#plot bunny bite my finger

[ro-is-struggling]

The Chase || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon: "reader constantly calling geralt the white wolf or just wolf during sexy time and him breeding his pups in her bcs of it???"

Summary: Geralt always tried to keep the wolf inside him caged in order to control his animalistic impulses, but with you that didn't seem to be required at all. 

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI! Porn without plot, public sex (technically since they’re in the woods), rough sex, penetrative sex, fear play? (not really, but Geralt does chase the reader through the woods so maybe? adding it just in case!), scent play, size kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, biting (like there’s so much it’s a warning in this fic), fingering, possessiveness, a little fluff at the end, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 3300

Notes: This is definitely NOT inspired on THAT scene from beauty and the beast that has been going around twitter all week, nope, not at all

Geralt was used to being called 'wolf' or 'white wolf'. It was a nickname he'd had for most of his life and was constantly used by Vesemir and the other witchers. He never thought much about it, just like his own name, he had it so internalized that he automatically responded when someone called him by those nicknames.

That changed, however, when you came into his life. There was something in the way you pronounced those words that awakened a primal feeling in him. It was in the way you looked at him, eyes defiant and playful, waiting to spark a reaction from him. It was in the way your lips moved, always ending in a mischievous smile, and in the sound of your voice, sweet and seductive, inducing him to madness, pushing him to his limit. 

Everything about you awakened in him an urge to possess you, to mark you as his so that everyone who saw you would know you belonged to him. He had to make an effort to stop his needy hands to caress your skin, and contain the desperation of his lips to kiss your neck and mark it with his teeth. He didn't care if there were people around him, they all ceased to exist when you called him wolf. 

It didn't help his situation that you always played dumb, pretending not to understand the power you had over him. But Geralt knew it was all an act. He knew that you were well aware of the effect that the utterance of that nickname had on him. And you used it as a weapon, a way to get a response from him when you wanted to play. And today you were in a very playful mood.

"What is it? Is the wolf scared of losing?" you teased him, trying to persuade him to take the bet. It was a simple race through the woods, just get from point A to point B as fast as possible to win. Only you had no intention of winning. All you were looking for was the thrill of the chase.

Geralt gave you an unamused look, taking a deep breath to calm the revolt that your use of that nickname had awakened in him. But then, he sensed your perfume in the air, mixed with the intoxicating scent of your arousal. His look completely transformed, frown relaxing into a firm, intimidating expression. The game was on.

"Oh you don't want to play that game, bunny." He warned you, giving you one last chance to change your mind. Once the race started, he wasn't sure he would be able to stop. He could already feel his insides vibrating with anticipation, the chained wolf fighting to break free. He had been locked up for too long, his needs ignored and repressed, so when he let go there would be no turning back. He was hungry and you were offering yourself to him without hesitation. How could he refuse?

You approached him, taking the sword he was sharpening out of his hand and bending down so you could look him in the eye. Your movements were slow, sensual, captivating your lover's gaze. Geralt's eyes got lost in your cleavage for a moment, admiring the exposed skin of your neck and the valley of your breasts as he suddenly began to salivate with need. His pupils widened, staring at you with yellow eyes turned almost completely black with desire. He could barely contain himself and that only increased your arousal.

"I'm not afraid of you." you said, and Geralt held back the urge to tell you that you should be. "Are you, wolf?"

He stood up and suddenly his imposing figure towered over yours, forcing you to tilt your head up so you could look at him. He was so much bigger than you, so much more agile, that it was ridiculous to even imagine you could beat him in a race. But, again, that's not what the game was about.

Geralt leaned in towards you, his lips brushing your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. "When you lose and you're on the ground begging for mercy, I just want you to remember that you asked for this." he whispered, defiantly, sending a shiver down your spine.

He looked at you and you knew it was time to run. He gave you a head start, knowing he could catch you without even trying —not only because he was faster than you, but also because you had no real intention of winning that bet. He watched you run through the trees, admiring the way your hair moved in the wind. Only when you disappeared over the horizon did he start to move. He walked at a slow pace at first, sharpening his hearing to follow the sound of your footsteps. But when he caught the scent of your arousal, he couldn't help but pick up his pace. It was like a drug to him, an intoxicating scent that messed with the hormones of the big, bad wolf he had set free.

Geralt let the scent of your floral perfume mixed with the sweet nectar hidden between your legs guide him towards you, an invisible force drawing him closer and closer to his prey. When he reached you, he found you hiding behind a tree, taking advantage of the moment to catch your breath. He heard you gasp as soon as you sensed his presence, holding your breath to avoid making your position known. Geralt smiled to himself, finding your small efforts to remain hidden adorable.

"You can't hide from me, bunny." He spoke, approaching you slowly. "I can hear the sound of your quickened breathing from miles away... smell the scent of your arousal... you want this, so why don't you come out and get this over with."

Geralt was offering you a truce, a chance for things not to escalate any further than they already had. Any sane person in your place would have taken it, it was the reasonable thing to do after taunting the wolf like that. But you were not just anyone. You wanted to face the consequences of your actions. You wanted to face the white wolf that Geralt tried so hard to keep in line. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted with you, that was the point of the game in the first place.

You came out of hiding with your hands up in a feigned sign of surrender. Geralt walked a few steps towards you, eyeing you with suspicion. You held his gaze, trying to hide your true intentions. But in the end the smile on your lips betrayed you, letting him know that you didn't plan to give up easily before you had a chance to run.

You barely made it a couple of steps before you felt the warmth of his body against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you to keep you from escaping. You squirmed in his grip, trying to free your arms from his strong hold, but it was pointless. Geralt was much bigger and stronger than you, so you weren't going anywhere if he didn't want you to. He pressed you against him, pinning your back to his chest as his hands intertwined over your stomach, effectively imprisoning you against his body. You felt his nose against your neck, sniffing your scent with animalistic desperation. It made you tremble, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your heart pounded with anticipation. You pressed the curve of your ass against the bulge growing in his pants in response and you felt Geralt’s chest vibrate with a repressed moan.

"I got you." he growled against your skin before sinking his teeth into the sensitive area of your neck. "You're mine, bunny. Mine."

"I'm yours," you moaned, relaxing into his arms, tilting your head more so he could have better access to your neck. You wanted him to mark you. You wanted him to claim you as his own. "Please, take me." you begged. It was an airy whisper, but Geralt heard it with perfect clarity. And your consent was all he needed.

In a matter of seconds, your back was pressed against the grass as Geralt hovered over you. His hands were all over your body, lifting your skirt and unbuttoning the ties of your top to expose your breasts. His lips kissed every inch of exposed skin, but there was nothing romantic or sensual about it. It was rough, desperate, Geralt sucked your skin with the intention of leaving marks, sinking his teeth into your flesh as he growled that you belonged to him. It was too much and yet not enough. The pleasure coursing through your body was almost unbearable, but you needed more, you needed to feel all of him.

"You knew exactly what you were doing... calling me that name, making me chase you around." Geralt inserted a finger inside you without warning, earning a moan from you. You were so aroused, so desperate for his touch, that he had no trouble at all pushing deep into your core, moving his digit with ease and reaching up to brush against that sensitive part inside you that turned you into a moaning mess. "This is what you wanted, didn't you bunny? You wanted your big, bad wolf to chase you around and pin you down right in the middle of the woods, huh?"

"Y-yes, f-fuck." you managed to blurt out between moans and quickened breaths. Geralt inserted a second finger inside you and the air got stuck in your throat as the pleasure overwhelmed you. He increased the pace of his movements, showing you no mercy as his fingers moved in and out of you in desperate, almost aggressive movements. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, ready to snap at any moment.

"You awakened the wolf on purpose. This is exactly what you wanted, didn't you?" he growled in your ear, playfully biting your ear lobe. You could only reply with an incoherent moan, closing your eyes to focus on the pleasure coursing through your body. But that wasn't enough for him, Geralt wanted to hear you say it. "Answer me!" he demanded and you were forced to open your eyes just by the authority in his voice.

"Yes! I-I wanted this, I-I wanted the wolf to fuck me. Please..." Geralt smiled showing his teeth and you couldn't help but think how much he resembled a real wolf when he looked at you like that. His lips were slightly swollen and covered with saliva after working on marking your skin, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He was looking at you like a wolf looked at its prey, desperate to jump at you and devour his meal.

"Beg for it." He said through gritted teeth. He removed his fingers from inside you, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. It took your pleasure-clouded mind a few seconds to process his words, too focused on the high you'd lost to let out anything more than whimpers of frustration. But that was exactly what Geralt wanted. He wanted to see you completely desperate, surrendered under his body, begging for his touch.

"Please, wolf, I need you... I need to feel you inside me, please." You begged him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He took his fingers covered with your sweet nectar into his mouth, sucking them clean as he moaned around them. It was the hottest image you had ever seen. He was so focused on the taste of your arousal touching his tongue that for a moment you feared he might not be able to hear your pleas for attention.

“I’m yours to take… please, wolf. I need you.”

The pathetic desperation in your voice was enough for Geralt. He wasted no time, freeing his cock from its confinement and thrusting it into you in one swift movement that left you breathless. He was big and even though your arousal was seeping down your thighs, it always took you a moment to get used to the way he stretched you. He showed you some mercy, giving you a few seconds to adjust while he enjoyed the way your walls closed around his cock. Nothing compared to the warm feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, pulling him inside you, inviting him to stay. It was the closest he had ever been to heaven, if there was such a thing.

Geralt let out a grunt as you began to move your hips against him, urging him to move. He placed his hands on either side of your head, effectively imprisoning you under his large, imposing figure. Then he gave you a sloppy, wet kiss, biting your lower lip before moving closer to your ear. "Just remember you asked for this." He whispered, sealing your fate.

The rhythm he set was fast and rough, his hips moving against yours desperately. The sheer force of his thrusts was such that you had to cling to his body to keep from sliding upward each time he entered you. It hurt a little, but in the most delicious way. He hit that special place inside you with every thrust of his hips, turning you into an incoherent moaning mess that could do nothing but dig your nails into his back in a desperate attempt to keep you grounded. Pure pleasure coursed through your veins as you felt Geralt pressing deep inside you, filling you and claiming you as his. Your sweat covered skin was on fire, only finding relief when the witcher's cold medallion that dangled over your face made contact with your body.

"Scream! I want to hear you, bunny. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Geralt demanded and your body instantly obeyed, as if he was the true owner of your mind. "That's it, don't hold back. No one is going to find us here, you can scream all you want. It's just me and you."

The forest filled with your moans and Geralt's animalistic grunts. He couldn't contain himself, seeing you underneath him with your tangled hair full of dry leaves and your watery eyes full of pleasure was too much for him. He couldn't stop the fast rhythm of his hips even if he wanted to. The wolf inside him wanted to ruin you completely, to mark you as his and make sure you were never satisfied with any other man but him. You belonged to him, now and forever. 

"You wanted this, you craved it... my little bunny, desperate to get fucked like a bitch in heat." He growled against the skin of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive area below your ear.

"Yes! F-fuck, please... I'm so close." You begged him, feeling the familiar tingle spreading in your stomach as your toes curled. His fingers traveled to the little bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs, stroking it with rapid circular motions that increased your level of desperation. You were so close to your relief it was almost painful, but you wanted to wait, to hold back your pleasure so you could explode alongside Geralt.

"You want me to fill you up, mark you as mine, huh? Breed you with my pups so everyone knows you're mine?" It was an empty promise and you both knew it. Geralt was sterile and no matter how much he wanted to, he could not father a child. But that didn't make his words any less arousing. The idea of being his and having his child growing in your belly to prove it was so enticing that you couldn't help but entwine your legs around his waist as a way to make sure he didn't slip out from inside you.

"Yes, please! I'm yours, I always will be and I want everyone to know!"

"That's right, you are. And I'm yours." Geralt grunted, leaning his forehead against yours to look you in the eye as he quickened his movements, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased the sweet relief. "Can you feel how deep inside you I am?" He took your hand and pressed it against your lower belly, where you could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. "I'm going to shoot my seed so deep into you, you'll carry it inside you until your belly starts to swell up with my pups inside it. Is that what you want?"

"Yes! Please, give it to me, wolf! I need to feel you, please." You begged with your last breath, almost bursting into tears from the intensity of the pleasure you felt.

Two more thrusts were all it took for Geralt to push you over the edge. You came with a cry of his name, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as your warm walls tightened around his cock, forcing him to stay inside you. That was enough to trigger his own relief, his cock twitching inside you as he shot his load deep inside your cunt, painting your walls with pearly white ropes of cum. And yet, he continued to thrust inside you, making your body shake from the overstimulation. He wanted to make sure his seed stayed inside you. He wanted to be able to smell the mix of his relief and yours on you for the rest of the day.

When he finally pulled away you groaned, feeling empty. Geralt let out an airy chuckle as he dropped down next to you, struggling to catch his breath. He pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and resting your head on his chest. Even after all that, he still needed to hold you close, to feel the warmth of your body against his. 

You stayed like that until your breathing returned to normal, reveling in each other's closeness. You were so relaxed in his arms that you might well have fallen asleep if not for Geralt breaking the peaceful silence by clearing his throat.

"We should head back." he murmured, his fingers tracing imaginary lines on the exposed skin of your arm.

"I would if I could move." You joked as you began to feel the pain in your tired muscles. You didn't regret anything, though.

"I'm sorry."

You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, giving him a smile to ease the guilt he might be feeling for hurting you. "Don't be, you did exactly what I wanted you to do." You reached up to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated, cupping your cheek with his free hand so he could deepen the kiss.

However, he pulled away faster than you expected. You whined again, but he ignored you, getting up from the floor and shaking the dirt off his clothes. "It's getting late, we need to go." He said and you huffed. You weren't ready to move yet.

"Geraaalt" you complained, pouting. He looked down at you, ready to scold you, but was distracted by the sight of his artwork in all its glory. Your sweat-covered skin glowed under the afternoon light, highlighting your beauty. Your body was covered in his teeth marks and a trail of reddened hickeys trailed from your neck to your breasts and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. You carried his scent on your body, his seed inside you and his teeth marks on your skin. That alone was enough to awaken the wolf inside him once again, though he held back.

"You look beautiful." He said, kneeling beside you to help you knot the ties in the front of your dress, hiding your breasts and the marks he had made behind the fabric.

The softness in Geralt's eyes was such that you felt the need to hide your face, feeling embarrassed and somehow more exposed than when you were having sex. However, he didn't give you time to react as he quickly pulled you into his arms and made his way back to the hut. You relaxed in his arms, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and snuggling against his shoulder. 

"I love you." you said in an almost inaudible whisper. It was as if you were speaking more to yourself than for Geralt to hear you. As if the words had escaped your lips as you were lost in thought.

But Geralt's hearing was exceptionally good. And he couldn't help but smile to himself as he heard those words.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #the witcher smut #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher netflix

[pinguwrites]

In The Light of the Moon | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> dark!thomas shelby x innocent!reader

Summary -> Having enough of being mistreated by your family, you decide to runaway to the small town of Birmingham. There, you meet the feared gangster, Thomas Shelby, whose intentions with you are less than pure.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), kinda dark tommy, innocent!reader, mentions of abuse, p in v, anal, oral (both sides), fingering, allusion to stalking, bunny pet name (briefly, as a joke), lingerie, spanking, very light breeding, bleeding, pain, first time for reader

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Tommy asked, taking a quick drag of his cigarette, the white smoke curling up in the cold, bitter air.

You hugged your body with your arms and averted your eyes. “Sir, I have to go home. It’s almost night.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, amused. “Home? The streets?”

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You were sleeping on the streets, ever since you ran away from your abusive family in London. You had nothing with you but a bag of sandwiches you were carefully portioning, some cash, and the things you were wearing — a light skirt with intricate pink patterns and boots.

“Are you here just to make fun of me?” you said, a little annoyed.

He stepped forward and brushed his fingers against your cheek. You shuddered at the feeling, involuntary leaning into his warm touch, but then you realized what you were doing and backed away.

“Such a pretty girl,” he complimented. When you pulled away, he stopped his caressing, but he didn’t bother to create space between you two. No, he seemed to like the way things were. “Where’s your family?”

“You don’t need to know,” you huffed. You were trying to sound intimidating, but your tone betrayed your emotions. You were vulnerable, without a clue of what to do.

He laughed. “You have some bite, sweetheart. Tell me, what’s your name? I told you mine.”

You hesitated.

“What’s your name?” he repeated, more forceful. “Or do you just want me to call you girl? Perhaps bunny?” He chuckled. “You’re cute like one. Ought to get you some fluffy ears and tail, maybe a collar . . .”

“I’m not a bunny!”

This man was embarrassing you. Why’d he have to say things like that? The idea of you wearing an outfit like that, probably provocative based on the manner he was suggesting, made you feel small and upset. How could he say such things so freely?

“Then what’s your name?”

You grumbled but told him anyway.

“Good girl.”

You ignored the way his words made your body tingle and warm up in all the wrong places.

“Now, did you run away?”

“Why are you so curious?” you questioned, not wanting to tell him. What if he got in contact with your family and found out about the reward they were offering for your return?

“Because you’re a strange girl who shouldn’t be here, on my fuckin’ property, and I like to know who goes on my property and why.”

“Are you a gangster, Mr. Shelby?”

You were starting to think this man wasn’t just some wealthy mayor, but rather a criminal, the kind you were always warned about. He was far too crass to be of a higher class, but he certainly had power, or he wouldn’t be acting this way.

Tommy took another puff of his cigarette. “Ah, so you know a thing or two. Thought you’d be stupid.”

“I’m not—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to engage in such useless conversation. “We’re done here. Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.”

He grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “You think I’m letting you go out there, alone? With no family to keep you safe, no man to protect you? No. You’re coming home with me. I’ll give food, shelter, nice clothes,” he tugged at your dirty dress, “a place to sleep. How does that sound?”

“I don’t even know you!” you sputtered out. “I can’t go to a stranger’s house and live with them.”

His eyes darkened. “And what is the alternative? Lay on concrete? Starve to death? Wait for some bastard to come along and hurt you the way sick men like to hurt little girls?”

You were at a loss. You had nothing to say, no argument to defend yourself. Staying at Tommy’s place sounded comfortable, but you couldn’t.

“I—I can’t.”

Tommy sighed and pulled you closer to him. “I’m just telling ya’, you wouldn’t be a burden on me. I won’t harm you, and I won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“You’re touching me right now!”

"There's a difference," he growled, pushing you up against him, his face inches from yours. "I'm protecting you. Do you think I’d hurt you?”

You whimpered, scared. “N-no. I—I don’t know!” you stuttered. “I barely know you, Mr. Shelby.”

You turned your head so you didn’t have to be so close to him, or look him directly in the eyes.

“You’re staying with me,” he said in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“. . . Yes, sir,” you breathed out, flustered at the close proximity.

===

Tommy led you back to his apartment. He got you some food and water, a cozy room to sleep in, and a hot bath. He was so generous with everything, and though you were cautious of him at first, you couldn’t help but let your fantasies run wild.

Before you could start daydreaming, Tommy entered the washroom, holding something behind his back.

You shrieked. You had just gotten out of the water and were drying yourself off with the towel, but it was too small to cover your entire body. You squeezed your legs together and covered your chest.

“You can’t be in here!”

Tommy laughed and ignored your words. “Why not? It’s my place.” But he looked away. “You were taking a while, that’s why I came in. I was worried.”

“I’m fine, you can leave now.”

“And what will you wear?”

You didn’t think of that. He hadn’t given you any clothes yet.

He showed you what he was holding, but it didn’t even look like proper clothing, rather undergarments and a skimpy top. You stared at it for a moment, before realizing he was expecting you to take it.

“I can’t wear that,” you protested.

He sighed. “‘I can’t do this’, ‘I can’t do that’, when are you going to learn to do as I tell you? I want to see you wear this, so wear it.”

You didn’t complain after that, though you did hesitate. You made him turn around while you changed, trying to fit the skimpy clothing on your body.

The bra was white and comfortable, but it would easily slip down if someone wanted it to. It accentuated the curve of your tits. It was the sexiest thing you’d ever worn, and you felt horrified at the thought of Tommy seeing you in this thing. It made you feel like a . . . like a prostitute.

The panty barely covered your ass. It was all hanging out for show. What is the point of such outfits? It’s useless! you thought.

“You can turn around now, sir. Just, please don’t stare.”

He did stare, he stared at every part of you like a hungry beast, ready to tear his prey apart. You felt wanted under his gaze, but the whole situation was making you feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to behaving like this, you weren’t used to being around men like Tommy. It was all so new and daunting.

“Walk towards me,” he ordered.

You did so, hugging your body with your arms — a bad habit. Your tits were bouncing slightly with every step, but you made sure it wasn't too obvious. You couldn't help but wonder what your family would think if they saw you like this.

How have you gone from being a rich girl to living on the streets to the arms of a handsome gangster?

“Oh, that’s a nice view, sweetheart.” He licked his lips. “Turn around now.”

You did that as well.

“You see that scrubber on the floor?”

You looked, spotting the thing you used to wash yourself. It must have fallen at some point.

“Yeah, do you want me to pick it up?”

“That’s right.”

You knew your bum would be clear to him if you did, but it was your fault it was on the floor, and you felt bad about it. It was your obligation to pick it up, right? You didn't want to be a poor guest.

"Don't look."

You bent over and picked it up. Mr. Shelby let out a heavy sigh and you immediately felt something poking your behind. He was pressing his body up against you! You tried to get up, but he pushed you back down, holding your waist and shoulder so you didn’t fall over.

“What are you doing?!” You couldn't move with the way he was holding you. It was such a compromising situation, what was he trying to pull?

“You’re so easy,” he groaned. “You don’t question why I want you to wear those things? Or maybe you do know . . . dirty girl.”

He picked and placed you over his shoulders, carrying you through the apartment hallways. He led you over to his room, placing you down on his bed despite you smacking your hands against his back.

“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”

“Only if you didn’t want it. But you want this, don’t you?”

“No!” You tried to get off his bed but he pushed you back down with a thud. “. . . Maybe. I don’t know! I’ve never done this before."

You didn't even know what exactly he wanted to do with you. You were vaguely aware of promiscuous activities ungentlemanly men got up to at night, and that it could sometimes result in babies, but you were uneducated on the details.

His gaze softened. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I know you’re a virgin. I’ll be gentle at first, okay?” He gave you a rough kiss, his tongue flicking against your bottom lip.

"Mmph!"

You tried to push him off you but he wouldn't have any of it. He pinned your arms above your head and continued to ravish you, nipping at your neck with his teeth, running his hands all over your body — your arms, your stomach, your thighs, all the way down to your feet.

His lips finally left yours, but before you could say anything, they were back on.

You couldn't deny, it felt good. This was the best you'd ever felt your entire life, even more so than that one time your desires got the best of you and you tried touching yourself, though that was probably because that time resulted in a swift confession and punishment.

Tommy started grinding his hips between your legs, making you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, still rolling his body. "See? You're enjoying it." He let go of your hands, to which you immediately gripped the back of his shirt. “I know you want this,” he continued. “Say you want this.”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to respond. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

He stopped and you whined.

“Say you want this,” he said, his nose brushing up against yours. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t . . .”

“But you should,” he convinced. “I won’t dump you after I’m done. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live here, with me, okay? You’ll be my sweetheart, my pet.”

He leaned down to kiss you again, but you placed your hands against his chest.

“I don’t know how to have—how to,” you struggled to find the words.

“How to what? Fuck?” He laughed. “I’ll teach ya’. What do you know?”

It felt weird saying it out loud, but you did. “A man and a woman need to be married,” — Tommy huffed at that — “and a man is supposed to take his . . . well, I’m not sure, but he’s supposed to take a part of him and put it inside a woman’s privates.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, but he didn’t look upset at your lack of knowledge. “I’ll show you, but first I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you?”

You nodded your head slowly in anticipation, not ready for how vulgar it was going to be.

“I’m going to split you open on my cock and fuck you till you go dumb,” he said, grabbing his crotch. “This thing here, it’s called a cock, and I’ve got the best one you’ll ever see.” He pulled it out, a hard length, too long and thick to possibly fit in you. It was throbbing, with some type of liquid leaking out the top. “Look at it. This is what I’m going to ram inside your holes — all three of them.”

Your breathing hitched and you gasped. “All of them? I don’t understand—”

He interrupted you by forcing two of his fingers down your throat, making you gag and sputter, tears welling up in your eyes. “My cock will go inside your mouth first. It’ll make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to suck properly, how to lick, how to swallow.”

He removed his now wet fingers, letting you relax for a brief moment, but then he flipped you over onto your stomach and pulled your panties down, giving a nice, hard slap to your ass.

You yelped.

He spread your cheeks apart and pushed his finger in your hole, just a little bit, to give you the idea. You squirmed. It didn’t hurt that much, but you were sure if he went further in it would.

“Then here, sweetheart. We’ll spend a lot of time here. It’s always been my favorite.”

You thought about how his cock was supposed to fit in there. His fingers already felt too big. 

“It won’t fit—”

“—It will. I’ll shove it in until it does.” 

His hand snaked under your stomach and down between your legs. “And here.” He brushed his fingers against your folds and over your entrance. “Your pussy. I’ll fuck it, and you’ll take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

You felt your heart beat against your chest like it was going to jump out. In excitement or fear, you did not know.

“Will it hurt?”

“Yes, and it may even bleed, but only for a while. I promise I’ll make it feel good. Now, flip over and spread your legs.”

You rested on your back and widened your legs, wondering what he was going to do when he placed a pillow under your hips, moved your panty to the side, and kissed your pussy with fervor.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, the sensation feeling warm and weird.

“I need to get you ready, and I want to show you what an orgasm feels like.”

“An orgasm?”

“You’ll see.”

He flicked his tongue over your bud, sucking on it, holding your hips in place. It felt like heaven, enough to make you forget your guilt and focus on the way he was eating you out. 

“Oh,” you moaned softly, looking down at Tommy. He was looking up at you, observing your reactions, trying to see if this made you feel good or that. He was doing it with such precision, too. It felt sloppy and messy, the sounds of his kisses a loud pucker, but it couldn’t have been unthoughtful, because it felt so good.

He kept doing it. Your body was tingling as he started to get more passionate, finally pushing his tongue inside your pussy.

“Huh,” you let out.

“I’m going to put my fingers inside now,” he told you. “Just relax.” He slid his hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “Relax.”

You loosened your tense muscles and rested your head on the pillow. You shut your eyes, trying to let your thoughts go blank, but the sudden intrusion of his finger was too painful for you to ignore.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

“I’ll go slower.”

He pushed in a little further. He wasn’t going slower, or at least, it didn’t feel like he was.

“How much more needs to go in?”

“About three more quarters of what’s already there,” he guessed. “But I’ll need to put two more fingers in after that, and then my cock.”

You looked down at his cock. It was still open, hanging firm out of his trousers. Huge and thick and fat. You were sure he was lying when he said it would fit. You imagined him trying to push it in, but failing, because how could that possibly make its way inside you?

“I wish it didn’t hurt, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain.”

Now his finger was halfway through. It was like someone had placed an object where it was not meant to be. How could this be natural if it was so painful?

“Just a little bit more.” He continued running his other hand up and down your thigh. “You’re taking it so well.”

He pushed the rest of it in, letting it stay for a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed. He brushed your hair out of your face, curling his finger inside. “You’re alright, you’ll be alright.”

He pulled his finger out. There was a bit of blood on it, mixing with your clear juices. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking away. It was disgusting.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s normal. I won’t have you feeling ashamed of yourself.”

He added another and did the same thing. Eventually, he was pushing in and out at a slow, steady pace. It was horribly painful, but it was starting to feel a little good, especially with the way he started licking your pussy again.

“One more. Just one more.”

You cried out. “Too much!”

He didn’t respond.

Your walls were being stretched, and you felt like you were a stretchy piece of fabric about to get ripped apart. But the pleasure of his tongue managed to counter it a little.

You felt a strange sensation in your belly, coupled with pain.

“I—I,” you tried to say.

“I know. Come for me, sweetheart. Come on my fingers.”

You came — whatever that meant. You felt like you were at some peak, a little dizzy in the head, with some substance leaking out of your body.

You panicked, worried it was something else, but to your shock, it was white, and Tommy was lapping it up.

“W-what’s that?”

“Your cum. It’s what happens when you orgasm.”

You nodded your head in understanding, even though you didn’t fully understand. It was like heaven, pure bliss, and as long as it was happening, you were fine with being ignorant. You just wanted to feel that way again, and you wanted to make Tommy feel that way, too. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Tommy took his cock in his hands and gave it a few pumps. You sat up. He pushed the tip to your lips and you gave it a lick. It was an alright taste. 

You looked up at Tommy nervously, running your fingers down his length.

“Just leave some kisses along it,” he instructed. “I’m not expecting your first time to be perfect.”

You did as he said. He didn’t make any noises, but you were observant and could tell his breathing was getting a little uneven. When you put his tip in your mouth, his hand went to the back of your head, guiding and gentle.

You pulled away. “Do I just . . . take it all?”

“Yes, sweetheart. It’s okay if you gag, just push it all the way in. Breathe through your nose.”

Calming your nerves, you slipped about a fourth of his cock into your mouth, wetting it, swirling your tongue around the way you did sweets like ice cream. 

“Use your hands for what can’t fit.”

You started pumping the rest of his length, the way you saw him do.

Tommy finally made a noise, a little groan. It made you feel more confident that what you were doing was right, so you started sucking more passionately, with more enthusiasm, taking in more of his length — enough to make a difference, but not enough to make you gag.

Tommy let out a little choke and started pushing your head down on him. “Think you can take all of it?”

You couldn’t say anything with your mouth filled, but it was a yes. You wanted to push yourself.

“Good.”

He gave a quick, experimental thrust into your mouth, one that made you gag. Tears welled up in your eyes, but it was gone after a few seconds. It was just so unexpected. It didn’t hurt much, it just felt odd and uncomfortable.

He kept thrusting, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside your mouth. Every time you thought it couldn’t go any further, he proved you wrong. Now you really were crying. You thought that maybe he would stop, but all he did was make a shushing sound and wipe away your tears.

You tried to make the experience as pleasurable as possible for him, and it seemed to be satisfying enough because he didn’t ask you to do anything different. He just had that blank stare, grunting, the only sounds in the room ones of him and the slurping noise you were making.

After a few more minutes, he told you he was coming, and forced you to swallow his sticky, white liquid. 

He pulled out and you coughed. 

You went to him for some comfort, but he was already leaving the room.

You were confused, your throat sore, but then he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel. He cleaned off your face and helped you drink. It made you feel much better.

“I’m tired, Mr. Shelby,” you said.

“Such a princess,” he responded. “Have to do some work once and decide you don’t like it? Just want your own pleasure?”

His words made you look down. Now that you knew how it felt to orgasm that was all you wanted to do, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy your mouth on Tommy’s cock. You were sure that you would get used to it after a few more times, and soon it would stop feeling so uncomfortable. 

“No.”

“It’s okay. All you have to do now is take it.”

You remembered his words. He was going to take your ass next. 

“Can’t we wait a bit—?”

“No,” he growled, pushing you on your hands and knees. “I’ve waited too fuckin’ long.”

Waited too long?

“And besides,” he continued. “Don’t you want this?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “But I just want a little break—”

He slapped your ass hard and you cried out. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, huh? Is it a good spanking? ‘cause I can do that.”

“No,” you whimpered. “I’ll be good, m’sorry.”

He spanked you again, pulling your underwear all the way down and tossing it to the side of the room. “I think I do want to spank you. Pretty, rich girls like you don’t get much discipline, eh?”

You did, but you didn’t know how to say it.

He pulled your top down a little, to reveal some small scars. You knew he could see them, but you couldn’t see his reaction.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Yes, yes!”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means doing as you tell me, sir.”

Satisfied with your response, he rubbed your sore ass, trying to make it feel better.

He grabbed a bottle from the nightstand and applied it on his hands. “This is lube, sweetheart. It’ll reduce the friction.”

He slid his lubed-up finger in your ass and you hissed.

It was the same process he did with your pussy. He pushed in and out, stretching out your hole. It hurt, and you were sure it was bleeding a little, but after a while, it began to feel pleasurable.

Tommy’s fingers started rubbing your clit, distracting you from the pain. He pressed the tip of his fat cock in your ass, shoving it inside it.

“Mr. Shelby, slow down!” you squeaked out.

He didn’t listen. He pushed his cock further in, and it made you feel like your insides were going to snap if he stretched them too much.

“Mmm,” you winced, “is that all?”

“Fuck. That’s only half.”

Tommy held your shoulder with his other hand on your waist. “So tight,” he murmured, pushing further in. “You’re going to make a good pet, I can tell.”

The term was degrading, but you didn’t say anything, not like you had the guts to when he was inside you, not after he warned you that you would get a spanking if you didn’t behave like a good girl.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby.”

He pushed himself all the way in. You felt so full of his cock, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop. He was beginning to move, slowly at first, making sure that you were okay with it.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Tommy asked. The hand on your waist moved to your top, his fingers sliding underneath it.

“Y-yeah.”

“Good.”

He picked up the pace, his balls slapping against your body. Suddenly, the force of his thrusting was pushing you forward, the only thing stopping you from falling over was his grip. You cried out, the pain and pleasure too much for you to handle. 

Your breasts started to bounce, but their movement was being held by the top he gave you, which Tommy slowly pulled up. Tommy pinched your nipples, flicking them, twisting them, pulling on them, whatever he wanted. You whined, half-heartedly trying to shove him away, but while he did stop, he was still cupping your breasts in his hands, continuing to ram your ass. 

‘This is what I want from you,” he grunted, thrusting his cock deeper and deeper inside. “Most days, I’ll want to fuck you like this. I’ll — ah — I’ll expect you to be ready on your hands and knees when I tell you to.”

Occasionally, you could feel the scrape of his pants against your skin, reminding you that his clothes were still on. You moaned when he started rubbing your clit more vigorously.

“Spread your legs further apart,” he ordered.

You did, which only made him gain access to a deeper part inside of you. 

He continued his brutal assault for a couple more minutes until he changed his position. He forced you to lay down on your stomach while he draped his body over your back, thrusting stiff and rough. Now, he could start kissing your shoulders, the back of your neck, any part of your body he couldn’t reach before.

He finally came into your hole, his whiteness spurting out. You could feel it drip out and down your thighs. You tried to wipe it away but he wouldn’t let you.

He flipped you over on your back. He took off your top completely, admiring your naked body. Despite the fact that this man had just taken your virginity, his hungry stare made you cover yourself up. You supposed it was because you weren’t used to it.

“Oi!”

You immediately sprawled your body, fearing a reprimand. 

“There ya’ go.”

He grabbed another wet towel and wiped off your body. He told you it was important, to keep clean and safe.

As you expected, he didn’t give you much of a break. In this hour, you figured that he could only fuck you — or prefer to — when his cock was hard, and within a few moments, it was already starting to rise up.

Once he got his cock inside your pussy, all the way in, despite your squirms, he started fucking — rough, hard, and fast.

“So good,” he praised. “So good for me.”

You whined in response. He was gripping your waist like his life depended on it, making sure you couldn’t squirm or move away. 

“You’re learning so well. Keep still.”

His movements were making the bed and your body shake. You whined, pathetic mewls leaving your mouth. You really weren’t sure how much more of this you could take. Your limbs were starting to feel sore and your mind foggy, like if you didn’t take a break you would pass out from the sheer intensity of the moment alone.

But you didn’t want to. You fought to open your eyes. You didn’t want Tommy to know you couldn’t take it anymore, that would be embarrassing. 

He finally came inside of you, locking your hips together as he murmured something about your breasts getting bigger and swollen, which you didn’t understand, but didn’t ask for clarification regardless.

He pulled out and collapsed beside you, droplets of sweat trickling down his forehead. He was exhausted, and so were you.

After taking a few minutes to yourselves, Tommy said, “I’m never going to let you go, you hear me? Never.”

You didn’t say anything. Somewhere in all that fucking you had accepted your fate. You belonged to Thomas Shelby now, and that was just the way things had to be.

“I ran away,” you finally confessed. “My family . . . they weren’t nice to me. Promise me,” you said seriously, looking into Tommy’s beautiful eyes. “Promise me you won’t send me back. If . . . if you don’t want me anymore, you can just send me on my way, not back to them. Promise?”

Tommy laughed, as if what you had just said was absurd.

“I won’t let you go back to your family. Those oil bastards.”

You paused. How did he know they were in the oil business?

“How did you—?”

“Shhh.” Tommy placed a finger over your lips, silencing your words. “You’re tired. It’s time to sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.” He caressed your face, running his fingers through your hair. You couldn’t fight the command, you were truly feeling sleepy, and all you wanted to do was shut your eyes and rest.

But that nagging thought in your head. How did he know?

He didn’t give you any more time to think. He pulled you close to him, close enough so that your head was resting on his shoulder and your legs were draped over his body.

“Sweet dreams. Tomorrow we’ll have a few more rounds. You’ll need your rest.”

And with that, your eyes fluttered shut and you were taken away into the abyss of darkness, into your dreams. 

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@alice-drysdale

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #pinguwrites

[gimmeurtmi]

of lipstick stains and zipper games — lee know

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, dom!minho, teasing in public, marking, biting, use of “good girl,” “brat,”, minho calls reader “bunny” agenda, oral (m. receiving), mean!dom, praising, sorta dom drop, mushy at the end bc i can’t write something filthy without that, strength kink if you squint

inspo: the zipper™️, as well as @lino-nyangi’s beautiful brain. we yelled at each other about this until we both cracked and now i’ve lost my mind. we each ran with this plot as far as we could go, so here’s joo’s version of minho and lipstick stains. 🫶🏻

notes: i feel like i should apologise, but he did this to us. stylist noona, i will give you anything you ask for.

{ wc: 4698 }

you agreed to meet at the party as your friends were all getting ready together and minho was going to be late anyway because of his schedule cutting a bit close to the start time.

so when minho did finally arrive, you let out an audible gasp when you saw his outfit. the way the black fabric wrapped around his biceps, the black necklace, the baggy pants and the big belt. your eyes scanned all of him—from the way his hair was pushed away from his face to the rings on his finger.

and then you saw the big silver zipper in the middle of his shirt, practically calling your name.

you stood up from the couch you were perched on and walked right up to your boyfriend, grabbing his hand wordlessly and taking him somewhere. anywhere.

a room. some room.

you slammed the door shut before pushing your boyfriend up against the wall—his eyes big and wide in front of you.

you weren’t sure who’s room you were in, but it didn’t matter to you, the sight of his outfit was enough to push your brain into tunnel vision mode. and minho was the only thing you could see.

“hello to you, too,” minho said. you weren’t listening to the smirk in his tone, and he could clearly see that, as he followed your eyes and their journey across his chest. “you like the outfit.”

“i like your chest,” you said, shamelessly, running a finger across the exposed skin.

minho chuckled, bringing his arm around your back and pulling you closer. the sudden movement, and your lack of focus, caused you to stumble forward—instinctively steadying yourself with a hand on his chest.

you looked up, minho’s eyes right in front of yours. he had the upper hand, like he always did, and his eyes were sparkling down at you. proudly.

but underneath your palm you could feel a loud and steady beat telling you otherwise. a small secret only you know, one that minho trusts you with.

you smile up at him for a second before looking at your hand—your secret holder—and rubbing your thumb across his chest lightly. then you move your hand as you feel around his muscles, admiring the work he does on his body.

“wanna kiss…” you mumble, so softly you don’t even realise you spoke your thoughts out loud.

a finger wraps around your chin, tilting your head upwards and snapping you out of your daze. only to be met with minho’s eyes, glazed over and pupils wide, casting another spell on you.

minho leans forward, trying to capture your lips, but you pull back.

his eyebrows lift upwards as he whines.

“my lipstick,” you explain.

“you just said you wanted a kiss,” he argues.

“oh,” you feel a blush creeping up your neck at the knowledge he heard you, “t-that’s not what i meant.”

minho cocks his head to the side curiously.

“i wanted to kiss you,” you explain. he doesn’t seem to understand, but leans forward to accept this kiss. you push him back.

“i meant your chest,” you confess slowly.

minho laughs, eyes disappearing for a moment before he looks at you—smile wide on his face.

“so you really like the outfit,” he confirms. “i should keep it.”

“who gave it to you?” you ask, finger trailing up and down against the zip line.

“hyunjin,”

“i should go thank hyunjin then,” you nod, giving minho a small smile before walking away.

you’ve barely turned away from him before the grip on your back tightens and he’s once again pulling you closer, flush against his body.

“aren’t you going to thank me first?”

“thank you for what?”

“just for looking so good,” he smirks.

“i don’t remember saying you look good,” you narrow your eyes at him.

he laughs. “you didn’t need to say anything, bunny. you’re drooling.”

“i am not drooling,” you protest.

minho cocks his eyebrows up in a silent challenge, finger wrapping around the zipper. he’s just holding it, and you know what he’s trying to do, so you will your eyes to lock with his. don’t look down.

you hear the zipper slowly moving down and then his finger is trailing against your cheek and you can’t help it. you need to see more of him.

you let your hands see first, trailing them up his stomach until they slip into the shirt and onto his warm skin, muscles hard and sculpted underneath your touch. you trail your hands to his sides, where his waist dips and his chest swells and that’s when you lose all semblance of self control.

you lean down and press a kiss onto his chest, at the small dip his pec makes. you kiss his skin again and again, pulling away slightly to be greeted by the sight on his chest. a deep red kiss, almost perfectly shaped, sitting oh so proudly against his smooth skin.

the excitement swirling in your stomach soon turns into guilt, for ruining the perfect surface of his chest, and so you bring your finger up to clean the stain off.

minho grabs onto your wrist so tight it almost hurts, pulling your hand away from him.

“don’t touch it,” he says, firmly. you quip your brows up at him.

a moment passes in silence, minho’s chest rising up and down quickly.

you break away from his stare, so intense it heats up your cheeks, and look back at the stain you left.

you decide the kiss looks lonely, and lean down to add another kiss right below his nipple.

you can hear minho exhale weakly.

this kiss left the perfect stain—and you smile softly to yourself. minho clears his throat to say something, but you won’t be listening. instead you ghost your lips higher, to the middle of his left pec and suck on the skin.

minho almost squeaks in response.

you bite his skin in between your teeth before releasing it, gleaming at the red splotch. some of it is your lipstick, some of it is the bruise slowly growing darker.

for good measure, for pure symmetry, you do the same next to the other kiss—your tongue flicking against his nipple before you suck on the skin right below it.

minho is ticklish on his sides, and so sensitive, so he makes a sound between a sigh and a giggle and a moan, causing you to laugh against him.

he jolts.

but he doesn’t say anything—no teasing remark, no smug retort, he just lets you decorate his skin.

you aren’t satisfied yet, and with your hands steadying you against him—planted low on his hips—you wrap your lips around the zipper. catching it in between your teeth, you slowly push it downwards, nudging the fabric away with your nose before attaching your lips to his stomach.

you keep going, minho making no move to stop you. in fact, he’s all but frozen against you, the only sign of life are the small sighs and whines coming from above you.

you sink down onto your knees, hands sliding down to stable yourself against his thighs.

you pepper soft kisses above his belt, so soft they don’t leave any mark, before you bite onto the skin just above his hip bone. his skin is taut, especially around his pelvic bone—so you don’t have much to tug on before minho whimpers at the sudden pain. you lick over the small marks your teeth left, kissing him soothingly, leaving another kiss behind.

bzzzzz.

a loud vibration against your hands causes you to jump, instantly breaking the trance you were under. you move to get up, but minho places a hand on your shoulder keeping you in place.

he takes his phone out of his pocket, answering the call. all he says is sure. then the phone is back in his pocket and he’s looking down at you.

his fingers sink into your hair.

“wanna explain yourself, bunny?”

“i, well, the outfit is just—“

“—shhh,” he cuts you off, fingers cupping your chin. he rubs his thumb against you, his actions soothing. his eyes screaming condescending. so does his voice when he says, “no thoughts left in your little brain?”

