum dripping out of you. He has all his life with you to eat your pussy and leave you like a trembling mess, and even if you don’t know, he’s going to make sure to do that.

“Want to help me with my pain, baby?” He asks and you frown.

“You said you weren’t in pain?”

“Oh, I’m not in pain when you’re paying attention to me, but you left me all hard and throbbing for you,” he pouts, shuffling with his pants and pushing them down his smooth, toned legs. Your eyes wander on them before something bigger catches your eyes. No, it’s not your first time seeing him, but the first time you barely paid attention to it and you’re more than sure it wasn’t that big.

“You… you are in pain there?” You ask, briefly looking between his legs, pointing with a shy finger, before meeting his warm, brown eyes.

He nods, taking a step back. “Get on your knees,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation.

“Damn, she’s obedient,” Mark notices with a small smirk on his face and something about it makes your heart swell with pride.

“Does it hurt because it’s hard?”

Haechan smiles, caressing your cheek, fighting the urge to stuff your mouth full and turn you into a crying mess, but it’s hard when you’re looking at him like that, big eyes and a genuinely concerned pout on your lips.

“Kinda,” he replies. “I’m so hard because of you. We are hard because of you.” You turn around, looking at them but they’re all completely dressed up and that hits you, you’re so exposed while they’re not, and… “This is the effect you have on us.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Why do I bring you pain?”

“You don’t bring us pain,” he chuckles, thumb caressing your lower lip, “not if you take care of it.”

“Do you want to take care of us?” Jeno asks, making you look at him.

You nod eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, I want to be good. Want to make you feel good just like Nana did with me.”

Haechan smiles before moving closer to you, holding the base of his cock in his hands. “I’ll guide you, okay? If anything makes you uncomfortable just tap my thighs and I’ll stop.”

You nod, anticipation bubbling into you. Fear long gone as this feels all new and exciting. And your competitiveness kicks in when you remind yourself that the others are watching. You want to be good. You want to make them want you even more. You want to prove to them you can be as good as them.

“Touch it,” he says and your hand hesitantly moves to wrap around it, you follow his action and wrap around his base before he orders you to move up and down. It feels weird. It’s heavy and hard, so damn hard a small part of you is jumping with pride because you are the cause of that.

You don’t know what comes over you but you lean in, tongue sticking out to lick his tip, dripping something salty and white.

They gasp and you pull away immediately, taken aback.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your eyes are apologetically looking at all of them as if you’re also doing something to them.

“No, no,” Mark replies, voice clipped and face…red?

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” he cuts you off and you don’t focus on him when Haechan clears his throat and you turn to him.

“Can you take it all in your mouth?”

Your eyes widen. All of it?

“Sure,” you reply, swallowing your fear, pretending that you know exactly what you’re doing but you don’t know a thing. You’re playing with fire and you don’t even fear you’re going to get burned.

You knit your brows when he pushes into your open mouth, it’s heavy on your tongue and big, so big you don’t know how you’re going to take it all since he’s not even halfway in and you’re already gagging. Has your gag reflex always been so terrible?

“Oh, poor baby,” you hear Jaemin’s voice come from beside you, you guess he’s standing next to you now, but you don’t move your eyes to check, trying to concentrate on the big cock your boyfriend was trying to make you take. “Is it too much for you?”

It is.

But you’re too proud to give it to him. So you shake your head, a terrible mistake that makes Haechan slip into you more and you gag on it.

They all laugh and you look up at Donghyuck trying to look menacing but you only look funny like that, cute, his cute little baby always, but funny.

“Maybe, Nana is right,” he says, caressing your cheek, finding it endearing how you’re still holding him in, ignoring the way some spit is already dripping out of the corner of your mouth. And he didn’t start moving yet. “Maybe you can’t take it.”

You cough when he pulls out, spit trickling down your chin but the thought of wiping it off doesn’t even cross your mind. You want to prove a point, make them proud.

“I can, I can take it,” you squeak, shifting on your knees, the hard floor starting to burn on your skin. “Please, give me another chance, I just need to get used to it,” you say before lowering your voice and eyes. “It’s big.”

They’d like to tease you more at how shy you are, mocking you to repeat it, this time looking at his eyes and saying that word, but they all leave it as a thought. Because if it might not be too much for you — it is — but it’s definitely getting too much for them.

None of them is known for being patient, maybe Jeno, when he’s in the right mood. But they all move like beasts, eager to get more, and fast, and this is taking way too long. It’s hot, but none of them is used to ease people into sex, nobody else they ever fucked with would take so much to jump on their cock and come out of there looking like a mess. But you on the other hand…

“We’ll try one last time, baby,” Haechan coos, “but if you disappoint me, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want it, right?”

You shake your head. You have no idea what kind of punishment he’s talking about, but you don’t even want to find out. You will make him feel good.

Haechan groans and throws his head back when you take all his length inside, trying to ignore the way the fat tip of his cock is pressing against the back of your throat, making you gag. You think that could turn him off, but apparently, the more you struggle, the happier he gets. And the same thing applies to the lewd sounds, you find them disgusting and embarrassing even, but the four men around you don’t feel the same.

It’s hot seeing you put so much effort into something so lewd, innocently doing your best to make him feel good, staining your purity with squelching sounds, muffled moans and bobbing head. Your pretty pink camisole still covering your upper body, staining with spit and pre-cum dripping out your messy first blowjob.

It’s not even the kind that Haechan loves the most, he might be eager but he’s rather neat — unlike somebody else — but he doesn’t care right now, he can’t, not even if usually, the feeling of so much drool spilling down his balls would make him cringe, right now it’s making him even harder.

And after all, you will learn.

They were all sure that by the end of the night they would’ve turned you into a completely different person. Addicted to their cocks and sex.

And you are on the right road they want you to follow because as dirty as it feels, as much the piercing gaze of these men and their groans and dirty words makes you want to hide, they are once again igniting a spark inside of you.

Your thighs clench and you knit your brows when you feel your clit throb and your pussy clench around nothing, an embarrassing amount of cum dripping out of you. How much do you like them?

You think they don’t catch on it, too busy with the way your lips wrap around your boyfriend’s cock and your lashes flutter, looking up at him.

But Mark sees the way you act. He has been studying you for a while, going crazy at the way you never realize how hot you are. He hates to admit it but he has fantasized about you a lot. You were rather physical with him because he seems so nice and sweet and, after all, he is Haechan’s best friend, so you never hesitated to be all over him when your boyfriend wasn’t around, hugging him longer than you did with others, even daring to kiss him on the cheeks when you greeted each other, and you weirdly loved his hands.

So, he was going to give you a taste of it because he wanted to see your innocent façade fall apart.

You almost choke more around Hyuck’s dick when you feel a hand between your legs and a body press against your back.

“Hi, babe.” Mark’s voice hits your lobe and your ass press back against him, silently, and shamelessly, asking him to help you. “Are you in pain again?”

You nod, try to, considering Haechan now has grabbed a fistful of your hair and is guiding you on his cock with more force.

Mark only laughs, he doesn’t ask if you want his fingers, if you’re ready to take his fingers, eventually, you’ll have to get used to it, right? And your body seems more than ready anyway. And as expected, it’s not that hard to slip a finger inside you, your tight walls relaxing around him and welcoming in with ease even if it’s your first time.

Your head falls back, pulling away from Haechan’s firm hold and spluttering when your mouth is finally empty again.

“Fuck,” Jaemin moans, and then brings one hand on your face, you expect him to wipe the mess away, but instead he smears it around your face, making you gasp and blink in surprise. “What, bunny?” He snickers, a mocking smirk on his lips. “You look so pretty like this, like a painting.”

You can’t see yourself, so you seek reassurance from your boyfriend that is looking at you with a tender — wicked — smile. “He’s right, you’re so pretty like this.”

You don’t reply, a bit because you can do nothing but accept it and a bit because when Mark pushes a second finger inside, it feels too much.

“Mark, oh… wow,” you whimper, head falling to stare between your legs how his hand is pressing against your clit and his wrist is moving to guide the movements inside of you.

“Oh, wow?” Jeno chuckles, mocking you. “Do you ever swear?”

You stammer, head snapping at him in surprise. He scares you because you can’t read him. He had barely touched you or teased you and you don’t know what to expect, he seems sweet, but is he? Are they? You don’t have time to dwell on them or their kindness because Haechan grabs your hair again, tugging at it harshly enough to make you groan in pain.

You look at him asking for an explanation, but he just pushes his cock inside your mouth. He doesn’t have the patience to teach you with words anymore, he will throw you straight into the practice ground, hoping you will make it out alive.

“I told you I don’t want to be disappointed,” he groans, hips moving with a steady, fast rhythm, now truly not caring if you can take it or not. “You were doing so good, baby, keep taking my cock. Show me how much love me. You love me, right?”

You hum around him and you get that it must feel good because his eyes squeeze shut and his fingers tighten around your hair. So you do it again, this time not to answer him, but you guess the sounds coming out of your lips are caused by Mark’s fingers inside you.

Your eyes snap in panic toward Jaemin when you see him pick up his phone and as soon as Haechan frees your mouth you ask, “What — what are you doing?”

“Filming you,” he smiles. A sweet, toothy smile that hides the grin in his eyes and the way the sight of you, teary eyes, ruined mascara starting to pool under your eyes, spit streaked chin and cheeks as the saliva dries on your beautiful skin, is making his cock rock hard.

“But — but why?”

“Because you need to learn, remember?” Surely, not because he was going to watch this over and over again and imagine you were kneeling between his legs letting him facefuck you. He would never do that. “You can watch this over and over again and get better with time.”

“Oh,” you whisper. That makes sense. “But no one else will see this, right?”

Jaemin shakes his head, caressing your cheeks, and laughing when your eyelids fall close at the gentle touch and a sweet whimper rolls out of your lips. “No one, bunny.”

Your eyes look for Haechan’s consent again and when he smiles at you, your lips fall open again. When he starts moving inside you again it feels more comfortable than before, slowly getting used to the intrusion and his strength, and surely Mark’s fingers inside you are making the whole thing more enjoyable too.

More moans vibrate around his length as the two digits inside you curl and brush against a spot that makes your toes curl and your breath shorten. You don’t know what Mark is doing, but he’s so good at it because you know you never felt like this before.

You want to warn them that you feel the same sensation build up in your stomach again, but you can’t, Haechan has no intention to pull out of you when he’s so close, and the orgasm hits so good, you wouldn’t say a thing even if your mouth was free.

You think Haechan is going to let go of you but instead, he pushes deeper into your mouth, making you gasp for air through your nose, pressing your face so far that your nose nuzzles against the fuzzy layer of hair over his cock, and you almost choke when something warm and salty fills your throat. When he lets go of you, you gasp and are about to spit it on the floor when your boyfriend grabs your head and pulls you back by your hair.

“Swallow it,” his voice is unexpectedly deep and stern and it’s enough to make you obey him with no hesitation, no matter how wrong and dirty it all feels. “Good girl.” You don’t know what’s kicking in your brain but the way he’s demanding and then sweet as he praises you, it’s making your head spin and want more.

“What — what is — what was that?” You ask, squeezing your eyes, blinking some tears away.

Haechan grins, kneeling at your level to kiss you. It’s soft, like the usual kiss he gives you when you cuddle in your bedroom, and it feels… romantic. As if there aren’t three hungry gazes staring into you, imagining the worst things to do to you.

“That’s my cum, baby. Just like the one that is dripping out of you now.”

Your eyes wander away from his, too shy and conscious about the mess between your legs.

“It’s… it’s because you like me a lot?”

He nods, “And because you’ve been such a good girl sucking my cock.”

The vulgar words hit your core, and you expect to shy away but somehow, they make your pussy clench around nothing again.

Is your body seeking more? Are they going to give it to you?

“My knees burn,” you whisper, expecting Haechan to do something but you jolt in surprise when Jeno walks toward you and lifts you up.

“Should we finish this in the bedroom?” He’s holding you in his arms, roughly hoisting you on his shoulder as if you are a ragdoll but he’s talking to Haechan. You get flustered because your ass is literally next to his face and you flinch when he bites down on the soft, plump skin.

“No, the bedroom, no,” you cry. And they quirk a brow, looking between you and Haechan.

“Bedroom,” your boyfriend orders and Jeno swiftly walks toward the room.

“Jeno, no,” you cry uselessly, and when he opens the door, you want to die.

“Oh,” he whispers, smirking when he eyes the bed.

“So that’s what you didn’t want us to see?” This time is Jaemin mocking you, you get it by now that he looks sweet and gentle but under that façade hides a monster.

“Your teddy bear?” Mark asks amused, staring at the toy laying in the middle of the bed, between crumpled-up sheets. You really tried to make it go away alone, didn’t you?

“It hurt too much, I didn’t know what to do.” You confess even if they weren’t thinking at that, except Mark, of course. So they are even more surprised when they see a patch of the teddy bear slightly stained with your cum.

“Oh, poor baby,” Jeno coos, laying you on the bed with no care at all. “Your pussy was begging for so much attention you just had to fuck yourself on your plushie.”

Now that was too dirty for you to take. You had no idea you were doing that, it was just your habit to hug the toy with your legs and when you felt that the friction felt good your body started moving alone.

“I didn’t know,” you defend.

Jeno snickers, “I’m starting to think you’re playing a character. Maybe you’re not as innocent as you want to make us believe.”

“No — no, I swear, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t have done that if I knew it was bad.”

“It’s not bad,” Mark chimes in. “It’s never bad if it makes you feel good.”

You’d argue with that, if it was another occasion, if you weren’t spread open with Jeno between your legs, fingers playing again with your sensitive clit, and teasing your glistening entrance.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, starting to hate how his fingertips are only brushing over your sensitive skin and not bringing you any pleasure.

“Damn, already addicted to it?” Haechan mocks you and you don’t expect that comment to come from him. He had been nothing but nice with you tonight, apart from when he was shoving his cock into your mouth.

“It feels good,” you mumble, hiding your face with your hands but Jaemin groans and pulls your hands apart.

“I think we should keep these busy,” he says before winking at Mark. Your eyes widen when they both get rid of their clothes, cocks springing free, hard and thick, smeared with pre-cum at the tip. You can’t even look away because you are too amazed by them, and your gaze keeps bouncing back and forth between the man at the end of the bed and the one on your left.

You only lift your gaze when Mark climbs on the bed and kneels next to your face, well, until then, because when his cock hovers over you, you can only keep your eyes there.

“Hey, you look at theirs with more love than you looked at mine,” Haechan scolds, now sitting next to Jeno that is still teasing your dripping cunt.

You apologize feebly, wanting to tell him that you were too shocked by his before to have a positive reaction to it.

“Are you going to punish me?”

Haechan snorts but shakes his head. “I’m going to make you feel good. Show you how good my cock will make you feel.”

“My mouth again?”

“No, baby,” he smiles. “Here.”

Your eyes widen when his hand palms your cunt, Jeno is sitting next to him, giving him space to fit perfectly between your bent open legs.

“Inside?” It comes out as dry as your throat while your brain tries to think how it could fit in you.

He clicks his tongue, “Where else?”

“But it’s… it’s never going to fit.” You say when he starts rubbing his cockhead against your folds, collecting the wetness.

“I promise you it will fit,” he reassures you, wrapping the hand that isn’t around the base of his cock on your hip and caressing gently, a sharp contrast to the way he’s looking at you, hungry like a hunter that just got his prey after running after it for days. He’s drooling over you and he’s not sure he can promise you he’ll be gentle.

“Are — are you sure it will feel good?”

“Best you’ve ever felt,” he replies. “I promise, I’d never hurt you, you know.”

You gulp, looking at how big he is and then your tummy, thinking that it’s impossible for all that to slip into you and feel good. And then you meet his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way he never did and you can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

“Just the tip,” he whispers, looking into your eyes before he brings them back where your bodies are touching and sinks into you, pussy fluttering around his thick tip and already squeezing tight.

Your head rolls back and your jaw clenches as a gritted moan ripples through your throat. It’s nothing like Mark’s fingers. The stretch is triple it and even if it doesn’t hurt it still feels too much to take. You surely aren’t sure you could deal with it.

You’re about to protest, moving a hand between your bodies to stop him but he sinks into you without a warning, and the high, broken moan you let out shouldn’t turn him —them— on so much, but it does.

You only mumble senseless things, hiding your face between the pillow and Jaemin’s thigh, and they all wonder what will draw a curse out of your pretty, pure lips.

“Big,” you cry, as if saying it out loud will change the fact his cock is stretching you wide and reaching parts you didn’t even know you had until two seconds ago.

“You can take it,” Haechan reassures you, cooing against your ear as he leans in to kiss you softly. “I’ll take it slow, okay?” He has to try, he knows the others won’t take it easy on you, and he has to wreck you but not too much to the point you can’t take it anymore. He’s already scared you can barely take this, he wonders how you will go through more.

But it’s easier said than done and the slow pace of long and intense thrusts only lasts what it lasts.

“Hyuck,” your voice breaks, and tears start to form in your eyes when he picks up a rhythm you can’t keep up with, not that you’re doing anything, just laying there, half-naked, and looking over at the three men hovering you with lidded eyes.

You think you’re pitying them but completely different thoughts are running through their minds. Jaemin and Mark especially are having a ball seeing you like this, helpless and yet needy for more. You’re falling apart slowly, lips moving without emitting a sound as not even you know if you want him to stop or if you want more.

You’re so lost in the pleasure and thelittle discomfort that you forget for a moment Jeno is there too, and when his hand touches your thigh, you jump in surprise.

“It’s just me, angel,” he hums, smiling at you, and you nod, biting your lips to muffle the moans.

“Don’t do that,” Jaemin scolds you, slapping his cock against your lips to make you let go of them. “You will bleed.” He’s messing with you, playing you like a violin, fucking up with your brain more than he’s doing with your body. And yet, you fall for it, freeing your lower lip, not holding back anymore.

“Hyuck,” you cry again when he lifts your hips and slides deeper into you, “I can’t.”

“You can,” he groans back, holding your hips with more force and you’re sure your body will remind you of that hold for days. “You are taking me. Look at how good — fuck — you feel. Dripping, tight pussy sucking me in.”

Your mouth opens to complain, or to let out a moan, you’re not even sure anymore, but Jaemin shushes you. When the tip of his cock slaps your cheek you’re startled, meeting his gaze in surprise.

“Gimme your hand, bunny,” he purrs. And you don’t know why you find that petname so hot coming out of his lips, probably it’s the way he says it, the way his lips curl when he places it at the end of a sentence, so sweetly and yet with the intention of breaking you. You don’t know it, you can��t know it, but it’s like you sense it, and you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you.

So, you obediently give him his hand, soft fingers wrapping around yours before he brings your hand on his dick.

“See how hard I am for you? How much I like you?”

You nod, licking your lips, feeling your throat get dryer because Haechan is still fucking into you, pounding deep and hard and no, it doesn’t feel bad, but it’s too intense and you don’t know how to deal with so much pleasure. You feel like it’s getting to your head, like all your sanity is slowly being dragged out of you, your hold on control is growing thin and you don’t know what to do. You should panic, some sort of self-defense should tell you to run, but you don’t want to. You want to see how far this can go, how much more you can feel. Finally liberated to being pushed into a world you’ve been ignoring for so long, too long.

“Yeah?” He asks, a cocky smirk on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Knowing we’re so hard just from watching you.” He starts moving your hands on him and when Mark does the same after grabbing your other hand, you turn to him. His eyebrows are knitted in concentration, and he’s lost looking at your pretty, manicured hand and how it looks so beautiful on his hard girth. And he wonders how you can be so delicate and pure even now.

“You’re so pretty,” Mark whispers when he meets your glossy eyes. And you’d like to let yourself get lost in the compliment but with your boyfriend fucking you feverishly, slamming into you after pulling all the way out, creating disgusting, lewd sounds, you can’t think of anything else.

“So fucking good for me,” Haechan moans, throwing his head back and biting his lips, and through wet lashes, you can’t help but feel happy because you are making him feel this good. He looks even more beautiful than usual, almost as if he has a different glow radiating from him, and you like to think it’s because of you.

And probably that thought makes you convulse more under him as you come again, squeezing him tight, the movements on Jaemin and Mark’s cock, coming to a stop as the pleasure overtakes you.

“Don’t fucking stop,” Jaemin grunts, slapping your cheek with his cock again. “Come on, be good and make us feel good. You’re not selfish, right?”

You shake your head, mind hazed by the pleasure that dims but doesn’t seem to stop.

“Good, be a good little play doll and make us feel good.”

“Open up,” Mark says, pushing his cock to your mouth. You think he’s going to do the same thing your boyfriend did before but you’re surprised when he only teases your mouth with his tip, and you’re even more surprised when Jaemin turns you around and does the same. They keep teasing you like this, and without them telling you, you eagerly start to suck on them, sucking more of their length in, cheeks hollowing as you shily try to do more to make them happy.

So you set your own pace, turning side to side with a pretty decent rhythm to suck Mark first and then pass on Jaemin. Blowing them with more strength every time that you hear their groans and moans grow bigger, you find that so exciting, and you think it’s a shame you can’t see their faces contorted in pleasure but sucking on them —united to your boyfriend’s cock — makes your eyes fall close in bliss.

And Haechan loses it completely, he pushes your legs up, pressing them against your chest, your eyes snapping open in surprise and because you can feel him even more.

“Hyuck, no,” you wail, tears dripping down your temples, drying in your hair.

“Shut up,” he retorts, leaning in, making his friends pull away, kissing you harshly, not caring that his friends’ cocks are so close to his face and were into your mouth just a few seconds ago. He needs you. “You feel so fucking good, babe. You’re making me so — fuck — so happy.”

You smile when he pulls away but once again Mark and Jaemin are on you.

You once again think he’s in pain, you think all of them are in pain, when your eyes shoot open and they have a frown on their faces.

“Close your eyes,” Jaemin whispers through gritted teeth, you don’t get why but you obey and you’re lucky for that because you feel hot liquid spurts on your face and chest and you gasp in surprise.

That’s the last thing it takes for Haechan to make him come. It’s fucking wrong but fuck, if you’re hot covered in cum, moaning as he stimulates you, chest falling and rising swiftly and nails digging into the sheets.

“Hyuck,” you cry when the warmth fills you up, coating you in white.

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “So good.”

You feel a thumb clean something off your face, well, only off your eyes because you can feel the rest of it stick on your cheeks, lips, neck and probably even forehead.

When you open them again they’re smiling at you, as if what just happened is the most normal thing in the world. But you’re not any different from them. You feel thrilled. You need more.

“More,” you plead and their eyes sparkle up.

“Move.” You don’t expect Jeno to yank your boyfriend away and come between your legs.

“Hey,” Haechan warns, glaring at his friend. “She’s mine.”

“Don’t share her if you want her all to yourself,” he retorts before sinking down and cleaning your face from his friends’ cum. You were fucking hot like that he wasn’t going to lick any of it off of you. You eagerly kiss him back when his lips meet yours, but it doesn’t last long, he has other plans and he wants to make them happen as soon as possible. You are a fucking dream, but you’ve not come true, yet, and patience is not a gift God gave him.

“Jeno,” you yelp when he rips your camisole off of you.

“Not my fault they weren’t eager to see your boobs,” he smirks, throwing the ripped fabric behind him. “Fuck, they’re perfect,” he mumbles, staring at your chest, fondling the skin, and then sucking on your nipples.

You don’t expect to be that sensitive there, but you are and the way his lips wrap around your bud and suck on it with passion makes your head spin. It feels so good that you don’t even realize you start grinding against him.

He grins against your skin. “Turned you into a needy mess already?”

Your eyes shy away and realize that neither Mark nor Jaemin are at your side anymore. But you don’t have time to see what they’re doing because Jeno’s lips are around you again while his fingers tease the other nipple and your brain shuts again.

Jeno’d love to make you come like this, he’s more than sure he could make you come like this. But he’s not so sure about your stamina and he doesn’t want to risk it. If he doesn’t get into you now he will go insane.

“Need you.” But it’s you the one that whimpers those words, catching him — them — by surprise. “Jeno, please.”

“Please what, angel?” He teases, he will drag nasty words out of your pretty lips.

Normally you would’ve stuttered and begged him to just get what you wanted but right now you’re desperate, his lips and fingers on you, the warmth of your boyfriend’s seed inside, Jeno’s hard cock grinding against your sensitive, hard clit.

“Please, fuck me.”

Their eyes stare at you in surprise and amusement, shocked and entertained that your shell is coming off, slowly, but all those walls are crashing down.

He groans and kisses you roughly again, you noticed that even if he’s rough, he’s not messy, and he likes to bite, a lot. On your lower lip, on your neck, and on the soft flesh of your boobs. But you find out you like it.

“Where are you going?” You panic when he rolls to the side.

He chuckles, “I’m not leaving you, don’t worry,” his tone is tender but there’s a hint of a mock in it. “Come here,” he pats his lap when he sits on the bed, kicking the teddy bear with his feet to have more space.

“Hey! Mister Teddy,” you complain, crawling on wobbly legs to fix the stuffed toy at the edge of the bed, hoping it could be safe from whatever will keep happening from then on.

“Mister Teddy?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Thought you were more creative.”

“I was ten when I got it,” you reply, plopping on the mattress next to it.

“Damn, he’s really living all your first adventures,” Jaemin laughs, looking at the toy briefly and not catching your glare.

“Come here,” Jeno calls you again, spreading his legs more, giving you space to kneel between them.

“I’m leaking,” you whisper, feeling discomfort when cum starts dripping out of you due to the position; hands and knees, ass perched up as you crawl to him.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to stuff you again.” The way he’s so vulgar about it makes your stomach twist in anticipation. You find something so hot about the contrast between you and them, even your boyfriend and Jaemin whom you always imagined were the calmest and most similar to you. It’s clear that this is completely different from the everyday world.

“Why are you still covered?” You ask timidly, kneeling between his open legs, but not dragging your eyes on his crotch, for some reason he makes you shy. You truly don’t know what to expect from him, one second he looks like he’s indifferent and one later it’s like he wants to eat you alive.

“Wanted you to unpack the gift,” he jokes, pointing at his black boxers and then at you with a nod of the head.

You lean closer to him, ass perching up, making the three men behind you groan, and you note for the first time that they sound so animalistic, like starved hunters that are just sweet enough to wait for you, their prey, to offer yourself to them. But you leave them in the back of your mind, delicate, manicured fingers, hooking in the bands of his underwear, pulling it down with the help of his hips lifting from the mattress.

If you were in a cartoon your jaw would be on the floor, and your eyes would be big, coming out of your skull, but you’re in the real world, and no animation can help you take what Jeno has between his legs.

You gulp, looking at him, finding an amused grin on his face. Oh, he loves that. But you love a challenge, and Haechan wasn’t that much smaller than him so if you took your boyfriend, you could take him, right? Either way, you didn’t care much how impossible that felt. You needed more. And you just seemed addicted to the feelings that sex brought along, throwing yourself into something you weren’t ready for.

“Do I suck you?”

“Honey,” he snorts, “I need more than your mouth.”

“But shouldn’t I lay? How are you going to fuck me like that?”

They totally weren’t used to hearing those words slip out of your mouth, and it was absurd how normal, clean, and innocent they still sounded coming from you. You were an angel sent on earth, there was no other explanation they could give themselves.

After the first shock, he shakes his head and signals you to crawl closer. “Come close, I don’t bite.”

You snicker because he bites very much but you do as he ordered.

“I want you to ride me.”

You tilt your head to the side, looking at him with a cute, confused expression and he has to take a deep breath not to flip you over and piston into you until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

“Slide down on my cock and I’ll guide you for the rest.” He tells you instead, somehow gaining some composure back to hide how desperate he is to have you.

You hum hesitantly, he holds his cock up for you, and you slowly sink on it.

“Fuck,” you curse when he’s halfway in, already feeling like he’s splitting you in two, and you are soaking wet and have already been stretched by Haechan before. “You’re too much.”

“I’m in, angel,” he reassures you through gritted teeth because you are tight and warm, and he feels like a teenage boy about to come just by that. It’s pathetic almost, as if this is his first pussy and his body doesn’t know how to react. “Just bottom out, I promise it will feel good.”

You trust him, and so, sinking your nails into his shoulders, you reach the base. You decide to also blame it on the position but fuck, if he’s deep into you.

“Was I good?” You are eager for validation and everybody in the room takes note of that. Haechan already knows it, it’s a thing you have even on non-sexual occasions, but it’s nice to know you crave that even in bed. And the others two can’t wait to use it against you.

“So good, angel,” he praises you. “Now, move on my cock.”

You hesitate, trying to get what he wants. Feeling time pass by, sensation highlighted by the gazes that are burning your back. Somehow the fact that they are not all over you but patiently waiting and staring at your every move makes you a bit more anxious. “I don’t know how to do it,” you whine in a broken confession, voice cutting because he’s not moving and he’s already fucking with your brain.

“But you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Want to learn? You’re such a good learner, always been a good, eager student, I’m sure you can be a good student even now.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes, hoping to unfog your brain and focus on what you have to do. Not only you don’t know how to do what he wants but your brain is far gone.

“You are big, though,” you weep. “You fill me — fill me so well.”

Jeno’s nails sink into your skin when your wet insides clench around him. You’re not controlling your body and yet you’re driving him insane.

“I promise,” he huffs, throwing his head back, shaking his black hair out of his face, and then looking at you, “promise it will feel even better if you start moving. Remember what you did before?”

“When?”

“On poor Mr Teddy and Haechan.”

Your body sparks in flames of shame when he reminds you that, feeling guilty for having done something so dirty with your precious teddy bear and with your boyfriend in front of his friends. But once again, the needs you need to satisfy are making your body go in a different direction.

So you start grinding your hips back and forth, moaning lowly every time your clit rubs against his pubes.

“Fuck,” he moans, biting his lips. “Just like that, angel. Keep moving.”

You whimper when his hands wrap around your waist and Jeno starts fucking you on him, he starts slowly but then his slams get harsher. It takes a while to get what he wants, but you try to follow him as he guides you.

And soon you start to try different patterns, circling your hips, lifting your body up and down, just grinding, and trying to press in your brain what makes the both of you feel better. When you finally find it, and Jeno leaves you more freedom of movement, you feel on cloud nine.

“Fuck,” somebody moans behind you, loud enough to remind you that you and Jeno are not alone in the room. “Look at how good you are at this.” Only when more words leave his mouth, you realize it’s Jaemin.

“Do — do you like me like this?” You ask in a whimper, throwing your head back, the image of the three men pumping their aching boners appearing upside down in your eyes.

