The Jake Problem (Jake Lockley X F!reader)

Taeil, to camera: Johnny is our master horticulturist. He knows all the scientific names for everything. Right, John?

Johnny: Yup.

Taeil: Like this! What’s this?

Johnny: Those are, of course, tomatoes. Or, Soulja-Boy Tell'ems.

Johnny, to camera: Whenever Taeil asks me for the Latin names of any of our plants, I just give him the names of rappers.

Taeil: And those over there?

Johnny: Those are some Diddies, some Bonethugs and Harmoniums right here. Oh, those Ludacrises are coming in great!

💌 best friends to lovers with johnny 💌

The Needs of Pain (part 2)

A/n since y’all liked part one!!

… i think i could make a part 3?? we’ll see lol 

This is the LONGEST thing i’ve written on here wow,, and the smuttiest 

Warnings: teasing, oral, unprotected sex (pls this is my first time writing full smut be gentle lol)

– 

Exhaustion is an odd result of pain. I didn’t think I was that tired after the burn. I certainly didn’t feel sleepy while Kirigan cleaned my shoulder and brushed his soft lips and sharp teeth along my neck to distract me from the pain. Why am I even thinking of that? Of the way his breath felt against my skin, the way his tongue soothed any bites he left against my skin. I breathe out flatly. 

Stop thinking of him. Stop thinking of him in that context–that’s why he did it. He enjoys getting under people’s skin, that’s why he’s always insulting the way I see the world. My hand reaches to my neck, touching my skin where I can still feel his lips on my skin, tracing the faint marks I had seen in the bathroom mirror.

I should have asked the healer to get rid of them before they fully formed, but the thought of showing them to anyone was too embarrassing to bear. I force my hand away, dropping it onto my pillow. 

He had acted so strange today, he had been so blunt. It was a tactic. He wants to be in my head and I’m giving him what he wants. I sigh, rolling over and pulling my duvet further up my body. It’s too hot for this. Ugh. I kick the duvet off of my legs, letting my nightgown wrinkle up my body. Strong hands could pull the fabric up in a similar, yet much more euphoric way. 

No. Who’s thoughts are these? The fact that I picture the same hands that dabbed at my burn earlier today has me questioning my sanity. I can’t sleep like this. Kirigan wanted to be in my head and now he is. Damn him. I can’t stand him which means I can never have him.

Desire has nothing to do with tolerance. The thought leaves my face warm and stomach twisted. 

I sit up sharply, sliding out of bed tiredly. I’ll get some air and everything will be fine. The moon will clear my mind.

The Little Palace is strangely twisting at night, all long shadows and yellow lantern light. I slip out of my room quickly, but my thoughts are not immediately banished with the change of scenery. I must be ill. Infection must have set in regardless of my efforts and the healer sealed it beneath my skin and now it’s impacting me. Fever. I’m delusional with fever. 

“I didn’t take you the kind for a late night trist.” 

His voice leaves the hairs on the back of my neck standing like soldiers at attention. I manifested him the same way people manifest the devil. “Air.” My defense is childish. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d get some air.” 

The sound of even footsteps leaves me frozen in place. “What keeps someone like you awake?” It’s like he can read through me. “Thoughts of me?” 

He can never know. “Obviously.” 

My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, he lets out an almost humored breath. “Or perhaps it’s pain.” 

The comment is so confusing I almost don’t realize he’s bringing up my shoulder injury. How had I let him see me so vulnerable? Why did he seem somewhat concerned in his own way? 

“My shoulder’s perfectly fine.” Good. A normal direction for this conversation to head. “It took the Healer all of two minutes.” 

The touch on my shoulder is so sudden I almost jump. Kirigan doesn’t shy away at that, fingers firmly brushing down the skin. “It feels the same.” 

I could scream. His strange observation means nothing to me, but the implication is enough to drive me mad. The implication that he knows my skin well enough to be able to judge whether the healed skin feels different is sickening. I’m tired of this. 

I turn on my heels, all of my tiredness and irritation twisting in me. “Even if it didn’t, it’s none of your concern.” 

“I didn’t realize you were extra irritable when you’re tired.”

Every conversation with him leaves me feeling petulant. “I’m not tired.” I cross my arms, keep my expression set. “I just–I wanted to get some air.” 

“Hm.” He takes a step forward, preparing to close the small distance I’d managed to create between us. “And why is that?” 

The question leaves me irritated in an odd way. A flat way. There’s a narcissistic entitlement in that question. An entitlement to my thoughts. I shrug. “I hoped it’d make me tired.” 

Kirigan draws his eyebrows together, curiosity and something resembling amusement playing at his expression. “If you’d like to be tired, I think I know a few ways to be of assistance.”

A faint, aggravating warmth comes to my face. Not only did my lie earn me a ridiculous innuendo, it’s also trapped me in a corner I cannot escape. Healing from the burn had left me pathetically drowsy. There’s no way he can’t see through me, a tired haze has to be visible on my face. My eyelids feel weighted and I’m too distracted by my deep longing for sleep to hold onto irritation. 

“I’m sure I’ll manage on my own.” The words are not meant to be a challenge, just a way to dismiss him. I don’t think he takes them that way. 

He draws his eyebrows together, eyes threatening to lose that curious quality. Kirigan steps forward, I step back blankly, desperate to keep enough distance to keep what’s left of my wits about me. He ignores my reaction, taking another step forward. I take another step back. My back touches the wall. I am a mouse and he’s an excited cat. 

“You don’t have to,” his voice is too low, too intimate, “I’m not sure that’s something you want to understand.” 

My chin raises just slightly, a silent protest. “Dependency is a fatal flaw.” 

“So is desire,” his reply is much too quick. “Desire is worse, because one can resist dependency based on pride…but desire, that is something that one sacrifices for.” 

Maybe if I was less tired I’d bother to interpret his words a little more. But all I can focus on is his tone–the quality of it. “You sound heavy.” My voice is as light as the night breeze I was craving moments ago. “But you always sound heavy.” It’s the wistful observation of someone slowly disappearing. “At least you’re pretty,” I muse, falling more and more distant by the second.

Something soft breaks across his features, his lips quirking. “Pretty?” 

I rest my back against the wall comfortably, eyes shutting without permission. “I’m sure I’ll regret that comment in a moment.” 

He stays silent, but his presence does not disappear. I can’t tell if I’m glad for it. The warm touch on my shoulder startles me out of my drowsy trance. Panic has me ready to jump off the wall, but Kirigan brushes his thumb up and down my shoulder. His touch sets any skin that comes in contact with him aflame. I shouldn’t find the gesture so comforting. My eyes flutter shut again, my body relaxing against the wall. When my protest dies out before it begins, Kirigan shifts closer. I’m confused, but too at peace to answer. Something velvety and warm brushes against my collar. Soft and warm and electric. He’s kissing my skin again. 

My lips part in hopes of arguing, but when his teeth graze the skin he already marked earlier I’m gone. My eyes shut again, but this time it’s different. Pleasure and drowsiness clear me of all inhibitions as his touch becomes more and more assured. I let him test me, his mouth moving against any and all exposed skin. I don’t even stop him when I feel his hands graze the hem of my nightgown, wrinkling it the way I imagined earlier. 

“Kirigan.” I need to find my strength, but what’s the point of strength when his touch leaves me so warm? The only acknowledgement of my protest he offers me is the lingering squeeze of my thigh before his long fingers begin to graze towards the inside of my thighs. I have no choice but to let his lips brush up my neck, his teeth grazing my skin the way they did earlier today. “Kirigan.” I try to sound firmer, but he destroys the rest of my sentence before I have the chance to get it out. His teeth nip the base of my neck, ruining my protest for a second time.

 Maybe if I was less tired I’d be able to fight him off a little better, but I’m so drowsy I had trouble thinking before he started touching me. My eyes shut in both bliss and exhaustion. His thumb presses into my hip. Something in me stalls as his fingers brush the hem of my underwear–testing me, challenging me. I open my eyes on instinct, but he remains unbothered, slipping his thumb beneath the only fabric that divides us in order to better grip my hip.

I stiffen because of how badly I want to melt. This is bad. This is insane. We’re in a hallway in the middle of the night and he’s General Kirigan. Whatever attraction I feel is another tactic to manipulate me. 

“We need to stop.” The command is weak, my voice as dry as my resolve. 

He angles his head in order to regard me a little better. His expression is one of mock confusion as he smirks. Actually smirks. “Stop what?” False innocence drips from his voice as he leans towards me, expression amused as his lips near my own. “I haven’t even started yet.” My eyes widen, something that amuses him. “Y/n?”

I’m left on edge. I’m left wanting. My lips part flatly, but words feel so distant. “Yes?” 

“What happened earlier?” His voice is the kind of sinful that’s meant to coax. Kirigan brushes his thumb across my shoulder, eyes watching mine cautiously. “How did you get burned?” 

I push against the sultry quality of his voice. “I told you–an accident.” 

“Hm.” His eyebrows draw together in a surprisingly soft way. I stare at him freely, but he ignores my gaze, eyes locked on my newly healed skin. Is he truly that concerned? “Whose accident?” 

I swallow once. “My own.” He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m not exactly the most coordinated person, you’ve witnessed my clumsiness yourself.” 

Kirigan is not convinced. Perhaps he will never fully buy my partial lie. His grip on me hardens. Restraint. I may not be able to win against his paranoia, but I might be able to distract him. Cautiously, I move one hand forward, touching the hand that’s on my shoulder. I hesitate. Touching him without prompting almost feels too intimate. I’m being ridiculous. I brush my fingers against the back of his palm, letting my touch trail up his forearm. 

“Y/n.” My name borders on a warning. 

I suppress a smile, playing into my sleepiness as I tilt my head to the side. “Yes?” 

He doesn’t reply, expression tightening as my hand snares around his wrist, pulling it off my shoulder with more care than I thought myself capable of. The intensity of his gaze is enough to burn me. I turn my full attention to his hand. I’d never admit this out loud, but this isn’t the first time I’ve thought about how objectively attractive his hands are. I kiss each of his knuckles slowly, brushing my lips against his skin tentatively. 

To my surprise, he allows my indulgence. I glance at him through my lashes. Kirigan’s eyes are shut, expression bordering on pained. “Kirigan?” 

He opens his eyes but his expression does not ease. His other hand leaves my thigh, grabbing the low collar of my nightgown with such a fierce speed it takes me a second to realize what’s happening. He pulls me away from the wall in a way that borders on violent. 

“I don’t know who you’re protecting, but I guarantee you they’re not worth it.” The words are acidic. He’s seething. “I grow tired of your resistance.” 

If he hadn’t transformed into something so untamed, I might have had enough gall to tell him I grow tired of being toyed with. I say nothing, instead I take in the abrasiveness of his anger, the tension of his grip on the thin fabric that clothes me. I am unflinching in my assessment in the most tired way possible, eyes struggling not to shut and body desperate to rest, but even more desperate for him. His eyes stare into mine, searching for something I am too far gone to offer. He must realize my sleepiness is genuine because he soon drops his gaze, taking his time in analyzing the even rise and fall of my chest as well as the hint of cleavage his grip on my nightgown is exposing. Pure heat finds itself in my face, chest, and worst of all—core. His staring lacks any shame. 

Kirigan parts his lips as if to speak but then instead takes a moment to lick them. The thought of his tongue in relation to lips only makes the burning in me worse. It’s practically an ache. A needy one. 

“I grow weary of your lack of understanding.” 

Understanding? “What is there to understand?” 

His head angles itself to one side but he doesn’t meet my gaze. The hold he has on me loosens just enough so that his hold on me is no longer taut. That should not disappoint me the way it does. I wait patiently, ignoring the bundle of unexplained nerves in my stomach as best as I can. Something strange colors his features when he finally looks at me again, something almost vulnerable. 

“I brought you here.” He sounds farther from me than ever. “I…” His exhale is gentle, but his expression is quick to harden. “Who are you so willing to protect?”

I must be really tired because his voice sounds like it borders on heart ache. If I didn’t fear Arthur’s safety I’d tell Kirigan everything if it meant his pain would dissipate. I never thought Kirigan’s potential pain would bother me, but now that I’ve seen him look stricken by something so weighted–now that I’ve seen the way he wears pain–I don’t want to be the one to give him that. I want to be the one to give him some kind of sanctuary. The thought leaves me with a desire to flea. 

“Will you just believe me when I say it’s no one?” In a way that’s the truth. Arthur is not particularly significant unless you’re a young Grisha female with a desire for heart ache. “No one worth mentioning at least.” 

He’s quick to retighten his hold on my nightgown, leaving the fabric taut and more of me exposed. “You being desperate to protect them makes them worth interest.” A different response than I expected. 

My lips thin. “Only because it was a small accident. They don’t deserve to be punished over the briefest loss of focus.” 

I take his silence as an indicator that he is considering my words. His free hand finds my shoulder as he pulls me even closer to him by the fabric he’s gripping. “And if I were to revoke the threat of punishment?” His voice is the definition of temptation, low and promising and coddling me with its sinfulness. I still as Kirigan leans forward so that his lips are practically on my ear. “Then would you tell me? If I released you from the binds of your nobility?” My lips part but I have no words prepared. Before I can think of what to say, his lips graze the side of my jaw before his teeth nip at the end of my ear. “Tell me just to humor me.” 

The command doesn’t make sense to me, but from his lips it feels important. “You won’t hurt them for what happened?” 

His voice seems rougher than before, “Would that make a difference?” 

“It would make all the difference.” I don’t like the honesty of my words. 