“i’m sorry, min,” you blush. you’re not sure if it’s his tone or finally stepping away enough to see his body. you left more than a dozen marks on him, lipstick and hickeys combined. “i’m really sorry.”

minho pulls you up onto your feet, tucking a few hairs behind your ear.

his eyes lock onto your lips, his thumb rubbing against your chin again. he rests it on your bottom lip before pulling it down.

“you brought your lipstick with you, right?” you nod.

minho grabs your shoulders and moves you around the room until you’re facing a small mirror sat on a desk.

you gasp.

your lipstick is smudged completely, covering your chin and your upper lip—your cupid’s bow disappearing behind the colour. you wince.

“i need to go help chan drag in some kegs,” he says simply, zipping his shirt back up. the metal has a small red stain on it. “i’ll find you after.”

“minho,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “you can’t go like that. i need to wipe off the lipstick.”

he laughs. “you’re not touching them.”

“but—“

“—you gave me these kisses so i’m keeping them. you can’t just take them back.”

he says it so seriously all you can do is just nod. he turns to leave, shirt closed and outfit presentable again. he adjusts his black necklace as he runs his fingers through his hair, tidying it up.

there’s only one evidence to what you’ve done, and that’s the pink tint on his chest.

before he grabs the handle and leaves you call out his name.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise again.

minho smirks at you, chuckling lightly. “it’s okay, baby. you can’t help how weak your boyfriend makes you.”

and then he leaves.

you find some wet wipes in the room you’re in, and soon enough the mess you made on your face is taken care of—a fresh coat of red lipstick adoring your lips.

you make your way back to the living room, where the party is actually taking place, and find your friends again.

they don’t say much about your absence, instead asking you to judge their game of twister.

from the corner of your eye you can see minho and chan, each carrying in a beer keg. minho’s arms flex at the weight of it, but he doesn’t seem like he’s putting too much effort into carrying it.

that zipper dangles as he moves, taunting you, sliding down ever so slightly. you catch a glimpse of red on his skin, peaking out from underneath the black fabric.

minho can feel you staring from across the room, and once he sets the keg down in the kitchen he looks over at you—winking as his lip curls up into a smile.

you force yourself to focus back on the game instead.

once you’ve given up on twister, you make your way over to the giant jenga tower where a few of your friends are starting a new game.

you feel a strong hand snaking around your waist, minho’s familiar perfume wrapping around you.

“when do you wanna go home?” he whispers in your ear.

“min, i haven’t even said happy birthday to yuna yet,” you scold him.

“okay,” he kisses your cheek lightly, “just let me know as soon as you wanna go.”

“do you have a schedule tomorrow?” you turn to look at him. you were sure he had the day off tomorrow, you specifically remembered asking him about it.

“i have a schedule tonight,” he whispers. you knit your eyebrows, “after this i’m booked in to fuck you until you can’t talk.”

“min!” you whisper-yell at him. he laughs.

“what, you think you can pull that shit earlier and nothing will happen?”

“i got carried away,” you admit, “i said i was sorry.”

“oh, you will be sorry.”

minho kisses your forehead before causally asking if you want something to drink. you say no, mostly so he doesn’t stand too close to you, and then get back to your game.

you find yuna later, hugging her and wishing her a happy birthday. she drags you over to your boyfriend—because he’s sitting next to felix and you know yuna likes felix, and you’re happy to help her.

so you both sit down, sliding minho away from felix so yuna can sit next to him.

minho puts his arm around you.

“can we go home now?” he whispers.

“no,” you chuckle at him.

“happy birthday, yuna!” he practically yells. she smiles at him before looking back at felix. “what about now?”

“why do you wanna leave so bad?”

“why do you think?”

you shake your head, trying your best to dismiss the intense stare he’s giving you. it’s then you notice he’s playing with the zipper again—as if trying to bait you. you promise yourself you’re not that easy to manipulate.

minho pulls the zipper down, exposing more of his chest, exposing another kiss you left behind, before he stretches against the couch.

he doesn’t say anything before he gets up and walks away.

you follow him instantly, following him all the way into an empty part of the kitchen. it’s only then you realise you fell for his bait; hook, line, and sinker.

it’s confirmed when minho smirks at you.

he raises his eyebrows in question.

“you shouldn’t show off,” you try scolding. you grab the zipper and pull it back up. minho pulls it down right after.

“you can’t just walk around with hickies all over your chest,” you roll your eyes at him.

“i can, and i will,” he smiles innocently, “what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t show off my girl’s art?”

your eyes instinctively flick down to his exposed chest. it really was a masterpiece. it was a masterpiece before you even touched him, but with the red and purple marks all over him—he looked perfect. like something fit for a museum.

but a small voice inside your head decided you should be the only one to look at him, it should be your burden and no one elses. that thought lit a fire inside you, one you tried so hard to control. you took in a deep breath.

you knew you couldn’t look at him any longer without adding another one, so you reach for it and close the zipper.

minho pulls it back down.

“min!”

“you want it closed that bad?” he licks his lips.

“yes.”

“then do it yourself,” he shrugs.

you roll your eyes, knowing he’ll just open it again, but reach for the silver zipper anyway. he catches your wrist in his hand quickly.

you scoff, trying with your other hand, before both are captured in his hold.

“close it the way you opened it, bunny,” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours, “don’t waste your pretty little mouth like that.”

you know what he’s doing, but you also just can’t ignore him when he tells you to do something, not in that soft voice of his.

so you lean down, catching the zipper in between your teeth. the grip on your wrists is much looser now, you could pull your hands away if you wanted to. but you don’t want to—not even a little bit.

you pull the metal between your teeth, pulling the shirt together until just a small sliver of his skin is seen, a beautifully light pink.

standing up straight after you finally hid his beautiful chest away, you look right into his eyes. he’s breathing heavily, moving closer to you so his nose is right against yours.

“mark me again,”

“min, i—“

“please.”

you grab onto the end of his shirt to pull it down and expose his collarbone a bit more, planting soft kisses along it before you start sucking on the skin. his hands wrap around your body as his eyes flutter softly. it’s not that the act itself turns him on as such, your lips are definitely his favourite, but it’s the knowing it’ll leave a mark. knowing your lipstick is staining his skin. knowing how wrecked you’ll look with lipstick on your chin when you come back up to face him.

when you do pull away, finger running over the red marks on his skin proudly, he looks you straight in the eyes and says, “can we ditch this fucking party now?”

his knuckles are white at this point—the only thing holding him back from jumping you is his sheer willpower, and knowing you’re in public and he can’t possibly have you the way he wants you in this kind of setting.

“min, don’t be rude. it’s a birthday party,” you smirk at him. there’s nothing better than watching his self control slowly slip away from him, and that look on his face gets so much more desperate when you run your finger over his stained skin one more time.

“i’ll find an empty room,” he negotiates.

“don’t be ridiculous. just calm down, yeah?” you kiss the corner of his lips softly before walking away— deciding it’s time to socialise.

when minho catches his reflection a few moments later he almost loses his mind when he notices the bright red stain on the corner of his lips.

he really thought he was going to win.

but it’s fine, he rationalises, he knows exactly how to get you.

minho walks into the garden, following the loud bass surrounding the pool.

he isn’t too sure who decided edm remixes of every taylor swift song is the right vibe for a party but he doesn’t care. it’s enough to set his plan in action.

you spot him from across the garden, your kiss still proudly by his lips. you were sure he was going to wipe it away—but then you realised how foolish that was of you. he even let the fucking zipper fall down again, exposing the now purple hickey on his chest.

you felt your ears burning up. the heat travelled all down your body, settling in between your legs when you saw minho swaying his hips to the loud beat.

his thighs flexing, grabbing your attention by the belt wrapped around his right thigh. he rolled his body as he mouthed along to the words of the song.

you know what he’s doing, you can tell when he sends a wink your way. he’s insufferable.

you walk all the way up to him, a few people around you chuckling when they see the colour on your lips matches the colour on his skin. you ignore that.

“we’re going home,” you grab his forearm. minho keeps dancing, rolling his hips closer to you.

“what do you mean?” he blinks at you.

you groan. “you wanted to go home, let’s go.”

“i think i wanna stay now,” he shrugs.

“we’re leaving,” you insist.

“but i’m having so much fun,” he beams, spinning around.

“you’re having too much fun,” you shake your head, “i can’t take you anywhere.”

he snakes his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “dance with me?”

“absolutely not,” you laugh. there’s only one way dancing with minho ends—and it is not suitable for a public space. “i’m getting an uber.”

you would feel bad for the uber driver if you were able to think about anything other than minho. you didn’t realise how much his dancing bothered you until he closed the car door—and you grabbed his face, kissing him hard.

minho pushed you back by your shoulder, eyes wide. “don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs, “just calm down.”

you roll your eyes at him for repeating your own words back to you.

it’s clear he doesn’t want to kiss you when the driver can see everything that’s happening behind him. but you’re pretty sure he can’t see what’s happening on the seats.

you place your hand on minho’s thigh.

“careful,” he warns. you elect to ignore that.

you slide your hand higher, and higher, your finger inching closer and closer to his crotch.

he leans right next to you, lips by your ear as he whispers, “listen, bunny. you’re on thin fucking ice right now.”

you press your palm into his crotch, feeling how hard he is already. you squeeze your thighs.

“i don’t think so,” you somehow gather the courage to say.

“has being a brat ever turned out well for you?” he challenges.

“i think you were being a brat tonight,” minho lets out a noise that sounds like a question mark, “showing off like that.”

“you started this shit,” he reminds you. you start palming him, moving your hand up and down.

“so i’m finishing it.” you lean closer to him, pressing a wet kiss onto his neck.

minho promises himself he’s not going to give you the satisfaction of any kind of reaction, even if you are touching his dick and kissing his neck.

that is, until you find that one spot right below his ear and tug on it with your teeth.

embarrassingly, minho can’t help the small moan that escapes him. the car starts moving much faster all of a sudden.

it isn’t three more minutes before you arrive, minho quickly paying the driver (and apologising) before dragging you into the house.

as soon as you enter the bedroom, minho starts laughing.

shit.

“what the fuck was that?”

you don’t answer him, instead locking your hands behind his neck and attaching your lips together.

he kisses you back, finally, tongue moving against yours desperately.

you kiss until your lungs start aching, pulling away as you both catch your breaths. minho’s eyes are glossy and big and desperate and you lean forward to catch his lips again. he stops you this time.

“min—“

“—no,” he says simple, shaking his head once. “you don’t get to ask for anything. you got everything you wanted tonight and look how fucking spoiled it made you.”

“min, please,” you whined.

“and you can’t even wait your turn to speak, either,” he tsks.

you open your mouth to say something, but quickly close it. minho smiles.

“tell me what brought this bratty bullshit out of you, baby,” he asks, although you know he knows the answer. you indulge him anyway, knowing it’s the only way you’ll get what you want. if minho gets what he wants.

“your outfit, min,”

“did a stupid shirt really make you forget how to act?” minho chuckled cockily.

you nod.

“do i need to remind you how a good girl behaves?”

you nod.

“on your knees,” you fall to your knees, looking up at him expectedly.

minho cups your cheek softly, rubbing his thumb against your skin. he traces your lips.

“i wanna see your lipstick on my dick,” he says slowly, “want it to get all over your chin again.”

you open your mouth dutifully, sticking your tongue out for him. he chuckles at you, smiling proudly.

he unbuckles his belt, letting the baggy pants pool around his feet. you move closer to him.

“should i keep the shirt on?” you nod. “speak.”

“it looks good on you,” you state the obvious. then an idea pops into your head, once you realise where minho placed you. “if you take it off you’ll be able to see my art.”

minho looks up, catching his reflection in the full length mirror. he beckons you up with two fingers, and you don’t even need him to tell you what he wants.

your pull the zipper down with your teeth, all the way, and push the fabric off his shoulder. then you sit back on your knees.

“baby,” he coos down at you, filling your chest with warmth, “you’re so so good for me.”

you nod, unable to stop your smile.

“you see,” he says, voice soft and sweet, “you like it so much. you like being my good girl?”

“yes, min,” you nod.

“you’re gonna be good for me and let me fuck your face?” you nod eagerly.

you wrap your hands around his thighs again, feeling the way they flex against your palm, and open your mouth wide.

you breath in slowly, looking up at minho as he carefully slides his dick into your mouth. he gives you a few seconds, seeing the slight nervousness in your eyes, and once you close them and start sucking on his length—he makes good on his promise, thrusting in and out of your mouth.

he builds his pace up slowly, gradually sinking deeper and deeper until the tip nudges against your throat. he fists at your hair, scrunching it into a very messy ponytail, enough to be used as leverage as he fucks deeper and deeper into your mouth.

the noises you’re making are obscene, spit leaking out of the corner of your mouth, but you don’t care. the noises minho is making are much louder—moans and groans and praises of your name.

you swallow around him when you feel the spit running down your chin, and that’s when minho’s thighs start tensing.

“fuck fuck fuck,” he pulls your face away by your hair but you lunge forward, sucking on the tip as you feel the warmth shooting into your mouth.

minho lets out a long low groan.

you swallow it down, embracing the salty taste, and stick your tongue back out.

“holy shit,” he whines.

minho lets go of your hair, slowly backing away to the bed before he collapses on it. he falls to his back, and you slowly crawl on your knees to him, kissing his thigh softly as you watch his chest moving up and down quickly—the marks on him standing out perfectly.

“i wasn’t going to cum in your mouth but i’ll let that slide because it was so fucking hot,” he says. you nod in agreement.

he brings his arm over his head, still catching his breath. you quietly let him, remembering your rule to not speak unless he asked you too. you lean your head against the bed patiently.

“bunny?” you nod. “bunny, talk to me. i need your voice.”

you jump up from the floor, quickly sitting down next to him on the bed.

“hey, min,” you say, voice hoarse, but you cough quickly and speak on. “how are you?”

he only nods back, breathing in deeply. you run a hand over his chest, down his stomach, tracing the marks you left on him. “can i put one on your thigh, too?”

minho chuckles, looking up at you finally.

“yeah, of course you can.”

you nod happily before leaning over to kiss his thigh.

“bunny?”

“yeah?”

“was i.. too harsh?”

you lift your head up, looking at him with nothing but fondness in your eyes.

“no,” you promise him, “i loved it. and besides,” you lean down and peck his lips softly, giggling as he chases you for another one, “you said you’d fuck me until i can’t talk so i’m still waiting.”

“give me a sec,” he laughs.

you nod, before quickly remembering to say, “okay. i’ll just kiss your thighs until you’re ready.”

“okay,” minho nods, running his hand across your back softly. “stay close to me though, please. if you want.”

you nod at him, understanding silently what it is he needs. you lay down on your side, still right beside him as you lean towards his thighs—ready to mark up another part of his perfectly sculpted body.

“i want to, i always want to be close to you,” you verbalise, seeing the small sigh of relief leaving his body. the tension in his body fades slightly, and you know kissing him will help even more.

you ghost your lips over his thighs, sucking on one particular spot until it turns red. minho’s fingers are in your hair, keeping you close.

out of nowhere he says, “i’m keeping the shirt.”

“that’s a good idea,” you agree.

“i’m keeping you, too,” he adds, quietly.

you laugh loudly at that, grabbing the hand in your hair and kissing his palm. “that’s a good idea, too.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz smut #stray kids x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz x yn #skz fics #lee know fanfic #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x reader #minho x y/n #minho x reader #lee minho smut

[straykeedz]

day 26: lee know x reader x han: mirror sex

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; mentions of kink exploring but nothing too descriptive; fingering (f receiving); cum tasting; nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don’t!!! 🤨); blowjob; cumshot; choking if you squint; creampie; clit play; mentions of overstimulation but it’s not described; oral sex after reader’s been creampied oops; slight mxm if you squint ;♡

wc: 3,8k;

okay the premise is that i absolutely hate this fic. i started four different plots for this kinktober fic and i’m not satisfied with this at all, but i needed to post something otherwise i would’ve quit. i know myself. so bare with me if this sucks, i went through (i still am tbh) a creative block and couldn’t come up with anything better.

also, funny anecdote: 99% sex, 1% mirror lol

let me know if there's any mistakes - finished writing this super late at night so there might be!

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 : @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; @tooskathepiratefromshield ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

🪞

You’re not used to having two men in bed with you.

You’re not used to having two pairs of hands on you - touching your body, caressing it, squeezing it. You’re not used to having two tongues on your skin - licking every inch of your flesh; two mouths - biting every spot they can, praising you, humming against your body every time they get a reaction from you. 

One of them - your sweet, beloved boyfriend Jisung, a cutie pie in the streets, an absolute freak in the sheets. A man with whom you’d tried everything in bed - literally everything, and tonight is no exception. 

The other one - his best friend Lee Minho. 

It was Jisung’s idea to have a threesome with him. Your jaw had nearly dropped when he specified that he wanted to have a threesome with a man - not any man, his best friend. You’d assumed he wanted to see you in bed with another woman, never in a million years you would’ve guessed a scenario like this - you, sprawled on your bed, Jisung hungrily kissing your lips as Minho plays with your naked breasts, pinching one nipple with his fingers and teasing the other one with his lips. 

Well, let’s just say Jisung is a man full of surprises - not that you’re complaining, naturally.

“A threesome?”, your words nearly came out as a loud squeak. 

Beside you, Jisung simply nodded. “I mean, only if you’re up for it, too.”, he shrugged. “I can live without it.”

Kink exploring with Jisung was always fun and exciting and it never disappointed you. Never. Before sex with him, you didn’t even know you could cum from your nipples only, for example. Or that you could squirt. Or that you loved overstimulation. Or or or or. Kink exploring with him was honestly your favorite thing, and you wanted to do something for him in return, help him explore his kinks.

“No, it’s okay. I want to try it.”, you promised, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Are you sure?” Jisung asked you, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “You don’t have to say yes just because I want it. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel pressured, love.”

“I’m not, I don’t feel pressured.”, you smiled at him. “Just… Do you have someone in mind? Someone you’d want to do this with?”

Jisung nodded. Now you were curious to see her - to see the woman he wants to do this with, together with you.

“Who is she?”, you asked him, but you saw him lift his eyebrows and blink a couple of times.

“Oh, it’s… it’s not a she. I was thinking…”, he trailed.

“Thinking…?”, you encouraged him.

“Minho.”

 And you can’t really blame him - Minho’s hot as fuck and he surely knows what he’s doing in bed. His fingers are expert on your skin, despite this being the first time he actually touches you, but somehow he seems to know exactly where to touch you and what to do to make you squirm under his fingers. Said fingers wander all over the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until they stop right before he could brush your mould with his delicate digits. 

“Can I touch you down here?” Minho lets go of your nipple to look you in the eyes and ask you the question - big, dark eyes staring deep into yours, pupils blown and you actually find it cute. 

“Oh, God, please. Yes.” It should’ve come out from your lips - instead, it’s Jisung who says the words. You giggle, seeing your boyfriend so desperate and eager, and Minho chuckles as well. 

You nod, smiling at him. “Yes."

Your breath hitches when Minho’s cold fingers slip under the fabric of your panties and finally touch you there. The way he touches you is so different than when Jisung does it - his touch is timid, tentative, and his eyes are staring into yours to search for any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t know how you like to be touched down there, after all it’s only the first time you’re doing this. His fingers brush your entrance, and he bites his lower lip when he finds out you’re already wet - no, sopping, your panties are drenched in your arousal. 

“She’s wet?” Jisung asks Minho, his fingers replacing his friend’s on your nipple, unable to tear his eyes off of where Minho’s fingers disappear inside your underwear. 

Minho looks at Jisung, then nods. “So wet.”, he dampens the pads of his fingers, coating them in your arousal, then you feel his digits parting your folds, and you suck in a breath, wrapping your fingers around Jisung’s wrist. “Listen.” Minho tells Jisung, and then he slowly starts to move his fingers inside of you, until squelching sounds are all you can hear. 

Jisung lets out a shaky breath, then looks at you with full-blown pupils and flustered cheeks. “Oh, jagi, you’re so wet.”, he huffs. “You like having Minho touching you, don’t you?”, he pinches you nipple. At the same time, Minho’s fingers brush and tease the spongy spot inside of you, making your toes curl. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to speak properly. 

“Touch her clit, hyung.” Jisung instructs. “She won’t be able to cum otherwise.”

Minho chuckles, then raises you eyebrows at you both, because he can feel you’re already close, and he hasn’t touched your clit yet. “Mh, we’ll see about that.”, he applies more pressure on your g-spot, making you whimper as your grip around Jisung’s wrist tightens. “Think you can cum like this, y/n?” Minho asks you, looking you in the eye. 

You nod eagerly, feeling already close to your first orgasm of the night. Jisung’s a bit confused now and slightly offended, because he never made you cum with his fingers on your g-spot before. Okay, maybe it’s because he gets so eager and needy that he just has to pull his fingers out and fuck you with his cock after a couple of minutes, but still. And now his best friend is about to make you cum with two fingers shoved inside of you, and it’s the hottest thing Jisung’s ever witnessed, and he wants you to witness it too. 

“Look at yourself, jagi.”, he holds your chin with his fingers, then turns your head to face the huge mirror doors of your wardrobe at the end of your bed. You’re met with your reflections - you, sprawled on the bed, Minho lying next to you, Jisung on your other side, staring in the mirror as well. “You’re so fucking hot, my sweet love. About to cum with another man’s fingers inside of that sweet little pussy of yours.”

And Minho didn’t even notice the huge ass mirror doors before - too lost in how incredibly sexy you are, with your chest quickly rising and falling, your legs shaking as his fingers quickly work you up to an orgasm. But now - now he’s unable to tear his eyes off of your reflection in the mirror, and he can’t wait to see how beautiful you look when you cum. 

“Fucking filthy…” Jisung mumbles, letting go of your chin, but you don’t move your head. “So fucking needy, look at you.”, he mocks you, then pinches your nipple, making you wince. 

Then, Jisung turns to look at Minho. “You wanna see how hot she looks when she cums? Wanna hear how sweet she sounds?”, he asks, and before he even realizes it, Minho’s nodding like crazy. “C’mon then. Make her cum, Min.” Jisung demands. 

And Minho does make you cum - fingers on your spongy spot, rubbing it mercilessly as your walls clench and your legs shake. You let out a muffled cry, closing your eyes as you release around Minho’s fingers, soaking them completely. The boys are speechless - both looking at your reflection in the mirror, an ethereal sight. Minho’s sure he won’t be able to forget it anytime soon - the way your fingers fist the sheets and your chest rises and falls as you bite your lip. 

You whine at the emptiness once Minho removes his fingers from inside of you - long, skinny digits glistening in your orgasm. “You should taste her, hyung.” Jisung speaks softly. 

Minho brings his two fingers to his mouth, then wraps his lips around them and sucks, swirling his tongue all over them to lick them clean - you taste amazing. “So sweet.”, he mumbles, pulling out his fingers from his mouth, and Jisung quickly wraps his hand around Minho’s wrist to wrap his lips around his hyung’s fingers, even though Minho’d already licked your arousal off of them. 

“Minho…” you shake him off of his own thoughts, and Minho’s eyes focus on you - cheeks flustered, still panting. “Can you fuck me now? Please.”

Minho’s eyes widen and Jisung hums around his hyung’s fingers. For a good second, he’s shocked, because he wasn’t expecting such words to leave your mouth. His eyes immediately flick to Jisung, and the younger boy smirks, releasing Minho’s fingers from his mouth. 

“Whatcha waiting for, hyung? You heard her.”, he says, grinning from ear to ear. Then, Jisung looks at you. “You need cock that bad, don’t you, jagi?” 

You nod, licking your lips. Jisung chuckles. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Minho’s gonna give it to you real good.”, he turns to look at his friend. “Aren’t you, hyung?”

Minho bites his lip, and his fingers begin to wander all over your body once again, pads of his digits brushing your nipples once again, feeling them harden under his touch. “I am, I am.”, he nods, and then palms himself over his boxers - now feeling incredibly tight. 

Now that he knows how your walls feel wrapped around his fingers, he can’t wait to find out how you’ll feel around his cock. It should feel at least a bit wrong - to be this impatient to fuck your best friend’s girlfriend, shouldn’t it? He shouldn’t be so turned on by this. However, in the confines of his black boxers, he’s rock hard. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he kneels on the mattress and hooks his thumb at each side of his underwear, beginning to pull it down his legs. You bite your lip at the sight of those beautiful dancer’s hips and thighs, and your eyes widen once his cock is finally freed - it slaps against his abdomen, hard and thick, tip beautifully pink resting against his abs. 

“Shit.” 

Again - it should’ve come out of your mouth, but it’s Jisung who swears under his breath at the sight of Minho’s cock - at least one and a half inches longer than his, and slightly thicker. And Jisung’s not small - the opposite.

You prop yourself on your elbows, looking Minho in the eye. “How do you want me?”, you ask him, hooking your fingers on the side of your panties, trying to pull them down your thighs, but it’s hard using just one hand, so Jisung helps you and slides them off completely. 

There’s only one plausible answer to that question in Minho’s mind. 

“On your back, like this. In front of the mirror.”, he answers a little too quickly. Ever since he saw your reflection in the mirror earlier, he knew he wanted to fuck you in front of it - see your head hang at the end of the bed, witness your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he pounds into you. 

Jisung smirks - he knows his hyung too well. 

You smile, too, positioning yourself just like Minho wants you, and you shiver when he places the palms of his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. Even though he made you cum earlier, you still feel a little shy to be this exposed in front of him - bare pussy on full display for him to see. Minho spits on his palm, then pumps his hard cock a couple of times. 

“Still okay with not using a condom?”, he asks you, staring into your eyes, wanting to make sure you’re still comfortable with him fucking you raw, like you agreed. You nod, a clear signal you didn’t change your mind. 

Jisung gets rid of his boxer just as Minho aligns his tip at your entrance, making your body jolt in surprise because it feels even bigger, prodding at your entrance, ready to slip inside any second now. 

“I’m putting it in now.” Minho tells you, and you suck in a breath when he finally enters you - thick tip parting your folds, slipping inside your wet, hot cunt. And once he bottoms out inside of you, Minho, too, needs a few seconds to recollect himself. 

Once again - it shouldn’t feel this good, to be buried inside your best friend’s girlfriend’s hot, tight pussy. He shouldn’t feel so eager to please you, to fuck you, to thrust inside of you ruthlessly until you’re falling apart on his cock, begging him to let you cum. 

It shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. It does, especially when Minho lifts his eyes to meet your reflections in the mirror - the sight so filthy and pornographic. Him, kneeling between your spread legs, balls deep inside of you - and you, lying down beautifully on the bed, one hand fisting the sheets and your other hand on Jisung’s thigh. Finally, Jisung - with his hard cock out, fingers wrapped around it as he too watches the scene before his eyes.

Minho begins to move at a slow and steady pace, knowing that if he goes too fast he’s not going to last. The way his cock moves inside of you is deliciously beautiful, hitting all the right spots, its tip brushing your g-spot with every movement, facilitated by how beautifully curved upwards his length is. 

You kick your head back, looking at Minho’s reflection in the mirror, a smile spreading on your face when you see his furrowed eyebrows and focused expression as he watches how your tits bounce with every thrust. 

“D’you like it?”, you purr, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You like watching yourself as you fuck me?”

And Minho whimpers, hips snapping to meet yours. “Yes- fuck.”, he swears. “I like looking at you more, though. So fucking sexy.”, he compliments you, continuing to fuck you a bit faster now that he’s sure he won’t cum too soon. 

The room is filled with moans - yours, Minho’s, even Jisung hums contently from time to time, eyes set on where Minho’s body is connected to yours. He bites his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy lips spread around Minho’s thick length, and he can only imagine how tight you feel. He bets you’re dripping on the sheets, and he can’t wait to fuck you once Minho’s done with you. Right now, however, he needs to relieve some of the tension he’s feeling - cock painfully hard in his fist. 

“Think you can take care of me as well, jagiya?” Jisung asks you, lazily pumping his cock. “Think you can make me cum while Minho fucks you?”

You nod, and Minho thinks he’s about to pass out - fucking you and seeing you focused on making Jisung cum at the same time? This is even better than his fantasies. “I can, baby, you know I can. I can take care of you always.”, you whine, eager to touch your boyfriend’s cock.

Minho’s cock is pretty and he surely knows how to use it - but Jisung’s is your favorite. Long and thick enough, a long vein decorating the underside of it, and a dark pink tip - perfect. Perfect for you to wrap your hand around, perfect to take in your mouth - in your throat, actually, until your nose is completely buried in Jisung’s soft pubic hair, just how he likes it, before he’s shooting in your mouth. 

“That’s right, jagi.”  Jisung caresses your cheek, brushing your lower lip with the pad of his thumb as he gets closer. “I’m so fucking lucky to have you, so fucking lucky you’re mine.” It feels almost weird to hear these words come out of Jisung’s mouth when you have another man’s cock inside of you, but you know he means it, and you know he’s right. You’re his. “Now open that pretty little mouth of yours, my jagiya.”

You do, and then you feel his cockhead brush on your open mouth, before entering it. Minho doesn’t stop moving inside of you - eyes set on the image of you giving your boyfriend a blowjob while he’s fucking you. He has to grip your waist with his fingers to balance himself as he continues to thrust, eyes flicking from your stuffed mouth to the mirror, then back on your mouth and back on the mirror. 

“One cock’s not enough, mh?” Jisung mumbles, running his fingers through your hair. You slowly shake your head, humming. “Such a pretty little slut, isn’t she?” Jisung moans, turning his head to look at Minho, as you continue to suck on his tip - your fingers wrapping around the rest of his length to jerk him off. 

“The prettiest.” Minho bites his lip, still pounding inside of you. “She’s so tight, Han.”, he huffs, muffling a sound. 

Jisung grins. “I know.”, he chuckles. “You should try her mouth next. Feels like heaven.”

“Better than her pussy?” Minho pants. 

Jisung scoffs. “Yah, don’t be ridiculous, hyung. Nothing feels better than that pretty little cunt.”

It’s funny - that they’re having this kind of conversation while they’re both inside of you at the same time. It makes you hum around Jisung’s dick, which sends a shiver down his spine. You can feel he’s close, and that encourages you to cup his hot, heavy balls with your hand, knowing it’ll send him over the edge in record time. 

“God, jagi, you’re gonna make me cum.”, he breathes, kicking his head back as his whole body tenses. “Wanna cum on your tits. You gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”, he rambles and nearly slurs his words, already seeing white. You hum once again, and he pulls away from your mouth, wrapping his own hands around his cock as he strokes himself swiftly. 

It’s a sight that blesses Minho’s eyes - Jisung’s cum paints the soft flesh of your tits mere seconds later, decorating your skin, some of it landing directly on your nipples, and as much as it sounds absolutely crazy in his mind, Minho feels the urge to lick them clean. Wrap his lips around your soft, sensitive nubs and suck them clean. It makes his cock throb inside of you. 

Jisung wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand as he tries to regain his breath as his cock softens, still glistening in his own cum and your saliva. Minho can’t fucking wait to have your lips wrapped around his cock, too. The mere thought is enough to make his cock twitch once more.

“Fuck, I think- I think I’m close.” Minho mumbles, tightening the grip on your hip as he fucks you harder now. “Can I- fuck, can I-“

“You can do whatever you want.”, you pant, already feeling the familiar sensation in your lower belly as he mercilessly pounds into you, thick, veiny cock stretching you out so good you nearly see stars. “Fuck, Minho, do something, anything.”

Minho’s hands travels all over your body - his fingers smear Jisung’s cum on your tits as he collects some of it on his pads. Then, his fingers reach your mouth, and you gladly welcome them when he shoves them in your mouth, tasting your boyfriend’s cum off of his best friend’s fingers. Meanwhile, Minho’s thrusts turn unsteady and erratic. You’re both so, so close. 

“Where can I cum? Fuck, I’m so close, where-“

“Inside of her.” Jisung speaks, and you nod eagerly. 

“Inside, Min. I want it inside.”

Minho cums inside of you, with his hand gently wrapped around his throat - eyes set on your reflections in the mirror doors, watching how your eyes roll in the back of your head and your lips part as you release around him, your walls squeezing him tight, milking him until he gives you all of his cum until the very last drop. 

The sight is so fucking hot Jisung’s hard again. 

Minho’s movements come to an abrupt halt, and you’re both panting heavily, trying to regain your breath and consciousness. He’s careful when he pulls out - your legs are still shaking and you’re pretty sensitive, he doesn’t want to overstimulate you, he doesn’t know you actually love it. 

Luckily, your boyfriend does. 

An evil grin appears on Jisung’s face. “Why don’t you lick Minho clean, jagi?”, he suggests, and you eagerly nod, despite being exhausted. “I bet he’d love it.”, he grins at his friend, who’s still pretty dazed from his orgasm. 

Minho nods nonetheless, and kneels right next to you so that his now half-limp cock is close to your mouth. You nearly don’t realize Jisung’s presence between your legs, lying flat on his stomach, staring at your creampied pussy and biting his lip at the sight of Minho’s cum dripping from your hole. 

You wrap your lips around Minho’s cockhead at the same time Jisung places his tongue flat on your hole and laps at it. “Mhh, Minho tastes good, jagi, doesn’t it?” Jisung huffs against your lips, continuing to lap at your folds, tasting your orgasm mixed with his friend’s. 

“So good, baby.”, you hum, pulling out Minho’s cock from your mouth. Then, you look at the older boy and lick your lips. “Wanna find out how Jisung tastes like?”, you ask him. 

Minho really shouldn’t be nodding so eagerly. 

You chuckle, collecting some of Jisung’s cum from your chest with your digits, bringing them closer to Minho’s mouth. He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around them, humming as he sucks Jisung’s cum off your fingers, swallowing it greedily. 

“You liked it?”, you giggle, and Minho nods - full-blow pupils, absolutely sexdrunk. “I think you should lick it off of me, then. Here.”

Minho licks Jisung’s cum off your chest, and Jisung licks Minho’s cum off your stuffed pussy. 

You chuckle, running your fingers through Minho’s hair as he hums against your skin, swallowing every single drop until you’re completely clean. “Good boys.”, you praise them, and they both whimper. Predictable. 

Jisung lifts his head, lips a bit smeared with both your and Minho���s cum. “Jagi, I need to fuck you now, please.”, he practically begs, staring at you with big, doe eyes. You nod, smiling at him. “On your tummy.” Jisung instructs, and you nod once more. 

“This, hyung,” Jisung starts, gripping your hips and positioning your body so that your ass is up and your face flat on the mattress, looking at Minho as he speaks “is the exact reason why we’ve got mirror doors on our wardrobe.”

Jisung spits on his palm and pumps his cock a couple of times before aligning his tip to your entrance. Minho looks at you in the mirror. 

“So I can look at her fucked out expression while I give it to her from behind.”

🪞

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#lee know smut #han jisung smut #lee know fic #han jisung fic #minho smut #han smut #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung hard hours #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids masterlist #skz #stray kids #skz masterlist #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #lee know x reader #han jisung x reader #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee know x y/n #han jisung x y/n

[coryosbaby]

Ultraviolence // E.L + C.M.

(Pt. 5)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader, Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), some angst and shit parents // nsfw ! Threesome . Spit kink . Degradation & praise . Cum swallowing . Oral (m & f receiving) . Fingering (f receiving), choking, overstimulation — dom! Chad, dom! Ethan, sub! Reader

A/N: If this isn’t necessarily the pt 5 people were hoping for I deeply apologize. This is also more plot than porn. But I have a shit ton of ideas for part 6 that I’m rly excited to post 🤭🤭 Ty for reading 🙌🏻

Ethan’s cock is hot and heavy inside you as he fucks your needy cunt with an aching rage. Your nails are digging into his back, small whimpers slipping from your lips as his teeth bite down on your jugular. His hips cant into you at an incredible pace.

It’s been two days. Maybe three, you haven’t really been counting with how much Ethan has been shoving his cock into any hole on your body that exposes itself to him. He’s taking his anger directed towards his dad out onto you, while Chad watches.

Sure, Chad likes watching you get fucked; there’s no doubt about that. But the way Ethan has been touching you for this long is almost starting to concern him. But he knows he can get this way sometimes. Sometimes Ethan gets the need to blow off steam. After high school the once nerdy guy Chad used to be friends with is now a mean sex fiend.

Not that the other can talk, though. Because he’s been going along with it too, cock flush in his hand while he towers over your face and let’s it rub along the expanse of your kiss bitten lips, his abdomen clenched tight with the ache to release. His apartment is hot today, the summer heat reaching a high of ninety eight degrees. It’s a wonder none of you have passed out yet, even with the a/c running. Sweat drips down Ethan’s neck as he pounds you. Your eyes look up at the both of them, pupils dilated and streaming tears. Ethan’s thumbs move to the corners of your mouth and roughly pull them apart to expose the whites of your teeth.

“Good fucking girl. Yeah, open that mouth wide.” Hes demanding, and you can’t say no as you move your mouth open wider. He grins, his spit landing on your tongue and making your eyes roll back. “You fucking slut. This is all your good for, isn’t it? Being used as a little sex doll. That’s your place now, right? Can’t go anywhere, staying in this fucking bed being our fucking sex slave.”

You nod, fucked out and desperate; you’ve came more times than you can count since Ethan had decided to crash on Chad’s couch and you had showed up. Of course you took breaks, but… that wasn’t too far off from them just doing it so you wouldn’t faint or die from dehydration.

“You wanna taste my cum, bunny?” Chad’s voice growls out. He’s close, hands rubbing against his tip in just the right spot. Your tongue peeks out as you close your eyes and wait for his seed to hit you. And when it does, salty and bitter against your taste buds, Ethan lets out a loud animalistic groan and dumps his third load of the day into you. Your worn, body feeling incredibly hot and used. You’re too fucked out for another orgasm.

“Are you done?” You ask quietly, as Ethan pulls out of your abused cunt. He nods, fingers coming up to run across your jaw and tickle the tips of your ears. Chad moves to lay beside the both of you, his hands going to wrap around your wrist as a form of comfort.

“Yeah, baby. We’re done. C’mere, you have to rest.”

“Can we get McDonald’s after this?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Chad cuts in. “Anything you want.”

“I don’t know,” Ethan jokes. “She has her belly full now, doesn’t she?”

Chad grimaces. “Shut up, dude. That’s gross.”

“You literally swallowed my cum two days ago.”

“Yeah, because you held my head down —“

“You would’ve swallowed it anyway!”

A smile plasters on your face at their antics, and your eyes begin to close as the two boys wrap their arms around you.

Ethan watches the outline of your jaw, your soft neck littered with hickeys and bruises. And then to Chad, who’s hands gently graze his as they rest on your tummy. He smiles.

It’s almost perfect, this way. Chad has a job, Ethan’s working on getting one, and you… you’re here, and you’re perfect and you’re beautiful and—

Ethan is so mad.

It’s almost perfect— but there’s a problem. Of course there is, why fucking wouldn’t there be?

You still live in your parent’s house, after all.

Oh, you could move if you could. You could live with Chad, with Ethan, make things the way you want them to— but your mother is demanding. Threatening to cut off your college tuition money if you left was the part that had made you stay. Even after they accused Ethan of being a perverted freak of a person, after saying you were ‘too innocent’ and ‘too young’ to know what he was doing (you and Ethan are only two years apart).

So after they had left for an emergency business venture you knew where you could go. They told you not to, but it’s not like they’d figure it out. And being locked in your room was really starting to bore you.

Ethan’s blood has been boiling since the night you got caught. He wishes he could give you the money for your college, wishes he could give you the entire fucking world. But that doesn’t work on Chad’s salary and probably won’t work on the one Ethan’s about to have.

He wants you and Chad to only be with him.

That may sound selfish, but Ethan isn’t known for being necessarily generous. He wants the entire world to be cut off from the both of you, wants the only thing you both see to be him. Ethan could tear the world apart limb from limb just to have you and Chad forever.

It’s really starting to fuck with him.

Ethan is starting to scare you a little bit.

It’s not the sex— well, it is a little bit, but you enjoy it. He’s just been so.. out of it, recently.

Not in the sense of ‘he’s losing feelings’ or anything like that. It’s when he gets this look in his eyes. Sometimes when he thinks no else is looking, when those doe eyed things go dark and he seems like he’s thinking of doing something he shouldn’t. You don’t know what it is, exactly. But he looks so far off— as if he’s somewhere else. And he’s become more violent; in sex, in the way he holds you down and then holds Chad down the same way. It’s confusing.

And it’s also making you a bit nervous.

Chad doesn’t seem any different, at least from what you can tell. He’s still his same soft self— outside of sex, of course. He takes Ethan’s behavior in stride (and with a little bit of prep). But you can tell that he notices, too.

“I just think that you should drop out.”

Ethan’s voice is blaring with a twinge of annoyance, as he drives you back to your house. You told him he shouldn’t, that it’s too risky. But he won’t listen. You also know that when he says ‘drop out’ he actually means ‘leave our parents and be with me.’

You roll your eyes, hands going down to adjust your pink sundress.

“I can’t just drop out, Ethan. I have a career I’m set on.”

“We can make it work—“

“Don’t be stupid.” You mutter. His hands tap against the steering wheel impatiently, face turned up into one of anger. His blue shirt clings to him tightly, muscles are prominent.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” He snaps.

“Don’t make dumb suggestions.”

After that snide comment he shoves you into the house and bends you over the kitchen counter, regardless of your protests, like he did the first time. And then he left you with cum dripping all down your legs, while you waited for your parents to get home from their trip.

When they did you decided to not eat dinner that night.

Your mom has been on the fence since your secret had been revealed to the Landry household. Ethan — your stepbrother — has been fucking you for months.

You still remember the sound of Wayne’s voice screaming at the both of you:

“How could you do this?! After everything we’ve done for the both of you?!”

“You’re a disappointment to me, Ethan. I want you out!”

And then after, when Ethan had left, the words spewed at you.

“I can’t believe you would be such a whore.”

“How could you do this to our family? To me?!”

“You’re never seeing him again.”

Yeah, right.

You sigh, plopping down onto your bed. It’s almost time for you to go to college, the summer ending.

What a wild story you could tell if you had an essay due about your summer.

Your parents are downstairs, now. Doing— you don’t really know what they’re doing. You don’t come down from your room anymore.

A text dings on your phone. You smile.

E🫶🏻: you okay?

me: mhm

You pause. You bite your lip as you assemble to next message.

me: I miss u :)

A moment for him to reply.

E🫶🏻: I miss you too, bunny

E🫶🏻: chad said he misses you too

me: I miss u both >:(

me: we’ll see each other more when I’m away at college tho <3

E🫶🏻 : maybe I have a way to make us be with each other all the time :)

me: oh yeah lover boy? And what would that be

E🫶🏻: you’ll see.

Your brows furrow. A surprise, maybe? A gift? Maybe a new way for you to sneak out…

You don’t know. But your eyes are beginning to become heavy and sleepy; you tell him and Chad both good night and begin to sleep.

Your dreams have become nightmares, more or less. Images of blood and gore, a hand holding on a little too tight — it’s been the same for the past few nights. Your family, slaughtered.

A loud crash makes your eyelids flutter open.

You think you’ve only been asleep a few hours. Your hello kitty clock reads 2:37 a.m in giant bold letters, and your heart beats harshly against your chest at the sudden sound. Furrowing your brows, but being cautious, you grab the pink pocket knife you kept beside your bed. It isn’t much, but it’s something, at least. Creeping closer to the door you can hear that the noise has stopped— but that doesn’t calm you. You think of waking up your parents but you don’t want to make them any more mad than they already are.

You open your door. No one is outside your room, it seems. The sound must’ve come from downstairs. Creeping down the wooden steps you go into the living room and see that it’s empty.

Except for the window.

The one near the couch is wide open, and you can see that a house plant beside it got knocked over and broke all to pieces. You gulp, hands gripping the knife tighter. Your dreams have made you extremely paranoid, and if there really is an intruder, you won’t go down without a fight.

Another crash— from the kitchen this time, but not as loud as before. It was more of just.. commotion. You prepare yourself, breath heavy. You make your way to the doorway, prepared to strike and stab and hit….

Someone grabs you.

The knife clatters to the ground. So much for protecting yourself! Your immediate thought is to scream, but no words come out and a hand is covering your mouth. When they whirl you around and begin laughing your brows furrow and hot tears well up from the stress.