Mark would say that he loves you like this, but keeps it to himself, afraid of crossing lines that are not meant to be crossed.

“Don’t you see how hard we are for you?” Your boyfriend replies instead. “This is what you do to us.”

You smile, head moving to fall against Jeno’s forehead, happy with the answer you received.

“And you?” You groan. “Do you — do you like me?”

He groans, nose twitching as his face contorts in a frown. “Are you kidding? Don’t you feel how much I like you? Do I — shit — have to prove it more?”

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out in a whimper, his arms wrap around your frame and he helps you with your thrusts, and then he bites on your lower lip, pulling roughly before he lets go of your soft lips. “Pro—prove me how much you love me.”

Jeno starts sucking on your nipples. It’s loud and wet, and gets your cunt dripping around him so hard that another orgasm rips out of you before you can do anything.

“Horny, dumb, baby,” he mocks, slapping your ass cheek, grinning against your boob when you clench down on him at the impact. “Love the pain, don’t you? Love when I hit you,” another loud smack follows. “Love when I bite you,” his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast. “Do you love when I pinch?” He asks, twisting your other nipple in his hand, your toes curling and your stomach closing in a knot again.

“Yes, love it so much, Jeno, please.”

“Good, keep being a good girl for me, shit,” he groans. “And take all I give to you. All the pain and all the pleasure.”

You think he has an addiction to your boobs because he never lets go of them, lips and fingers torturing them, causing more shivers to run down your spine. But you don’t mind, it feels so good that your brain starts slipping down a treacherous path where you have no control anymore.

And he thinks that too. He might be addicted to you, actually. Because as you bounce up on him, pussy sucking him with eagerness and dripping down his balls, boobs bouncing up and down, he gets lost in your face for a second. Long lashes falling shut on your cheeks, streaked with a messed-up mix of spit, cum, tears and mascara. Swollen soft lips parted in search of air, letting out the prettiest, softest, and most sinful sounds he ever heard. He can only think one thing.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

But he’s not. So he better make the best out of this situation and fuck you more, maybe even make you miss his cock so when Haechan will fuck you again and it won’t feel as good as this you will think of him, how good he made you feel.

And in the depth of yourself you too wonder if anything else will make you feel this good because you didn’t feel like this before, brain dizzy and barely feeling your body, like you were watching from the outside and yet feeling every sensation.

“Gonna fill you up,” he moans, face buried in the crook of your neck, groaning when he sniffs you and even if you’re sweating, he can scent the delicate perfume you applied on yourself, so sweet and intoxicating mixing with your natural scent, driving him insane.

Haechan is a lucky bastard.

“Gonna give you all of my cum — fuck — fill you ‘til you’re dripping,” he groans, biting on your skin, making you throw your head back.

He’s about to ask you to beg for it, to push you even more, but once again the words come out of your mouth on your own.

“Give me all,” your voice breaks. “Give me all your cum, please. I want it, want it so much.”

They broke you.

That’s Jeno’s last straw, hips stuttering against you harshly, fucking you messily, moaning louder as you come too and your pussy clenches around him more.

“Fuck,” he groans when your bodies stop convulsing against one another. “You’re so fucking good at this, so perfect.”

You whine when he rolls you over, and then slips out of you, leaving you empty, gaping, and leaking. It’s humiliating being so exposed, or you’re sure that’s how you should feel, but your brain only screams ‘more.’

You don’t have the strength to say it, throat dry and eyes too heavy to even stay open. You blank out for a moment and when you open your eyes again you find Haechan staring at you.

“You good?”

You beam at him, a new glow spreading around you, and he smiles back before he leans in to kiss you. You feel hands on your lower body, but you let yourself get lost in this tender moment with your boyfriend. It doesn’t last much though because Jaemin has other plans.

“You’re so filthy, bunny,” he mocks as he pumps two fingers inside your sensitive cunt, pumping the cum in and then out, grinning dumbly at the lewd image in front of his eyes. Loving how easily your destroyed hole lets three of his fingers in.

You think he’s weird not because of what he’s doing but the way he acts about it, the way he’s been acting about it all night, but that still doesn’t make you find him unattractive or not hot. Probably it makes you underestimate him.

“Come here,” Mark calls, and you frown when he lays on the bed next to you.

“But… I’m tired,” you whine, legs shaking with a shiver since Jaemin is still rubbing his fingers against your walls.

“Oh, already?” He teases you with a fake-kind pout on his face. You flinch when Jaemin pulls out and smacks your pussy hard, sending electric shocks through your body.

“Spoiled brat,” he hisses, pinching your thigh.

“Want us to help but won’t do anything to help us,” Mark complains, giving you a daring glare you don’t really understand.

You don’t expect Mark to drag you on top of him, making you sit on his abs with little to no care, your muscles screaming in pain. “Princess wants us to do all the job for her.” He eases you up and makes you fall back onto his cock, a loud groan coming out of your lips because he keeps catching you unprepared. And because it seems that no matter how much you get stretched, your cunt still can’t get used to it. And you find out you love-hate this position.

“Is this how Haechannie treats you?” Your boyfriend sneers at the nickname, plopping on the bed next to you, staring at your fucked out face with an amused grin. He never imagined he would enjoy so much seeing your friends throwing you around.

“Pampers you.” Mark thrust up into you, leaving you breathless. “Touching you gently.” Another one. “Afraid you may break.” And another, even harder, knocking the air out of your lungs.

You hum, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes again, palms of your hands falling flat on his chest, feeling his muscles flex every time he lifts your ass up and down on him. Mark’s moving you so easily you should be afraid but your body tingles in excitement and your brain shuts down again.

“What a surprise you love being treated like this,” he mocks, spanking your ass, chuckling when your cunt clenches around him. “Does it feel good? My big hand against your soft, delicate skin, princess?”

You whine. The sweet pet name somehow makes you feel like he’s mocking you even more.

“Answer me,” he groans, cupping your chin, forcing you to look at him while his other hand sends another loud spank on your other ass cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is broken by sobs, salty drops following down swiftly, hitting his skin, too.

“For how long you planned on keeping it a secret from me?” Haechan asks, kneeling next to Mark and grabbing you by the hair so he can lift you up, pulling you away from his friend’s body. “Had to put on a show in front of my friend so I would snap and let them fuck you and ruin you, uh?”

“No — no, I — I swear, I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?” His usual cocky smirk creeps on your boyfriend’s face as his hold in your hair gets stronger and drags an unexpected moan out of your lips. And he thinks that he’s going to have so much fun turning you into an even needier, kinkier mess from now on.

You shake your head, silently telling him with your eyes that you were honest before, that you never imagined that pain could lead to this pleasure.

“Come on, leave her alone. Don’t you see that she means it? She’s just such a good doll that learns so easily what we want from her. Aren’t you?” Jeno reaches you too, coming to the other side, turning your face to stare at him.

“I’m — I’m not a doll,” you cry, but in reality, you don’t mind being called that. You love dolls. They are pretty. And if they think you are one, you don’t care. It just feels a bit weird to be called one in this context.

“But you’re so pretty and love to play with us,” he pouts, kissing you slowly, cupping your ass harshly before he smacks you again. “You love playing with us, don’t you?”

You nod, falling backward when Mark hits a spot into you that makes your toes curl, and luckily you fall into Jaemin’s strong chest and arms.

“Careful, baby. Dolls can break.” You can hear his evil smirk but it still doesn’t prepare you for what he’s about to do to you.

The scream you let out dies in your throat when you feel him tease your rim.

“Damn, honey, I didn’t even push in,” he laughs at your reaction, feeling your body tense.

“I — I, what are you doing?” You turn your head around when he rests his chin on your shoulder and he’s smiling at you. Fucking evil.

“Filling your pretty ass,” Jaemin replies nonchalantly, batting his lashes at you.

“That’s… that’s…”

“Nasty?” He finishes for you and you nod, biting your lips because Mark is fucking up into you faster and Jeno and Haechan are sucking your nipples and you feel like you’re about to explode.

“But we are nasty,” he grins. If your brain was still with you, you would’ve told him that he is nasty, but you’re too far gone to bicker with him now.

But you still feel that that place is wrong.

“I don’t, I don’t think…” you bite your lips, eyes squeezing as you try to let out words that make sense. “Nothing should go there.”

“You think Nana would put something there if it shouldn’t? You think Nana would ever hurt you or do something you won’t like?”

You think about it, or pretend to think about it, because at this point your brain has no intention of collaborating, and also you really don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, telling you that what’s about to happen is even dirtier than everything else that already happened but you have no idea about it. So you trust him, even if no, you don’t know if he would ever do something to hurt you, because you thought he was nice and he’s surprising you more and more.

When you shake your head and arch your ass back against him, Jaemin smirks and winks at Haechan that is looking at the two of you with an amused smile on his face.

“Too good,” you whimper instead, not even worrying anymore that his wet finger — covered in lube or cum, or both, you’re not really sure about it — is prodding at your entrance and pushing in.

“Jae —” his name doesn’t come out of your mouth because everything that is happening to you is getting to your head.

“Shh, bunny,” he purrs against your earlobe, kissing it before moving to leave wet kisses on your neck. Why the hell is he so messy? “It won’t hurt you. I’ll prep you well to take my cock.”

“Your — your cock?”

“Yes, bunny, you’ve been so good, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” you repeat mindlessly, letting your body relax in his hold, strong arm wrapped around your waist, following the way Mark is moving you on him.

“Shit,” Mark moans, you’re squeezing him in every time that Jaemin adds another finger. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, shocked that Jaemin’s fingers are not hurting you at all, not even when you have Mark pressing into you from the front.

“Nasty princess,” Jeno groans, biting down on the soft, smooth skin of your breast, making you hiss. “Look at how much you’re enjoying this. Are you grateful for this?”

You nod, meeting his eyes, filled with lust.

“You are? Why don’t you thank us?” He teases, starting to rub your clit, flicking it fast enough to make you clench even more around Mark. “Come on, say thank you.”

“I… nghh,” you cry out.

“No, baby. Thank you. It’s easy, even a dumb, nasty princess like you could do it. You just have to repeat. Or are you so cock drunk you can’t even thank us for what we’re giving you? We’re taking care of you, aren’t we?”

You nod enthusiastically but still no words slip out of you.

“We took away your pain,” he grunts, cupping your chin and kissing you harshly, letting his tongue play inside your mouth. “You begged for us to help you and we did. Say thank you.”

You groan when you feel all of them move faster on a different part of your body, testing your brain to come up with two simple words. “Tha-thank you,” you breathe out, hand searching for your boyfriend’s hand and holding it tight when he locks his fingers with yours as his mouth keeps moving on your breast. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant sounding more like a plead for more.

“Good girl,” Jeno praises, biting your lower lip again before he kisses you roughly.

“If she was good she would fuck herself on me,” Mark growls and your glossy eyes fall on him. You are letting him do all the job and you can’t promise him you have the strength to help.

“I’m — I’m sorry,” you reply, hoping he can forgive you.

“Then start fucking yourself on me, if you’re really sorry,” he orders and he stops moving, leaving you to complain at the loss of pleasure.

You knit your brows, trying to find support on the other three men around you that are still stimulating you, and your hips start moving. You replicate what you did before with Jeno but now you find it even harder. Your body aches in pain and trembles in pleasure. And it’s all getting to your head. But somehow you manage to move, it’s like your body is moving on its own, it’s like it has already learned all the tricks they have been teaching you all night.

“See, you can do it if you don’t act like a spoiled, lazy brat,” Mark praises, throwing his head back.

When you feel something big and fat press against your rim, your eyes snap open and Mark’s comments slip into the back of your brain.

“Jaemin what are — what are you doing?” You cry out, voice choking in your throat.

“I told you,” he says, pushing you down, closer to the man underneath you, biting his lips as he watches your ass bounce back and forth on Mark. “Fucking your pretty ass.”

You totally underestimated Jaemin.

“Fuck,” you scream when he slams inside you completely and starts fucking you right away. Your body collapses on Mark and you hear him chuckle deeply against your ear.

“Nana,” you cry out, biting down on Mark’s shoulder, making him hiss, more in surprise than pain. He told you he was going to fuck you there, but you thought he was going to do it after, not with Mark inside you.

“Fuck, bunny, you’re made for this,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as his hands wrap around your waist and fucks deep into your other hole.

“Mark,” you whimper, tears flooding down your face like a river in full. It’s not painful like you expected it to be, it sets your body on fire, bliss running in your veins along with your blood, and before you can even notice you come again. It’s long and more intense than before and you feel like you’re about to pass out, but two arms pull you up. You don’t know who’s doing what, but you feel hands and lips all over you, kissing, biting, pinching. You guess the harsher motions come from Jeno and the gentle ones from your boyfriend but as you faintly make out their grins and chuckles, you’re not really sure about who’s doing what.

“You fucking love this, fuck,” Jaemin mocks. “Such a filthy doll, so nasty, so needy.”

“Are you going to beg for our cocks again?” Mark asks. “Gonna crawl around the — fuck — living room every time we come around here. Letting us use you like the pretty fuckdoll that you are.”

Haechan whispers ‘you wish’ but seeing how much he’s loving this night, he wouldn’t mind. After all, you’re his and you will always be, and a little fun never hurt anybody.

“Yes,” the word slips out of your mind without you thinking about it.

“Yes?” Jeno snickers.

“No, I mean — I mean, I…”

“It’s okay, baby,” Haechan whispers, tugging your hair again and staring at your wrecked face. “Nothing wrong with being our pretty toy. Nothing wrong with craving cocks so much after your first time.”

You hum, but no thought is actually crossing your mind. It’s like the more they fill you up, the more your brain empties.

And the strange thing is that you don’t mind. You truly love this feeling of having no power while they do whatever they want with you.

And the normal–every day–you would be surprised to hear you beg for more, using such filthy words. But right now, that doesn’t exist anymore.

“Please,” you moan. “Give me more. Uh, give me — give me your cum.”

Jaemin curses gutturally, throwing his head back before his forehead dips again against your shoulder. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” He knows you’ll haunt his days and nights to come, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to look at you as he did before.

And as if you want to prove him a point, your hips start to grind on them, somehow finding the right pace to fuck against them while he and Mark keep railing you at their perfect rhythm.

You hear Mark’s moans get higher and slightly whinier, and when you open your eyes to look at him, you smile faintly, falling forward and planting your hands at the sides of his head.

“Fuck,” Mark groans, biting his lips to don’t bite yours. He can’t believe you greeted them some hours ago looking like the most perfect, innocent, well-behaved girl, and now you’re letting them destroy you and are still begging for more. His brain replays images of you before, in your pretty, pink nightwear, with your sweet, loving smile, a thin layer of rosé eyeshadow, and some mascara on your lashes, and when he opens his eyes and looks at you, there’s nothing of it left. You look like a mess.

“Come here,” he encourages you, and you lean closer, a choked moan trapping in your mouth when his tongue lays flat on your cheek and he licks your tears away. “Gotta keep you clean, baby.”

“That’s hot,” your boyfriend groans beside you, and for a second, you think again if any of this that is happening tonight is normal. Do other boyfriends do this too? Did he ever do this with their girlfriends when they were dating? But you shrug it off because wrong or right, you don’t care. Mark is right, if it feels good, that’s all that matters.

And you feel the same, strong and violent sensation built up in your body. They are close too since their thrusts against you are messier and they are both squeezing the skin on your waist to have a grip on the pleasure running through them.

“Can fucking feel you,” Jaemin moans, pressing a hand against the small of your back, pushing you further down and making your ass arch up. You get he’s talking to Mark, and you find it weirdly exciting that they can feel each other through your thin walls separating them. “Fuck, bunny, you feel so good.” You groan and burn in shame when he spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your wrecked rim, adding to the mess of cum and lube.

“Nana,” you cry out his name and he could come only hearing that. It comes out so well from your lips, so sweet and pure while he wrecks you and does the most disgusting things ever.

“Is Nana making you feel good, bunny? Do you like how Nana’s cock fills your pretty, tight hole?” He coos, voice as sweet as the most temping sin.

“Ye-yes, so good,” you moan, some drool spilling on Mark’s shoulder, too fucked out to care about it and control your body. It feels too good. Head spinning and muscles shaking as you know you’re close again. “Please, I’m — I’m close. Fuck me harder,” you wail and they both groan, obeying. Your boyfriend looks at you after clicking his tongue, thinking you will make him go insane, and then meets Jeno’s eyes, looking at him as if he’s silently reminding him how fucking lucky he is to have you. And Haechan only grins, because he knows. He’s so lucky that you’re his.

Jaemin collapses on you, sandwiching you between his and Mark’s body, so closeted in that space that it could almost be claustrophobic and yet it makes you high. You love their skins on yours, heating bodies brushing together in a dirty and wet mess of cum, sweat, and so much more you can’t even tell apart. You love how raw this feels. As if you’re all running after a need you didn’t even know you had, chasing it for dear life.

The orgasm ripples through the three of you at the same time, loud moans, groans, and wet sounds fill the room. It smells like sex, the air feels so thick that you could cut it. And you feel boneless, the weight of Jaemin’s body pressing you flat against Mark, the shocks of the nth orgasm still running through your tired bones, the faint praises you hear coming from one of them, two, or three, you don’t know. Their voices mix up, just like their lips and hands on your skin.

When you lay there, gently turned to lay with your back on the mattress by Mark, too much cum dripping out of you, skin burning up, chest heaving swiftly, and wet cheeks, they think you’ve had enough. A weird feeling of pity screaming in the back of their minds to let you go, clean you up, give you some water and put you to sleep… in what bed they have no idea, considering the only safe thing is Mr Teddy.

But they underestimate what they truly did to you.

“More.”

They blink repeatedly, looking at each other to make sure none of them is mocking your voice and that’s the real you.

“Please,” you plead. “Need more. Need you. Please, please, I’ll be good, I’ll — I’ll take all you give me,” you mumble, praying them with broken eyes staring at them one by one.

And that’s all it takes to make them jump on you again.

They broke you.

Stained your innocence.

Dragged any sane and pure thought out of your brain and turned you into modelable mud in their hands.

Anything they would’ve given to you, you would’ve taken. Accepting it with no second thought of how dirty or wrong it could’ve been.

And in fact, you don’t.

“Need to feel how good your pretty, little pussy is,” Jaemin says, sinking into your swollen and sensitive core. “So good.”

“Nana,” you cry, wrapping your hands around his shoulders when his cock starts rubbing against your velvety walls.

“It’s good, bunny. I know you love this.”

You sniffle, rivers of transparent and black tears staining your face, and he throbs inside of you, groaning into your neck when his head falls forward.

You look like a complete mess and yet, is not enough for him. So one hand slips between you and when his fingers rub against your clit, more tears start to spill from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, “need to film this. Can I — fuck — can I film you, bunny? Can I film how pretty you look right now? Pretty and messy and dumb.”

You nod, expecting the flash to blind you when Mark passes him a phone, but Haechan turns on a small lamp at the side of your bed that tints the room with a warm light and is enough to light up your wrecked state.

He points at your face, caressing it, smearing the mess on your soft cheek, telling you how pretty you look, the pretties doll when you cry. And then he moves it where your bodies meet, the wet, squelching sounds and lewd images being captured by the camera of his phone.

“You’re going to make me so happy, bunny,” he whispers, angling the phone the best he can as he tries to fuck fast into you, and Jeno is so kind to grab it and film for him. They were only going to have one take and it had to be good. “Gonna think of you every time I’m in pain.”

A dumb, sweet smile paints on your face, and that’s what it takes to throw him off. After all, you still are the sweet, naïve, girl they are used to know. And he thinks that Haechan — he believes they won’t be so lucky to have you again — will have to break you every single time. And he wishes he was him so bad, so fucking bad.

“Gonna fill you up,” Jaemin growls. “You’ll be so full of us you’ll remember us for days.” He does as he promises, giving you what you asked for, cock throbbing hard into you as he let out longer moans as pleasure overflows him and you at the same time. He comes messily, hips barely moving against you as he empties himself inside and then pulls out, making his seed spurt on your thighs, and lower stomach.

You hum into your boyfriend’s mouth, and your brain spins faster at that. He’s kissing you so gently as his other three friends keep fucking you, teasing you and filling you with their cum as they like.

A moan ripples from your mouth when his fingers reach your cum-coated mound, you truly have it everywhere now, and he reaches down to move on your clit.

“Hyuck, no,” you cry, swallowing a scream.

“No?” Haechan raises a brow, staring at you with a tender-mocking expression. “Sensitive?”

You nod, blinking your wet lashes as your eyes try to focus on his beautiful face.

“You’re not sensitive for them, though. I think you can take me, can take your boyfriend.” He smirks, watching your smile fade when you get that he has no intention of having mercy on you. “Can you?” He growls, slapping your clit, making you nod and mumble a thread of ‘yes.’

“Good. That’s my fucking good girl.”

You don’t have time to recover from your orgasm or focus on the mess Jaemin and Haechan made, that you’re getting filled again.

“Shit,” Mark moans, wide eyes fixated down where he’s fucking into you, pumping the white mess in and out of you. “You feel so good,” he almost cries, squeezing his eyes to imprint in his brain the sensation of your cunt because he’s sure he never felt something so good before and he won’t ever feel something so good again — well, unless Haechan hits his head and lets them have another round with you, but he highly doubts that. And he also knows that the videos Jaemin took —is taking— won’t be enough, that his hand won’t be enough to replicate this, to replicate you.

“Mark,” you breathe out, glossy, bright eyes looking into his, letting him know how drunk on the feeling you feel, how it is too much, and yet never enough.

“Yes, baby?” He asks, cupping your breast, kneading and pinching your nipples.

Your hips buck up at his harsh moves on you, hands slapping against the sheets and moans coming out of your mouth like screams. “Feels good, so good.”

“Shit, I know,” he replies through gritted teeth. He knows you love this from the way your heat is gripping him tight as you probably came another time, he can’t even tell it anymore, it’s like you’re going through an eternal orgasm; cunt clenching, body squirming, nails sinking in the sheets under you and moans and curses coming out of your mouth.

Mark wants to make it last longer but your pussy is sucking him in, and he thinks you’re also sucking his life away, and he can’t hold it more, so he comes inside you again.

Your head rolls back and your nails dig into the sheets when you feel another cock slip into you, Jeno. He’s rough, gripping your flesh tightly, slamming you against him, lost in his pleasure.

And then they take turns again, and again, at this point, they’re not even fucking you, they’re just putting the tip in and coming inside, not even that deep as they watch the white, sticky substance drip to your ass, mixing with the one that is slowing dripping out of that hole.

It’s a sick thing. And when you think they can’t do anything worse than that, Jaemin surprises you once again.

Your eyes widen when you feel something soft and wet wrap around your pussy lips and with the little strength left, you take a glimpse at the man buried between your legs.

You want to ask what he’s doing but you’re too tired, too shocked, too…too… is too much to do anything else but let your head fall back and let him do whatever he wants.

“You’re disgusting,” Jeno comments, a grossed-out frown on his face as he looks away from his friend, walking around the bed to reach you on the other side, hard cock in hand as he positions over you, bending his knees on the mattress so he’s at your level.

You look at him with half-lidded eyes and whine when Haechan pulls away from you, leaving your side empty.

“Open up,” Jeno orders and your body follows his order in the blink of an eye. “Can let this mouth empty.”

Jaemin would love to eat you out more, but when Haechan taps his shoulder, he can only take a step back and wait for his turn again.

Your hips buck up when Haechan enters you.

“Fucking finally,” he moans, throwing his head back, feeling your warmth again. He’s not jealous of the others, he kept staring at them going at you for so long and he found it so hot. But he only had two orgasms at the start of the night and he needs to feel you again. “All stretched out and dirty. Such a messy baby. Are you my messy baby?”

You nod, choking on Jeno’s cock, lungs burning up as you feel like all your strength is being sucked —fucked— out of you.

“Fuck,” he hums. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before, can’t believe I let you fool me.”

You don’t answer. You can’t; Jeno’s cock barely makes you breathe as he fucks your mouth with the same strength he fucked your pussy before, and your mind is too broken to let out words that are not slurred or moans.

“Didn’t believe me when I told you this would ease the pain —shit— and now look at you,” Haechan coos, hand reaching your neck, feeling Jeno’s shape on your throat. “If only you took it easier, babe —fuck— could’ve —ugh— could’ve had this long ago.”

You can hear the wet sounds of Mark and Jaemin’s cocks, jacking off swiftly, and you wonder how much more they have to give you and how it doesn’t hurt, because it’s starting to hurt you, it’s starting to truly feel too much. Pleasure getting unbearable, and yet, they seem to still have more.

Haechan pushes your legs up and the sound you make is embarrassing, but nobody in the room truly cares, is not the only dirty sound filling the room. And they are too caught up in their world to even worry about a puff of air and squelches of cum coming out of your used holes.

Jeno pulls out of you, and spit drools out of your mouth as you try to catch your breath.

“Hyuck, close,” you cry, looking at your boyfriend with tears-streaked face, Jeno’s harsh thrust triggering your tears even more. And the sight would be enough to make him come but he needs to try one thing before coming one last time.

“Hyuck, fuck,” you scream when he pushes into your rim, stretching your other hole again after it had relaxed. Why they never warn you when they fuck you there?

“Shut up,” he says, kissing you harshly, shielding you from Jeno that huffs in annoyance. “You took Jaemin, you can take me.”

You nod mindlessly, nails running on his back, leaving red marks behind, and that makes him fuck into you faster. He loves this new side of you, he loves it so much and he wants to see even more. Drag a beast out of you. Turn you into a hunter instead of a prey.

“Do it again,” he orders and at first you don’t get it but then your nails dig into his back again, scratching him more. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, throwing his head back.

A thought about why he wants you to hurt him crosses your mind for a split second but when the nth orgasm washes over you, your mind goes blank again. And Jeno uses your open mouth to fill you with his hard cock. You almost choke at the unexpected intrusion and your eyes widen when you feel two fingers dig into your sopping wet cunt.

Jaemin.

And then a pair of lips on your right nipple.

Mark.

Not only they are fucking you but they are fucking with you.

Do they plan on making you pass out? Because you think you’re really close to that.

You lose the grip on reality after what happens next, their moans get heavier and louder, cum spills on your face as Jeno pulls out of you, so sensitive he falls on the pillow over you. Your boyfriend comes soon after, the sight of Jeno jacking off on your face, painting your skin white, is the last straw, filling your ass, his cum mixing with Jaemin’s that was almost already all out of you. Mark would love to slip into you again but decides to go for another part of your body, using your limp hand to pump his painfully hard cock and come all over your breasts.

You think they’re done, but Jaemin has once again something in store for you.

Your feet plant against the mattress as your hips lift up from it when he starts eating you out, tongue entering your wrecked hole and lips sucking harshly on your clit while one of his hand keeps your body pushed down.

The others look at you two in a drunken, dreamy gaze, they feel too tired, they have no idea how you’re still taking the last thing Jaemin wants to give you. But you do, you’re still moaning, crying and trembling in his hold, chanting his name and curses.

And Jaemin gets drunk in that, slurping the mess on your cunt, leaving open-mouthed kisses, tongue lapping flat at your skin as he eats you out greedily, not caring about his, and his friends’, cum, and his fingers slip inside to push you toward the last orgasm. It’s intense, it freezes your body and makes you go slump against the mattress, whimpering and begging him to stop.

“Fuck,” Jaemin groans, grabbing his cock and masturbating fast, ruining all the job he did to clean you up when he messily comes on your mound, on your thighs, and your tummy. But you’re still beautiful, in all that mess, in all their fucked-up fantasies, you still look so precious and pure. So he takes one last snap as he smiles at you, looking at him through lidded eyes, and he knows you’ll fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

“You’re a fucking dream,” he hums, kissing you, licking off some of Jeno’s cum.

And they all think that too as, too tired to do anything, they collapse next to you.

All of you would’ve thought about the rest tomorrow morning when everything would’ve sunk in, for now, you are letting it drip.

hope you liked it!! let me know with comments, reblogs and asks if you want to ♡

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #mark smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #lee haechan smut #lee mark smut #lee jeno smut #na jaemin smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct scenarios #requests

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lilacmingi · 13 days

Text

OPPOSITES ATTRACT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with ne ir any of my works.

Pairing: Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 4,408

Note: Final installment in the Hogwarts AU series! If you don’t know, the Hogwarts imagines for the other members are linked at the end! Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

Jongho wizzed through the air, holding the Quaffle close to him as he zoomed towards the opposing team's hoops, successfully tossing the ball through the goal, scoring yet again for Gryffindor.

"Yes!" You cheered only to quickly clamp your hand over your mouth afterwards, your outburst earning you some glances from your fellow housemates.

Maybe next time you should sit with the Gryffindors—then again, you'd stand out like a sore thumb. It was hard not to cheer for Jongho. He's the best quidditch player on the whole team, watching him is enough to put you on the edge of your seat. Yes, you two are from opposing houses, but you're the best of friends and you don't let old rivalries stop you from hanging out together.

The game came to a close and Gryffindor took the victory as expected. You had to keep your excitement at bay as you exited the stands to meet with your friend on the ground, holding it in long enough to part ways with the rest of your house.

Jongho approached you looking oh-so-handsome as usual, a thin layer of sweat on his face giving him a post-victory glow.

"That was awesome!" You squeaked.

"It was nothing." He huffed.

"Nothing? Every time I watch you play I'm on the edge of my seat. Honestly, there was a couple times I wasn't sure you'd score, but you pulled through every time."

His warm laughter filled the air as his cheeks turned pink, though that could have just been from all the activity out on the field.

"You act like I'm the best player on the team."

"You are!" You said enthusiastically, giving him a light punch on the arm. "We should celebrate your victory."

"By doing what?"

"We could go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer." You suggested. "My treat."

Jongho's eyes lit up.

He loved butterbeer. You could remember the first time he tried it, the fond memory replaying in your head.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

That heart-melting gummy smile of his broke out on his face as he nodded.

"Sounds good."

You and Jongho had been friends from day one, literally. You met on the train to Hogwarts and he was nervous as ever. He had only just recently found out there was magic in his family lineage and wasn't sure what to expect at Hogwarts as he had only found out it's existence a few weeks prior to the start of he school year.

"I don't know anything about this place and I'm nervous to be away from home for so long."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll have fun, trust me." You told him. "I've been looking forward to this for a whole year. My older cousin told me they have entire feasts at Hogwarts. There's all sorts of food lined up on these really long tables that stretch across almost the entirety of the room."

"Wow. That sounds much better than instant ramen."