Kirigan allows one hand to trail down my waist–a gesture I consider obscenely intimate when paired with the soft brush of his lips on my collar. “I already know who.” His voice is a dark hum. “I was always going to know one way or another–but it’s good to know you would have told me.”

My stomach lurches, dread pouring into me like tar. Before fear can force me to take action, Kirigan begins to leave open mouth kisses from the top of my jaw to the bottom of my neck, taking his time to assault any spot of skin with his tongue that he wants. This reminds me too much of earlier–touches meant to distract from pain with the use of pleasure. 

“Are you–” His mouth is now on my collar, threatening to destroy my question. “Are you going to hurt him?”

At that Kirigan straightens. The sudden lack of contact leaves me cold. I shouldn’t be thinking of him. Of his touch. “I’m curious,” he draws out each syllable, delighting in my nerves, “Would you bear his punishment?” 

I’m not sure. I hate that. I haven’t known Arthur for that long, and while he’s kind, he also seems to see all women as replaceable. That isn’t reason for him to endure Kirigan’s punishment but I don’t know him well enough to just blindly agree to that. I loathe myself for not being noble enough to take Arthur’s punishment instantly. 

“What kind of punishment?” 

Kirigan’s expression twists into a greedy smile. He pushes me back easily, pressing me into the wall with more confidence than ever. I’m silent in my confusion until he presses himself against me and I feel something hard and bulging press into where I’m neediest. I stifle a gasp of surprise and something similar to pleasure. “I’m sure I could think of something for you.” I’d care more about my confusion if hot need wasn’t flooding my thoughts and my body with undeniable desperation. “I haven’t even spoken to him.” I exhale, untrusting relief desperate to escape me. Kirigan is quick to lean forward, lips brushing my ear as he prepares to whisper. “I’m more likely to harm him because he has your favor than anything else.”

Warmth burns my face. “He doesn’t–he’s not exactly the one that holds my favor.”

The heat of his breath adds to my burning as he presses his bulge into my core again. “And who does?” 

I’m not sure what he considers favor, but if it has anything to do with wanting he wins. But he can never know that. “There are some contenders, but no one yet.” 

His hand moves off my hip and nears my throat. “Would it be too bold to assume I’m on the short list?”

He’s two steps away from taking me in an open hallway, I doubt he finds much bold. “Do you want to be?” 

Kirigan’s hand tightens on my throat. “I’ve made it clear from the beginning what I want.” His words are lethal and each syllable has him restricting my airflow a little more. Something in me must be broken because my neediness only worsens. “I brought you here because I see all that you could be. Forget being a Saint, we could be gods.” The sentiment is so raw it’s almost harder to bear than his tight grip on my neck. He leans close again, his scent only adding to my budding lightheadedness. “Say the word, and I could have you praising me like I’m already a god.” My stomach knots in both nerves and insatiable hunger. “Though I’m the one that would be doing the worshipping.” 

My resolve is shattered, leaving me broken and twisting. He releases his hold on my neck in order to move his hand beneath my chin. There is nothing gentle about the way he jerks my head forward, forcing me to look into his eyes. Something about the look he gives me has me melting. His eyes are searching for something in me.

He must find whatever he’s looking for because I feel his touch against my heat, fingers pressing against fabric. I bite my lip on instinct, suppressing the sound of my undoing. Kirigan’s eyes never leave mine as the hand on my chin moves to brush against my bottom lip. 

“I can only give you what you want if you tell me what that is.” 

He exhales slowly, pressing his thumb against my lip downwards. My mouth parts on instinct, something that he takes well. His thumb enters my mouth slowly, taking in my reaction as I taste his skin on my tongue. Kirigan pulls his thumb away from my tongue slowly, a thin string of saliva connecting him to my mouth. With one swift tug, his free hand pulls the only fabric separating him from where I want him most down my thighs. His expression reveals nothing as his thumb, still wet with my saliva, is pressed against my core. His touch teases my clit, just barely brushing where I need him most. The whine that escapes me is so desperate I’m ashamed I can’t help it. 

“So wet already,” his appraisal is gentle, the praise whispered against my throat as his lips brush against my neck. “So wet, so needy that you’d let me take you in this hallway and I’ve hardly touched you.” His finger presses further into me. I let out another pathetic breath. “A pity, someone like you–so painfully under cared for.” I’m reduced to nothing by his words and touch. “What I’d give to undue you here, against the wall–I’d have you crying so loudly everyone would know that I’ve claimed you, that I’ve made you mine.” Before I can reflect on his words, he steps back, pulling my underwear back up as quickly as he yanked it down. 

I let out an instinctual whine. My hand moves to his arm, grabbing him like he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth. “What–” 

Kirigan squeezes my hand, a predator’s smile on his lips. “I want to feel all of you,” his hand squeezes my hip, “I can’t exactly do that against a wall, dove of mine,” he leans forward, lips brushing against my jaw in a way that leaves me chilled and melting at the same time, “At least not the first time.” 

His whisper forces my breathing to hitch, a fact that he notices with an amused look as his thumb brushes against my collar. Kirigan pulls me away from the wall easily. Even the causal touch feels electric against my skin. 

The walk towards my room is tense, his hands never leaving me as if he’s aware of how necessary it is to keep me distracted to ward off my better sense. When we reach my door, Kirigan opens it like it’s his. Entitled. Typical. 

I step into the room, his touch lingering on my arm. A brief shyness pushes itself into my chest. I had let Kirigan touch me in a public space and lead me back to my room. The door closes. I don’t turn. 

Kirigan’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “Shy, now?” His question is teasing, rekindling the fire beneath my skin as he places an open mouth kiss on my neck. He plays with the thin strap of my nightgown, pushing it off my shoulder. He kisses down my neck, collarbone, and shoulder. My inhibitions are melted away again. “When your breathing stalls like that,” his whisper is enough to elicit a desperate shudder, “I am left desperate.” 

He leans forward, mouth trailing down my chest, coming dangerously close to my breasts. The electric current of his touch is all consuming and addicting. I press my back into his chest. His hands are the opposite of shy, touching me everywhere except where I’m most desperate. Kirigan’s hand places itself between my thighs, using his thumb to tease my entrance. I let out a needy sound. And then he retracts his hand, grabbing my shoulders and turning me in one swift motion. 

“Kirigan.” 

His eyes are dark, clouded by something I don’t understand but am too aware that I reciprocate. “Tell me that I have your favor.” His words are taut, bordering on snapping. Kirigan’s grip on me tightens hard enough to bruise, an assertive need taking over him. “That you want me.”

Desire, pride, and rationality twist in my stomach, leaving me too distracted to form words. My gaze drops to the ground on instinct, something Kirigan clearly finds unacceptable because he’s quick to grab my chin and force my eyes to meet his. 

I swallow once, courage withering beneath the look in his eyes. It’s as twisted as a spindling shadow, but the look is fierce admirational, appreciation so deep I could drown in it. It scares and consols me all at once. “I want you.” There’s something pained about such powerful emotion. I loathe and am empowered by it all at once. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” The words leave my throat scorching with their sincerity. 

As soon as the words leave me, he’s closing the distance between us, the slightest exhale of tension leaving his lips before they meet mine, prepared to devour me. I reciprocate his actions on instinct alone. There is no hesitation, no space, and yet it is not enough. Not enough and yet I don’t know how to be closer. But Kirigan does. One of his hands cup my cheek, coaxing me towards him as if I could possibly have the will to leave him. He steps forward, guiding me to step back. I obey fluidly until I feel something hit the back of my legs. It’d startle me if I wasn’t so consumed by his touch.

His mouth begins to move away from my skin. I chase after him, desperate to keep him touching me. He stops me by placing a hand on my shoulder, a warning about my neediness. I pout, but as he studies me I pant. Maybe the excuse for air was a good idea. I don’t fight the uneasiness of my breathing as I hold Kirigan’s gaze. He regards me with a patience I consider unbearable, taking in the determined look in his eyes, my swollen lips, disheveled hair, and the top of my night gown that’s half falling off. 

It’s in this moment I realize how much more vulnerable than him I am. 

If Kirigan notices any shift in me, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he adjusts his hand on my cheek, his thumb brushing the hot skin gently. “You are everything.” His voice is cracking glass. “Everything that’s good, at least.” 

Maybe he did notice my initial reaction because I am no longer certain that I am the one that’s most vulnerable. “You’re better than you think.” I only say this because it would only weigh on me more to stay silent. “I see it and you don’t want me to.” 

His hand continues to stroke my cheek. “I want you to see all of me.” The heavy beating of my heart seems to stall in my chest. Kirigan drops his hand before grasping the hem of my nightgown. He pulls the fabric upwards easily, bundling the fabric above my hip. “I want you to…” He exhales flatly, pulling the fabric upwards even more. Nerves flood my stomach as he leans towards me, kissing down my jaw. “To know me,” he whispers against my throat.

I am nothing but uneven breaths as he mouth moves down my chest, stalling only once he’s reached my breasts. He pushes me forward easily, guiding me so that I’m laying on my bed. He’s quick to move over me, kissing up my neck as he adjusts so that I’m against the headboard.

When he pulls away again, I’m left pouting. He grins, fueled by my disappointment. “Don’t worry,” he breathes, fingers hooking around the waistband of my underwear before tugging it down my legs easily, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” 

Being so exposed has my doubts flooding back, but Kirigan is quick to fight against my instincts in a way only he seems capable of. He squeezes the inside of my upper thigh before leaning down, pressing his mouth onto the skin his fingers just touched. His kisses here are meant to leave me even more desperate, each nip and fleeting pass of his tongue is lazy yet intentional. I am incapable of doing else besides letting out pathetic whines. 

He ignores where I need him most, kissing up my thigh, across my lower stomach, and then down my other thigh. Kirigan continues the pattern across my skin, ignoring any pleas I swallow my pride to give. He is not rushed by my words or cries or the occasional desperate adjustment of my hips. 

Kirigan lifts his head slightly, releasing my inner thigh with an obscene ‘pop’. “Patience.” His fingers trail up my thigh and over my core, teasing my entrance with his lithe fingers. “Unless you’re ready to beg?” 

It’s a challenge, like everything else. The urge to give him my pride to satisfy the electric desire I’m not sure I’m capable of bearing. But then I note his tense hold on my thigh. A sign of restraint, of want. 

“And if I want you to beg for me?” I don’t know where the words come from, but they charge the room with potential. 

Something strange crosses his fingers before his lips tilt upwards in a dark way. “Would you like the strength of that? To have someone like me powerless before you?” My face warms. Kirigan leaves a lingering kiss on my thigh before he moves off the bed. I sigh at the loss of contact, but my tired neediness stalls at the sound of his belt coming undone. “I want to see you on your knees.” I sit up carelessly, desperate to obey him. I’m kneeling in front of him in an instant, taking in his length. The size of it has me gaping. “Open your mouth.” 

I take the order more eagerly than I should, but I make no move to take him. This is just another challenge. I keep my eyes on his as I stick my tongue out before licking the bottom of his member all the way up to his tip. The sound he lets out is pure sin. I lick his tip slowly, each motion of my tongue is strategic as I finally place him in my mouth. I hollow my cheeks, moving up and down slowly. 

The pace is not enough for him, he grips my hair from my scalp as he thrusts into my mouth. The motion is more powerful than I expected and I am left unable to breathe. My slight gag does the opposite of discourage him, he repeats the motion again and again, pushing himself into me until I can feel him in my throat. 

The sounds he lets out are a chorus to me, but it’s not enough. I need more control, I need a way to make him beg. I raise a hand, wrapping it around the base that I cannot fit into my mouth. I stroke him once slowly, making a point as I try to push myself back in order to make him want me more. 

He groans again. I make a point of pushing myself off of him. Precum protrudes his tip. I lick it off of him slowly. I lick up and down his member in the smallest way possible. 

“Y/n,” the restraint in his voice fuels my teasing, “Tease me and you’ll still be overwhelmed by want when the sun rises.” 

A pout tugs at my lips before I open my mouth again, taking Kirigan to my limit. He lets me set the pace of my bobs at first, but then he becomes desperate, holding me in place by the roots of my hair as he moans and thrusts into me without restraint. He ignores my choking as he continues until he throws his head back, letting out a quick praise of my name.

He finishes in my mouth and I swallow all he offers me greedly. I back off my knees slowly, throat burning as his member leaves my mouth. “On the bed.” He’s turned into something insatiable. “Now.” 

I move back to my bed, laying in the same position as before. He takes his time approaching me. When he finally gets to me, he kisses my thighs easily. I let out a small breath before something that’s pure pleasure meets my core. His tongue laps upwards lazily, grazing my clit but not quite touching it.  My hips thrust towards his face, but with hand he holds me down. A coil in my stomach continues to build as he angles himself more purposefully, tongue finally taking care of my clit. My gasps become less and less reasonable as he continues to lap at all that my body has to offer. The coil tightens, I see stars–and then, like cruelty personified, he pulls away. His absence leaves me ready to cry out. 

My desperation only fuels Kirigan as he lines himself with my entrance. Concern twists my stomach as I consider how full my mouth felt when he was in me. I expect some level of warning, but he thrusts into me with no warning. I let out a pathetic cry, but that means nothing to him as he pulls out just to thrust into me with full force again.

“Only I can hurt you,” he demands, thrusting into me as I call out his name. My eyes water at the sensation of such fullness, pleasure and pain combining themselves in a way that leaves me incapable of thought. “Your tears,” he muses, one hand moving to wipe at a tear rolling down my cheek, “Are mine.” 