….It’s fucking Ethan.

He’s standing there, a shit eating grin on his face, wearing a muscle tee and jeans.

You sneer, pushing him harshly as you wipe your eyes.

“You fucking asshole!” you whisper yell. “You scared the fuck out of me! What the hell is wrong with you?”

He chuckles. “Sorry, sweetness. It’s just so funny to see the look on your face.”

You sniffle, crossing your arms and willing yourself not to cry anymore. “‘S not funny.”

Ethan’s smile drops, his hands reaching out wrap you into a hug. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, promise.”

He doesn’t seem that sorry, but you drop the subject.

“You literally broke in, Ethan. What if mom and dad wake up? You’ll be in so much trouble, i swear— they’ll call the fucking police on you—”

Your words stop when he turns his back to you, stalks into the kitchen, and begins rummaging through the house’s well renowned junk drawer.

“Calm down, baby. I just needed to get my watch. I forgot it before I moved… aha! There it is!”

He excitedly turns around and shows you the black and red band. He slips it around his wrist. You roll your eyes, and scoff.

“You broke into the house so you could take a watch?”

He gives you a mischievous look. He moves closer to you and his lips graze yours. You can’t help but smile.

“Maybe I came to take something else with me, too.”

You bite your lip, but your eyes go to the stairs.

“We can’t do that here. We’ll get caught.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Ethan quips. He sighs dramatically. “I guess I’ll just be on my way then..”

“No!” Your immediate to keep him here. To keep him with you. You aren’t the same without his company.

He smiles, lips grazing your neck. His teeth scrape against it and you admire the sting. “There’s my good girl.”

You kiss him, harsh. He tastes fresh and sweet. His hands find your waist and he pushes you against the kitchen counter. You whine, your hands reaching for the bulge in his pants— but your wrist hits his pocket and you feel something inside of it. You reach in, playful. But when you pull it out, it’s the pocket knife you dropped earlier. He must’ve picked it up when you weren’t looking.

“Why do you need my knife?” You ask, as his lips peck your chin and jawline. He looks down, at it in your hands, white teeth shining as he smiles.

“Maybe I like to have a part of you with me wherever I go.”

It’s endearing. But this feeling settles in your stomach— something you can’t quite place. However, you slide the blade back into his pocket and begin to kiss him again. His fingers are right there, just about to brush over your clit.

And out of the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs light flicker on.

You panic, lips breaking away from Ethan’s as you hear footsteps. You’ve lived long enough in the house to know who’s it is— it’s your mother’s. Your eyes widen.

“Hide!”

Ethan mouths the words oh shit before running into the living room. You pray he finds a decent hiding spot. Your mom comes down the stairs, in her robe and with messy hair. She seems like she’s just woken up.

“Is there someone else down here with you?” She says, confused.

You shake your head, nervously biting your thumbnail.

“No, mom. No one is down here. It’s just me.”

“Huh.”

She looks around and she walks into the living room. You follow her in fear, and when you catch Ethan’s sneakers underneath the window curtain you almost fucking scream in frustration. Your mother is too busy looking at her broken plant and the opened window for her to notice.

“Oh my god! Did someone break in?” She exclaims. Your heart beats rapidly.

“Uhm— no!” You say, exasperated and lying.

You try your best to think up a good fake story. “I slept-walked again, i think. I’ve been meaning to tell you… it’s been a while but I think it’s starting up again.”

You haven’t slept-walked since you were twelve. Your mom sighs, annoyed.

“Shit. I’ll call the doctor in the morning, then. We’ll see if he can find anything for it. Because if it’s to the point where you’re breaking things and opening windows..”

“—That’s not necessary, mom, really.”

“I’m calling them, y/n.” She states. She looks you up and down for a moment. If you don’t know any better you think a look of disgust is on her face. “For once in your life, please make yourself useful and clean this up.”

Your head hangs down, and you bite your lower lip to keep from snapping at her. “Yes ma’am.”

When she goes back up stairs, Ethan comes out of his hiding spot. You breathe out a sigh of relief, but Ethan’s fists are clenched.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that.” He says.

You shrug, threading your fingers through his. His curls are sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed. He’s absolutely precious, even when he’s angry.

“Doesn’t matter, E. Forget about it.”

He narrows his eyes at the stairs, as if she was standing there and he could see her. Your thoughts go back to the knife and you get that feeling again. But your lips are back on his in an instant and it seems that Ethan quickly forgets his rage. His hand rests on the back of your head as he tries to drag you to the couch. But you shake your head and giggle.

“Not here. I’m not getting caught fucking you again.”

“Technically, we weren’t fucking.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Still.”

So you drag him up the stairs. It’s scary, because your parents are also up there, but at least you’re both better concealed. He fucks you raw on the bed and chokes you with his incredibly toned arms. And then he lays with you and you both smoke a joint out the window so it doesn’t smell.

But even then, and even after he left, your thoughts still linger on the knife he had taken with him.

© 2023 bratty-lxndry444 🤏🏻 all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours !!!

#Ethan Landry #Ethan Landry x fem! reader #stepbrother! ethan Landry x reader #stepbrother! ethan Landry x fem! reader #ethan Landry smut #Chad Meeks Martin #Chad Meeks Martin x reader #Chad Meeks Martin x fem! reader #Chad Meeks Martin smut #ethan Landry x chad Meeks Martin x reader #ethan Landry x chad Meeks Martin #scream #scream vi #scream iv #jack champion #mason gooding #scream vi fanfiction #ghost face x reader #ghost face

[ceridescent]

Jealous Freak — F., Amber

Amber Freeman x Female!Reader

Summary: amber freeman has some serious issues, says samantha carpenter, your most loyal friend. but who cares when she's so hot when bothered, with you to take the fall?

Warning/s: top! amber, bottom!reader, heavy use of expletives, degradation kink, praise kink, strap-on usage, choking, pet name use (bunny), hair pulling, vaginal fingering, manhandling, & mentions of blood.

Word Count: 4, 417

Author’s Note: this is my first! evah! scream fan fiction! i’m so excited !!!!! (may or may not have a part two plotted in mind :*).

a loud chuckle erupts from you by your best friend’s comment, the ribbon that tied both you and your woman together; beginning freshman year, two months ago. 

you finish putting on your halloween costume, glazed under the vanity lights. taking a look at yourself before applying your makeup, you take pride at how your girlfriend fashionably knows how to navigate these things. 

amber didn’t mention anything about dressing up as a bloody bunny, which you are grateful for, not that she gave instructions for you to follow. she only mentioned it once, her desire to design a halloween outfit for you, and you excitedly approved, bouncing up and down her lap as you did so. then, she made you promise not to ask any questions nor clues regarding your costume, as it would spoil the fun. 

and now the box sits on top of your mattress, hard and empty. 

the post-it note: something cute and small, just like my bunny, along with a smiley face, sticks on the mirror in front of you. 

“aah!” your throat scratches at your scream as you are met with a ghoulish-looking mask. “what the hell?!?” you screech turning around, kicking the quiet masked man with your knee. 

“ow! baby!” an all too familiar, muffled voice sounds out of the mask, the anguished tone expressing its anguished features. 

the man takes it off, revealing

“amber,” you sigh, coming over to her, giving a hug whilst massaging her crotch, the place you hit hard on. 

“you almost knocked me out,” she sniffles, making you pull away to look at her glossy eyes. she then smirks.  

“nailed it, baby,” huskily, she bites her lower lip, trailing her eyes all over your clad form, lust etched all over her gorgeous face. you hit your playful girlfriend’s shoulder, earning a small groan from her. immediately you rub it to soothe, feeling the soft fabric on your palm, its soothing texture.

“so what do you think about my costume?” 

amber twirls around with a beam, showing it off. “huh? what do you think? left you speechless?” she raises her brows to urge you to say something, giggling as you trailed your eyes up and down her ghostface costume. 

you take a huge gulp of your saliva, feeling very exposed. “left me screaming…” 

“oh definitely!” amber sniggers, “that really was my desired reaction from my baby girl. you just never fail to make me proud,” 

you moan as she peppers kisses all over your neck and collarbone, each contact getting louder as her lips trails down your body. “amber,” you mewl, pushing her away. you give her a pointed look. she innocently shrugged. “what? i’m just kissing you there so i won’t smudge my girl’s makeup!”

“how considerate,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes, walking back to the vanity mirror. 

“you done?” she asks, plopping down on your mattress beside her gift box. “i think you are,” she sighs, staring at your plump ass whilst you’re bent over the vanity desk, applying lipstick. 

“patience, girlfriend, beauty takes time.”

“but you’re already so beautiful,” she half-sighs and half-whines, stomping her doc martens like a bratty child. “i want to kiss you on the lips already!”

“wipe off your drool, get in line. you’re not the first one,” you giggle, finalizing your glam with a lip gloss. tilting your neck to see your girlfriend’s reaction, as expected, with her arms crossed together against her chest. her ghostface mask sits flatly on top of her lap. amber freeman’s the jealous type. overly and overtly. you walk slowly towards her.

shaking her head, she makes an eye-roll before pulling you closer by the waist, rubbing them up and down, tightening her grip as she thumbs the front of your bodysuit. she stands up then, her hands still glued on you, and you can’t help but to look at how tight she clenches you as if you’re her property. until she pulls your chin up to focus on her brown eyes. amber’s lips part, hungry ruby reds taking her time. 

you almost drown in them, spiraling into the caramel pools of carnality and admiration. blinking twice, you escape amber’s dilated pupils, only to count the moles on her pale face. you hear a shuffle. “just keep looking at me,” she instructs, mumbling, “just look at me,” her breath ghosting over your cusps, teasingly inching her red plump lips against yours. “is it okay now to mess up my baby bunny’s lips?”

you gasp, feeling her softness bump against your own for a millisecond with a tender gaze, batting her eyelashes at you, entertained by how you will respond to her advances. 

“it’s-“

amber opens her mouth with a sigh, the way she comes with your mouth around her clit, chuckling as you stumble back slightly, losing your grip around her padded shoulders. “oh,” she purrs, pulling you back in with the chain she slyly strapped to your collar. 

“hmmm,” she hums, admiring her work. 

“it was what, bunny?”

you stammer, trying to find the words, clearly struggling to form a coherent thought. 

“well whatever that is, it can wait. we’re already five minutes late to the party so we better get movin’!” she exclaims with such eagerness, tugging your leash in the process. you choke the moan that was ready to pop out, grateful to be preserving the amount of dignity you could spare. 

amber doesn’t let go of your leash while she takes on the ghostface mask, until she puts you in the passenger seat. 

amber’s muffled giggle could be heard before it disappears, a click of a red glowing button placed between her neck and shoulder. she turns at you, eerily slowly, pulling out a fake bloodied knife out of nowhere, creating stabbing motions. 

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

you groan, clenching your thighs. a sudden throb pulsed through you when she did that, piling up to the list of her teasings of the day. “baby,” you whine, “we’re already 10 minutes late. that can wait,” you remind her as you drag your words, the whole time staring at a blank mask stare, unaware if she’s reciprocating. but it’s your girlfriend amber freeman, who loves to make eye contact. 

“you don’t treat me like that-“ 

amber tugs at your leash and you whimper, cowering as the heat between your thighs intensifies. amber has never been this rough. 

she huffs, “you’ll be sorry for that,” putting away her props and turning off her voice changer device. 

“you got your seatbelt on, baby?” she asks, back in her sweet, loving voice. you smile, caressing the mask, “yes, baby, good to go!”

“oh my fucking god!” you hear sam exclaim, raking her shocked eyes all over you. “you’re a slutty bunny!”

“now, now, sam, don’t eye my girl like that,” amber warns with a scoff, shielding you protectively from the fake lara croft. “hey, i can handle myself, thank you very much,” you complain, pushing amber away. you’re met with a smirking sam, looking at amber with a knowing look. 

“then maybe you shouldn’t have chosen that halloween costume for everyone to ogle at her, ms. smart pants,” sam tells amber matter-of-fact, waving to the crowd which definitely eyed you like a fish in an oasis, howling and whistling as they passed you by. 

“you’re scorching, ms. croftie! are you out looking for gems?” you ask her flirtatiously, twirling your hair, like girls do when they tease their friends. samantha chuckles and slaps your shoulder playfully, “yes and the bigger the better!” giving you a high-five whilst your girlfriend handles the situation she’d cause with her ghostface costume and her fake bloody knife. 

 “fuck off!”

“oh, scary,” sam mocked sarcastically, dragging you away from your distressed girlfriend. “that woman could be stupid,” your best friend sings, giving you a drink. “i think she meant well,” you fend, twirling a lock of curled hair as you sip the alcohol. “do i really look like a slut?”

sam rolls her eyes at your innocence with an amused grin. “you’re wearing a damn bodysuit with bunny ears and a bunny tail, y/n. let’s not forget you literally have a collar and leash strapped to your neck. 

“you’re dressed as amber’s slutty pet this halloween, god’s sake.”

samantha carpenter nods at your blown away look of wide eyes and an open mouth, her words slowly registering through your pokey brain. she lets a moment of silence encompass the both of you as you look down at your costume. the red on your lips. the fake bunny parts you happily placed on your body to dress the part. the collar that’s tight around your neck — to impress amber — to have the best halloween costume in the party — to make amber proud. 

“oh,” you say. 

“oh. is that bad?”

your best friend chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief. “well…” she checks you out, biting her lower lip in the process. “if amber wasn’t in the picture i for sure-“

“it’s not bad for you, princess. i think. but for amber,” sam sighs, tilting her head to see how her friend is doing with all the oglers. “it’s 50/50.

“she loves to show you off. this is her most elaborate way of parading you to everyone, at the latest. she loves for every single one of us to know that she owns you, like a pet, or something. i bet she got too carried away to forget about all the motherfuckers who want to steal you away from her.”

all that talk with sam had your mind going hazy, if it wasn’t already. you’re not even sure if putting on that costume and staring at yourself the whole time in the mirror looking like an animal was part of amber’s slick foreplay, but now that you’re in here…

another strong pulse digs in between your thighs, pestering the nerves into a blaze. and you don’t even remember if you’ve put on a panty to salvage the bottom of your bodysuit, but that made you throb even further. 

“both of you are stupid in ways you complete each other,” she concludes, nodding her head. 

“thanks?”

samantha chuckles, checking you out again. “you’re welcome, bunny.”

“no one calls her that but me!” amber yells at sam’s smirking face before she grabs your wrist, pulling you away from the crowd and into the nearest bathroom down the hall. 

you jump at the loud noise of the shutting door, everyone’s halloween-prepared faces staring back at you. before you could fully comprehend the circumstance, your girlfriend shoves you against the bathroom door and pins your arms above your head. the hollowed holes stare at you dead in the eyes, you can feel it, amber shooting lasers into yours. she groans as she pulls away. 

“baby,” you coo, your voice wavering, “will you take off the mask? i’m getting worried…”

“fuck this,” amber cursed in a muffled growl before unveiling the mask, shoving her lips onto yours, biting it harshly it stings. 

you moan at the pain and the pleasure of amber soothing your cut with her lips, gradually getting softer at the moment. she slides her gloved hands around your waist and squeezes it so hard you open your mouth to sigh. taking the opportunity, she slides her tongue in to suck yours. 

“yes, baby,” she pushes the words into your mouth, “you’re doing such a good job for me.

“we just got here and i gotta fuck you to let them know who owns you,” she huffs it itritatedly as if she can’t believe it; like things didn’t go as she had planned. 

“but you were gonna?” you ask in a whimper, panting. the softness of her full lips feels so addicting you didn’t want to open your eyes. 

she slithers her knee against your core, grinding up against it, moaning “oh fuck yeah baby i was gonna,” breaking the kiss for a moment to solely feel your warm pussy.  “i was gonna fuck you on the terrace where everyone could see. but that’s too far un-fucking-fortunately.” you both moan, picturing the image inside your dazing heads. 

“amber,” you whine, her cursing turning you on more. 

“and i need to be inside you baby. i need it so b-bad,” you whimper and nod your head in agreement, amber’s cries setting your mind off completely.

but then you giggle.

“are you wearing any panties?”

“why don’t you come find out, ghostface?”

amber growls and pulls your neck into a fiery kiss, each nip and suck sending you into a spiral of frenzy. amber unbuttons your crotch, pushing her fingers on your clitoris successfully. 

“fuck baby!” she moans loudly, closing her eyes. her head falling behind you against the door, her forehead resting against it. “fuck, baby…” she whispers, using her thumb to rub on your clitoris, her middle and ring finger ghosting over your hole. you both hear the slosh of your pussy echoing inside the bathroom. 

“you drive me so fucking crazy.”

you can’t even think straight. 

your head reels and you haven’t even drank alcohol yet. amber’s scent alone got you fuzzy; however, the way she yelled your name and proudly claimed you in front of everyone, her possessiveness, her jealous intent, her desire to claim, fuck, that just had you dripping in your fucking bodysuit. 

“are you ready for me, baby?” she asks in a low tone, saccharine and soft, and before you could respond, 

“ah,” you scream, her fingers sliding easily into you. she holds you back, her left hand on your hip to hold you down, shaking her head as she stares at you with blown out eyes. 

she bites her lip, breathing heavily with you, the party noises outside blocked out by your moment. “i slid in so easily, baby. i can’t believe i own this slutty pussy,”

“y-you own it,” you muster to say aloud, letting her manhandle around your waist, planting her mark over there as well. 

“i do, yeah?” amber’s got that cocky smirk all over her face, the one thing you want make out with. you nod your head, pulling her for a kiss. 

“of course i do,” amber grunts, pulling away but not before biting your lip, pumping her fingers into you, her pace getting quicker. “i own the sluttiest pussy in town,” she groans as she watches your pleasure-stricken face, blood oozing out of your busted lip. it takes all her might not to nibble, sucking off all the blood.  

amber’s wrists angles diagonally, her tips hitting against your g-spot. you scream high-pitched, caught off guard, falling over the door. she chuckles as she catches your frame, kissing your cheek as reassurance. 

your girlfriend’s  grunting continues, a series of possessiveness and promises bursting out of her dirty mouth, luring you into your orgasm. you do nothing but moan in heat, nodding your head, and taking every hard pound. 

you grip onto her shoulders, the pace and the pounding driving you to the edge. 

and then she pulls away. completely. 

you fall on your bum and cry her name, watching her figure in a blur. “baby?!” you squeak out, pushing yourself up with your palms to no avail. your weak legs shake. your heart pounds as she goes over to you, her gaze predatory and her movements aggressive. 

“come here,” her gentle voice calls in total opposite of her actions as she yanks you by the hair, manhandling you by the chest area, tossing your front against the sink of the bathroom. “see that?”

you see it — the smudged makeup on your flushed face, the few littering marks on the left side of your neck, your disheveled hair, the falling bunny ears. you nod your head, squeezing your thighs together to get some sort of comfort. you’re so empty all of a sudden. “fix your ears for me, bunny.”

you do as told, positioning your bunny ears on the top sides of your crown, making them look untouched. amber hums in approval. 

“there we are,” she caresses your cheek with a smile, which soon turns into a smirk, its transition so terrifying. you watch intently with innocence in the mirror, aware of what she’s going to do but still the need of her to do so to confirm it. amber’s soft features turn into a sharp and hollow ghostface mask. suddenly she’s not your girlfriend. and yet with her thumb caressing your side and the rest of her fingers wrapped around you in a possessive hold, you know it's still her. 

“now that we’re both in our costumes,” she sighs, her muffled voice turning sinister and rough, “i can get started.”

she pushes her front against your back like she’s burying something in there and you gasp with your head thrown back, feeling amber’s bulge nesting on your ass. “hmmm,” she hums like she’s thinking, “this doesn’t seem right, bunny. do you think it’s correct that i’m not sliding in?” she pants, trying her best to fit it in but “it just won’t budge, bunny,” she tells you. 

you shake your head immediately, desperation coating your face. “n-no! n-no! it’s-“ you groan as she begins to hump on you, whatever emotion she’s portraying you cannot see. “please take out your cock!”

“where is my cock?” she teases, rubbing herself against you, positioning it as if her zipper’s unzipped. you whimper, unable to proceed with your girlfriend’s playfulness. “it’s on my ass, please! give-“

“and what’s my name, pretty girl?” you hear the octave drop of amber’s voice, the edges rough and spicy. she’s using her bedroom voice now, you know. 

“please am- ah fuck! mmm!”

two deliberate spanks are harshly pressed on the sides of your asscheeks, causing you to bounce due to the constricting space. because your girlfriend is right behind you, she feels you rubbing against her dick. 

“what’s my name?” she almost shouts, impatience dripping down her tone. 

“ghostface! please- i-“

“please…?”

“please give me your cock, please ghostface. please, ghostface,” you moan, desperate and needy you feel like a flame that’s going to be burnt away. “bounce for me one last time then, bunny, and ghostface will give it to you.”

you nod your head excitedly, bouncing up and down against ghostface’s clad dick, feeling her thrust every up of your ass. you stop when she grips tight against your sides and a “good bunny, so good,” praise leaving her cruel mouth. 

you bite your lip to contain your excitement as you hear amber unzipping her blue jeans, letting it pool around her ankles. you whimper and pout when you see her dick standing tall in her hand, nodding your head nonstop when she asks

“do you want this? do you want my dick in your pussy?”

“please, ghostface. i need your cock in my cunt. please fill me up,” 

all the while giving your most innocent look, knowing what it does to your girlfriend. 

amber snarls and places her left palm against your abdomen to position you — ass up, and then her left hand goes over to your shoulder blades, pushing them down, sheating herself into your pussy hole in one go. 

ghostface doesn’t leave any room for adjustments, growling “take it! take it you little cock slut!”, pounding herself in and out of you, your sinful cries combined with your awfully loud pussy taking everything in. 

she joins into the music with her modulated sounds, the noises so unfamiliar but you know it's her.

you didn’t know amber was into this type of roleplay, although subtle, but it probably was already a great indication of her obsession over the stab franchise. she would always joke around about being ghostface, and asking if you would consider being an accomplice when she goes into a killing spree. 

“yes that’s it, that’s it you fucking slut, take it all in. dirty my cock with your juices,” she husks as you mewl and thrash around your girlfriend, your body pliable and delicate to amber’s liking. 

“fuck fuck fuck,” you cuss with your head going downcast, as if you were on the best rollercoaster you’ve ever rided on. “oh my god, fuck-

“fuck!” you scream, your neck being pulled up by the throat, the blank stare of ghostface staring right back at you in the mirror. “don’t fucking look away, bitch! look at me! look at me while i fuck you!”

you cry and nod your head, mascara running down your cheeks as you glance at yourself in the mirror before looking at her. you bite your lip at the debauchery of the situation — a woman with a ghostface mask fucking you in someone else’s bathroom as a party goes on — making your pussy even wetter. 

“that’s it, that’s it,” ghostface pants, her head dropping down to watch how her length disappears, your ass blocking the whole view. “take it like that, good bunny. that’s my good bunny,”

goosebumps flare up your skin as you gasp, catching your breath, all the while beginning to feel the rush of your climax. you hold onto her arm to signal her to slow down, “i- slower, ghostface-ah!” but she smacks your ass raw to no avail. 

“what do you mean, slower?” amber’s voice returns, muffled and husking. she rams her cock deeper into you, every thrust pronounced and fast. “are you gonna cum, baby doll?”

“mm-! plea-!” she smacks you again, this time on the right side of your breast. “no!” she yells and fucks you harder. 

amber yanks your hair back so you're arching even more, the tip of her dick hitting right into your g-spot. “god damn, right there!” you whine, meeting her thrusts in the middle. “you’re such a messy whore!” she takes her clutch away and without her support your face falls onto the sink, almost. thankfully your left arm firmly rests against the marble tile. 

“i’ll decide if you get to come!

“fuck you, fuck you, i hate your sexy ass,” she groans, her thrusts getting sloppy, her pace going slow. “please,” you beg, “please let me come around your cock, ghostface,” you added the title for great measure. “please, i’ll even let you fuck me in front of the girls who wants m-“

you gasp and start feeling your blood clog up around your throat, “don’t you fucking dare try to bring the others girls up and manipulate me, you fucking bitch,” her grip vice-like around your neck. “i may be a jealous freak but that doesn’t mean i’m stupid.”

ghostface takes off her mask, revealing her flushed face and her disheveled black hair. 

a sigh of relief washes over you, seeing your girlfriend after twenty minutes of being rough fucked. 

“but this,” you mewl and roll your head back, thoughts being derailed off your mind, amber’s hold around your neck getting tighter, “this little fucking makes you so fucking stupid. doesn’t it?”

“u-huh. u-huh,” you agree, not really understanding what’s going on now. you’re seeing stars. “i thought so too, bunny.”

and when you thought amber’s going to finally make you come around her cock, she takes off her grip around your neck, turning you into a coughing fit, saliva dripping out of your mouth. “god, fuck. fuck this pussy. so fucking tight!” she curses it into the air whilst she stares at your pretty flushed face, all railed out because of her. 

“i hate it when everyone looks at what’s mine. i hate that i can see what they think of you when they see you in these clothes,” amber huffs, biting your neck, leaving marks of purple and blue. you hiss, tilting your head to give her more room, nodding your head impatiently. “i hate when they eye fuck you when i’m around. fuck them, baby. i will fuck you in front of them. i’ll show them who you belong to.” she barks and bites your right shoulder, making you cry out in pain. 

“f-fuck! i’m so close, baby, i’m- fuck! 

“who do you belong to?” amber yells it in such heavy desperation that you immediately answer, both of your coils about to snap in half. 

“you! i belong to ghostface!”

“that’s right-fuck me! fuck- bounce against me!” she prods her hips violently, holding yours with both of her hands, guiding you to meet her in the middle. 

“that’s it, bunny! i’m coming! i’m co- come with me!”

screams and whines leave both your mouths as you reach your highs, your bodies shaking as you do so. amber chuckles as your ass automatically presses back against her front when she falls on top of you, her exhausted legs weakening.

“oh, what a good bunny!” she exhales, pushing a strand of hair in the back of your neck, kissing your flushed cheek. you hum feeling her lips’ soft caress, “you did great too,” mumbling.

“i was?” amber’s brown eyes sparkle at the praise, “yes you were. so…so good for me,” helping you turn your body to face her. “be careful,” she says, guiding you to sit on top of the toilet cover. she sits on the floor in front of you, her ghostface mask lying on top of the sink. 

“so rough and so perfect at it,” you compliment teasingly, your energy on the low. you bend down, taking her chin to plant a kiss on her saccharine lips. “i love my jealous freak.”

amber hums, returning the kiss, moving her mouth into you steadily with no rush. “mmm, of course you do,”

you both giggle and pull away, deciding to take a five-minute break before going out of the bathroom to get refreshments and eventually party like you were supposed to. 

“are you not going to fix your makeup, bunny?” amber asks, looking at you with admiration in her eyes. her ghostface mask wraps tightly around her fingers, draped low to be put on. you shake your head, a grin forming your freshly coated lips. 

“and ruin your work? no thanks,” you kiss her on the lips for a brief moment and pull away, fixing your bunny ears for the last time. “let them know who owns me.”

amber liked that very much. 

when you finally casted yourselves out of the bathroom, a soft smile coated your dirty face whilst amber held her cocky smirk, her arm wrapped possessively around your waist, the other holding the leash tied around your collar. you were glued to each other the whole night, letting everyone know who you belong to. and of course, what you both did in the bathroom. 

#amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x you #scream v #scream x reader #scream 5 #scream smut #amber freeman smut

[mysingularitybts]

Put Your Records On

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Yoongi x Human! F. Reader (you)

Genre: smut, fluff, strangers 2 lovers, hybrid!au, 18+

Appearances: Bunny!Jungkook, Fox!Jin, Human!Hoseok, Panther! Taehyung, Human! Jimin, Wolf! Namjoon

Word Count: ~30k

Warnings/tags: hybryd au! (there will be mentions of scenting, heats, and that sort of thing) let's start light with cursing, oral (f, m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, light biting, breeding, fingering, m. masturbation, light voyeurism, oral (m2m), cum play, there's probably some other stuff i missed or simply refuse typing out here lol

a/n: this was supposed to be a small thing and then it evolved into what it is today (half plot half porn). i knew i was obsessed with kitty yoongi i just never realized i was this obsessed. this oneshot made me write things i never thought id write, it pushed me to my limits but I'm pretty proud of it. i hope you guys like it... there is so much smut also grammarly is a pain in my ass

○●○●○●○●○●

Like every morning for the past seven years, Yoongi walks to work with hands in his pockets and earbuds in his ears. The music blasting out of them does nothing to dampen the city noise as the extra pair of ears at the top of his head catches them. One of the downsides of being a hybrid, a cat one, to be precise.

Like every morning, he stops in front of a tall, glass-lined building that glimmers under the rising sun, and as always, he curses it out in his head (or under his breath) for ruining his dream. The same one that began when he first learned the purpose of the building. To become a music producer. He scowls at it for a whole minute before continuing to his destination. A minute a day is all the time he allows himself to rain on his parade.

He proceeds to walk to the small music shop tucked between a coffee shop and a comic book store. He unlocks the door fitfully, having to jiggle the keys expertly. There’s no chance of anyone stealing from the store when he can barely open the door himself. Turning on the stereo with the music of a new upcoming artist, he organizes anything he might’ve left out of place the night before and cleans the counters.

It’s become a routine for Yoongi to wake up, scowl at the glass building, go to work, endure people’s discrimination towards hybrids, close the store, go home, and go to sleep. He’s gotten so used to the repetition that when he has free time on Sundays, he feels at a loss on what to do. He’s tried opening the store those days, but then Lee, the closest thing to a father figure he has, would just get mad at him for not resting.

It’s not unusual for him to get new customers. Still, they are always the same sort of people, music students or hipsters who want to try and be cool with their indie music. Today though, he feels something change when a blue-haired girl walks into the store for the first time. The bell jingles at the top of the door as you walk in, looking around the store before beelining to the aisle labeled ‘vinyl.’ Yoongi follows you with his eyes as his tail swishes behind him in curiosity.

You’d heard of this store from a co-worker and thought it would be the perfect place to find a gift for your brother, who’s recently started a vinyl collection. You rummage through the bins trying to find anything he might like but what you see is barely anything you’ve heard of before.

Yoongi stares at you without approaching you; he usually lets the customer decide if they need help. He’s lost count of how many times people have told him they don’t need the help of a hybrid. But as you move into the third bin of vinyl out of the few dozen in the store, he decides to make a move, or you’ll be here for hours.

“What are you looking for?” he asks straight to the point.

You look up, startled, not having heard him approach you. You can’t help but stare, not because he’s a hybrid but because he must be one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen in your life. Yoongi doesn’t take it that way, as he believes you’re judging him for what he is. Instantly his cat ears pin back, and his eyes narrow.

“Well?” He prompts rudely.

“Sorry, um…Yoongi.” You say, squinting to read his name tag, “I’m looking for a vinyl for my brother as a birthday gift.” You look at him nervously as you feel him judge your entire being, wishing you had worn more makeup today and not stained your sweater during lunch.

“Anything in specific you’re searching for? What is his music taste?” Yoongi asks, bored.

“He likes electro-pop.”

Yoongi nods and directs you further down the aisle, he organized the bins himself, and you were looking in all the wrong places. You should've noticed the signs hanging above the bins designating the music genre.

“You were searching in the jazz area. This is electro-pop,” Yoongi points out.

Blushing at your stupidity, you thank him and continue to search for a good artist your brother will like. Yoongi hums in acknowledgment and makes his way back to the cash register, waiting for you to finish and ringing out other customers.

As you shift through the albums, you look up occasionally to look at the hybrid called Yoongi. He sits on a wooden stool, staring out the window. The sun hits his pale face, making him look ethereal. If she was braver, she’d ask him out, but she knows there’s no way he’d like her back. He certainly didn’t show it when he helped her.

Finally, seeing more artists you recognize, you settle on two vinyls for your gift. You walk around the store seeing as it’s your first time in it, and you stop to look at accessories for production closer to the counter. Your eyes roam the equipment, and your hand urges you to touch it. You hold back because you don’t need anything right now. Wanting and needing are two different things you need to be conscious about.

Carefully placing the vinyls on the counter, you wait for Yoongi to ring the items up. He barely looks at you as he tells you the total. That’s okay, though, as it allows you to stare at him more discreetly; you are in awe of this man with his glossy dark hair and pink pout. How could you have formed a crush on a man who has only spoken five words to you?

Yoongi looks up at the lack of response, only to find you staring at him. He frowns deeply, disturbed by the situation. Her staring differs from the people who point at his ears or make off-hand comments, yet he can’t point out why.

“Hello?” He snaps to call her attention.

“Sorry,” you flinch, a blush covering your cheeks, contrasting the blue in your hair.

“Hope you’re brother likes them,” Yoongi tells her, putting both records in a bag.

“Thanks, me too,” you stutter out with a smile.

You promptly pay and leave the store. Outside you slap yourself on the forehead for being so awkward in the presence of Yoongi. Caught up reprimanding yourself, you fail to notice Yoongi staring at you from the window with a quirk on his lips.

Yoongi thinks you’re a little odd but pays you no mind. He believed you’d be more confident with hair like yours, in reality, you’re a little ditsy. It’s cute. You smelled good, too, not that he meant to smell you, but it’s hard not to with his heightened sense of smell. You smelled like chocolates and something florally yet not overwhelming.

To a hybrid, scents are everything they can tell a lot about a person, although sometimes they can be misled. Their smells can sense a person’s mood and overall persona. A handy thing to have when dealing with people who constantly discriminate against hybrids. Times might have changed, and hybrids might have their freedom now, but it can’t erase years of slavery and mistreatment.

○●○●○●○●○●

You keep returning to the store for the next month just to see Yoongi. You didn't know it back then, but now you know he's the only one that works in the store. At first, you would buy little things to have excuses to go there, then you started to leave empty-handed happy to have seen your 'kitty cat' as you've nicknamed him in your head. At around the third week of returning, he asked for your name. You stuttered it out as his response surprised you.

"That name doesn't suit you," he said, staring at you fixedly, "I'll just call you Blue."

"Very creative, Yoongi," you laugh, rolling your eyes.

And while Yoongi is unemotional, most of the time, you've been learning how to read him. A flick of his cat ears, the swishing of his tail, the way his nose scrunches up unbeknownst to him, or the way his mouth quirks up at the side. It all means different things, and you're starting to catch up, so when he sighs, shaking his head at your words, you know he's amused.

Yoongi has gotten used to seeing you every week. Unlike many of his customers, he'd greet you with a 'good morning' and send you off with a 'careful on the way home.' When you don't come to the store in more than a week, he finds himself worried, and as another week ends with no signs of you, he becomes slightly upset. Maybe he did something to upset you. He wants to know if you are okay or if there is anything wrong, but he comes up empty-handed.

He spends his Sunday sulking in his apartment. When he visits Lee, the old man notices instantly. He is delighted Yoongi is like this over a girl. He's been waiting too long for his boy to open up and get a girlfriend. Yoongi shuts it down almost instantly and clears up that you're only a customer. A friendly customer…

Monday morning bright and early, the bell of the shop jingles, and your scent wafts to Yoongi's nose, who is in the back getting more stock. He leaves the boxes behind as he rushes to the front. "Morning, Yoongi," you greet him with a bright smile.

"You didn't come last week, Blue," Yoongi frowns, his pout very apparent and his ears twitching in annoyance, "I was worried."

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologize," I was out of town."

You hate to admit that you are happy he noticed your absence. Yoongi considers you a friend! Now you have to fulfill the promise you made to yourself. This is the perfect opportunity to ask him out. If he was worried about you, it meant he cared! If only a little.

"How about I make it up to you?" You ask slowly, looking up at him with hope in your eyes. For an extra measure, you use the advice of a friend and put your hair behind your ear to seem cuter.

"And how are you going to do that?" He asks stoically, crossing his arms.

"Let me take you out to this coffee shop on Sunday. They have local artists playing music. And before you say no because of the shop, I know it's your day off," You rush through your words before he rejects the idea.

Yoongi is surprised at your idea of making it up to him, and it shows on his face. He's unsure of what to say but gauging the fact he spent his Sunday worrying over nothing, he accepts. "Alright, you're paying, though."

"Yeah, of course!" You say excitedly, which gets Yoongi smiling.

Despite seeing each other for many weeks, you hadn't had a reason to exchange numbers until now. He writes his phone number on your phone, and you can't resist having his contact as 'Kitty Cat,' not that he notices. If he did, you were sure he would be dramatic about it. Opening the camera app, you tell him to smile, it takes a few tries, but eventually, he settles and shoots the camera a half smile.

Yoongi does the same with you. After writing down your number, he assigns the contact as 'Blue' and snaps a picture of you. Only he didn't ask you to smile; he only called your name and snapped it. You beg him to change it, but he laughs and shoots down the idea. The picture he took got your essence to a tee. While you thought it was atrocious, he thought you looked cute with the wide-eyed stare and everlasting smile on your face. Your messy baby hairs and fluffy sweater only added to your charm.

That Sunday, Yoongi waits for you by the train station. He bites his nails as he waits, a nervous habit he can never get rid of. After accepting going out with you, he began wondering if this was a date. You never specified what it was for you. Yoongi has noticed your stares and how you hang on to every word he says. He also might've heard you speaking about him on the phone outside the store about how cute he was and how he made you giddy.

He's never really been in a relationship, and he's not sure he wants one, either. It's not like he's never been attracted to someone or had his flings, but they've all been with other hybrids, not a full human. He believes he knows you and you have the best intentions, but he's guarded. In the past, he's dealt with humans that are great at first until their true colors show, and they turn into the worst. It's hard getting over his trauma.

With lots of second thoughts, Yoongi is about to bolt from the train station. His fight or flight kicked in over the whole situation. It's one thing to see you around the store, but everything will change once he breaks the barrier and starts seeing you outside of it.

It's too late as you spot him in the train station and wave at him. "Hey, Yoongi!" You chirp, giving him a hug in greeting.

"Are you okay?" You place a hand on his shoulder. You noticed when you were nearing him that he was tense and fidgety. His tail is flat against his body, unlike how it usually swishes around him. Maybe he's not feeling up to the plans for today.

"All good, lead the way!" He responds with a nod and a small smile.

Yoongi is uncomfortable as you walk side by side on the sidewalk. The coffee shop is on the other side of town, in a nicer part of town, to be exact. As a teenager, he never had a great experience in these places where people with money think they can ask for anything with the right amount of money from a poor homeless hybrid. The sad part is sometimes he was so desperate that he agreed to their requests. He's not proud, but he did what he had to survive, and now he's in a better place.

The coffee place barely resembles a coffee place. Inside are tables gathered around a small stage; where the coffee usually sits, there is alcohol instead. When Yoongi points it out, you mention that it's a fully functioning coffee place during the day, and at night it shifts to a speakeasy.

"Where would you like to sit?" You ask Yoongi sweetly, thinking about the speakers that might bother him if you sit too close.

"Over here is okay," Yoongi says, leading you to a table near the back.

You notice the speakers don't point directly at the table. You're proud of yourself for thinking about his heightened sense of hearing. There is silence when you sit at the table. Internally, you're banging your head against the table for not thinking of something to talk about ahead of time. You want to talk to him and get to know him. How do you start, though?

Yoongi, on the other hand, is perfectly happy in the silence. He's never felt the need to make unnecessary conversations. After inspecting the room, he looks at you. You look beautiful today. Your blue hair is nicely curled, with little strands framing your face. You're wearing a fluffy blue sweater that fades into white and pink that begs him to touch it and a black mini skirt. Overall, very cute. He tried to say it while you walked to the coffee shop, but his mouth didn't cooperate, leading him down a different route.

There was a question burning his tongue. A matter of what situation they are in right now. It all started as a way to make it up to him, but he can't help but feel there's more to it. Although he thought of running before, he's concluded that a date would be okay. He's in control of his life now, and if he wants something to stop, he can say it.

"Blue?" He breaks the silence; you had been looking at the stage where the first performer was setting up.

"Yes?" You smile at him gently, waiting for his question. He loved that about you, just how patient and soft you are.

"What is this?" he asks, pointing his finger between the two of you. Upon noticing your confusion, he adds, "Is this a date or just an outing of two friends?"

Your cheeks instantly flare up. Maybe you hadn't made it as obvious as you thought, "I was hoping this would be a date."

Yoongi nods at your words and gives you a small smile, "I was too."

A waiter eventually approaches the table, taking both of your drink orders. A casual conversation then erupts between the two of you. You learn that he's been working at the store for nearly ten years. In exchange, you talk about one of your hobbies, photography.

"I never asked but did your brother like the vinyl?" Yoongi wonders, taking a sip of his whiskey.

"He loved them. Turns out I know his taste pretty well," you giggle, remembering your brother's excitement over the records. He had all but jumped into your arms in a big hug. "He mentioned visiting the store one of these days to get more."

"Does he live around the area?"

"Yes! He's currently in the university nearby," You chirp, mixing your cocktail. Your foundation may hide most of your imperfections, but it can't hide the flush of the alcohol.

"Good for him," Yoongi replies in surprise. That's one expensive and prestigious university. It makes him wonder about your family and what they do; he refrains. That's a subject for another day.

Yoongi had misjudged the coffee shop earlier. He thought the performers would be pretentious people who thought they knew about music. He'd also thought they would all be humans. But as the performers go on, he notices most of them are hybrids, and the people at the tables around them are too. "How did you find this place?"

"One of my friends works here, and the other will perform later."

Jung Hoseok is one of your great friends. You two used to work together until he decided he needed a break from everything some months ago. Next thing you know, he's managing a coffee shop and hosting music shows.

"Actually, I think I see him now," you say, waving your hand delicately toward Hoseok. Yoongi looks in his direction and sees a handsome man with a bright smile. It makes him insecure.

"I'm so glad you're here, sweetheart," Hoseok exclaims, approaching the table and leaning down to hug you, "Who is this?" He asks with a twinkle in his eyes. Hoseok had already heard everything about the cute, brooding hybrid cat.

"This is, Yoongi, my date," you say, "Yoongi, this is Hoseok, the friend I just told you about."

"Nice to meet you." Yoongi shakes the man's hand firmly.

"Don't forget about me," a deep voice says from behind Hoseok.

If Yoongi thought Hoseok was handsome, he is at a loss for words to describe the man or, rather, the hybrid that pops up beside him. The panther hybrid swoops in to hug you, too, whispering in your ear how gorgeous you look. It angers Yoongi that he couldn't say it beforehand because it means he is not the reason for the blooming blush that covered most of your face and neck.

"This is Taehyung," Hoseok introduces the panther hybrid, "Tae, this is her date, Yoongi."

Hoseok and Taehyung try very hard to hide their curiosity and glee. They've wanted to meet Yoongi for weeks, so they were ecstatic when you told them you'd bring him around. They were spying on you from the back, where Taehyung was using his heightened hearing to translate your conversation.

"You're going to perform tonight?" Yoongi asks the panther.

"It's my first time. I'm a little nervous," Taehyung responds, fidgeting with his hands.

"You'll be okay; you've practiced so much," You reassure him, reaching for his hand.

"Thanks, honey," Tae smiles at you.

"We'll leave you two to your date. I gotta go present the next performer," Hoseok says, pulling Tae away from the table, whispering in his ear to tone it down before he scares Yoongi away.

Yoongi finds them both pleasant, even if Taehyung is touchy with you. It's like there was something between the two of you. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, though, so he ignores it for now.

As another performer finishes, you stand from the table, "I need to speak to Hoseok for a moment. Is that okay?"

"Of course."

His eyes follow you discreetly, watching as you speak to Hoseok. It appears as if the conversation is serious as Hoseok's smile drops. Yoongi focuses as much as he can on listening to the conversation, but it's hard when the new singer on the stage picks up the ante and strums the guitar louder. He can make out your lips as you say 'please,' but Hoseok only shakes his head no and says what Yoongi believes is an apology.

When you return, you smile at him as if nothing has happened. The rest of the show plays out. You pay as promised and head out into the cold night. Yoongi wants to bring up your conversation with Hoseok, but that's not his place. Besides, it seemed like it troubled you, and he didn't want to ruin the night.