"Instant? Muggles have instant ramen?" You asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. It's not instant, it's just made in a shorter amount of time. We don't have magic so we have meals that can be made easily."

"Ooh. How long does it take?"

"Usually about three minutes unless you want to add extra stuff or cook your noodles longer."

"Three minutes is still really quick." You responded. "That's amazing."

"I guess it is." He chuckled.

Jongho thought so-called "muggle" things weren't special. After all, it's just how he goes about daily life, but seeing your reaction was amusing to him.

The both of you became friends very quickly during the duration of the train ride. You even sat together at the sorting hat ceremony, where you briefly explained what would occur.

"I hope we get into the same house together." You remember Jongho saying.

Unfortunately, you got sorted into different houses, you in Slytherin and him in Gryffindor, but that didn't bother you, nor did it stop the both of you from spending time together.

You and Jongho signed up to take a muggle appreciation class together where you paired up with each other since the professor wanted muggles or half-bloods to pair with purebloods. That was one of your favorite classes. You enjoyed learning about how muggles got through everyday life without magic as well as some of the things they had that you didn't, like pens, you found those to be quite fascinating. Your professor had a few and allowed everyone to try them out to see what they thought. You loved the pen and wondered why the school never used them instead of quills.

"You did so good at the game yesterday." You told Jongho.

He smiled, looking down bashfully. "Thanks."

"You're the best quidditch player at Hogwarts." You continued praising him.

Jongho was visibly holding back a bright grin, doing his best to keep it concealed as he fiddled with the packaging of his chocolate frog he purchased from the candy trolley.

"I get so caught up in the game. I'm sure my housemates want to kick me out." You chuckled.

He had seen you cheering him on many times before, even when Slytherin was against Gryffindor. It warmed his heart that you always cheered for him despite being in opposing houses and seeing you in the stands always gave him an energy boost during quidditch games, but he would never say it aloud.

Once you arrived at Hogsmeade, you couldn't contain your excitement, rushing Jongho off the train. He was fairly excited as well, but he wanted to keep his cool, putting on a calm exterior as he followed behind you through the metal archway with the town name on it.

Jongho's eyes glimmered in wonderment as he gazed at all the shops like it was his first time seeing them.

"Here we are." You announced, looking up at the sign for The Three Broomsticks.

Jongho was quick to step ahead of you and hold the door open. It was a small gesture but it made your heart flutter. Stepping inside the tavern, the both of you made your way to the bar, seating yourselves on the wooden stools that lined it. Someone came around shortly and took your orders before grabbing a couple glass steins, filling them with the sweet amber liquid you and Jongho came for.

"Two butterbeers." The barkeep said, setting the glasses down.

You rummaged in your bag and placed enough coins on the tabletop to pay for the beverages.

"Hey." Jongho frowned in disappointment, his hand halfway shoved in his pocket from trying to dig out money to pay himself.

"It's my treat." You smiled, lifting your stein up. "We're celebrating your big win, after all."

Jongho raised his large mug as well, clinking it with yours before taking a few large gulps of the butterscotch-flavored beverage.

Jongho let out an ahh sound, setting his glass down on the bar top. You chuckled softly at the foam that clung to his upper lip which made him look even more adorable than usual.

"What?" He inquired.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured on your own face.

"Oh." He laughed, his ears turning a light shade of pink as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You got hit pretty hard by that one chaser on Slytherin. I thought you were going to get knocked off your broom. Are you alright?"

Jongho instinctively rubbed his shoulder while thinking back on the moment he got rammed in the side by one of Slytherin's chasers the day before.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little sore, but he didn't hit me that hard. It's nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head and stifled a laugh.

Jongho was a tough cookie and a strong person both mentally and physically, but that didn't stop you from checking up on him.

"So, should we shop while we're here?" You inquired before taking another drink of your butterbeer.

You could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at Jongho's lips. He loved Hogsmeade and always seemed so entranced by what it had to offer. Even after all these years you can still see how mesmerized he is by everything.

"We could... you know since we're in town." He responded.

"Alright. We can go wherever you want."

His face lit up at your offer.

Once your glasses had been emptied and your craving for butterbeer had been satiated, you and Jongho set off into Hogsmeade to browse the shops and see what grabbed your attention.

"Could we go into Spintwitches?" He asked you in an almost unsure manner, but you could tell by the gleam in his eye that he really wanted to go.

"Of course. Like I said, we'll go wherever you want."

As soon as you stepped foot in the sporting goods shop, you could see Jongho's face brighten, his eyes darting to all the different displays inside.

"Check it out." He marveled, scurrying over to one of the brooms on display.

Your eyes moved to the card set up with the name written across it.

"Hogwarts House Broom." You read aloud.

"It's enchanted to display the house colors of the owner." Jongho informed.

"Woah."

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

You nodded.

Though you were a pureblood wizard and Jongho was muggle-born, he seemed to have much more knowledge on quidditch than you. He knew anything and everything about types of brooms and what they do, whereas you didn't.

"This one can go up to seventy miles per hour." He pointed. "It's called the Silver Arrow. You see how the broom itself is made to look like an arrow?"

You nodded.

Honestly, you could listen to Jongho talk about brooms all day just to be able to see the enthusiastic expression on his face. Often times you find yourself thinking back on the day you first met him and how nervous he was to be attending Hogwarts. Now, he fits right in.

Jongho continued spouting off facts about each broom while you both perused the store for a few more minutes before deciding to move on.

"Where to next?" He inquired.

"How about Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop?"

He nodded and you both made your way in that direction.

Upon entering the quaint shop, the scent of parchment and ink reached your senses, a content smile settling onto your features. Displayed on the shelves were different quills that ranged in appearance. Some had fluffy, white feathers while others were flat with patterns on them. Your attention was drawn to a stunning peacock quill, the vibrant array of colors piquing your interest.

You had always been drawn to the captivating quill ever since you enrolled at Hogwarts years ago. Though with its flamboyant appearance, you had passed on buying one, not wanting to cause a distraction during class.

"I never really cared for quills." Jongho commented. "They're difficult to use and you have to keep dipping it in ink."

"Yeah, I can't understand why the school would still want to use them when there are things like pens."

"Ah." He chuckled, thinking back on when your professor for muggle appreciation class allowed everyone to try one out. "You were mesmerized by those things."

"How could I not be? They're much more convenient than a quill. You don't have to constantly dip it in ink."

"Stopping to dip your quill in ink seems like a waste of time if you think about how many times you have to do it during one class period." Jongho mentioned.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I didn't even think about that."

A small laugh of amusement slipped out of Jongho as he shook his head. Seeing you getting fired up about pens versus quills was entertaining to him.

Moving right along, you started browsing the parchment and notebooks stacked on a shelf. One in particular had caught your eye and had you walking over to it, picking it up from the stack. You ran the pads of your fingers over the intricate embossed design in the leather of the notebook, tracing the swirls and curls on the cover. You enjoyed journaling and writing down good and exciting things that have happened to you, even sometimes writing down bad things just to vent your emotions. The pages in the current notebook you owned were only halfway filled, so there was no need to purchase the one you held in your hands, but it sure was pretty. Maybe you'd come back for it later when you needed a new journal.

You proceeded to the next display, perusing the items for a few moments before noticing Jongho's absence. He was standing with you when you first entered the store, but now you weren't sure where he had wandered off to.

After searching the shop for about a minute, you found Jongho looking at an inkwell filled with rainbow ink, turning the small glass jar around in his hand with a confused pout on his pretty lips that had your heart doing front flips.

"Do people actually use this?" He asked once you were close enough to hear him.

"Only for fun or pranks. It's not really suitable for classwork."

"Ah." He placed it back on the shelf. "People here seem to love their jokes. Prank quills, prank socks, a prank shop."

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Some people do. You'd be surprised how good business is at Zonko's."

"Are you ready to go?" Jongho asked, looking to see that you didn't have anything in your hands.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything."

"Alright. Moving on, then."

Your day at Hogsmeade was a lot of fun. You had stayed in town so long that you decided to grab lunch. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Jongho had paid for your meal, which you shyly thanked him for. At the end of the day, you each left town with a bag of sweet treats from Honeydukes and a new piece of clothing from Gladrags. Jongho found a nice jacket and you managed to snag a pair of pants you had your eye on for a while.

"Thanks for taking me out today." Jongho told you on your walk back to the school.

"It was nothing. I wanted to celebrate your big win, plus I needed a day out. Can't be focused on studies all the time."

"Right." He chuckled.

Once inside the castle, the both of you parted ways to head to your respective dormitories, Jongho standing in the hallway for a moment, watching you walk away.

I should have said something. He thought to himself. It would have been the perfect opportunity. He let out a short huff of disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Jongho took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had gone over everything at least a hundred times.

"Just say what you need to say. It's no big deal."

Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous and brave, but Jongho was currently lacking that trait. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings to you, but all he could think about was the many ways you'd reject him:

"I only see you as a friend."

"I like someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel the same."

"I don't date muggles."

He groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. It shouldn't be this big of a deal.

If only he had something that could help him out, give him that little boost of courage he needed.

Then, suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. A bravery potion. That's it! He knew how to make that. He just learned it a few weeks ago in potions class. Pulling out his cauldron, he went through the ingredients he remembered were used in the concoction, pulling them out and lining them along the desk.

Less than an hour later, he held a glass bottle in his hands, swirling the liquid around inside while examining it. He had never taken a potion before and was a little nervous, but he needed this. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to confess properly unless he had just a little bit of courage.

"I hope this works." He murmured before downing the potion.

You were walking down the hallway when Jongho came around the corner with a little pep in his step. It was evening and classes were over for the day, so you assumed that's why he appeared so chipper.

"There you are, pretty."

Your body stiffened, your heart leaping at the unexpected nickname.

"Pretty?" You whispered under your breath.

As soon as you were within reach, Jongho took hold of your hand and rubbed his thumb affectionately across your knuckles.

"I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."

"We do?" You questioned. "About what?"

"Follow me."

Jongho led you down the stone corridors of the castle until you arrived at a somewhat secluded area of the school that was, for the moment, free of any students or teachers.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, mildly concerned that he needed to discuss something serious with you.

"You're so beautiful." He sighed out, ignoring your question. "Have I ever told you that?"

Your eyes widened as a faint warmth touched your cheeks. "No."

"You are. Y/n, you are so stunning."

What's with the sudden compliments?

Jongho gazed at you dreamily. "You make my heart race every time I'm near you and when I see you in the crowd at quidditch games cheering for me, it makes me feel so giddy I can't even explain it. Sometimes I wish I could run up to you after a successful game and kiss you. I'd lift you off your feet and spin you around just like in the movies."

"Jongho." You uttered in disbelief.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

You could see the look in his eyes and tell by the way he was sputtering all of these confessions that something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I'm fine." He giggled. "Better than ever."

You pressed your lips together in concern, cupping his cheeks to examine him.

"Please kiss me, Y/n."

You gasped softly at the request, your cheeks set ablaze. Oh how you wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to lock lips with him right then and there, but this wasn't right.

"What did you do, Jongho?" You asked.

"My name sounds so nice coming from your mouth, pretty." He sighed out.

"Jongho."

He giggled in response.

"What did you take?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an empty bottle, handing it to you. You brought it to your nose, sniffing it, the scent of bubblegum reaching your senses.

Babbling Beverage.

"Jongho." You groaned. "What have you done?"

"It's a bravery potion, Y/n. No need to worry." He smiled almost drunkenly.

"This isn't a bravery potion, this is a Babbling Beverage. It makes you speak nonsense."

He scoffed in offense. "I'm not speaking nonsense."

"Come here." You brought him over to the corner of the secluded hallway, so you'd have a little more privacy.

"Are you mad at me?" Jongho asked.

"No, but why did you do it?"

"I wanted to confess to you but I was too scared. Isn't that silly? You told me Gryffindors are brave, and I usually am, but not today." He rested his head against the wall. "I needed something to help me so I brewed a bravery potion—or at least I thought it was."

"You... wanted to confess to me?"

"Yes. I like you so much, Y/n. You're so beautiful and funny and kind and you made me feel so welcomed on that very first train ride to Hogwarts. You were the first friend I ever made."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words. Though he was under the influence of a potion, his words seemed genuine.

Jongho took his bag off, letting it fall to the ground as he stepped closer to you.

"I want to kiss you so badly." He murmured.

"I'm not sure that's a good ide-" Your sentence went unfinished as he gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Staring into his captivating eyes, you found yourself wanting to give in, your gaze darting down to his pouty lips and imagining how soft they probably felt. Having his face so dangerously close to yours had you wanting to throw caution to the wind.

"Can I?" He asked.

The tone of his voice was so soft yet temping at the same time. Without mulling it over any further, you nodded.

Jongho didn't let another second pass before his lips landed on yours—and yes, they were soft. Right away, you reciprocated his actions, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His fingers released your chin, moving to the back of your neck to pull you even closer, the action also causing your lips to press further into his. You could feel every dip and curve of his mouth, the sensation making your closed eyelids flutter. Your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, latched onto his shoulders, staying there for only a few moments before your fingers slid into his hair. Jongho's arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You gasped at his action, noting how strong he was and how tightly he was holding you against him with just one arm.

It was clear Jongho was starting to get comfortable as his kisses got more heated and somewhat sloppy. He began nipping lightly at your bottom lip, letting out quiet sighs when your nails grazed the nape of his neck.

"Keep doing that, pretty." He exhaled against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and a rush of butterflies to your abdomen.

You boldly grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it an experimental tug, a quiet groan from him vibrating against your lips immediately after. His hand that was cupping the back of your neck dropped to your waist, squeezing your hip tightly. He then took a step forward, backing you against the stone wall behind you.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt of this." He murmured, placing a kiss on your jawline

Heavy breaths escaped your lips, your chest heaving up and down while attempting to catch your breath. You had no idea Jongho could kiss so passionately... or boldly, and you were pleasantly surprised by this discovery.

"You're not the only one." You confessed.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze.

"I'm not?"

"No."

Jongho knew when you kissed back that it more than likely meant you felt the same about him as he does you, but hearing you practically confess had him reeling. He wanted to hear more.

"It's probably obvious at this point, but I'm head over heels for you, Jongho."

Still under the influence of the potion, Jongho blurted the first thought in his head.

"I love the way you say my name."

His lips were on yours again, hot and heavy. His kisses were desperate and fast-paced, making you weak in the knees. The Babbling Beverage made one speak nonsense and didn't have an effect on how they kissed, so this was all Jongho.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his robes, fisting the fabric in desperation while he practically devoured you.

It was at that moment, your foot bumped something on the floor which caused you to part ways. Glancing down, you found Jongho's bag that had been discarded only a few moments earlier lying on its side with something sticking out of it.

"What's this?" You asked, reaching for the object that had fallen out of his bag. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around the it, a sprig of lavender tucked into the bow knotted neatly in the middle.

"Oh." The look on his face told you that it was something you weren't supposed to see.

The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off as he dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I was supposed to give that to you first, before I confessed." He grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

When he lifted his head, he saw that you were smiling.

"You got me something?"

"Yeah, but I messed it all up. I had a plan. Give you the gift, then confess. That stupid potion." He muttered the last part.

He only wanted something to give him a tiny boost of courage and instead he made the wrong thing and made himself babble like a fool. Then again, he did have an incredible makeout session with you, so did everything really go wrong?

"Here." He picked up the item and handed it to you.

You carefully took the gift from him, running your fingertips over the lavender.

"You wrapped it yourself?"

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

Plucking the sprig of lavender out of the twine, you undid the knot and pulled back the wrapping. Inside was the leather-bound journal you were admiring at Scrivenshaft's just a day ago.

A quiet gasp left your lips. "How did you know?"

As far as you were aware, Jongho had been looking at inkwells when you were perusing the journals.

"I saw you eyeing it in the shop." He responded, holding back a grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

"Thank you." You embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Also, don't worry about how things went today. I think everything turned out perfect. And if I'm being honest, I really enjoyed that little kiss we shared."

"Little?" He raised a brow.

"Okay, not so little."

"I'd be happy to do it again." He grinned, leaning forward only for you to press your finger to his lips, halting his actions.

"Maybe later. I heard some voices down the hall a few seconds ago. Don't wanna get caught."

He pouted, his pillowy lips pressing against your index finger. Unable to resist his puffed out cheeks and pleading eyes, you let out a short sigh, caving immediately.

"We can go to the library. We're less likely to get caught there."

Jongho nodded vigorously in agreement, taking your hand and pulling you down the corridors towards the library, eager to lock lips with you once again.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung

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pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

Intimacy shared in the wild

synopsis: you and your lover have a steamy moment outside PART 2

pairing: Albedo, Dainsleif, Venti, Xiao (separately) x fem!reader

tw: established relationship, very much suggestive

word count: 4.5k+ words in total

author’s note: you can check part 1 here and part 3 here!

Albedo

You really weren’t supposed to get caught in a blizzard while staying on Dragonspine. While the place by all means is very cold it is still tolerable if the right warm clothes are chosen to be worn. However once the strong wind comes into picture, lifting the snow in the air and biting at your skin even through layers of clothing - you have little to help it.

You feel pretty lucky though, since the weather worsened when you and your boyfriend had already reached his camp and gotten inside the cave. Having put collected stuff on one of the tables, Albedo motioned you to light some more campfires and drop some melting powders in the back of the cave, where the snow had gotten and solidified into ice.

When the task is finished and you turn around, the alchemist has already made use of his abilities and created something akin to a wall, blocking the raging wind and decreasing the chance of frost coming at you.

“That should be enough to keep us warm and safe,” he hums, giving the wall an assessing look and staying content with the result.

“For h-how long d-do you think we’ll b-be staying here?” you have to admit you are a little bit jealous of your lover - wearing his usual outfit - that doesn’t look all that heat-keeping - he isn’t fazed by the cold, not even in the slightest! Meanwhile you, dressed in a fur-lined coat, can’t stop your teeth from chattering. Arms wrapped tight around your body, you use your feet to drag a chair closer to one of the campfires, hoping to warm up at least a little bit.

“Taking into consideration my previous experiences it can take from a couple of hours to the morning of the next day,” with swift motions the hands of the scientist sort through the things he left on the table. You glance his way and then back to staring at the dancing flames that were too and yet not close enough to you.

“Oh, g-great!” If you could, you would throw your arms up, but it might cost you some of the so needed warmth. You two are stuck, no way you are walking back to the city with zero visibility, and as far as you know this place isn’t packed with a place to sleep. Comfortably sleep.

“Don’t sit this close to the fire, the fur on your sleeves or the hem may catch it,” Albedo walks past you carrying some vials and ingredients to the shelves.

“Well, sorry, but I am cold!” you can’t help but complain, yet still move your chair back a little. Maybe you should also try and move around? Not to mention Albedo can possibly need some help.

However, before you have an opportunity to act upon your decision, a rustling sound catches your attention. The man has already tended to his task and is now bent down over one of the wooden boxes in the corner of the room, fishing one after another three thick blankets out.

“We keep those here just in case of a predicament like now,” he explains, laying one blanket on the floor not so far from another campfire and then flicking his wrist in your direction. Getting the hint and a bit intrigued, you leave your place and hurry to him just as he puts one more blanket in a heap down on the first and holds the last one up.

“Undress.”

“Excuse me?” with widened eyes you stare at the pretty much serious-looking male.

“Your clothes are still wet from the snow you’ve fallen into and the chill has reached underneath, so just sitting near the fire won’t help. We’ll exercise the skin to skin contact to keep you warm and get your clothes dry.”

“So you mean… We are gonna cuddle naked?” While stunned and a bit shy, you still drag your gloves off and start working on your buttons.

“I’ve never thought of it this way,” he considers the notion behind your words and then suddenly smiles. “Well, if it is you, it is indeed cuddling. It sounds nice.”

Fighting the sudden blush creeping onto your cheeks, you finally discard your clothes, leaving just your bra and panties on. Albedo is quick to wrap you in a blanket and set down, starting to work on his clothes next.

Not a minute later you find yourself seated in his lap, face to face, chest to chest, both of you securely enveloped in two blankets. Surprisingly the man emits warmth just like a regular human, and you happily snuggle into his embrace, relaxing.

“Better now?” he asks softly, keeping his palms on your sides, rubbing thumbs up and down them.

“Yeah, it is. Though I would really like it warmer,” you admit. Of course you do not expect anything, it is already nicer than it was before, but suddenly one hand leaves your side and wraps around your covered breast. “A-albedo?” your breath hitches when your eyes meet his - pure and crystalin they are examining your face.

“I can manipulate some reactions in your body with my touch to increase the temperature. If you allow me, of course.” Well, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Actually it sounds… exciting.

The next twenty minutes are filled with wet open-mouthed kisses, groping, grinding and arousing each other with the softest and neediest sounds you both produce. The straps of your bra have fallen off your shoulders, breasts nearly spilling out of cups into his attentive hands, both of your underwear now have dark spots on your crotches, because you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your aching pussy on him. His cheeks are flushed a pretty tint of pink and you know, yours are no better. Your lips look like art - swollen and glistening, and Albedo can’t get enough of them.

The heat is already enough as it is, even the comforters slid down to your waists, you can stop-

“Why don’t you warm my insides too,” you whisper breathlessly after yet another kiss and your lover grabs at your hips, bringing your body even closer.

You do not want to stop.

Dainsleif

"I assure you, there is no need," the serious look on your travel companion slash unexpectedly acquired lover's face would've discouraged anyone who had dared to ask him for something. Yet you are not anyone and you are not backing off, especially not in a situation like this.

"Come on, Twilight Sword, it's been days since we left the inn and who knows how much time- no, stop, don't say that, I know you are aware of where what is located and how long it'd take to arrive - that's not the point now! What is the point however is the perfect opportunity handed to us by nature - where and when else would you find a lake as clear and not as chilly as this at night in the area with no monsters spotted in sight. I do not tell you to relax, since you don't know how, yeah, we figured it out, note long ago taken, just please, take a freaking bath! Well, more like a dive to clean up, but I think you got the concept."

The man before you sighs, bringing his hand to the temple and massaging it like you've just given him the worst headache he's had in the last five hundred years. You mirror the pose he loves to use - crossing your arms on your chest - and direct a piercing gaze at him. Seriously, no need to be so dramatic, Captain, it’s gotten old one hundred years ago.

“It’s been just a couple of days since we left the said inn. I do not see the point in it, given we haven’t done much fighting lately.”

“Oh, so you want me to give you a good reason why you should?” the blonde stares at you with zero amusement written on his face, choosing to cross his arms as well.

“Well, you may try,” oh, is that a challenge? You gladly accept it.

"What if I said it's because I want to finally have sex with you?" The dark mystically blue eyes widen at your bold statement and thin lips part. You just roll your eyes - why would you hit around the bush when you’ve known each other longer than a human being lives and has been intimate more times you can count. "Back in the inn, when we had a bed and a bath within our reach, you, all of the sudden, decided it was just the right time to start collecting and processing new information about the Abyss Order, ignoring all of my attempts. Okay, maybe hints really do not work with you, so I am saying it now - I am frustrated and have been so for the past couple of weeks or maybe a month."

"And you think sex would cure your frustration?" Dainsleif manages to get a hold of himself and asks curiously, eyeing the robe you are wearing. Unlike him you’ve taken your chance to wash the moment you arrived at the lake and set the camp. By now your hair has almost dried.

"Well, I think so, if you make sure to thrust it out of my body. My own fingers can't do the job properly.”

You fall silent. Dainsleif is looking at you without a word uttered as well, processing the information presented to him. Your relationship, while established, isn’t anything like normal couples have. At first bonded over the fact your homeland was destroyed and you both were doomed to lead this miserable cursed existence, you progressed to become something more than acquaintances, more than friends. He’d be a liar if he said your moments of affection and intimacy didn’t light up his days, making everything more bearable and that sometimes he didn’t miss the smallest touches of yours, even if it’s just your hands brushing against each other while walking.

Scanning the area around and carefully listening to the sounds in the night, the tall man sighs, reaching to take his clothes piece by piece without commenting on it. The look on your face tells him you are surprised he didn’t put up a further fight, but then you grin gleefully, uncrossing your arms and stepping closer. There is a soft hand on his jaw and a kiss planted to the corner of his mouth as you take a hold of a cape he hands you.

Everything is silent while he fully disrobes, letting you take care of his clothes, and steps into water. You weren’t lying when you said it was not as chilly as one would expect in the dark time of the day. Dainsleif walks further and further, until it reaches his waist, and only then starts tending to himself. Sometimes he can’t believe it - how you have your way with him, convincing to join you in many of your affairs, but often doing the same for him. Maybe that’s what it’s like to be in a relationship...

From the corner of his eye he sees how you take a seat on a big stone on the shore, legs crossed, toes grazing the lake surface, arms supporting your body behind you and head tilted back. He is sure you are watching the stars again, so he pays it no mind, diving and scooping water on himself to properly wash.

Until suddenly you giggle. The man turns and looks at you in confusion, hand freezing on the shoulder he was rubbing. Your gaze is back on him and even in the dark he can swear there is a mischievous glint behind your irises.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” you shake your head, returning to your entertainment. “Just remembered how a decade - I think? - ago you railed me right against the Statue of the Seven. Whose was that? Morax’s?”

“Barbatos’,” the memory flashed before his eyes. Not of the statue but of the heated and absolutely lewd face, of your nails biting in his shoulder blades and your heels digging in the small of his back all the while his cock was drilling in your pussy on the sheer power of irritation. Dainsleif feels himself getting harder at the image, hand sliding from his shoulder, down his chest and torso until it disappears under water.

“Oh yeah, right! You’ve returned from your outing to Mondstadt quite disgruntled, because people of the City of Freedom were singing praises to the useless Archon. By the way… Wait, when have you-”

He appeared in front of you so suddenly and you didn’t even notice! His lips silence you, his fingers reach to the front of your robe, opening it right on your chest. Uncovered breasts bounce as he grabs your knees and opens your legs for his body to take place between them.

“Getting all worked up, huh, Captain?” a breathless chuckle ghosts against his lips and your eyes are shining brighter than any star from above. So it was your attempt to turn him on? Well then...

“Isn’t it what you’ve desired for so long, hm?” he lowly murmurs and, not waiting for an answer, brings his mouth down the side of your neck. One hand travels from your knee and right to the thigh, tracing the pattern so similar to the one on his arm and getting the robe out of the way. Distracted, you barely have time to brace yourself for what happens next.

He kneels before you. In the past no one would’ve believed, you included, that centuries later The Twilight Sword, the Captain of the Royal Guard, the pride of Khaenri’ah, would be kneeling before your spread legs, almost too eagerly throwing them over his shoulders and diving right between your plush thighs.

The first sweet cry breaks the serenity of the night, and from how feverishly he is lapping at your already wet folds added to your past experiences you know - it’s not the last one.

Venti

Gleeful laughter fills the summer air, dissolving into a sweet song, carried away by the wind. Two voices, akin to a gentle breeze, dance against the tough scales of a dragon body, reminding of a free-spirited nature of their owners.

Your lips are stretched in a smile and Venti can’t help but feel happy - you haven’t seen each other in two thousand years, yet you haven’t changed at all. Neither the human form you’ve chosen, nor the smallest traits of your character have sharpened or faded away. You are the same as he remembers you, and he hopes you are of a similar opinion about him.

From the very moment when you arrived in Mondstadt and found him the Anemo Archon has been practically glued to you. So many years passed, so many things happened - there were lots of stories to be told, lots of memories to reminisce about. And when he told you about Dvalin and the whole story, you only smiled and said:

Well, that’s why I am back. The rumors traveled all the way to Fontain where I’ve been residing for some time. I kind of hoped it meant you are finally awake from your slumber, so I decided to visit and see for myself!

Venti felt touched after your admission. It’s undeniably nice when someone still keeps you in their memory and is looking forward to reunion. Even more splendid is that this someone is you, a long-time friend, an everlasting lover, who understands the freedom-loving god, as you too used to be just a little minor elemental spirit, who gained your power during the war, when people were willing to believe in anyone just to keep themselves hopeful and sane.

The story of your meeting is for another time of recollection Venti decided and invited you to take a ride on Dvalin, to recall what it’s like to be up in the skies and share the feeling of tranquility with you.

The beautiful dragon agreed without second thought, ready to help his friend and the one he knew Barbatos held dear to his heart. It’s been almost an hour already with your bodies resting against the enormous creature’s wide back, absolutely undisturbed with how smoothly the Dragon of the East has been gliding above the clouds.

There has been laughter, there have been teasing remarks that turned into fooling around (which nearly cost Venti his beret) and play-fighting each other until the male ended up on top of you, making himself incredibly comfortable there with no plans to roll off.

“Ah~ I missed this,” he murmurs contently, burying his face between your breasts, eliciting a chuckle out of your throat, and Archons is it melodical to his ears.

“Sure you did, my gentle spirit,” fingers run through his smooth short black strands at the base, and the bard hums, pressing a quick kiss to your left soft mound.

“Hm? Are you not wearing anything under your blouse?” curious aqua green eyes stare at you as an elegantly thin digit carefully pokes at your covered flesh. You watch him in amusement as he is waiting for an answer all the while trying to figure out if he has gotten it all wrong or he is actually correct.

“Kind of yes and no,” you finally say, noticing how his brows knit in confusion. Adorable.

“What do you mean? How it can be yes and no in a case like this,” Venti slightly lifts his upper body, redirecting his eyes at your chest. The whole situation is sinfully entertaining and you almost sigh in bliss - you missed moments like this, each and every one fondly kept in your mind.

“Why don’t you unbutton it and find out yourself?” What you both have in common is the lack of shame - doesn’t matter you kind of have a third person here, you don't even think the dragon can hear anything with wind carrying all the sounds in the opposite of the dragon’s head direction. The mirth, an ever present companion of the Anemo Archon whenever you see him, dances in his gem-like eyes. This man doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Don’t mind if I do ehe~” deft fingers start working on your buttons the moment permission is given. At this point he’s straddling your hips with your hands resting on his own, patiently waiting and observing his clothes you’ve taken notice of the very first day, but never having an opportunity to comment on it.

“I must admit your new outfit is quite cute. Suits you well, my dear poet.”

“Hehe, I know, I quite like it myself too,” with a wink he bends down and smooches your cheek, then attacking your nose to which you respond by rubbing yours against his, pouring your voices in a new fit of giggles.

“How humble of you,” a teasing lilt is what Venti loves about your voice, even more he loves you spilling praises and pretty moans, but this song of yours is for later.