His thrusts become more and more brutal, less and less even. Each movement of his body in mine leaves me begging for more and less at the same time. He continues until the coil in my stomach tenses to the point of breaking. 

“Kirigan,” I manage, voice far away, “I’m going t–”

“I know,” he offers, “finish with me, dove.” His hand finds my throat, adding the slightest bit of restrained pressure. “And do not hold in your cries.” 

Two more sharp thrusts have us both finishing, calling out for each other as we try to draw out the high of our orgasms together. 

We stay intertwined like that for longer than we should, but then Kirigan stands. I envy his ability to do so. I don’t call for him even though I still don’t want to be alone here. A moment later, I hear him approach. I’m too drowsy to ask what he’s doing as a damp towel is wiped against my forehead and inner thighs. 

When he’s finished cleaning me, some raw emotion settles in my chest. “Are you leaving?” 

Kirigan hesitates. “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

I roll over, the motion leaves my body aching. Kirigan accepts my invitation, crawling beneath my sheets and adjusting our bodies so that he can rest his hand on my back. 

–

Tags: @luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy 

@i-padfootblack-things

 @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @benbarnes-supremacy

@we-love-our-bandz @fire-in-her-veinz @weirdowithnobeardo @bvudzsoo @kaque @ponyboys-sunsets @coldlilheart @granillx @dreamohlittledreamofme @sanna2020 @zaynzierulez 

@ive-died-everday-waiting-for-you @xxaerynxx @ralesera @tea-effect 

@tranquillitymoon

Ride Me

PAIRING: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Reader

SUMMARY: You were always fascinated by Ben’s tentacles and he noticed that. Now he’s going to use that information to his advantage

GENRE: Smut.

WARNINGS: Fem-Reader, lewd, riding tentacles, degrading and praising

WORD COUNT: 980 words

You were always fascinated by Ben’s tentacles. Like how do they work? How does he summon them? Does he feel pain when someone hurts on or the tentacles? How can he summon a specific number of tentacles? Can he summon more than 4 tentacles? And a lot more questions are always roaming on your mind.

Whenever Ben used his tentacles you couldn’t help but stare at them. They were amazing. The way he could control them even if they weren’t part of his body. You tried to be as cautious as possible when looking at his tentacles, but of course he noticed. At first he thought that maybe you were shocked or scared of them, but the more he used them, the more he realized that it was all the opposite. You were admitting them. So he decided to use them whenever he could. Being the person he was, he loved being admired and you were giving that to him.

Of course your thoughts didn’t stop there. The thought of him using the tentacles on you was something you really wanted but you were scared to even suggest to him something like that. What if he felt hurted and thought that you weren’t satisfied at all with only him? So you kept your thoughts to yourself. On the other side, Ben wanted the same. He normally uses his tentacles most of the time and he has been wanting to use them on you for quite some time now but he didn’t know how to come to you with the idea. Yeah, you loved the tentacles, but what if you had limits with them? Life was too short to keep only wondering. And it all came to one day while making out with Ben.

Ben was kissing you passionately, something you really enjoyed since most of the time he was just needy, not that you complained. You didn’t even notice when all of your clothes were on the floor of his room, the kisses he was giving you left you dizzy. You started to leave wet kisses on his neck but he stopped you.

“Wait. I want to try something” you could hear doubt in his voice. As if he was scared of what he was about to do. You wanted to ask about what he was talking about but the tentacle coming out of him caught you by surprise. “Ride it” you were surprised. You stayed in silence for a while, looking at the tentacle that was in front of you. Looking at your response, or well, lack of it, Ben decided to take the matter into his hands.

“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to ride the tentacle” you looked at him in disbelief. Another tentacle came out of Ben, this one wrapping around your waist, making you get up a little bit so the other one could slide between your body and Ben’s. You didn’t need the tentacle guidance to know what to do next. You descended on top of the tentacle. The coldness of the tentacle made you shiver at the contact. “Go on, ride it like the good girl you are” you didn’t need to be told twice. You started to move slowly, noticing the difference from when you rode his leg or his cock. It felt wet, not only your juices help you slide better through the length of the tentacle, but the gooey substance that coated the tentacle was also helping. The sounds were filthy, and that only made you more turned on than you already were.

Ben was staring at you. The way you moved at your own pace, giving yourself the pleasure you needed, the way your face showed the pleasure you were providing yourself, your chest coming up and down due to your erratic breathing, the way you looked into his eyes while riding one of his tentacles. God, you were so hot. Ben grabbed the back of your neck, kissing you. The tentacle around your waist started to move your hips faster. You moaned into the kiss. Ben realized that at any moment you would cum. He managed to move the tentacle you were riding, making the pleasure stronger.

“That’s it slut, cum for me. Be a good girl and cum on my tentacle like the needy whore you are” it took only a few more seconds and you came on the tentacle, your whole vision blurred and heat waves were going through your whole body. A soft moan came out of you. The view of you cumming was a view Ben never grew tired of. And it made him proud to be the reason for your pleasure.

Ben gave you small pecks, praising how good you were for him. Always saying as you were told. Again, the tentacle around your waist moved you up, and you felt the tentacle you just used to get yourself off playing with your entrance.

“Ben…”

“Just do this for me, ok?” How could you say no to him? You nodded and the tentacle started to enter inside you. Your mouth opened up, it felt good. The irregular form of the tentacle managed to fill you up perfectly, but you still preferred his cock. The tentacle started to move in and out of you making you feel overwhelmed due to your previous orgasm. Ben reached for your clit, rubbing it, helping you get closer and closer to your high. It was just too much.

“So tight… it doesn’t matter how many times I fuck you, you still manage to be as tight as possible” his words were what you need. You came around the tentacle.

“That’s my good girl” Ben’s tentacles got off of your body, making you collapse on his body. He held you. You could feel him leave kisses all over your face. Using his tentacles on you was definitely something he’s going to do more often.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

n a v i g a t i o n

Bad Boy Type

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Girls' night at Billy and Max's new place takes a turn when El insists on you marrying Billy.

Warnings: Mentions of Neil, extreme fluff, mutual pining (because I'm a whore for that shit), language

Word Count: 4056

A/N: This might be the fluffiest thing I've written. It's also the longest. And yes, I still have requests to finish. But life really said, "It's Billy's time," and I'm not mad about it.

You were fiercely protective over Max and El since you met. They became the younger sisters you never had. You’d do anything for them. And you always made sure to plan something with them as often as possible.

Today, you three were holed up at Max and Billy’s new place. It wasn’t much. It was a steal since it’d been so run down no one else wanted it. You and the rest of your group helped fix up what you could. After everything you’d all been through, it created an untouchable bond. And everyone was eager to help in whatever way they could, especially once Max confided in you about Billy’s father. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Neil was a shitty person. He gave off enough hostility to power a freight train. A few months after renovating, the house was finally livable. And between your car and Billy’s, they moved within the hour.

All three of you were on the floor around the coffee table, snacking on candy and discussing very important business.

“Okay, okay,” Max said, trying to rein in her laughter. “El, kiss, marry, kill…The Outsiders.”

You grinned and leaned closer as El looked down in thought.

“Kiss Sodapop, marry Johnny, and…I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said timidly.

And because it was El, you and Max accepted that.

You faced Max. “I’m guessing yours would be the same?”

“I’m killing Steve,” she added, and you snickered. “What about you?”

You hummed, running through the characters before picking three.

“Kill Two-Bit, kiss Darry, marry Dally,” you said with a nod.

“Dally’s an asshole!” Max groaned, slapping her thighs.

“But he’s hot,” you countered.

“But he’s an asshole,” she repeated, giving you a look.

“But he’s hot.”

After a few seconds, you all started giggling. You really loved spending time with these two.

El grew quiet, deep in thought, and she made you and Max stop laughing with her question.

“What about Billy?”

Your brow furrowed. “Billy?”

She nodded. “Would you marry him?”

Your face grew warm. Did El think because you liked the bad boy character in a film, you liked one in reality?

Billy had never been outright rude to you—his attitude rubbed you the wrong way—cocky and smug like he knew he could get away with almost anything. It wasn’t until after the Mind Flayer that you befriended him.

You’d describe your friendship as…quiet. You didn’t hang out together—only in a group with everyone or Steve and the other adults. Usually, though, you saw him most when you, Max, and El hung out.

You were the girls’ friend first and foremost. When you started picking Max up when they lived with their parents, he always scowled at you through the door as she raced to your car. Later, you thought it had something to do with Neil’s reactions to his stepdaughter not being home even though he knew where Max was. You had enough knocks on the door from Billy to put two and two together.

Now, Billy was relaxed when you picked her up or stayed over. You sometimes wondered if he was glad Max had you to rely on now that it was just him and his stepsister. If she ever needed anything, he could count on you to lend him a hand.

So while he wasn’t the same rage-filled boy you knew in high school, his reputation still preceded him. Though now you knew him in a different light—provider, protector, and maybe that was why you started to like him.

You shook your head to rid yourself of that thought.

“I…Well, I…I don’t…” Jesus Christ! How were you supposed to answer this without giving yourself away?

Just then, a car door slammed. Billy’s home.

He threw his jacket on the hook and his keys on the table and stopped when he noticed you, Max, and El.

His eyes seemed to linger on you before addressing everyone.

“Hey,” he said, mentally kicking himself. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say? Maybe “you look nice,” not “hey.”

“How was work,” you asked, still trying to shake off El’s question and the fact that he walked in as if summoned.

“Fine. Didn’t know you’d be over.” He would've cleaned up and made it look nice. Maybe then he could cook you dinner.

He had to stop from asking if this little get-together was overnight. He sure hoped so.

“I dragged her out of her house for girls' day. They’re sleeping over, too,” Max said. Maybe she could read his mind—maybe that was why most of your time was spent at Billy’s place and not yours—because Max knew he needed an excuse to talk to you since the Mind Flayer.

He nodded slowly and gestured toward the bathroom.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Order pizza or I can make spaghetti?” he asked.

You tilted your head at his words. Billy cooked?

It made sense. You’re sure he’s had to fend for himself most of his life. You just never thought about him in the kitchen.

Before you could say anything, El said, “I like spaghetti.” And that seemed to settle it.

When Billy left, Max leaned forward. “Don’t worry, he’s actually a really good cook.”

And to play off your daydreams of Billy cooking you breakfast, you said, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

—

When Billy emerged from the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips, you were both relieved and disappointed your back faced him.

The girls were telling you their boyfriend troubles, and it took everything in you not to imagine the remaining water tracing Billy’s toned stomach.

“Sometimes I think you have the right idea,” Max said, flopping back in the chair.

You blinked, coming back to reality. “Me? What idea is that?”

“Being single.” She shrugged. “Boys are a pain in the ass.”

You rolled your eyes. “While that is true, sometimes I think it’d be nice to have my person, you know?”

“Your person?” El asked, furrowing her brow.

“Someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. They accept every part of you, good and bad.” You sighed. “They're the person you want to be around the most.”

She looked at you seriously. “We are your person.”

It nearly brought tears to your eyes. One of the many reasons you loved El was her heart.

“C’mere,” you whispered, holding open your arms.

She scootched toward you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“You too.” You motioned Max over.

That’s how Billy found you three, hugging each other on the couch like you were trying to absorb into one being.

“Am I interrupting some girl thing?” he asked, opening the cabinet.

You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “No, you’re fine.” You looked over the back of the couch. “Anything I can help with?”

He gave you a flirty smile. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

It didn’t take long for him to announce it was ready, and you all grabbed your plates and huddled around the coffee table again. A little thrill went through you when Billy sat beside you, taking your dish from you and setting it down so you could lower yourself.

It was quiet for a few minutes as you all took your first bites. It was only pasta and marinara sauce, but it hit the spot. Maybe it was because Billy made it.

“I’m impressed,” you said, waving your fork around your plate.

“I’m a man of many talents,” Billy mused, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Does this mean you’ll marry Billy?”

You nearly choked on the bite you took. You wished she could read minds so you could scream, “Not the freaking time!”

Billy’s face flushed as he glanced between you two.

“Am I missing something?” He tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating. You wanted to marry him? Well, no. It sounded like you didn’t want to marry him. Why didn’t you want to marry him?

“No,” you said quickly. Billy tried to convince himself his chest didn’t constrict at that word. 

“(Y/N) would marry Dally,” El said. “And Dally’s an asshole.”

You put your face in your hands. There was no stopping her.

“And I’ve called you an asshole so many times.” Max provided as an explanation.

Billy could only look at you, and as you curled further in on yourself, he smirked—even though he’d been called an asshole twice—maybe there was something to El’s question.

“Didn’t think you were into that type,” he said, leaning back against the couch.

“I’m not. Not really.” You couldn’t look at him, opting to push the noodles around your plate.

“No? Then what is your type, sweetheart?”

He was teasing you. You could push back with teasing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked.” And the way he said it, it took on a seriousness you weren’t prepared for—like he really wanted to know because he cared about the answer. Like it meant something to him.

“I—”

The phone saved you. And Max jumped up.

“It’s probably Lucas,” she said. They’d been having a good week.

You took the opportunity to excuse yourself. “I’m gonna change.”

You grabbed your things and closed the bathroom door.

—

Billy watched as you fled. It was cute how flustered he could make you. And that’s when an idea struck him.

With you and Max busy, he turned to El.

“You think she likes me?” he asked, leaning toward her.

“Do you mean like like?” She stared at him with those big innocent eyes.

He nodded.

“I think so.”