"Did you like the show?"

"It was great; truth be told, I wasn't expecting to see as many hybrids," Yoongi confesses, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

"The owner is very pro-hybrid. It's one of the few places around here that are like that. I thought you'd like it, considering you always have the little stand on your counter." You refer to the local artists' tapes he keeps on the checkout counter; every week, he has a new one on display. You're unsure where he finds them, but you appreciate it as it helps you find new artists.

"I did, thank you," Yoongi smiles down at you and notices how you rub your hands together to warm them up. "Are you cold?" He doesn't wait for your answer as he takes your hands in his to warm them.

"How are you so warm?" You giggle.

"It's a hybrid thing," he mutters, a bit embarrassed. He's always been insecure about the things that make him a hybrid.

"I wish I was always that warm. My hands are always cold," you cutely pout.

Feeling brave, Yoongi says, "I can keep them warm."

You nod appreciatively, afraid of your voice betraying you. You walk the rest of the way hand in hand, and when you arrive at your departing point, you kiss his cheek. "For an amazing night."

"Will I see you at the store?" He asks shyly.

"Definitely."

○●○●○●○●○●

Time with Yoongi goes by so quickly. As promised, you return to the store, and Yoongi invites you out on another date in exchange. Your relationship progressed as the leaves began changing color. You didn't visit the store as much anymore as you visited each other's home. You were no longer the cute ditsy customer but the girlfriend.

You're so lucky to have Yoongi; he's much more than the grumpy cat you met. He's funny and extremely affectionate (in private, of course). It took you by surprise the first time he lay in your lap and asked you to touch his ears. You know it's a big no-no to touch a stranger's animal ears, but then again, you were no longer strangers. As you had your internal debate, Yoongi lay there with eyes closed, waiting for you. Silently praying you wouldn't be put off by it, his doubt was put to rest when you began softly stroking his pointy cat ears.

"Finally," he muttered, sinking further into your lap.

"Have you ever heard the saying good things come to those who wait?" You sass at him. Yoongi instantly relaxes, releasing a sigh of pleasure. You're weak for him, though, as your fingers brush through his hair and rub the base of his ears. He doesn't answer your question; instead, he falls asleep on you.

You're not sure if it's a Yoongi or a cat thing, but he loves his naps. Nine times out of ten, whether you're at his apartment or yours, Yoongi will nap for a few minutes, more if you're rubbing his ears. A trait you know comes from his cat side is looking for a spot in the house where the sun hits just right. You first noticed it at the store, and you thought it was because that's where the cash register is. Then you learned he moved the register closer to the big window to sunbathe. In fact, his apartment is set up in a way where his couch is mainly illuminated by the sun.

Something that is definitely a hybrid thing is scenting. You often caught Yoongi touching you or rubbing his head against your neck, a clear sign of scenting. Another way he does it is by giving you his hoodies or t-shirts. He gets all smug whenever you leave his apartment with his clothes, and whenever you return with his hoodies, and his scent is all faded, he switches them out. He wants to make it known to other hybrids that you are his.

For playing the stoic, serious guy, Yoongi loves kisses. Tiny kisses, pecks on the lips, kisses on the cheek, forehead kisses, full-blown makeout sessions, any type of thing involving kisses, he is there. You're favorite thing, though, is making him purr while you kiss.

In the past, you learned that some cat hybrids can purr and others don't, genetic differences between them or whatever. One day you were straddling his lap in a heated makeout session (one he started) and discovered he's one of the ones that purr.

Startled, you pull back with swollen lips, "What was that?"

"Nothing," Yoongi says, trying to pull you back by the back of your neck into another kiss.

"Was that a purr, Yoongi?" You insist with a teasing smile on your lips.

Yoongi, embarrassed, denies it. Furrowing his eyebrows with a pout, he mumbles, "Don't be ridiculous."

You smile at him and kiss him hard, grinding against him, "Do it again."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Yoongi moans, guiding your hips over his lap.

"Do. It. Again," you say in between kisses, "It felt amazing."

"It did?" Yoongi asks with a vulnerable look. He's always been somewhat embarrassed by his cat tendencies because he has had to hide them for many years. In his head, the more human he is, the better. It gives people less ammo when they decide to be rude.

"Mhm," you nod, swiping his lipstick-stained lips with your thumb. "Honestly, it's a turn-on," you whisper in his ear.

"You'll have to figure it out then 'cause I'm not telling you," Yoongi drawls, squeezing your hips.

"Let's get to it, then," You say seductively, kissing him again.

It takes you no more than ten minutes to figure out it's all in the hair. Whenever you pull the hair on the back of his neck, Yoongi purrs like there's no tomorrow. Minutes later, you make another discovery. The purrs are especially good when he's going down on you.

"Fuck, Yoongi," you moan, gripping his hair in your fist. It's a double-edged sword you have; you pull his hair due to the overwhelming pleasure, but it makes him purr even more.

There's no way for you to close your legs as Yoongi is settled right between them. He holds tightly to your thighs with one hand as he flicks your clit with his tongue and works two fingers into you. Neither of you is sure how you got into this position, but there are no complaints.

"I'm not sure if you want me to stop or not," Yoongi teases you with a smirk, leaving kisses over one of your thighs, although his fingers continue their assault. The sound of your wetness, along with your moans, resonates through the room.

"Don't even think about it, kitty cat," you respond, propping up on your elbows. Your head tilts back with a loud moan when Yoongi rubs against that spot.

Yoongi glares at the nickname and bites just where he kissed you. He detests the nickname, so he gets testy whenever you call him that. You whine at the momentary pain, but it turns you on even more.

"Forgot you were a pain slut," Yoongi says with all the intent in the world. He hates being called 'kitty cat,' and you hate the term 'pain slut.' Now you're even.

You glare, pushing him away and shuddering as his fingers leave you empty. Your skirt falls back into place as you sit back on the couch with a pout that's supposed to make you look angry. Yoongi holds back a laugh, knowing you love being dramatic. He moves into a sitting position and grabs your hand, pulling you into his lap, where you can perfectly feel his hard-on over his sweats. His sticky fingers are on your side, playfully squeezing you.

"Don't be so pissy. You know I'm joking," Yoongi chuckles, kissing your shoulder. His hands trail over your body, squeezing your clothed chest before delving between your thighs, but you remain emotionless.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" Yoongi jokes, kissing the point in your neck that makes you ticklish.

"That's not funny," you scoff, trying to hide the smile dying to come out.

"You're right, it's not," Yoongi agrees, "I'm sorry, Blue." He props his head on your shoulder with a pout, despite your messy blue hair tickling his face.

"I'm sorry too," you say rather unwillingly, turning to him.

"That's my girl," Yoongi smiles, gripping your chin to kiss you.

You squeal when he stands up, taking you to the bedroom to finish what he started.

○●○●○●○●○●

One fall afternoon, you bring Yoongi lunch to the store. He received a big batch of inventory and missed his lunch hour. Your hours at work are flexible, so you stop by one of the restaurants near the store and pick up his favorite.

"Yoongs, I'm here," you call out, not seeing him by the register.

"Back here, Blue!" You only see his hand waving from behind a pile of boxes. You leave the food at the counter and go around the boxes to see him sitting on a small stool organizing the new batch of CDs.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss his cheek. "Come eat before it gets cold."

"One second," he mutters, stacking the CDs in a neat pile before he stands.

"Hi," he smiles at you pecking your waiting lips. You walk back to the front of the store with his hand in yours.

You and Yoongi keep a pleasant conversation going as he eats and checks out customers simultaneously. Some clients come with questions you're more than happy to take care of. All the time you've spent at the store paying off. When he's finished and the store is empty of customers, he pulls you between his legs. Instantly, you know what he wants. It's his favorite thing in the world.

"Don't act so cocky," he murmurs against your lips.

"You're too cute." Your giggle is cut short by a kiss. Yoongi moves his lips expertly against yours, stealing your breath away. His arms keep you close to him, you also feel his tail by your side as if trying to curl around you.

A moan is heard through the empty store when Yoongi nips at your bottom lip. He smiles into the kiss, proud of himself. You're so reactive to his touch. He doesn't have to do much to get you like putty on his hands.

One of his palms sneaks under your shirt, meeting with the band of your bra. Yoongi's thumb brushes over the cup, teasing at how close he is. In turn, you find yourself palming him over his jeans. He's not fully hard, holding back if anyone walks into the store.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Yoongi tells you, kissing up and down your neck.

"We can flip that sign around and go to the back room," you pant as Yoongi leaves open-mouthed kisses against your jaw.

Yoongi is about to agree when the bell at the top of the door jingles obnoxiously. Jumping apart, you keep your distance. It's an older woman who barely spares a glance towards the two of you. She continues on her way, searching for whatever. 

You pout at Yoongi, who only shrugs, pecking your cheek. The woman then appears with an old cassette of an even older artist. Yoongi had those in the back of the store with a few cassette players. He says it's for the old music teachers who reject the artists of this generation. It's a business, and he needs something for everyone.

He rings her out and hands her the paper bag. The old woman looks between the two of you with an indignant look. "Honey, you can do so much better." She says with a frail voice filled with audacity.

Yoongi tenses beside you and is about to say something to the lady when you stop him, "What are you trying to say?" You ask in a daring tone. You need to know if this woman has the guts to voice her thoughts.

"That you can do so much better than a filthy hybrid. They are beneath us, just like any other animal would be. Why don't you find yourself a nice human boy to settle with?" She states as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Yoongi sags at the woman's words. He's fine being humiliated alone but not in front of you. It's just a reality check that your situation is just a thing in passing. You'll never truly like him or see him as your equal.

"First of all, lady, I don't need a man or a hybrid to settle or take care of me. I can do that perfectly fine. Second, this man you want to say is beneath me is the most kindhearted, loving, hard-working man I've ever met. Not to mention he's the hottest too. Now take your old ass cassette and never come back." You don't scream or raise your voice. You talk in a steady dangerous tone, and by the end, you are leaning against the counter, facing the woman. 

She looks at you as if you've cursed her whole family. The moment you finish talking, she almost runs out of the store. Clearly, she hadn't expected that reaction. She probably wanted to rile Yoongi up to try and prove some stupid point she thinks she has about hybrids.

Turning to Yoongi, he's staring at you with a lustful look, "You really think that?"

"I do," you say, giving him the reassurance he desperately needs.

Yoongi steps around you, reaching for the sign on the door and turning it around to 'closed.' He grabs your hand when he returns, pulling you to the backroom. You barely get there when he pushes you against the door, kissing you feverishly. The way you stood up to the woman and defended him got Yoongi fired up.

"I fucking adore you," he gruffs before smashing his lips on yours. 

He kisses you bruisingly hard, pouring all of his feelings into it. You reciprocate his eagerness, folding your arms around his neck. You didn't realize that defending Yoongi almost made him say those three little words. He's conscious it's far too soon for that, and maybe the heat of the moment made him think of them. Still, he needs to get the 'I love you' out of his system somehow, and what better way than fucking you in his back room. 

"All this because I spoke up?" You giggle between kisses though it's interrupted by Yoongi sneaking his tongue into your mouth. 

Yoongi is in a frenzy, squeezing any part of your body he can reach; your thighs, your ass, your arms, your back, your chest. He needs to feel you close, closer than ever before. With each touch, you moan into his mouth. If he didn't love kissing you so much, he'd allow himself to listen to them. 

When you and Yoongi have sex, you always get on your knees first. You enjoy watching him struggle and get all flustered. His fingers knotting in your hair to get what he wants, making him believe he's the one in control. What can you say other than you find pleasure in giving him head? 

It works out because as giving as Yoongi is behind closed doors, he's a selfish lover. He is quick to take what he wants from you; your hands, your breasts, your mouth, your cunt. You get pleasure along the way, he draws orgasm after orgasm from you, but it's all a ruse as he gets the most out of it. Whether it's your taste, your touch, or your mellifluous voice chanting his name. You make him feel victorious. 

Today though, the roles are reversed as Yoongi breaks the kiss and drops to his knees. It's all about you at this moment; you've given him enough pleasure by defending him. You're lost in the moment; you don't question Yoongi's behavior. For you, this was just another horny adventure between the two of you. 

The kneeling cat hybrid bunches the skirt up to your hips and pulls your panties down your legs in one swift movement. His actions are firm yet careful. Decided. He hasn't even touched you, and yet you're breathing heavily. Yoongi leaves wet kisses from your stomach down to your mound. Grabbing your leg, he props it over his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your center. 

It's no secret you are wet. You have been from the moment Yoongi teased you earlier. Your body is somehow always ready for him. It doesn't help that you found everything he does sexy. Your breath hitches when his tongue licks a stripe from your opening to your clit, brushing over it with precise pressure. 

Your fist finds its place in his hair, right between his cat ears. You buck your hips with each lick and suck, Yoongi's name falling from your lips. He only keeps his eyes trained on your flushed face and swollen lips. His grip on your thighs keeps you grounded as they clench each time you close your eyes for too long. Yoongi needs you to see him worshiping you on his knees. 

It's a vicious pattern that Yoongi sticks to. Flicking your clit, fucking you with his tongue, nipping your thighs. It's enough and too much all at once. You'd be on the floor if it wasn't for the wall behind you.  

Yoongi's feline-like eyes indicate he is enjoying this as they reflect his playfulness. Your heel digging into his back and your thighs tightening around him betray you, giving it away that you're close. Not like you were hiding it as curses left your lips. 

Keeping a steady rhythm, he brings you to the edge and over the cliff. A selfless act 'cause if it were up to him, he'd edge you until you were begging and weeping. Your juices drip like a stream, and he acts like a man who spent the last year in the desert. Not a drop goes to waste. 

Only when you lightly nudge him back does Yoongi stand from the floor. His grip on you does not ease as he stabilizes your swaying form. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you're weak in the knees. 

"Fucking delicious," Yoongi purrs as he shares your taste with a kiss. Fear overtakes him at the thought of never savoring you again. There's no one as addicting as you, so sweet and intoxicating. 

You grab onto his shirt, tilting your head to kiss him deeply. It's then that you feel his hard cock pressing against you. Poor kitty is being so good to you. Usually, he would've complained by now.  

Yoongi breathes into your ear as if on cue, "I need you, Blue."  

"You have me, Yoongi," you reassure him, pulling his clothes, desperate to get them off. 

You unbuckle Yoongi's belt and pop the button off his pants, digging your hand underneath to grip his cock. He is warm and heavy on your palm. Yoongi releases a throaty moan as you pump his cock, squeezing him lightly. 

You kiss the column of his throat as he throws his head back in pleasure. Releasing him momentarily, you take off your sweater, making you hot and sweaty. Running out of patience, Yoongi pulls the cups of your bra down. 

He turns you around by grabbing you by the shoulders. You brace your hands against the wall. From behind, Yoongi fondles your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples. He pecks your naked shoulder, biting when he ruts against your ass. 

"I can't hold it anymore," Yoongi groans.

"Fuck me, Yoongi," you whine, arching your back and lifting up your skirt. 

Yoongi spreads one of his hands on your upper back, forcing you to lean forward. With the other, he grabs his member, teasing you with the tip. Your arousal coats him instantly, and with one swift thrust, he forces his cock into you. 

Both of you moan in unison. The pace is slow at first until Yoongi starts thrusting faster and harder. His grip is tight around your waist; you wouldn't be surprised to find marks there later. You remove one of the hands from the wall to find Yoongi's. He holds it against your waist, squeezing it every so often. His groans are like music to your ears. The way his voice gets deeper and raspy, you could cum just by hearing him speak. 

Your walls feel so good around him. You'd tighten around him every so often; it would make him falter. The more you tense around him, the closer he gets. He pulls your back to him, so you're pressed against him. Yoongi buries his head on your neck, breathing in your sweet scent and a hand between your legs. He clumsily rubs your clit, making you climax in no time. It's perfect as the waves of pleasure push him to spill into your warm pussy. 

There's a moment where you both stay in that same position, catching your breath. Yoongi is inside you, his head on your neck, arms wrapped around your stomach. You hold onto him as best as you can with your eyes closed. He's so close to saying, 'I love you,' but fear of rejection stops him. He could live without you knowing but not without you. 

You shudder when he slips out of you. If it were up to him, he'd take you home and do it all over again, but you're expected back at work. Yoongi quickly helps you clean up and find your clothes strewn around the back room. Which is easier said than done. 

"Shit, I have to go," you exclaim after reading a text. 

"What happened?" Yoongi asks, handing you your sweater that had been covering a lamp. 

"I have a meeting in half an hour," you mumble, putting on your sweater. 

You rush out of the music store with a quick look in the mirror and sore legs. Your colleague is waiting for you when you open your office door. When you sit on your chair, you realize something is off. 

You don't have any panties on. Yoongi, that fucking sneaky cat must've kept them. 

    ○●○●○●○●○●

It had been a long week for you, with many deadlines and projects. Yoongi knows how hard you push yourself, so he worries when he calls to see how your day is and doesn't receive the response he usually gets. Something is wrong with you; that's all Yoongi knows. Yoongi changes quickly and gets takeout knowing you probably still need to eat.

He arrives at your apartment in record time, pulling out the key from his pocket to unlock your door. Yoongi has been spending so much time with you, you thought it would be easier if he had a key to your place. A week later, he gave you a key to his place. It was only fair.

He searches the familiar apartment, trying to find you, but you're not there. You're home, though, as your keys hand from the hook and your comforting scent welcomes him. He knocks on your bedroom door, and slowly, he opens the door. You're not on the bed, but that's when he sees the light coming from the bathroom.

"Blue?" He calls out from behind the door.

"I'm here," your quiet voice responds with a sniffle.

He opens the door to find you in the tub, hidden by soap bubbles. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet. The addition of your red nose confirms you've been crying for a while.

"What's wrong, Blue?" Yoongi tenderly asks, kneeling by the tub to be eye to eye.

"Just had a horrible day at work," you sniff, hiding your face with fading blue hair. It's ironic how it matches your mood. "And my damn hormones are making things worse."

"You want to talk about it?"

You shake your head no as tears fill your eyes again. Work has been stressful this past week, with so many deadlines and little inspiration. The more you work, the less motivation you have. You've only been working at the company for 3 years. How will you manage to do it your whole life?

"Want cuddles?" Yoongi asks, brushing your hair out of your face.

Seeing you shake your head, yes, he undresses and gets into the tub with you. The fact you're on your period does nothing to impede him. It's just blood.

He hugs your shoulders and makes you lean against his chest. The water is hot enough to turn his skin pink and make him sweat, but his goal right now is to comfort you.

Yoongi kisses your head and lays his cheek on the top of your head. Feeling another wave of frustration and pain, tears pour out of your eyes. Knowing what you need, Yoongi gently massages your abdomen to ease the painful cramps. It's meant to be an act of both emotional and physical comfort.

"I'm sorry I'm crying over nothing. It's so stupid." Your hand rises from the water to wipe away your tears, yet it stops midway and falls back into the steaming tub of water. It's pointless; more will retake their place.

"It's not stupid, Blue," he whispers in your ear. "What you're feeling is real; the only way you'll feel better is to let it out." Yoongi is familiar with pain. It's like an old friend, always in the back of his mind.

Yoongi's words cause more tears to fall into the bath water. You're sad and angry, and frustrated at everything except for Yoongi. You're happy he's there with you, the highlight of your day. There's no way you're letting him go from your life. The past boyfriends you've had never treated you the way Yoongi does. They were alright. They just didn't pay attention to details.

With the water turning cold Yoongi gets out to heat up dinner. He sets up the table with a candle in the middle. You're a romantic; it'll cheer you up. You shuffle into the kitchen area with the hoodie he left in the bathroom and sweatpants. Yoongi smiles sweetly at you, motioning you over.

He had placed the plates facing each other, but you take yours and put it beside his, scraping the chair over the floor to sit beside him.

"Thank you." You kiss his cheek and begin to eat.

With him being right-handed and you being left-handed, there is no way he can hold your hand while you eat. Still, you feel his tail brushing against your back, providing that comfort.

○●○●○●○●○●

"There he is! The man of the hour!" A blonde man called Jimin yells, seeing Yoongi walk into his apartment.

"I'm surprised he even remembered how to get here," the fox hybrid Jin adds, uncorking a wine bottle.

Those two men are his best and only friends. Yoongi ignores them both, dropping his backpack on the couch. He first met Jin at the supermarket, where a man was throwing off-hand comments, and the hybrid fox stepped in. He acted as if he had known Yoongi all his life and glared at the man, bearing his teeth. The man left, instantly scared that he might get bitten. Jin laughed in pure glee. His fangs might be sharper than humans, but the rest are the same. He loves scaring humans; they are so stupid.

Different from when you defended him, Yoongi was less enthusiastic with Jin. He got into an argument with Jin about how they would get kicked out, what people might think, and a whole dilemma on hybrids' appearances going downhill because of people like Jin. This was 8 years ago when Yoongi was young and much more insecure than he is now. Jin has been the one to help him ease up and accept himself.

Yoongi's still figuring out how Jimin came to be. He was Jin's coworker; the fox had invited him to hang out with him and Yoongi. The rest is history. He's never left them alone since. It took a long time for Yoongi to warm up to him, though he thinks it was part of Jin's therapy to make him more tolerant of humans. Not all of them are bad people.

"You're being exaggerated," Yoongi gruffs, sitting on the kitchen's bar stool.

"Exaggerated? We haven't seen you in nearly two months," Jin scolds him. His voice is reprimanding, but his body movements are smooth and controlled as he places a wine glass in front of Yoongi.

"What has you so busy, Yoongi?" Jimin curiously asks. He takes a swing of the wine glass, grimacing at the dryness of it. He's always preferred white wine.

"Nothing, I wanted some distance from you two always annoying me," Yoongi jests, ignoring their complaints.

"Or counteroffer he has a girlfriend," Jin then says knowingly, "That usually gets people busy." Yoongi's silence confirms his suspicions. Jin's tail puffs up in victory.

"Pay up, Jiminie!"

"Fuck," Jimin whines, patting his pockets and pretending to look for his wallet, "I left my wallet in the car."

Jin rolls his eyes at the lies. It's okay because he knew Yoongi had a girlfriend before they made a bet. Last week, he had walked by the store to see Yoongi and saw the two of you all chummy. Jin hovered outside for a minute, debating whether he should make himself known. Ultimately, he chose against it knowing Yoongi likes his privacy, especially regarding his love life.

"You were betting on me?" Yoongi exclaims in outrage. They're always betting on silly things. This is the first time they bet on their best friend. Their gambling problem is officially a problem.

"Don't ask stupid questions. Of course, we were," Jin laughs, his black pointy ears flat on his head.

"So the girlfriend? Is she hot? Have you played cat and mouse?" Jimin asks. Yoongi instantly kicks him under the table.

In the 6 years of being friends, Jimin has only witnessed one person leaving Yoongi's apartment, which was a sexy mouse hybrid. That day he also learned that Yoongi plays both ways. Ever since, he teases Yoongi by calling sex 'playing cat and mouse.'

"This was too good to be true," Yoongi huffs. This is why Jin invited them to a dinner he would cook.

Jin refuses to cook outside of his job. He's a chef at a Michelin-star restaurant, and when he's at home, he'll eat frozen dinners or takeout. A paradox of sorts, really. While Jin enjoys cooking, it also feels like a chore, so he won't do it at home. Part of it is his ego; he wants the praise that comes with being an incredible chef.

When Yoongi received the text from Jimin that Jin was cooking he almost ran to Jin's place. A free gourmet dinner? Sign him up. Despite being misled Yoongi stays. He can entertain Jimin and Jin for a few hours. There's food being prepared and multiple bottles of wine on the kitchen counter.

One glass of wine in, and he tells them the bare minimum of his relationship. Two drinks in, and he tells them you were the one to ask him on a date.

Jin is so proud to hear she is human, he's done a great job with Yoongi. Part of Jin's plan is to get him tipsy enough to loosen his tongue, which is why he picked one of the dishes that take the longest to cook. Is it wrong? Possibly, but if he doesn't do it, Yoongi will never give any info.

"She's so cute," Yoongi giggles sipping on the fifth glass, "She defended me the other day when some bitch said she deserved better."

"I take it you're happy, Yoongi?" Jimin asks him, head propped up in his hands. He's more than tipsy, getting carried away by the expensive wine Jin bought.

"I thought I was happy as I was, but then she was just there, and I got so excited when she visited the store. She's soft and kind and doesn't complain about all the kisses. She liked when I purred!" Yoongi says as if it's an outrage.

"We like it when you purr, you ungrateful cat!" Jin shouts, waving around the wooden spoon, splatters of food staining the counter.

"No, you guys tease me about it," Yoongi argues.

"That doesn't mean we don't like it!"

They don't get around to eating Jin's delicious food because they are all too drunk to think when it's done. Jin got too carried away with the timing of the food. Jimin tapped out first, disappearing from the kitchen. Jin and Yoongi resisted longer as their hybrid bodies metabolized alcohol slower.

Yoongi, who is usually quiet, can't stop talking about you. Jin, who is a total gossip, is eating up his words. It's a clear indication the pair is wasted. That and the fourth empty bottle of cabernet.

"Jin, I swear she's driving me insane. She's insatiable, and I fucking love it," Yoongi smiles widely. He's lovestruck and way too drunk. You would surely be furious if you heard how he was talking about your relationship.

"Wow, you finally found someone that keeps up with you." Jin is astonished. Yoongi has a high sex drive. When Jin got him to go out clubbing, he would always leave with someone. Hell, there were times when Yoongi would have someone with him during his heats. He had all the contacts.

"God, she has given me the best head of my fucking life, and she loves it too, always on her fucking knees. Look at this."

Yoongi doesn't think as he pulls a Polaroid out of his wallet. Given your hobby of photography, you have many cameras around the apartment. One day, he didn't hesitate to reach out and snap a pic.

It's a picture of you on your knees, Yoongi's cock in your tiny hand, and your blue hair in two braids barely covering your chest. Yoongi's ring-clad hand is holding your cheeks, forcing you to open your mouth to show his white cum in your mouth.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Jin gasps, staring wide-eyed at the photograph. Yoongi is too drunk to realize how bad it is that he's sharing a picture made only for his eyes. Luckily, Jin is too drunk to remember it in the morning.

Laughing loudly, Yoongi stumbles into Jin's living room. The fox is behind him, yelling at him for rubbing in his face his thriving sex life. Jin feels guilty about the tightness in his pants, he can't help it. He has been single for too long and his job keeps him busy leaving no room for one-night stands. The only release is the one his hand provides.

Yoongi trips on Jimin, sleeping on the floor, his chubby cheek squishing onto the carpet. The room is spinning for the cat hybrid; he barely manages to fall on the couch face down, getting knocked out instantly.

The following day Yoongi wakes up with a splitting headache and a kink in his neck. He stumbles into the kitchen to get water and finds a puffy-faced Jin. He has a spoon in his hand as he eats the untouched food from last night straight from the pot.

"I'm a culinary genius," he talks with his mouth full.

Yoongi grabs the spoon Jin offers him and digs in. He moans at how delicious it is, even if it's cold and he's not quite sure what it is. This is what he came for last night.

"How did I let you fool me again?" Yoongi wonders. It's not the first time Jin has done something like this to get him to join them.

Despite their headaches, both hybrids laugh loudly, the older one choking on the food. Yoongi laughs louder, patting him on the back. He loves his two friends; it's just that he loves being on his own, too, and they can be clingy as fuck. He appreciates it when they reach out, though.

Jimin appears in the doorway with an indignant look on his face. "Some of us are trying to sleep. What has the two of you giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls?"

○●○●○●○●○●

"Help."

Yoongi looks up from the sofa seeing you with your hair parted in chunks. There are strands of hair with blue hair dye and others without.

"What are you doing?" He stands, walking over to you to assess the situation.

"I can't reach the back," you say sheepishly. Whenever you dye your hair, you have friends with you to help you out. Hoseok has helped you a bunch of times as he's used to dyeing his hair. Your brother helps out too, seeing as he learned when he was a teenager to help you out.

You thought you could do it today on your own; you were desperate to revive your hair to the bright blue that you love. You were wrong because it got too messy and complicated as soon as you got to the strands in the back.

Yoongi sighs but follows you into the bathroom. He puts on a pair of gloves and, with your instructions, applies the blue hair dye. He'll be here a while; you have long hair and a lot of it. He hopes you have another dye tube because the one on the tray won't be enough.

"You're doing it wrong," you say for the third time since he started.

Yoongi pulls your hair lightly, forcing your head back to look up at him. He glares at you in warning; he's running out of patience. You reciprocate the glare. "Ouch."

"You're the one that needs help. Tone it down," Yoongi sighs angrily, brushing the dye on the top of your head.

"I'm just saying you're not adding enough," you snap, annoyed at Yoongi.

You should've known better than to ask for Yoongi's help; you're too much of a perfectionist. You're friends know you well enough already to handle your perfectionism. Still, it's something Yoongi has yet to see much of and needs to learn.

"No, you are saying it a whole other thing entirely. I'm no expert and doing you a favor, I don't need all the reprimanding." Yoongi argues, looking at you through the bathroom mirror.

"Fine then, leave," you grit, snatching the paintbrush from his hands to try and do it on your own.

Yoongi blows air out of his nose in anger, taking off his gloves on the way out of the apartment. He puts on his jacket and slams the door behind him.

Angrily you finish applying the hair dye. At this point, you don't care if it ends up patchy. That infuriates you more. While you wait to wash your hair, you slam each drawer and door in your apartment.

In the shower, you cool down and think of what you did again. Maybe, you were a little rough and reacted wrong. You didn't mean for it to come out as it did. Hurrying out of the shower, you get dressed in the first thing you find and leave for Yoongi's to apologize to your kitty.

Yoongi is at home staring at the TV. It plays a random action movie he can't bother paying attention to. You completely ruined his peaceful mood. His ears are flat on his back, clearly showing his anger. You had no reason to treat him that way, he always helps you out, comforts you, treats you like a damn queen, and then you repay him by acting like a total bitch.

He knows it's you when he hears the door. If you're here, you're probably going to apologize. He lets you knock a few more times out of sheer spite. When he opens it, he sees you with flowers and wine, and without a word, he lets you in.

You instantly catch that his mood could be better. Fair enough. "I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. I have no excuse for it."

"I'm glad you see it that way because I do every single fucking thing you want, and I don't warrant that type of treatment," he huffs, letting some of his frustration out.

"You don't have to do everything I want," you say passively, avoiding another argument. You leave the gifts on the kitchen counter.

"You don't get it?" Yoongi chuffs in disbelief, crossing his arms.

"Get what?"

"I do all those things because I like you and want to make you happy. When you treat me like I'm stupid, it drives me nuts. I don't deserve that."

"You're right, you don't," you agree instantly, "I understand if you want me to leave."

With your head hung, you reach for the door. You think that's what he means with his words. You think he's tired of you that you pushed him away with your bitch mood. You didn't mean to act that way; it just comes out sometimes, especially when you're PMSing.

"Come back, you idiot," Yoongi sighs.

Yoongi grabs your arm, slamming you against the door and kissing you hotly. How you irritate him drives him crazy, but you're not perfect, and neither is he. He'd rather work through it than let you go.

Your hands go under his oversized t-shirt, your nails dragging down his abdomen. Yoongi hisses in pain and wraps one of his hands against your throat, squeezing lightly.

"Don't ever speak to me like that, understood?" His voice is low and commanding.

You stare at him with wide eyes, feeling a wave of arousal. It's no secret that Yoongi has that effect on you, and it amplifies when he gets controlling like this.

"Say it, Blue." Yoongi repeats, tightening the fingers around your neck.

"I understand, Yoongi," you say seductively.

With his hand still around your neck, he smashes his lips on yours, teeth and tongue included. Your arms go around him, lightly tugging on his black tail, and his hips thrust as soon as you do. It never fails to surprise him. You've learned so much in the short time you've been with him.

Yoongi hoists you up, wrapping your legs around him, letting him carry you to his bedroom. The door slams against the wall as he indelicately drops you in the bed.

"Take off your clothes," he orders, sitting on the bed. He watches you with hard eyes, waiting for you to do as he says. "Today, Blue," he scorns when you take too long for his liking.

You don't know what's gotten into him, but you like it. Starting with your hoodie-the hoodie he left behind- you reveal a pretty white bra with flower details. Your leggings go next, then your bra, and lastly, your panties. Yoongi barely reacts, motioning you to continue with each piece you take off.

"Lay on the bed," he points with his head.

You crawl onto the bed, laying on the fluffy pillows that spill with his cologne. You're expecting him to join you, you couldn't be more wrong.

"Touch yourself," Yoongi nonchalantly speaks, tongue poking at his cheek in annoyance.

"W-What?" It shouldn't be a big deal you've had sex with Yoongi many times before, but this is different. Touching yourself is something you do in private, not under your boyfriend's scrutinizing gaze.

"Touch yourself, Blue. I know you do it. You think I haven't seen the toys you hide?" He mocks you with a mean smirk.

"Yoongi, I-"

"Touch yourself, now, and look at me while you do," he snaps, sending you a glare.

If you were to say no, that would be the end of it. Yoongi wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want. He's confident you'd enjoy this, though…to an extent.

Complying, you begin by massaging your breasts, pulling on your hard nipples just like he does when he touches you. Shyly one hand trails down your stomach, and you open your legs, revealing your pussy that Yoongi happens to love so much. It's not an assumption. He's vocalized it many times. He swears he can cum just by looking at it.

Circling your clit with your fingers, you moan his name, calling him to take you. He ignores you, fixating on your actions. A single digit slides between your folds as it easily enters you. You're soaked. It's never the same as when he does it, not as satisfying.

Yoongi notices the glistening of your juices from the foot of the bed, small wet sounds come from your body, along with your whines for him. Your eyes close in instinct while you chase pleasure.

"Open your eyes." You obey his command, your eyes focusing on his face as he licks his lips. You insert two fingers, pumping them steadily, giving him the show he desires.

"How does it feel?" Yoongi inquires, holding your knees open with his strong hands when they clench at the pleasure you're bringing to yourself. He's kneeling right in front of you, entranced.

"Fucking good," you pant, your hand reaching for the one on your knee.

"Better than when I do it?" He asks, lacing your fingers together.

"No, never," you gasp. Yoongi's fingers know you better than you do yourself. They reach depths you've never explored. They are agile and strong due to his talent on the piano. He would touch you just as he does the keys softly at first, adding force when needed and caressing lightly once the piece's climax is over. Always ready to go again and again until he perfect's it.

"Add another one," Yoongi purrs. You've taken his cock many times now. You're always tight but so ready for him.

You replicate his movements when he touches you, curving your fingers until you find that spot. The squelching sound intensifies when you add that third finger, it's music to Yoongi's ears.

A high-pitched yell from you informs him of all he needs to know, "That's it, you found it, haven't you?"

"Yes," you say in a high-pitched moan, your legs try to clench, but Yoongi's strong hands impede you.

"Stop," he says before you cum, "I said stop, Blue!" he roars when you ignore him. You are so close. His hand grips your wrist, forcing you to stop. You open your eyes, hadn't realized they were closed.

"You never listen. Do you?" Yoongi condescendingly mutters.

"I'm sorry," you say, out of breath, hoping he'll join you to finish you off.

He shakes his head, ignoring your apology, "Go on, Lick your fingers."

Obediently you bring your fingers to your lips, licking them clean as per his orders.

"You taste delicious, don't you?"

"Mhm, but you're better." Your eyes are hopeful he'll have his way with you now.

"Too bad 'cause you're not getting it today," he mocks with a fake pout.

"What?" You ask, bewildered.

"Not after what you did today," he says, dipping one of his fingers between your fold, making you shiver. He brings that same finger to his lips, tasting you.

"Yoongi, I said I was sorry," you argue, sitting up on the bed, begging for him.

"And that changes what?" He cocks an eyebrow at your words.

He grabs your chin and kisses you deeply. You numbly follow along before he pulls away, "Get dressed and come out. There's a new episode of that show you like. Oh, and don't you dare cum."

"I don't get it! I'm here begging for you, and you won't touch me." You're upset, but more than that, you're horny. Yoongi is a drug you can't get enough of, and being denied of him sends you into a frenzy. "Wasn't my apology enough?"

"Blue, I forgave you the moment you got here," Yoongi smiles at you sweetly.

"Then why?" You ask, your shoulders slumping.

"Well, just because I forgave you doesn't mean you don't need a punishment."

"And no sex was the way to go. You could do so much better, Yoongi?" You taunt him, thinking this is the way he'll give you what you want.

"Says the girl who couldn't keep her hands to herself and brought me to her apartment on the second date," Yoongi teases her.

"Are you slut shaming me?" You gasp in disbelief.

"No, I'm just saying when it comes to me, you have no control," he shrugs.

"Please, next time I'm mad at you, we'll see who has no control," you pout, gathering your clothes strewn on the floor.

"Probably you. We know how you get when you're mad," Yoongi winks.

You wanted him, he was decided, though, and a stubborn Yoongi always wins. You get dressed again, only in his hoodie, hoping he changes his mind. He doesn't. He acts as if the fight never happened, cuddles you, and kisses you, but that night he doesn't touch you the way you want, ignoring all your advances.

The following day is a different story as Yoongi fucks you like you want, ravaging your body. Everything he held back the day before he uses to his advantage. You didn't hold back one bit as you begged Yoongi to fuck you harder. The neighbors will surely complain to the landlord about the unholy noises coming from his room.

○●○●○●○●○●

“Ah,” Yoongi’s moans are hidden by the water falling from the shower. He’s right below the shower head, cold water covering his body. The past three months have gone by so quickly that his heat surprised him.

His back leans against the shower wall as he rubs himself under the cold water. His hips thrust into his hand in desperate need. Yoongi whines in discomfort; his peak is too hard to reach alone. He would call you, but he’s not ready yet. He is not in complete control when he’s in heat, Yoongi knows he’ll say things that will throw you off, and it’s not like you’ll even agree to help him in the first place. You love sex, and you love sex with Yoongi, but this is something else entirely.

Yoongi moans as he continues to pump his cock. It feels so good yet so painful at the same time. The more he reaches his climax, the more the pain intensifies. If he had you here, he’d have you against the wall as he fucks you from behind. The thought sends another wave of heat through his body.

In his horny haze, he remembers something he stole from you, a little piece of you. He shuts off the water, not bothering to dry himself. He has the panties he stole from you that day at the shop on his nightstand drawer. They have your scent attached to them. Should be enough to let him cum.

Yoongi lies on his bed, sweat, and water sticking to the bed sheets. He grabs the soft fabric and envelops it in his aching length. Yoongi fists his length, imagining he’s with you, how your hands tighten around his cock, or how you like to choke on it when giving him head. Your tight fucking pussy always feels so good. He always needs to stretch you out with his fingers. His moves quicken; the only noise in the room is his desperate moans calling for you, for his Blue. Reaching his orgasm, he covers your panties with his cum. Momentarily his temperature lowers, and his breathing slows as he catches his breath. The first day is the worst. He just needs to get over this day.

If he’d been single, he would’ve called other hybrids he knew and had helped him before. He has you know he doesn’t want to disrespect you or your relationship. He’d be thinking of you even if he’s with someone else. Due to this, through the next two days, his hand becomes his best friend.

                      ○●○●○●○●○●

It’s your six-month anniversary today, and after a romantic date, you and Yoongi desperately enter your apartment. Hands are everywhere, lips are swollen, and sex is in the air. Yoongi teased you all night under the dinner table, refusing to give you what you wanted. Your begging in his ear to fuck you in the car or bathroom not working in your favor.

The door to your apartment bangs against the wall as you push it open. Yoongi pushes you into the room, slamming the door behind him. He likes to think he has it memorized. He pulls your leg around his waist, grinding against you. You moan as he buries his head on your neck.

A cough and the scent of another hybrid force Yoongi to stop in his tracks. With narrowed eyes, he pulls away from your neck. A bunny hybrid stands at the living room entrance, a corn popsicle in his hand.

“For fucks sake Jungkook,” you say under your breath, creating distance between you and Yoongi. “How many times have I told you to call ahead?”

“I did, though! I sent you a message this morning,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his ice cream.

“The message says ‘What’s up?’” You read the message, expecting to see another one following up with an announcement of his visit. The bunny shrugs like it’s not his problem, and you sigh in annoyance.

Yoongi is confused, to say the least. Who is this stranger in your living room? Noticing his expression, you quickly introduce the two hybrids.

“Yoongi, this is my brother Jungkook.”

Yoongi’s confusion rises to a new degree; something is not adding up. Jungkook catches on to his train of thought, and with a chuckle, he adds, “Adopted.”

You had never mentioned your brother was a hybrid. You’ve been dating for six months, and that never came up once. He wonders why that is. It would explain the light hybrid scent in your apartment. Yoongi always thought it came from one of your neighbor’s apartments.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook,” Yoongi coughs to ease the tension.

“How long are you staying?” You ask your brother, crossing your arms against your chest. You are slightly upset, today is meant to be a celebration, and with Jungkook here, that can’t happen. Still, you’re not mad. You love Kook; he’s your best friend.

“Just the weekend, I got an exam on Tuesday,” Jungkook says.

“You look really nice,” he tells you, “Were you guys on a date?”

Yoongi nods solemnly. He’s not sure what to do in this situation. He thought when he’d meet your family, it wouldn’t be in such a compromising condition. Granted, Jungkook being a hybrid helped ease his nerves. He doesn’t have to worry about a stranger judging him or you for your relationship.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Jungkook grimaces in apology.

“Does mom know you’re here?” You ask him while walking to your room.

Clearly, Jungkook is here to stay, so you’ll change and get more comfortable. There’s no use in staying in the uncomfortable dress and lingerie you’d worn for Yoongi. You can save it for next time and surprise him with the black lace set.

“Nope,” he simply says, following you to your room.

You close the door behind you, and Jungkook continues the conversation on the other side. While you forgot to mention that Jungkook is a hybrid, you mentioned that he has no boundaries and easily gets very comfortable with people.

Feeling out of place, Yoongi waits for you on the couch. Maybe with Jungkook here, you wouldn’t like him to stay, or you’d leave with him to his place. The bunny hybrid carefully eyed him as if assessing if he was a good guy or not.

Jungkook almost falls when you open the door. You’ve changed into his hoodie, shorts, and geeky superhero socks. It’s been getting colder lately, making your feet feel freezing. Whenever you go to bed with Yoongi, you press your cold feet on his thigh, making him hiss. Then you’d remind him of his promise of keeping you warm six months ago.

“I couldn’t find the banana milk,” Jungkook pouts, following you around the apartment.

“It’s on the pantry’s lowest shelf,” you mention, flopping on the couch beside Yoongi.

You cuddle on his side when he wraps an arm around your shoulder. Jungkook returns to the living room, eyeing the both of you.

“Jungkook, don’t be so awkward,” you laugh at him, patting the seat beside you.

“I feel bad I interrupted you guys night,” he admits, flopping beside you like you did moments ago. It’s hard to say who got that from who.

“It’s no problem, Jungkook. I’m happy to finally meet you,” Yoongi adds that it’s no biggie.

Jungkook smiles at the both of you and finally eases up. He spends the rest of the night getting to know Yoongi better. You’re pleased they both get along well. If anything, Jungkook even looks up at Yoongi. When you told him you were dating a hybrid, Jungkook was ecstatic. He never mentioned it, but whenever you brought home your human boyfriends, they were always uncomfortable around Jungkook, which hurt him. 

They never understood his hybrid mannerisms. They’d begin thinking he was hitting on you after learning that he was adopted. Now with Yoongi, he won’t have that problem because he will understand.

At the end of the night, Yoongi stays. He’d offered to leave, but you didn’t see a point to it. Even if you do nothing tonight due to your guest’s heightened sense of hearing, you want him to stay to finish the celebration.

“So adopted?” Yoongi asks. He’s lying on your chest as your play with his hair. It calms him down.

“Mm, yes.”

As a teen, your mom had a friend, and she had a bunny girl hybrid as a servant. They didn’t treat her the best, but your mom was always kind to her, and they became somewhat friends. They kept in touch through the years. One day when you were 16 and Jungkook was 12, she died in a car accident. Some believe it was on purpose. 