Buttons are finally undone, and the blouse is wide open, letting the man finally get a view of his favorite girls. There is confusion again written all over his pretty face and you decide to explain for the sake of the peace of his mind.

“This is a cupless bra. It is just enough to support my breasts from an unnecessary amount of bouncing while these pasties conceal my nipples and prevent them from poking through the thin material of my clothes.”

“Ho~? The Y/N I remember was never bothered with things like this,” leaving the hems of your garment alone, hands experimentally cup the soft flesh, testing the nip covers that appear to be as smooth as your skin.

“As much as I love attention to my persona, I was on a mission to not get laid before I reunited with my favorite Archon~ Besides… Why would I need cups when your palms are perfectly fine for the job?”

Oh, there is absolutely no hint of modesty behind your words or actions, not when you look at him with sultry eyes and let your hands wander to his behind and up the back, right to the strings of his corset. He loves it, it excites him, you excite him, and that’s the feeling he would hardly trade if the whole Dawn Winery is offered to him.

“Do I ask Dvalin to land and we go somewhere more private?”

“Mm, sounds like a perfect plan for me.”

Xiao

Even adepti face opponents that are hard to take down. Even adepti can make a mistake and end up injured, the only difference is, they are more likely to survive it like nothing.

You are even luckier, having the Conqueror of Demons as your partner for life, who appeared the moment his name left your lips and striked down the monster that, as you assumed, was a product of the fallen Archon’s hatred and had escaped from the place of its eternal imprisonment.

At first everything was under your control, really. But then at some point the abominable shit started creating an annoyingly big number of minions, making your work so much harder. They weren’t long-lasting, but the damage was quite palpable, since they tried to at least scratch or spit venom at you before dissipating into nothing under your weapon.

Were you reckless to fight on your own after an exhausting week of monster slaughter? Possibly, because said venom soon added to it and made your mind hazy and disrupted your coordination, which, eventually, allowed the current monster to leave a gash on your side with its enormous claws.

Thank Rex Lapis it didn’t paralyze anything in your body and you managed to call for Xiao. Good thing the enemies were solely focused on you, it allowed to use yourself as a bait while a suddenly appeared Yaksha swished his spear with the speed of a tornado, getting rid of the hindrances.

You are sure he was grambling and probably even hissing at you for being an idiot, but it was all swallowed by the fog in your head. The only things that surely happened were his arms, tightly wrapped around you and the whoosh of his teleportation.

Which brought you here, back to the territory of the adepti. Of course you would’ve survived in any case, the venom and the wound weren’t enough to kill you, but, as Cloud Retainer later noted to you, Xiao looked quite disheveled with worry etched in his eyes, appearing before her with you in his arms and asking permission to use the healing lake of her domain.

It was three days ago. Every morning and evening you would go to the lake and spend a couple of hours in its water, surrounded by tranquility and a comforting feeling of peace. The place is all yours, as the gracious white crane departed to the deepest part of her residence for the time being, only wishing for your speedy recovery. The rest of the time is spent in meditation - after all, not only the physical half of you needs repose, the mental one does as well.

Xiao hasn’t been present for those past three days. Not sure if it is his way to give you a silent treatment for being imprudent or he is simply busy with new demon outbreaks, you just concentrate on getting better and waiting for the moment when you can express your gratitude.

Of course you aren’t expecting visitors, as you comb through your hair, stepping out of the water this evening. The droplets quickly cool on your skin from the chilly evening air entering the vast space. You shiver a little - the warmth of your body contrasts with surrounding coolness, sending a small jolt of strange pleasure through your senses. Ah, seems your body has been neglected for so long if it reacts to the smallest of stimulations like that. It would be wonderful to have your lover here to caress your aching breasts and push a hand between your clenched thighs.

As if Celestia heed you, out of nowhere a soft touch is laid upon your side - the one where the wound used to be. Whipping your head to the right you are met with the sight of the Vigilant Yaksha, examining the spot near your ribs and, thankfully, finding nothing.

“It’s gone,” he comments, drawing his hand back to his side and redirecting bright amber intense gaze to your surprised one.

“You are back,” it seems like you both state the most obvious things and in your head it sounds so hilarious. Releasing a breath you weren’t aware of holding, you turn to face him properly. He looks decent, no visible injuries, not a trace of exhaustion - if anything, he looks so serious, and the focused expression on his handsome face lurs a giggle out of your mouth.

“Birdie, I envy you,” confusion shrouds his pointy gaze. “I wish I could too stay completely unfazed whenever I see you naked,” the very same gaze skips down your body and it is as if realization suddenly hits him. The expression remains stoic, but you know better than that. Fingers brush some locks away and here it is - pink dusting the tip of his ear. Adorable.

“If you are going to tease me, I’ll leave,” the man warns. You quickly shake your head, letting go of him.

“No, please, stay. I missed you and I wanted to thank you for saving me,” before you can retreat your hand completely his grabs and envelopes it in a tight hold. Meeting his eyes once again you are reassured - he is not going anywhere.

“It’s nothing. I am glad you are fine in the end. And… I missed you too.”

This admission thrills you like it’s the first time he’s ever spoken of any of his feelings for you. The arm that wraps around your waist and brings you closer feels electrifying - and your lover’s Vision is Anemo. With one phrase, with one simple touch you suddenly become aware how needy your body is for him too.

Xiao feels it. He senses your excitement and the smallest trembles under his fingertips. You are clearly aroused, with that sultry look on your face, stiff nipples that ask for his attention and the faint smell of your slick that reaches his nose. If he could get just a taste…

You sigh sweetly, when he cups your left breast and licks the side of your neck. Thumb rolls your bud and you whine from the feeling of his glove rubbing against sensitive areola. The arm still wrapped around your waist is holding your body upright and you are reminded again of his strength. It takes a suck on your collarbone and a tug on your nip for your knees to buckle and a strangled cry fall from your unkissed lips, making both of you aware - none of you will stop now, neither you, aroused and shaking in his arms, nor him, feeling hunger for you rising in the pit of his stomach.

“Xiao, let’s go somewhere else, I do not want to disturb Cloud Retainer with what’s everything is leading to.”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even take his mouth and hands off of you, letting the light of teleportation spell envelop you and your clothes abandoned a couple of feet away. With a whoosh, in which your moan blends, the two adepti are gone from the domain.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo x fem!reader #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x fem!reader #venti x reader #venti x fem!reader #xiao x reader #xiao x fem!reader #albedo kreideprinz #dainsleif #genshin venti #adeptus xiao #genshin impact smut #moonlit pearl stories

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captain-mj · 5 months

Note

Hiii i wanted to ask If you want to make a Part 3 to the Alien Thing (SoapGhostRoach)

maybe Roach or Soap find out that Ghost is in his mateing phase and want to see what that does to him?

Or maybe Roach still needs more infos so He takes... a closer look at Soap and Ghost?

Yeah I can write another part for it

Part 1 Part 2

Soap had been thinking recently. On his planet, interspecies relationships (from his own planet, not others) were fine as long as they weren't serious. His planet was an anomaly in that no predator species really thrived so most species looked a lot like him with only very small differences. None had managed to get sentience at the very least. It was part of what made his new... partners so exotic he supposed. Nothing like it from where he was from.

Sex was treated differently as well. It was common to have casual sex since interbreeding was impossible. He had long since understood that with Roach, monogamy was more serious. Though harems occasionally existed throughout their history, it did not seem the natural state of them, as they paired up more often than not. There were so many rules to their courting. Dates, something called third base and also asking permission from your partner's family. It was all so strange.

Then there was also a matter of Ghost. His species also used to have harems, though they never quite left it.

The part that Soap had been entertained by was that it was not based on sex or gender. Or even species. They had been building harems of their own species for years before they started going out and exploring the universe. Soap had been surprised when Ghost had been so insistent about their rules around consent. Anyone else, he may have assumed it was naivety, but with Ghost? He believed him. To take away one's choice was an act punished by the worst thing they could due to each other.

Tear the criminal to shreds publicly.

Ghost had proudly told them he had been a part of some of those trials and Roach and Soap had almost started salivating.

Today, Soap and Roach were anxious. Something had happened. Something never before seen or heard of.

Ghost took vacation time.

It wasn't much, just three days, but it wasn't even while they were on a planet!! They were just on ship!

Roach had never seen Ghost take off work. Most people refused to take work off while the ship was moving anyway because there was usually next to nothing to do for long periods of time, so this was extra strange.

Soap hummed. "Maybe we should bring him something? He has to be sick if he's taking off, does his species have an equivalent to salad?"

Roach thought it was very fun Soap would consider salad a food for sick people, but decided he could ask more about that later. "Humans do soup. Would his version be something with raw meat? Seems the best for him."

They put their brain cells together and brought him a steak. Was it unoriginal? yes, but sick people don't need fancy stuff.

Roach went in to his chambers first, one of the few people to have a master key. He went to announce his presence, Soap close behind, but both quickly shut up.

Ghost held the pillow tight over his face. There was no way he could breath easily based on the death grip he had on it. His other hand was furiously jacking off.

It was the most vocal either had seen him. He whimpered and whined and barked just loud enough to get it through the pillow.

"You called off work to jerk off?" Soap joked, though he was now bright red.

Ghost sluggishly reacted to them. He moved the pillow. Beautiful maskless face on display. There was a layer of exhaustion to him that was abnormal. "Fuck off. I was finally fucking close." He sounded miserable, head thrown back. His hand stopped though and he rolled his wrist to get the soreness out.

Roach swallowed, feeling a tiny bit out of his depth. "You okay?"

"Mating season." Ghost hissed at them, tail thrashing angrily. "Please, neither of you are going to want to be around me for the next two days so just get lost." He finally got the idea to cover his body up.

His hand started up again and it was clear the way he was doing it, this had been going on a while and his frustration was mounting.

Roach and Soap exchanged glances. Actually making eye contact.

Soap nodded at the door and Roach locked it. He turned around to see Soap slowly joining Ghost, taking the pillow from his face. Ghost looked at him, groaning.

"Please don't torture me, Johnny." His voice was barely above a growl now. He couldn't imagine the amount of strength to simply put the words together.

Soap put his hands on Ghost's shoulder. "Don't worry, Simon. Just want to help you out."

No sooner had he gotten the words out did Ghost flip them over. He fucked between Soap's thighs, pressing them both tight into the mattress until it was hard for Soap to breath.

Ghost rutted between his thighs until he finally, finally came. He groaned with pleasure and kissed Soap breathless. "Thank you, thank you, fucking hell. I'll do anything just keep letting me do this." His hips only stuttered before continuing.

Roach hummed. "Ghost. You told me that your mating season had minimal effect on you. I would say this is not minimal effect."

Ghost groaned. "It's hitting a bit hard this year, I'll admit."

Soap purred. "Can't say I mind. I have some time I can put in. If you need to be coddled."

Ghost growled but Soap squeezed his thighs and quickly shut him up. He rested his head on Soap. "I do..."

"You do what?"

"...need to be coddled. I thought I'd be fine but please, I need help." He sounded so sad and miserable.

Roach gently ran his fingers through his hair. "You should've said something. We could've helped you." He glanced at Soap's face. "Happily."

Ghost whined. "It's improper. I'm rutting against you like a fucking..." He buried his face in Soap's neck.

Roach hummed. "Continue. Please. I have notes to..."

Ghost groaned. "Gary... please... Can you just pretend you like me? No fucking experiments."

Roach paused. He almost said something, though he wasn't sure what words he could possibly string together. Maybe an apology? He never intended to make Ghost feel that way! Though maybe he should've realized sooner.

But before he could get it out, Soap was turning Ghost of him. "Hey now. You poor thing. What gave you that idea?"

Ghost huffed and his tail lashed. "You two are quite a bit more compatible than I am..." He yanked Soap up and buried his face in his chest. "I'm not like either of you guys."

Roach quickly joined him and kissed Ghost's face all over. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry."

They quickly managed to pin Ghost down and Roach kissed him gently. "I have some vacation time. We'll all put it in. Promise. I think I have some things i need to make up to you."

Ghost relaxed and nodded, panting. "Please..."

They took turns stepping away to inform their respective bosses. Neither wanted Ghost to be alone too long. Roach pushed Ghost so he was laying down and he started to ride him, cupping Ghost's face and smiling at him. He maintained eye contact and if he thought Ghost was gone before, it was nothing compared to now. His pupils expanded until they almost took up the color.

"Course I love you, Simon. Thought you knew that." Roach ground down and Ghost growled, yanking him closer.

"You guys aren't going to be able to walk for the next week."

"I look forward to it."

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #ghost x roach #roach x ghost #roach x soap #soap x roach #ghost x soap x roach

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theghostbunnie · 3 months

Text

A concept I was yapping about in a server a few months ago I think I should share here copy n paste style bc I kinda cooked w it

Nurf thinking him and Ered were good friends but Ered veiwing him with the same closeness she views the rest of the campbell kids like "yeah we're all friends" but he's like but I thought *we* were friends together, like Nerris and Harrison and Preston? Like Max Nikki and Neil? Like -

"Dude you're just listing parties of three,"

"I'm listing people who were *closer* Ered"

And she's just secretly awkward like wtf do you want from me? What do you want me to say? You were..a different kind of annoying than the rest sometimes, maybe less? Constantly trying to challenge me to bets n shit was atleast entertaining?? I'm not gonna poor my heart out to you just because you ask me to. Wanna go have therapy in the open woods for children to laugh at??? Wanna make a big blow out scene??

But she doesn't actually SAY any of that she just thinks it and gives him absolutely nothing to work with and Nurf just feels more alone than before, literally all he wants is a friend and the one he thought he had apparently didn't view him to the same extent and it makes him feel so shitty.

And maybe he could chalk it up to "Ered's just like that" but if I may be really silly and say in this concept she's become friends with Tyrone n Mitchell already Nurf just feels straight up *replaced* and takes it out on those two FREQUENTLY keeping his real feelings as to why he's being a dick a secret for once.

He goes to punch somebody else and it's a whole monologue first how this is bc of his dadBut he just *insults* these guys and doesn't even laugh at his own words like he usually does after.

And it doesn't even!!!!! Effect them!!! And it pisses him off worse!!! Even using the most petty tactic he still can't get any of them to hurt like he does and it's so frustrating.

Mitchell n Tyrone (I'm picturing this was a years worth ongoing problem or they were already in a HS AU)) pick up on something being off and finally get Ered to give some information and like girl no wonder the guy has been a total angry piss baby I'd feel terrible too if the one person who was the most regularly talking to me and sitting with me all summer only saw me just as important or lack there of as everyone else.

"You're saying it like I hate him, I don't, but I am getting irritated with this whole thing.. I'm not gonna start being MORE of his friend because he's throwing a fit"

Tyrone's like "but he's really not..? He's been leaving you alone now if you hadn't noticed, and mostly just saying the odd insult to us."

Mitchell: "You don't have to be his friend if you don't want to be that's your right."

Ered: "THANK you. Finally someone says it."

Mitchell: "But he gave you *his* friendship for a very long time and you did sort of spit on it. There's kind of a obvious reason he respected you enough to never make you a target"

"Because I'm technically top dog and he's two notches away from bottom dog, socially atleast."

"Because he *cherished your companionship,* Ered. He's pretty fuckin' equal opportunist if you haven't noticed."

Ered, starting to realize: "..............crap" bc!! Damnit Nurf is a sweetie under all his layers and she knows that and the guilt of hurting him is kinda weighing.

Ered leaves to go talk with him and Tyrone and Mitchell have what I think is a little funny interaction where Mitchell light heartedly is making a comment on the exchange they just had.

" 'top dog' no way she just said that, what is this, prison?? Did I wake up in *prison*?"

Tyrone, just as confused, speaking over him agreeingly: I know I know

And Nurf's just sitting in his room when his mom announces he has a friend here and he's like 'whuh' and Ered just. Steps in and stands there.

".. what do you want.?" Bc when she DOES talk to him to hang out, it's something she wants to do, *he's* stopped initiating things. And Ered has multiple people she's "not really close with but she calls over to do specific hobbies with" since she has so many hobbies.

"Just here to talk."

Okay now she has his attention did somebody fucking die what

"I haven't been a good friend to you." She states it pretty neutrally and flatly like everything she says

Nurf's just looking at her. Girl it is a Thursday afternoon on god's green earth he is trying to do his homework rn. Half of the awnsers atleast.

She doesn't even say sorry. That was just the statement she knew was true now. "If you would like,,.. I can be a better one." She looks over once then nods her head simply.

"You're offering to be my friend just straight up like that?" Is this kindergarten.

"Feel free to decline, man." She shrugs, still neutral.

"No,no I'm not saying that" he puts his pencil down. "Can I just get an honest awnser why I wasn't one to you before?"

Ered sighs. "Promise not to tell?" Speaks a little quieter.

And he is listening SO HARD!!!!!!!

Ered inhales rlly slowly, sticks her hand out to reintroduce herself.

"Meredith Miller.

__Everything I do is to protect myself.__"

He just makes a little bit of a face like go on elaborate on that for me he is so confused and so intrigued and by what he's ASSUMING so far should he be offended.

"You're alot better person than you were back then, people don't give you enough credit for that."

The simultaneous embarrassment of remembering his hardcore bully era and the flattery of a genuine compliment like that being so rare from Ered to anyone.

"And I couldn't trust you that well then as I think I could now. Most of my friends sort of just learn this out themselves slowly but you're not going to unless I spell it out I guess. I'm not a vulnerable or open person, like, at all? Everything I do is to hide I'm flawed. Even *capable* of flaw. I build a reputation, so when I do make little mistakes, or have little quirks, people think I'm doing it ironically, or something, so people just *always* have the best assumptions of me. I abbreviate words over text I don't know how to spell off the top of my head and people think I'm just being cool. I still like how Capri moon tastes and people think I'm just too cool to even care what I have to drink because I'm so above judgement."

"So you're just.. constantly pretending?"

"No, ..sort of."

"I do it so I *can* be myself without it tanking how people veiw me, an actual genuine image of what I am I just work hard to make sure people are *nice* about it. Most of them atleast." Like a safety net built from a good reputation.

"Bigger mistakes though.. people turn on me.

And you were always turned against everyone, dude"

"Sorry.."

"It's fine. We've all got our methods." She understands his behavior comes from a really similar place.

"Nothing I said leaves this room." Pats her hand to his doorway twice as she walks out of it. "See you around."

"..... CAN WE GO BOWLING SATURDAY?"

Ered sort of stops herself mid-way going out the front door. "...Sure!" And is a little surprised he already wants to chill with her

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soulmarrow · 3 months

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the quotes from senna vs. prost are so interesting... which are your favorites? i'm new to this whole thing and i've been obsessed with their story after watching senna's documentary <3

oh MAN welcome to the party!!!! aren't they just!! i find their dynamic, both while ayrton was alive and after he died, so endlessly layered and fascinating.

that entire book is littered with highlights and post its for me but here's some ~lesser posted quotes.. i also have an epub of the book if you'd like, i can post it !! lmk

'Senna told The Times Chief Sports Correspondent David Miller in February 1993, 'I want to be challenged by my own limits together with someone else's limits, by someone who is made of the same skin and bone, where the difference is between brain and experience and adaptation to the course; not challenged by someone else's computer. I don't want a car from Ron Dennis to let me win, but a car to let me compete.'

Post Suzuka crash: 'And what of Prost? 'I almost stopped and retired the same day,' he admitted last summer. 'Senna's engineer from Honda did resign the same day. Ayrton did not think about other people – he just thought about me. He was prepared to be in a crash and maybe kill himself, or hurt himself. He did not think about this: he was not afraid to kill himself. I think that year we should have been world champions with Ferrari and that would have changed a lot of things.' Senna ensured that we would never know if Prost's intuition had been correct. After the events that day in Suzuka, Senna wore the crown of Fangio, Clark, Stewart and Lauda. It should have been an aching fit.'

if you're just coming off Senna you might not know ayrton was a piece of work, petulant, dangerous, manipulative... its part of what makes him so interesting, the book really highlights that part of him !

'Senna's first priority was to break the will of Prost, his team-mate and immediate rival.'That's how it always works,' said Leberer. Senna raced to the boundaries of his own creation; and if sometimes that required him to colour his driving with the black arts of his trade he would do that, too. No regrets, no apologies.'

this describes their last meeting shortly before Ayrton died: 'I saw Ayrton leave the Williams motorhome, but instead of going to the garage he came through the crowd of Renault guests having lunch to come to where I was sitting with around ten other people,' explained Prost. 'A driver doesn't usually do that so close to the start of a race – especially not Ayrton. But he wanted to talk with me. It was very abnormal. He talked a little about the car, a little about safety again. Everyone was looking and listening to what he was saying. It was a shock for the guests to see Senna and myself. It was an unbelievable moment – you can talk about this, but it is hard to describe. I was astonished. He left to go to the garage – and I said that I would see him in five minutes. 'I did not finish my lunch. When I went into the garage he was completely alone. He was doing some stretches. We spoke a little more about the same things, but I did not want to disturb him. He wanted me to stay, though. He was talking again about Michael and Benetton. He asked me what I was doing. The words were not very important; he just wanted to share time with me.' Prost felt a little uncomfortable on his behalf. He would not have wanted some old ex-driver to be hanging around him when he had other more important matters to think about. So, Prost shook hands with Senna, wished him good luck and walked out of the Williams garage. He did not know it then – but he had also walked out of his life. So much had been said, and so much had been left unsaid between them. This was not supposed to be how they parted . . .'

+ here's some more posts with quotes: one, two, three + not from the book but highly rec this little article from alain about ayrton! here + alain talking about ayrton recently here

#anon #prosenna #was just thinking about “it was a fantastic story wasnt it” why did peepaw say all that #text #*

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devildom-moss · 2 months

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SIMBARB HURT/COMFORT.

That's all!

Remember to eat, sleep and dont do drugs!

Sincerely, 💜

This one was a little vague, so hopefully you like it 💜anon, and thank you for the request. I wasn't sure what to write at first, but I think it ended up pretty cute. (also I really hope you meant Simeon x Barbatos without MC, because that's what I wrote). I hope you didn't want heavy angst because this ended up so soft.

SimBarb hurt/comfort

(Barbatos x Simeon)

(mentions of slight physical injury) (fluff)

Word Count: +1,600

There was an unusual subtle ache in every muscle of Barbatos’s body when he woke up that morning. The pain concentrated in his throat, which felt drier than usual. He forced himself out of bed and got something to drink, holding onto a weak, fragile hope that collapsed into a void when his morning tea did nothing to soothe his throat. Barbatos sighed, blowing the steam out from his cup. He was sick.

It wasn’t just the sudden illness that annoyed Barbatos, it was the fact that he got sick the very day that Simeon had planned to visit the castle. Barbatos had spent the last three days working harder than ever to ensure he could spend a peaceful afternoon alone with Simeon. He had done everything except make the snacks he was going to serve with tea that afternoon. His mind had spent days imagining long, intimate conversations and a leisurely walk. If they could find some peace and if Barbatos could make his move, maybe they would have some time to get intimate in a more physical sense. Well, there’s nothing to be done now, he figured.

Barbatos went to the supply closet and grabbed a mask. He could have sent a message to Simeon and canceled their plans. He could have informed Diavolo and taken the day off to rest. He could have done a half-dozen other things than washing up and preparing the food he planned to make. As long as he wore the mask and avoided infecting the food, it would be fine; that was the rationalization Barbatos allowed himself. After all, Simeon always enjoyed the sweets he made, and Barbatos would hate to disappoint him. It didn’t matter how much slower he seemed to be moving, either; Barbatos still had a few hours until Simeon arrived – or, at least, he thought he did.

“Good morning, Barbatos,” Simeon peaked into the kitchen. Barbatos had been facing away from the doorway, and he jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; he was certain he had more time. Simeon laughed sweetly and explained, “I’m sorry to surprise you. I met Diavolo on the way in, so I didn’t have a chance to ring the door. I know I’m early, but when I checked the weather, I noticed that it was scheduled to start raining soon, and I wanted to beat the rain. I forgot to tell you since I was in such a rush.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you made it before the rain hit,” Barbatos spoke, muffled through his mask. He looked over his shoulder at Simeon – careful not to stare too long at the angel.

Simeon heard the muffled speech and saw the glimpse of a mask. He groaned, displeased, and approached the demon. “Barbatos, are you sick?”

“Slightly, it seems, but I’ll manage.”

“Barbatos,” Simeon sighed disapprovingly, “you should stop and get some rest. What in the Devildom are you doing in the kitchen? If something needs to be done, tell me, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

“I’m afraid I must decline your offer. I’m fine – simply not in top form. You needn’t worry. I’m nearly done here.”

Simeon glanced down at the tartlets on the counter. Barbatos grabbed a fresh blood red plum and cut it open. He took half of the plum in his hand and expertly pitted it with the tip of his knife. Simeon watched on in pity.

Without so much as a tickle in his throat to warn him, Barbatos was overcome by a coughing fit that caused him to jolt and slice his palm open, cutting through his glove and a layer of flesh. Simeon gasped and rushed Barbatos to the sink, pulling him by the wrist.

“Simeon, I can –” Barbatos started, but he cut himself off when Simeon looked up at him with a serious gaze – one that chilled Barbatos to the core and warned him not to protest. Simeon removed the glove and ran Barbatos’s hand under the sink until the water ran clear. Through the sting, as slight as it was, Barbatos refused to react or show any sign of pain.

“Do you have a clean rag?” Simeon glanced around the kitchen.

“Second drawer from the top next to the fridge.” Simeon left Barbatos holding his hand over the sink while he fetched the cloth.

He brought the dirty knife and the rag back with him, setting the knife in the sink to be washed later. With a gentle, angelic touch, Simeon pressed the rag directly onto the cut. The first thing Simeon noticed was how warm the palm of Barbatos’s hand was. Pulling his attention back from that warmth, Simeon asked, “You have a first-aid kit in your room, right?”

“Of course, but there’s one in the pantry as well,” Barbatos informed him, although reluctantly. There was no need for Simeon to worry so much over something this insignificant.

“Yes, but we should get you bandaged up in your room.” Simeon smiled sheepishly at Barbatos, who felt his face burn from the suggestive nature of his thoughts, only to be humiliated by his presumption when Simeon added, “You dripped a bit of blood onto your sleeve, and you’ll probably want a new glove once you’re all patched up.”

“Oh.” Barbatos looked down to see a few spots of blood staining his clothes. He nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

“Keep this pressed to your palm as we walk to your room – unless you want me to hold your hand the entire way there.” Simeon nudged Barbatos towards the door.

“I am capable of walking to my room on my own.”

“Yes, I know, but I’m going to tend to the cut for you.”

“I can dress my own wounds,” Barbatos protested.

“Yes, you can, but I can, too. Let me do this for you.”

Once inside his room, Barbatos pointed out his first-aid kit for Simeon and sat on the bed patiently. Simeon joined him and offered his hand, palm up and expecting, waiting to cradle Barbatos’s injured hand. At least Simeon had the kindness to not warn Barbatos of a potential sting as he pressed an alcohol swab to the cut – to allow Barbatos the dignity of presumed knowledge and anticipation. Barbatos sat, quiet and still, through the process.

“Tell me if it’s too tight,” Simeon instructed Barbatos as he began slowly wrapping gauze around his hand. When he finished, he kept Barbatos’s hand in his and caressed along the side of the wrap softly with his thumb. “Is it okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Barbatos offered him a smile that stayed disguised behind the mask. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

“I know.” Simeon lowered his head and kissed the palm of Barbatos’s hand, then left another kiss on his wrist. Barbatos felt his face burn at the show of tenderness. So rarely had he been at the receiving end of doting affection that he found himself unnaturally flustered. Simeon looked up at him with a sickly sweetness. “You should learn how to allow someone to take care of you, Barbatos.”

“I’m trying,” he admitted – half humiliated to be loved.

“Take off your shirt,” Simeon instructed him.

“Pardon?” Barbatos’s eyes widened.

Simeon laughed, knowing he had successfully caused a stir in Barbatos. “I’ll wash it with your glove before I make some soup for you – assuming I have permission to make use of your kitchen.”

“You always have permission to access the kitchen, but –”

“Excellent,” Simeon cut him off. “The last time Luke got sick, I made him some soup that soothed his sore throat and cleared up his sinuses. I’m not sure if you’ll have all the ingredients, but I can go to the market if I have to. Now, that shirt?”

Barbatos sighed and began to undo his coat before unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m well enough to do laundry and cook.”

“And I’m in better health for both. Or do you not trust me to help out?” Simeon tilted his head slightly. That was a dirty trick.

So, of course, Barbatos had to concede. He handed his soiled shirt to Simeon. “Alright, just don’t push yourself for my sake. You could get sick, too – especially if you go out in the cold rain. We should have enough ingredients – if it’s the soup I think you’re talking about.”

“Oh, right! You’re the one who sent me that recipe.” Simeon laughed at his own forgetfulness as he tucked the shirt over his arm. He glanced out the massive window in Barbatos’s room. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed the gentle rain hitting the glass. It had grown particularly dark, and a thin mist obscured the usual view. A soft, content sigh left Simeon. “I didn’t realize the rain was here already, but I guess we’re both guilty of being oblivious.”

“I beg your pardon?” Barbatos was never – or almost never – accused of being oblivious. Often, he was accused of being quite the opposite. “What makes you say that?”

“You haven’t realized that I don’t mind the risk of getting sick.” Simeon leaned in, lifted Barbatos’s mask, and pulled it down before kissing him gently. Simeon’s hand rested on Barbatos’s bare chest, feeling his heart pound. “You’re worth it.”

Barbatos yanked his mask back up the second Simeon pulled away, determined to hide his smile and blush. “You’re certainly bold, angel.”

“You deserve to be cared for once in a while. I promise that the next time I get sick, I’ll let you dote on me.” Simeon pet Barbatos with a chuckle before sliding his hand down from Barbatos’s soft hair to his injured hand. “For now – at least until the rain lets up – let yourself go and trust in my capable hands.”

Suddenly, Barbatos wished that it would rain all through the night.

#💜 anon #ask #anon #requests #obey me ships #barbatos #simeon #barbatos x simeon #obey me #simbarb #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #simeon x barbatos #don't read the tags after this okay #also forgive me but the unholy thoughts really snuck up on me in this one #seriously all I could imagine was Simeon asking Barbatos which hand he usually uses to touch himself and as it just so happens #it's the one he cut. So of course Simeon would have to offer to give Barbatos a hand.#You can't tell me that these two would not be perfect for slow needy sex on a rainy day #and Barbatos lifting the mask just enough to suck Simeon off and Simeon feeling guilty about thrusting into his sore throat #I've established that I think Barbatos would be such a cute sub when he's sick and it makes me unwise.#also the mask kink has me acting truly unhinged in the tags #forgive me all of y'all. or don't.