“You think so? She hasn’t said anything to you or Max? Girls talk about that stuff at girls' night, right?” He bit his cheek. Was he reading the signs wrong? Were his feelings clouding his judgment?

Since his recovery, you’ve always been there. You made sure he took care of himself and kept an eye on Max. When he told you about the rundown little place he found, you got Hopper on board to pull a few strings and help remodel. Hell, you got everyone to help.

He still remembered the day you painted the walls, and you and Robin put handprints on each other's chests. He and Steve had said, “What about us,” and you and Robin fitted them with their own set. He still had that shirt.

Even the shit that went down with Steve. You were somehow able to mend things between them. It took a lot of work, and arguments popped up, but with you there, he did it. He didn’t have many friends at Hawkins High—they were a means to an end. However, now? He had ones that would have his back in an apocalyptic world. And it was because of you.

You were his rock, even if you didn’t know it. And he wanted to be that person for you.

“She doesn’t tell us,” El said. “But she looks at you the way Nancy looks at Jonathan.”

He knew the look she was talking about, and he hoped she was right.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“You…You like her, right?” she asked tentatively.

He smiled fondly. “More than Eggos.”

El giggled.

He shook his head slightly, smile remaining, mumbling, “Just want her ‘round all the time.”

She beamed, but before she could say another word, you and Max returned.

—

Everyone seemed to forget about the conversation before the phone rang. When you came out of the bathroom, El asked if you could start watching movies, and Max quickly put The Karate Kid in.

What surprised you the most was Billy making popcorn and bringing everyone a soda. You thought he’d retreat to his room like he usually did, but he sat next to you on the couch as the girls spread out on the floor with their own bowl of popcorn.

Halfway through the movie, the sun had set, and the air grew cooler. You rubbed your arm absentmindedly, focused on the screen. You vaguely noticed Billy disappearing somewhere, and when he returned, he held a sweatshirt.

Your heart sped up a little at his offer.

You played it off and raised an eyebrow when he handed it to you.

“You’re cold, right,” he asked, putting it in your lap when you didn’t take it right away.

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I’m just shocked you own a sweatshirt.”

He rolled his eyes but held back a smile. “Very funny.” Then when he was settled. “Indiana’s fucking cold.”

You slipped it over your head, the material warming and engulfing you in his scent. Bunching the sleeves into your fists, you leaned against the cushion and tucked your legs under you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

The movie soon ended, and Max inserted the second film.

Neither you nor Billy spoke after that. It was…nice...being there with him.

Between him and his sweatshirt, you were surrounded by warmth. The noise from the TV lulled into the background, and before you knew it, you were asleep.

Billy noticed almost immediately. He’d been arguing with himself about whether to put an arm around you after he gave you his hoodie.

After the shit he went through, Billy didn’t go after women. He was so in his head about what he’d done—what the monster made him do—he thought everyone was better off if he stayed away. And his body wasn’t the same afterward. Part of him wondered if you’d recoil if he touched you.

And then your head was on his shoulder. Your soft breathing in his ear. And he froze for a second. But then he sunk into you.

If this was the only time you’d be this close to him, he would take it.

He carefully moved his arm to pull you closer, and you shifted in your sleep to snuggle into him. He let his cheek rest against your head for one…two…three…four…five seconds, then lifted back up. He didn’t want Max or El to catch him and ask questions.

It wasn’t long until the movie ended, and the girls were passed out on the floor. And Billy debated staying right where he was, but he knew he shouldn’t.

He did indulge and place a feather-light kiss on the crown of your head before laying you down and pulling a blanket over you. He did the same for El and Max. And once the VHS was safely back in its case, he walked to his room with a final look at you thrown over his shoulder.

—

When the rising sun hit your eyelids, all you wanted was to turn over and go back to sleep. The sizzle of a frying pan and the smell of pancakes made you sit up.

Billy was by the stove, waiting to flip them and keeping a watchful eye on the bacon.

“Smells good,” you whispered, mindful of the two sleeping girls. Billy’s sweatshirt protected you from the morning chill.

He glanced at you and quirked his lips up. “It’s almost ready.”

You gave him a small smile in return, and it took you a moment to realize he had never done this before. Dinner was one thing, but breakfast was entirely different.

“What brought this on?” you asked, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

He shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to impress you again.” He finally turned around to face you and crossed his arms, spatula in hand.

You let out a breathy laugh, looking down before eyeing the cooking pancakes.

“Don’t let them fold in on themselves when you flip them, and you’re golden,” you teased. 

He raised a brow at you, turned around, and seamlessly flipped both over before setting the spatula down and facing you once more.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Consider me impressed.”

“Good.” He pulled a mug out of the cabinet for himself. “You sleep okay?”

You shrugged. “Good enough. Didn’t even realize I fell asleep.”

He would have gladly lent you his bed. He didn’t even need to be in it with you. He would’ve taken the small couch he had crammed in his room.

“Good thing you don’t snore. I think Max would’ve suffocated you,” he said.

You bumped your shoulder with his. “She likes me too much.”

You stared at each other for a moment. Something about Billy in the morning, with the soft light from the sun reflecting in his eyes and shading his hair, was almost breathtaking. He was relaxed, and you hoped it slowly became his new normal.

His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you swore you stopped breathing until you glanced away and saw the pancakes.

“Better watch before they burn,” you said, swallowing to rid yourself of your dry throat.

He had forgotten about them as he took you in. From your pajamas to your still-sleepy gaze and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest—you seemed so…at home here.

He tried to shake that thought as he plated breakfast and set it down at the kitchen table.

You could lean against the counter every morning, sipping coffee as he made you both breakfast. He’d peck your lips each time he passed you for something, and as he waited for things to finish cooking, he would wrap his arms around your shoulders and bury his nose in your hair. Your arms would tighten around his waist, and you’d both stand there, completely content as the warm rays filtered in.

Since last night, since El’s question, a spark had ignited within him. The flicker of…hope, something he hadn’t felt since…since…he didn’t even know when. You didn’t say you wanted him explicitly, but if El saw a connection between him and Dally, then maybe you did too. He couldn’t deny that he’d been a dick in the past. He was still trying to correct those mistakes. But where Dallas Winston had Johnny, Billy had…well…the closest he could think of was you.

And potentially having a life with you? That didn’t sound too bad. Not at all.

You sat across from one another. You could feel Billy’s eyes on you. When you glanced up from your breakfast, he gave you a smirk as if to say, “Impressed?”

You were about to speak, but he beat you to it.

“So, we didn’t finish our discussion last night.”

“Discussion?” You tilted your head.

He nodded and tried to keep his smug smirk at bay. “You into the bad boy type, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened before you covered your face with your hand. “Didn’t the time for this pass?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “C’mon, tell me, what’s it about him that gets you goin’?”

You shook your head and attempted to suppress your smile. Even though this was embarrassing, you still found Billy cute.

“I’m not doing this with you and that dirty mind of yours. It’s too early. Besides, the girls are still sleeping,” you said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh please, Max used to hear me with girls.” He stated it like a fact, without pride or accomplishment in his voice.

“I know. She’s complained to me multiple times,” you said matter-of-factly.

He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing pink. It surprised you.

He shrugged as if to shake off his actions. “Guess Winston and I are different then.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.” You hoped your smile told him that it really wasn’t a bad thing—that you genuinely liked the person he was growing into—that you cared for him.

“Hope so,” he said softly, taking a bite.

You could’ve stayed there and stared at him for the rest of the day. His eyes were so blue, his hair still a bit messy, and he just looked…he just looked content.

You wanted to reach across the table, grab his hand, hold it between yours and trace each finger. Maybe he’d stop you by pulling your hand to his lips. Maybe, you’d follow with your own.

And as soon as that thought reared its head, Max and El strolled into the kitchen.

“You made pancakes?” Max’s face scrunched up.

“We have guests,” Billy said with a shrug. Like he was concerned with being a good host.

At least for you, he was.

“When has that forced you to do anything?” she asked, stacking her plate.

You locked eyes with Billy from across the table and smiled shyly.

—

“So, you coming here next week?” he asked, putting your bag in the backseat for you.

You shook your head. “It’s at mine next week. Parents are away for a few days. I was thinking of making it an all-weekend thing.”

He slowly nodded, disappointed he wouldn’t see you—only to drop Max off and pick her up.

“Just let me know when I can get the shitbird out of my hair.” It’s all he thought to say to hide his discontentment.

You pursed your lips. It was now or never. “Actually, I was thinking—if you weren’t too busy, maybe you could come over, too? I know it’s technically ‘girls' night,’ but…last night was really nice.”

He tried to keep his face neutral, make it seem like he wasn’t experiencing heart palpitations, but his smile couldn’t stay hidden. It made you immediately relax.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The way he looked at you sent shivers up your spine and heat through your veins. It was like he couldn’t believe you were real. You’d never seen him have this warmth in his gaze. Like he’d happily follow you anywhere and listen to every word you said.

You returned his smile with a gentle one of your own. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly.

He really was beautiful in the sunlight. His skin full of its own sun. You were so close to each other earlier that you felt it radiating off him. It took everything in you not to rest your head on his shoulder and nuzzle in.

He took a step forward, resting a hand on the roof of your car. “You gonna make me sleep on the floor at yours?”

You lightly bit your lip. And fuck, you were in for the best kind of trouble. “Depends on how much you impress me.”

“And what do I have to do to make that happen?” There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.

You tried to repress your smile as you leaned to whisper in his ear. His hands instinctively went to rest on your hips. He shivered when your breath hit his skin.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” You pulled back with a little smirk, and he let out a soft chuckle.

His gaze flitted from your eyes to your lips and back again. His hand came up to caress your cheek, grazing his thumb there.

“Not even a little hint?” he asked teasingly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You pushed your head further into his hand.

He hummed. “Guess you’re right. Have to earn it.”

You grinned. “I have complete faith in you.”

And even though you were both joking with each other, that meant more to him than he would ever admit. You believed in him. You had gotten to know him and helped him through the hardest parts of his life without even knowing it. He wanted to prove to you that trust wasn’t misplaced. That he deserved your patience, your kindness, your love.

Without another thought, he pulled you into his embrace. He held onto you like he was afraid to lose you—like you’d suddenly change your mind and not see him.

You could feel it in the way he held you. You struck something, something crucial, something he needed to hear. So, you hugged him back, smoothing your hand up and down his spine.

When you pulled away, you slipped your hand into his. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “Get home safe.”

“Thanks, Billy,” you said. “I’ll see you next week.”

Before you could step around him, he encircled your wrist gently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“See you next week, sweetheart,” he said, a smirk slipping back onto his face.

You shook your head slightly as you climbed into your car, waving to him as you pulled out.

He stood there, watching you drive further away from him. And he knew you two were about to be much much closer.

Flowers in December

Pairing: Gang Member!Minho x Boss’ Daughter!Reader

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Word count: 3.2k

Your father had taken Minho under his wing at a tender age of 7, you were around the same age at that time. You remember when he walked through the gates of your father’s house, you can clearly recall his petite figure and vulnerable self. His tiny eyebrows were furrowed, a little pout on his lips and his small hands clinging on to the fabric of the guy who had draped his jacket around his shoulders.

Even for a little child, his features were defined. He was as pretty as a winter flower. You associated him with winter because it was snowing that day. That’s what Minho used to be, a pretty winter flower. Much unlike how he is now, hardened by his surroundings, sculpted by rugged training and scarred by combats unknown to you. While you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, enjoying all the riches that your father acquired illegally, Minho was busy growing up in the harshest conditions to serve as a prime asset to your father’s gang.

Keep reading

tell me i'm wrong

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: you've been dancing around your feelings for matt murdock for over a year. what happens when he confronts you about it?

warnings: cursing, drinking, some fluff, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: no one asked for this. this is purely me being a selfish slut for matt murdock. friendly reminder that if sexual content or smut makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip this! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

I slipped the key into the lock and turned it quietly, quickly letting myself in and gently closing the door behind me. After twisting the lock back into place, I made my way down the entryway and turned the corner to head straight for the fridge. The light from inside was the only illumination coating the otherwise dark apartment apart from the quick flashes of light from the giant billboard outside the window of the living room. I let out a huff as I scanned my alcohol choices, standing up on my tiptoes to see if there were any better options on top of the fridge. No such luck. I was about to reach for one of the shitty beers inside when a voice cut through the silence.

“What are you doing?”

I screamed as I spun around, slamming the refrigerator door shut with my back as I braced myself against it. I squinted my eyes to see the shadowy silhouette of a figure sitting on the couch. I ran a shaky hand over my face, attempting to get my breathing back under control.

“Jesus Christ, Matt. What the hell are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“I realize that, smartass. I thought you’d be out..doing your..thing.”

“It’s still early.”

“I didn’t realize criminals followed the designated hours allotted for illegal activity.”

I could hear him snicker, and I just knew he had that stupid smirk on his face. I had known Matt Murdock for a little over a year after I started working as an assistant at his firm along with Karen. After a few high profile cases, they were getting more clients than they could keep track of and needed the extra help. Thus started my complicated relationship with Matt Murdock. Well, it wasn’t really complicated. I complicated it. I immediately developed a crush on him, and he was a flirty little shit that only made it worse. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if he knew what he was doing, or if he was doing it on purpose.