At the time, she was working for a sketchy man, and he did unspeakable things to her that she could not repeat. By now, the law for hybrids had passed, and she was going to report him. The man followed her and ran over her with his car. Before she died in the hospital, she asked your mom to take care of Jungkook. You and Jungkook became best friends, and your parents gained another child.

“That was nice of your family,” Yoongi hums, caressing your leg.

Jungkook is lucky he was born after the law for hybrids was passed; hence, he was not separated from his mother and got to meet and get to know her. 

Yoongi never got to meet his mom, he doesn’t even have a name. If his memory is good, Jungkook still remembers her, or he has photographs. As soon as Yoongi was born, he was raised with other hybrid kids, and when Yoongi was old enough, he got sold to servitude.

“You should’ve seen him when he first moved in, shy and cute,” you gush over Jungkook. He had this wide-eyed innocent gaze. He always asked permission for everything and anything. It took your family a while to break that habit. It makes you laugh cause nowadays, he does as he wishes and has everyone wrapped around his little finger.

“Reminds me of someone,” Yoongi mentions, squeezing your thigh.

“That’s different. I was flustered by your dashing good looks!” you exclaim, lightly slapping his chest.

The following day you wake up bright and early to prepare breakfast. Jungkook walks in with his hair pointing in all directions. He kisses your cheek in greeting before sitting on the kitchen table. Like clockwork, you give him a glass of juice with a straw and a silicone tip. 

Jungkook likes biting on straws (on everything he can get his teeth on). When you stopped buying the plastics ones for the more environmentally friendly metal ones, Jungkook didn’t like that and began complaining about how he couldn’t bite into them. Falling for his whines, you bought a pack of silicone tips and then another, and then another cause he destroyed them with his bunny teeth.

“Have plans today?” You ask him, ruffling his messy hair. Jungkook leans into his touch, feeling comforted by the simple action.

“I think I’m gonna lazy around and play online if that’s okay,” he asks sweetly, knowing that otherwise you would scold him and tell him to go out and enjoy the fresh air. He doesn’t know that since you’ve been with Yoongi, you’ve turned more into a homebody.

“Of course. Yoongi and I will be heading out to work soon, but you call me if you need anything.”

You had prepared a stack of blueberry pancakes for all of you. You served Jungkook a big plate, knowing he eats like there’s no tomorrow. His bunny metabolism helps him with that, and his unrelenting energy. As you place the plate in front of Jungkook, he gently bites into your arm.

You sigh in defeat, knowing there’s no way for him to stop his biting. For years you’ve told him not to do it, but it’s an instinct of his. He does it when he’s angry, when he’s sleepy, when he’s happy, when he’s annoyed. What varies is how hard he does it.

Jungkook smiles mischievously, waiting for your complaint, but all you do is brush through his long dark hair, undoing the knots that form by his bunny ears. Just like Yoongi purrs, Jungkook makes a weird sound in the back of his throat whenever you touch him around his ears.

Yoongi, having woken up later than you, walks into the kitchen. He’s dressed in clothes he’s left here in the past months. He beelines for you, pecking your lips sweetly as you hand him a plate of pancakes.

“Morning, Jungkook,” Yoongi greets the younger boy.

“Morning, Yoongi,” Jungkook says with his mouth full of pancakes.

You sit between them, striking conversation between the three of you. It’s much easier than you thought, as Jungkook just asks question after question at Yoongi. He’s never felt more at ease with one of your boyfriends.

“Can I stop by the store later?” He asks Yoongi with puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, I’ll be there till 6,” Yoongi agrees with a soft smile. There is a lot of Jungkook that reminds him of you. While you are not biologically related, you’ve adapted to each other’s mannerisms.

In the afternoon, Jungkook stops by your office to have lunch. He always has a great time at your building since most people know him there. He hopes to work there after he graduates from university.

As promised, Jungkook then stops by Yoongi’s store. He has walked by the small shop many times but never stopped to go inside. The bell at the door jingles when Jungkook walks in. Yoongi has just finished checking out a customer.

“Hey, Kook.” Yoongi greets him, his black tail swishing behind him. He’s heard you call him Kook so many times it stuck.

“Hi, Yoongi,” Jungkook absentmindedly responds, staring around the store and its variety, from musical instruments to producing equipment to music albums of all kinds and formats.

“Your sister mentioned you were collecting vinyl?” Yoongi asks him, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I have a few,” Jungkook nods, looking at the cat hybrid, who offers him a sneaky smile.

“I pulled these out for you. I think you might like them.” Yoongi pulls out two pieces of vinyl still wrapped in plastic from the shelf behind him. Yoongi likes the bunny hybrid and sees how happy he makes you, so he doesn’t mind giving Jungkook a small gift.

“How do you have these?” Jungkook exclaims in awe. In his hands are two limited edition vinyls of his favorite artists. These have been sold out everywhere for a long time, and very few people sold them. Whenever they did the waitlist, the bids were ridiculous.

“I’ve got contacts,” Yoongi shrugs cockily.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna get along just fine,” Jungkook beams at him, gushing over the vinyl.

They spend quite a lot of time talking about music, and Yoongi is surprised at all the knowledge the bunny holds. There are things Yoongi thought only a few people knew, but Jungkook is proving him wrong here.

“Is there a reason you visited this weekend?” Yoongi smoothly asks Jungkook. He’s noticed some things about the bunny that lead him to think it’s not just to have a friendly visit.

“Nope, was tired of school,” Jungkook says, lying.

“Your sister has mentioned you like to skip a lot,” Yoongi adds. He’s staring out the window wanting to keep the bunny calm.

“I don’t skip that much,” Jungkook complains with a groan. His sister always exaggerates things, he barely misses school.

“Everything okay?” Yoongi inquires again.

“I know my sister worries, but I’m fine. You don’t have to do this.”

Since he came into your life, you’ve worried about Jungkook-or not so much about him but the people around him. Not everyone is tolerant of hybrids, and you know this. When he came into your life, you were already in high school, so you weren’t there to defend him when bullies bothered him. When he was 12, he wasn’t big and buff to scare people away as he is now. He was small and scrawny, your parents talked to the principal and the other parents, but there’s only so much they could do.

“She didn’t send me to do anything. I just noticed the bruise on your arm,” Yoongi points to Jungkook’s left arm.

“Don’t tell her,” Jungkook sighs, defeated. He’d tried to hide the bruise as best he could. “My roommate is an ass, and he’s always taunting me, calling me a helpless bunny. He’s provoking me. I usually leave because if I throw the first punch, I get expelled. My parents did a lot to get me into the school I wanted. I don’t want to let them down.”

“You’re doing good, Jungkook,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. He understands Jungkook’s predicament. No matter how well a hybrid does, one misstep can end it all.

“But?” Jungkook prompts, there’s always a but.

“You should tell someone, get you out of that dorm. Staying quiet will only get you so far,” Yoongi advices. From his perspective, Jungkook has a great support system and should take advantage of that.

“Maybe, I don’t want the attention, though, or for my family to worry,” Jungkook explains. They’ve done so much for him already. He doesn’t want to be a burden.

“Just think about it. Your sister is worrying and doesn’t know what’s happening.”

“You won’t tell her?” Jungkook pleads, finding Yoongi’s gaze. All he wants is to do this by himself.

“It’s not my place,” he reassures Jungkook with a nod.

Thinking of Yoongi’s words, Jungkook agrees. He’ll take care of this situation. He’ll apply for a new roommate or move in by himself. Next time something happens, he’ll speak up.

○●○●○●○●○●

One lazy morning, Yoongi stares at the ceiling. It’s too early to be up. His arm is around you as your head lies on his chest. He had woken up from a nightmare. It had been a while since he had one of those. Why is it that when things are going great, the universe reminds him of the horrible things he’s been through?

Yoongi feels you stir as you wake up. You stretch out your limbs before settling back in Yoongi’s chest.

“Why are you awake so early?” You yawn, kissing his exposed chest. Yoongi can’t sleep with many clothes on, or he’ll get too hot at night.

Yoongi hugs you close, kissing your head, “I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yoongi hasn’t told you much about his past life. When he talks about his past, it’s mainly the part of his life after Lee adopted him. You understand it’s something he wants to leave behind and respect it. It’s time, though, Yoongi thinks.

“When I was a kid before the law passed, I was owned by this family,” Yoongi begins, “Even though I was barely a child, they would have me do chores around the house, clean up their kids’ messes, and obey every little word they said. I remember their kids bullying me into acting ‘like the animal I was.’ They would make me eat off the floor and crawl around the house till my knees were bruised. They’d get physical too, pulling on my tail and ears till I cried.”

“I’m so sorry, Yoongi,” you say sadly. You can’t imagine a child going through that, yet it’s the reality many hybrids face.

“When the law passed, I was thrown into the streets. I was alone, cold, and hungry, eating off the trash like a stray. An old woman took me in. She was nice enough. She needed company, but more than that, she needed help around the house. Mostly, I went unscathed unless I did something she thought was out of line. That’s when she’d search for her dead husband’s belt and beat me with it. I never left, though. Where would I go? When she died, I was 14, and back to the streets, I went. I went to different hybrid and homeless shelters, but there was always some sort of problem with them, and they never offered a way to get out of the streets.”

“What did you do then?” Your hands are trailing up and down his stomach, offering some comfort.

“I came to this city, hoping there would be more resources. It was the same. That’s when things truly got worse….” Yoongi trails off, thinking of his past.

“Yoongs, you don’t have to,” You reassure him, getting in a position where you can see his face. His eyes are distant, so you touch his cheek and peck his lips.

“I want you to know,” he slowly responds.

“Okay,” you nod, offering him a small smile that you hoped comforted him.

“There was this sketchy guy I always saw around, and one day he asked me if I wanted to make some money. He knew I did, and he used that to his advantage. He had customers all around the city with different tasks. All I had to do was go to the addresses he gave me, do whatever they wanted me to do, and leave. And I did, at first, it was stupid stuff to help an older man with a yard, clean a house, or do a delivery. When he had my trust, things got sketchier delivering mystery packages to rundown houses, watching some people and reporting back to him, and transporting vehicles from one side of town to another.

Until one day, he said he had an extra special job for me. All I had to do was go to an apartment in the middle of the city. I went, and there, a lady greeted me. It was unlike anything I had ever done before; she complimented me. She led me to this false sense of security and then took what she wanted.” Yoongi pauses, remembering that horrible day, “Turns out they pay a lot for hybrids in heat.”

You think of Jungkook and what would’ve been of him if your family hadn’t taken him in. Your poor Jungkook wouldn’t have survived what Yoongi went through. His heart has always been too pure, too gentle. More so, you feel pain for Yoongi for having to go through it. What he’s been through is some people’s worst nightmare, and he had to go through it all alone.

“I left after that day, didn’t accept the money that came with it or any other tasks offered to me. I spent a year in the streets, barely scraping by and hiding in alleys. There was the music store I always walked by, and one day I gathered the courage to walk in. Lee instantly spotted me and watched me as I played a few keys on the piano. An instrument that has been there for most of my life. The first family I had owned one, and I got to learn the basics by watching their kid’s lessons. The old lady had one, too, that she let me use. She actually liked when I played.

I played a song lightly on Lee’s display piano, and when I finished, Lee was there watching me. He asked me if I needed a job, and despite me showing him I was a homeless hybrid, he didn’t care. Turns out Lee had lost a son due to an illness, and he saw something of his son in me. I was hesitant initially, but Lee always proved to be an honorable man. That’s where I’ve stayed until now, repaying him for everything he did for me.”

When he finishes the story, you have tear tracks down your face. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t deserve to. After all, you were not the one to go through that stuff, yet you felt for Yoongi. You felt the pain in his voice and the injustices he had to go through. His memories still haunt him through his dreams when he should be resting peacefully in the safety of his home.

“I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.” Your voice is watery as you try to voice your thoughts, “I’m so happy that you found Lee and that you’ve found happiness because it’s all you deserve and more.”

“I love you, Blue,” Yoongi confesses for the first time, sitting on the bed. “It’s why I’m telling you, I love you, and you need to know my past before it’s too late.” He needed you to know in case you decided to leave.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you cry out happily, holding his cheeks in your hands. “It pains me that you have such a tragic past, but it led you to me, and it’s not going to change how I think of you.”

With tears of relief in his eyes, Yoongi kisses you nice and softly. He loves you, and you love him. You know everything you need to know about him, and it didn’t scare you away. He couldn’t ask for anything better.

○●○●○●○●○●

By the time his next heat rolls around, Yoongi has talked to you about it. You had randomly brought up the subject one night, asking him about what he did in those instances. He had been honest about how he usually had someone helping him and reciprocated that help when the time came. He quickly added how he was all alone last time, afraid you’d think he had cheated.

It all made you feel guilty; you didn’t want Yoongi to be in pain and discomfort because of you. At the same time, you did not like the idea of someone else getting to help him and touch him when he was in such a vulnerable state. The only solution was to offer him your help to which he reluctantly agreed.

It led to a long night of Yoongi giving you a rundown of what usually happens when he’s in heat and what to expect. He pretty straightforwardly told you not to take to heart all the breeding references about giving you his babies. You’d giggled at that and told him not to worry. You might actually be into that.

The fated day finally arrives without warning. His constant fucking around with you completely masked the incessant horny feeling he gets. Your voice wakes him up, ripping him away from the dreamy haze he had been in. Unconsciously he had been rutting against her side, his cock rock hard and larger than normal.

“Yoong’s, you’re burning up,” you say, touching his forehead, which is beginning to be coated by sweat.

“I have to go,” Yoongi groans, sitting up. Despite having thrashed all the sheets, he’s sweaty and sticky, “I’m in heat.”

“Yoongi, we talked about this. You have me now. You don’t have to go through this alone,” you tell him, holding onto his arm, preventing him from getting up.

“It can be too much, Blue, and I won’t be thinking straight,” he insists half-heartedly. All he wants is your help, but he’s scared you’ll be disgusted by this side of him.

“Lie back down. I’ve got you,” you say, pushing Yoongi lightly back onto the pillows.

Taking off your underwear, you lift the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed and straddle him. Since this isn’t a time to have tons of foreplay, you grab his hard cock, pumping it while you rub your clit to get yourself wet. Yoongi complains, wanting to feel the warmth of your pussy, swearing it’s the only thing that will relieve him.

Finally, you take all his cock, a sting following as you get used to his size. He’s so much bigger when he’s in heat you have never felt as full. Yoongi sighs in relief under you, grabbing your hips to set a pace that will please him best. His hands gripping you so tightly he thrusts into you desperately. His eyes are closed, concentrating on how you clench around him, but he needs more.

He pulls out of you and swiftly brings you to your knees, your front pressed onto the mattress. He slams back into you without hesitation, making you moan loudly onto the pillows. The room is all but quiet. You’re whining from Yoongi, pushing deep into you. Yoongi is groaning filthy words about how well your pussy is taking him, and the sound of your skin slapping reverberates.

For Yoongi, the first wave is the hardest to overcome. It takes a lot out of him to cum. He wants to so badly, but the pain edges him on. Luckily, you’re great to help with what you do next.

“Fuck me, Yoongi. I wanna have your babies!” You yell under him.

You swear your words make Yoongi’s cock swell even more, the stretch unreal. He thrusts hard, pulling away entirely and slamming back in. Tears well in your eyes. It feels too good. You’ve already cum around him once, and he barely noticed. You’re overstimulated by this new experience.

“We’re gonna keep going until you’re full of my cum,” he groans. Yoongi is drenched in sweat his hair sticking onto his forehead. His chest glistens with the dimmed lights of the bedroom.

Yoongi is entranced by how his cockhead pops in and out of your wet pussy. His length is entirely covered in your slick, making it much easier to thrust into you. You were made just for him. There’s no other explanation for why you feel so good hugging his cock.

Finally, feeling like he’s near his release, he lifts you up your back is against his front. He digs his head into your neck, breathing your delightful smell in. His scent entangled in yours prompts him to harshly bite you, leaving a mark on your neck as if he has claimed you as his. Yoongi is right, you are a pain slut, which brings you over the edge.

“That’s it, Blue, milk my cock, take all of it,” Yoongi stills as you clench around him, his nails digging into your hips, leaving half-moon marks on your skin as he empties inside of you.

“Everything you’ll give me,” You pant, your legs feeling like jelly as you slump against Yoongi.

Pulling your head to the side, he places short messy kisses all over your face. The heat waves he felt coursing through his body ceased momentarily. He pulls out of you, his cock not quite soft yet. You whine at the emptiness and how sensitive you feel down there.

Cum trickles out of you as you lay back on the bed, yet Yoongi pushes it back with his fingers. He hushes you when you shudder, kissing your thigh, “Can’t waste it.”

As you predicted, some minutes after his first release Yoongi is back on you. He kneels between your legs, grabbing your hips to fuck you like that. Yoongi is a visual person, so he takes much pleasure watching you take his cock, your cunt pink and puffy from his previous abuse. Part of his cum leaks out of you, although this time around, he doesn’t worry as he promises to give you more.

His mind flashes with the thought of you pregnant, carrying his kittens. Pretty girl. He splays his hand over your lower abdomen and presses down, he feels himself inside of you, and you see stars as he stimulates your spot. You cum again, legs shaking. Yoongi drips in sweat and, with a painful groan, releases inside of you again. Still inside you, plugging you up, he breathes heavily and lays on your chest. You brush through his wet hair, whispering sweet nothings.

“You did so well, Yoongi,” you rasp out, “Fucked me so good.”

Your throat is dry and raspy. You need water, yet you don’t dare to get up. Yoongi needs you.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers, “I can finish this myself. You’ve done more than enough.”

Through his haze, he offers you another exit. Heats are too much for the hybrid. He can’t imagine how much it’ll be for you. He appreciates your help but understands if you want to leave now that you’ve tasted how it is.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” you reassure him gently, “I want to help you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Yoongi insists, kissing the swell of your breast.

“You won’t,” you laugh, “I’m sturdier than I seem.”

Yoongi props up on his elbows and thrust slowly, feeling more in control. “I love you, Blue.”

“I love you, Yoongi,” you gasp. Yoongi pins your hands at your sides, lacing your fingers with his.

He’s so pretty with his face flushed. He looks softer with the needy expressions he’s making. Your legs wrap around his waist, trapping him close to you. Yoongi likes it when you get clingy and territorial. It makes him feel wanted.

You sleep hours later with your leg over his hip and his cock nestled inside you. He had managed to snooze off too. Granted, right before your alarm rings, he’s already thrusting into you. You hold onto his back, moaning into his ear and leaving scratch marks behind.

The next day you leave for work, not before Yoongi scents you and fucks you in the shower. The water washing away the remains of him. When you return in the afternoon, he waits for you, shirtless and in sweatpants laying low. He takes you against the door, jeans down to your knees.

By the third day, Yoongi is high and lazy from fucking you so much. He lets you take control, and you ride him lazily, his hands tracing the bruises on your body, some accidental, some on purpose. In his moments of lucidity, he apologizes for the roughness. It’s never his intention to hurt you. You always so kindly wave him off. You don’t care about them, just that your kitty is getting the relief he needs.

You’ve received strange looks at work, and you later learn by visiting Tae it’s because you smell like Yoongi, your usual florals and chocolate scent are almost gone. Only hybrids notice that, so Yoongi also leaves hickeys on your neck (which you hide) for the humans that might want to try something.

By the fourth day, his heat is over. You sneak out of bed to go to work and let Yoongi rest. He’s as still as the dead, exhausted and spent. When you return from work, you smell home-cooked food, and the table is set romantically with flowers in the center and candles.

“You’re home,” Yoongi says, kissing you gently, “Come, I’ve prepared you a bath.”

He leads you to the bathroom, where the tub is steaming with bath salts and bath bombs, more candles are alight, and a glass of wine rests by the tub. Yoongi helps you undress, kissing each and every bruise on your body. You giggle at certain parts as you’re ticklish. Then he offers his hand to help you into the tub.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be finishing up dinner,” he softly smiles at you.

You relax into the water and nod. Yoongi didn’t have to do any of this; it’s not like he can control his heat. It has you feeling cared for, though, and that’s something you can’t take for granted. When you get dressed, you both have dinner. He apologizes again and hopes he didn’t scare you away. You reassure him he didn’t. You even tell him you found most of it hot, including the breeding kink that came naturally with him.

Yoongi blushes and says ‘noted’ under his breath. The rest of the night, you and Yoongi cuddle, and before bed, he gives you a massage. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he insists, and who are you to refuse?

Days later, you take a pregnancy test, scared of the result. You have no symptoms, but the amount of times you and Yoongi had sex is unholy, and you’re afraid your birth control pills might’ve failed you. His heat clouds his mind, it’s designed to breed and reproduce. Each time he came, he did it inside of you. You know your birth control is 95% effective, yet what’s to stop you from being that 5%. You’re not ready for children. It’s not something you’ve spoken about, either. You pick up the test with shaking hands once the alarm goes off. It’s negative.

○●○●○●○●○●

There are days when you are too busy to go out for lunch. Today is one of those days. Luckily, Yoongi offers to bring you food for when you have time to eat something. It’s his first time visiting you at work, and he realizes he doesn’t know exactly where you work. He always thought you worked at the multi-office building near the corner.

When he follows the direction, it leads him to the building he despises. You never told Yoongi you work there. Feeling uncomfortable, he walks in, where a receptionist greets him, “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Yoongi tells her your name. It feels foreign on his tongue. He’s always called you Blue, and very few people call you by your government name as it is.

“Oh, you must be Yoongi! She told me you’d be coming. Take this pass. Her office is to the left on the 30th floor. You’ll see her name on the door.”

That’s a high number. In fact, it’s one of the few at the top. Usually, that means a high position, but you’ve never really talked about your job. Yoongi knocks on the frosted glass door with your name on it, preceded by Prod.

He wants to leave. How come you never told him you were a producer? That seems like the thing to say when your boyfriend owns a Music Store. You had told him you loved music, and that was it. Anyone can love music and not be involved at all. Not even that whenever he asked about work, you’d say you didn’t like talking about it to keep things separate. How many songs has he heard on the radio that you worked on?

He gets no response, so he opens the frosted glass door he sees a studio with state-of-the-art equipment. You were at the desk with big headphones covering your ears. He could hear a beat coming from them. He taps you on your shoulder, and you jump in surprise.

“Yoongi!” You say loudly, forgetting the headphones on your ears. “Oops, sorry.”

“Hey, I got your food,” he says, raising the plastic bag, but his eyes can’t stop taking in the studio and all the tools you had.

“You are a lifesaver,” you gush, grabbing the bag from him to open it.

“You never mentioned you were a producer,” he clicks his tongue in mild annoyance.

“I didn’t?” you ask, distracted by the food, “Huh, well, this where I work, always at your service.”

“Your boyfriend works at a Music Store, and you forget to mention your work in music,” Yoongi says sarcastically.

“I did say I worked at this building,” you roll your eyes with a smile thinking his joking.

“I always thought it was the other one with the medical offices,” he coughs, scratching the back of his neck in awkwardness.

“This is a huge miscommunication, my bad,” you say sheepishly, taking a bite of the sushi he bought for you.

Yoongi doesn’t know how to feel. He hates the building company for denying him the opportunity of becoming an artist. They were clearly against him being a hybrid despite having the talent. And here you are, working happily in what he wanted. You’re living his dream. It should make you perfect for him, yet all he feels is resentment.

You don’t sense his internal ‘debate’ as you eat. You’re too much in your head over the deadlines you have to meet. It doesn’t work in your favor as Yoongi leaves with a kiss on your cheeks with the excuse of a delivery to the shop. He had to get out of there and think clearly before he blew up on you.

He spends the whole day thinking about how you can work in a company that is against hybrids. He lets his losses get to him and project to you. So when you arrive at his apartment that night to spend time with him, he doesn’t greet you and just spits out, “How can you work in that company?”

“Excuse me?” You ask him, confused you haven’t even taken off your coat.

“That’s such a horrible company, Blue! They discriminate against hybrids. I can’t believe you’d work in such a place,” he argues, standing before you. His posture is tense and his ears and tail lay flat against his body.

“Yoongi, what the fuck? What are you going on about? The company is not against hybrids,” You exclaim, taking a step back.

“Of course they are. I lived through it,” Yoongi reveals.

You pause with wide eyes, “When? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“Five years ago, I went to audition as a producer. They said that despite my talent, they wouldn’t hire me,” he says, fingers raking through his dark hair.

“That’s unbelievable,” you huff, crossing your arms defensively. Many hybrids work at the company, and she’s never heard complaints of the boss treating them poorly.

“How can you not believe me, your boyfriend, and believe the awful people,” Yoongi scolds her angrily. You can’t be so blind.

“Because that’s my family!” You yell, shutting him up.

“What?” Yoongi goes slack at your words.

“My dad is the company’s CEO, and I can assure you we are not discriminatory against hybrids. For fucks sake, Yoongi, you’ve met Jungkook. Would people who hate hybrids adopt one?”

You don’t like to pull out often that your dad is the CEO of the family company, but this is Yoongi you’re talking to. He cares about you, and you’ve been together long enough that it feels okay for him to know. Besides, maybe this way, he’ll understand that what he says is a lie.

His following words slip with little thought. “Who knows, maybe you just want to look good to the public?”

“If that’s what you think, fine. I’m leaving,” you respond firmly. You will not take anyone speaking shit about your family. It hurts you to hear him say those things. By insulting your family, he insults you too.

You hope Yoongi stops you, but he doesn’t. He knows what he was told. He stays silent, waiting for you to go. He’s set on his way.

It’s one long week where you barely talk to Yoongi. You give him time to apologize or reach out, but he doesn’t. When he realizes his mistake of comparing you to the ones that hurt him, you don’t answer.

○●○●○●○●○●

It has to be a mistake. There is no way your father, who runs the company, turned someone down for being a hybrid. Hell, half of the staff are hybrids. Producers, artists, HR, everything. There are hybrids in all departments. How come Yoongi didn’t see that when he visited.

You’ve spent enough time stewing on this. Time to go to the source, your father. You knock on his office door and hear faintly, “Come in.”

“Darling, how nice of you to visit your old man,” your dad jokes, standing from his desk to hug you.

“Sorry, dad, I’ve been swamped,” you apologize, plopping down on one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

“I know, I’ve seen your reports, and you’re doing well. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at his daughter, expecting one in return. Instead, she plays with a loose thread on her sweater, not paying attention to him. “What troubles you?”

“You know the guy I’m dating,” you sigh, looking up at your dad.

“Yoongi, yes,” he nods, remembering everything you’ve told him about Yoongi.

“Apparently, he auditioned here like 7-ish years ago, and he says that you or whoever was in his audition didn’t accept him because he was a hybrid,” you say. It’s best not to beat around the bush.

“Really?” He asks, concerned, “Let me look it up.”

In times like these, he’s glad the company keeps a database of all the auditions and interview processes. One of his goals as CEO is to eliminate barriers between all kinds of people, giving them all a fair chance of working here.

“I have his file up. I remember him. He was very talented. He never came back. What a shame,” he hums, rewatching the audition.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“I couldn’t accept him at the time, but I told him to come in a year or two for another audition,” your father explains, passing you a flash drive with the audition.

“Why didn’t you accept him at the time?”

“It wouldn’t be beneficial for him at the time the regulations for hybrids in big companies were not good. They basically required full background screenings and medical exams. And the health benefits were basically nonexistent. Most hybrids don’t have past experiences, and if they do, they’re bad not because they are, but because of the situation they are put through. It wasn’t until a year later they eliminated that law, and their rights were looking better.”

“That makes sense,” you sigh in relief. You shouldn’t have doubted your family.

“If he wants, he can have another audition. You know we’re always looking for new producers.”

“Thanks, dad, I’ll mention it to him,” you smile, leaving.

This is great! Yoongi can audition, and he’ll be able to work alongside you. You just know he’ll do so well. He already has an excellent ear for music. He may be a bit rusty, but nothing a little practice can’t help. She can lend him a hand too!

“Send him my apologies. I never wanted it to seem the wrong way.”

“I will,” you say, rushing out the door.

A knock on the door interrupts Yoongi’s evening nap. He opens the door expecting Jimin or Jin, but you’re at the door with your arms crossed.

“You’re an idiot,” you shoulder him to walk into the apartment.

“I know. I’m sorry, Blue, I shouldn’t have overreacted and assumed things about you,” Yoongi sincerely apologizes.

“You think?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m apologizing, don’t be a bitch,” Yoongi pouts, not liking your attitude.

“It’s just you infuriate me. I’ve been good to you. I don’t think I’ve ever done something to hurt you, and if I have, I’m sorry. But what you did was so unfair. Even if my family were as horrible as you made them seem, I’m not them. And I haven’t given you a reason to believe that,” you lightly argue. You’re not looking to pick a fight. You just want him to understand.

Yoongi hugs you from behind. His words don’t mean anything right now. He lets you vent. You relax against him eventually, grabbing the arms that were around you.

“I talked to my dad,” you whisper, “you misunderstood the situation, Yoongs.”

“Blue, I’m sure of what I heard,” he whispers back.

“My dad records his auditions for moments like this,” you say, handing him the flash drive. “You were great Yoong’s, and they would’ve hired you. They didn’t because it wouldn’t have been helpful for you.”

You explain the situation and your father’s words. If he had gone through the audition, the government tracking hybrids wouldn’t process his applications. That’s why your father told him to return.

“I-how could I have misunderstood this so badly,” Yoongi sighs defeated. He could’ve been so much happier sooner if he had only listened. He could’ve been a producer already. He would’ve met you a long time ago as well.

“It was seven years ago. You were hurt and wanted a reason to be mad,” you comfort him.

“I’ve spent seven years glaring at the building for nothing,” Yoongi humorously laughs.

“My dad says if you want an audition, you have it,” you tell him.

“Really?” Yoongi looks at you, “I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore. I gave up on that dream long ago.”

Being a producer was his biggest dream, yet after the disappointment, he instilled in himself, he came to the conclusion that giving up on his dream was for the best. Now he’s not sure he can visualize himself as a producer.

“If you change your mind, the opportunity is there.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Your relationship has kept you so busy you can’t remember the last time you went out with Hoseok and Tae to karaoke. You send them a quick text, and they both agree to meet. As per their request, you bring Yoongi and Jungkook along. The more, the merrier.

Hoseok and Tae are waiting when you get there. They’ve already picked a room. The group orders drinks, which quickly creates a buzz in the room. It takes them no less than 20 minutes to get the party going.

While you and Taehyung duet an old 80s song, Hoseok approaches Yoongi. He’d heard about Yoongis’s job offer and wondered if he would take it.

“You said no?” Hoseok repeats, his facial expression clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Yoongi nods, taking a sip from his drink. He lightly laughs at you and Tae’s terrible rendition.

“Why? I thought it was your dream,” Hoseok asks. He knows what the job entitles. He’s worked at the company for some years now. It’s challenging and frustrating. It’ll drain you of all inspiration faster than you’d think, yet he wouldn’t do anything else in the world. His stunt at the cafe months ago confirmed that.

“It is or was. I don’t know; I feel out of touch. When I went to Blue’s office, there was so much equipment I hadn’t even seen. It’s been a while since I’ve produced too. I write less and less as the years go on,” Yoongi sighs, being honest with Hoseok.

“How about you come to my studio this week? Check it out. I can show you around. It’s not as intimidating as it seems, and I know you’ve got the talent,” Hoseok offers kindly, no strings attached.

In his mind giving Yoongi space from you is good. That way, Yoongi is not pressured to agree with whatever you say or do.

“You’ve never heard anything of mine,” Yoongi rebukes.

“Haven’t I, Gloss?” Hoseok laughs.

Yoongi’s expression is priceless. He left the underground business when he got rejected by your company. He hasn’t been called that in years.

“That’s right, I know my people,” Hoseok laughs. He didn’t recognize him at the cafe, but after you told him about the audition, he did some digging.

“Alright, I’ll go check it out,” Yoongi nods.

Maybe Hoseok was right. Perhaps an hour or two in a neutral studio can inspire or convince him. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but he never envisioned himself working his whole life at the music store.

“Yoongi, come on, it’s our turn,” Jungkook calls over, holding a microphone.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi returns to your apartment the morning after. The smell hits him as he exits the elevator- someone is in heat. He ignores it, but the closer he gets to your door, the harder it is to ignore. Realizing it’s coming from your apartment, he rushes in to find you pacing in the living room in distress.

“What are you doing here while Jungkook is in heat?” Yoongi hisses, staying by the door.

“Thank god you’re here, Yoongi! I don’t know what to do. This hasn’t happened before,” you cry, hugging your boyfriend.

With his arms around you, Yoongi drags you outside, closing the door behind you guys. The more distance between you and Jungkook, the better. If the smell is strong in the hallway, he can’t imagine being inside it. He fears the effect it can have on him if he breathes the scent for too long. It’s not uncommon for a hybrid’s heat to trigger another’s.

“What do you mean this is the first time it happens?” Yoongi asks. Jungkook is a 21-year-old hybrid. He must’ve gotten his heat around 7 or 8 years ago.

“Jungkook usually takes these pills to ease off his heat. He’s been taking them ever since he got his first one. I think he hasn’t been taking them ’cause he’s been spending more time in my apartment.” You try to explain, although you know very little about the subject, despite living with a hybrid for most of your childhood.

Jungkook’s bunny habits are well known in your family, and you’ve learned about hybrids, too, because of him. Heats, though, was always a subject Jungkook kept to himself because he didn’t feel comfortable sharing that part of his life with his sister. When the first one rolled around, it wasn’t so bad, and after your parents offered him the pills, he accepted. Since then, he hasn’t paid much attention to it.

It all makes sense to Yoongi now. The pills you talk about are expensive but highly effective. They basically stop a hybrid from having heat or make them asymptomatic. He’s never had the luxury of taking them, but he’s heard much about them. Enough to know that Jungkook’s heat will be more intense after not having it for so many years.

“This is bad, Blue!” Yoongi tells you, hands on your shoulders.

“What am I going to do? He’s in so much pain and won’t stop sweating and groaning!” You exclaim on the verge of tears.

“There is nothing to do,” Yoongi carefully says, “Pack a bag. We can go to my apartment while he rides this through.”

“There has to be something, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him like that!” You’re upset he would suggest leaving your brother behind in such conditions.

Your worry about Jungkook is blinding you. The gravity of the situation not making sense to you. So Yoongi takes it upon himself to explain, “He’ll be uncomfortable and in pain, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He’ll survive, and in a few days, he’ll be good as new. Your presence here can make things much worse, Blue.”

“How can you say that? I saw you when you were in heat, and I was with you. I hated seeing you like that. How do you expect me to ignore Jungkook’s pain and pretend it’s not there.” You interrupt him in distress.

“Because the only way he’ll feel relieved is for him to fuck someone. He needs to get off to relieve his temperature and relieve the pain. That’s a heat. And unless someone magically appears and volunteers, there’s nothing you can do,” Yoongi grits out, frustrated at the situation. Jungkook’s strong scent started to fuzz his brain.

“Yoongi! There has to be something….” You say, not believing Yoongi’s words.

He’s getting mad that you’re not listening, and his following words come out rough, “I already told you, have sex with Jungkook or get out.”

“I’m not doing that. He’s my brother!” You and Jungkook might not be related by blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to have sex with him. If you could, you would, but you don’t believe either can get through the mental block. Ruining your relationship with your brother is not in your plans any time soon.

“Adopted brother,” Yoongi points out. You hit him in the arm, angry at his unhelpful responses, which only gets him angrier.

“Fine, get him a hooker. That will get him feeling good in no time. Still, we have to leave.” Yoongi insists, desperate to get out of the building before he gets horny.

“He is not having sex with a stranger. I refuse!”

“Well, that only leaves me, and that’s not happening,” Yoongi replies, crossing his arms.

You pause your argument, thinking it wouldn’t be the most outrageous idea. If someone were to help him, Yoongi would be perfect for it. He’s a hybrid, too, who has had to go through his ruts mostly alone.

“Are you set on that?” You ask with a grimace. You feel bad asking this of Yoongi, but you’re desperate to help Jungkook.

He looks at you in disbelief, “You are not suggesting I have sex with your brother?”

“Yoongi, just help him for now. I know the first day is the worst. Just for today, help him, please.”

“Blue, do you understand what you’re saying?” He understands what you’re saying but is unsure you do. This is a lot, and the worst part is that he’s actually considering it. It must be Jungkook’s pheromones all in the air affecting his.

“Yes, I do. I know this isn’t romantic or anything. You’re only helping him.” you nod, decided.

“Once,” Yoongi grits out, a dead serious look on his face. “I’ll be helping him this once but never again.”

“Okay,” you nod, at a loss for words.

Yoongi shoves his keys in your hands, “Go to my apartment. I’ll get there later with your bag.”

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You speak before walking down the hallway. Before entering the elevator, you look back at Yoongi, who nods at the elevator, urging you to go. He doesn’t want you in the vicinity if he’s doing this.

He takes a minute to himself, gathering the courage to do this. All doubt disappears when he opens the door and breathes in Jungkook’s pheromones. He finds Jungkook’s room and opens the door. The bunny is lying face down in bed naked. His hips rutting into the bed to feel any type of relief. His back glistens with sweat, and his dark hair sticks to his neck.

“Hey, Kook,” Yoongi says, walking to the bed.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook says in a haze, propping himself up on his elbows, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. If he were in his right mind, he’d instantly stop and cover up. He didn’t want to, though. He had to make the pain disappear.

“I’m here to help. Is that okay?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Please,” Jungkook chokes, “It hurts so much.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Yoongi soothes him, a long finger trailing down his back. Reaching the base of his spine Yoongi tugs on the black cottontail. Jungkook whines thrusting harder against the mattress.

“Turn around,” Yoongi softly tells him.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I can’t-“

“If you don’t, then I can’t touch you, and you want me to touch you, right?” Yoongi asks him. Being in heat messes with every thought in your head. It makes hybrids think that even the smallest actions are impossible, and Jungkook suppressing his heat brings him back to step one.

With a groan Jungkook turns his body around, his cock bobs up and down as he settles on his back. Yoongi licks his lips, the bunny is so hard and ready to burst there’s a steady stream of precum coating his head.

Yoongi’s hand slides down Jungkook’s chest, admiring the hard muscle. It continues to trail down his abdomen until it reaches his pelvis. The younger boy’s hips rut, feeling Yoongi’s hands close to his cock.

Jungkook has not stopped moaning once, every little touch sending him waves of painful pleasure. He begs Yoongi to do anything, touch him, fuck him, suck him. Getting more comfortable between Jungkook’s legs, Yoongi starts stroking him. The bunny is hot and heavy in his palm. He spits in his hand for good measure, but it’s barely necessary. His thumb brushes over the dark pink tip, spreading the milky liquid down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, hand tugging at his hair and hips thrusting into Yoongi’s palm. His abs tense, showcasing the hard muscle underneath. It’s a sight for sore eyes that makes Yoongi’s pants tighten. Yoongi might’ve done this as a favor to you both, but he will enjoy this as much as he can.

“Look at me, Kook,” Yoongi calls the youngest’s attention, “Focus on me.”

The bunny’s hazy stare lands on the cat hybrid on top of him. He is also sweating, feeling the heat of the moment. His feline eyes are calculating, afraid of missing any of Jungkook’s response to his touch. The wet noise Yoongi’s hand makes as he flicks his wrist fills the room along with the bunny’s pleas.

Jungkook tries hard to keep his eyes on Yoongi, but when he feels his peak near, his eyes roll back, and his mouth opens. “That’s it, bunny, cum,” the cat hybrid encourages him, “You’ll feel so much better.”

Jungkook groans, feeling his peak, and it’s like some of the heat has dissipated. Ropes of white paint Yoongi’s hand and Jungkook’s stomach. Raising his hand to his lips, Yoongi licks the bunny’s cum, tasting him. Fuck, did he taste good. It would be a shame for Jungkook to miss it.

Leaning over, Jungkook Yoongi says, “Open your mouth, bunny.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand why but tentatively opens his mouth. Yoongi grabs his cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger and lets his saliva mixed with Jungkook’s cum, drip into the bunny’s mouth.

“Now swallow,” Yoongi orders him.

Jungkook obeys the cat hybrid, swallowing his spit. He never thought his own taste would arouse him and make him hard again in seconds. He blames it on the heat. With his temperature rising, Jungkook grabs Yoongi’s sides and flips them over. He kisses his sister’s boyfriend hard, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his pale neck, leaving a hard bite behind.

“Fuck,” Yoongi moans. He had forgotten that bunnies like to bite.

Jungkook needs to feel him close, touch him, taste him too. He takes off Yoongi’s hoodie and his t-shirt touching the older guy’s chest. He continues to kiss the cat hybrid, even biting his pouty lips. Yoongi lets him be in control for now. Jungkook needs to enjoy himself too.

Jungkook’s hard-on presses against Yoongi’s lower stomach, and feeling the skin-on-skin contact, Jungkook begins to thrust again, moaning into Yoongi’s mouth.

Jungkook is curious, curious about Yoongi and his body. He’s touched and kissed parts of him, but now he wants it all. With a goal in mind, Jungkook’s hand trails down the cat hybrid’s body to palm his length over his pants. Yoongi moans are swallowed by Jungkook, who continues to feverishly kiss him, but when he reaches for his belt, Yoongi stops him.

“Not today, bunny,” he breathes, the grip on Jungkook’s wrist tight, “Today, I get to use you as I please.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brown eyes filled with disappointment.

“You heard me,” Yoongi says, sliding out from under him, “Sit up.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi kneels between his muscular legs.

Jungkook’s cock is equally hard as in the beginning, begging for attention. With a hand on Jungkook’s knee and another on his cock, Yoongi licks a stripe along the vein that runs up the shaft, instantly making Jungkook release a throaty moan.

“Look at me, bunny,” Yoongi purrs, “If you don’t, I’ll stop.”

Jungkook’s head snaps back down to stare at Yoongi, whose wet tongue licks the head of his cock. He coats the entire length with his spit with kisses and licks. Yoongi’s pink lips momentarily wrap around his cockhead as his tongue swirls the tip. He knows he’s teasing the poor bunny. It’s his way of pleasure to see the younger hybrid fall to pieces in splutters and stutters.

Yoongi teases him, going slow and shallow, drawing little whines from Jungkook’s swollen lips. Jungkook tries to push his cock more into Yoongi’s mouth, but the cat already sees it coming and pulls away.

“Yoongi, pl-ease,” Jungkook begs, teary-eyed. By now, he’s long forgotten about pleasing Yoongi as the fever inside of him gets higher.

“What’s that, Kook?” Yoongi feigns innocence, a string of saliva attaching him to Jungkook’s hard cock.

“D-don’t tease,” Jungkook stutters out. He tries to stroke himself in desperate need, only for Yoongi to stop him.

“So impatient,” Yoongi chastises, holding Jungkook’s wrist tightly, “Hands on your sides.”

Jungkook complains at the request, earning a glare from the cat hybrid, “If you’re not going to listen, I’ll leave,” he threatens. He’s just like his sister. For a moment, Yoongi entertains the idea of dominating you both simultaneously. What a treat it would be.

“No, no!” Jungkook exclaims, grabbing fistfuls of the crumpled bedsheets.

Yoongi smirks at the pretty bunny above him. His hair is messy from raking his fingers through it, long floppy ears falling to the sides, and cheeks flushed with arousal. He wants Jungkook to feel all the pleasure he can. While having sex without the rut is nice and fun, there’s something so satisfying about sex while in heat. No matter how small, every touch is amplified and can push you to the edge.

Now that Jungkook is obedient, Yoongi takes his length back into his mouth. He works getting most of Jungkook down his throat, Yoongi’s eyes water, but it doesn’t stop him. Bobbing his head to a steady rhythm, he sucks Jungkook off, his tongue occasionally dipping into the slit of his tip. The bunny is trying his best, the veins running up his arms popping from the tight grip on the bed. When Yoongi takes him deeper than before, the grip loosens as his right hand goes to the base of his cat ears.

Almost instantly, Yoongi purrs around his cock, enticing Jungkook to thrust up. It feels so good it’s overwhelming. With Jungkook pushing on his head Yoongi deep throats him, his nose brushing against the bunny’s base. Yoongi will never admit that while it hurts, he loves the feeling of a big cock down his throat.