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gabzlovesu · 1 year

Text

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

╰ ft. kaeya alberich !

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS even before i took my break from writing. and i've proofread this fic damn near 100 times but wasn't sure about posting it. i'm so sorry lol. after this i swear i'll post fics for new characters!

warnings: fem!reader, oral (fem! receiving), angsty sex, kaeya struggling to use his big boy words and tell reader how he feels (bc canon kaeya is >>> fanon kaeya, like bffr)...

word count: 1.2k

☆ PLEASE READ MY RULES/BYF BEFORE INTERACTING ! MINORS DNI ! ☆

Your thumb glides along his lip, studying the fine lines and savoring the warmth that radiates through your fingertip. Your gaze remained fixed on his lips longer than it should have, fearing that once you kissed him — once your lips met and sealed off the world around you — that he too would vanish and become nothing more than a figment of your imagination. And when you finally kissed, it was slow, every movement exaggerated to make this moment last a tad bit longer.

That’s how things usually go whenever you dared to let love trespass the cracked and ragged walls surrounding your heart. The forbidden feeling crept in, and he crept out, going off on his own and leaving you behind with no one to share the extra space.

So you hold on, fisting the hair above the nape of his neck and the white fabric of his shirt as you deepened the kiss, all while eliciting a deep, guttural moan from him. It was your favorite sound. The vocalization of his unspoken desire laced with something more… a bit of feral nature. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you closer on his lap, letting you feel what you do to him through the many layers of clothing between the two of you.

He never said those three measly words that you desperately wanted to hear, but it wasn’t like he dangled them over your head and strung you along either… they just lingered at the back of this throat where they taunted his tongue, wanting to be muttered into the crook of your neck as he held you.

Like a fool, you gave in to him completely as you’ve done countless times before, letting him fill the space between your legs the same way he occupied every inch of your mind. You didn’t stop him. You wanted him to invade your thoughts, your thighs, and every other part of you. You wanted to feel everything he couldn’t say.

“Kaeya…” Your voice trails off, as you get lost in the blue of his eyes. But you didn’t need to finish, not when you gave that lovesick look that you always did before you professed your love. And although he would never admit it, guilt welled up within him every single time. He was guilty about the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to reciprocate such a simple statement. Or maybe he was guilty about the fact that you loved him instead of someone better, someone that didn’t hide their emotions and ration out their love.

Tonight was different. Something urged him deep inside.

“It’s my turn to say it,” he says, cutting you off. Kaeya leads your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss into your palm before continuing. “I love you. I am so deeply in love with you Y/N that I don’t know what to do with myself. And I need you to know. ”

He loves you.

Kaeya loves you.

Maybe you heard that wrong, so you just stare at him with uncertainty.

Silence.

Both of you freeze in place and the air stifles with a bit of awkward tension. You fix your mouth to say something but this time, you’re the one who is struggling to force words to come out, to provide a response. As much as he wanted you to give one, he doesn’t wait any longer. Instead, he starts littering your body with kisses like he was trying to prove his confession.

The lower he crept down your body, the more your back arched off of the satin sheet, offering more of yourself to him as he worked his way to your hot core. Only when his mouth met your aching bud did you melt and mesh with the sheets, drowning in the smooth ocean of grey as you struggled to stay afloat in the sea of arousal.

You could’ve sworn he was mouthing the words into your cunt over and over as he devoured you, and they traveled up from your quivering lips straight to your heart where they were etched permanently — words you would never forget. They were all you focused on as he continued to make love to you. Even when he slowly sank into your heat, rocking his hips and whispering more words into your ear to accompany each thrust, but they were irrelevant words that paled in comparison to “I love you”.

The night ended too soon as your bodies continued to tangle. And some time during your coition, the sheets were ripped from the bed so you resorted to cuddling into this toned body as a heat source. He didn’t mind, his finger idly drawing shapes into your bare back as you counted his heartbeats that thundered in his chest.

It didn’t matter how much you flushed your body against him though. There was still a small possibility that he would be gone by dawn’s first light, leaving as swiftly and quietly as the night had set…and maybe you were okay with that. You didn’t expect for him to stick around, to see that coy smile when you woke in the morning, especially not after what he said tonight. The calvary captain would probably drown himself in work and pretend you didn’t exist for a few days so he could mull over his feelings with a bottle of liquor and get his head straight. But you were okay with that — it was normal.

The cold, empty space next to you in the morning was enough to convince you. Your heart cracking a little more, letting the love start to leak without anyone to catch it. Part of you did expect him to stay, just for once.

At least he had the decency to drape his fur-lined cape over your naked form, the white fur tickled your nose and caused you to wake from your slumber. You slowly climb off the bed, wrapping the cape around yourself as you take in the mess on the floor: your clothes scattered around, pillows thrown about, and the sheets lay jumbled at the foot of the bed. A sigh escapes your lips and then your eyes look to the billowing curtains, realizing that the balcony doors were open to the morning breeze.

What you found behind the curtains was shocking, bringing goosebumps to your skin along with the crisp Mondstat air. There was Kaeya, standing at the rail glowing in the golden hue of the morning sun as it peaked out from behind the horizon. He was ethereal.

If Khaenri’ah did have a god, you imagined it would be fashioned after him.

It didn’t take long for him to notice your presence, and while he did hesitate at first — gauging your feelings about last night — he eventually slinked over to you. He let his arms fall in place around you, second nature it seemed, before locking lips.

It was a goodbye kiss since he had to report to headquarters soon, but it was also a promise to return later. You could tell from the way he extended the deep kiss, usually it was a quick peck and he was gone. This time he pulled you in and french kissed you until his lungs burned for air.

With a stroke of his thumb across your lip while admiring your eyes, mimicking you from last night, he departed silently out the door. You stood there with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you held the cape tight and ran your fingers over the exact spot his thumb grazed moments prior.

TAGLIST FORM

tags: @hungrynessforfics @rinhoes @indiecursor @protectpancakes @fight-me-bitch @nneedynymph @po3ticb3auty @haitani-plague @festive @apollostears @thenerdyrebel @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @picayunne @kookieflvr @woahhajime @syomi @chrolloderulo @kutosznn @takemichiluvr @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @sakurashell @38riku @hyeque @wiserebelpartypie @sleepy3 @yuujilove @imperatorkhaleesi @sukunas-left-nut-sack @lawscorazon @sailewhoremoon @chaoticevilbakugo @xxrwzy @wh0reforlevi @nekoriots @yeagerfushiguro @chaotic-fangirl-blog @sftbunny-blog @dukina @momoewn @thithesandofferings @justdevine @hyeque @chittakii @breyspage

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya genshin x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

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mari-lair · 11 months

Note

What do you think will happen to Akane when No 1.‘s yorishiro is destroyed (because story wise it probably will be.)

Once they lose their seat as a school mystery, will Akane not be a part of them anymore? And if so, what will happen to him. I think that the best case scenario is that he will lose his powers but still be able to see supernaturals. The worst case scenario is that his memory of anything supernatural is wiped but I’m really hoping that doesn’t happen.

(I think about this more than I should)

I feel ya! I too think way too hard about Akane’s situation.

The best case scenario to me is that Akane gets the same treatment as the other mysteries that lost their yorishiro and he mostly became weaker. The six years of his contract aren’t over after all, he may lose his seat but not his connection to the clock keepers, the only change is that the clock keeper's boundary is gone and maybe instead of 15 minutes per day, he can only stop time 5 or 1 minute per day.

Cause those that lost their yorishiro aren’t completely disconnected from their school mystery powers (Tsuchi still has access to the books after the library is gone. Yako knows how to find portals. And Mei created something magical in the new chapter for Sakura. )

But since there are three clock keepers, and Akane is only half supernatural, it’s hard to know what would happen... Him losing his powers cause he is the weaker link of the keepers, and there could not be enough power remaining in their rumor to sustain his pocket watch, or something of sorts, but this lost connection not nullifying his ability to see supernaturals, similar to Aoi after her rescue, would be cool. I like your best case a lot.

His memory of anything supernatural being wiped out fuck me up for many reasons but I want to believe it won’t happen both because Aoi got back from the near shore still seeing supernaturals, and cause Teru, a competent exorcist, may have ways to protect his memory from any possible curse.

Now a bit of insanity time: The worst case to me is that Akane should have been dead before the manga even started.

Akane is a normal boy, he isn’t related to exorcism or sacrifices or anything supernatural. Just like Nene he couldn’t even see them for all his life and only had manual labor to offer when they made a contract.

But this normal boy ‘suddenly’ starts seeing the clock keepers the moment they had everything set up to put their recruiting plan into action.

I can’t say with any confidence they shortened Akane’s lifespan, but I do find it very convenient that the supernaturals whose rumors involve stealing people’s time had Akane able to see them when they needed him to see them.

So I have this theory he is a walking corpse.

He could see the clock keepers at 12, and he is already 15, so if we compare his situation to Nene’s (who has one year to live since being involved with supernaturals, and is the only other human with a supernatural contract) he would be two years past his expiration date. The only thing keeping him alive at the moment is his contract with Mirai and Kako, once the contract is over he is dead, and the destruction of the clock keeper's yorishiro would accelerate his death or null the contract completely and kill him right away.

It would also add another layer as to why Hanako is so fascinated by Akane, and why Mei told Yashiro to seek the clock keepers to help with her lifespam, but instead of showing the three keepers, like usual, it just shows akane. Akane in his two forms.

Him having two bodies (one that is supernatural and invisible to students, so technically, a ‘dead’ body) is already very strange, and if anyone can twist the laws of fate to give someone more time in this manga, it would be the clock keepers.

#tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #aoi akane #jibaku shonen hanako kun #akane make me so worried this boy carry so many death flags rip

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kedreeva · 1 year

Note

HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO CREATE A BREADBEAST THAT POWERFUL

every time I try my starters die out of spite towards their delicious fate

What flour are you feeding? I almost lost Tex because I was feeding bleached all purpose flour. Once I switched to unbleached all purpose, she turned around and started having Opinions about things.

Everywhere I have read also says to feed with a 1:1:1 ratio (1 part starter, 1 part water, 1 part flour) by weight. But I was also told the starter should look and feel like "pancake batter" and - despite never having made pancakes in my life - in my VERY LIMITED experience, 1:1:1 makes way too thick a mixture. So, I usually keep 50-100 grams of starter, and more water and less flour. If I was keeping 100 grams of starter, I would add 110 grams of water and 90 grams of flour. Also you do have to keep enough of them I think. When I discard, I don't like to keep less than 50g of starter. You can probably still work with less, but I don't want to.

I'm also finding that I have to listen to her about when she wants to be fed. Everywhere says you're supposed to feed them once a day (if she's at room temp) or once a week (if in fridge) but I'm finding that MY room temperature is not "room temperature" but in fact is lower (because we're in the middle of a michigan winter over here). So instead of feeding her "Every day," I wait until I can see a clear layer of alcohol on top. I was told that's how you actually know they're ready to be fed, and it seems to be sound advice.

I've also seen advice about what to do with that alcohol; some people say mix it in, some say pour off as much as possible before stirring. I poured it off a couple of times and Tex was very sad afterward. I mix it back in, now, she does great. Maybe it works the opposite for some people, idk. I just know what works for me and Tex.

I'm editing to add: I don't know if the container matters but I got three Weck tulip jars (the one in the photos) and they have nice wide lids and the glass just sits on top and the curved bottom is easy to clean. I got three of them so that I could swap back and forth at feed. I stir her to mix everything, then pour off the measured amount I want into a clean jar and set it aside while I do whatever with the discard or rinse the dirty jar, then feed her in the new one.

#breadventure #sourdough starter #asks #Solstex #I would be happy to send you some Tex #I dried some out to preserve in case of accident #like sark kicking over her jar that one time #and so I could share if anyone wanted

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sugar-petals · 2 years

Text

sub!𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 🌹║ 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚝

↳ smut A-Z / 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓

【ＧＥＮＲＥ】› smut/angst/fluff + monaco gp au

【 ♥ pairing.】charles x reader

words. 🍒 16k — bc 16 is a good number :)

WARNINGS/TAGS. ⚠️ 18+ (mdni), pwp, sub charles oh là là, bondage, femdom + vanilla dynamics, face sitting, suits kink, protected sex, pegging, anal play, masochism, oral, multiple sex partners mention, alcohol mention, French language kink who knew

↳ [ // 🍓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. ] i like my alphabets long with feelings and sub plots: pun intended 😂 you’ll find parts that are romantic, sad & horny, the rest is fun, now let’s get into it. 🍌

posted: july 7, 2022

【 read it on AO3 】

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

One of the best parts of sex, he’s one sucker for you. Charles loves getting aftercare so much, ending up lost in your eyes because he can’t help it. Jeez, his cuddliness. And god, he smells so good. Charles is blushy, and he’s and clingy, and he talks so much. Face buried in your hoodie kind of affectionate. It always has you wondering, why does Charles love me so much, why does he act this way, like a literal puppy. But he just likes being looked after this way after he satisfied you. Behind all those layers of ambition and stress, there is only needy and dependent Charles left — he won’t lie about it.

In contrast to him, you keep it efficient. And relatively short, never exceeding 20 minutes, but it’s oh so vital. Less is more sometimes. A glass of water for Charles and he feels refreshed: „Merci beaucoup, mon rêve.“ — he calls you `my dream´ very often. A little lotion on his back and legs is just as quick, and he’s ready to sleep. Lighting some incense, candles, or bringing him a big cup of tea. Putting on a vintage movie on a beamer and just embracing to snuggle, barely listening to the dialogue in the background since you turned down the volume deliberately. If you denied your darling pillow prince his orgasm earlier, you will gently suck him off now, sloppy enough for little bubbles to start forming around your lips. You make sure your favorite blue-white cotton duvet is within reach just like towels. Gotta stay warm and covered afterwards.

On other days, you like to go the extra mile. You switch on the big red popcorn machine or make some light pink cotton candy. Cherry flavored, of course. His mom always gifts him these fancy kitchen machines for fun, but she’s right: More delicious things for Charles. His secret sweet tooth is actually adorable. Ferrari’s dietician comes for Charles, but not for you, so this is the ultimate loophole. Charles and his cotton candy have become inseparable. He just loves to pull those fuzzy strings out of the `main cloud´ as he calls it. Or, laughs his ass off when his lashes get caught in it. They’re so long, how can he blame `em.

Dose of head pats, lots of water chugging — no coffee, rule of the house. As a wise British prophet (King Lewis the 44th) once said: Coffee is disgusting! You’re keeping it healthy, Charles he wants to sleep tight in your arms later, after all. Instead, sweat wiping. Forehead kisses. Snack bars. Charles needs a quick fix here and there. But he’s very relieved of some heavy stress, and very smiley. You feel content and proud, but usually not with a weight off your shoulders since there was hardly any to begin with. You’re with Charles, your everything. Your angel and treasure, and your beauty. Just looking at his friendly face once can suffice to destress for three days in a row. If you do the math: Looking at him ten times equals one month without tribulations. That’s the energy.

What’s absolutely expected: He appreciates your idea to run a bath after sex recently. This man might as well live in the tub permanently. „Grown any gills yet?“ — a frequent favorite quip of yours. Maybe he should pin wheels to the whole thing, paint it red, and roll up at the starting grid with this next-generation Ferrari. Nickname: The Merman of Maranello. Nothing else on but some yellow trunks and shiny designer shades. He’s gonna win a Championship with that in no time. New Ferrari Masterplan unlocked: Charles drives his bathtub to P1. But anyway, we digress. Aftercare.

Charles loves to be bathed and lathered in jasmine shampoo. You like to shave him when he’s covered in foam like that. His axilla, chest, or neck, just because the sound is satisfying and Charles enjoys this type of personal attention. Aftercare with Charles Leclerc can turn anyone into a soft domme or service top. You take your extra time to towel him down bit by bit, and make him feel luxurious in a way that even his salary can’t. You will admit to Charles that you like to pamper him, and that makes him give you a very sheepish look. Is he flustered? Yes, he is.

Aftercare is filled with conversation. You know how he can suddenly talk like a waterfall, lots of exclamations and dramatique expressions? That’s exactly the atmosphere. Free-flowing chats. Charles talks about himself in 3rd person pretty often, which is cute. Little spoon all the way, too, this guy is like a human kitten. Likes to suck on your fingers with a cheeky, blissed-out expression. It’s a go-to favorite to calm himself a little and to have his lips busy on you. Definitely an aftercare hugger rather than a direct kisser. He wants to breathe deeply now. And be softly tickled, it’s perfect to make him laugh. The sweet bun, no wonder his name rhymes with éclair.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

As far as you observed him at the bathroom sink, Charles is super into his hair recently. He’s trying out new products, often things you bought him as a casual gift to spoil your honey boy. It’s the personalized things that make Charles feel special to you. Since last month, he talks about how much shine and definition he can achieve. The helmet ruins his whole effort in one go, but he’s trying. Even consulting his barber on it. Always learning from the professionals.

As for his body as a whole. He’s still not admitting to his height, but at one point you said, silence bottom. You look good. You look nice. You’re a cutie pie. Head to toe. The whole world likes you. And you’re serious, because the entirety of your boyfriend is more important than whether he towers over you or not. He’s compact and huggable, what’s not to like. He got everything to hold on to, the arms, the shoulders. Even his pecs are growing nowadays, those tight white shirts look damn good on him. Wet t-shirt contest when? Father, son, and the house of Ferrari: That sight would be mindblowing.

People think his appeal is mysterious. To you, Charles’ handsomeness can be explained in simple terms. Everything about him is pleasant. That photogenic masterpiece, look at him. The Orlando Bloom of Formula 1. Any angle does him good. His way of coming across, his speaking, his gaze, his humor, his smile. All pleasant. Nothing upsets the ear, the eye. He is polite, he is pretty, with the exact amount of being gorgeously sexy on top. His face is banging, his body is shapely, what more does anyone need. That he’s often a little confused without even intending to just adds to his overall charm.

Being good with people is the cherry on top. Charles having a hundred social graces and winning people over with a simple „could you please repeat the question, sorry“ — I mean come on. The thing is. If you put him next to a Men’s Health magazine cover, he probably won’t meet whatever white guy beauty standards of the time, in whatever circles, whatever trend it is now. He’s not carrying around a 10-pack, he’s not a 6’3 spaghetti noodle, and doesn’t crank out an itty bitty waist either. Your man’s neck looks like he got it from a different person. And yet— Charles is the ultimate magnet. What is it?

Oh honey… it’s the demeanor. People so crucially forget his ways of expression factoring in. Charles’ body language. Why does nobody ever mention that. It’s very readable. That makes someone so easy to approach and like. You love his mannerisms and point them out often. Charles is always surprised he’s even doing these things. This guy even shifts from one foot to the other like he’s dancing 24/7, so. Even more attractiveness points.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Plays with it using the tips of his godly fingers when he gets you off in the evening — “Oh my god. You’re incredibly wet.” His job is all about working with his hands all day, every day, after all, finding the right buttons. So, Charles got that down, rest assured.

Loves the sounds, loves to make you cum slowly but surely, calling you oh mon amour while doing so. Prepare for his hooded bedroom eyes and him licking off his fingers like it’s icing. His hand coordination… it’s criminally insane what this guy can do with your clit. I believe it’s magic. Charles is an epicure but also a loverboy, he does all of this without expecting you to do anything in return. Just lean back and enjoy.

Meanwhile. Brace yourself, Monsieur. You have some other plans when the mood is right. Charles is definitely up against a caliber here. Your latest fantasy is ruining one of his ultra-expensive Italian suits with some crazy debauchery. Jacking him off in all directions, no mercy. And squatting down naked on top of a very clothed him, Charles wearing a silky blindfold for good measure. His suits make you turned-on beyond all reason. It’s custom, the cut clings to his million-dollar body like satin. The material of his clothing somehow gets drenched in your spit and drool as well — I wonder how that could happen.

To make it worse, you deliciously eat slices of watermelon while sitting on his face. Choking him out by pulling at his black tie, all without a care in the world where the melon juice will drip and dry. Feeding him with another slice is step two, just to see it all flow down his cheeks and chin. Charles can clearly feel his collar being soaked, but there’s only so much he can do. The blindfold is perfect because not only deprives it Charles from knowing what you do, but it also makes for a good reaction face once he sees the result.

Yeah, I know. This poor `innocent´ guy getting a full 69 treatment. Although you have to say, Charles is definitely rising up to a challenge here. Who of these other drivers currently has his face full of pussy, does breath play level expert, gets waterboarded by a sticky summer fruit, and tries not to cum from getting his dick French kissed and drooled across. Sounds fun, but from a sub’s perspective, that’s actually demanding. Multi-task legend.

Part of your fantasy is Charles whining about the ruin of said suit until it is born again after a thorough laundry. The next day, as per your text decree, he has to wear the whole thing on the paddock. No excuses. Distinctly Italian shoes with laces and glossy coating included, even if it’s not the red carpet. Charles rises to the occasion, he keeps his promise. Time to strut some golden pinstripes down the runway, baby. Wearing a slutty turtleneck underneath the tux, which almost explodes at the seams because his neck just won’t fit. Even Mister classic suits king George Russell will have to pick up his jaw from the concrete when Charles will walk, no, float along.

Jesus is the whole thing fitted. Literally so tight around the ass and shoulders. Gotta raise the fashion morale among the younger drivers and inspire more men to be a suits hoe. And the best thing? You like the fact that he’ll only think about last night while wearing it, constantly checking his body as if the evidence was still there. He concurs you have him beat with outrageous ideas, and managed to successfully corrupt him. Just to be sure, though: His racing suit is off-limits. But yep. The media will go wild and Charles’ beauty will break the F1 Internet. Nobody suspects what happened before the detergent.

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This cute lil’ mouse really is one of the most toppable drivers on the grid. Yes, I hear the crowd: Besides Mister Norris (Formula 1’s undisputed HSIC — Head Sub In Charge) and Monsieur Gasly. Gotta be precise and honor Charles’ contemporaries. An absolute dark horse sub is none other than Valtteri, but the world is not ready for that discussion yet. Maybe his booty portrait will pave the way among a 30+ audience. In any case. Charles got a certain hard sub flavor to him. That’s right. His luxury twink face and cotton candy antics deceive. He likes a strong grip on him. His dirty secret really is how far he is willing to go to submit.

He’s not as easy as Pierre on his own soft limits. Pierre is more playful and loves a good niche fetish that nobody heard of. Charles, completely different. What on earth is a soft limit! He doesn’t want to put anything on a `try…maybe…´ list. Too tentative. He either goes for it or not. „I can do it“ is a frequent agreement. Aftercare is mellow, but your man definitely has a streak of wanting to be steadfast and likes your topping more abrasive and immediate than not.

Really letting go is his unspoken sexual dream. It’s something every good driver wishes to achieve in their car, so of course, he wants to know how that applies to him in bed. Charles’ secret desire is to be tenacious when he’s in pain. No half-assed domination on your part. The real fucking deal. Red stripes on skin, everything. Charles is the quintessential masochist, you can smell that from across the Shanghai straight. And that straight is long as hell.

Charles has no intent of taking his frustrations out on you. He puts a lot of his stress into neck training, and his stamina, but he would feel bad using his strength to dominate you to the bone and make you writhe. He just can’t. Sure, Charles knows what he wants (…for the most part), but that doesn’t entail hanging you from the ceiling by one ankle. Vice versa, if you talk to him about trying a bondage suspension, however— You might awaken a curiosity. When it comes down to it, he has no qualms.

After thinking about it a lot, you realized there was a convincing reason for his secret. In his life of racing and competing, being steadfast? That’s often impossible for him. Racing is messy, sudden, direct, and fleeting. In bed, Charles can surrender and endure as much as he like. On the one hand, he can prove that he can take it all. On the other hand, he does not have to worry about getting things under his control. Subbing is his unexpected perfect match, even if he might only be half-aware, or not confident enough to go full BDSM at the beginning of your relationship. He still needs and wants to be taught.

One of his dream scenarios is this. Your kitty cat, classy but nasty he is, wants to be groped while he’s playing the piano. The bench is elongated enough for two people. His thighs and crotch are right there. So, while he’s playing you a little piece, Charles’ expression is kind of like „just do something really inappropriate“. And aggressive, not just feather-light. Your hand between his legs, making him go insane through the fabric of his black pants? That fantasy is his eternal cause for morning wood. Likes being groped while driving, too. Neither case needs a handjob to top it off. Charles just wants to feel aroused and then rub his dick against your thighs if possible. Until you get annoyed with the sensation and tell the naughty garçon how he can touch himself. And he can drive with one hand.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

While you were on holiday in a lodge, he conceded something to you in a bittersweet recount of his earlier years in Monaco. Charles hooked up pretty quickly when he was still sleeping around, getting lost in whirlwind emotions. If he had the time, any excitement-promising approach was considered. And: Put to practice fast enough to match the pace of the racing world, if not on the spot. He couldn’t really say no, his vice. If somebody cute asked him kindly, please sleep with me, Charles: He replied where and how.

Charles almost went too far liking to please, offering his body, and his default answer being „so what do you like me to do“. Rather than „what do we like to do together“. He regrets he didn’t decline more often. For a myriad of reasons, Charles has a difficult time telling you that. Sex was taking over his life and didn’t fit into his natural flow. He was careful with his partners, but it was just as lustful as one would expect. That in and of itself didn’t impact him as strongly as the confusion of feelings. And, the fact that he had an easier time saying yes to someone who wanted a ten-minute romp than actually approaching somebody he had a crush on. Small talk, sure. He’s good at it. Offering a hot lap and driving them around track? Sure. But asking that person on a real date? He was terrible.

He’d only manage to drop hints he was throwing a party at best. Charles ended up surrounded by flirty people before he could even spot his crush in the crowd. On to the next circuit after sunrise: The opportunity gone. No number, no nothing. Charles’ trust into his own feelings for somebody corroded time and again that way. There was no event where he could develop his own infatuation or any reciprocity. The people he liked didn’t think they had a chance, and those who liked him wanted fast relief from their obsession, disappointed at how normal, frustrated, or half-hearted he came across.

The vicious cycle continued with distractions and more attractive people that gave him a blitz hormone rush that almost felt like being in love. Some of them — those who essentially invited themselves into his sheets — were really good in bed, which increased the satisfaction and had an addictive shock value. But after getting them off and then himself, in an almost medical and hyperfocused, stoic way, he still went to the bathroom with a deep existential sigh in his mind which he had no idea how to label. It might have been a feeling of being dragged along into something too messy to get out of.

Meanwhile, people who thought themselves less attractive came back for validation and wanted to pry Charles into daddying and husbanding them back and forth. He almost fell for the incentive and toxicity of that power trip he was offered. Which doubled the people on his lap, his fatigue, the let-down, and mistakes while driving. Wanting to try things out harmlessly became a stream of forgotten names which Charles thought was a mutual pity, all done just for the sake of a tiny glimpse of feel-good body motions. Which he could deliver, he was great, which complicated things even more, and gave him nudges to repeat himself.

That irresistible seduction swallowed up countless hobbies and friendships before he even noticed. The hookups went by faster and faster. Charles was no longer cocky, but numb. Which put his already inundated and clueless brain through a blender and confounded him even more. Knowing he had so much responsibility in this cycle was just as stalling. His notorious Achilles’ heel of not being able to do quick problem-shooting was the last straw. What Charles said to you about this will haunt you forever: “When I make a mistake, when I try to fix it, it just becomes a second one.“

All of this results in Charles’ body count easily exceeding the two figures. He feels paralyzing guilt in retrospect, mixed with positive emotions of remembered pleasure, which is an awkward blend. Charles overthinks how he got passed around so much to distract himself from an empty inner space. He cries about his memories on the couch and doesn’t really seem to stop being preoccupied for weeks after he revealed those things to you. That he apologizes for being `used up´ rubs you the wrong way since he has so much love to give. But you get why Charles got himself into these situations. He had always been stunning, and people thought: Sharin’ the joy.

Good for them, and his drive is arguably high, he wanted relief. Charles did get something out of it. He satisfied many people who deserved some Charles Leclerc in their lives, even if it was just for an hour. But still, you can imagine the chaos and heartbreaks. Many people Charles hooked up with gaze at your boyfriend in a peculiar way when passing by and seeing you. Charles can’t look up, even if you have nothing against these persons and they seem to be cool people.

It’s his body, he did what he wanted to do with it. Charles could try himself out as he should have, and he’s the master of fanservice. Truth be told, who wouldn’t like it when their idol was making out with them. Nothing more understandable than the massive collective excitement for Charles Leclerc. Of course you’re flattered he settled with you, and you can build this from the ground up. He protected well, having a baby is quickly done indeed. Last thing he wants to do is spread STIs or race with a toddler at the back of his mind. Who Mommy has to explain to what dad does for a living. Everything but that.

He’s talked a lot about it to you which you think is courageous. You don’t resent Charles having done things like taking two people with him to his hotel every time there was some palpable sensual chemistry. And there was, and it was good to live in the moment. Some dates weren’t draining or disappointing. Who’s mad people had a good time with Charles: That’s a thousand times more preferable than any opposite of that. And no way to wind back the clock — he knows that best. It happened, and he is honest to you about it, risking the whole relationship by doing so.

Your stance is this. If Charles slept around, that’s what he did. Nothing to complicate there. He’s done his thing. A lot of people had a lot of late-night fun, and there were two or three emergency pills. Which gladly turned out fine. He figured all the other safety stuff out, too. He really learned the essentials, but in person, not in a textbook. Charles thinks he’s a dummy, but you disagree. It shows in his way of showing worry and saying the right words, and he knows not to cause someone he slept with physical concerns. That he’s not a wild-ass sadistic zaddy dominant adds to the overall image. He could not slap someone across their face for a hundred million plus.

All that amounts to a pile of experience. What about it? It’s not like Charles is craving eighty people on him every Sunday night. Come on, King Lewis could outdo your boy on any given evening in one of his local vegan gangbangs where the Sir indulges anyone who shows up with a smoothie, Sebastian merch, or a pride flag. With a big cheeky smile, you know it. Charles was more on the other side of the spectrum wanting fewer people involved. Keeping the overview and staying focused on good sensations and at least a little romanticism, which usually failed. Which is why he also wants a monogamous future for himself. A partner he can worship but also eat greasy takeout with, somewhere in an empty American diner at 3 AM looking like you both just survived all ten Biblical plagues.