I had accidentally found out about his nighttime activities two months ago when I walked in on him changing out of his costume. He hadn’t shown up to the office that day, and Foggy kept insisting he was probably fine, just sick, but I couldn’t let it go. New York was a dangerous city, and Matt was blind. Or, so I thought. I had used my key he had given me for emergencies and let myself in, calls of his name dying on my tongue when I saw him standing in the middle of the living room with his helmet in his hands. Suddenly, everything kinda clicked. He was always running off at odd times, bailing on drinks after work, constantly not answering calls or texts, and there were always bruises and cuts popping up he would make simple excuses for.

We had both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. There were a million thoughts swirling around in my head. I honestly didn’t know if I was surprised or pissed. Panic was evident on his face as he approached me slowly, like he was terrified I would bolt if he moved too fast, and had both of his hands held up in front of him.

“I..I know how this looks.”

“It looks like you’re going to be late for court. Get dressed and move your ass, Murdock. I’ll deal with you later.”

For once Matt Murdock had been rendered speechless, and I took pride in that. That charming fucker always had something to say, always had to have the last word. Even though I had promised him we would talk later, I avoided him like my life depended on it. I didn’t show up to his place later that night. I ignored every single one of his calls and texts. I called in sick for two days. I wanted him to know how it felt, to worry, and to be on the other side of a broken promise. To have absolutely no idea what was going on. A piece of me felt betrayed. I know I didn’t have a right to feel that way. Matt was my boss, and sort of my friend, but he owed me nothing. Especially not a secret like that. But still, it stung. I felt like I had been lied to the entire time I had known him. 

He had showed up at my apartment that second night I didn’t come to work, letting himself in through the window. I had a feeling he would. He wasn’t known for his patience. Although I must admit I was a little disappointed he didn’t show up in costume. I was on my third glass of wine and feeling brave, swirling the burgundy contents in my glass as I stared over at him.

“Tell me, how does a blind guy climb up a fire escape? Or are you even really blind?”

“I told you about my accident.”

“You did. But how am I supposed to determine what comes out of your mouth is true and what’s bullshit?”

“I..it’s complicated.”

“Then spell it out for me.”

Matt had finally given me the truth. He came clean about everything, about his heightened senses, about how he was trained as a kid, when he decided to become what he was. I still didn’t fully understand how he was able to do what he did, but I tried not to push it too far. In an odd way, it made things better between us. He didn’t lie anymore about what he was really up to, he promised to keep us updated on where he was going in case something went wrong, and he always promised to be careful. His suit and helmet may have been damn near indestructible, but he was still human underneath. While I knew he could handle himself, I had seen the video evidence, I still worried about him. And every night for the past two months, I found myself unable to fall asleep until I got the one message I had made him promise to send me every night. 

I’m home.

“Are you just here for my beer?”

“I was hoping for something a little stronger, but I guess I’ll have to settle.”

“Wow, stealing from a blind guy. Have you no morals?”

“Hey, I was gonna leave a twenty on the counter.”

“How generous of you.”

“Do me a favor next time you do a beer run, get something good. Not this German shit. I’m talking Mexican Lager, maybe a little beer salt, some limes. Be considerate of those who raid your stash while you’re out making the world a better place.”

I twisted the top off the bottle and threw it into the trash, making my way over to sit down on the couch opposite the one Matt was sitting on. I could see him better from this spot. The light from the billboard made the red of his glasses almost glow. I rarely ever saw Matt not in his lawyer gear, or his other suit. It was refreshing to see him in a black tshirt, that looked like it had been dried one too many times, and a pair of dark gray sweatpants. He looked..cozy.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I feel like even if I say no, you’re going to anyway.”

Matt pursed his lips into a pout of contempt. I had been getting fed up with his teasing, so I decided to start dishing it right back. It was kinda fun to get him all riled up for a change.

“Go ahead.”

“You’ve been..oddly calm about all of this. I mean..even from the moment you found me in the suit. I was expecting you to-”

“Freak out?”

“Well, yeah. Or at the very least, lecture me. I got an earful from Foggy when he found out.”

Matt had sat up a little straighter, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands in front of him. There was a time when I thought I could shamelessly stare at him without fear of being caught damn near drooling. In the beginning, I did. I didn’t panic when he turned his head towards me, because I didn’t think he could see me. I didn’t think I was getting caught. Of course after Matt had told me the truth about his abilities, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole realizing that he had been aware the entire fucking time.

Letting out a sigh, I ran my fingers through my hair and took another sip from the beer.

“You’re a grown man, Matt. Nothing I say or do is going to change your mind. You’re going to do what you want regardless of what any of us say.”

“Yeah but..you’re the only one that’s a little..warmer to the idea. You’ve had no apprehensions about it, not once. You don’t think it’s wrong?”

“I’m not exactly the person you should be asking that.”

“Why not?”

“Because my moral compass isn’t exactly as straight as everyone else's.”

“I want to know what you really think. You’ve been holding back.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“Aren’t you Catholic? Shouldn’t you only worry about what God thinks?”

“He’s..a little hard to get a hold of sometimes.”

“She.”

Matt perked his head up, a slight chuckle leaving his mouth as he looked over at me incredulously.

“I thought you weren’t religious?”

“I’m not. But if there is a God, she’s a woman.”

“Fair enough.”

There was no easy way to get out of a conversation with Matt Murdock. Once he had his teeth sunk into something, there was no letting go. My choices were to give in and give him what he wanted, or deal with his relentless pestering until he got it. I let out another deep sigh as I leaned back into his stupid expensive comfy couch.

“I know there’s an idealistic part of you that thinks the system works. But I also know there’s a more realistic side of you that can acknowledge that often, it fails. If you didn’t feel that way, you wouldn’t be running around rooftops in your little red number every night. I don’t believe in absolutes. I don’t think there’s just good and evil, or black and white; there’s a lot of gray area. I guess..that’s where you come in.”

“So, you don’t think it’s wrong?”

“The short answer? No.”

“But you feel for them.”

“You forget I come from a family of criminals.”

“But you didn’t end up like them.”

“Because I chose not to. That doesn’t mean I’m not sympathetic. I got lucky. I made my own choice. Some of those people out there..feel like they don’t have one. So yeah, maybe you get them put away and they’re out in a week or a month, but that’s a week or a month they have time to make a choice of their own. And if they make the wrong one, then you’ll be there. Look, I don’t like that you’re out there every night putting your life, and your career, at risk. But I also get why you do it. There are those assholes who think they’re above the law because they pay the ones that enforce it to work in their favor. So if they lie under oath, it’s only fair they get to meet the Devil.”

“You worry about me?”

There was that signature, shit-eating grin on his face. God he was insufferable sometimes. I wanted to climb across this coffee table and smack it off, but he would probably have me pinned down before I had a chance. On second thought..might not be such a bad idea. I groaned in exasperation, finishing off the bottle in my hand.

“Yes, Matthew. I worry about you, alright? Sue me.”

“I know a good lawyer.”

“Oh fuck off. Look, can we save our Hallmark moment? Or do you feel the need to milk it for all it’s worth?”

Every single one of his stupid perfect white teeth were on display as he grinned widely at me, his broad shoulders moving slightly with every snicker that came from his chest. Matthew Murdock had to be the most infuriating man I had ever met. It was like he lived to tease and test my patience.

A comfortable silence washed over us after a while. My thumb lightly brushed over the label on the bottle as I stared out the window, thinking about what might be waiting out there for Matt tonight. No matter how much I didn’t want to, my mind always drifted to him. I was constantly thinking about him. My thoughts often wandered to the night he had told me the truth, about everything. 

That night, realization dawned on me like the first sun after a long winter. He knew. He knew all along that I had been watching him, staring shamelessly. He always heard the way my heartbeat quickened whenever he entered the room, or was suddenly close to me. He could feel the rise in temperature in my cheeks from his lighthearted flirting. He knew..but never said anything. Never acted on it. After his confession, I crossed off the possibility that he had no idea what he was doing to me. Maybe it was really all a game to him.

“What is it?”

“Huh?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t know why you still bother trying to lie when you know I can tell when you are. Besides, I can practically hear the words buzzing in your head.”

“Okay, your hearing isn’t that good. And I’m gonna keep practicing my lying skills until one day even I can trick the human lie detector, Matthew Murdock.”

“Lie detectors actually don’t work very well. They’re kind of bullshit.”

Normally I wouldn’t concede in our banter so easily, but it was getting late and I was exhausted. I was also completely on edge knowing at any second, Matt was going to subject himself to the violent dangers of Hell’s Kitchen leaving me a mess of anxiety waiting on that one message that would finally put me at ease.

“Come on, talk to me. I still got some time to kill. Tell me what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

I racked my brain for anything I could use along the lines of what was running through my head without completely giving myself away. I curled up into the side of his couch, resting my hand on my palm as I looked over at him.

“What..what do you see, exactly? I know you kind of explained it to me..but I’m just curious. I mean is it like..sonar? Shadows or shapes? White noise?”

“It’s more like..a world on fire.”

“Well that sounds..pleasant.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you ask?”

Shit. I tapped my nail lightly against the side of the bottle, shrugging my shoulders a bit now that I knew he could tell when I did that.

“I’m just..trying to understand. Foggy..um..he always says that you always know when girls are pretty so..I guess I was just wondering what you saw. When you look at people, I mean. You can..see them.”

“Short answer, yes. In my own way, I can tell what people look like.”

Maybe that was it. Maybe he could see me, and wasn’t impressed. Maybe he didn’t think I was as pretty as all his other girlfriends and that’s why he never said anything. Leave it to me to not even be a blind guy’s “type”. It certainly wasn’t because we worked together. That didn’t stop him and Karen, which was a painfully awkward conversation to have with her once she found out about my infatuation with him.

“I know that you’re pretty.”

My head snapped in Matt’s direction and I expected to see his usual stupid smirk coating his lips, but he was just smiling. A real, genuine smile. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Was this a trick?

“What?”

“I said I think you’re pretty.”

“Oh..Foggy tell you that? You know you can’t trust his judgment after tequila.”

The smile on his mouth only stretched further as he shook his head slowly, bracing his palms on his knees.

“No, I can tell for myself.”

I didn’t know what to say. Matt had never called me pretty before. He flirted with me like it was his own personal mission from God, but I never thought he actually found me attractive. I didn’t know he could. I promptly became self conscious of the fact that I was wearing a flimsy tank top with a cropped zip up hoodie and a pair of leggings that had small holes forming on the inner thighs where they had been worn down. I didn’t think he was going to be here, so I didn’t bother with changing. I had never had a reason to be self conscious about my appearance with Matt before. But now I knew that he could see me, and thought that I was pretty.

“Does that bother you?”

“What?”

Matt rose from his spot on the couch, taking careful steps around the coffee table until he could take his place right beside me. If he moved even a centimeter closer, his knee would brush against mine.

“Does it bother you that I think you’re pretty?”

“Oh..um..n-no. But..you knew that already..right?”

“I wanted to hear you say it.”

Matt was closer in proximity than he ever had been before, and the scent of his cologne was intoxicating. I had to stop myself from leaning in to nuzzle his neck. His large hands were braced against his thighs, as if he was waiting for something. I loved Matt’s hands. I knew what they were capable of, but I wanted to know what they could do to me.

“How does it make you feel?”

“What?”

“That I think you’re pretty. How does it make you feel?”

“Matt-”

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. Be a good girl and tell me how it makes you feel.”

Good girl. Those two words went straight to my core and caused me to press my thighs together tightly, which did not go unnoticed by Matt. He noticed fucking everything. His eyebrows rose slightly above his crimson colored glasses, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, did you like that?”

I didn’t know if my frustration was purely sexual or just due to Matt being a cocky son of a bitch but I couldn’t stand to be around him for another second. I hadn’t eaten since lunch so I was pathetically buzzed off of one beer, further intoxicated by the scent of his cologne that had weaved its way through my lungs, and internally begging to hear more filthy words fall from his graceful lips in that dangerously low voice. As much as my body was screaming for his touch, my brain reminded me just how much he pissed me off. I slammed my empty bottle on the table as I stood.

“I am so fucking over your little games, Murdock.”

Matt’s hand darted out in a flash to grip onto my wrist, not hard enough to leave a mark, but just enough to let me know I wasn’t leaving. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I looked down at him and swallowed thickly. There was a somewhat pained look on his face and his jaw clenched slightly.

“Don’t. It’s not a game.”

Without warning, he pulled me down onto his lap with an ease that caused a sharp gasp to fall from my lips at just how strong he was. His arm snaked around my back, trapping me against his firm chest so that our faces were merely an inch apart. I flattened my palms against his chest, not like I could push him away even if I really tried. I could feel his warm breath fanning over my lips.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me that I read this all completely wrong, and you can walk out that door, and we can pretend that this never happened. I won’t bring it up again, I swear. But if you do want this..God, I need to know.”

My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears it was deafening. I wondered what it must sound like to him. To me, it must have resembled a hummingbird fluttering around in a cage. But for Matt, it had to be far more intense, like a marching band plowing right through my ribcage. I reached up with trembling hands, grabbing onto the sides of Matt’s glasses and gently pulled them off of his face. 

I always thought Matt’s eyes were beautiful. There were swirls of deep caramel intermingled with honey golden embers and splashed with tiny flecks of jade. He brought his other hand down to rest on my waist, his thumb pressing light circles against my hip bone through the fabric of my leggings. God did I want to kiss him. I wanted to throw caution to the wind, bite the bullet and finally get what I had been craving since that first day.

But fear crept into the back of my mind and turned my blood cold. What did this mean? What would it change? Would I be just another shiny new toy that Matt would discard in a month once he got bored? I didn’t think I had the grace to carry on with business as usual like Karen had. This would change everything for me. There would be an entirely different rendition of “normal” if we crossed this line, and I had no idea what it meant to Matt.