With a few more bobs of Yoongi’s head, Jungkook bursts. His cum runs down the cat hybrid’s throat. Yoongi breathes heavily when he releases Jungkook. His eyes are red and watery, as are his nose and mouth. He continues to lightly lick Jungkook, entertained by the way his bunny ears twitch at the feeling.

Yoongi gets up from the floor as Jungkook falls back on the bed. The bunny hybrid is exhausted as his fever goes down to a normal temperature. Yoongi helps him lie back properly and covers him with the wrinkly bedsheet. Before Yoongi leaves the room, he brushes through Jungkook’s hair with his fingers, lightly rubbing the base of his bunny ears. The sleepy bunny makes an appreciative sound as his touch lulls him to sleep completely.

This is the worst of the heat. He should be able to take care of himself from tomorrow onwards. Yoongi leaves the food and water ready for Jungkook by the nightstand. Hopefully, when he’s awake, he’ll feel better.

Yoongi goes to your room to pack your bag. In there, your scent hits him mixed with Jungkook’s pheromones. If the bunnies had driven him mad, yours added to the mix just about ended him.

He lies in your bed by your pillow where your scent is strongest. It only takes him a second to undo his belt and pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. Spitting in his hand Yoongi flicks his wrist quickly, needing a release. He had his reasons for not letting Jungkook touch him, one being that it wouldn’t be fair for the bunny hybrid. He’d been in pain for too long. The other reason was you. He’d happily done this favor for you, but now you had to pay up.

Reaching a moment of clarity, Yoongi slows his pace until he stops right before his release. He stands from the bed, tucking himself in again uncomfortably, and prepares your bag. As soon as he gets to his apartment, he’ll have his way with you, and the pent-up frustration will be worth it.

○●○●○●○●○●

Almost a year into the relationship, you decide it’s time for Yoongi to meet your parents. You organize a nice dinner at your parent’s house, they don’t have to do anything you’ll be the one cooking and setting the table.

Yoongi would get there later, Jungkook as well. You thought it would be nice to have moral support. Unfortunately, you took so long to cook that Yoongi arrived while you were getting ready, which means that your dad got the pleasure of greeting him at the door.

“Ah, if it isn’t Yoongi,” your dad exclaims cheerily, opening the door wider for Yoongi.

“Hello, I got this for you,” Yoongi nervously hands him a bottle of wine. It’s the one you mentioned your dad likes.

“I was hoping it would be the flowers,” your dad jokes, happily taking the wine.

“Is that Yoongi?” A friendly voice calls from the kitchen. Your mom walks out, surprising Yoongi with a warm hug. He hands her the flowers, which she gushes about. “Such a polite boy, don’t be shy. We don’t bite, we’ll except for Jungkookie.”

Yoongi stifles a smile because doesn’t he know it. Not only has he witnessed Jungkook shamelessly biting you when you get distracted, but that day where he needed help with his heat he left Yoongi with a few nasty marks. Marks which you later covered with your own.

“Honey, I’ll be showing Yoongi my office. We’ll be back soon,” your dad says, patting Yoongi on the back.

Yoongi is nervous, terrified even. His cat ears flatten as he follows your dad to his office. He’s only heard good things about him from you, but how reliable is that? Of course, he’s good to you and Jungkook, his kids. Yoongi is a stranger.

Yoongi sits in one of the chair desks awkwardly, looking around the room. Your dad looks him up and down as if deciding on Yoongi. From looks alone, Yoongi seems like a good man, but he needs to make his concerns known.

“Why are you with my daughter?” He asks straight to the point, his friendly smile disappearing.

“Because I love her,” Yoongi responds as best as he can.

There are a million reasons why he is with you. You’re kind, pretty, intelligent, sexy, talented, honest, and so much more. Despite all the arguments you’ve had you’ve never brought the fact his a hybrid into it. All those qualities led him to love you, the most important reason he is with you.

“It has nothing to do with her job and position in the company? How it may benefit you, Yoongi?” Your dad asks. If he didn’t ask these questions, he wouldn’t be doing his job as a father. The older man needs peace of mind that Yoongi’s intentions are the right ones.

“No. I didn’t even know she worked there till two months ago. By then, I had already fallen in love with her. I wouldn’t take advantage of her that way even if I had known before. Blue is one of the kindest people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

Your father’s tense posture relaxes, and his grin returns, “Good answer. I hope you understand why I had to ask the question. I am only a concerned father.”

“I do. Can I ask a question myself?”

“Go ahead.”

“You don’t mind that your daughter is dating a hybrid?” Yoongi insecurely asks.

“Not at all. I believe hybrids are equal, if not better, than regular humans. My children have the liberty of dating whoever they please, and I’ll approve as long as they are treated with love and respect.”

Hybrids have a good judge of character, and Yoongi can tell that he is honest and means what he says. Fear aside, he is happy to have had this conversation with your dad.

“Daddy, Yoongi?” You call them, walking in the direction of the office.

“In here, sweetheart,” your dad responds.

“Dad, stop questioning Yoongi. It’s time for dinner,” you tell him, shooting Yoongi a reassuring grin.

“I wasn’t questioning, just having a man-to-man conversation,” he says, walking out of the office.

“Mhm,” you say, rolling your eyes. He does this with each boyfriend you’ve brought home.

“Hi, handsome,” you greet Yoongi, holding out your hand for him to take. He dressed up for the occasion, wanting to impress. He succeeded.

“Hey, Blue,” he says, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks,” you peck him on the lips, brushing your thumb on his lips to get rid of the remaining lipstick.

“I heard that!” Your dad screams from the stairs with a laugh.

“Keep walking, old man,” you yell back, shaking your head with a smile.

Dinner was fun, and Yoongi felt like he was with family. Your family was very much like you, kind and accepting. Funny as hell, he smiled or laughed throughout most of the dinner. If he had to guess, he would’ve never known your dad was the CEO of a family company. He was very down to earth.

Not that he doubted, but your parents truly treated Jungkook as their own. The bunny hybrid has all of this family wrapped around his little finger. You grab his hand under the table and smile at him. He smiles back sincerely. He can see himself being part of this family for a long time. It heals the part of his broken heart that he thought was beyond repair.

“Let me go get dessert,” your mom announces, sanding from the table.

“I’ll help,” Yoongi pipes up, following the older lady to the kitchen.

“Now that I’ve got you here, I want to thank you,” your mom says as she cuts the chocolate cake you baked earlier.

“What for?” Yoongi asks, handing her the plates to place the cakes on.

“For helping our Jungkookie out,” she casually mentions.

Yoongi chokes on his own saliva, his mind going straight to him helping Jungkook through his heat. It was a given that it was something to keep to themselves. How close is Jungkook to his mom that he felt it was okay to tell her that Yoongi gave him not only a handjob but a blowjob? Furthermore, how can she be okay with her daughter’s boyfriend handing out favors like that to her son?

“He loves those damn vynils so much, he wouldn’t stop talking about how you gave him two limited edition ones,” she fondly laughs at her son.

“Oh, that. Yeah, no problem,” Yoongi sighs in relief. His spirit had left his body for a moment there.

“Let’s go before they start talking about the company. The dinner table is a no-work conversation zone,” your mom says, ushering Yoongi out of the kitchen as she hears her husband talking about numbers and beats.

○●○●○●○●○●

Tuesday, after dropping off lunch at your office Yoongi wanders to Hoseoks office, taking him up on his offer. He knocks, waiting for his new friend to open the door. Hoseok gives him a small tour of his studio and explains some of the newer equipment’s purposes to adjust Yoongi to the environment. Hoseok was right. This isn’t as intimidating as he’d thought. In fact, once he got the hang of it, inspiration returned to him.

“Go on, try and make a beat,” Hoseok encourages him. He already loves what Yoongi has to offer based on conversations alone. One of the reasons he left the company for a few months was for lack of inspiration. Although talented, none of the other producers offered something that spoke to him.

“I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Yoongi tells Hoseok, knowing he is imposing on his work schedule.

“I have a meeting now, actually. It should take about two hours. Have fun,” Hoseok says, picking up his jacket from a small sofa off to the corner. Without looking behind him, he leaves Yoongi alone in the studio. Looking at the closed door, Yoongi shrugs and puts on the headphones, working on a melody that has been bothering him for the past two years. Might as well.

Getting the hang of the equipment, he falls deep into a creative flow. He barely notices time go by. The piano notes carry him to new places in his mind as they fall into place in the track. It’s like a dam has been broken down. All he has flowing down at torrential speeds, with no one there to stop him.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump and tear the headphones from his ears. Heightened senses fail him as Hoseok stands behind him, looking amused at his startled expression.

“The meeting ran late. I thought you’d gone home. Are you okay?” Hoseok asks. His two-hour meeting turned into four. The project’s creators fell into discord about what creative direction they should take it.

“I’m okay. I didn’t notice it had been two hours,” Yoongi says, looking at his watch.

“It be like that sometimes,” Hoseok giggles. He’s found himself in that position before. Music tends to dominate the creator most times. “Want to show me what you got?”

Yoongi nods, turning on the chair to give Hoseok a pair of headphones. Hoseok expected something good but unpolished, considering Yoongi’s time away from producing. The first note of the track proves him wrong. Hoseok does not speak for the duration of the track taking in the masterpiece Yoongi created.

Hoseok is amazed Yoongi managed to inspire him more than most of the producers that work in the company. It’s raw and heartfelt, honest. It comes from a place of experience.

“You did this in four hours?” Hoseok asks, amazed.

“I mean, I’ve had part of the melody for years, but the rest, yeah,” Yoongi says nervously. Does Hoseok think it’s trash?

“It’s phenomenal. You have to consider joining the company!”

“Seriously?”

“Yoongi, you’ve got me feeling more with that track than I have in a good while,” Hoseok confesses.

Hoseok is boosting Yoongi’s confidence and ego. He forgot the effect his music can have on people. It’s addicting.

Someone interrupts them by knocking on the door and peaking their head in. It’s a wolf hybrid Yoongi recognizes. “Namjoon?”

“Hi, Yoongi!” The hybrid smiles widely, fist-bumping him.

“I see you two know each other,” Hoseok says, searching for the hard drive Namjoon came for.

“Yeah, Yoongi sometimes comes to the concerts and helps sell tapes,” Namjoon says.

“Well, his girlfriend recruited you,” Hoseok tells him.

“Blue recruited him?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“Yeah, she bought one of his tapes from your store and liked what he had to offer,” Hoseok explains, handing Namjoon the hard drive.

“She hunted me down until I said yes,” Namjoon laughs, remembering that moment from months ago.

“Can I ask about the conditions of working here? With us being hybrids and all?” Yoongi asks Namjoon. While Hoseok has helped him so much, he needs the insight of a hybrid who works at the company to fully convince him.

“I can honestly say this job is one of the few that treats their workers equally. So far, I haven’t had a single bad or sketchy situation. If you have an opportunity to join, take it! It’d be nice to have you on the music scene again.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi has much to consider, but the more time he spends here, the more convinced he is.

○●○●○●○●○●

“What would you say if I accepted your dad’s job offer?” Yoongi asks you one night while you are getting ready for bed.

“I’d say I’m thrilled and proud of you, Yoongs,” you grin at him through the mirror.

“You wouldn’t mind working with me?” He says as he walks up behind you, eyes locked on you through the reflection.

“Not at all,” you shake your head, “I know it might seem like too much, but I assure you we won’t see each other so much that it’ll come to that.”

You and Hoseok barely see each other in the office since you mostly work on different projects. While Hoseok is a producer, he is also an artist, so he mainly works on his own stuff. On the other hand, you work for female artists and girl groups.

“I’m more worried about you being sick of me,” he jokes, throwing an arm over your chest to pull you close to him.

“Don’t be. I love you. When I get sick of you will be the day hell freezes over,” you say, looking up at him.

“I want to work on something that will make you proud and won’t make you regret your decision,” he whispers. He wants to be successful for you. You deserve only the best.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Yoongi. No matter what you do, ill be proud of it, even if it’s a kid’s song about tomatoes.” You think there is nothing Yoongi can do to disappoint you.

“I don’t think the parents will appreciate my swearing,” he admits with a laugh, knowing how much he swears.

You laugh along, “Me either. Maybe that will set you apart from the competition. Oh! How about a cursing alphabet?!”

“You’re a genius,” Yoongi fake gasps, making you giggle. He sweetly kisses your cheek, “Let’s go to bed.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi hires a new employee for the Music Store in a matter of weeks and begins his new job. As you said, he doesn’t get to see you much, if only brief glimpses in the hallway before you get pulled away to a meeting or studio.

With Hoseoks and Namjoon’s help, he quickly gets the hang of everything in the studio. Currently, he’s a producer. He creates music he likes and collaborates with artists who want to use his songs.

It’s been smooth sailing; his supervisors and senior producers are happy with his efficiency and creativity. They often seek him out for input on work of their own. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

He delves into his work, giving it his all. It’s everything he ever wanted and more. But with that also comes pressure. Pressure to improve and better himself. Like he wants to upstage himself every day, and that takes time.

○●○●○●○●○●

A Saturday morning two months after Yoongi began working at the company, you wake up to your boyfriend sitting at your desk working away.

He can’t hear you, as you call him, because of the massive headphones over his ears. You let the sheets fall off your naked body and walk over to him, sitting on his lap.

“Morning, Blue,” he says, kissing your head and hugging your waist, preventing you from sliding off his lap. Yet his eyes stay trained on the computer.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, ignoring the computer to kiss his neck.

“Just finishing something up,” he sighs as his grip tightens on your hip.

“I was thinking we could go out today to the countryside, drive around and get some fresh air,” you suggest, brushing his hair away from his eyes. His cat ears flicker on the top of his head with the gesture.

“Give me an hour to finish this?” He asks, looking down at you.

“A kiss first,” you say.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a smile and leans down to press his lips against yours. You pull him closer by the neck, deepening the kiss. You’ve missed him. Now that he doesn’t work at the store, he doesn’t have as much time to spare.

You see each other every day, mainly in the mornings and late at night when he returns from work. You haven’t said anything about the matter giving him time to adjust to his new job and schedule.

“Alright, one hour,” you say, standing from his lap. Before you walk away, you feel a smack to your butt. “Hey!”

“Couldn’t resist,” Yoongi laughs as you rub your butt cheek to soothe the sting.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you pout, escaping to the bathroom.

Yoongi quickly got ready one hour later, and you both headed off to the countryside. Yoongi drives your car with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

“Is it everything you expected it to be?” You ask Yoongi about his job.

“It’s better than I ever thought, Blue. And I have you to thank,” he says, squeezing your thigh.

“I mean, I only cleared up a misunderstanding. You’re doing all the work, Mr. Genius,” you grin.

Everything you’ve heard about Yoongi has been good. As a company member, it makes you happy that he works there, and as his girlfriend, it makes you proud. Everyone can see how amazing he is, and he’s all yours.

“Tell me, what songs have I heard that you’ve worked on,” he asks you.

The day was yours to enjoy, and you did. You needed this time with Yoongi. You had been so used to spending so much time together that you missed him like crazy.

Yoongi needed this too you are his inspiration, after all.

○●○●○●○●○●

Yoongi taps his foot on the floor of the elevator. The company’s CEO, aka your dad, called him up to his office. He sounded normal on the phone not mad, so maybe it’s just a catch-up?

Still, his survival instincts tell him he’s in trouble and should run. He shoves them to the back of his head as the elevator dings and opens its doors.

The secretary tells him to go on ahead into the office. Your dad is there, ruffling through paperwork and signing documents.

“Yoongi, you’re here, good!”

“Is everything alright?” Yoongi asks, sitting on the edge of the seat.

“Yes and no,” he says, folding his hands on the desk.

“Oh?” Yoongi simply responds over the knot in his throat.

“Relax, Yoongi, it’s nothing too bad,” the man reassures him,” I really like that track you submitted, as did many of the artists.”

“Really?” Yoongi says with a small smile.

“Yes, the problem is no one has managed to capture it as well as you,” the CEO explains.

“I’m sorry. Should I continue working on it? Submit a new track?” Yoongi’s insecurity causes him to ramble and miss the CEO’s point.

“No, Yoongi. I was actually thinking of you performing them,” he explains.

“But I’m not an artist; I’m a producer.”

“That’s true, but there’s one step more to become an artist, only if you’d like that,” the man says, offering Yoongi what most would believe is a promotion.

“You want me to be an artist?” Yoongi questions, did he hear right?

“Yes, much like Hoseok or Namjoon. You already have this track, and I know you’ve been working on others with those you can create an album,” the man suggests encouragingly. “What do you say?”

“What if people don’t like me?” Yoongi wonders.

“We can do a test, arrange for you to open for Hoseok’s show, and get a feel of the vibe,” your dad says.

“I’ll do it,” Yoongi nods, “Thank you, sir.”

○●○●○●○●○●

Depending on who you ask, the CEO’s decision was both good and bad. For Yoongi, it’s a dream come true. After he performed his single in Hoseok’s concert, it was clear that most loved the song and the passion Yoongi brought to the stage. You were in the crowd, cheering him on louder than anyone.

But with great power comes great responsibility. If Yoongi was a workaholic as a producer, he’s even more so as an artist working on his new album. He feels the need to prove a point and create a near-perfect album.

His days and nights are spent at the studio, and whenever he’s not there, he’s also at home working.

You have supported him every step, offering him advice when he asks. You make sure he eats at least two meals a day and sleeps a few hours a day.

As the weeks go by, it’s like your relationship has been on the back burner and is no longer a priority. You let it pass, knowing this is important to Yoongi. He’ll snap out of it soon enough.

As five o’clock comes around one Friday night, you go to Yoongis studio. You both get off work at the same time maybe you could go home together as well. Yoongi has been staying till nearly midnight in the studio this whole week and leaving home stupidly early. The only indication that he slept with you being the kisses on the forehead he gives you when he gets home.

You knock on the door in case he is in a meeting, but his voice lets you know you can go in. He’s slouched in his rolling chair as a beat replays on the speakers.

“You okay, Yoongs?” You ask, having the feeling that he’s not.

“Frustrated,” he says pointedly over the music.

Coming up behind him, you hug him as best you can. He grabs one of your arms around him and kisses the back of your hand.

“Take a break from it,” you say, “Let’s go home. You can come back Monday.”

“I can’t, Blue. I’m so close to finishing it,” Yoongi responds.

That seems to be his usual excuse nowadays ‘it’s almost done,’ and yet it’s not a lie. Yoongi just has a problem with self-control. As soon as he finishes a track, he starts another one.

Taking a more straightforward approach, you push his chair away from the desk, turning him around to face you. “You’re taking a break, Yoongi.”

“I don’t know, Blue,” he says, unconvinced.

“Yoongi, please,” you beg, sitting on his lap, “I need you,” you whisper in his ear.

Those words alone are enough to get Yoongi fired up. Guilt also seeps into his bones as he knows he’s neglected you a little. It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve last been together, a rare occurrence. At a certain point in you’re relationship, you had sex every day of the week. He comes to the conclusion he has to pleasure you here and now. He can’t leave his Blue like this for another second.

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you close to kiss you. The kiss soon turns frantic with wet tongues and harsh bites. Yoongi’s hand leaves your hip as the other caresses one of your thighs. Slowly it stops at your knee and gently forces it apart to trail his hand under your skirt. He first squeezes the inside of your thigh, eliciting a soft moan from your swollen lips. With his index and middle finger, he presses your center over the thin material of your underwear. Yoongi works his fingers around the area, feeling the wetness seep out of you.

“More,” you sigh over his pink lips. Pulling your panties to the side, he traces your outer lips with his fingers making you needier by the second. A series of begs come out of your mouth, urging him to fuck you with his fingers at least. Light as a feather, he touches your sopping center up and down, toying with your clit. Your hips twitch the slightest bit, pleasing him beyond extremes. He loves to see you struggle.

Dragging his index finger down your folds, he pushes his finger in. He groans into your mouth, forgetting how oh-so-tight you are. “Yes, Yoongi, just like that,” you sensually moan as he moves his finger in and out. Soon he adds another finger, and he feels as if his fingers almost suffocate with how tightly your gripping them. “Fuck Blue, such a tight pussy. Will you be able to take my cock?”

“I can do it, Yoongi,” You whine, laying your head on his shoulder. Yoongi scissors his fingers, stretching you out. He can’t wait to be inside of you. His cock becomes rock hard, straining under his tight jeans at the thought of using your pussy. How could he let so much time pass? He’s an idiot.

“You should cum over my fingers first,” he murmurs, using his thumb to rub her clit in fast circles. It’s his goal to make her cum around his fingers first. Feel her walls pulse and tighten even more.

You squirm on top of him, chasing your release. With a few more thrusts of his curling fingers, you become undone. Your body uncontrollably tenses on top of him, your teeth biting at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, causing him to moan. He hates to admit he likes that more than expected.

“Good girl, Blue,” Yoongi tells her, pulling his fingers out of her and spreading them to see the slickness between them. Your eyes watch as he places his fingers in his mouth and sucks them clean.

“Fuck,” you moan out at the erotic sight. You need his cock now. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, you undo the zipper of your skirt and let it fall to the ground, along with your shirt. Next goes your bra and panties, which you throw with your foot in his direction. He is quick to catch them and stuff them in his pocket. It might not be the first time he sees you wholly naked, but what a sight you are. Standing as you came into the world in his studio confidently, you have curves in all the right places and perky tits with pink nipples topping them off.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” You say with a wicked grin.

“You’re perfect.” not the first and hopefully not the last time Yoongi grabs his phone and snaps a picture. It doesn’t beat the real deal, but it does get him off whenever you’re not around.

Not wanting to be left behind, Yoongi removes his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion. To tease your needy ass, he takes his time unbuttoning his jeans while keeping his eyes focused on you. You’re biting your lip and playing with one of your nipples as he does. Finally, he eliminates the last layer of clothing, leaving him bare in front of you. You moan at the sight of him. His cock big and thick, a vein running along its length, and his tip almost red. Wetness coats your thighs, your mind plays too many scenarios to comprehend.

Both take rapid steps towards the other and meet in the middle with a searing kiss with tongues twisting together in a dance. You roam your hands over his arms, pecs, and toned stomach. His black tail brushes against your side at the same time. Sneakily you grab his cock in your hands, pumping it a few times. Yoongi gasps, breaking their kiss as you touch his sensitive head, spreading his precum on his length. He leads you to the small leather couch in his office and makes you straddle him. “Are you ready, Blue?” He asks, rubbing his tip back and forth on your slit, getting it wet with your slick.

“Just do it, please,” you beg, touching his shoulders. Yoongi lines his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes you down on him. You feel inch after inch entering you. You missed the feeling of him stretching you out. All you can do is hold onto his strong shoulders and moan.

Yoongi has to concentrate hard on not finishing too soon. The way your warm walls feel around him is excruciatingly good. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins to slowly and deeply thrust up into you. “That’s it, Blue. Take it all,” he groans.

“Fuck, Yoongi feels so good. I missed you,” you sob into his ear.

The room is humid, with sounds of moans and the slapping of skin. Yoongi picks up the pace, moving your hips to the rhythm he set to fuck harder into you. You bounce on top of him, sweat trailing down your neck and into your chest. Leaning forward, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling repeatedly. He swears he can feel you get wetter as it coats his cock and the top of his thighs.

“You’re driving me insane, Blue.” He’s losing control. There is no way he’s lasting much longer. The closer he gets, the more irregular his thrusts become. With his fingers digging into your hips, he shoots his load inside you as you moan at the sensation of being filled. It warms you up, and with his cock still inside you, you feel full and satisfied. You don’t care at the moment you didn’t get to finish, you relish being this close to Yoongi.

Yoongi lays limp under her for a second, eyes scrunched and teeth biting his lower lip. You spread kisses on his jaw and neck, leaving little marks behind that will fade by morning. His skin is sweaty yet delicious as you lick up the column of his neck. Tugging his lip away from his teeth, you softly kiss him, lips slotting together flawlessly.

Being the gentleman he is, Yoongi unexpectedly gets up, wraps your legs around him, and sits you on his desk. He pulls out of you and observes his seed seeping out of your pink pussy. Kneeling on the floor, he then licks up your slit. You cry out from the sudden pleasure and sink your fingers in his hair, causing him to purr. Locking eyes with you, he pushes his tongue into you, tasting a mix of you and him. He rubs your clit as he licks until you can barely speak.

“O-oh my g-god, kitty,” you mewl, tilting your head back and propping yourself up with a hand before you collapse on the control panel.

The way your body reacts assures Yoongi you’re close. Speeding up his movements, his lips wrap around your clit and suck. Finally, as you climax, he bites down gently on your bundle of nerves amplifying whatever you were feeling before. With toes curled and no control of your body, you push Yoongi away before you pass out from the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you look at Yoongi and begin laughing, “That was fucking great.”

“I had to make up for lost time,” Yoongi chuckles, standing between your legs and hugging you.

“Let’s go home?” You plead with your eyes.

“Let’s go home, Blue,” he says, playing with a strand of your hair.

○●○●○●○●○●

You give your keys to your car to the valet and walk into the fancy restaurant. Your parents had invited you to dinner to catch up, Yoongi was supposed to come but last minute, said he couldn’t because he had a lot going on.

What you hoped was only a phase has become routine. Too many times, Yoongi has canceled on you or stood you up. He sleeps in your apartment but gets home exhausted and barely speaks to you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

You thank the waiter as he pulls your chair out for you and pushes you in. Your parents are already sitting with a glass of wine.

“How are you, honey?” Your mom asks sweetly.

“I’m okay,” you respond, trying to pretend you are okay when in reality, you’re not yourself.

You never wanted to become the girl dependent on her boyfriend. You like to believe you’re not her. Then why is Yoongi’s absence affecting you so much? You’re known at work for your cheery, happy songs, yet all you’ve written for the past few weeks have been sad songs. They are bangers, but not what your artists require.

As soon as you walked in, your mom knew something was off. You’re not carrying yourself as you usually do, your shoulders are slumped, and you’re looking down at the ground as you walk.

“Where’s Yoongi? I thought he was coming.” She asks, immediately knowing the problem.

“He had a lot going on in the studio,” you repeat his excuse, swirling the wine served in your glass.

“I must say he has exceeded all expectations. I expect his album to be a hit,” your dad says excitedly, none the wiser.

“I’m happy to hear that. He’s so worried over it and is overworking himself,” you force a smile, “Just now, Yoongi was saying he was behind on a track.”

“Behind? Yoongi is ahead of schedule. I’ve told him to take a break,” your dad scoffs, looking over the menu.

“What?” You ask, meeting his gaze. All this time, he’s been telling you he’s behind. It’s one of the reasons you haven’t confronted him. You want him to do well, after all.

“At the speed he’s going, we can release his album two months before scheduled,” your dad shrugs.

“Good,” you say dryly.

Immediately after dinner, you rush back into the studio, finding Yoongi still holed up there. You slam the door open, startling him. He looks at you up and down, seeing you all dressed up, beautiful.

“How was dinner?” He asks, turning back around to face the screen. Missing your response, he turns back around, “What’s wrong?”

“Two months ahead? What the fuck, Yoongi?” You yell at him, arms crossed over your chest.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, standing from his chair to come closer to you.

With each step he takes forward, you take one back, “Your album. My dad just told me you’re ahead of schedule.”

“Well, yeah, but there is still so much work to do,” Yoongi responds sincerely as if there’s nothing wrong with his confession.

“I’ve let you do as you pleased, thinking you were still adapting, getting used to the industry, but you’ve been holed up in here, ignoring me because you want to?” You ask him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your throat.

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” he shakes his head, trying to reach out to you.

“Yoongi, when was the last time we went on a date? Hell, the last time we had breakfast together?” You ask him, knowing it’s been far too long.

Yoongi stays silent, confirming your thoughts. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he was hired.

“Exactly, I can’t even remember when we had a proper conversation that wasn’t about work,” you say, frowning. You tried to ignore all the red flags but no more. This isn’t good for you or him.

“Blue, you don’t understand,” he begins saying.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You yell as your fists clench at your sides, “Min Yoongi, I’ve been working here for far longer than you have, and I have never once made you a second priority. I’ve always made time for you and checked up on you. My life is not my job; it’s only part of it. I understand this is your dream, and I want it for you so badly, Yoongi. I’ve been rooting for you all this time, and I still am. But I didn’t know that in achieving your dream, you would give me up. I want you to succeed, and I want to be by your side when you do. I want to be there for you in your new life, in your ups and downs. I want to be a part of us. But if you can’t commit to me, if you don’t let me be there for you, then what are we even doing?” Your eyes are welled with tears when you finish speaking. You refuse to let them fall.

You stand there vulnerable, letting Yoongi into your thoughts, and all he says is, “This is what I’ve always wanted, Blue.”

This. Not Us. Yoongi doesn’t want you that much is clear.

You don’t have any more fight in you. You’re tired of waiting on him. If he doesn’t want you, why stay?

“If you let me walk out, I’m not coming back.”

You turn around, walking toward the door. Yoongi stays quiet through it all. He thinks this is for the best. You are right, he’s been neglecting you. It’s not fair for either of you. He hates seeing you go, he loves you with all he has, but this is his one chance. The only opportunity to make everything right.

You beg for him in your head to call out your name. All you want is for Yoongi to stop you and make you stay. You could go home together and forget all of this happened. It’s Yoongi’s choice, and he chose to see you close the door behind you.

To think tomorrow was your first anniversary.

END OF PART 1

PART 2 COMING SOON

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[imrllytootiredforthis]

Pretty~

Pairing: Lee know x Felix x reader

Summary: You and Lix punish Lino for playing with what wasn’t his

Warnings: fem!reader, dom!reader, sub!lee know, slight switch!felix (mostly sub), mommy kink, pegging, oral (m recieving), handjob, choking, praise kink, degradation, slight objectification, cum eating, ropeplay, probably more that i missed

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Straight porn, literally no plot. 18+ minors DNI. 

“Doesn’t he look so pretty kitten?” Felix whimpers, your warm breath tickling his ear and the side of his face. “Such a pretty little thing to defile and use just like a toy.”

He gulps loudly, shifting in place in an attempt the hide his growing hard-on. 

“Isn’t that right, Lix?”

Your hand snakes around waist, slipping under the loose shirt he wears, pressing cold fingers against beating heart. 

It thumps erratically at your touch, skipping as you close more of the distance between your bodies, pressing your chest up against his back. “Yeah,” He breathes, biting back a moan. “Looks so pretty, mommy.”

“Yeah.” You affirm, almost teasingly.

A chill runs through his body as your hand rubs lower on stomach, gliding between the dips of his abs and sliding lower to the waistband of his pants. “Mommy, will I get to play with him today?” 

A small smile slips across your face. “Maybe kitten. That depends on how good you are.” Icy touches slip just a bit lower, palming him over his sweats, leaving just enough pressure there for him to take a sharp breath, letting his eyes slip shut.

And then you’re gone and his eyes fly open.

You lean over towards the other boy, tied up in red ropes, accenting his skin in a contrast that nearly has you groaning from just a simple look. “And it depends how good Minnie decides to be.”

“What do you think about that Minnie?” You brush his hair back as holds back a whine, trying to appear cool and composed. “Want Lixie to use you? Want Lixie to turn you into nothing more than a cheap slut?”

He pushes against the ropes, straining as if that might make them disappear or heaven forbid-break them. “If that means things are actually gonna get good. Right now it seems like you’re all bark, no bite” He groans, cockily albeit weakly.

Eyeing the way his cock twitches, you smile at him, “Really?” You brush your hands down his bare body, leaving goosebumps in your wake. “Is that really how you feel, bunny?” 

The steel in your tone has him recoiling, backtracking his words, unsure. “I-i mean...”

Your voice drops to a whisper, leaning in to whisper it almost conspiratorially into his ear. “Just answer the question. Yes or no?”

He shakes his head. “No.” But the tone betrays the words, coming out almost a squeak.

This only further extends your amusement, fingers gliding along the edge of his jaw. “Really?” You repeat that godforsaken word once more, aggravating him further, testing how far you can push him. “You see, I could’ve sworn that you wanted this. You must’ve known what doing that would get you.” He shakes his head trying to deny it. “Remind me again-what you did bunny?”

He gives no reply, pausing his struggle to look away in embarrassment. “I didn’t do anything.” He mumbles and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at his theatrics.

He grunts again, struggling in a way that’s all show, no try. “Lix, kitten?” You call. Your sweet boy hums behind you, coming when called like the good little kitty he is. 

“Yes mommy?”

With a sigh you turn to him, smile widening at the way his eyes somehow look up at you despite being basically the same height as him. “You’re my good boy, right?”

He nods quickly, melting into your soft touch as you run your thumb over his face. Starting at his temple, down his cheekbone, across the dusting of freckles and over his lips, pulling away just as his mouth falls open. 

He whines but the noise quickly cuts off at the sharp warning look in your eye and turns into a sigh as you push him onto an empty spot on the bed, legs opening in wait of whatever touch you would decide to gift him with. 

From the corner of your eye you see Minho pause, just for a second in pure need. Pure and unfiltered lust to be in the place that Felix is now.

“Yeah, kitten.” You speak, voice a rasp. “Such a good boy for me.” He bites his lip, entranced in you; by your voice and your touch and your scent and your presence; so utterly intoxicating. “Can my good boy remind me what the naughty bunny did to earn him his punishment?”

You glance to Minho, finding him looking right back at you, desperation and competition glittering in his gaze.

Two sides rivalling in what he wants more. 

To listen to you, be broken down and given pleasure, be used as nothing more than a toy and be spoken to like one, just the way he likes. 

Or to listen to his pride, continue to behave like this-like he doesn’t want whatever you’re planning to do. Be denied over and over until finally, he’d give into you.

Really, it was just a waiting game.

And it didn’t help that your patience was wearing thin.

You look back down to Felix, who’s glancing over to his tied up hyung as well. “W-well, Minnie...”

“Yes, what did Minnie do?” You prompt, guiding his face back to look at you, he whines under the gaze, thrusting up into empty air.

“Minnie t-touched me without your per-permission.” His cheeks flooded with colour, in embarrassment or perhaps in shame of his previous actions, fidgeting with his hands and working his bottom lip with his teeth.

You nod, fake sympathy playing on your face. “Yeah. The naughty little bunny tried to play with what was mine, didn’t he?”

Now that the initial words came out, it was a spew, voice growing in pitch as the flow of Minho’s crimes came to the light. 

“Y-yeah! Was just cleaning up! Being a good boy for you, mommy!” You nod, biting back a smile at how adorable he was, a comical pout and flying hands as he grew more and more distressed. 

“A-and then Minnie! Minnie came out and said he wanted to play! Lix sa-said no! Lix said no mommy!”

You cradled his face in your arms, “Shh, shh, it’s okay kitten, you’re not in trouble.” You coo, watching over his shoulder at the way the boy in question turned redder and redder at the confession. 

“B-but then! Then Min started to play with me! Lix wanted to be good for mommy, tried so hard! Just felt so good mommy! Lixie’s sorry, so sorry!”

His hands gripped onto your hips, holding them for dear life as he apologized, trying to pull you closer to him.

But if you were being honest, you didn’t really care about what Felix had done. 

99% of the time he was an obedient thing. A good boy down to his very being, through and through, doing anything he possibly could to make you happy. 

The only time he ever disobeyed your rules was when Minho pulled him into something, which very rarely he successfully managed to. Even then though, just seeing you look at him with disappointment in your eyes was enough punishment to make the poor thing even start crying at times.

Your sweet little thing.

The one that got your nicer side. Sweet and comforting, cooing and doting. Kind words and even kinder praises, filled with love and velvety touches.

Minho however, Minho was an entirely different story. 

He loved to push buttons and loved to pull Felix into his ploys, coercing the younger boy into them as well when he can. He loved to piss you off and loved the punishment that would come after that.

Oh, how he loved it when you were cruel. Venom leaking into every word, he loved it-craved it. How you looked down at him like he was nothing. How you’d call him a toy and a slut and every other depraved word your twisted mind could come up with. 

You could be nice or you could be cruel.

And it seemed that tonight you’d need to be both for them.

You brushed Felix’s hair back with a warm look in your eye. “It’s okay baby, shh, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He looks up at you with big sad eyes and you smile sweetly. “Really?”

“Of course kitten. I am, however, upset at bunny here.” Your attention turns to him for a brief moment. “What do you think his punishment should be, baby? For breaking my rules and making me angry?”

He looks at Minho, then back at you and you can see the answer forming in his mind before he leans up to you, whispering so that only you can hear his words.

Your smirk grows, nodding along and he pulls away, looking up at you as you work the plan over in your head. 

“What?” Your tone is scandalized, speaking as if you weren’t laughing inside. 

“Lixie, since when did you become such a filthy little thing?” Pushing him back to lay onto the bed, embarrassment crawls up his neck at your patronizing tone. “Disgusting,” you murmur, crawling on top of him, legs on either side of his slim waist. 

“Gross.” A raspy comment thats only reply is a moan as you place two of your fingers under his chin, making him look at you, attention falling across his unmarked neck, a smooth canvas of pale skin and scattered freckles. 

Your lips find their way up his collarbone, tracing the dots with your tongue and teeth, biting, sucking, marking. Smirking as his breathy whines become apparent, loud and clear in the silence.

Felix blushes, head falling back to give you more access, mouth falling wide open. 

“Sinful.” It was all too much and all too little as you pulled the waistband down, just low enough for his cock to spring out before swiping your thumb over his tip. 

He threw his head back, a loud, unrestricted moan reverberating deep in his throat. “So mean.” Your hand forces his chin, prying his mouth open to slip your middle and pointer finger as he’s forced to look at Minho. “You think he can take that? The poor little slut, just wants to be fucked dumb but don’t you think it’ll be too much for him?”

His moan is garbled as are the words that follow after it. “Mi-minnie can take it.” His words are determined as his eyes grow unfocused, a faraway look clouding them, drool dripping down his jaw, coating your hand in his saliva. 

His tongue swirls around your fingers, lapping at them all while trying to gasp for air around them, eyes falling shut. 

“Oh can he now?”

Your words. Your touches, burning, scorching his skin, heating his body up from head to toe. 

He so sensitive it hurts. 

Every sound. Your pants, heaving air into your lungs between intervals of kisses, the sound of your tongue working against him, the feel of it, warm and wet, right in the places that you know will turn him on so much. 

The feel of your hand, gripping him, using the leaking pre-cum, already a mess and leaking through his pants as lube. The other gripping his jaw tightly, pressing down on the muscle as he tries to pull it deeper, trying to pull you closer to him.

His cock is so hard, leaking and throbbing from your touch, from Minho’s earlier touch. Fuck, he wants to come so bad he’s afraid he might actually come in no time.

Humiliation runs cold down his spine but he likes it. He’s already so hard. He’s already so close. So close and you’ve done practically nothing. You just started touching his cock, it’s been less than a minute and he feels as if he could cum from this alone.

From you lightly stroking his dick. From your lips on his neck and your fingers in his throat.

He’s only vaguely aware that Minho is still in the room. 

But when he opens his eyes they meet his. Wide and wanting now that you’re distracted with something else. Fixating intently on you-your hands, your mouth.

“So you’re just gonna make me watch?” He sneers, voice slightly shaking in a way that makes him cringe. 

But it’s okay because it seems that neither you nor Felix seem to notice-in fact neither of you even seem to register that he had spoken. 

He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse than you looking over him with a sadistic smile and condescending eyes, telling him to simply shut up as if he were a toddler having a tantrum.

And he almost wishes that that was the case as the both of you continue, Felix moaning out high, whiny noises while you groan into his neck. Your hand still works against him, gaining in speed, faster and faster. 

“This d-doesn’t seem like much of a punishment at a-ll.”

No response, just the lewd, wet noises filling the room, running straight to his cock as he bucks into the air, letting out a sob of frustration at the inevitable unsatisfaction at the motion.

“C-c’mon, you-you aren’t even trying~” He whines, once again straining against the ropes, whimpering. “You th-think that this is even doing anything-”

“S-shut up, slut.”

To his surprise, it’s not you who says the harsh words that make him shudder, full-bodied, falling rigid, a moan spilling out from deep in his chest. 

It’s Felix.

Felix who looks at him, pupils blown wide and mouth fallen open, heaving small pants alongside cute little whines.

Felix who’s always been soft and pliable. Submissive even to Minho.

Felix who’s never ever said anything remotely mean, much less degraded him before, but now that he has, Minho can’t help the effects that it’s having on his body.

You chuckle, pulling away with a contented sigh to look at the boy beside you. “Oh, that work you up bunny?” You reach over, hands leaving Felix with a whimper. “Lixie here degrading you?”

His head’s gone foggy, dazed and he can barely register your hand cupping his cheek with a wet hand until he’s melting into the touch, shoving his face further into the contact, desperate for any form of touch at this point. “Yes.”

At the confession you bite your lip, opposite hand trailing down, admiring the art of the ropes against his skin. They’re tight, tight enough to leave slight marks, to let him feel them, squeezing, pressing down into his skin in the most maddening ways. 

They’re not tight enough to do any real damage. Just tight enough that tomorrow he’ll look in the mirror, fingers tracing tender red skin, moaning at the sensitivity of pressing down on them.

Finally you begin to circle his buds, already hardened into peaks. “You love it when I tell you how much of a slut you are, corrupting sweet little Lixie until he says it too.”

At his name, he begins to paw at your hips, begging for your attention once more. “Mommy~” When you don’t react his hands slip up your shirt, travelling to your boobs. “Mommy, pay attention to me.”

But still, you continue to play with Minho. 

He makes no reaction at your motions, biting down on his lip hard as to not let a single noise out. “C’mon Minnie, let mommy hear your pretty noises.” You coo, tracing your nails around his pretty pink nipples, before coming to pinching them, twisting them between your fingers.

“Mommy, Lix can make pretty noises for you, Lix will let you hear him.” He whimpers, fiddling with the clasp in a second of struggle before slipping off your bra.

Your mouth replaces your fingers on his chest, latching around one of his hardened nipples, nipping on it lightly with your teeth before sucking, coaxing and encouraging him to let you hear the noises ready on his tongue. 

Yet he continues to be stubborn. All that can be heard is his heavy breathing as his hands move in an effort to grip your hair, the ropes restricting him so all he can do is clench them fisting around nothing so hard his knuckles turn white.

Felix throws your bra somewhere forgotten on the floor and begins to grope at your body, maneuvering to shove your shirt up for access to your chest. “Please mommy,” He tries once more in a pitiful whine, grinding your hips down onto him before licking up from navel to clavicle.

“Please,” He begs, plush lips sucking a mark onto your cleavage, groping at your boobs just the way you taught him to. You let out a deep moan, the sound vibrating through you and straight to where you’re connected to Minho and finally-finally his exterior breaks. 

He moans and that’s just the beginning. His hips jump wildly off the bed, back lifting in a vain attempt to arch, head falling back as a spew of curses and broken whines tumble out of his red, bitten lips.

You pull away from him with a wet pop and a satisfied smirk, continuing with your fingers, the area now wet with your spit.

And at last, you refocus your attention back on Felix. 

“Been such a good boy for me, Lix.” You groan, his hands warm and soft against your skin, cupping your breasts, squeezing them softly, whining at the way your hips rolled down onto his. 

Soon he began to gain confidence in the movements, growing slightly rougher and less gentle, pinching and rolling your hard buds between his fingers, ripping a hiss from you.

“Such a good boy, mommy thinks you deserve a reward. Want a reward kitten?”

He nods but his attention isn’t fully on you until you’re gripping his wrists, breaking the fixation. 

“Want to play with Minnie?”

His eyes grow wide at the prospect, pink tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “Can I?” He asks with an airy lilt, looking over to him.

“Yeah baby, you can. Take off your clothes and do me a favour and go mommy’s strap.”

He pounces off the bed in a scrambled rush to carry out the order and you have to bite back a smile before turning your attention back to the one left behind. “What do you think of that? Want us to play with you bunny?”

He shivers when your hands ghosts over his dick, nail trailing down a vein, moaning unabashedly. “Yeah, you like the idea of that huh?”