His experience helps him know what feels good to both partners and what to avoid. But he also has some remaining mental baggage from the exhaustion, the stigma, and rapid socializing. He got fucked half-drunk pretty often which was not a good thing, and he hates that the most. That’s why it’s important to Charles that you’re sober, you’re in control, and he’s glad he has you. His health is checked. He’s well aware what a French Letter is and keeps on using it. Although Charles thinks he is undeserving of a stable relationship regardless of his wish for exactly that, you don’t falter. After a `second mistake´ can always come a right choice.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

By far that’s face to face, lying down on your favored sides. Your leg over his hip. A comfy pillow under your heads. The room nice and warm. Need I say more. Charles enjoys the angle and way of accommodating so much. He can penetrate you while kissing and feel your legs and hug. It’s the position you had your very vanilla first time in, so you keep repeating it for nostalgic value. You love being centimeters short of your lashes touching his, nose next to nose, and seeing his eyebrows arch in pleasure: Priceless. That position is called The Rocker, and it does have a nice rocking motion.

It was — and how else would it be, Charles is a wonderboy — a kind first time. Charles was not a klutz and knew how to arrange his body perfectly. He put a lot of sweat into making this a great starting point. That way of having sex on your sides is actually not so easy from the guy’s perspective, it speaks of Charles’ dexterity even if he is not extremely bendy Yuki-style. You like it because it feels so stable and is close to a regular hug. Charles really did the opposite of walking up to you saying „okay madame, missionary?“. He’s generally open-minded and makes less popular positions feel easy instead of awkward. This particular position is also useful to transition into many others, which is why it’s a bedroom staple.

Charles can make love in any reasonable way, though. You on top of him. Prone, super relaxed. Doggy over the backrest of his sofa. And those are just the classics. He’s not gonna throw you around or put you in a piledriver, and most standing positions are weird to him, but the rest is fair game. There’s no shame he feels in the moment, although he may be shy. Just because he had a lot of partners, doesn’t mean he won’t be bashful. But also don’t forget: Behind those dimples is a lot of resolve. He wants to be flawless. You always look forward to Charles taking the whole thing so damn seriously. You don’t mind him being so accurate. Like anything, it shows his natural will to please and be good rather than not caring at all.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In a puzzling contrast to his rigid perfectionism, Charles `I sing in the shower´ LeBean is a hilarious goofball incarnate. He’s insane, he’s strange, he can’t stay straight-faced at all, ironically. People are far too distracted by his appearance and Monéygasque attitude. He constantly makes little jokes during foreplay — he once acted like he handed you a toothpaste instead of a lube bottle — and won’t stop randomly squirming or making weird-ass moves. Body language again: He’s his own universe. He can create the greatest atmosphere with that dripping chocolate honey marshmallow strawberry ice cream French, too, even if he said the biggest ever nonsense. It’s a miracle language.

His PDA is just as unconventional. Recently, he gave you a hand kiss and curtsy. Basically on the paddock, where you arrived to work, see him, and bully some team principles as a side quest. You simply got bored once Charles was told to warm up indoors. So there’s that, a nice hand kiss. Charles seems to consider you Monte Carlo royalty, but maybe that’s because he’s such a pretty prince himself. Although, he does not behave like some kind of monarch as soon as the occasion calls for him to be a meme, and that includes right in the act. Charles is the type to verbatim say „oops, I actually came! What happened!“ As always, one of a kind. You’ll never stop laughing with this guy.

He’s so sorry about making all these unintended jokes. He just can’t see the puns cumming, can he. As mentioned earlier, Charles prefers a whole bit of orgasm denial anyway. Tell him he can’t climax until you say so, and he’ll gulp, and stick it out with his teeth clenching. You’re gonna make this man explode harder than the night race fireworks, that shit got nothing on him. You’ll have him a sweaty wreck by the time you’re done with him, he’ll talk in at least two languages at once. Charles’ trilingual lifestyle is a warranty for plenty of verbal mix-ups. „You are so `otte…“ — „Haute? Like haute couture?“ — „No, `ot! Like temperature!“ — „Oh, hot!“

h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Trés chic! Charles is a chameleon: Closely trimmed, then all-natural. To give a more orderly impression, he likes to take care of his cleavage and especially the happy trail to give you a nice view in general. That spot’s gotta be smooth. When you lick across his chest, that’s gotta be sleek, too. He experiments with how to groom his pits and puts a scented conditioner on his leg hair in the shower sometimes.

To rave about the obvious: Charles has that lovely and consistent dark hair. Spectacular, amazing, stupendous. That beard awakens something in you. Don’t get me wrong. There are some pretty cool beards on the grid. But Charles has one that is stylish, versatile, fitting, and unobtrusive. It’s complimentary and gives him yet another touch of elegance. He has quite the beauty regimen in the morning. Knows how to tweeze his eyebrows, but doesn’t overdo it in the outer corners.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Charles is so sensual. If not the number one driver on the grid who understands what `erotic´ really means and looks like, next to Monsier Gasly of course. Erotic, that’s giving no discomfort, but a smile. Your first guess was that he might be a bitchy brat who gave his top a dramatic display — I mean he puts the winky face smoochy heart emoji into his captions — but little did you know he’s very focused on your experience and snuggly. Charles needs that downtime. Babe can’t expend all his energy smiling through the pain all day, or distract himself on his phone, can he. Charles has an expected soft side that comes out even more in complete privacy. On an intimacy scale to 10, he’s an 8.

Sure… Charles has a tiny bit of attitude: „That turns you on, doesn’t it?“ Because he knows exactly what you like, and his way of speaking English can make it sound bolder than it is. It will sound way different in French. But his nature as a pleaser who looks for signals in return rather than someone who thrives on one-sided romance does come out pretty quickly. He’s talked to you about those awkward past scenarios of being in that unrequited position, and how that ended up like. Charles is careful looking up to someone although he wants to do that so much, and it’s a huge part of defining intimacy to him. That’s why romance has to feel light and airy to him. He values fooling around rather than classic date nights sometimes, but is also the type to say „You feel amazing“ a lot during sex since he likes to give revering compliments.

His most candid intimate thoughts will only exist in written form: A diary. Yes, Charles will sit down and journal. If he finds time to write stuff into his Ferrari burn book, he will find time to write something in his journal at home or the hotel. Facts. You don’t pester him to show you. Charles can keep secrets or talk about it however he likes. He’d not touch your phone ever, either. Not once. He is more wary than jealous. He figures his mind out by himself and trusts you. One of the things he’s written down and actually dared to put forward in a conversation is that he has a fantasy of you acting more possessive over him. Physically, psychologically. In less of a romantic way. Who knew.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’d never eat his own cum directly. The rest? Free reign. Charles treats his dick like. What to even compare it to. Lando vibrating and squealing and jumping around in his gaming chair. Weird analogy, but you get the idea. He’s going ballistic. Traction control off. Among the whole grid, Charles would win a speed contest. Always masturbates like it’s his first time doing it. Usually on all fours, winding left and right when no one watches, throwing himself around. This guy is fucking desperate, you don’t even know. His post-nut regrets are three times worse than the average guy’s. His wrist hurts while steering later, so Charles will masturbate the most at the beginning of the week. Saturday night? Not a chance.

Since he jacks off like a madman to destress, it makes him even more like a human pressure cooker. Ironically, since he thought it would blow off steam big time. You often have to remind him that he better not detach his dick from himself with all that heavy tugging. Charles realizes that a gentler approach will be better at prolonging his pleasure and finding the right moment for release. „The more deliberate you are, the less regret you’ll feel“ — especially if you get kisses all over your face while doing so. Guided masturbation is his perfect match. „Keep it clean. Only this direction.“ He listens to you since Charles knows you make sense. The more he gets into that, the more he likes that form of indirect domination. Just how much can he arch his back? Come in and find out. Allez, Charles.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

The thing is. Your bébé has not really tried full-on submission beforehand. He’s played around with handcuffs, blindfolds… but never dared to go all the way. And neither was he encouraged, even if he’s really interested in those things. That’s probably why he was bouncing from one hook-up to the other, hoping for something spicier to occur, without actually communicating that, which set him up for being disheartened. Vanilla sex is great, but still far away from his full potential.

Those thighs and ass can handle it, Charles is ready for a whipping. He’s ready for the strap, he’s ready for the slaps, he’s ready for the feathers tracing over his body. Bring on the adrenaline. And oh boy, he’s already among the top 20+ drivers in the world doing adrenaline as a full profession. You gotta hit it out of the park. His fascination with BDSM has a reason: Charles thinks he missed out on exploring his submissive side, like there’s a gap in his sexuality. From your side, it goes much further. From your observation, you have a masochistic diamond on your hands. Still raw, but soon to be sculpted in full.

Pegging as a first step, it’s a wild ride in all meanings of the word. You have to be careful to guide him. Charles is easily sensitive. Paradoxically, he doesn’t want gentle prep. Go big or go home. That goes for strap size, too. Using smaller toys to dilate is simply not his thing. He cleans himself up in the bathroom to get ready, but that’s it. This man is gonna talk nonstop. „Like this? What do I do? Is this okay like that? This feels crazy! But in a good way! What do I do with my hips?! Where do I put my leg? What’s this feeling?“

You have to talk your cherry boy through it like an instruction video. Charles’ ass is twitching like hell, which makes you wonder how on earth did this man not get properly dominated by anyone yet. Well, there’s always a first time, and who knew there was still a way to take his virginity. Like wow. And so abruptly, he just wants you to push it in from behind, no fingers first. Good evening to his prostate. This guy’s eyes will be falling out. He’s never been this touchy-feely.

Charles is going to be stunned out of his mind for hours after. You’ll see reactions he never did before. It hurts a lot, like a lot lot, but… he gets excited from that; his heart beats faster than at the start of a race. Charles had no idea that being split in half was that much of a big deal, and you spanking him as a little treat makes it even better. He’s gonna do a little yelp anytime something happens, and seriously. Sure you’ve heard him gaming, but Charles is a different kind of screamer when you pull his hair. The ultimate stress relief.

If that already keeps him on his toes and gives him an existential crisis (which, to be fair, is his primary mode of living these days), wait until you break out the long gloves. Charles will think you’ve gone insane, but it turns him on. He likes being confronted with extremes as is his driver nature. Oh, to get his face slammed down into a pillow and just getting ravaged, and this time not a piece of plastic. And again: He does not like it tender. Charles has the guts to enter an F1 car, you can rearrange these guts without a worry. No „Mommy mommy please take your time“ — he’s not that kinda sub. His name ain’t Lando. It needs to be at the limit until he can’t take it anymore. Lube is your best friend.

In vanilla, he’s a romantic, but for subbing, this guy is not for the faint of heart. You’re doing those things on Monday, not Friday evening. Maybe Charles doesn’t feel the car bouncing because his ass is already numb. That would explain a lot. You’re leaving is in literal shambles. Just how often have you blown his back out? Charles will avoid soft subbing, he enjoys you being brutal, sometimes a bit too much, in fact.

Sure, you can give it to him strongly. Why not have a little hate sex. You saw how much he likes being choked with his own tie. It’s nice if things get red-hot. But the calm and subtle side is missing, which is why you sometimes just rope him in while on his knees for an hour or two. Believe it or not, for some softer couple time. Bondage is the best and most patient way to explore Charles’ body in full and to develop your rigging skills along the way. This is an art, and pretty red ropes (what else) fit a pretty boy well, don’t they.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

First off. You know the drill. His racing car is taboo. Some… other drivers would pull this. But not your very mannered guy. The garage, same thing. Charles behaves. Come on, that damn car. You wouldn’t squeeze in there either, who are we kidding. Keeping it classy, and if there’s nastiness, it is calculated or just in his head. Like Charles’ fantasy to have sex in the car while competing at Le Mans. He’s insane for this, but he will constrain that idea in his head for obvious safety reasons.

That he likes being pinned against a wall though, that can be arranged. Yuki would be proud of your expert kabedon. And not just the light version. Charles wants to get pushed against the surface ruthlessly, have you ripping at his shirt and collar, and he wants to get scolded. Quite submissive of you, Monsieur Leclerc. Some like it wild.

The superior place though? His yacht has a nice interior. The perfect spot. Superb privacy. It’s not just for sex, though. Charles has an open ear for your thoughts while it’s cuddle time or you’re having pasta there. He’s your bestie, you are giggling about a random Youtube video you’ve seen. Once you go on land, still laughing, you will look crazy to outsiders, but you are free. PS: Has long joined the mile high club with you. That’s been one of the first things you did together and oh boy, was it enjoyable. One of the horniest days in your history as a couple. You’ve done it again a dozen times after.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Would never admit simping over you, even if he’ll often say „Je t’aime“ in broad daylight. But he wears his mirror glasses for a reason. Nobody will notice how often he looks in your direction. Charles is in a precarious mindset about you very often. He knows it could all be over by the dawn of tomorrow, whatever the unforeseen event or split may be. Hoping that the odds are in his favor and in yours, but knowing all the ways of misfortune and endings all too well, Charles often tries to tweak his thoughts to be more shallow when looking at you: But in all cases, he fails. He’s a relationship guy, he can’t help it. He’s turned on by by thinking „I am her boyfriend.“

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Mind games. Someone with zero brain cells. And: Classical music. Or mainstream rap. Those stay off the sex playlist. Either would disturb his creative flow. Being, in essence, either too cheesy and epic, or too much in your face with mumbled punchlines. 90s rap, he would say yes. But with modern music, Charles needs a way more sensual way to color the room with background atmosphere… and puts on cringe tracks that you will promptly roast. Who listens to Vampire Weekend while fucking. It’s not like you’re slamming his taste, you’re just um putting on your own playlist and he’s gonna like it. Easy.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Let’s start with receiving. So. He doesn’t have a desperate preference, but he sure enjoys himself to the rare maximum. Like, really letting go. Which is a feeling Charles does not usually experience without any roadblocks. This man is violently cursed from experiencing pure joy. So naturally, you like to spoil him rotten. Charles is terribly weak for that. He’s a lips enthusiast. And he knows his dick is nice, he’s clean, so he got a nice pastime to offer in return.

What’s in his mind about it? That he has been blessed. When does life ever give this man a break except for a damn blowjob. He feels pathetic and never begs you to do it, but he’s also grateful. Charles is feeling very much alive again. His sexy hands are surely busy on you, too. It’s all big serotonin for Charles. Which is a concept you like. Something simple within ten minutes can paint a relaxed smile on his face. He sleeps like a baby afterward, and probably cooks you breakfast while dancing in the kitchen the morning after.

You do pay attention not to give him pleasure as a `substitute´. It’s not supposed to be a drug. And it can’t obscure the fact that he’s often faced with strife that needs to be overcome directly, by himself. Then again, you do like to comfort him by sucking him off. You can’t help wanting to do it, even if it contradicts your wish for Charles to come home from the circuit with a smile on his lips already. Since a big famous racing team is responsible for either fucking him over and ruining his mood, it’s a little complicated, though.

Whatever you do: Charles considers you an oral sex goddess, and even scorns himself for thinking he falls short vice versa. He works hard to reciprocate. You put dedication into it and really bother with techniques. Hands-free and shallow and deeper and twisting and tongue work and rubbing the sweet spots underneath, everything. It’s the passion that counts the most though, and you have it. Charles can’t like it enough. You can suck his dick until it falls off like a 2020 Mercedes tire. Fuck, does he taste good. Champagne bottles do pop differently when they’re from Monaco.

He likes the more energetic style of fellatio even if he is otherwise quite the sensualist. Some timid licks won’t do here, nor does a languid double-handed twist. He stays true to his endurance motto. And you’re similar to him. You wanna eat him up, you’re eager to see him tremble. Plus, you’re aware he’s a wanted man. You want Charles all for yourself. His moans, his dick, his body, his smiling. Charles asked you to be possessive. This is one of your ways of showing it.

Charles is pretty vocal with his back against any horizontal surface stable enough. He wants both of you to have plenty of cushion support. He typically rests his hands on your shoulders, or loosely palms your hair. What’s interesting to you is that Charles has actually been pretty stingy with blowjobs in his past. This is something special to him. He wants the lips wrapped around his dick to also say loving, encouraging words to him in other situations. Charles wants to deeply like you rather than just wait until you put him in your mouth and he won’t care about the rest. That he’s okay with you giving him head says a lot about what Charles thinks about you.

Saved the best for last: Giving. At first — Charles is actually a bit insecure, but in a way that you can work with. What steps to do? Where to look? How to move? He prefers it when your hands guide his head and put some gentle pressure on it. Teach him all the spots and directions, teach him all your ways. Initially, you wonder why a person who slept with a gazillion people is so not confident with eating you out. But you realize, Charles always needs a little push. He wants to please you the way you want it with an immense exactitude. His mindlessly horny encounters were… less ceremonious, and as you saw, not that heavy on the oral component from both sides.

That stuff was like. Hop on my dick, I give you a hot lap. Let me heat that engine, big finish, chequered flag, let’s kiss, goodnight, it was very good. I’m flying to another continent in two hours, you were amazing. Charles wants a bit more indulgence and deliberation this time, and a more correct technique. Giving head to party girls was like: So here we have Charles Leclerc and his aimless tongue finding random spots, making superficial 8s, and it’s all under time pressure! Going down on a complete stranger and figuring it all out in a minute, and the same applies to a blowjob, that’s just weird as hell. Charles’ opinion is, you have to know what they like in detail.

He regrets not having put more effort and education into it back then. Although, and that’s obvious to you but not him, his former slut life was clearly facilitated by his already far above-average sex talent. But yes: Now he can make up for lost knowledge. Which are more like, mere finishing touches. He’s quite proactive to catch up. And as you know, Sharl is a bit of a social butterfly. After getting advice from the number one sex coach in town, things are wildly different. You’ll hear sentences like „just cum on my face sweetie ♡“ and immediately know it’s the voice of Sir Lewis Hamilton speaking through him. You’re not surprised that Charles asked Lewis out of all people to level up. After all: No surprise, eating pussy is completely vegan. Instead of meat, I eat veggies and y/n — Eurovision fans will get it.

But you also raise a little brow at Charles’ loose lips. He really did kiss and tell there, huh. You’ll make him sign an NDA if he continues to consult people who so happen to frequently chat with Sebastian #TheGossipMan Vettel. Who will then spill the tea at a press conference for the world to hear. Instead of Charles just researching on the plain ole Internet and calling it a day. Your boyfriend apologizes profusely and realizes just how fast this intel could spread. Regardless, you compliment him on his choice of expert and are sure that Lewis will not pass on the information lest he wants his avocado toast stolen.

Instead of learning complicated tongue swirls, Charles has an easier time when you just sit on that Orlando Bloom of Formula 1 face and just ride on. Like properly. On your knees, facing his feet. Charles’ feet are fucking top tier. Did I mention his feet are great? Elegant, beautiful, aesthetic. Like the man himself. And no worries. He preps his beard so you won’t get hurt. Charles is now confronted with your ass doing all the work, but his horse neck can handle it, zero doubts there. In other words: At the beginning, he’s better at being passive than active. Gotta make that mattress squeak. You can drive it home on that glorious face. That will enter his mind permanently, just like what you did to his sexy suit.

But then again, he won’t give up on improving himself. At dinner, Charles has recently confessed to having a lot of sexual fantasies where he sees himself in 3rd person, pleasing you with his tongue like a pro. He thinks it’s a shame his lips aren’t very big and plump, but he does his best, zealously, to stimulate the right spots. Sometimes, you need to urge him to concentrate, he’s really trying and trying everything at once. Charles enjoys the effort to lick you up well. If he loves someone, he likes to figure them out.

„I wish I was a natural“ is his constant motto. He really makes no excuse. No wonder, because you’re so delectable. Your labia are so tasty to suck on, and the dripping wetness in the middle is his undisputed favorite thing. No wonder you are Miss Éclair. People with a bump on their nose simply are the best pussy eaters. Sorry, I make the rules. Charles will ruin his face in the best way possible by swiping his nose base to tip, upwards, making you gasp out loud. Somebody is getting the hang of it. Just imagine feeling his lashes on the insides of your thighs. Lucky you, lucky you. And him doing the thumb-tongue combo. He really goes for the podium in your heart, does he. Instant win.

If you are the goddess of oral, Charles feels very inspired to be the matching god. Standards, baby. You hold him back from pushing himself, but it’s clear he is a gifted student at almost everything, as is typical of him. In other words: Learning curve. Charles has you heated up like the comment section of George’s topless pics when he talks that extra sultry, heavy fucking French. „Mon rêve, how do you feel?“ Goodbye, man. Good fucking bye. Charles will cater to your voice kink until you’ve cum twice in a row. He is really starting to play to his strength these days, keep that guy.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

To be enjoyed with care. Charles’ brain is imploding when the speed picks up, and he’s turning into a messy hoe. Mind that he’s extremely strong by virtue of his job — Charles doesn’t want to hurt you or himself by acting out. He’ll have to hold his body back to match you, but he’s okay with it. Subbing clearly helps with that, too. He’s not at the risk of doing something disproportionate when he’s tied down. Charles can control his physique really well, but he still wants to be safe, fearing his arms could crush or sweep you in a wrong direction by accident. As always, he is paranoid of mistakes. That’s why Charles is comfortable being on the receiving and passive end especially, and will rather use his muscles for simply looking good laying there (hell yeah), and enduring rather than going on to dole something out.

At a certain point, he loses his usual athletic coordination and just closes his eyes. He will peak in no time and cry out loud. A mid-range speed is always the best way to go. Anything that will match a sped-up breathing pattern. Charles thought going steady is not his thing, because he’s a racing driver. But he does feel proven wrong with time and embraces it. Which adds to his sensual style, and that’s fucking hot.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

How does one even find time and inspiration for that. In the high-paced circus shitshow that is Formula 1? Well, easy: Charles has driven the 2020 car. He knows what it’s like to slow down and create his own lane. A little sex on the side, absolutely his thing. Charles is a quickie enthusiast of the highest order. He doesn’t call it quickies, though. He always refers to it as `little fun´.

But it’s more than fun. He could make out with you all day, even if he turns delirious. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, night. For example, he fantasizes about standing behind you at the kitchen counter in the afternoon. With his shorts a little pulled down. You eat together while you’re feeling him from behind. And the whole thing becomes more and more passionate, and, and— The oven goes up in flames.

Charles’ fantasies are always interrupted by an element of demise, added to the fact that he is already terrifyingly booked on weekends and in the factory. Which is why he has a mentality of improvising quickies rather than modeling them after what goes on in his head. His eagerness tends to backfire there. On some days, Charles might not even manage to get out of his own trousers by virtue of his dick situation, fumbling around aimlessly while kissing. Uncoordinated Charles and the helping hand of his domme — a match made in heaven. Admit it: You baby Charles too much and you enjoy it. But really: He needs that bit of extra TLC. And he’s on all fours to repay you, he’s fair.

So. It’s you who’s guiding his hands. Charles hesitating or not knowing how to move sometimes doesn’t mean he wants to safeword. His insecurities don’t root in you. You’re out of that equation. He definitely wants to sleep with his mon amour, out of question. He just needs some minutes to catch up and switch into off-the-paddock mode. It all works best when you indulge his inner romantic rather than fucking like rabid beasts. Being tender and focusing on the waves of pleasure will grant you a much better 15 minutes of little fun in the kitchen — without the oven on. Charles is already hot enough, aye.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s the kind of sub that sees something on the Internet says „Oh my god! Who would do that!“ and proceeds to ask for doing it five minutes later. Jesus fucking Christ, Charles. „But I guess we can try it out!“ is his battle cry. Needless to say: He needs a wise and circumspect partner who at the same time is very open-minded and resolute. It’s a lot to ask, but his best partner is an all-rounder domme. A lady who knows how to lead, but also strokes his cheeks and gives due praise. That way, it works out considering Charles often changes his mind and wants to go more extreme, more immersed. Roleplay, and the like.

There’s a negative side that you noticed, though. Charles infuses a lot of it with personal topics that he normally pushes to the side. He really wants to act and feel like you hate him sometimes, giving him severe punishments, stepping on him a lot more brutally, hitting him in the face hard with no regard to the consequence, and talking to him from behind a callous emotional barrier. In short, really mistreating him.

You’re not 100% okay with that and actually tell him off. You feel like Charles will end up misusing this dynamic without even noticing. To castigate his conscience, to grant himself a proxy to express the buried feeling of being really beaten down. Since his self-hate has terrible effects, he believes someone else hating him could free him of it: But it has to be someone who actually likes him, so that the situation is not real. Roleplaying seems to look like Charles’ coping. You understand the point of relief through a fantasy, but you still don’t agree that his reasoning is healthy or in any way effective for his career.

Even if they appear like immovable mountains, you animate him to rather face those problems outside of bed. He clearly has the zeal, that’s absolutely obvious to you. Charles can’t fix what happened, but he can think about the present day. Getting a sexual punishment won’t really let him move on. Guess why he likes bondage so much: It mirrors his feelings of constriction (alongside the burden of being il predestinato) and gives him the relief of being unbound after a session. Real-life doesn’t unbind him, which is why he keeps wanting to do it in kink, symbolically, and he asks you to do it again and again.

Even if you really enjoy tying him up and roleplaying — these types of Dom/sub play consume enormous time already, and with Charles, it feels like an emergency remedy. You can see where this is going: BDSM ain’t therapy. Especially since he’s a sub who tends to be on the receiving end of some pretty intense practices, you explain to Charles that it’s better to pursue sexuality for physical and spontaneous mental pleasure. Rather than, say to compensate for a larger life crisis that weighs too heavy on him to confront outside of sex. Or so he believes. Easier said than done, but you want to point it out to be sure.

It’s a bitter truth to swallow. And a criticism often unheard of. But it’s part of safe-sane-consensual that a partner will slam the breaks on any deeper issues that creep up. Dominating him should be no all-purpose sugar pill. It should be leisure that so happens to bring some extra dopamine. And if somebody agrees that being light-hearted is a hundred times more beneficial than compensating into a bottomless pit, it’s Charles. Hands down. This guy knows what you’re really talking about. There’s a reason why he thinks back positively to his karting days since that environment was more cheerful, not as serious and quickly punishing as being among the best drivers in the whole world.

He’s gladly aware and won’t deny it, which makes the situation easier. Charles has well observed that he’s not the most unbothered person out there. Somebody who refuses to be conscious of that is simply nerve-wracking to deal with. That mentality can shatter relationships. You are relieved that Charles listens. He asks to think about the concern for a while because he sees the point.

Charles misses a lot of people who took care of him. So, he’s swinging to one extreme of accepting his abandonment by asking his partner to act highly dismissive and degradingly towards him. Or, the other end of the pendulum: Of wanting to be doted on nonstop, reassured he won’t be left alone. You thought about it, and it told you something extremely important. That Charles is largely clueless about balancing his need for an authority figure. He either wants full distance or too much love, all to mitigate his perpetual inner turmoil. It really is what it boils down to. And it must be extremely painful. You understand why he wants a quick fix and can’t find the golden mean.

That’s also the reason why he could and would not attach in his hook-up days. Because these people just wanted good dick from a smoking hot guy (understandable), and then they took off. Abandonment. People showed up for his body, an orgasm, and the brief experience of the famous Charles Leclerc, the celebrity him. And now he’s with you, permanently, and it’s suddenly an elaborate power dynamic where he is the actual submitting party. Being taught discipline, and having somebody stand above him. Do you finally see why Charles is so interested in you now?

It takes a week until he sorts himself out, and you don’t really have sex until then. The breakfast table glances are extremely loaded with thoughts. Charles feels guilty for things digging so deep where you should be having a blast and enjoying life, especially with the amount of money and travel opportunities at his disposal. Coming to terms with his burdens on your sex life and this risk for your connection is already half the path to go, though. He values that you confronted him and want to know what really drives his actions. To Charles, that’s a testament to caring and sincerity.

He returns to sleeping with you after clearly stating that he’ll try his best to focus on being more moderate. Although he also says he’s afraid he can’t eradicate his submissive side, and moreover, and most importantly, he really needs you. You’re taken aback since that’s not really been a question to you. In your eyes, he can take your respect for these things for granted. Charles needing you is okay, and his interest in freaky stuff is okay when it’s done for the right reasons. Wanting to look up to someone is not a bad thing. Nor are you going anywhere anytime soon.

You’re here to chill out on red flamingo floaties in the pool and goof off, and bond in the sheets with your petit beau. And Lord knows who doesn’t love a subby Charles. You just don’t want him to fall into a further downward spiral of loathing, anger, compulsion, or rapid mood swings because of his grief. You’re literally right there for him. Which unburdens him a lot when he hears that from you, although he realizes that it’s a given when he looks at how you behave. And you depend on Charles a lot, too. You want him, badly, you can no longer deny it to yourself.

Charles goes on to promise that he won’t expect you to heal his losses, or give him an excuse to open up solely through kink stuff. As, he puts it like this, some kind of cover-up. While at the same time neglecting your needs and not centering his attention around you. „It was too selfish of me even if I had my reasons. I was drawing too much energy from you. That can’t be justified.“

Knowing that he’s not the only one who likes sweet stuff, Charles frequents a top-class confectioner to get an expensive, personalized chocolate basket as an apology. There are all kinds of treats in there, in fantastical flavors. He buys it not for showing off, but to show you the meaning of wanting you to be satisfied, and reassured. He doesn’t want to use you as therapy, forget your side of the coin, or please himself only, just to alleviate what spins around in his mind as an issue that should not slowly undermine your love life.

His grief is important. But it should not disturb the affection you’re sharing, even make you despise or control each other, or cause wreckage. What he does want is for you to stick around and be his anchor, or someone he can learn from to some extent. That’s what he really desires. Well, at the end of the day, you did teach him something there already, further proving his point. So, you don’t really have to do anything to assure Charles. You’re doing it naturally.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His abilities: Jawdropping. Charles is very invested in being able to go a lil’ longer than a meek two minutes. Charles is excited, but deliberating. He knows about the common irony that when he doesn’t focus on stamina, and just directs his pleasing to you, stamina is no longer a thing. Seeing a random homo sapiens naked does not send him into a wild frenzy. Charles has seen it all. He feels like that’s a plus, but also an obstacle.

You did notice that he is a bit desensitized, physically. His job is defined by pushing himself beyond all limits. He knows how to show his appreciation for you, but he’s also scarred by his former sex life which was endlessly repetitive. Being stuck in that rut kind of fried his brain, as do the constant fuckups in Ferrari’s racing strategy. Double whammy. There’s a reason why Charles wanted a permanent partner who had a different approach. What Charles dreams of is spicing it up with things he’s not done yet, conversations he’s not had yet, with somebody who’s the clever to match his stupid. Sapiosexual detected. „Ah, it’s like this? You’re a genius!“ — classic Charles phrase directed at you.