“Let it go for tonight.”

“Let what go?”

“Everything you’re worrying about right now. I promise whatever happens, you and I will work it out together tomorrow morning. Line by line.”

“Matt..”

“Tell me you want this, Y/N.”

“You can hear my heart.”

“I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it. Please.”

My mind was swimming with curiosities and consequences. I could give in. I could relinquish complete control and finally get to have Matt Murdock like I had been dreaming about since we first met. And even if the flame burns out too quickly for my liking, at least I’ll always be able to remember this night. And if I don’t, I could spend the rest of my life wondering what I had missed out on. Agonizing if I had made a mistake. Which was worse? To have a little taste, or nothing at all?

“I..I want this. I want you, Matt.”

In an instant his lips were crashing onto mine, grabbing onto the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. Our teeth and tongues thrashed together with insatiable hunger. Matt’s kisses were rough and needy and it lit a blaze within me. I had never wanted someone so badly. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged my head to the side, granting himself full access to my neck. He left a burning trail of kisses down my neck and I whined when I felt his teeth sink into the juncture above my collarbone. 

“Your scent drives me fucking crazy. Ever since you first stepped into the office..it was everywhere. It still fucking is. Doesn’t matter how many times I wash my clothes, how long it’s been since you’ve been in the office, or my apartment, your fucking scent is everywhere..and it goes straight to my cock. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to excuse myself to go fuck my hand in the bathroom like a horny fucking teenager because of you?”

“M-Matt..”

His fingers swiftly tugged at the zipper of my hoodie, shoving it down my shoulders and throwing it across the floor. He gripped the top of my tank top and ripped it completely in half like a piece of paper, carelessly discarding the scraps. A gasp of surprise left me but was completely cut off by a loud moan when Matt pulled me roughly down onto his lap.

“Can you feel that? Can you feel what you fucking do to me?”

I could feel the entire outline of Matt’s hardened bulge as he grabbed my hips, pulling me down even harder against him. I let my head fall back and moaned wantonly at the feeling of his hard on rubbing against me right where I wanted him. I was surprised he had actually unclasped my bra instead of ripping it off with all of my other clothing. My nipples instantly peaked from the rush of cool air and goosebumps littered my naked skin. My mouth hung open at the contrast of Matt’s warm large hands fondling my breasts, squeezing them roughly. His mouth latched onto one of my nipples, alternating between sucking and biting down on the sensitive flesh. He splayed one of his large hands flat against my back, keeping me in place so I couldn’t escape the delicious torture. 

“I can fucking smell your arousal. I can smell how fucking soaked you are right now. Fuck..I can’t wait to tear you apart.”

I whined as I gripped at the collar of his shirt, giving it a light tug hoping he would get the hint. As he pulled his shirt off his head, I took the opportunity to rush forward and drag my tongue along the sharp outline of his jaw, nipping at the skin under his ear. He grunted as he suddenly shot up with me in his arms, turning slightly to drop me onto my back on the couch as he ripped my leggings down my thighs. I gulped as I watched him shove his sweats down, climbing onto the couch on his knees in front of me. He flashed me a devilish grin before sounds of seams ripping and tearing filled the ear. My mouth hung open in shock as I stared at the remnant shreds of my panties in his hand.

“Matt-”

Before I could register what was happening, he placed one of his large hands over my mouth and shoved two of his fingers into my soaking pussy. I whined against his hand, staring up at him above me with wide eyes.

“Shh, you’re gonna be a good girl for me, aren’t you? Gonna let me take what I want? Gonna let me use you like my own little whore, yeah?”

A fresh wave of arousal flooded between my thighs. The sweet, charming Matt Murdock was long gone. The devil had come out to play. 

Matt wasted no time settling between my thighs, diving face first into my pussy like a man starved. I cried out in pleasure as he bit down on my clit, soothing it with his tongue before sucking on the sensitive nub without remorse. His beard burned as it rubbed against my thighs, but it felt so fucking good at the same time. One of his hands clamped down on my thigh to keep it spread and he locked my hips down in place with his arm so I couldn’t move at all. All I could do was lie there and take it as he took what he wanted. As he worked me over with his tongue, his fingers explored deep inside of me, curling up upon exit every now and then and brushing against that special spot. I wasn’t going to last.

“Matt..M-Matt fuck..I..I’m g-”

I nearly cried when he roughly retracted his fingers and removed his mouth. I shot up instantly to reach out for him, face contorted in annoyance and ready to protest. His hand suddenly wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to get me to stay still. A warning. I grabbed onto his wrist with both of my hands. My entire body felt like it was on fire. His lips were red and swollen, and coated with my wetness that was dripping down his chin. The smirk on his lips grew more wicked by the second.

“I didn’t say you could come. You don’t get to come unless it’s on my cock, understand? You have to earn it. You have to prove to me that you’re a good girl, and beg for it. If I even think you’re going to come without permission, I will tie you up and leave you here all fucking night. Tell me you understand.”

“I..I u-understand.”

“Good.”

I sucked in a deep breath when Matt let go of my neck. His large hands gripped my hips savagely and he flipped me over without hesitation onto my stomach. He shoved his knee in between my thighs to spread them apart, pulling me up onto my knees so that my ass was straight up in the air. I whined loudly when I felt the sting of his palm slapping harshly against my ass. I didn’t have to turn around to know there would be a perfect outline of his hand. I could hear the rustling of clothing behind me as he shoved his briefs down his muscular thighs. 

“Give me your hands.”

I swallowed thickly as I turned my head slightly so that my face was flush against the cushion of the couch, reaching my hands behind my back. Matt took both of my wrists into one of his hands, holding them firmly against my back. I surged forward and cried out when he abruptly shoved the head of his cock into my needy pussy. He didn’t give me time to adjust and before I knew it I could feel his hips against my ass as he fully sheathed himself inside me. I heard a guttural groan rip through his chest behind me and it went straight to my core. 

“Fuck..you’re even fucking tighter than I thought you’d be. Gripping my cock so fucking good.”

Matt’s thrusts were rigorous and unrelenting as he pounded into me. My body surged forward with every powerful snap of his hips. I had never been fucked like this before. My head was spinning and it was becoming more and more difficult to stay up on my knees with the pace Matt was fucking me at. I felt him grab a large fistful of my hair, yanking me backwards so that my back was arched even more. I moaned sharply at the new angle that allowed him to drive deeper inside of me. He was so big and thick, and it burned delectably everytime he pushed in further. 

“M-Matt..please..please I-I can’t..”

“Gonna come already? Don’t be a greedy slut. I’m not done yet.”

“I c-can’t..c-can’t hold it..”

“You better fucking find a way to hold it.”

I didn’t want him to stop. I didn’t think I could handle it if he stopped. I needed him. I dug my nails so hard into my palms I thought they would bleed. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to combust. I clenched my pussy around his length which earned a luscious groan from deep within his chest.

“Fuck angel..you want it that bad, don’t you? Want me to fill this pretty little cunt up?”

“Yes, yes, yes..please..please-fuck..”

Matt let go of my hair and moved his hand between my thighs, beginning to rub his fingers over my clit at a brutal pace. I jerked back against him and nearly screamed at the contact, feeling that band within me dangerously close to snapping.

“Go ahead, angel. Come for me. Let go, and don’t you fucking hold back. I want it all.”

My thighs shook as my orgasm hit me like a tsunami, leaving my body a convulsing mess against him. I moaned his name over and over like a prayer, grinding my ass back against him as I tried to survive the aftershocks. Matt moaned loudly as he spilled inside of me with a vengeance, leaning forward over my back to clamp his teeth down on my shoulder. I whimpered softly as I felt his tongue brush over the spot to soothe the pain.

I cried out again when I felt his length slip out of me, only to be replaced by his fingers as he cupped my pussy, keeping his release inside of me. His hot breath fanned over my ear as he nipped at it, speaking lowly in a gravely tone. 

“Don’t think I’m fucking done with you yet.”

I whimpered at his words and nearly fell apart all over again. It wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. Matt maneuvered me back onto his lap, spreading my thighs on the opposite sides of his. As fast as he withdrew his fingers from me, he was pulling me down onto his half hard cock until he bottomed out inside of me. My mouth hung wide open and I wanted to scream at the sensation, but I couldn’t speak. I could feel him everywhere. I had never felt so full and so whole.

“You gotta earn this one, angel. Show me how good of a girl you can be.”

Matt wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, caging me against his chest once again. My thighs burned and felt like jelly, I wasn’t even sure if I could move. I didn’t know if it was my own desire or my need to please Matt, but somehow I found my strength. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders for support, beginning to rock my hips back and forth slowly. I whined from the sensitivity, leaning in to bury my face into the crook of his neck.

“That’s it..just like that. Look so pretty when you’re taking my cock, angel.”

The embers had been reignited and the fire began to grow within my belly once more. I took the opportunity to leave open-mouthed kisses along his neck, sucking softly at the nape of it. The breathy little moans that left his lips only spurred me on further. I bit down gently on his neck and heard him hiss, roughly digging his fingertips into the flesh of my hips. I couldn’t wait to see the marks he had left on me tomorrow. I wanted to make one of my own.

I sucked aggressively at the skin just above his collarbone, testing my luck as I bit down harder than I had before. I gasped when I felt his hand wrap around my throat again, bringing our faces closer together as the corner of his lips curled up in a snarl.

“Did I say you get to fucking tease?”

“N-no..I’m sorry..”

“Then what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“I..I just wanted..wanted t-to make you f-feel good too..”

“You wanna make me feel good? Ride my fucking cock.”

Matt smacked his hand against my ass sharply, earning another loud moan from me. His grip on my waist tightened as he leaned back against the cushions to stare at me. I bit down on my lip hard, starting to move my hips in slow figure eights. I was trying so hard to keep a steady pace, but I couldn’t focus. My body felt weak and my brain was erratic from how turned on I was. Matt’s patience wore thin as he held me steady and began to snap his hips up into mine repeatedly, causing me to bounce on his cock at an unforgiving pace. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my head back, digging my nails into his shoulder as I held on.

“Oh fuck..fuck fuck fuck..fuck Matt!”

The apartment was filled with sounds of his thighs slapping against my ass, his cock pistoning inside of my gushing pussy, and the violent growls that rang from his throat. I felt like he might actually tear me apart, and God what a way to fucking go. I grabbed onto the back of his neck tightly, pressing my forehead against his as I moaned even louder. I was gonna break.

“M-Matt..I..I..”

“Come. Come all over my fucking cock, angel. Let me have it.”

I crushed my chest against his, holding onto him as tightly as I could as my second orgasm tore through my body with retribution. I was a screaming, incoherent mess as wave after wave of pleasure racked through me. I could feel Matt’s hips stutter slightly as he came with a loud grunt, coating my walls with ropes of warmth once again. My heart pounded violently in my chest and I struggled to take in oxygen. I was shaking in Matt’s arms as he held me, nearly on the verge of tears. I had never felt so good.

Matt gently ran his fingers through my hair, brushing it out of my face as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head. He lightly trailed his fingertips up and down my spine slowly, brushing his nose along the curve of my jaw until his lips were on mine. His kisses continued along my neck as he whispered softly in my ear.

“Can you give me one more baby?”

I started to panic. I didn’t know if I could physically or mentally take one more. I whimpered as I hid my face in Matt’s neck, tightening my grip on his back.

“Matt..I don’t-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll help you. Just one more for me, baby. You can do it, I know you can.”

Matt slowly lifted us off the couch, his arms wrapped tightly around me and his length still settled inside of me as he carried me into his bedroom and laid me down gently on the bed. He kept himself inside of me the entire time. I panted softly as I looked up at him. He placed his hands on either side of my head, a soft smile on his lips as he leaned down to brush our noses together.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?”

He gently pulled my legs up to wrap around his waist, taking one of my hands and intertwining our fingers together as he held it by my head. The way he was looking at me made butterflies erupt in my stomach, and I felt my heart squeeze in my chest. The devil had his fun, now my sweet, charming Matt Murdock was back. He kissed me gingerly as he began to lazily move our hips together.

My entire body felt like a live wire and every time our hips connected it sent a jolt of electricity through me that made me wanna scream. It just felt so good. I couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down my cheeks or the sobs of pleasure that sounded from my lips. Matt pressed his forehead against mine as he lightly brushed the tears away with his thumb.

“I know baby..I know. I feel it too. I’ve wanted this for so long Y/N..wanted you for so long. God, you have no idea. You belong with me, Y/N.”

I didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t know if I could tell you my own fucking name if you had asked right then. The only thing I could focus on was Matt and how perfectly we fit. I squeezed his hand tightly, feeling myself being brought closer and closer to the edge with every stroke. Matt leaned in to capture my lips in a passionate kiss. I reveled in the feeling of his body weight on top of me. It felt right. I felt safe. 

“Matt..”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so well for me..so so well. I’m so proud of you, angel. Just a little longer baby, I’m almost there. Can you hold on for me just a little longer? Gonna make you feel so good baby, I promise.”

I could hardly hear Matt’s saccharine voice as my third orgasm of the night was steadily approaching. Matt gripped onto the sheets beside my head and sped his pace up just a bit. I didn’t have time to warn him, but he knew. He could feel it. He gently grabbed the back of my neck and pressed his forehead to mine, his voice shaking as he spoke.

“Let go baby, let it all go. I’m right here. I’m right here..I got you. I’m right here, angel.”