He slowly nods and you test the ropes, slipping a finger under one on his inner thigh, relishing in the groan he emits. “Gonna have take all these off though.” You pout in faux disappointment. “Look so pretty with them on, but with what Lix has planned for you, well we’re gonna need a little more...access.”

You reach over to the bedside table as Felix comes up behind you, bare and with the harness in hand. You pick up the pair of scissors you had set there earlier. “So we’re just gonna cut them off of you.”

His heart races faster and his hands grow sweaty, in lust or in nerves he can’t tell as you snip the scissors once, a metallic sound that sends goosebumps down his spine.

“Just stay still for me, okay? Yeah.”

And like that, the cruel facade is gone. Concentration is set across your face and he wonders at how fast you switch between the two masks.

The one that loves to torture him, make him moan and calls him filthy names; and the one that loves to hold him, praise him, whispers to him sweetly and makes him feel safe.

You’re carefully sliding the scissors under the rope, slowly, and tenderly, checking in on him whenever he shivers from the cool feel of it against his feverish skin.

It takes less than half a minute, only a few necessary strands having to be cut to have the whole thing falling apart, but it feels as if its longer.

Every time he trembles. 

Tensing at each new spot, as the sharp point of them grazes his skin before slipping under the knots. Relaxing when your eyes meet his, pausing the movements to reassure him before continuing, dropping your hard exterior for the moment to take extra care for this.

If anything, it makes him all the harder. The intimacy of it. The trust in you he has, the trust of the blade, despite only being scissors pressing nearly into his skin to get under the cords. The coax of your voice, calming and comforting that it even has Lix, not even under your ministrations falling deeper until he’s whining and you’re fixing him with a glare, telling him to stop distracting you.

And when you’re done, he’s throbbing, fully hard as you pull the ropes out from around and under his body, lifting his limbs gently for better access. 

He knows both you and Felix can tell, shame running down his spine at the quip clearly seen on Lix’s lips, a scolding from you the only thing holding it from being released. 

A hot tension fills the room, he swears the heaters have been turned up as you tell Felix to put the harness on you and he does, dropping to his knees for what he calls better ‘access’.

He feels like mush, melted into the mattress. He doesn’t feel like he can get up or even move until you place a hand under his chin, encouraging him to look up at you. “You done for now or do you still wanna continue?”

You give him a minute to fully contemplate the choice before he’s slowly nodding, glowing in the warm smile you give him. “You sure bun? It’s okay if you need a break.”

You place a hand on his cheek and he nuzzles against it. ”M’ sure. Wanna keep going.”

“Okay then.” And the facade is back up. You’re digging your nails into his jaw, dragging a low groan from him. “Lixie, you wanna prepare me or do you want Minnie here too?”

He doesn’t say anything. He feels clumsy, giddy, like he can’t fully control his body like he normally would. But the answer is obvious as he drops onto the floor.

The hardwood is uncomfortable against his knees, hardly cushioning but it’s the very last thing on his mind at the moment. 

Because the way you smile down at him, towering over him with a malicious aura has him drooling, nearly vibrating in excitement. 

You tap the dildo against his pretty pink lips, patiently waiting with a wicked gleam in your eye as he opens his mouth, eyes falling shut and tongue lolling out with an exaggerated flourish for your own benefit.

“Aw, so cute.” You whisper, giving him no time to reply as take the roots of his hair in hand, clenching it in a grip as you swiftly shove it into his mouth. 

It’s girthy with fake but realistic veins to match. He struggles to wrap his lips around the whole thing. But the poor thing’s trying, putting in his best efforts and the sight is such an arousing visual, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter from simply watching.

He’s never done this before and that only heightens the experience. 

He’s watched it countless of times when you’ve forced Minho to his knees, but Felix himself has never been subjected to such a treatment before. 

Never asked to is more like it. He remembers, early of the three of your’s relationship, you preparing the strap and right before you began to lube it up. 

He clearly recalls the blush across his face as Minho in all of his tough front turning red and shyly asking if he could prepare it for you.

And clearly, oh so clearly, he could remember the sadistic smirk that crossed your face as you agreed-or wait-was he just getting that confused with now as you looked down at him, beginning to get impatient with the way he was oh so obviously struggling to take the whole thing. 

So impatient that you decide to help him out, using the leverage you have with the grip in his hair to finish it with one quick push, all the way in, nudging against the back of his throat.

He gags around it, tears welling up in his eyes. “What do you think, kitten? You enjoying this?” Giving an experimental thrust he can’t help but moan. 

You turn to Minho who is trying his very best to not touch himself, trying not to make you angrier than you already are at him. “What do you think, Minnie? Doesn’t he look so good gagging on my cock, maybe prettier than you are~”

“N-no!” He pouts at the quip but watches on with a lust-filled interest. “Look at him, Lix can barely take it all in! M’ so much better at it than he is!” You let him go and he gasps for air, leaving just the tip in his mouth for just a moment before giving another experimental thrust.

His hands fly to the back of your thighs, gripping them and using them to push it in harder and harder, quicker and quicker, lodging the strap deep into the back of his throat. “Oh but look, he’s doing so good, aren’t you Lix?” 

He holds himself there for a moment, moaning around it at the compliment, at the feel of it so deep down his throat. “I don’t remember you being this good your first time Min.” You tease, brushing a finger over the slight bulge on his neck, biting your lip. “Look how good he’s taking it, like he was made for it.” You purr, finally pulling all the way out. 

He splutters, coughing and trying to collect himself, slightly wheezing and sniffling, tears running freely down his cheeks. But finally he looks back up at you, mouth falling open, ready for you to go again.

But you don’t, instead you push his chin up. “Ready?”

He nods, jumping up off the floor and ungracefully onto the bed, sliding up to the headboard. You laugh at his eagerness. “Flip over now Min.”

Minho bobs his head, impatient after such a show and flips over onto his stomach, uncoordinatedly lifting himself onto his hands and knees and spreading them just the way you always tell him to. 

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna suck on Lixie’s cock while I fuck you from behind,” You lean over his back, thumbing over his hole. “Can you do that for me, or you still too dumb to follow orders correctly?”

His breathing grows heavier, your voice along with the way Felix sits in front of him, legs spreading to show him his dick, all red and hard, leaking pre. He wants to reply, tries to, but all that can come out is a pitiful whine.

“Oh, that’s okay bunny, just open your mouth like a good toy and Lix will do the rest, won’t you baby?”

“Yes mommy!” He replies, chipper in his reply as always, putting a hand on the back of Minho’s head, threading his fingers into his hair.

Slowly, you push into him, watching as his hole gives and adjusts to girth and length of the strap, already all lubed up with Lix’s spit. 

It’s so mind boggling hot. The view, the sounds. Listening as he whines brokenly, hips stuttering, brain scrambling trying to figure out whether he should push back into you or pull away.

You put a single hand onto his shoulder, pressing him back into you, feasting on the way he slides, pulling, swallowing the strap until the full length in deep inside of him and he’s moaning loudly, arms already wobbling where they’re holding him up on the bed.

You bring a hand forward, squeezing the boy’s jaw until he opens, slipping two fingers in to wet them before pulling away. 

“Go ahead, baby.”

It’s so fucking hot. All heavy panting and husky moans as Felix lines his cock up with hyung’s mouth, pushing in slowly. “C’mon baby, remember what he did earlier?”

You watch with a bated breath and pulsing ache as he gasps, slightly arching from what you assume is Minho’s tongue swirling around his tip and you wonder if he’s moving slowly truly for Minho’s sake or for his own and how sensitive he is.

“Remember Lixie? This is his punishment. His punishment for playing with my things without asking for permission. No need to be gentle with him.” At your words, Felix groans. “C’mon, kitten.” And finally he’s letting out a helpless whimper and suddenly, with no preamble using Minho’s hair to shove himself all the way down his throat, moaning out loudly as he bottoms out in his throat. 

His mouth is so tight and warm and wet. It drives him utterly insane, his hips thrusting erratically, mewling out in pleasure. “Mommy-mommy please, w-wanna kiss, please.”

You smile at your sweet boy, leaning over Minho’s back to press a quick kiss to his lips, unintentionally but not ungratefully pressing the tip of the fake cock right into his prostate.

Minho’s eyes widen, moaning around the cock sheathed down his throat, in turn having Felix moan against your lips, hand frantically searching for anything to find purchase on, finally landing on your shoulders, holding you in place against him as you desperately lick into his mouth.

Wet, lewd sounds of skin-on-skin echo around the room as you rock your hips into him, jostling him higher on the bed, farther onto Felix’s thrusting hips until you fall into a rhythm.

And poor Lix feels dizzy with pleasure, hips moving at their own will. Your tongue in his mouth, Minho moaning below him, choking and gagging on his dick, moving at his own pace without so much of his junior even having to guide him anymore. 

“Y-yes-please.” He whispers in a cry, the words immediately swallowed into your mouth, before you’re pulling away and he’s whining from the loss as you focus your efforts back onto rolling your hips into the boy below you.

“Harder, please, harder,” Minho whines, pulling off of him just for a second to say the words. Then you’re shoving his head back down, brushing Lix’s hand aside, replacing it with your own to control his movements. 

 He arches his hips, encouraging you to fuck him harder, deeper. And you do with more fervour, slamming his hips against the swell of his ass. “Toys don’t talk bunny. Just keep being a good little toy and maybe I’ll let you come.”

The noises in the room are so lewd, so disgusting. Wet smacking of your thrusts as Minho begins lifting his hips, meeting your own to let them collide harder, repeatedly slamming into that spot deep inside of him over and of Felix’s thrusts, his whines, so wanton and needy.

“P-please, hnng, m-mommy, need-need to cum so bad! Can I cum? Please, please, p-please!”

You grip Minho’s hair, pulling up, ignoring Felix’s whine as he brings his hand to keep the stimulation he so desperately needs. Drool and tears drip down his face, falling onto the sheets into a messy puddle. “What do you think bunny? Want Lixie to come on your face or in your mouth?”

He’s moaning loudly, not responding in anything but a whimper when you stop moving. “Asked you a question.” You pull him harder, his back arching up as your other hand falls on his throat, no pressure yet, just resting there. “And I don’t like repeating myself.”

“Wan-want Lixie t-to come in my mouth, wan’ his come.” 

You smile over-sweetly as his reply comes, broken and breathless. “Yeah? Why don’t you ask Lixie?”

It seems the other boy is lost in his own world until you his say his name, panting as his eyes meet your own. “Lixie-please, co-come in my mouth.”

His head dips, moaning it the thought. “Fu-fuck yes.”

“Good.” You murmur.

You push his head down once more, but first he frantically shouts out. “Can I cum! Ple-please, need it so badly!”

Massaging his jutting hipbone with one hand, you pretend to think over the thought. “Make Lixie come and then you can.”

Giving him no time to respond, you’re shoving his head down and starting a new punishing pace, rocking his entire body as you abuse his prostate over and over.

And when Felix comes with a long with, gripping into Minho’s shoulders like his life depends on it, Minho is crying, tears flowing down his cheeks as he moans, the warm salty fluid fills his mouth.

Felix trembles, shaking with a sob, falling back against the headboard of the bed from the intensity of his orgasm. “Shit, so good, so good, thank you!” He sighs.

Meanwhile, Minho hiccups, swaying slightly, still slowly thrusting back against you. “Fu-ck!” His voice cracks and he sticks out his tongue, showing both you and Felix before dutifully swallowing. 

He pants heavily, eyes drooping. “Please! Please...fuck, shit...c-can I please cum, please, please! I promise-I promise I’ll be so good!” His voice is hoarse with desperation, wailing as cries out. “I’ll be so good for you!”

You pet his hair, shushing him with the movement. “Go ahead, bunny, been such a good boy, cum for me.“ 

The hand that’s been resting on his throat, teasing him with the presence of it finally presses down, cutting off his air, making his head spin in every best way for one final harsh thrust as he finally comes with a high-pitched keen, twitching as his arms give out, falling against your arms as you rest him down onto the mattress.

He curls up on the bed, clutching your arm and one of Felix’s legs as he comes in spirts, dirtying the sheets with white, crying out in ecstasy.

Quickly pulling off the harness, throwing it somewhere on the floor to be cleaned later you grab the cup of water set on the nightstand, turning back to where the two have huddled on the bed, Felix holding Minho as he pants for air.

You make each of them take a few sips until the glass is empty before setting it back on the nightstand. 

Then you carefully nudge the two over, laying down beside Minho and pulling him into your chest, letting him nuzzle into you as Felix falls into place behind him, lacing fingers with you.

The blankets are pulled up and over as a final touch and they take turns having their hair played with by you, whining when you pull away to the other. 

“Love you both. Bunny.” You kiss the corresponding boy on the forehead. “And kitty.” Both smile, enjoying the praise and the aftercare attention from you. “Such good boys for me.”

A hum of agreement from Felix that has you quietly gigging and soon you find yourself falling asleep.

#sub!lee felix #sub felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix x reader #sub lee know #sub!lee know #sub minho #sub!minho #sub!stray kids #sub!felix #sub skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #lee know x reader #lee know smut #sub lee felix #dom reader #dom!reader #felix x lee know x reader #fem!reader

[holylulusworld]

His maid

Summary: He wants to get his hands on you.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Maid(plussized)!Reader

Warnings: Ransom being an asshole, kinda harassment, I’ll label this one dub-con, maid kink, smut, unprotected sex,light spanking, doggy style, sex over/on a kitchen counter, language, whore, slut, cum dumpster, creampie, slut-shaming, Sir kink, daddy kink, plot twist

A/N: Sweater daddy is back…👀👀

Random snaps his fingers, grunting as Fran ignores him. “Help!” Ransom mutters. “Who’s that?” He points at you standing next to Harlan Thrombey, your new employer. “FRANNIE, I’m talking to you.”

“That’s the new maid, Y/N. She will take over my job for a few weeks. I got to take care of my mother,” Fran rolls her eyes as Ransom undresses you with his eyes. “She’s a nice person. Leave her alone, Hugh.”

“Who asked you,” he bites back. “What a nice little bee landing in my spiderweb.” Ransom smirks darkly. His eyes drift toward your plump ass, and he can’t help it. He roughly cups his crotch.

“HUGH!” Fran can’t believe Ransom sometimes. “You know the word sexual harassment, right?”

“I didn’t think about you, Frannie,” he snickers but drops his hand from his crotch. He will be damned if he doesn’t feel your sweet cunt wrapped around him. So far he seduced all maids Harlan hired. Well, all maids but Fran.

Ransom’s features darken as you run one hand over your skirt to straighten it. He growls low in his throat, already imagining slapping your cheeks with his large hands. “Oh yeah, my chubby little maid. I’ll fuck the sweetness out of you…”

“Fuck,” you exclaim as you drop the broom in your hands. Ransom scared the shit out of you when he sneaked behind you.

“Help, I need you to clean the mess in the guestroom.”

“Mess?”

“Mess. Now, hop-hop, bunny,” he purrs in your ear. Ransom steps even closer, almost pressing his heated body against your smaller frame. “I hate sleeping on dirty sheets.”

“But I just changed the sheets!” there is still so much to do, and you’ve got no time for Ransom’s nonsense. Fran warned you, and she didn’t exaggerate.

“Well, that was before I fucked that sweet bunny last night,” he breathes into your neck. “I hate sleeping on cum and pussy juices, you know. I can still smell her cum. She came so hard on my fingers.”

“If you can’t use your dick right, you have to use what you got,” you quip. Ransom grunts as you grab the broom and make your way toward the kitchen. “I’ll clean your room later. I need to take care of the mess in the kitchen first.”

“No. You will take care of the guestroom first,” Ransom follows you. “Harlan is not around this week. I’m here to take care of the house, and you will do as I say.”

“Harlan wants me to keep the kitchen and bathrooms sparkling clean,” you turn around to size Ransom up. “I will take care of your room later, Sir.”

He inhales sharply. His dick twitches in his pants as you give him a sweet pout. God, how he wants to break your body and mind. “Fine. Have it your way. Be aware I will not forget your insubordination.”

“We are not in the army, Ransom,” you snicker. “You’re not my boss either. Don’t get your thong in a twist.”

“Damnit, she makes me rock-hard that little minx. For weeks she resists me and my dick. I need to have her…”

“Ransom, it’s two in the morning. Why did you call me to come here?” you rub your still-tired eyes as Ransom lets you inside the mansion. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait till later?”

“You did not clean my room,” he lies.

“I did clean the guestroom. I even disinfected the mattress knowing what you did inside with all these women,” you snap at him. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll drive back home and take the day off.”

“I got a new working outfit for you too,” Ransom grins. This can’t be good. “A maid should wear a proper uniform, right? I bought it for you.”

“What? Harlan said it’s fine to wear my normal clothes.”

You follow Ransom inside, already fearing the worst. Ransom buying an outfit for you can’t be good.

“Here it is.” He grins from ear to ear as he holds up two garters. Ransom twirls them around his index finger, smirking darkly. “I got a nice maid uniform for you too.”

“That’s sexual harassment, Ransom!”

“It’s Hugh for the help but,” he steps closer to place the garters in your hands, “I’ll make an acceptation for you, sweetness.”

“I won’t wear this shit,” you drop the garters to the ground. “If you don’t stop, I’ll call Harlan. You know, he won’t be amused hearing you wanted me to wear this!”

You twirl around and stomp toward the door. “I know you will change your mind, bunny. One way or another…”

“Sweetness. My chubby bunny,” Ransom coos as he waltzes into the kitchen. You’re busy scrubbing the kitchen counter and ignore him. “We need to talk about the broken vase in the living room. You know, that was Grandpa’s favorite.”

“What broken vase?” you drop the sponge and turn around to look at Ransom. “Not ten minutes ago there wasn’t a broken vase!”

“I think you forgot you and your plump ass kicked it off the table,” his features darken as you look at him like deer in headlights. “I could tell Harlan it was me, though. If only you give me a reason to do so.”

He holds up the maid outfit and the garters again. “No.”

“It’s only fair, bunny. I’ll give the world to get my hands on you,” he dips his head and looks you up and down. “I want you to wear this and clean the kitchen. Maybe I will help you too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You make a beeline around Ransom to get to the living room. If he fucked with you again, you’ll call Harlan this time.

“No. Why did you do this?” you cry as the vase lies on the ground. Shattered. Broken. “That was Harlan’s favorite!”

“Let me help you, bunny,” he waves the flimsy outfit in front of your face. “Just give in. I know you touched yourself moaning my name. You get off on the way I treat you. I will give you all you need. A thick cock to make you stop overthinking things.”

“If I wear this, will you tell Harlan it was you?” you grab the outfit and garters, swallowing thickly as Ransom purrs your name.

“I’ll tell him it was me if you do as I say tonight, and for the rest of the week.” You shudder, but nod. “You’re such a sweet bunny for me.”

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Ransom groans loudly as you bend over the kitchen island to scrub it. “Lift your skirt, show me that perfect ass.”

You roll your eyes but lift the short skirt to show Ransom you are wearing the garters. One on each thigh, and nothing else underneath.

“I want you to scrub this counter sparkling clean, maid,” he tuts as you look over your shoulder. “But spread those legs first and show me your cunt.”

“I hate this,” you mutter under your breath, but do as he says. You spread your legs and bend even further to give him a good look at your soaked cunt.

“You love it, little slut,” he steps toward the counter to slap your ass roughly. Your cheeks jiggle and he does it again. “You’re a whore for my cock, just like every other bitch I fucked.”

Ransom grips your ass and roughly kneads your globes. “A hole to get filled with my cum,” he slaps your ass harder, making you cry out. “You’ll take my cock and thank me later after I screwed your brains out.”

“Yes, Sir…” you mumble.

“You will scrub this counter better, slut. I want to eat from the counter. If you can’t clean it properly, you’ll lick it clean with your tongue.”

You harrumph but scrub the counter even harder. It’s a struggle to focus as Ransom kicks his shoes off. You hear his clothes ruffling and his pants drop to the ground.

“Such a nice maid I have,” he grips your hips to press your ass into his crotch. You can feel his cock against your flesh. Pre-cum smears all over your skin, and you quiver as he moves his hands to your chest to rip the blouse you’re wearing open.

Your breasts spill out of the torn fabric, and he immediately cups your plush flesh.

“I knew you are going to be mine,” he purrs in your ear as he harshly tugs at your nipples. You whine as he rolls the pebbled nubs between his skilled fingers.

You hate to admit it, but slick runs down your thighs for Ransom Drysdale. The worst guy you ever met.

“How will you sing when I’m finally inside of you to ruin this pussy. I bet it will be a symphony if you already moan like a bitch in heat when I touch your tits.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he bites your earlobe, tugging at it while groping your tits. He won’t let up. Ransom grinds his painfully hard cock into your ass, groaning as you push back onto him. “It makes this even hotter. You will take my cock and call me anything I want to. You’re such a slut for me.”

Words are lost on you when Ransom movies his hands toward your hips. “Put your hands on the counter and shut your mouth. Daddy is going to fuck you know and you will love it.”

You bite your lower lip as he guides the tip toward your dripping hole. He teases your entrance with the wide head.

“Beg me.”

He pushes the tip in, only to pull back out. “Beg me!” He warns and slaps your cheek this time. “Slut!”

“Please.”

“You can do better.”

Another slap and another hit your cheek. “Please fuck me.”

“That’s much better,” he runs his hand over your stinging cheek and guides the tip back in. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“I need it so bad, Sir.”

Ransom pushes into you completely, ignoring that your walls fight the intrusion of his thick length. He immediately starts to give you shallow thrusts, and slowly pumps into you.

“Now you will move that perfect ass and fuck this slicked cunt on my cock. You won’t stop until you came all over me and milked me dry.”

You place your hands flat on the kitchen counter to brace yourself before you slowly start to move back and forth his length. “Such a good girl, fucking her slutty hole on my cock.”

He slaps your ass again, making you yelp. “Faster, bunny. I want you to sweat a little. We are not here to make love.”

“I’m doing my best,” you pant. “I worked all day, and now you want me to work your cock too.”

“Aw, my little bunny is tired, huh? Maybe you are too tired for an orgasm too. Do you want me to pull out and jerk off? I could cum all over your ass and paint it with my cream.”

“Please. No.”

You move a little faster.

“Faster, bunny,” he grunts and slaps your cheeks with both hands. “I want you to fuck me as if your life depends on it. Come on, do your job. I want you to work harder for me.”

“You don’t even know how to work hard.”

You push back harder onto his cock. “You want me to work this cunt, huh? Really? Cause I will ruin it once you let me have control.”

“Show me, Daddy…”

He makes an odd noise. “You asked for it.”

Ransom grips your hips harder, leaving bruises you will feel in the morning. Right now, you couldn’t care less because he starts to drag you onto his thick cock, making your tits bounce at the force of his thrusts.

He grunts, and curses as your cunt feels snug and warm around his length.

Ransom speeds up as you finally give him what he wanted all along. You moan and scream his name while scratching your nails over the kitchen counter.  

“I will cum inside of you and fill you up with my spunk. When I’m done with you, I’ll take a picture and send it to Harlan. He will see you are nothing but my cum dumpster.”

It doesn’t matter Ransom is the worst. Your body ignores he makes you sick as his cock just feels too good inside of you.

He slams into you, shouting your name as his dick twitches deep within you. Ransom grips your shoulders, holding you down on the kitchen counter as he keeps on moving. “Fucking cum, princess. Now.”

“Yes. Daddy,” you whine as your walls quiver around his softening cock. His cum along with your juices run down your thighs when he pulls out to slap your pussy lips. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, bunny. Now spread those legs and let me take a picture…”

“I loved it when you cleaned the kitchen counter in the costume,” Ransom snickers darkly. “What do we want to try next, bunny? I could be your boss and you are my naughty secretary, or how about I’m a plumper and clean your pipes?”

“If you explain to Harlan why I quit, and that I never was his maid in the first place, I consider doing another roleplay.”

Ransom gently kneads the knots out of your shoulders and hums. Your boyfriend is obsessed with roleplays and you are more than eager to encourage his kink.

“I got it! You are a waitress and drop food into my lap. You will ride my dick for punishment…”

Tags in reblog.

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #plus-sized reader #His maid #ransom drysdale x female reader #smut #tw: daddy kink #ransom drysdale smut

[leebix]

Roommate’s

P: Roommate hyunjin X F.reader

G. Smut

W. Cussing, clothe fingering, Dom Hyunjin, Sub reader, Hard core, nudes, kinda perv hyunjin, teasing hyunjin, O.F. reader, Pet name. (Bunny, good girl, love, etc.)

A/n: Hi! I’m back sorry it took a while just needed a small plot for the story, hope you enjoy my small story’s, should I continue writing? anyways In joy my story! >.<🤍 @ithinkibetteractfast

~*~

you're both sitting in your room, alone.. Hyunjin is your roommate, you’re both in the dorms but he suddenly steals your phone and starts looking through your photos..

“Hmm, what's this~” he says showing you your phone, with a picture of your nudes on the screen.. your face blushed red as you snatched your phone away “t-thats.. none of your business..”

“intresting, why would you be taking those for, hm?~” he teased, as he smirked, your roommate looking at you with a weird look.. he looks almost possesive, wanting to know who you took those photos for, but still being playful with you..

_____ looked at him with a shocked looked “well I thought I looked hot in my body….” _____ said as you looked away from her phone and turn it off and put it away from him hyunjin.

Hyunjin grinned mischievously, his eyes lingering on you. "Oh, trust me, you do look hot, ____," he said, leaning closer to you. "But I'm more curious about who you took those pictures for. Were they for someone special?" He chuckled, his tone filled with both playfulness and possessiveness.

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your skin. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, but I can't make any promises about the thoughts running through my head right now." His voice dropped to a low whisper, causing a tingling sensation to run down your spine.

____ lay down on the bed on her stomach as you turn on her phone and started going threw your Instagram, ____ sight “I Post that in Twitter for my fans….” You bite lip

Hyunjin eyes widened in surprise as you nonchalantly mentioned posting the nude photo on Twitter. His gaze shifted from your face to your body, now sprawled enticingly on the bed. His playful demeanor shifted, his possessiveness taking over.

He walked over to the bed, his steps deliberate and purposeful. He sat down beside you, his fingers tracing a lazy pattern on your bare thigh. "____, my sweet girl," he murmured, his voice laced with desire. "You're teasing me, aren't you? Flaunting your beauty for all to see, but deep down, you want it to be me who gets to savor every inch of you."

His fingers continued to trace higher up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. "Tell me, ____, do you want everyone to see what's only meant for my eyes? Those luscious curves, those tempting lips... Do you crave their hungry gazes, or is it me who you desire? Be honest with me, my little temptress."

____ looked at the boy with a sweet smile acting innocent towards the boy “mhhm I don’t know what your talking about” ____ said as you see the boy hand getting closer to her inner thigh as she bites her lips.

Hyunjin eyes narrowed, seeing through your innocent act. He could sense your desire, your hidden longing, and it only fueled his own arousal. He moved his hand even closer, his fingertips now brushing against the delicate skin of your inner thigh.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, ____," he growled softly, his voice laced with a hint of a warning. "Don't play coy with me, darling. I can see the hunger in your eyes, the way you're biting your lip. It's a dangerous game you're playing."

His fingers continued their slow, torturous journey, inching closer to your core. His gaze never wavered from your eyes, his dominant persona taking over completely. "You want me to touch you, don't you? To drive you wild with pleasure. But you'll have to beg for it, my sweet girl. Beg me to make you feel good."

_____ didn’t know what to do, ___ just looked him and nodding your head feeling your words I stick in your throat as his fingers get really close to you core.

Hyunjin could sense your hesitation, your need conflicting with your uncertainty. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as his fingers hovered just above your core.

"Open up to me, ____," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Let go of your inhibitions and surrender to your desires. I can give you the pleasure you crave, but you have to trust me."

With that, his fingers dipped lower, lightly grazing against your sensitive folds. He teased you, drawing circles and tracing patterns, building the anticipation within you. His touch was light, almost feather-like, but you could feel the intensity growing with each passing second.

"Are you ready to beg for my touch, my sweet girl?" he asked, his voice husky with desire. "To give in to the pleasure only I can provide?"

You looked at your roommate with a pure look not saying anything you making your thigh tight together feelings his fingers with your black shorts, as you breath is heavily moving up and down your chest looking at him as you bite your lip not knowing what to say to him.

Hyunjin watched you closely, observing the way your body reacted to his touch, the way your thighs unconsciously tightened together. He could see the desire etched in your eyes, the struggle for control within you. His own arousal grew, pushing him to push you further, to make you succumb to your desires.

He moved closer to you, his face mere inches away from yours. His hot breath fanned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. With a low, seductive tone, he spoke again, his voice filled with both dominance and a hint of desperation.

"Let go, ____" he whispered, his thumb lightly circling your clothed nub. "You want this, don't you? The pleasure, the connection between us? Don't fight it anymore. Just give in love."

With gentle yet firm pressure, he pressed his thumb harder against your clothed bud, wanting to see your resolve crumble, wanting you to beg for the release that only he could grant.

You whimper at the feeling of his slim fingers on your clothes nub, you really wanted, you slowly parted your legs to let him feel you right breathing heavily at this moment your chest moving up and down as you felt yourself getting wetter threw your panties “plea-please” you whimper your eyes have close of the small pleasure he’s giving you arching your back just a little throwing your head back

Hyunjin could feel the pulsating desire emanating from you, the way you willingly parted your legs just enough for him to access your heated core. A victorious grin spread across his face as he saw you succumb to your own longing.

He applied more pressure with his thumb, circling it skillfully against your clothed nub. He could feel the dampness through your panties, evidence of your arousal. Your whimper and plea for more only fueled the fire within him, his own desire growing more intense.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're so responsive, ____. Just imagine what it'll be like when I touch you properly, when I make you come undone under my fingertips."

With that, he increased the speed and pressure, his thumb working your sensitive bud with skill and precision. He relished in the sight of you arching your back and throwing your head back, lost in the pleasure he was providing.

"Feel the pleasure, bunny " he urged, his voice laced with desire. "Let it consume you completely. Give yourself over to me."

all what you could do was whimper at his words making her even wetter moaning in pleasure of you cloth nub was getting pleasure, ____ was breathing heavily your long silky black hair falling behind you as you close’s her eyes.

Hyunjin continued to work your clothed nub, the pace increasing along with the intensity of your moans. He watched you closely, taking in every sound, every movement, every reaction as you surrendered to the pleasure.

His fingers teased and toyed with you, skillfully rubbing and applying pressure to your sensitive bud. He could feel the wetness seeping through your panties, evidence of just how aroused you were. The sight of you losing yourself in the pleasure only fueled his desire further.

"Open your eyes, bunny," he commanded softly, his voice filled with authority. "Look at me as you come undone. Watch as I make you lose control."

He wanted to see your eyes, to witness every moment of your pleasure. With his free hand, he gently lifted your chin, urging you to meet his gaze even as his fingers continued their relentless assault on your clothed nub.

"Let go, my sweet girl," he breathed, his voice laced with a mixture of tenderness and dominance. "No holding back. Give me everything."

You opened your eyes slowly at hyunjin as the pleasure is hitting you, being a moaning mess underneath him feeling yourself wanting to cum

Hyunjin was captivated by the sight of your eyes, glazed over with desire and pleasure. The way you looked at him as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through your body pushed him to the edge of his own restraint. He could feel himself growing harder, the need to claim you becoming almost overwhelming.

He intensified his touch, his skilled fingers working your clothed nub with an almost unyielding pace. He wanted to push you to the brink, to make you lose control entirely. He could sense your impending release, the way your moans grew louder and more desperate.

"Let go, love," he urged, his voice husky with need. "Cum for me, beautiful. Give in to the pleasure and let yourself be consumed by it."

With his words, he applied one final surge of pressure, his thumb rubbing firmly against your clothed bud. He wanted to drive you over the edge, to bring you to the peak of bliss.

You moaned loudly almost hitting your climax as he still rubbed your clothe nub has your arms are behide you giving you support to stay sitting down, you got on of you legs up to the bed as you felt yourself cumming, you moaned loudly tears falling down your eyes looking at him as you was cumming on your now wet panties you had on, breathing heavily your chest moving as you breaths

Hyunjin watched intently as you reached your peak, your moans filling the room along with the sound of your labored breaths. The sight of your climax, the way your body trembled with pleasure, was utterly intoxicating to him. He felt a surge of possessiveness and triumph, knowing that he was the one who brought you to such heights of bliss.

He continued to stimulate you through your orgasm, his touch steady and unwavering, your pleasure becoming his own. He wanted to savor every moment of your release, witnessing your vulnerability and surrender.

As your moans subsided and tears streamed down your face, he leaned in close, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and adoration. "You were absolutely breathtaking, my sweet girl," he said softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You're mine, ___, body and soul. And I promise, I will always make you feel this pleasure. No one else will ever touch you like this, only me."

He gently kissed your forehead, his affectionate gesture a stark contrast to the intensity that just washed over you. "Rest for now, my love," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "There's so much more I want to give you."

#hyunjin smut #lee minho smut #leeknow smut #jeongin smut #seungmin smut #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #i.n imagine #changbin #chan bang #bang chan #bang chan smut #changbin smut #minho smut #hwang hyunjin #felix smut #lee felix #kpop smut #kpop imagines #fanfic #kim seungmim #skz stay #stz #straykids imagines #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x y/n

[bucknastysbabe]

God Bless the Inventor - 40’s AU series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,268

Synopsis: Howard comes up with a…new invention for his adventurous pals to try. Bucky’s devious wife has plans. Bucky is questioning his life choices.

Tags: 3k of femdom filth, anal play, fancy vibrators were invented by Howard I know, Subby baby buck, chubby bunny buck, man tears, oral (f!receiving), humiliation kink, weight gain TW if that’s not your thing, men in panties, overstim, SSR GANG, Peggy should’ve been gay and not a dumbass plot choice I loved agent Carter and stand by that, We Stan Dum Dum Dugan, Bucky and him wife are very much in love and supremely horny, praise kink, slight sub space

A/N: I wanted a thicker man in lingerie smh

Howard sat on the other side of his Art Deco living room, newly furnished from what you could tell. Bucky was next to you, a question furrowing his brow. His flesh arm was around your shoulders, the cutie would get touchy around Stark’s flirty demeanor. Regardless if they were best of pals.

You smiled and asked, “So what’s this new invention you want to pitch to us of all people?”

Howard’s dark eyes gleamed with mischief. He grinned and sat forward, extending his hands. The genius elaborated, “Well- it’s a bit of a strange idea, brought to my attention after seeing a housewife in dire need of,” he winked, “companionship.”

Bucky barked, “What the hell Stark? You comin’ onto us or something?”

You shushed him and gestured for Howard to continue his pitch. He laughed airily, pulling out some sort of sleek oblong thing— faintly in the shape of a prick with a ring on the end. Your eyes widened when it dawned, you gasped, “Howard! You made one of those sex toys?” Bucky rolled his eyes with a groan, thoroughly displeased.

Howard wagged his finger, “Nuh-uh-uh! It’s a ‘massager’! Good for working out sore muscles.”

You and Bucky shared a dubious look, then turned back to Stark. He slapped his knee and guffawed, “Yes of course it’s a vibrator! But the magic here is that it’s battery powered and,” he winked, “remote controlled for the partner!”

Bucky snorted, “What about the damn flying car Stark? Been waiting on that one since 42’.”

“It’s still under work!,” the man snapped.

You interrupted, “What then? You want us to try it out for you? Why can’t you do it on one of your two million dames?”

Howard slyly smirked, responding, “If the inventor says it’s good then what proof is that really? Just take it home, lube it up, come back to me so I can sell the patent. Stark Industries wouldn’t look good selling hysteria machines.”

Bucky sucked his teeth. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘can’t get a goddamn break with these SSR loons.’ You were already hooked by Howard’s pitch and toy. Poor Buck was going for the ride of his life sooner than later. You held out your hand and hummed, “I’ll bite, be back in a week. Hopefully I can leave you a glowing review, Howard.”

The excitable man jumped up and cheered, “Fantastic! You two will love it!” You grinned and let Howard peck your cheeks to Bucky’s consternation. Calling over your shoulder you joked, “Make sure Peg and her ‘roomie’ get a pair too huh Stark?” All three of you burst in to giggles after that, Bucky leading you out with a big hand on your waist.

Once strapped into the car Bucky had a strange look on his face. You purred, “Scared baby? This thing is preeeetty hefty.” He grumbled and turned the key into the ignition, ignoring your comment. You squeezed the plush layer over his strong thigh and said, “Poor Howie doesn’t know the trap he put you in Bucky-bear.”

“Tell me about it, sweets,” the brunette huffed.

Couple o’ days later

Bucky was sweating through his blazer, even in the chilly temperatures. You could see the perspiration beading on his upper lip, collecting on his temples. The man couldn’t stop shifting, tapping, grinding his teeth. Conversations went around the SSR members and their plus one’s, usually other significant others. Peggy had brought that sweet but brutally New Yorker ‘friend’ of hers, Angie.

Ray and Johnson kept away with nervous looks after the debacle at the last get together. You fondly remembered fucking Bucky into sweet submission that night. There would probably be a rehash soon if your poor husband didn’t cum all in his slacks. Which he probably would anyways, but that was okay.

Bucky was currently shoving his face with food to stop the nonsensical little noises he couldn’t hold back, passing them off as enjoying the meal. You smirked at the thought of the vibrating toy in his ass. Howard and oh goody, Dugan was in town! They ambled over greeting folks. Bucky’s eyes opened wide in fear. You knew that he knew Dugan was going to zero in on his bootcamp to field buddy.

“Barnes!,” Dugan boomed. Bucky dropped his food to sheepishly smile and get up on shaking legs. The mustachioed soldier pulled your husband into a hug, slapping his back heartily. Buck made a choking noise, rasping back a hello. Dum Dum manhandled Bucky backward to get a good look.

He patted Buck’s side and peered over a wide shoulder to joke, “Hello Missus Barnes! A sight for sore eyes! What’cha been feeding Sarge here? Lookin’ like pre-bootcamp dough boy Barnes!”

You could almost feel the mortification radiating off of your other half. Bucky’s face was a deep flush, him turning to look at you pathetically.

Down the vibrator went to zero in your pocketbook. Poor bear.

Dum Dum smiled happily, hugging the brunette again, whispering, “I’m so happy you’re okay man. Blessed, really.” Bucky gave a less strained smile at that, relaxing into the big man’s arms. “Missed ya’ too Dugan, lots.” Howard cooed, “How adorable! Let’s get the whole team together over in Europe.”

“I like New York thank you very much,” Buck deadpanned to a raucous of laughter. You sidled up to your husband, beaming. Dum Dum teased, “As long as she gets to go, gotta have some guts to keep Barnes tied down.”

Your lips quirked up, a hand sliding to palm Bucky’s ass while you purred, “I’ve got some steel under my frilly apron.” Bucky flushed and looked down, lamely replying, “She does, she does.”

The party went on a bit longer, people getting rowdy. You let Bucky get some much needed catching up with Dum Dum. His cheeky smile made your heart skip. Later on, Chief Dooley had to disperse the drunken men and Peg howling war songs. You laughed and clapped along with Angie, sharing a warm look.

Bucky was sweaty and disheveled by the time he was launched out of the circle into your arms. You caught his bulk, laughing and batting at your husband as he peppered you with wet kisses. He laughed, “C’mon you don’t want some lovin baby?” You scrunched your nose and giggled, “I always want your lovin sweetie, let’s get home Hm? Then we can take Stark’s toy for a real test drive.”

Bucky’s pupils blew at the implication, body going woozy in your arms. You eyed his needy expression, pushing back some fallen strands of dark hair. Nipping at his earlobe you hummed, “That was only level one baby, and you couldn’t sit straight.“ Bucky’s breath left him in a punched out groan, slumping into your smaller frame.

You gave his ass a tight slap and hollered, “I got the wheels this time Sarge!”

Making the rounds of goodbyes, Bucky was definitely rushing to get back home. Stark had a knowing gleam in his eye, giving you a wink behind your husbands back. Hugging the genius you thanked him.

Bucky, resigned and so, so horny followed behind like the pet pup he was. You deviously cranked the remote up another level, eyeing Bucky for the inevitable reaction. He yelped, legs spreading, arms flailing. You could hear the crunch of his metal hand on the door. Bear could hardly climb into the little two-door, so wracked with pleasure.

You cooed, “How’sit feel bear?”

Bucky’s cute nose was scrunched up as he whined out, “S’fulll m-my god, s’fuckin me up baby.” He was now rutting back against the car seat, whimpering needily. Bucky moaned, “So good, so good, fffuck!” You pulled the car forward, grinning helplessly. Oh how you loved your submissive little big boy. Bucky mewled and made to palm at his swollen cock, probably painfully smushed in those tight slacks of his.

He was too prideful to admit it, but you’d ordered some more clothes so Bucky would stop looking like he was shoved into his work suit. Stubborn bastard. You slapped his hand away and tutted, “We have to test out Howard’s device correctly dear.” You patted his plump cheek and added softly, “Can’t have your slutty dick get in the way can we now hm?”

Bucky’s tears were getting worked up but he dropped his dark head and whinged, “Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy,” you crooned. Bucky shivered and seemed to relax at the praise. Bear loved his praise and coddling almost as much as he liked the humiliation. You’d get to that later.

Bucky was going mindless, humping and sucking on his bottom lip as he bounced in the seat. To be a bitch you taunted, “Had alot to eat tonight, don’t wanna bust your nice slacks dear.” He thinly whined and blushed, curling in but didn’t stop the movement.

Pulling into the garage Bucky ungainly hopped out and staggered over to you, opening the car door. You simpered, “Sweet boy, thank you, earning a lot of treats tonight.” He blubbered, “Really?” Thumbing his swollen slobbery lips you nodded, pecking them one time.

Bucky led the way, albeit slowly due to the vibrations dragging across his ass and the heavy weight of the plug on top of the prostate. You came from behind, like a jungle predator. From the gloom of the hallway you crooned, “Special drawer’s calling your name, bear!”

Bucky moaned frustratedly. You didn’t like that insolent tone, cranking it up to the highest power. There was a clank of his arm and throaty wail emanating from the darkened bedroom. You sped up to the scene, and my- what a scene you saw. Bucky was on his knees, blazer discarded and his fingers digging into the chest. You knew that was to keep him from touching his cock.

Bucky sniveled, “S’too much, baby baby, ah fuck baby! Can’t stop l-leaking mmmgh!” You moaned softly, clambering behind your shivery husband. Slowly you discarded his clothes, baring that adorable fluffy flesh to your eyes.

“Pretty baby,” you sighed.

You could hear the vibrator assaulting Bucky’s ass, pounding his poor sensitive prostate. Your sarge whimpered and mewled, definitely getting overwhelmed. You shushed him, pressing sweet kisses and praises to relax Buck. Your nimble fingers undid his belt and unbuttoned the pants. You bit your lip bloody at Buck’s fat cock swollen and leaking all over his slacks and panties.

“Oh my, s’it milking you out sweet boy. You feelin’ sweet baby?”

You sucked in a breath, your pussy causing a slippery mess in your panties. You adjusted the sticky fabric with a strained whimper. God your husband was a work of art.

He nodded jerkily, leaning back onto your slim shoulder. Your hand caressed his damp chest and cheeks, pressing a kiss to his temple. In slow terms you asked, “Buck, you got me?” Bucky was approaching fast if not already in that foggy space. He nodded slowly, blue eyes wearily opening.

You flipped his bigger frame around to back against the drawers. Bucky was so pliant it was like moving a rag doll, albeit a heavy one. He mewled upon seeing your face, “W-wan you so bad baby.” His cock spurt out more pre. Instinctively you slid your fingertip across the milky bead and sucked on it, Bucky crying your name.

Undressing the baby was an easy affair. Surveying his flushed skin, you figured a pink set would compliment the blush, pale stretch marks, his lips, and pretty pink nipples. Shaking yourself out of the horny catalogue you moved to open the drawer, snatching around until you found the lacy baby pink set. Bucky sighed and watched with hazy eyes.