What’s not surprising and an advantage: He doesn’t really bother with picture-perfect appearances anymore. Someone being beautiful, extra-groomed and well-formed is amazing to him, but the result of having sex is always the same. Everybody wants a positive feeling out of it. The most otherworldly and rich sex partners he’s had were some of the most stress-laden personalities. Who had, pray tell, uncanny baggage in life and really suffered with no seeming way out. Copy-paste to Charles. Not so wholesome, and a natural relationship slash libido killer.

He’s aware of how jet set attractiveness is hard to create and maintain to begin with. Attractive people with by a thousand bees buzzing around them are just like him. Birds of a feather, a great spark at the beginning, common ground of popularity, but also twice the exact same issues combined. He already considers himself hard to date due to his fame, schedule, and a mountain of horrible things swirling around in his brain. A person who might look extraordinary but has as much pressure as he has? They’d barely hang out or find some opportunity for creating happiness. Dwelling on a deserving mentality, waiting for outside luck, doing chronic complaining, and overwork. Charles knows the drill. Even more detriments to stamina.

Double the extreme beauty in a couple might be common in his circles — doesn’t mean it’s beneficial. The paparazzi would tear the relationship apart, and Charles can’t just do his thing in peace from all the hype and envy. His partner’s looks will wind up irrelevant down the line. Only someone witty gets this guy off his phone, someone outrageous, a bon vivant who provokes him. Not a fellow celebrity who’s just clocking in for two minutes facetime, too busy making themselves presentable, smiling, posing, strutting around, pretending the world is happy and they are sexy, all that rotten phony Instagram delusion.

Chances are they have zero muse for talking passionately about racing or his mental health, and if they do listen for a second, it’s meant to gain approval points. Actually taking Charles’ circumstances to heart is more than just an `understanding´ hum on the phone. Imagine someone having that audacity and then going on to promote their own stuff online. In your words to him: Shrugging off your partner is a fucking insult. You have to get your hands dirty — in private — to really really show what you’re there for. Them. Not just yourself.

Charles doesn’t want to wait three hours until he can cuddle you. Every hair and lash in place, still insecure how you come across? Please no. His lifestyle does not allow for waiting. Everything has to be on the spot, and he wants a partner who has kick-ass swag five thousand. Not someone who caves as soon as Charles is struggling. They have to be strong! An iron will under the surface. He’s not Lewis finding time to fly to every fashion show within a radius of 24.901 miles aka the whole earth, nor a poker-faced Scandinavian driver with indestructible patience. Not to mention that he doesn’t want to peel you out of ten layers of whatever fabrics. Corsetry, tons of jewelry, complicated itchy hairstyles going all over the place and whatnot. Makeup caking in the heat of Bahrain, or sky-high shoes he can’t take you anywhere with for a getaway. Turn-off. Pragmatism is sexy.

PJ and athleisure: Just right. So comfy. And don’t say you’d rather go through all that dolling up forever rather than being in his arms right away. If you’re horny for Charles, you won’t postpone it. Everything else messes with your natural instinct. He gives zero fucks. Only being fresh out of the shower is a good idea, obviously. The same goes for the often sweat-drenched, stressed-out him. No double standards. Charles is a bubble bath hoe anyway, he smells like a rose garden. But yes — the guy’s not as superficial as his origin suggests. Which results in an interesting dynamic.

The psychological `glue´ between people is more impressive to Charles. He’s turned on by a person’s way of acting. He’s well-versed with body stuff. He’s in a contact sport, to understate it. On the other hand, if we’re talking D/s. Since he’s new to submitting, Charles is easily overstimulated. You can tell that he had lots of conventional sex that didn’t really target much of the body as a whole. BDSM, in a lot of disciplines, is a little more distinct and takes into account every nook and cranny. Which Charles is very enticed by. Imagine the effect of a single nipple clamp on this strong-ass Italian stallion.

Body endurance-wise, and that goes for the entire grid: High, of course. This guy’s job is doing a 2-hour Grand Prix almost every other week. Driving front of the grid, at immense speeds, with crazy focus. Steering and talking and drinking and pushing buttons and memorizing the track and racing the Top 10 and adhering (unfortunately) to strategy and… the list just goes on and on. Imagine the chemicals on fire inside this body. What an athlete.

So: Charles has the resilience. Sex is pretty easy on his circulation, it’s not a crazy cardio workout for him. He trains much harder stuff. Don’t mistake his lack of breaking a sweat fast for a lack of feeling, though. You’ll be able to sense it in his touch. I don’t have to tell you he’s courteous and affectionate and the cutest, you already know it. But also remember that Charles is careful to attach himself 100%, and not because he’s a player. This guy can’t even wink properly.

You know the reason why he’s hesitant to confide in somebody. And that his profession is an enormous hazard. He often has no clue whether to go the extra mile feeling-wise or not. If he does, that makes it so much harder to watch the race for you. If you can bring yourself to do that at all, after an especially spectacular night with him. It’s the price to pay. Keeping it lighthearted versus YOLO-ing the whole thing is the bane of your relationship. Charles wants to be emotionally available, but also no let-down or a tragic figure. You tell him, „Charles. That already shows you care so much.“ He’s loving regardless, no matter what he decides. He’s already invested, so why not go all the way and make it a relationship that lives life to the fullest?

Charles, knowing that entire emotional backdrop, gives the whole dynamic a touch of good friendship rather than aiming for Romeo and Juliet. And he doesn’t have to. Charles suffers from the invisible break on his romantic nature that wants to prepare you a candlelight dinner instead of doing an extra track walk. It’s the Sebastian Vettel effect: Either full power on the circuit, or full throttle at home: Choose one. The amount of times he asked another trusted driver about improving his thinking with those things, being vague enough about you but still desperately trying to find a solution, you would not believe it. Pierre has tried everything so Charles would not feel so conflicted.

Your boyfriend talks a lot to you about being in the mood for love and wishing he could pour rose petals to your feet every weekend when you woke up rather than being on the grid. But — if that’s not romantic in and of itself. Charles didn’t realize how words could be enough to tell you what he means. A thought can be priceless, much better than making something reality sometimes. Doesn’t mean a big candlelight dinners won’t take place when the season’s over. You are patient for Charles. That is also important stamina in relationships.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Aside from straps? The absolute minimalist. Not the type to ask being collared and put on a leash like a puppy: That’s Lando and Lewis territory. Charles is pretty reserved, he would not mass buy toys or experiment much. Anything that vibrates? Freaks him out. Your theory is that his phobia has to do with being a driver for Ferrari in particular. When something goes brrrrrrhh he automatically thinks he needs to box box immediately to get his car reconstructed from the ground up mid-race.

And whether that’s toys used on him or yourself, he’d also get a heart attack when the battery starts dying on him and the toy makes irregular noises. You know which ones I mean. As if it’s staggering. His driver mind goes like `Oh my god. The engine! What’s happening?!´ while you are already busy switching batteries like it’s no big deal. Anything that’s too high on the tech component and needs a whole-ass instruction manual makes Charles question his life choices. How would Charles spend his time stretching condoms over a Hitachi. That’s your thing, not the unsuspecting kitty’s. This man is far too traumatized by vibrating noises. So, please spare Charles of the toy mania unless you buy him a nipple pump for fun and plenty of laughter. Nipple stuff is fine. But nothing too fancy.

His blissful ignorance is amazing. He has no idea how a vibrating constriction ring works and what that even is. Charles can tell you what a Hockenheim Ring is, a Hungaro Ring, a Nürburg Ring, and a Red Bull Ring, but some super specific toys? He’s too confused and doesn’t want to find out. This dude has enough electronics to deal with on the regular. Like. Charles thinks anal beads are a home decoration. Okay, he’s not that naïve. But you get the point. In his mind, brrrrrrhh equals red alert.

Obviously, he doesn’t mind if you have your own little collection to masturbate by yourself, it’s just not his cup of tea to use as a couple. He also doesn’t like watching you in a weird way. He’s more likely to offer helping you himself, or he listens to some music in another room, or he’s gaming. He’s not gonna disturb you doing what you like doing. He might enjoy seeing you please yourself with your fingers, just laying there half relaxed half on edge, but even then, he can’t stop stroking your thighs. It’s either no contact or full contact.

In the same vein: Those sexy black harnesses you bought for him to try on make his dorito body tingle in the oddest ways. Tip: Mail them to the Mercedes and McLaren garage instead. It will be highly appreciated. Sir Lewis, Prince George, and Mister Ricciardo will slay the house down on their social media with those. Lando will use them um, privately. Charles, and this is very chic and extra of him, prefers a nice homemade rope harness that’s specifically crafted by you. It’s just more intimate and beautiful because it’s temporary.

You tie it in front of two mirrors so he can see what you do in the back and front, and you always see his face, too. He prefers the more complicated stuff rather than just beginner’s bondage. Shibari is right up his alley. So, if ropes count as toys rather than accessories or tools, then this is it, this is the one. And I mean. This is no surprise. At all. It’s the nature of the sport. Every Formula 1 driver has the strongest safety belts and trains their body with harnesses on strings, you know the ones. That crazy painful G-Force neck and shoulder workout. If that’s not high-end BDSM, I don’t know. The creepy torture machines F1 drivers have in their gyms? Gives any dominatrix a run for her money. And tell me what kind of utensil Charles uses to warm up? A jump rope. Bingo. He has such a thing for that stuff.

Ropes aside. If we’re talking classic masturbation helpers: Charles’ skeptical gaze says miss me with that Jurassic Park stuff. Because that’s what toys look like to him. Would never use even the most basic toy on himself if his life depended on it. He might be curious, but Charles thinks it’s really embarrassing and gross to clean it all up. He doesn’t have time for that. The same goes for using anything on you, he just thinks his hands and thighs do a better job than „creepy dinosaur toes and purple plastic snails“ as he puts it. What on earth does he mean by purple snails, what has he seen? He refuses to elaborate. It’s probably better that way.

Besides, and he is honest here. This sinnamon roll had so much Quali traffic in his early years before he got to the main GP in this relationship — and he notoriously masturbates like a jackhammer, careful Charles don’t hurt yourself — he needed no fleshlight ever. That all amounts to Sharlie being on the fence with toys. Except, and we summarize: For nip stuff and bondage supplies. See the positives: No extra cupboard needed. And: That Charles is not a big tech enthusiast speaks volumes of his confidence to make you climax.

By the way: He thought lube is a lame alibi, while spit or being extremely horny are the answers. Fair enough, you can spit on his dick or in his mouth any day of the week. Essential skill. And you have no problems getting the hots for Charles. We’re talking wetter than Monaco 2022, and it has really been pouring down there. Meanwhile, your approach is the exact opposite. Tops see the whole thing from a different perspective. You would literally bathe in lube with Charles, swim in it, and: Roll out the big bottle on him when his ass is about to get destroyed. He will thank you on his knees and realize the value of a good lubricant. Charles is soon returning from the groceries with new stock.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s always the one who catches your eye by looking so good and tasty. Charles being so pretty and delicious really is a way of teasing. That logic cannot be argued with. But yes. You womanhandle the living shit out of him. Charles walking around with blue balls is the best thing ever. This shit will have him melting down because he tries to control himself so much. Which spurs him into even fiercer masturbation minutes later. You have some very sexy solo videos of him on your phone, with good lighting and sound quality.

Fairness as a whole? You do something good and caring for him, it goes on his mental list to make sure you feel reciprocated on the right occasion. Although he knows some people wouldn’t like that style of relationship, he sees a need for a certain back and forth. If you come home and give him the biggest hug ever, he will come home and give you the best back massage ever on the exact day where you feel tense. It’s not always reciprocating with the same thing, but with what’s appropriate.

I know: He’s the most blatant Libra ever. This man is ruled by Venus, baby. Mutual uplifting, he reveres his lady. Charles always nails the presents for you. As if his face was not the gift already, but that’s beside the point. He also creates proper quality time as often as he can, jet ski dates beloved. And there’s so much more, he never runs out of ideas. Charles’ thought process: „So many things to do with her!“

Amusement park rides at night, food buffets, motorboat cruises for two. Bowling. Pool billiards. Going to a swimming pool with artificial waves (so much fun). Baking you pizza with exquisite ingredients he bought with great care. Going to a top-class barber together. And the like. All presented to you with a wink. Not boring stuff like golfing — ugh — and blah, although he does flex his legs and silhouette there so props to that. If we’re talking fairness, he’s always more than that. Cash can’t buy love, but it can embellish it by making memories when it’s already there. Charles is using his money wisely.

This man rolls out the red carpet under your feet or throws himself into the puddle you walk across — and he is the celebrity. Let that sink in. Charles is fucking humble. Rather than thinking of himself as a walking piggy bank, a reason he won’t disclose is that he’s aware how his good pay when there’s a good reserve and you have that privileged opportunity, needs to be used for the present moment to do what it’s supposed to do. He has an actual reason to consider that there might be nobody who could eat a big pasta plate with you anymore by tomorrow. Carpe diem, baby.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Medium volume. At first. Guy doesn’t even know he can and will go much louder when it comes to… some type of pain play. Before he has to show up in the adjacent hotel rooms to go „Um excusez-moi“, it’s all constricted to your personal estates. So, he screams his lungs out at home for the most part („Oh, my ass—!“), and just breathes really hard everywhere else. Charles is any dom’s wet dream when he gets loud and responsive, and really creative with his expression. Makes you wanna say, good job, baby. He’s such a talker, too. Even mouth gags cannot stop him. And, as before. He is pleasant in every facet, so Charles’ sexy time noises are no different. Especially when he receives praise. Oh my goodness me. The praise kink is real. He will cum in five seconds if the compliment hits right.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the person)

Your first time meeting? How else could it be, just days before a Grand Prix. And which GP? You guessed it. Miami. You got a free paddock pass for being an influencer and bumped into Charles at the fake marina just minutes before Free Practice: In your super skimpy bikini. And then you just made out with him after the race. Party in the city when the heat is on— No I’m just kidding. Of course you met in Monaco.

Alerted by some very strange noise outside, you scooped up this wet poodle of misery with your bare hands. From a random edgy premise at 4 AM, an empty low-rise socialite building you sort of lived next to. He crashed at this place after an unhinged party and really didn’t know why. A hungry as hell Charles floated in the water with swollen eyes, making the pool close to overflow with his tears. He was actually about to open an XXL flask of absinthe he got from a house bar to top it off. Yeah, fuck.

You were like, what’s going on there! You went down, squatted at the pool and said, put this bottle of poison away and come out, you need something to eat, man. Just because you can cleanse a wound with that liquid doesn’t mean it works on your soul. Thank God this house is vacant because I think you’re trespassing. And Charles went „oh mon Dieu I’m such a loser I’m the worst“ and you were like „no you’re just naked in cold water, let’s go upstairs“. And Charles was like „okay“ and reluctantly put the alcohol aside, even he didn’t have an idea where and who he was anymore at that point. Hell, he was already extremely drunk. You gave him your jacket to cover up down below, then helped him climb nothing short of 80 stairs with wet feet.

An XXL American-style deep-frozen pizza with extra pineapple later (to shock his Italian brain back to reality), Charles was rambling and rambling. With a mere towel around his hips, saying „guess I just give up and see what happens“. Eventually collapsing on the table face down, Charles ended up dragged into your bed. 69 kilogram and his legs were still on autopilot, so that was doable. Your couch was nice and comfy so you moved there after checking if you had anything toxic that Charles could drink in your flat while sleepwalking or waking up earlier than you. Just to be sure.

Months later, Charles said he thanks you for „not taking advantage“ of him then and there. It would have been easy to just take off the towel, or just do whatever thing with him. You say man, what the fuck Charles. You were a sobbing mess. This guy has really been surrounded by psychopaths, leeches, betrayers, and manipulators everywhere. Hell, Charles almost forgot his own name from all that crying. He needed a damn shelter, bed, and something warm to drink.

Back there, you felt like Edna Mode from the Incredibles giving her big speech on how to stand up and fight. You wound up driving Charles to the track the next day after getting hangover sushi for lunch. He asked for your number, and you said Charles, I work right here in the paddock. You’ll see me walk around, now eat this chocolate bar and put your chest out walking with pride. He said what, are you a good Samaritan, and you said no I just move some Formula 2 Pirellis around. Now get to work, there’s a title to win! Veni, vidi, vici! And off he goes.

So you just kept on rolling stuff around as always and saw Charles’ helmet turning whenever he passed you. You did wave at each other. Later in the afternoon, you saw the Ferrari team, soulless faces all around, in shambles during a routine stop. You came along and grumbled, why is everything so uncoordinated and untidy here. Step aside horse hoes, I will rearrange your tires, this is a safety hazard. The team said who the hell are you and Charles said wait she’s my friend. Okay so that’s how you’re rolling and rearranging things around for Ferrari, including Charles’ baby step confidence, but it’s not like he didn’t need it. Your logic is simple:

His iconic booty is already racing around at 300 kilometers per hour. In an oddly-shaped circle. He can steppy step on some pedestals and steery steer this little expensive computer wheel. He has sexy balaclava lines, great feet, and nice eyebrows. How could someone not win a championship like that. He just needs a team that can roll the tires correctly at the right point in time, that’s all. Bewildered, the Scuderia tells you mamma mia there is so much more to it, like what about this and that DRS issue and other teams and— but you insist, no folks. Stick to the basics first.

Busted suspension? Who the hell cares, duct tape is a thing, takes a good mechanic three seconds. Charles is just as fast regardless! He doesn’t even need the car, the car needs him. Corroded engine? Duct tape again. Rival teams are acting shady? Nobody cares! Just check if you have enough duct tape with you! Gotta focus on one damn goal! Just let Charles be good-looking and press some buttons and everything will be alright. Blend out the others, he should just be careful not to hurt himself or someone else. Just drive round and round and get tires when you think you need `em. That’s it. The motto has stuck with him since, actually.

Charles qualified third and won on Sunday. Big party, spell break celebrations, everything. He was crying right in front of you again. You agreed to meet for pizza without pineapple the next day. At your’s, because it’s cozier. This time, Charles — without a hangover — brought the pizza along and it was perfectly soppy in the middle, with crisp edges like his jawline, oh duh. Guess who was the happiest man on earth and got a little kiss on the nose goodbye.

Charles stumbled into the new race week a little love drunk which some mechanics noticed, but they were also too busy rolling around the tires the way you told them to. Since Charles suggested you travel to the next GP instead of working in F2, you packed your stuff and did as you always did next Sunday in Baku. Charles followed the exact guidelines and just sat there looking good, steering his Sharliemobile in a circle, the whole shebang, and earned P2. The curse truly was dissolved by the power of pineapple on pizza. It was like a reset for his neurons.

Charles had a new philosophy. Rule #1, if he made a mistake, he just shrugged and pressed another button. On it went, there was always another chance to slay. Rule #2, if somebody wronged him, he was unfazed, too fast to linger. After all, racing was nothing more than a hobby, and he knew what he was doing. The more Scandinavian the approach, the better. Charles didn’t need rehab or new team staff. He needed some Hygge in his life. On track, and with a partner. Ease in his body, ease in his mind.

Five weeks later, Charles asked if you could be his girlfriend because he had one big fat crush on you.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Look at my horse, my horse is amazing. So we’re talking car equipment of the number one Monégasque Megawhore (trademarked). Now this Ferrari doesn’t have an engine failure nor faulty smokin’ breaks, believe me. And I mean. Look at this lil’ freak. His way of walking is the weirdest way of human movement. Charles’ shorts are always sitting suspiciously low. He constantly tweaks and pinches at his racing suit, it’s so painfully tight. Somebody save him.

He’s literally wearing swim trunks that say ICONIC on them, in bright neon so everyone will know and the competition can sashay away. Charles also has to spread his legs sluttishly wide when he sits down not to get super uncomfy. Come on man, pick up some loose trousers and close your legs instead of wearing fabric that holds everything in place and— Oh. Hum, what could that mean. Not one clue. But science tells. How on earth could he have had a rendezvous with every possible single his age if Charles had no one-size-fits-all dick. Seriously. It really has a bit of everything. An enviable universal appeal.

Very slight upward curve, but it’s well-aligned. No slant to the side. Mister Charles Leclerc junior stays off the track limits, baby. A proper tip, but it’s not disturbingly formed. Some sleek thickness to it, but he’s not too heavy nor just — awkwardly flops around. Yikes. Nothing like that here. He’s not really huge, and he’s not really small. Because he’s Charles, he has lied about his inches total, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that he’s nice and meaty the way he is. You’re particular about this, but you like your hand wrapped around him. Charles holds his breath when you do that. He’s just on edge, don’t make fun of him.

He’s not too flexible either, but also not one thrust away from his dick breaking in half. Doesn’t look cut, but he’s also not uncut. Not veiny, but it’s also flushed and light. Yes, I know — It’s still hard to picture it. So let’s just say it looks very good like everything on his man. No big news. You’ll make it clear to him, nothing to be insecure about. After all these phone numbers he got, Charles is still not happy and finds flaws? Damn. To raise his esteem, what do you do? Well, not what has failed to lift his esteem in the past: More sex. Instead, you’re doodling cute NSFW caricatures into his burn book to make him laugh. Laughing is the best medicine. Who knew silly drawings could make him feel better about himself, but it works.

And last but not least. Pubic hair. Of course, as dark as his legendary eyebrows. It’s the Italiano in him, va bene. Even a close shave will not get rid of the shadow underneath the skin. It’s not too messy, not too stubbly. All in all, class act.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Charles is on fire. Boy started wilding topless since the year began. If the season is shit, he can at least be down bad. By the sheer power of languages, Charles has French, Spanish, and Italian style libido combined. He could not keep this up without an equally horny partner. They need to have an obsessive craving for his body. Your guy does not leave the house without condoms. He is ready anytime there is relative privacy, and you are dying to rip his pants down. Charles gets hard pretty fast.

What kills his yearning is a bad day at work, and that has consequences. Seeing Charles struggle has the same effect on you. It doesn’t comfort either of you to just postpone your vexation and replace it with an orgasm. Nor is it a good idea to fuck Charles if his body had to deal with the enormous impact of thudding against a track wall. When he is worn out and depressed, it’s no good to milk him for attention or pleasure. Fatigue is extremely tough to alleviate with sex, whether that be vanilla or not. Charles has no other solution for that than time. You feel for him when he’s retiring the car or missing crucial points. In fact, you cannot comprehend how Charles can bear this inhumane level of constant misfortune and mishandling of his career.

In the same vein, and exactly because Charles cannot stand you looking as ruffled as him, your boyfriend caters to your every need when you have cramps and feel no libido at all. When you feel sick, this stuff is constantly in his head. He thinks, she must feel so uneasy. Or, I hope I wasn’t too loud in the morning making breakfast. Recently, Pierre has given Charles an instructive TED talk on how to mend cramps and body aches. So that advice will be in action, although Charles has to text Pierre to repeat bits and pieces sometimes. „Je suis désolé. My brain is a sieve.“

Charles adds his own touch by cheering you up with his prettiness (very effective) and cuddly body heat, which is the perfect mix. During those days, he seems to be obsessed with peppering your head with countless kisses, and you actually switch positions for once, he big-spoons you. So his hands can go rub rub and say „sorry that you are hurt, mon coeur“. Charles can’t stop kissing and kissing and putting his face in your hair, too. He’s touchier than usual without even being conscious of it, and he doesn’t celebrate a pole for longer than an hour when you’re at a hotel, tucked into bed nauseous.

You didn’t expect him to hurry back to the place you’re staying at, but it’s a pleasant surprise. He brought a ton of your favorite snacks from the groceries. Bébé spent a fucking fortune. Big ass sandwich, pastries, choco cake, muffins, that one ramen that just never fails to taste amazing, tangy cookies, a mango, paprika crisps, brioche, croissants, and strawberries. Express pain killers and pads your size on top. Boom.

Could he be a better boyfriend? Except for the fruit, he can’t eat any of it because of his diet, but he’s happy to see you eat. He admits it… since Charles doesn’t want to cheat his food plan too much, he lives vicariously through you a little there. You can literally pick from the whole store and stock up without going there. Charles, you legend. He’s so nonchalant about it and just goes to order you some tea from the hotel kitchen, serving it like a butler at the bed. You are the queen of Monaco. Charles also calls you a cute little hamster, though. Hamster mom to be exact, and he is hamster papa, fluffy as he is with that hair.

His recent specialty is helping you shower, picture this pup with a big ole sponge asking „is this okay“ every other second. He genuinely helps. Sometimes, it makes your heart sink that Charles extends more endless concern towards your painful days than toward himself, and you do tell him that. Charles realizes that he could inspire himself from the acts of service he does for you because some driver self-care never hurt anyone. It’s okay to eat a little snack for the soul every now and then.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Before sex, he tends to keep himself awake and ready by doing some light exercises. Warms up his muscles, warms up his torso, which gives off a snuggly heat when you make love. His favorite time of the day to have sex is in the evening. After all that hustle and bustle is long faded, he’s slacking off, he’s showered and shaved again. Only so many hours in a race week — Charles can enter the twilight zone in ten minutes after. Until then, you make sure everything’s cleaned up and dressed up and wound down and switched off. It all follows a certain regimen.

Sleep becomes extremely valuable when you’re on the move. You are 24/7 adventurers and travel enthusiasts, dwelling at a new quay every week to watch the water. Charles and you always look for interesting protected places to go. Charles has his arm across your shoulders often because he is just so huggy. You sometimes fall asleep in a different country than where you wake up, the jet lag is real here. Which also means, you don’t just go all night and forget the rest of the day. Resting as a couple is your number one hobby more than you assumed. It's good to chill with your honey to recharge. The best place to sleep is on your bébé’s chest to hear and feel him breathe.

Charles can’t sleep without you laying down on top of him. More often than not, he gets pretty bizarre dreams otherwise. If you can call it dreams. All kinds of unsolicited graphic nightmares, and that’s a far better description, can drive him into a 4 AM scare, and a gut-wrenching discomfort until he rolls over to you, gladly thinking „everything’s fine, everything still there as it always is“. He often plays with your hair in his sleep to calm himself down. You do the same, he tells you, when you’re the one being exhausted. Who can blame ya. Charles Leclerc… Sleeping beauty right there. Caressing each other is a natural antidote to a bad night.

read charles a-z on ao3

✿ FINAL NOTE. ⇢ i just wanted to post something sexy and instead i’ve been writing and crying my heart out 😔 thanks for reading, i hope this hit home and made y’all laugh. look at my horse, my horse is amazing 🙌 reblogs and esp comments always welcome 💞

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microwavdhamstr · 1 year

Text

too cold

bucky barnes x f!reader

bucky can’t stand the cold, you keep your air conditioner as low as possible.

warnings: hydra, bucky has a nightmare(are we surprised), whatever warnings normally come with bucky

notes: i have some oneshots drafted but i need some more ideas. feel free to share and i’ll see what i can do :)

wc: 1.6k

you run warm. it's one of bucky's favorite things about you. he finds comfort in your radiating heat and will do anything to absorb it. he always finds a way to make physical contact with your skin when he's on edge, knowing the warmth would soothe him.

you run warm, so your house usually runs cold. especially in the summer. you often had the air conditioner set as low as possible, running a fan right next to you at all times.

bucky has been living with you for a few months now and, being late june, everything is hot. the air outside feels thicker than the sweat that cakes your skin. the thought of a warm shower was enough to make you sick. blankets no longer live on your bed, but scattered on the floor.

you run warm, but you hate the heat. you hate feeling like a radiator constantly, always sweating unless you were shivering. you always love the chill of bucky's vibranium arm as it feels like an ice pack. a break from the heat.

bucky previously had no knowledge of your hatred for your temperature. that is until he was met with your heat-induced irritability.

you would set the ac to 50, ready to bundle up with a blanket in the cold air, but it would never quite create the desired environment. it took you a few weeks to learn that bucky was raising the temperature. or turning it off to open a window. at first it wasn't a bother, but a few days of no cool air in the dead of summer was just too much for you.

"doll, there's a nice breeze. let's the cool air in instead of raising your energy bill."

"i don't care about the goddamn breeze, buck, it's too hot. i can't stop sweating and now i'm sticky. i'm so fucking hungry but too warm to eat anything other than ice cubes. i need the air on."

and after some unnecessary yelling from you, he obliged. not happily, he clearly seemed upset about the decision, but he should know by now he can talk to you about his issues. if he's upset, he'll tell you.

except he's not upset. not at all. he loves that you're happy again, he loves that you're taking care of yourself, he loves that you're not cranky anymore. but he's scared. and his fear always drove him away from you until it couldn't anymore.

this time it only took six days.

six days of shivers. six days of caution. six days of looking over his shoulder in the dark. six days of crippling fear.

you should have known there was an issue before he woke you up at two am. looking back now, all the missed signs were giant and neon and blinking right in front of you. yet somehow it went right over your head.

it was a slow start, his decent into madness. he was just slightly more brooding and irritable. slightly quieter. slightly more reserved. and much more touchy.

"hey, jamie, how was your day?" you ask when he gets home.

"hm, fine." he grumbles as he sits on the couch and pulls you into him, like you're his own personal blanket.

by the third day he became jumpy, on edge, defensive if someone got too close too quickly. you thought it was just a quiet nightmare that had him on edge. the ones that didn't wake him up often set him off a little for a few days.

the last three days were meshing in his mind. he was losing sleep, too cold to rest comfortably. of course he made sure you didn't find out, not wanting to worry you or disturb the peace you found in the cold. he was constantly looking over his shoulder, even in the safety of your home. he was barely eating, he was layering clothes or blankets beyond belief. he always needed you on top of him, needing to steal your body heat as if he couldn't produce his own.

so yeah, you probably should've realized something was wrong with him. maybe it was the extra clinginess that threw you off his scent.

his nightmares, while still often, have become less frequent, less intense, and much less emotionally taxing for the super-soldier. and you being there was a huge benefit as you were able to ground him before he got too lost in his own head.

so when you're woken up by the scream and pleads you haven't heard in months, you panic. usually you can tell which part his life he's seeing based off of what he's saying. and right now, he is muttering some of the most upsetting things you'd ever heard fall from his lips. you can tell he's not inflicting pain on others, but receiving it. he's being tortured. he's begging and pleading for the suffering to end.