My vision became fuzzy, somewhat resembling the inside of a kaleidoscope, and I thought I was going to black out. It was like a bomb inside me had exploded, sending fragments flying that left me shaking uncontrollably. Euphoria rushed over me in unrelenting phases, and it felt like I was free falling throughout space. Matt Murdock had completely ruined me. It took several minutes before I came back down into coherency. 

As my vision came back into focus, I could see Matt still hovering above me. He was lightly brushing his thumb across my cheekbone in a loving gesture, a small smile languidly forming on his lips.

“There you are. I missed you.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, turning my head to lean further into Matt’s touch. I was still trying to regain my bearings as I breathed heavily. Matt leaned down to press gentle kisses to my forehead, cheeks, nose, and lips. He slid his length out me as carefully as he could, but even just the brush of his pubic hair against my overstimulated clit sent another jolt through me and tears pricked at the corner of my eyes again. I whimpered as I could feel a rush of warmth between my thighs where his three rounds of release had begun to spill.

“I’m sorry, angel. I know. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna get you some water.”

I couldn’t move. It felt like there were invisible cinder blocks all over my body holding me down. No one had ever made me come like that, let alone three times in a row. Matt emerged a moment later with his briefs slung low on his hips, a glass of water and a small towel in hand. He sat down beside me, weaving his arm around my back to hold me up against his chest as he brought the glass to my lips.

“Here, baby. Drink as much as you can.”

Once he was satisfied with my water intake, he began to cautiously clean me up with the warm towel. I gripped onto his arm when he touched me where I was sensitive, to which he kissed my temple as a silent apology. He hooked his arms under my knees and back, shifting me over onto the part of the bed that wasn’t drenched with our release. As he laid down beside me, he carefully swung my leg over his waist and held me tightly against his chest.

I could finally hear his heartbeat for once with my head on his chest. It was fast, but steady and strong. I lightly traced my fingertips along the scars that covered his skin. The action quickly sobered me up as I glanced out the window, wondering how late it was.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you..still going out?”

“No. I used all my fighting bad guy energy to fuck you senseless.”

I immediately blushed and hid my face into his neck, lightly slapping at his chest.

“Matthew!”

“What?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re beautiful.”

My breath caught in my throat at his words. That was what had started all of this. Those little words had jumpstarted the best night of my entire life. But I couldn’t stop myself from letting my mind wander about how long this night would actually last. His words from earlier echoed loudly in my mind. You belong with me, Y/N.

“Did you mean it?”

“When I said you’re beautiful?”

“No..when you said..I belong with you.”

Matt turned his head slightly so that he was facing me, cupping my cheek in his large hand while his thumb lightly ghosted over my bottom lip.

“I meant it.”

There were so many questions I had, I couldn’t keep track. How was this going to work? How could it work? What if it ended badly? What if something happened to Matt? I was completely exhausted both physically and mentally, and every question that popped into my head only made me feel more lightheaded. I knew Matt could hear my heartbeat going frantic again when he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“Hey, I told you. We’ll figure it out in the morning. Together. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Get some rest, angel. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I had no idea what tomorrow morning would bring, but at least I could take comfort in knowing that I was waking up in Matt’s arms. We would figure it out, together, line by line. And oh, it was definitely fucking better to have a little taste than nothing at all. 

Kinktober 2020 day 10- food play (L. )

I'm such a fucking simp for L iabskanwkwdnebsk he's just so cute??? I love him. So anyway enjoy, also this is so late I'm sorry . P. S this isn't during the Kira investigation

Implied female reader

Summary : it's no secret L likes sweets so he's rather excited when you let him bring it into the bedroom. No plot just horny hours.

It was obvious that L enjoyed sweets, he was almost constantly eating some kind of desert and even eating straight sugar cubes. In fact you don't think you've ever seen him eat something that wasn't a desert.

L had been conflicted lately, his thoughts and mind had been occupied by you as of late, witch was fairly normal as he often thought about you, especially when he was away. It wasn't that he was thinking of you that was the problem, but rather how he was thinking of you. His mind would begin to drift to less pure places the longer it wasn't filled with murder cases and criminals. It wasn't often L felt particularly horny, and even when he was he'd never been quite as eager. He reasoned that it was because he hadn't seen you in almost 2 weeks and desperately wanted to touch you again, but deep down he knew that wasn't the hole story.

Deep down he knew it was also because of his recent dirty fantasies. It seemed like whenever his mind began to wander to filthy places it always seemed to fallow the same basic desire, you layed on his bed completely naked and dripping just for him, chocolate sauce covering your body inviting him to run his tounge along your (s/t) skin. He wanted to cover you in sweets from chocolate sauce and wiped cream to cake frosting and butterscotch.

L smiled to himself at the thought of the sweet confectionerys dripping down your thighs and smeared across your breasts. He hoped you'd let him act out his little fantasy with you. He was eager, something that was quite rare for the Raven haired detective. The blue light from his various monitors illuminated his perverted grin in the dark room as he remembered that he came back tomorrow. You were no doubt just as excited as he was, even if it was for slightly different reasons.

You didn't question anything when you received a package full if various sweets, figureing that it was for your sugar addicted boyfriend. You were just about to put them away when you heard the door open and shut with a click. You walked out of the kitchen and smiled at the familiar slouching man in front of you. "L! Welcome back, I missed you" He made his way over to you and wrapped his lanky arms around you. "It's good to see you again y/n.did you get the box of things I sent here? " You nodded and chuckled slightly "yah it's in the kitchen, I was going to put them away but you got home" He let out a quiet hum before retrieving the box. He wasted no time grabbing you hand as he pulled you towards your shared room, this wasn't abnormal as L often dragged you to the seclusion of your shared room in order to cuddle and talk. This seemed different though, L seemed oddly eager to get to the bedroom and you wondered as to the reason why.

Walking in before locking the door and tossing the box onto the large bed. He turned back to you and brought your face closer to his, he pressed a soft but eager kiss to your lips as his arms now snaked around your waist to pull you closer. He niped at your lip slightly asking for entrance witch you gladly gave him, you parted your lips slightly and his tounge immediately darted in to sweral around yours and explore your mouth. He tasted like sugar, no doubt from something he ate earlier in the day, his hands gingerly ran along your waist and under your shirt. It always surprised you how handsy he could be when he was horny, fingers trailing gently over your skin before squeezing and groping at anything he could.

Breaking away from the kiss to breathe, you looked up at L's normally stock face to see an adorable smile painted apon it. "I want to try something new y/n...please?" You nodded already haveing a vague idea of what he was planning. Gently he pushed you back onto the bed and began striping off your shirt and sweatpants as you stripped off his long sleeve shirt and bagy pants. You couldn't tell at first because of how bagy his pants were but he was already hard. He unhooked your bra before tossing it haphazardly to a random spot in the room. He kissed you again, tounge invadeing your mouth as he ground his erection against your clothed sex.

You moaned into the kiss as one of his hands met your breasts, pinching and rolling your hardened bud between his fingers. This time it was L who broke the kiss, leaning back and removeing your panties he opened the box next to you on the bed and dumped out it's contents before tossing it away. The first thing he reached for was the chocolate syrup, popping open the cap and tilting it upside down he drizzled it along your breasts and stomach, a little bit on your thighs. You looked to gorgeous in front of him, dripping with chocolate sauce and arousal.

He leaned down to your chest and pressed a long lick with the flat of his tounge, just above your breast all the way up your neck and to your jaw.

Long firm licks all over your chest collecting the sweet liquid on his tounge before his mouth latched onto your breasts. His skilled tounge sweraling and laping at your harden nipple and chocolate covered skin as his hand came to kneed your other breast. You moaned and gently tugged at his Raven locks as he continued his assault on your chest. Soon he switched sides, licking your other breast clean before doing the same to his now chocolate covered hand.

He moved lower and lower down you body, not missing a single drop as he left wet kisses and kitten licks over your stomach and thights.

Finally he came down to your dripping sex, his warm breath makeing you shudder. Wide and flat his tounge pressed a firm lick over your dripping folds and clit, you moaned out and shuddered. He continued to eat you out like a man starved as his mouth kissed and sucked your clit, tounge running along your sensitive folds tasteing you. You moaned and gasped from the feeling of him pressing further against your puffy clit. Two willowy fingers slid into your pussy and wiggled around ripping a moan from your mouth. His tounge slipped in, writhing and rubing against your walls. Pleasure washed over you as you came, L didn't stop however, wet muscle still inside you and tasteing every part of your sensitive area.

To him you were the sweetest snack and he most certainly wasn't done. Tounge and fingers still inside you, his slender digits started to trace along your soft walls, S-W-E-E-T. Your back arched off the bed and your hands tangled in his black hair. Your legs shaked as you came again. This time l pulled back, rummaging through the various sweets he picked up a container of cake frosting, popping open the lid his slick fingers scooped up a generous amount of the creamy substance before his now frosting covered fingers dipped down and scooped up the slick coating your folds, a little frosting getting slightly smeared on them. He'd get that later. Bringing his fingers to his mouth he licked them clean of the frosting and your cum before dipping his head back down to get anything he missed.

His cock was throbbing and pleading to be stuffed in your over sensitive cunt. He removed his boxers ready to suff himself in you but you stopped him. He was confused for a split second before he realised what you wanted to do. You got off the bed and sat him down where you once were. You licked from the bace of his cock to the flushed red tip, already dripping with bitter precum. His eyes were almost wider than normal answer they stared at your form. You reached over and grabbed the can of wip cream, the pssssssggggggccchhhhhh (cut me some slack) sound from the can was the only sound in the room, you covered almost his entire dick in wipped cream before giveing him a wink.

You licked his cock clean, only a few bits of wipped cream here and there as you took him into your mouth. You bobed your head up and down takeing as much of him as you could, his hands tangled in you (h/c) locks as you gaged around him slightly. His head was thrown back as almost calm moans reverberated through his chest. For once his mind was blank, zooming through cloud 9 as your mouth worked wonders sucking him off. Your mouth left his cock with a wet pop as you grabbed the butterscotch. L watched with bated breath as you opened it, his cock twitched as the thick liquid drizzled down his shaft before you once again took him into your mouth.

He was close as you took him a little further, throat constricting and gagging against him. His hips jolted a little further into your mouth. You could feel him twich in your mouth, tounge sweraling around him and tasteing the sweets you previously put on him. He let out a quiet groan as he came in the back if your throat, you did your best to swallow all the thick and bitter liquid. It wasn't to bad as his cum mixed with the butterscotch slid down your throat. You pulled off of him and licked your lips.

He pulled you on top of him, his back hitting the soft sheets of the bed you shared. He gripped your thighs and ass with sticky hands as lifted you up and onto his cock. He slowly eased you onto his member, dark grey eyes staring as you stretched around him. You leaned and burried your face in his neck, moaning as he bottomed out inside you. He started thrusting upwards and your hips bounced to meet with his each time. The sound of slapping skin and airy moans filled the dark room.

The knot in your stomach started to tighten as your bounceing continued to meet his upward thrusts. His cock dragged against your walls letting you feel every vein as he hit your spongy g-spot. You were nice and tight around him, he could tell you were still sensitive from earlier. His hands gripped your ass and thighs as he kept up his pace. His cock twitched and he felt your pussy squeeze him tight. Spilling over the edge he painted your walls white, your legs shuddering and quakeing as yet another orgasm ripped through you.

Your breathing was heavy as L wrapped his arms around you to hold you in place.

"L... Let go, we gotta clean up, I feel sticky" You said, head still burried in his neck. He let out a long hum before responding. "Yes, I suppose that's right. Alright let's take a bath" You looked up at him and were greated by his warm adorable smile. "Yah, let's go"

The end for now

Ignore that this is wayyyyyyyy of schedule, the next few will probably be hcs because I need to get caught up.

Anyway this was absolute filth.

Hi hi! I’m sure you’re being flooded, but I’d love a little something about younger (20 or older though!) reader babysitting for dad! Steve. Smutty if you feel so inclined. Can be single or not, dealer’s choice!

I went wayyyy overboard with this, oops, but it was so sexy omfg

word count: 2k

warnings: huge age gap (45+ vs 20), unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral m receiving, sliiiightly mean dom steve, size kink, stomach bulge kink, daddy kink

You'd been crushing on Mr. Harrington for years, actually... even before the divorce.

It wasn't just that he was good-looking, although that was obviously part of it. It was the way he acted with you, it made you feel all girly and little and dumb; it was the way he played with his kids which made your uterus sob in envy; it was the way he wore reflective shades to the pool and you had to wonder if he was looking at you and seeing how much you'd grown.

For the longest, much to your dismay, nothing happened between you. You'd been trying to make conversation after he came back each night to finish your babysitting shift, but it never really worked. Nothing worked, actually, not even the skimpy outfits or the strategic bending over or the casual touches to his arm or knee.

Nothing worked until last night.

It started mostly normal, except that he was obviously in a worse mood than usual. You asked how his date went; he dodged the question. You pressed again, and he shook his head as he sat down on the couch, running his hands over his hair.

"It's starting to feel futile," he explained, speaking quietly knowing his kids were asleep down the hall.

"What is?"

"All of it," he breathed. "Dating, work, all of it."

You sat next to him, pulling your knees up on the sofa and tilting your head sympathetically. "Tell me about it," you offered.

Amazingly, he did. He told you about how each woman he went out with was worse than the last, and he didn't trust any of them with his kids. That made your heart skip; I'm his babysitter, he trusts me with his kids.

He told you about how rough the divorce had been, and then the custody arrangements. Apparently he was still dealing with that even though Mrs. Harrington had moved out probably almost two years ago now.