You held it up to the befogged Bucky, watching his lax body begin to tremble in excitement. You teased, “Yeah pup, you’ll look like a dream.” One leg went in a hole at a time, Buck weakly lifting up his hips to slide the thin panties on. He cried out at the fabric caressing his full balls.

Next came the garter, Bucky’s least favorite part. You relished in it, watching the softness of his belly tighten and struggle to fit under the unforgiving straps. You snapped the waistband across his belly, Bucky whining and shaking his head. Palming his tummy you questioned, “Did you get get hard when Dugan mentioned you’d packed it on?”

Bucky’s red cheeks grew wet with tears as he sniveled, “N-no! God no, I w-was so embarrassed!” You surveyed his twitchy blues while you slid up the stockings and clipped them to the ill fitting garter. He kept looking down and away as if he was going to escape. You knew what that meant. Liar.

“Uh-huh baby, just say you like being my greedy plump housewife and I think you’d feel better.”

Click click.

The buzzing grew louder.

Bucky’s legs snapped open as he howled in ecstasy, hands pulling and ripping at anything in grasp. He sobbed, “S’not tr-true! M’gonna go train with Johnson.” He shivered and mewled again at the sensation of the vibrator. You cocked your head in amusement, crawling to sit between his thick thighs.

“I know you will baby,” you teased.

You upped the vibrator to the final setting, watching Bucky seize and wail helplessly. Your own pussy tightened more and leaked at the sight of the brunette’s panties growing a darkened stain. Your belly was awash with heat, could you actually cum from watching this? Poor Buck was huffing and squirming, unable to do anything but take it. You nibbled at his chest cooing, “S’that feel good? Color baby?”

“Green mmmm- oh god yes,” he yelled.

You didn’t want to give that unspeakable German bastard any credit but whatever he dosed Buck up with in Azzano did make your husband eager to cum as much as possible. Rolling with the punches, one would say. You cleared the thought by rambling dirty nonsense.

Detaching your mouth from a puffy nipple you cooed, “What’s gotten into ya’ baby? Being so good for me. Such a good little slut, lovin’ Howard’s fun toy up your whore ass like that.”

Your husband was too busy drooling and agreeing in sloppy disjointed ‘yesses’. He was far gone, maybe had one em’ before the overstimulation took over. You crowded closer into his bulky frame, breath fanning over heaving lips. Bucky mewled and chased your lips, hands twitching at his sides, obedient as ever.

You indulged the needy slut and grabbed a full cheek of his while taking his mouth. Bucky cried out, “Oh! Mmph!” You licked into his open mouth, twirling your tongue with Buck’s while swollen wet lips caressed your own. Your husband shuddered and shoved himself closer, rubbing his tits against your silky negligee.

You smoothed your hands down the brunettes plush sides, purring, “I know you’re feeling s’good baby, you loving all this? I mean lookit’chu, you’re a mess baby.” Bucky made an indignant noise, squirming underneath you. He managed to pant, “Luh’ it. M’so horny.”

Sweet Jesus you’d lucked out. Bucky was the perfect whore, all for you. His watery blue eyes, achingly wide- watched yours. Cheeks red, trembly lips, sweet belly twitching. The cherry on top was his cock just pouring rivers of cum. You palmed his bulge, gasping at how soaked it was.

In a frenzy you unclipped the garter, Bucky gasping in shock. He made an inelegant, “whuh?” Flipping the garter up, your shaking hands yanked down the ruined panties. Mouth running overtime you rambled, “Baby is wet, so wet, gonna give me one big one Hm? Gonna cum all over your wife like a good slut?”

Bucky nodded frantically, eyes scrunching shut. He cried, “Wet for y-you- ah! Touch my balls, pluh-please they’re so heavy for you! Hngh!” You nodded, biting your lip in ecstasy, the buzzing of the toy echoing on and on. You palmed and held onto the swollen sac.

“Jesus fuck baby!,” you swore.

He was all hot hot hot and swollen. That wouldn’t do. You squeezed and rolled them, thumbing down the seam. Spurts of cum hit your belly, Bucky throwing his head back with a wail of your name. The Sargeant babbled, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou G’nna cum so hard for you ma’am!” He sucked in a wet sob and violently trembled.

“Yeah babydoll, I know you’re full up, c’mon Buck, be my good houseslut and paint my fancy clothes, ruin me, pretty baby,” you rambled breathlessly.

Bucky’s balls tightened and drew up under your palm, cock shooting load after load onto your negligee. You cooed and praised him through it, your own orgasm coming out of nowhere. You gripped at the soft flesh on his belly, panting through your nose. Simple excitement from the show that was your husband. Fat tears and hefty sobs tore Buck’s throat as he emptied.

You scrambled to turn off the vibrator, Bucky’s crying already growing frantic. You eased it out of him and tossed the device across the wooden floor. Bucky cried and mumbled nonsense, itching to touch you. You purred, “S’good, c’mon and touch me Buckybear. Good damn boy.” The supersoldier wrapped up tight around you, strong fingertips embedded into your flesh.

Teary eyes searched yours as he begged, “Baby, sweets, oh, lemme’ eat you out please! Want you on my face!”

You grinned, a complete mess, and nodded. You rasped, “Yeah, yeah, that’s a good boy, you deserved it.” You leaned back, bracing your elbows and spreading your legs for your needy husband. Bucky moaned, clambering onto his belly, big hands swallowing your thighs. He croaked, “Smell so good, my angel baby!”

“Have a taste Buckybear, sweet Jamie.”

Bucky lapped eagerly at your soppy pussy, eyes rolling at up the taste. He ate and sucked like his life depending on it, thick hips and thighs flexing against the hard floor. You threaded trembling fingers through his brunette locks, tossing your head back with a wanton cry. You blabbered, “S’good, keep it up baby.” Bucky shoved his tongue into your cunt, slurping and whining rudely.

So soon after your surprise orgasm, this was intense. All you could do was moan and whine your husbands name, riding his pretty fucking face. Bucky’s hands squeezed your thighs roughly, spreading you even wider. You cried, “Fuck sweetie! Yeah yeah that’s it!” He rutted harder, whining into your swollen pussy.

He suckled on your clit, interchanging with flicks of his tongue. Baby knew you like the back of his hand. Bucky looked up, adoration in his glossy eyes, slurring, “Love ya’ baby, pretty mama please please!” He slid a thick finger inside you, crooking the digit in quick motions. Your body arched and shivered, pussy convulsing and pushing out more and more slick.

Bucky gasped into your cunt, wordlessly wailing.

He’d cum— again. You curled around your husband, legs caging in his dark hair. Pleasure and overspent nerves overtook your flesh, making reality fizz away for God know’s how long.

You came to, cuddled with your baby in a heap on the floor, Bucky laying reverent kisses on your jaw. You gripped his soft cheek and pulled the sweetest man alive to your lips, moaning a raspy, “Love you.”

Later that night

“Yeah, so, Howard- I will give a glowing review.”

Howard’s brash laugh echoed on the other end of the line. He purred, “I take it Barnes enjoyed the treat?” You grinned and looked over to your husband, diligently rearranging and cleaning his gun. You giggled, “Oh very much so Stark.” Bucky barked from across the room, “What does he want?”

You laughed, “Sorry gotta go Howie, talk to you later, you scoundrel!”

Suspicious blue eyes stared at you, making you fall into a fit of giggles. Poor baby bear.

#40’s au #chubby!bucky #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #sub!bucky #Bucky barnes smut #the Other Kink slipped thru again maybe I’ll convert someone today #I love Howard Stark he’s my manic baby

[i-smoke-chapstick]

ough can you do something else smutty with gotham jervis tetch he’s literally the love of my life and I read your other stuff with him and I literally love it so much. like him being needy for the reader like he was in the other one you did with him? it was so aughhh 😫😫

thank you thank you

‘LOSE CONTROL,

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Jervis doesn’t like it when you leave without warning him.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. PURE SMUT!! Literally no plot. Needy and obsessive jervis. Like, he’s fucking FEINDING. Jervis is a little toxic. Biting. Body worship. Hints of PAST non consenual hypnotism. Guys this might be my fav smut fic i’ve ever written. Heard this song and I was floored; it’s so HIM.

Inspired a bit by @adalwolfgang ‘s biting ask ;)

♫ “How many times did I tell you I'm no good at bein' alone? / I lose control when you're not next to me / Problem is when I'm with you, I'm an addict / And I need some relief, my skin in your teeth.” Lose Control by Teddy Swims

“Look into my eyes, my dear.” He whispers, forcing your jaw up with his hand that isn’t occupied, shoved deep into your cunt. Two slender fingers pump in and out of you at a furious pace. You’re choking on your tears and saliva, heavy mascara streaks running down your face as you sqeeze around his digits.

You are whining and squirming in his hold, desperately trying to rut yourself against his hand. The overstimulation is killing you, and you know he can see it. He’s biting his lip, and your eyes drag along his neck and chest. He must have been at this for hours now.

He’s borderline torturing you, like he’s trying to get a confession. When you feel your eyes begin to roll back, he only shoves his fingers deeper, teasing your wet cunny and roughly finger fucking you.

“Ah ah ah,” He clicks his tongue, a scowl of dissaproval on his face. “Come back to me.” He orders, a particularly deep thrust of his middle and ring finger curling up into your pussy. Your chest is heaving, whimpering as he continues his game.

You don’t know how the two of you ended up in this position. One moment you come home from work, and the next he has you pressed up against a table, you two fucking like bunnies. It took you by surprise, the way his soft hands roughly grabbed your throat, muttering some sort of incantation.

Somewhere along the way; you realized, he thought he had hypnotized you. Your mind ran wild. The two of you had made love before, but it was always slow and sweet. He was the perfect gentleman, slow thrusts of his cock into your slit, sucking on the tender flesh of your neck. This was a whole new side of him; Dark. Deep. Animalistic.

No, he thought he had you hypnotized. You think back to if he’s done this before- when he wanted to get rougher with you. The more deep-seated perverse thoughts he has; he unleashes them on you, when you can’t say no. He fucks you harder, as though he doesn’t want to offend you. When he has his own needs to fill, that aren’t very gentlemanly.

Problem is, you quite enjoy this side of him. The way he leans his forehead against yours, keeping eyecontact the entire time. He’s starved for your attention. He wants is all on him.

“Tell me, where were you today, hmm?” He commands, still thinking you’re under his spell. You’ve been playing his game; not letting him know that you know. You realize this is own little lie detector test. He’s trying to ask if you were anywhere else…with any other man. You shiver when another thrust of his fingers brings you back.

“Work.” Is all you whisper, looking into his gaze. Your eyes are glossy, and he just hums in response. He looks vaguley pleased, vaguley dissatisfied with the ambiguity in your answer. If he suspects something, he doesn’t say anything. He must be too caught up in the moment, in your body, in your core to care.

Just when you feel the knot of your orgasm building up inside you, he rips his fingers away. You give a loud yelp at the loss of contact, which he remedies by sticking his fingers in your mouth.

“Suck.” Is all he directs, eyes still focused on you and only you. You try not to gag when he forces them deep into your throat, watching your tongue swirl around your own juices.

You suck on his fingers for what feels like ages, until he’s satisfied. You can feel his hard cock pressing into the meat of your thighs, and you’re desperate to have him inside you.

His chest heaves wildly as he roughly pushes you onto your back. You feel your skull and back hit the wood of the table and wince, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention. He prowls on top of you, like a predator hunting his prey. His pupils are blown, mouth slightly agape. He doesn’t take his eyes off you for even a second.

His cock is flushed long, hard, and red from base to tip- and he shoves it into you without warning. He lets out a loud growl beside himself, and thrusts slowly at first. He laughs at his own obscene groan of pleasure.

“Forgive me,” He coos, and he sounds patronizing, smirk on his face. “I just couldn’t help myself.” He giggles, as though he knows he’s apologizing for something you won’t remember.

His thrusts grow faster as he pounds your body into the table, brusing grip on your thighs. The more he fucks himself into you, the more his hands roam, until he’s wildly squeezing and groping at every part of you.

He’s engorging himself on your pleas, and the sound of your drenched pussy. The only noise that fills the room is the squelch of his dick dragging against your walls. His hands settle themselves on your throat, and you see him trying his hardest to maintain concentration on you, and not let his own gaze slip into the back of his head in pleasure.

He’s hitting it deep and raw, and you mewl around him. You can tell he’s getting close when his brow furrows and he grits his teeth, pace faltering in short spasms. His mouth keeps opening and closing- like he wants to speak, like he wants to give you more commands; but you’re too tight, too wet, and feel too good- he can’t seem to utter a word or rhyme.

He finally loses himself, buring his face in the crook of your neck. You similarly lose yourself as well, hypnotized sex-doll facade failing as you pull him into you, and bite down on his neck. He damn near chokes, eyes widening as he pumps thick ropes of cum into you, not bothering to pull out. You cum just the same, and you can feel his heartbeat against your chest.

He pulls away quickly, scurrying to look at you. He swallows, nervous. His eyebrows are furrowed as he stares at you incredulously- unsure if he’s somehow woken you up out of your hypnotized state.

“Sorry,” You murmur, pathetically. Your eyes are closed, still resting against the table, trying to catch your breath.

Scilence falls between the two of you, until you prop one eye open to look at him.

Standing before you, Jervis’s chest is heaving, a wild and carnivorous look in his eyes. You look down to find him instantly hard again, eyes narrowed in on you like an animal. His jaw is slacked, obviously not previously aware of your fully alert mind.

He looks like he wants to tear into you again.

This is going to be a loooooong night.

#x reader #gotham #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #batman rouges gallery #dc comics #gotham jervis #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader smut #gotham mad hatter #mad hatter x reader #mad hatter #mad hatter x reader smut #the mad hatter #the mad hatter dc

[straykeedz]

day 21: han + sex tape

©straykeedz

tw: female anatomy; sexting is implied; masturbation (f); oral (m receiving); unprotected piv sex (don’t do this at home 🤨); dirty talk; choking if you squint; creampie; ♡

wc: 2,4k;

okay this is like 1% plot and 99% porn lol

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni

📹

“Take off your panties for me, sweetheart?”

Jisung speaks, his phone camera pointed right between your legs on your clothed pussy, a black piece of cotton covering it, Jisung’s favorite. Whenever he sees you wearing them, even if it’s just a glimpse he gets from underneath his t-shirt that you wear around the house, he gets instantly hard. To be fair, though, he gets hard whenever he’s around you, it doesn’t matter what you’re - or not - wearing. 

You hook your fingers on the hems of your ridiculously expensive panties, then slide them down your thighs, revealing your bare cunt to Jisung’s eyes. He lets out a gasp, then helps you get rid of them. He rests his palm on your knee, still holding his phone in his other hand. 

“Touch yourself for me, please?”, he whines. 

You smirk, you love seeing him so desperate for you, so pussydrunk. 

That’s why you’re currently on your shared bed, laying flat on the mattress, completely naked - because he just can’t get enough of your pussy. He needs it - needs you all the time, and he struggles whenever he’s forced to be away from you. That’s the whole point of today, that’s why he’s recording such an intimate moment through his phone camera - he can’t bear the thought of not seeing your naked body for two whole months. 

Sure, you could video chat or maybe have phone sex, but you both know it won’t be possible all the time since he’ll literally be on the other side of the world. So you came up with an idea, an idea Jisung instantly loved and agreed on. How could he not? He gets to have sex with you, record it while it happens and he’ll be able to re-watch it whenever he wants? Sounded like music to his ears. 

You bring three fingers to your mouth and lick them, making sure they’re lubricated and wet enough before you bring them on your clit and start to rub slow circles under Jisung’s stare. He bites his lip as he watches you touch yourself - so differently than how he touches you, fast and impatiently, but equally pleasuring. 

“Mhhh, you like it, sweetheart? You like touching yourself for me?”, he sucks in a breath when he sees you spread your lips to show him how wet you are. “Oh. I think you do like it.”, he chuckles, cheeks flustered as he brings his phone closer to get a better focus on your intimate parts. 

“Spread those lips for me, let me see how wet is your pussy, baby.”

You bite your lower lip, turned on by the whole thing - Jisung standing between your legs wearing nothing but his boxers, looking absolutely fucked out even though you’re just getting started, phone in his shaking hand as he bites his lip. 

You do as he asked, using your wet fingers to delicately part your labia, showing him how your arousal is spread all around your hole - he nearly chokes on air. To be honest, right now he wants nothing more than to pull his boxers down and sink in your aching pussy and get lost in the feeling of fucking his cock into you - but at the same time he wants this to last as much as possible. 

“You want me to put a finger inside?”, you purr. 

“Yes, baby, please?”, it comes out more like a question. You slowly ease a finger inside of you, burying it deep until your walls swallow it whole to your knuckle. “Fuck, sweetheart, another.”, he begs.

You shake your head and chuckle. “You’re so impatient.”, you tease him. “I haven’t even started touching myself yet.”, you point out.

“I know, baby, but you’re so fucking hot.”, he whines. “I can’t get enough of you, you know that.”

“Mhh, I know.”, you mumble, circling your entrance with another finger, before slipping it in with a moan, arching your back. Jisung’s arms are shaking so bad the video he’s recording is blurred for a couple of seconds. 

“Feels good?”

“Mh-hm.”, you nod. “Not as good as your fingers or your cock, tho.”, you purr, enjoying seeing him squirm and hold back a moan as he palms himself over his boxers. 

“Make yourself cum for me, sweetheart. Then I’ll give you my cock, promise.” Jisung says, staring into your eyes. 

The offer does sound tempting, so you decide to not be a brat for once and actually grant him his wish, slowly starting to move your fingers inside of you. It feels different than when Jisung does it - your fingers aren’t as long and thick as his, and they don’t reach all your sweet spots as easily. You’re gonna miss those fingers while he’s away - fuck, you’re gonna miss all of him. 

“Like that, baby, fuck yourself like that. Show me how you do it.”, he encourages you. 

You close your eyes and kick your head back, shoving your fingers deeper as you desperately try to get yourself off as fast as possible - you want him inside of you, not your stupid fingers. Meanwhile, he slips his free hand under the waistband of his boxers, stroking his cock slowly - if he does it too quickly, he’s probably gonna cum. 

“‘M close…”, you whimper, trying your best to let your fingers hit the same spot again and again, feeling your orgasm approaching. “Gonna cum.”, you whine. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart.”

You cum around your fingers, suppressing a moan by biting on the back of your hand as your legs shake and your whole body trembles, and fuck - Jisung really can’t believe he’s recording all of this. 

“Show me, baby. Show me your fingers, show me how much you’ve cum for me.”, there’s eagerness in his tone, but you can’t blame him. You’re eager too, you can’t wait to feel him, to touch him, to scratch and bite his skin, to cum again - this time, around him. 

You pull out your fingers from inside of you, and then wave them in front of the camera, showing him how they glisten, covered in your release. And Jisung can’t physically restrain himself from instantly getting closer to you, grabbing you by the wrist and shove your wet fingers into his mouth, getting a taste of you. He hums, swirling his hot tongue around your digits, and he can’t help but think of how much he’s going to miss this - tasting you - once he leaves. A sex tape can’t really help him with that… 

“Want your cock now…”, you speak softly, sitting on the mattress, his phone camera practically shoved in your face as you slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and finally slide them down his legs, letting them pool on his ankles, freeing his rock hard cock. 

Jisung isn’t mentally prepared for how you wrap your lips around his cockhead, but once more - he’s grateful he’s recording all of this, because you look so fucking hot with your mouth stuffed. Soft hums and muffled sounds leave his mouth as you take him deeper in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck around his length. 

“You’re so good at this, sweetheart, fuck.”, he licks his lips as he watch you bobbing your head up and down his cock without gagging. “You always suck me off so well.”, he compliments you, running one hand through your hair. 

But after a couple of seconds, he has to pull you away from his cock, too close to cumming already. You whine in protest. “I want to cum inside of you tonight, sweetheart.”, he explains, caressing your temple with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t you want it too?”

You nod eagerly. You want it - fuck, you want it so bad. “Good girl, now lay down on the bed for me.”

You position yourself on the bed as he requested, already spreading your legs because you know it’s how he likes it - he loves to see your face as he fucks you into oblivion. He wants to see the faces you make, wants to see how your feature scrunch up in pleasure as he thrusts hard inside of you, he wants to be able to shove his fingers in your mouth when you’re being too loud. 

He doesn’t stop recording - that’s the whole point of tonight. In fact, he positions his phone on his nightstand on a tripod - the tripod he usually uses for when he records his vlogs. He quickly checks if the angle’s right and the lights are okay before climbing on the bed, hovering over your body. 

“You’re gonna let me fuck you like a good girl tonight, aren’t you?”, he bites his lip, deep brown eyes staring into yours. “You’re gonna let me take this pussy how I want it?”, he cups your heat with his hand and sucks in a breath when he feels how wet you are. Only for him. 

You nod, licking your lips. “You can do whatever you want to me, you know that.”, you whisper, caressing his cheek with your cold finger, which sends a shiver down his spine. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you drive me crazy.”, he captures your lips in a kiss before pulling away. He wraps his fingers around his cock, then aligns it with your entrance. “Gonna put it in now. Think you can take it in one go?”

You hum. “I can, Ji. ‘M so wet for you.” 

Your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he pushes inside, thick cock parting your walls deliciously as he sinks in your heat - and you were right, you can take him in one go, because he bottoms out easily, burying himself deep inside of you. 

“There you go, sweetheart. Took me so well.”, he kisses you on the lips. 

“I always do.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re right, you always do.”, he pulls out just a couple of inches before pushing back inside, thrusting tentatively inside of you. “You’re such a good girl, taking my big cock in one go.”, he hooks his arm under one of your legs, spreading your thighs even wider, which allows him to go deeper. “Letting me take you like this, knowing I’m recording us fucking.”

“Ji.”, you moan. 

“Yeah that’s right, say my name.”, he grunts, hips snapping harder until wet, slapping sounds fill your bedroom. “Let the whole neighbourhood know who’s fucking you so well.”

“You.”, you moan. 

“A-And what’s my name, sweetheart?”, he pants. 

“Ji-“ a particularly hard thrust inside of you cuts you off “-sung.”, you let out a loud cry as he continues to fuck you hard, pounding into you relentlessly. 

He chuckles when he sees you turn your head to face his phone, still recording, on the nightstand, and his gaze follows yours, staring right into the camera. “You like it, huh?”, he smirks. “You like the thought of being recorded when I’m fucking you hard, yeah?”

You nod, then dig your fingernails in the flesh of his ass when he starts thrusting in a perfect angle, hitting your g-spot perfectly. “I do. Fuck, we should’ve done this sooner.”, you pant. 

He grins from ear to ear. “Ah, my perfect sweetheart.”, he wraps his fingers around your throat, although he doesn’t squeeze it. “Letting me take her like this… all spread for me, letting me pound her pussy so good…”, you can feel your wetness drip onto the mattress - the bedsheets must be soaked by now. 

“Fuck, Ji, don’t stop.”, you let out a high-pitched sound when his cockhead kisses your g-spot, and you throw your head back in the cushions, Jisung’s hand still wrapped around your throat. 

“Mhh, not thinking about it, sweetheart. Wanna feel you cum around my cock. And then we’ll do it again, mh? You gonna let me take this pussy again?”, he pants, his dark hair sticking on his sweaty forehead as his thrusts become unsteady. 

“Yes, fuck- gonna let you take it whenever you want, however you want.” You’re so, so close. 

“That’s right. I’m the owner of this pussy, aren’t I?”

“You are.”, you pant, legs shaking, toes already curling. So close. 

“And what’s my name, sweetheart? Say it as you cum for me.”, he demands.

“Jisung!”, you cum with a loud moan, clenching around his cock as you finish, coating his length, balls and bed in your orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, fuck-“ Jisung pants, but he’s cut off by his own orgasm. He grunts as he comes inside of you, rutting his hips against yours as your tight walls milk him. 

He lets go of your leg, knowing you’re probably feeling sore, and pulls away his fingers from your throat as his body collapses on yours. When he feels his cock starting to become limp, he’s quick to reach for his phone. You think he’s about to end the recording, but he kneels between your legs instead, and points his camera on your pussy. 

“Wanna watch my cum drip out of you, you’re gonna let me?”, he asks, looking you in the eye. 

You nod, and he slowly pulls out of you. A choked sound leaves his throat when he sees his seed, mixed with your release, drip out of your hole, ending up on the bedsheets. 

“Fuck, push it out, sweetheart. Wanna see it drip from your pretty hole.”, he brings his other hand on your pussy, delicately spreading your labia with two fingers, and bites his lip when you push his cum out of you. “There’s so much of it, sweetheart. I’ve cum so hard…”, he comments, coating his thumb in your mixed fluids. 

Then, he brings it to your lips, and nearly faints when he sees you wrapping your lips around his digit, licking it clean and swallowing your mixed releases. He presses the ‘end recording’ button, then throws his phone on the bed, next to you - not without saving the video and moving it into a private folder, the same folder in which he keeps all of your nudes and naughty videos you’ve sent him. 

Then, he lets his body fall on the bed next to you and pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his naked chest. He places a kiss on your head as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

“Round two in the shower?”, you break the silence. 

He bites his lip, smiling like an idiot. He nods eagerly, and you get up from the bed. 

“Oh, and bring your phone.”, you smirk, disappearing into the bathroom. 

📹

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[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 9

Just moving right along with these. Here I introduce two new people to befriend Steve. Because I like Steve having friends his own age that he hasn’t trauma bonded to. Starting tomorrow I’ll be putting up a little plot bunny that got away from me but have no fear, this one will return.

On the tagging, I HAVE REACHED MY HARD AND FAST LIMIT OF 50. I love the response this story has gotten. I do. I love you all. I love every reply, like, and reblog. It brings me so much joy, you don’t even know. But tagging is hard for my ADHD brain. I have gone up from 20 to 30 and finally 50 as my system improved but I think if I do any more than that I’ll go insane. So any future tagging requests will be ignored. Sorry.

The best way to keep update on these stories is follow me and set me on notifications. I rarely do a lot of reblogging these days (too busy churning out stories like whoa), so more often then not a post will be a story. I try to post at least once a day (some times twice if I’m trying to rush through the posting a bit like I did to make sure the Valentine fic got out in time without making people wait on Vamp!Eddie), just never at set time.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 

*

Steve was biting his nail as he waited his turn at the back of the crowd to see if he had made it.

“Ain’t doing it for this time, big boy,” Eddie told him. “I will stay for emotional support though.”

Steve gave Eddie’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks, man. I’m just so nervous.”

Finally they got to the front of the line and Steve’s finger slid down the list and next Thompson was Steve Harrington.

“I got it!” he said jumping up and down. “I got it!” He hugged Eddie.

And Eddie gave him a small tap on the back in return.

“We need to celebrate!” Steve said. “I’m taking everyone out to dinner.”

Eddie laughed. “The whole school, huh? Man, I knew you were rich, but that’s a lot.”

Steve playfully shoved at him. “Noooo...I mean you and the rest of Corroded Coffin. If it wasn’t for you guys I wouldn’t have ever tried out and I want to thank everyone.”

“Sounds great, pretty boy,” Eddie said. He turned Steve around and pushed him toward his first class. “Now go, before you’re late.”

Steve laughed and started walking. He looked over his shoulder and smiled softly.

Butterflies took off in his stomach looking at Eddie. He shook his head and went to class. That was another thought for another time. If he was going to graduate, he couldn’t be late.

*

Eddie went to go pick Steve for the celebration dinner but when he pulled up to the house there was a shiny silver BMW in the driveway and the front door was open.

Shit, shit, shit.

He wasn’t going to back out now. Steve needed him. He got out of the van and skipped up to the door.

He knocked on the door frame and an elegant woman in her early forties came out of one of the side rooms.

“Who are you?” she asked, taking in his band tee and ripped black jeans with a sneer.

He held out his hand. “Edward Munson, ma’am. Steve and I are in math together.”

Just then Steve came out of his room with his dad. Mr Harrington looked thunderous and Steve more than a little frightened.

“Eddie!” Steve called out.

“What’s all this then?” Mr Harrington boomed.

“Stevie and I are doing a project in math,” Eddie explained with a grin. “Mr Vinke assigned pairs to research noted mathematicians. We picked Gosta Mittag-Leffler, the dude that is the reason the Noble prizes don’t have a math award.”

Mrs Harrington turned to her son. “Couldn’t you have worked with any of your friends?”

Steve blushed.

“It’s just Tommy and Carol in that class and since they wanted to work together, Mr Vinke put me with Eddie.”

“Can’t be helped, I suppose,” Mr Harrington said gruffly.

“I’m here to pick him up to go to the library,” Eddie explained. “But we can do it tomorrow if you’re busy?”

Steve looked to his parents, in half agony and half hope. Agony because he did want to go celebrate with his friends. Hope because even if he couldn’t do it tonight, at least he would be able to see his parents and tell them all about his good news.

“It’s fine,” Mrs Harrington said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re only stopping by for a couple hours anyway. I wanted to get some of my nicer jewelry and don’t trust the mail system to get it to me intact or at all.”

Steve’s face fell. “You aren’t staying?”

“Big meeting in Chicago tomorrow morning with some very important Japanese investors,” Mr Harrington boomed, pounding Steve on the back. “Can’t be missed.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll just go get my school bag.” He ran back into his room and grabbed his things. He was back out in a flash. Steve squeezed past his dad and thundered down the stairs. He gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve nodded.

Eddie waved at the Harringtons. “It was nice meeting you both.”

As they walked to the van they heard Mrs Harrington say, “Well, at least he’s a polite boy.”

“I didn’t know manners were taught to trailer trash,” Mr Harrington replied with a guffaw.

Eddie winced and Steve gave his elbow a squeeze. Once the were in the van and pulling out of the drive way, both boys relaxed.

“I’m sorry about that, man,” Steve said. “They literally came home ten minutes before you got there. I tried calling but Wayne said you had already left.”

Eddie turned and looked at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Because at least this way it wouldn’t leave me and the boys hanging at the diner wondering where you are.”

Steve blushed. “It was still rude of them. They didn’t tell me they were coming home and then to just dash off like I didn’t exist. Even I can tell that this is an aesthetic that is carefully, artfully done.” He waved at Eddie’s look.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Yeah? What makes you think that?”  

“The shoes,” Steve explained. “They are too white and too new to be trash.”

Eddie grinned. “Look at you, being all observant.”

Steve just shook his head. “It’s not rocket science, dude.”

“No, but it is Sherlockian,” Eddie said.

Steve laughed. “Fair enough.”

*

They arrived at the diner to see that in addition to Jeff, Gareth, and Brian, Gethin and someone he didn’t know was there, too.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted.

The new boy was a shocking curly-haired redhead with more freckles then hairs on his head.

“Hey, Steve! Eddie!” Jeff greeted. “This is Marty. He’s part of Hellfire Club, too. He’s a senior this year, so we’ll miss him next year.”

Steve waved. Eddie slid into the booth and Steve next to him.

“I wanted to celebrate Kyle not getting the role,” Marty said with a grin.

Steve eyed the new boy with new appreciation.

Eddie’s grin was feral. “In addition to Marty being in the club, he’s head of stage crew.”

“And assistant director this year,” Marty added with a grin.

“Ooh...” Gethin said. “Many hats this year.”

“Yeah,” Marty said. “It’s going to be hectic. I can’t wait.”

Steve grinned. Marty reminded him of Dustin a lot. “I’ve gotta ask. Why didn’t you want Kyle to be Thomson?”

“Because he cheated on the first audition,” Marty deadpanned.

All eyes went to Marty as they stared at him in shock.

“How?” Brian asked.

“He recorded a perfect version of himself singing and lipsynced with the Walkman in his pocket,” Marty explained.

“So how come he didn’t do it again?” Eddie asked.

Marty pulled something out his pocket. It was a small cassette tape. He waved it back and forth with a smirk.

“I may or may not have removed the tape just before he went on.”

Steve laughed. “I think you’re my new favorite person.”

Eddie clutched his chest. “I’m wounded, Stevie. So wounded that I am no longer your favorite person.”

“All right, all right,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Marty is my second favorite.”

“But I’m the one that destroyed your art project!” Gethin protested.

“Tied for second then,” Steve amended.

Suddenly the other boys were fighting over being his third favorite. Or fourth. There was some debate over that.

They only stopped when it came time to order.

Once they all got their drinks, Eddie held his up. “To Steve!”

“To Steve!” everyone else parroted back.

“Thanks, guys!” Steve said, blushing.

*

It was very late when Eddie pulled up to the now empty and darkened house.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve murmured. “That was fun.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Just let me know if you need a fake report to show your parents.”

Steve laughed. “I don’t think they’ve looked at so much as my report card since seventh grade. I think I’m good, man.”

Eddie just shook his head. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

“Good night, Eds,” Steve whispered. He got out the car and waved good night.

Eddie waved back and waited until Steve was inside, before his eyes slipped shut.

He was in so much trouble. It had been so long since Eddie had a crush on anyone that he forgot what the warning signs were.

Wanting to spend every minute of every day with them. Check.

Wanting to do things for them all the time. Check.

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest whenever he saw them. Check.

Wanting to be even more outrageous to catch their eye. Check.

Being jealous of other people spending time with them. Triple check.

Fuck.

When Steve had said that Marty was his new favorite person, Eddie’s own personal green-eyed monster began hissing in his ear. It immediately went running when Steve amended his statement, though.

Which was something Eddie should examine more closely. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t want to. In case the answer wasn’t the one he wanted.

Eddie was a little bit furious with himself. Steve was a known ladies’ man. like besides his hair, it’s what he was famous for. So unless Steve was secretly a Rock Hudson or Rupert Everett then Eddie was screwed. Crushing on straight boys was a death sentence to any gay man. But especially when that was all that was available in Bumfuck, Indiana.

He pulled out the driveway trying to come up with ways to break his crush on Steve without breaking their friendship.

By the time he got home he was no closer to an answer than he was at Steve’s.

Part 10 Part 11  Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

@shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @garden-of-gay @anaibis @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @jinxjinn @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @dangdirtydemons @lovelyscot  @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

[thebigoblin]

your hand on my waistline

tags: Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Alpha Derek Hale, Under-negotiated Kink, Somnophilia, Free Use, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slice of Life

A/N: The title is from Taylor's song "I Know Places." Also, posting this here, will put this up on ao3 in the next 12 hours or sm. It's already noon here and I've only moved from my bed to go to the washroom lol... the plot (or porn?) bunnies really took over this Sunday morning.

on ao3!

He wakes up syrupy slow, the blankness of a good night's sleep wanting to take him back, the brightness of the sun bringing him to consciousness. He wakes up like a gentle breeze, eyes closed, slowly getting on his knees, cracking his limbs. His eyes open when hands trail his waist, warm and big, his upper half bare. Kisses land in the middle of his shoulder blades, and the touch has him smiling and turning his head.

"'S early." Derek's eyes are open just enough for him to squint and for Stiles to glimpse a bit of green, and he tugs, and Stiles follows until his back and Derek's front are adjoined, both of them clad only in boxers. Derek's hands caress his stomach, his chest, and rest there. This position, with Stiles' body on one of Derek's hand, will have his partner complain of a numb arm when they truly, eventually get up. But for now...

They sleep.

*

This time, he wakes up to trailing kisses on his body. Warm lips, big hands, and a breathtaking smile greet him as he opens his eyes, and morning breath be damned. Stiles moves his hands to Derek's neck, fingers caressing the hair at the nape, and Derek comes closer, his body hovering over Stiles', and their lips meet. It's sweet and unhurried, open lips and eager tongues, few clacks of teeth and a cheeky lip bite from Stiles on Derek's bottom lip.

"Brat," Derek says when he pulls back. Stiles grins.

"How ever will I be punished?"

Derek's eyes flash. Ruby red, danger. He's supposed to fear it. He should — he's the prey. Derek is the predator, the so-called monster, the thing that doesn't exist.

Stiles wraps his legs around Derek's waist, calves digging into Derek's back, his hands playing with the elastic on Derek's boxers.

"You're such a brat." Derek means it, more than means it, eyes still red, and oh, here it comes. His right hand wraps around Stiles' neck, left hand on the other side of Stiles' head, and they're a breath apart, so close. "Do you know what happens to brats, Stiles?"

He has an idea. But he says, "No."

Derek grins, feral. "I'm going to teach you, then."

*

His hands are tied to the bedpost, they sting with the stretch, and his neck is bruised from Derek's tight grip on them. He doesn't choke him, but he holds, and Derek holds tight. There's no other way to hold, and Stiles wouldn't want there to be.

His legs are as wide apart as they can be, and Stiles wants to free his hands, wants to move them and grip Derek's hair, pull him up and make them kiss. But his hands aren't free, and Derek is between his legs, head bowed, lips and teeth working against Stiles' sensitive inner thighs, his balls.

Derek licks a long a stripe across his balls, and Stiles can only mewl. Derek has been at this for fucking hours. (Minutes. But to Stiles, time only exists when he's cumming, and right now, that is an eternity away).

"Fuck, baby, the noises you make. I could cum from just that," Derek's voice is a low register, hoarse, and damn it. Too sexy.

Stiles mewls in agreements, pants, "Please," like that will do anything. "Let me cum, please, please."

Derek looks at him. Direct. Commanding. "You're still speaking," he says. He doesn't say anything else.

Stiles can't take it. He loves what Derek doles out, he does, but today he has no patience. He stares into Derek's eyes, the ocean-forest colors, and pleads his case. "I'll do anything. Anything, just let me cum now, please."

Derek doesn't agree right away. Doesn't say anything. He just watches, nostrils flared, jaw set. Sees the desperation and the tempting image Stiles must make, tied and at Derek's mercy, begging, pleading, crying. And he takes Stiles' cock in his mouth, hard and leaking, and goes to town.

Tongue, fingers, and the suction of Derek's mouth has Stiles cumming moments after, gone on pleasure.

He's inchoherent, all the words in his extensive vocabulary reduced to whimpers and noises he cannot parse in his current state, and all Derek does is stroke him through the experience. He's hungry still, nowhere near done with Stiles, his cock rock-hard and touching Stiles' as he moves up after, cum-tasting lips on Stiles after he's stopped trembling, has finally gone lax.

It's the morning, he just had an orgasm, and Derek is kissing him and being the gentleman he is, soft with him. Washing him up with a wet cloth when Stiles makes a noise of disgust at his state, and it's only after Stiles turns around to be the little spoon, his hands free now, back to Derek's front, that he realizes only one of them chased their pleasure.

"Alpha?" He asks, bone-tired, almost asleep again.

"Shh, sleep. Just one thing — you're still okay with me using you, right?" He says it so casually, like getting to fuck Stiles wherever and whenever (within some limits they've both set, after hours and hours of conversation), isn't something unusual, when in fact Derek was the one most hesitant about it. They haven't really done it much, despite their love for the Alpha-Brat routine, but Stiles knows one thing for sure.

"Yup. Definitely a-ok with it. More than."

Derek brushes away hair from his forehead and rumbles with pleasure. "Sleep," he says again, and Stiles is off to dreamland with a smile on his face.

*

His trip to dreamland is rather small — or so he thinks. Because when he opens his eyes once again, it's not because he wants to, but rather something makes him do it.

The something happens to be Derek's cock thrusting in and out of him, brutally fast, on the edge of his orgasm. Stiles doesn't even have to spare a braincell to get on with the program, his own cock leaking at the pleasure Derek is taking from him, the little tremors going through Derek's body, hands across Stiles' waist, on him, hard and bruising.

"Hard, harder," Stiles' voice comes off sleep-rough, and maybe he's been asleep longer than mere minutes. Derek fucks into him, big and warm in his tight little hole, and it's perfect, this combination of them — Stiles is by no means a shy little virgin, but every time with Derek feels like the first time, and Derek has told him more than enough times that he feels the same. It's magic, Stiles will always say; Derek always counters with, "No, dumbass, it's love."

Maybe it's a combination of both, because goddamn, Derek hasn't been the only man he's been with but he is the only one to make him feel this way.

Derek heeds his words, too gone on chasing his pleasure to do his routine "do the opposite of what Stiles says" at the moment, and he cums like a wave, all inside Stiles, his thrusts becoming uncontrolled. There's a low growl, snap of teeth at Stiles' neck, and that's it, Stiles' dick joins the fun.

Stiles' insides fill with Derek's white-hot cum as the sheets below him fill with Stiles'.

They lay panting for about five-minutes, Stiles not minding the mess because he's got Derek's arms wrapped around him and his dick inside him; he's comfortable. And then Derek breaks the silence.

"Was a record, baby," Derek tells him, kisses the back of his neck, open-mouthed kisses that has Stiles blushing like he didn't just have sex with the man. He turns in Derek's hold, who watches him, a little cross-eyed, and with a small, wicked smile on his face. "Hey. Sleep good?"

"Good," Stiles answers, snuggling in against Derek's chest. It's warm, and good, and his Alpha is all rumbly, purring with pride. "Record?" His vocabulary still seems to be lost, stolen by Derek's cock and his ability to suck cock, too, and Derek, the bastard, gets it. So when he speaks, Stiles just knows he's grinning his "wolf got the canary" smile.

"Fucked you once already before you woke up. Took my time with you, baby, put my whole fist in you. You take me so well, like you were made for me, fuck, come here." Stiles leans more and more into Derek's chest at the revelation — Derek loves to take his time, and can spend hours edging his pleasure when it concerns Stiles and all that he has to offer. Which means Derek used him for about two hours; Stiles knows him, and he knows that, especially when it comes to preparing Stiles, Derek can take at least an hour.

And Stiles woke up when Derek was about to cum the second time. So, yep. Definitely two hours, at least. And he didn't even stir in all that time, not until a long time — definitely a record when it comes to Derek using him and him being not conscious for it.

Derek pulls his face up and Stiles leans into the kiss, so sweet and gentle, it gives him cavities. And it's so jarring from the words spilling from Derek's mouth, Stiles has to focus to realize that yep, this is happening.

It's always the quiet ones.

"Almost made you spill in your sleep, baby, and that made me want to cum. So I did. I already cleaned you," Derek answers his unasked question. "Even made breakfast, but put it into the fridge for later." Sex talk and food talk, in the same conversation. Stiles loves Derek more and more every single day.

"I love you," Derek kisses him at the words, still sweet, but possessive, too, this time. "Yours."

"Yours, Stiles, always yours."

Stiles grins and moves his pointer finger across Derek's chest, slow and sensual. "Could you do one more thing for me?"

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Other than lick our combined jizz from you and our bed?" Stiles nods. "What do you want, brat?" The switch is so quick — baby to brat — and Stiles lives for this.

"Bring me breakfast in bed and feed me food because, you know, sex legs and all that."

Derek rolls them around and pins him to the bed, on his side where the sheet is not wet, and fuck, there they go again, their cocks touching, creating unintended friction.

"At this rate you'll have to feed me lunch in bed, too."

Derek grins down at him, already teasing Stiles' hole with his fingers. "Made enough sandwiches to last till tomorrow morning."

Stiles says in-between whimpers — he's too sensitive — "Fuck. How long was I asleep for?"

"Long enough for me to plan what to feed you. Food-wise and me-wise."

Derek's clearly been spending too much time with him, because that's something he'll totally say.

"Yes, yes, yes," Stiles pants, and the day goes on and on, the sunlight on the floorboards of their bedroom turns into shadows cast by the moonlight, and then the lamps light the way. They eat food, cuddle, and kiss. And they fuck, brutal and quick, and they rest, and they make love, looking into each other's eyes and saying everything they've said till now and will say in the future.

They're in their own home, in love and with each other, and this is how they choose to spend this weekend.

*

Monday morning comes, and Stiles wakes up to Derek talking on his work phone. Stiles catches the tail-end of it.

"—feeling well. Thank you. Bye."

Stiles waits till the call disconnects and Derek puts the phone away on his nightstand.

"I tired you out, huh?"

"Stop talking. Sleep. Too early," Derek swallows Stiles' laughter with a kiss and even his protests of it's not too early, it's almost nine in the morning, according to the clock on the wall, ends in a huff and another kiss. "Sleep," Derek insists.

Stiles doesn't just have sex-legs. He has sex-body, and he's just not going to pass this up.

So, he sleeps, and the sleep comes easy with Derek's weight on him.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sh.writes #sterek fic