"nono, please. stop, please. 'can't take an'more. j'st kill me, please, kill me." it's as if someone punched a hole in your chest, ripped out your heart, shredded it before your eyes, and made you swallow it. just imagining what could possibly have happened to him for him to beg for death. for him to want the sweet release so desperately.

you spring into action, the way you have many times before. it's practically muscle memory by now. you take his thrashing frame in your arms and coax him awake.

it takes a moment to pull him out, and another for him to really see you there, but he does. he pulls you in as tight as he can before wrapping the two of you in every blanket he could reach. your skin fills his body with the warmth he needs and the blankets are sure to trap that heat.

you whisper to him sweetly, soothing his mind until his heart rate is steady and he can breathe properly. giving him all the time he needs to just hold you, feel you, believe you're real.

"it's alright, honey," you speak softly, "it's okay, i'm here. they can't hurt you anymore, i'm right here with you."

he just holds you tighter for a moment, needing to collect his thoughts before he speaks.

"you back, baby?"

"cold" was all his dried throat could manage.

"you're cold?" he nods, "want me to turn the air off?" his arms tighten around you once more, until they let you go and he gives another nod.

so you turn the air off, not capable of thinking about your own temperature anymore, and you grab some more blankets for him.

after giving him the blankets, you slide under them and move his head into your chest. he turns and hugs your torso into him further, burying his face into you while you play with his hair.

"better, hun? need more blankets?"

"mm, jus' need you." you plant a small kiss on the top of his head.

" 'm right here, buck, not goin' anywhere." you hold him there while he dozed back off into a, hopefully, dreamless sleep.

as much as you want to know what happened, you know not to pry immediately. he's too sleepy and it's still too fresh in his mind, you can talk about it in the morning like always.

it does upset you to think he had come so far with his nightmares to suddenly be thrown back into one that bad. you couldn't help but theorize all the possible reasons behind it. but in all of your possibilities, the temperature of your house had never occurred to you. you never imagined that would have been what set it off.

——————————————————

you wake up before bucky the following morning in the same position you fell asleep in, which was normal after a nightmare. you continue playing with his hair softly until he wakes.

after a few minutes he begins to stir, not once loosening his grip on you. "mornin' doll." his voice raspy and deeper like it always is in the morning.

"morning baby. feeling better?"

"much, thank you."

"no need to thank me, buck, i'm always here for you."

"yeah, well... thank you anyway."

“so what was it this time?” he figured you’d ask, you always do. and he knows he can tell you, he knows you won’t judge him, he knows you’ll be there for him, supporting him no matter what.

“cryo” he mumbles. that’s when it dawns on you. he was literally too cold. he hates the cold. because it reminds him of his time spent frozen in that stupid lab.

“oh, bucky, hun, i’m so sorry, i should’ve realized, i-”

“no, ‘s alright, doll. i should’ve told you before it got that far.”

“is that why you kept turning the air off?” you know the answer but you just want him to get it off his chest. he nods before he speaks.

“i still feel it sometimes, when it’s too cold. the shocks. and they never took the arm off for cryo so it burned my shoulder when it got too cold. i dunno, it still scares me. like one day i’m gonna wake up and be right back there, thawing out and being thrown into a new mission. or in that stupid fucking chair.” you trace your fingers around his back as you feel him tense at his memories.

“it’s perfectly normal for you to feel this way, buck. i should’ve realized sooner. and i promise you will never wake up to anyone but me ever again. i’ll always be right here, nobody can take you away from me, my love.”

“i love you so much, doll. don’t know what i did to deserve you but i’m glad i did it.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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thewritersaddictions · 1 year

Text

The Wanderers: Negan Smith- Oh, Hell P2

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader, Rick grimes & Platonic!Reader, Daryl Dixon & Platonic!Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, sex shops (Talk of sex toys), Negan is a warning you can't change my mind, Negan being a dick as usual, violence, physical abuse, sex, reader talking to themselves, fears.

Summary: On a search for things you find a sex shop; coming back to Alexandria you put the items you found amount the other things going to Negan. It leads to an interesting conversation with Negan.

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers. I might have gone overboard, but when the thoughts keep coming you just gotta keep writing.

WC- 6.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List

I grabbed more clothes than I think I’d ever held in my entire life. Anything and everything on the racks. The bags that I had leftover were filling up quickly. Daryl watched as I gazed over the kid's clothes. Baby's clothes had been untouched for so long that a thin layer of dust was on all of the, “We should grab some stuff for Judith.” Daryl said looking over at me through the clothes racks. Including everything I had I stuffed so many clothes into the three bags that I wasn’t able to properly close any of them. It would have been easier if I could fold them and then put them in the bag, but Daryl and I knew we didn’t have time to be so OCD about the moment.

I gave the three bags I had to Daryl. There was a shop that had caught my eye when he first arrived. In big bold pink letters above the shops doors read “Right Spot” A clever name for type of shop it was. A sex shop was in this small little town. Probably not there because anyone in the town wanted it there, but because people were always passing through, and what do you see on the side of the road all of the time when driving through hilltops and country roads. Sex shops.

I thought for a moment. If I walked over here and grabbed anything I might have to explain myself to Daryl, but maybe I wouldn’t. I had to take the chance, and anyways I had heard through the grape vine when we all sat on our knees that fateful night that Negan had many wives. Five or more wives, so maybe if I grabbed something to be helpful and nice to the ladies and to Negan then he wouldn’t be giving me thought unwanted winks, and stares. I was slow to enter the building. The window displays still showed a little bit of lace thrown on plastic frame.

My gun drawn. No way there was any walkers in this building. When the zombies hit the world it was nearly twelve at night. Not a soul should or would be here. I pushed the door open. When I opened the door, it looked like this building had never been touched. Not a thing was a disrupted on the walls. Racks filled with things that helped out during sex, or just helped out during your own private sessions.

Dildos, lube, vibrators and evrything else you would see in a sex shop was littered all around me. It was hard to take in the smell. It was perfect to the what the world smelt like before the zombies came and devoured half the damn population. I needed to be quick about this or Darly would come looking for me. I ran to the back table. Looking around for one of those black bags. When I found one, i grabbed more then one. I looked out into the aisle that I was now taking for my own.

I reached for the first thing that I saw. A few dildos all different sizes and skin tones. Anything that would pleasure any women that was alone by herself. If Negan was shit to us then I could only imainge what he was like to his wives, or how he acted in bed.

I shook my head at the thought of Negan in bed. He probably had that hot dad bod. Not cut but toned perfectly. From there I started to shove vibrators into the bag grabbing a few bottles of lube. My own over shoulder bag, was empty of something for myself. Should I even grab something? ‘Y/n just grab a damn vibrator, your fingers aren’t cutting it anymore.’ The thought ran so fast past my head that I just reached out for whatever I could find. Grabbing them and shoving them into my shoulde bag. I shook my head and tied the back shut before walking out back into the horribly smelly world we now lived in.

I threw the bags into the back of the sedans back seat. My own over shoulder bag hitting the floorboard. “so , Right spot?” Daryl said as he turned the engine over. I looked over at him, “Don’t even D.” I said looking back onto the long street. The sun was half way through the sky when we started out drive back to Alexandria.

When we arrived, the gates to Alexandria open letting us in. It was dark outside by now, and not many people where awake beside the guards that sat near the gates. Daryl pulled the car to stop, and without a word spoken between the two of us. We both got out, I grabbed the bags of food, while Daryl grabbed the many bags worth of clothes. We walked in sync to the storage garage. Dropping the bags. I went back to the car to grab the black bag, and my own personal bag. With that I took it all back to my house.

Negan would be back in just a few days. Five days to gather anything else that we could find. Another group went out the next day. Rick and Michonne stuffed themselves into a car saying goodbye to Carl and Judith. That morning I went over to the storage garage and put all the food up on the metal shelves. Diving everything would be the hopes of what Negan would be asking for.

As I packed things away in their resepted spots I heard the light walking behind me. Carol was behind me, baby judith on her hip. “Hey Y/n, you and Daryl managed to get rather a large load.” She said, bouncing Judith on her hip. I looked up, “Yeah, we found a town that hadn’t even been ransacked. It was nice.” I said, turning back to sorting the can foods. “We all saw Negan give you that look.” Carol said. Her tone was softer then usual. Like even she didn’t want him to see him the next time he came by Alexandria.

I hummed along with her. “Everyone?” I asked, if everyone had seen it then that meant that Negan was fine with being a dick infront of everyone on a different level. Different level of dick then before. “Yeah and we are family so we won’t let that dirt bag touch you.” Carol said, walking over towards me. Her hand resting softly on my shoulder. Carol was like the mother of our whole group, the comforting person that all of us came to when we were in need.

My thoughts took me over when Carol and Judith left. Had everyone seen the seductive way that Negan had winked at me, how he licked his lips. As if I was some great meal that he was just waiting to eat. Was I terrified to see him the next time? No, I wasn’t terrified, I was worried that this would gett out of hand. That Negan was going to have no boundaries and want to see or talk to me.

Alone. What could possibly happen if we were alone?

For the next few days a whole new set of groups went out. Thinking that the more we grabbed the longer that Negan would hopefully leave us alone. I did everything I could to take my mind off Negan and his crew coming to our gates in just a few days. I orginaized the clothes into genders, and I grabbed the baby clothes I got for Judith and took them to where Rick and Michonne were staying. I wasn’t aware just how quiet I had gotten over the past several days since i talked to Carol. When I got to Ricks. I softly knocked on the door, not sure if Judith was asleep or not.

Rick answered the door and let me in. “Y/n? Everything alright?” Rick said as I stood in his living room. I shook my head, “yeah I’m fine I just wanted to give you these clothes I grabbed for Judith while Daryl and I went out.” I said, setting the folded clothes on to the couch. “Oh, thank you Y/n, I was just starting to think that we didn’t have anything for Judith to size up into.” Rick said coming over. He scanne through the clothes before looking back over at me.

“He comes back today.” I said. I was scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen. Personally I was scared for myself, but then the idea that we were even in this situation it was even worse to think about. “Yeah he comes back today.” Rick said, sitting down. “But I think from everyone who went out we got enough ohold him off.” Rick said patting the couch cushion for me to sit down next to him.

“But what if it’s not enough, Rick?” I asked, looking over him. Rick never looked like he didn’t have a plan. Rick never looked like he was speechless. But right now Rick looked like he wasn’t sure what would happen if Negan wasn’t satfiifed with everything we had grabbed. “I’m not sure Y/m, but whatever happens we’ll all be together.” After that I left Ricks and went back home.

I tried my hardest not to think about the dreading feeling that was seeping through my body, into my bones. The horrible feeling that was sinking further and further into my mind. By every passing second, and sound the the worry growing within me.

The gates groaned in horror when Negan showed up. I know that there wasn’t a single way of getting out of seeing Negan today. We would all be forced to be apart of this day. I still had things that I needed to add, hopefully I would be able to put the bag in a box and leave the situation alone. I never wanted to be the center of attention, but it’s hard when the guy that you’re sorta attrated to is just a massive dick. I threw myself off the couch grabbing the black bag. I tied it a million times, I knew that if they really wanted to know what was in the bag that they would tear in to right there.

So, I shoved the black bag into a trashbag. ‘I’d write a note… No don’t write a note’ ‘Writing a note would be like saying that you want him to come back to Alexandria and pick you out of a line up just so he can get you alone in your house’ I wrote the note anyways.

“Be careful with this bag.” That was all I wrote. If Negan wanted to investigate then he’d have to take it up with everyone. There would be no way for him to know that it was from me, or that it was my own handwriting.It would take Negan and his people a minute to surround us, so I walked fast. My heels hitting the ground quick and hard. I dumped the bag next to a set of other boxes. I wasn’t dressed to be out in the morning air. Cool and breezing past everyone.

I was standing next to Rick. His demanor changed immediately when he saw Negan. Our leader fell so quickly. Went from looking straight and forward a sense of noblity to him, to looking down at the ground like a puppy that had been scorned for getting into the garbage. I tried to conceal myself. “You should go back inside.” I heard Rick under his breathe. “What? No, I’m not leaving everyone else out here to deal with this dick.” I said shock ripping through my body.

This day instead of a leather jacket, Negan had on a nice white t-shirt. Lucille hung over his shoulder, and he somehow looked cockier. It was like a waterfall of disgust and cocky attitude that fell down from him and all over Alexandria. I looked over negan and his eyes were on me. I wasn’t wearing the right thing for this.

My sleep wear. A tight fitting shirt that gave nothing to imagination to my breasts, and a pair of loose fitting sweats the last thing that I had from before this whole thing started. Something that I tried to keep clean. Bare feet on the ground. I really wasn’t meant to be here right now, but there was no backing out now.

“Oh look at you two.” Negan said pointing to the two of us with Lucille. I had been instinct wrapped my arm around Ricks arm. I was trying to disappear behind him, but two small people can’t hide behind each other. Can they?

“We got everything..” Rick went to say. Negan was still walking closer and closer to the both of us. “I didn’t ask you talk yet.” Negan said to Rick. I swallowed hard, fear wasn’t the word for what Negan made most of us feel. Negan made most of us feel like out stomachs where going to flip inside out, we all dreaded seeing him, all for our own reasons.

Some just simply disliked him, some loathed him because he had killed a close and loved one. Some people where apprehensive of who Negan was, aware of just how diabolical he truely was.

“What’s got you two so close huh?” He asked. I went to open my mouth but nothing came out. “Oh, I see there’s something going on between the two of you.” He said laughing. Michonne wasn’t far away from the two of us. I looked through my peripheral trying to see what her face looked like. ‘She knew that wasn’t true’ Negan was just a shit starter, the best at the game I was coming to realize.

I took a large breathe, “Negan, can we get on with business.” I said, unhooking my hand from Rick’s arm. Gasps were heard around Alexandria. Rick tried to grab onto me, but I was already walking towards Negan. “You aren’t here to gossip. Are you?” I asked. Negan laughed, that laugh that would echo through my mind for the rest of my life. “Aren’t you the business women of the fuckin’ year.” He said. “Gossip or supplies Negan.” I said. Looking over at the pile of shit we had gathered for this asshat.

Whatever was going to happen might as well get it over sooner then later. “Supplies, doll.” It was short and cut throat. “Good, there’s enough food to last at least a few months. Clothes and not just for you and your gang. But for babies and children too.” I said looking up him. He was just gazing down at me. Staring at me, brown eyes boring into me. I licked my lips and returned to everything that was infront of us. “Tools,and other michalleous shit for you too Negan. Take your shit and get out.” Negan arched him brow looking down at me.

He would never let Rick talk to him like this. Rick would never talk to Negan like this. Negan had broken something in that man when they both left in the trailer that morning after. It was scary to look at either man. One that would do anything for the right reason, and the other that would do anything for his own self gain. “Did old ricky boy send you to do his work.” He asked.

I just stood there. There was nowhere else to go. Standing next to Negan was just where I had to be at this point. With a nod of his head Negan gaggle of boys came over grabbing boxes and crates worth of shit we had grabbed for him.

“Six solid days it took for us to grab this must shit you Negan.” I said, as men passed the two of us. Negan looked down at me. He was trying to work out what to do behind him his eye I would tell. Like he didn’t know what to do to me. We were close no doubt. As close had you had to be to have a conversation at a party. It all happened so fast, his hand came up and slapped me cross the face. The breathe was taken out of me, as I cupped my cheek. Tears wre threatening to pour by the time I looked back up to Negan. “A good reminder of who you’re talkin’ to doll.” He said smirking as he walked away. The last of thing had been grabbed, but I didn’t move from my position. I shook my head, following after him. “You know Negan for whatever type of dick you are. You forget that we.” I said pointing towards my group behind me. “We are the ones that make you have a cushy ass life you live. We are your back bone. Slap me all you want but remember that you don’t live if we don’t.” I said turning back around. My cheek hurt like bitch, but I wasn’t turning around until I walked into my house.

I didn’t give a shit if Negan wasn’t gone. I didn’t care if the gates to Alexandria opened to let Negan out. I didn’t give a god damn shit. I slammed my front door. My cheek was burning, the tears that had threatened to fall had already run down my cheeks. ‘That was stupid idea.’ Was all I could think. It was on repeat in my brain. I went to my bathroom. He had a left a damn bruise. The blood vessels had popped and this wasn’t going away anytime soon. I heard my front door open, but honestly I didn’t care who was at the door.

Boots clicked on the floor. ‘Rick’. “Are you okay?” He asked. His shoulder leaning up against the doorframe. I turned and look at him. My cheek was bright red. There was no ignoring that Negan had slapped me with all of his might. “He’ll be back next week. Said he doesn’t want any more of that.” Rick said. My eyes, and ears were tired of hearing bullshit.

“We have a choice. We always have a fuckin’ choice, Rick.” I was startingto get angeir and angier by the second. The fact that we were in this dumb of an issue was driving me up the wall. Rick just stared at me, as I fumbled around under my sink for some sort of first aid kit. “All of this is bull Rick.” I said sloamming the cabinet doors shut. I sat down on the floor.

I was already drained of all energy for the day. Negan had slapped me infront of everyone to make an example of me. To show that that shit didn’t fly, and honestly I don’t even know why I stood up and starting in the first place. Maybe it was to protect Rick from any more humiliation, maybe I was just tired of not being able to talk to Negan. It could be a thousand and one things.

All I knew was that I didn’t want to see that man ever again. If I didn’t have to I wasn’t going to. But atlast my frivolous thinking that I would never see that man again were smashed. It wasn’t even a week later and Negan was banging on our gates. I had at point forgotten about the sex shop, and all the sex toys that I had placed in that trashbag. I wanted that memory to float away from me. Like dreams do, where you just simply start to forget the details.

The banging didn’t stop til someone let him in. It was just early morning, and I was barely awake. When I heard the muffled shouts coming from outside. I tossed and turned in my makeshift bed on the floor. From the past few days I had yet to sleep nicely. My thoughts seeping into my dreams, Negan was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. When I was awake I wished that I never had to see him again, but when I closed my eyes at night I yearned for the touch of him. Softer this time, but still the touch of him all over me. I shifted in my sleep at one point and heard shouting that was only growing louder and louder by the minute. “I fuckin’ already told you, Rick. I’m going to see her regardless.” It sounded like Negan, but I doubted that he would come back. He had made his rules clear when he left after slapping me. “Negan, please ever you need to talk to Y/n you can do it with me.” I heard Rick plead. The more I listened the more I arose from my sleeplike status.

I yawned and stretched out between the sheets. “For fuck sake Rick. I’m not gonna say it again.” I heard Negan shout. It’s as if they were right in front of my house. Partially walking in through the doors. “If you don’t go get Y/n right now… We are going to have problems.” I heard Negan say. I heard the knock on my door but stayed still. Hoping that it would all go away. “Y/n.” I heard, rick had let himself in but there was only one pair of hard footsteps walking and getting closer to my room.

I shut my eye, hoping that it was all just a bad dream. A nightmare that would eventually go away. I hoped it was but that hope was stripped away from me when I felt Rick touch my shoulder. Gently shaking me awake. I fluttered my eyes open. “Y/n, I’m sorry but…” Rick paused, “I need you to come downstairs” I hissed as I turned to hit my face on the carpet. The slap that Negan had given me was still bruised, and red around the corners.

Negan had marked me his long ago, this was just physical proof that he had some sort of problem with me. I huffed as I got out of the tangle of blankets. My clothes were a little different compared to the clothes I wore the morning Negan came to Alexandria. Sleep shorts, that my ass filled out nicely. A sweatshirt I had found at the start of all of this. Rick started to go down the stairs. “Rick, don’t leave me alone with me,” I said, my voice quieter than normal. For a split second, I saw the face of someone who would do absolutely anything for me or anyone else, then it changed. “I’ll stay outside, you can just holler if you need me.” He said softly before descending the stairs. Disappearing, I got myself up off the floor, pulling my hair out of my face. Before pulling down my shorts, and my sweatshirt.

When I made it down the stairs, I could hear the rhythm of tapping on someones knuckle on my countertop. I turned and expected it to be Rick, but Negan was who I was greeted with. The slap on my face hurt just from looking at him. “Don’t you just take your sweet fuckin’ ti..” His words were cut short. He was staring at me again. I move to be hidden behind my countertop. That would at least cover my exposed thighs. “Your face, doll?” He questioned me. I had no real or true expression on my face. I didn’t feel like playing games. “Why are you here Negan?” I asked ignoring his question. A heavy sigh left Negan and for the first time I saw a different side of him.

There was something dangerous seeing him like this. How vulnerable he was acting right now. “Did I do that?” he asked. As much as I hated playing games with him, he wasn’t the truth right? “Yeah Negan, now what are you doing in my house?” I asked my fingers drumming along the counter top. “I came.. I came to ask about a bag that was dropped into last weeks pick up.” He said and just like the dick of what Negan was back. “Hm. I don’t know Negan there was a ton of fuckin’ shit there.” I barked back. The stinging in my face was coming back and faster the longer I stared at his devilosly handsome face. He looked more and more tired each time I saw him. Was he just as tired living in this world as I was?

‘God, Y/n. You just don’t know when to stop talkin. The damn bag you dropped off before you thought nobody was lookin’ nobody was watchin’.” Negan said. “All I fuckin’ want is for you say what I already know.” Negan said. It was smug coming from him, but a demand regardless. A hot demanding demand. “What you wanna know where I got all that shit so you can get more for your stupid wives. I bet you just loved that I grabbed all that shit huh?” I said, was I spitting venom. Calling him out for having other women in his life.

I was driving myself crazy with my idolization over him. He was just a older hot gentleman that was fuckin’ crazy. I breathed heavy. Rubbing my sweaty palms together. Trying to calm down with Negan in my presence was harder then ever. He was all around me. His collonge was wrapping itself around my thoughts. My straight thoughts were running for a breath of fresh of air.

“So, you do admit it. You walked into a sex shop grabbed whatever your little heart wanted.” Negan said, I was so in my head I didn’t noticed the shift in the room. I didn’t notice just how close Negan had managed to get to me. Bu when I felt his body behind mine I felt like was going to hell and heaven all at the same time. I tried to get away from his touch, “You aren’t going anywhere doll.” He said his arm coming to trap me between the countertop and his large and stiff body.

I could feel the growing erection within his pants. Rough jean fabric scratching at my exposed skin. “Negan.” I tired to say, but everything felt like I was floating. A true reality of what dreams felt like. Floating with Negan wrapped all over me. “Did you keep any toys for yourself?” Negan asked as he rutted himself closer and closer to me. I was squashed between the two hard surfaces. “I… I uh.. Yeah.. I kept a few things for myself.” I said, the truth pouring out of my lips without any needed force.

He turned me in his grasp. My back hitting the countertop edge. Groaning in pain, I was finally so close to him that I could see everything that negan had to give up. Dark brown eyes, flicks of gray that was peppering his bread. Sorrow an dpain behind his large eyes, tired lines that covered his handsome face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Negan said as his fingers grazed softly over the mark on my face. I shut my eyes tightly under the intense gaze. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I said trying to leave the conversation alone. His pointer finger shifted to my chin forcing me to look back him. Our eyes connected and we just looked at each for a moment. “Y/n, doll it does matter. It’s was simply for the guys behind me and your people. A show of.”Negan said, “power” We said together, “I know that Negan, but what we are doing now?” I questioned him.

‘Come on sweetheart, you know what we are doing. I’ve been thinking about you for the past few days and waking up this morning to find dildos, vibrators, and all other sort things in a bag from my new favorite stop… You’ve got me growing hard in my jeans princess.” Negan said dipping his head into my neck.

From there the words no longer mattered, only the physical motion between the two of us. My sweatshirt came flying off, landing on the hardwood floor. Negans mouth was on my skin so fast that I was able to feel his heartbeat against my skin. Wet kisses, hard bites, and scattered hickies littered my skin before Negan was satisfied. My hand gripped and pulled in Negan’s hair. Bucking when Negan would suck harder and then lick the wound like a kitten.

Everything about him right now was hot, a devil in wolfs clothing was what Negan was and sadly right now it didn’t matter at all. My breasts were in his path, one nipple got teased, a mouth sucking and tugging at the bud. Licking, and blowing all while he was groping and massaging the other, teasing all at the same time. I groaned and moaned in response, pulling harder on his hair. “Fuck, Negan. You’ve got to stop or I’mma cum right here and now..” I groaned out. Negan pulled away, his eyes looking up at me. “Oh no doll. We don’t want that.” Negan teased me.

“Negan please. I just… I haven’t in such a long time.” I said. Negan picked me up and throw me onto the cold countertop. My ass hitting the countertop slapped agasint the walls. I giggled at sound, but Negan was intent on getting my shorts off. I played a little, wiggling my legs as the fabric fell off of them. He stared me, a funny look on his face.

Negan was still wearing clothes. I pawed at the fabric. “Please, you can’t be wearing all those clothes.” I whined. He rolled his eyes, a huff. “Please.” I begged him. “Fine, I’ll take off my shirt, I just know you want to see my body.” He said, shucking off his jacket and shirt. Toned frame, that was cut, some slices from after all the zombies. My fingers grazzed over little slices and divots in his skin. His rough hand came to stop mine. “Come on doll we’ve got more important things to do.” He said winking at me before he was right between my thighs.

His fingers teased at my pussy. A thin layer of wetness covering them as he teased at my clit. Rubbing soft and czlculated circles around. I moaned out in pleasure as he continued his ministrations. Like he was trying out a new toy. And with every flick on his fingers to every movement of his wole hand he got everything right. Negan had me cumming right there on my counter top in no time. My back hit the cold counter top, and the thoughts of the some random daily looking throug this lot before the whole world went to shit bleeped through my mind. I hoped for something the moment as I came down from my high. I hope for a good and healthy family for on ethat wasn’t going to have to deal with horrible world that it was now, but I also hoped and wished for more moment like this. Moment where all I gave a shit about was amyself and my pleasure. I didn’t want to have to think anymore. I wanted to let go and that was what Negan was doing for me. Regardless of how fucked up it was that he had not just but a few weeks ago killed memebers of our group, he had fingers like a god. I could only imagine just how good his cock must be.

I floated in my world before a nudge from negan brought me back to reality. The reality of cold marble hitting my back. The reality that I still desperately wanted him to sleeve his cock into me. I wanted to be teased but that could be for later on. I just wanted to be fucked and for right now my fasination with Negan was enough to get me through.

“Come back to reality doll.” I heard Negan’s voice lull. “Do you still want this cock?” He questioned me. Negan was negan regardless of what he was doing. Still the cocky shit that thought he knew everything and he got everything he wanted. “Yeh, come on Negan don’t tease me just fuck me.” I said as I heard the sound of his zipper, then the shuffle of his jeans. Then finally the fall of his jeans. Bare and bare we stared at each other. His cock was bigger then I imaigned. Pinker then I thought, but regardless I wanted it in me and I wanted it now.

I wanted to feel the girth of his cock push my pussy wider and wider until I was crying with tears. I wanted to feel his balls slap against my ass, when Negan wasn’t able to control his desire anymore. I wanted anything that he could give to me. I felt the head of his cock nudge at my swollen clit. “Oh, Fuck… Neg.. Just.. just put it in already.” I said trying to latch my legs around his waist to pull him and his cock in. I was stopped, A stern expression passing Negans face. “You went to a sex shop and forgot the most important thing.” He said, a raised brow. I was so foggy brained that I wasn;t able to truly answer or think of an answer for Negan.

All in one quick solid motion. I received an answer. “Condoms, you fuckin’ forgot condoms doll.” He said grunting in, as his cock came to it hilt. His balls sittign perfectly on my ass, and he hovered over me. Our breathes were fast and shallow. Barely trying to catch each other. I hadn’t felt this full in such a long time, was it wrong that the man that was currently fucking my life up was the man that was currently making me come undone.

He fucked me hard agasint the marble countertop. Whatever else was going on around us it just didn’t matter. I didn’t care if Rick was sitting outside, listening to me moan out in pleasure. I didn’t care if the whole town heard me moan out Negan’s name in pleasure. I could feel his cock twitch within my pussy. “Fuck Negan, you gonna cum?” I half asked him, looking up at him. He was biting his lip, his fingers coming up from my hips to surround my throat.

“Just be quiet and let me use you. Be a good girl and take my cock huh?” He grunted, as he continued to fuck me. My body ached as he continued to thrust into my pussy. Hot and deep, the sound of skin slappingtogether could be heard as it echoed off the kitchens walls. I was so in my head that I didn’t hear Negan’s grunts became closer and heavier. He was trying to not cum befroe me.

‘What a gentlemen. We ca. Cum together.” I suggested through breaths, and gasps as his fingers came to play at my clit. “Look at you, for the first time cooking up a good ole idea.” He said, his fingers teasing at my clit, my pussy clenched around his cock forcing his thurst to be rougher and harder.

My world went black as I hit my high. Eyes rolled back as I felt his seed hit the back of my womb. Negan wasn’t screaming my name or devoting his love to me. A hard squeeze around my throat was the last thing I felt before Negan was pulling his cock from my pussy.

He was throwing his clothes back, the cold marble countertop was a wonderful feeling. “You’re just going to leave me on the countertop naked and defendless.” I said, the coolness wrapping around my body like a cool blanket.

“Oh now you want to be treated like a princess, huh?” Negan said cockly. “I don’t know sir, you were pretty okay with slapping me across the face a few days ago.” I said turning on the countertop. Using my arm as a support. I looked at the man that was dressing in front of me. “You aren’t going to let that go are you?” He said rolling his eyes as he slipped back on his leather jacket.

“Hmm.” I hummed, “I’ll just keep that dangled over your head, cause I know for sure that I wanna fuck you again.” I said, winking at him. “Yeah I figured a slut like you would dangle my ungentlemenly actions over my head, You just wanna make sure I keep fuckin’ you.” Negan said. A short laugh leaving him before he came over and kissed me hard. His tongue nearly choking me as he fucked my mouth with his tongue. When he pulled away, he had a light layer of blush covering his cheeks and a growing erection. My body was ready for another round, but I knew that the longer we stayed here the longer I would fall for this horribly scary gentle man.

“Don’t you go falling in love with me now doll?” Negan said, “You better get dressed too because when I walk out those doors I’m sending dear old Rick in.” Negan said. I jumped from my position on the countertop and grabbed my scattered clothes, I had found almost everything, besides my panties so I just slipped on my shorts and sweatshirt before I heard Rick come inside, with that, I saw Negans ass walk away and my panties shoved in his back pocket.

Completed on: 01/19/23

Posted on: 01/20/23

The Wanderers- @yourfavdummy

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