He told you about how hard his job was, how the hours killed him, how he could barely find time to spend with his family because he was putting out everyone else's fires at the office.

"That all sounds really stressful, Mr. Harrington," you cooed when he finished his rant. "You need to relax."

He chuckled a little. "Easier said than done."

"Maybe I can help you."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion, but his eyes went wide as he watched you get on your knees on the ground.

"Let me help you relax, Mr. Harrington," you pleaded, running your hands over his legs gently as they stayed slightly spread on the couch.

"Oh, uh— I— sweetie, we can't—"

You reached up to his belt, and even if his words were hesitant, he lifted his hips slightly to make it easier for you to unbuckle it.

"Are you— fuck— are you really—? Baby..."

It made your hips wiggle against the carpet hearing him talk like that. You got his fly open next, and started to rub his cock through his boxers underneath. His eyes followed your every move in disbelief.

He was just starting to get hard when you took him out, but he was already so big... your mouth was watering. You couldn't wait any longer: you looked up at him for just a second before you leaned forward and took his fat head into your mouth.

Groaning and tilting his head back, his hands found purchase in your hair instantly.

"Fuuuck," he breathed, "you're... you're so bad, sweetie, you know you shouldn't... oh my god."

You bobbed your head eagerly, feeling him swell and harden against your tongue until your mouth was stretched to its limit by his size. You hummed around him joyfully, revelling in the softly salty taste on your tongue. Stroking with your hand what your lips couldn't reach, you took a break after a few minutes to look up at him for approval.

"Where'd a sweet girl like you learn how to do that?" he asked with a long sigh. "Fuck, keep sucking... look up at me, baby."

You did as you were told, and he adjusted his hips slightly so it was easier for you to keep eye contact with him while you suckled at his throbbing head.

"Good," he praised, stroking your cheek as you worked. "Such pretty eyes... and that pretty mouth too, god. Take it deeper, sweetie, you can choke a little."

His hand helped push you down until his dick hit the end of your throat, and you gagged helplessly. He moaned loudest at that, eyes falling shut for a moment.

"Too big for your little mouth, huh?" he noticed. "Poor baby. Choke on me again."

You did as he said and noticed his hips rocking up to push his cock even deeper and gag you even harder. Tears welled in your eyes but he purred in satisfaction.

"Mm, good job," he praised, "you're so good for me, sweetie."

Needing a break for your throat, you pulled back and stroked him slowly as you made conversation. "How long has it been since somebody sucked your cock, Mr. Harrington?" you asked sweetly.

"Fuck, I don't even know— years? Before Allie was born, probably. She didn't... she never did it, really," he mumbled, and you tried not to bite your lip. Of course his bitch ex-wife never did this to him, he was probably so starved for affection for ages.

"That's such a shame," you pouted, "it tastes so good. I'd never be able to stop tasting you, Mr. Harrington."

"Then don't stop," he encouraged, pushing your head down again. You got back into the pattern, only taking breaks to lathe the shaft in long licks from base to tip; he seemed to like those a lot.

Sometimes you felt his cock throb and you hoped it meant he would come soon: you couldn't wait. You went on for a while longer, though, and started to get desperate for it. When his heavy breathing made you pretty sure he was close, you broke the pattern one more time to encourage him. "I want you to come in my mouth," you informed him. "M'gonna swallow it, sir, I promise."

"No, fuck no," he interrupted, surprising you. "No, I want that pussy. Fuck, I need your pussy, get up here."

You climbed onto the couch eagerly, straddling his lap as he started to pull your skirt up right away. He snapped your panties off like it was nothing, instantly groaning at the sight of your mound beneath; you felt so exposed in the best way, you worried you were going to drip right down onto his khakis with him looking at you like that.

"Fuck, sweetie, you're so gorgeous," he sighed, "such a gorgeous little pussy. C'mere..."

He held your thighs, petting them as he guided you down to his cock. He stopped looking at it once he was just barely pushing inside, instead starting to watch your face as you sank down onto his length with a moan. "Fuck!" you whimpered. "Fuck, too big, you're too—"

"Shh, shh," he soothed, "gotta be quiet, baby, the kids are asleep."

Your gut burned from how stupidly hot that was, and you bit your lip to try to keep it down. His cock reached the end of you and you jolted, trying to move back up, but he shook his head and kept guiding you down.

"No, sweetie, you need to take all of me," he scolded gently. "You're gonna take all of me, fuck, so good..."

Finally, somehow, he managed to get it all inside until your thighs were flush with his. You were shaking, it was so deep you were shaking; there was a slight bulge in your tummy where his cock filled you. "Mr. Harrington, it's too deep..."

He growled, actually growled, and held your hips tightly. "No, baby, it's just the right amount. You're taking me so good... all of my cock is in you, sweetie, you're doing so fucking good. Now just ride me."

Shaking and whimpering, you started to rock your hips on top of his; he sighed and watched you, looking wrecked in the best way.

"Yeah, fuck," he encouraged, "fuck, you know how long it's been since I had pussy like this? Tight, wet, young pussy like yours? You feel so fucking good..."

"You too," you moaned, "you feel so good, Mr. Harrington..."

He smirked a bit. "I think we're on a first name basis by now... but I want you to keep calling me that anyways. It's so fucking cute."

Pulling you a little closer, he whispered right by your ear.

"Maybe," he suggested, "you could even call me daddy."

"Oh, daddy," you pounced on the opportunity immediately, and he groaned in satisfaction. "Daddy, it feels really really good..."

"Yeah? Well then why don't you cream for me, huh? Let that cute little pussy come on my cock—"

You didn't even let him finish. You'd been worked up since he got here and it hit you all at once. He watched you proudly, thin laughter ringing in your ears.

"God, you're so sensitive," he groaned, "it's gonna take me a while, baby, I'm not as young as you... takes me all night sometimes."

You shuddered; "I don't have anywhere to be..."

"Yeah you do," he corrected, starting to guide your hips as your motions faltered from the exhaustion of coming. "Your parents are probably worried about you, sweetie. They don't know what a slut you are, do they?"

You shook your head. "N-no, daddy..."

"Fuck," he breathed, "you're so cute... show daddy your tits, sweetie— lift up your shirt for me and show me your tits."

He was more than capable of doing it himself, but he preferred to watch you roll up your tank top and let him see your tits, hardened from being so turned on by all this. You'd stopped wearing a bra around him months ago, and it was all worth it as he reached up and palmed one of your breasts.

"Mm," he hummed, "you've got great tits, baby— you show them off too much, though."

He slid his hand across your chest to touch the other gently. "I only did that for you, Mr. Harrington," you promised, "I just wanted your attention... wanted you to see how grown up I am..."

He smirked. "You got my fucking attention, sweetie."

With renewed energy, you started to take control again, riding him in earnest. "Really?" you confirmed hopefully. "Did you think about me, daddy? Did you ever jerk off and think about my tits?"

He delayed his answer by hissing a little, looking down at where your pussy slid up and down on him before tilting his head back again. "Yes," he admitted, "yeah, I thought about you. I would've done it a lot more if I knew you wanted me to."

"Of course I wanted you to," you giggled, "I have such a big crush on you, Mr. Harrington, I have for so long..."

"A crush, huh?" he laughed.

You nodded eagerly, whining when he held onto you tighter and started to thrust up into you off the couch.

"You know I'm more than twice your age, right?" he reminded you with a purr, and you nodded. "You know I'm older than your dad, right?"

Your head was spinning, but you nodded again.

"And you know I could get you pregnant... right?"

You moaned, head falling back, and he laughed.

"I knew it," he gloated, "I knew that was what you wanted— knew you needed some babies fucked into you, sweet girl. Daddy's gonna knock you up, s'that what you want?"

"Yes, yes!" you sobbed.

You weren't moving at all now, you were limp and useless as he thrust up into you hard and fast, making you cry and moan so loudly he had to cover your mouth. "I'll come, fuck, nice and deep," he promised, "and give you a baby, yeah? Get you so full and pregnant, just how you want it."

You were begging him for it, but it was all muffled into nonsense under his hand as he fucked up into you rough and fast. It ended with a groan, his head falling back and his body going limp under you as he came. You collapsed onto him, both of you sinking into the couch as you caught your breath.

His hands rested on your thighs still, sometimes petting them or moving up to your waist; you shyly hid your face in the crook of his neck, hardly believing that this really happened— and terrified you would wake up and realize it was all a wonderful dream. "Think I'm gonna need you to babysit for me again tomorrow night," he broke the silence suddenly. "I'll pay double for the short notice."

"I'll do it for free," you replied.

john, johnny seo (m)

Pulling his legs up on the couch, he wraps himself up in a ball, chin resting atop his knees. There’s a cool breeze passing through the living room from the balcony where Mark and Haechan jump around, helping you put up washing. You always call on them at times like these, their energy tenfold that of their hyungs and most importantly, their willingness to help. He hears you yelp as Haechan drops a white pillow case, quickly warning him about playing around with Taeyong’s linens and he apologises just as fast. Mark sniggers just out of your view, Haechan sticks out his tongue. Then you’re all laughing again, the two of them handing you sheets then running back inside as you slide the balcony door shut.

Your gaze doesn’t even pass Johnny’s as you sit, wedged between the couch’s arm and Jaehyun, shifting as you make room for Jungwoo, who rushes to sit on the ground between your legs. He practically purs at your touch, the back of his head resting on your knee as you scratch his scalp, sending him to sleep in mere seconds. Jaehyun just leans into you, his freshly washed hair flicking cold drops on you when you push him off, he flinches at the obvious threat in your eye. When he pouts in apology, your lips purse, holding back a grin as he offers you one, pushing his hair back before you finally let him relax into you again.

A few moments pass before you ask Doyoung to explain the plot of the drama he’s watching, unfamiliar with it though interested. Usually annoyed by interruptions, Johnny suspects he’ll refuse. But to his surprise, Doyoung pauses it, divulging everything he can conjure from his memory alone before rewinding through the current episode to give you context, names, settings. Johnny loves how engrossed you are in what Doyoung’s saying. How your hands never cease scratching Jungwoo’s scalp, how you keep the motion steady as your jaw drops, giving small nods as you follow his narrative, the drama astounding you.

You ask if you can watch too, and this is when Yuta interrupts, talking about football starting soon and Doyoung having already hogged the television this week. A fight for the controller breaks out. Nothing too crazy but you’re mindful of a sleeping Taeyong, his balled up figure not far from where Johnny sits. A hush falls over the room when you silence them, their eyes journeying to his dozing frame before they give up, offering you the remote. With a tilt of your head, you gesture towards Taeil, who just hovers behind the couch, unbothered.

This was a regular non-work day in the 127 household. The world spinning, life continuing. There’s so much domesticity here, and that makes life all the more enjoyable. Johnny thinks you have had something to do with that. How you dote on Haechan yet still see through his charm. How you care for Mark, and praise him constantly. How you pamper Jungwoo, your gentle touch settling him. How you challenge Jaehyun yet soothe him with your words. How Doyoung can confide in you, his every thought yours for the taking. How Yuta crumbles for you and gives you your way. How Taeyong finds peace in you and safety in your nurturing. How Taeil has an ally in you, a companion, a friend.

And Johnny?

He didn’t really know. You cared for him deeply. He knew that. Not the way you did everyone else, just in the way you trusted him. To step up when he had to. Whether it be caring for the youngest or shouldering responsibility for the eldest. You’d begun to rely on Johnny how you didn’t anyone else. But that didn’t mean he didn’t need you like they did. Sure, Johnny could take care of himself and everyone else. He found joy in being someone they needed, in being their support. But, there are days where he too craves your soft touch and praise. Where he wants to lay his head on the soft skin of your thighs and feel your hands in his hair, a song filling the air as you stroke the expanse of his cheeks, a finger trailing the highest points of them before you leave a soft kiss.

Johnny wants your attention. He craves it. Like the rest do but so much more. He wants you to look for him in a room of people and go to him. He wants you to be his refuge. He wants you.

“John?” But for starters, he wants you to call him Johnny. “Hey, are you okay?”

It’s nearing midnight and he’s standing in the center of your room, while you hover at your door. When he doesn’t say anything, you approach him, closing the door behind you. He slept in here when you were off on a schedule and he forgot his charger. He’s holding it in one hand while his other inspects a photo, it’s of the members - minus him.

“Noona, why don’t you like me?”

You don’t think you hear him right—no. You definitely didn’t. So you walk around him to find he’s crestfallen, a frown you can’t stand the sight of taking his face. “What do you mean?”

“Like the others. You don’t treat me like them.”

You look at the picture and immediately return to that day. You’d all been walking the streets of LA, the sun was high but so were your spirits. You remember his camera never once left his hand, always snapping shots of you all. He’d been the one to take the photo. That’s why you loved it. He captured you all so well, his eye for lighting and skilful focus. Johnny did everything so well. It was hard to believe you were his senior. He had always been just that bit better than you in every way and yet, it’s only now you’re seeing what that is doing to him.

“You treat the members like you love them more than me.” The idea he felt less loved by you made your breath shake, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Do you not care about me?”

“How can you say that?” He looks up then, the hurt on your face making him regret it instantly.

“You don’t talk to me like you talk to them. You don’t even call me Johnny. You don’t play with me or hang out with me. You never ask me to do anything or want my help at home. It’s like I don’t even exist.” He doesn’t realise this all upsets him until now. Now he sees a version of the group without him. A version that you might see in your mind. “Am I just your colleague?”

“Johnny.” He doesn’t think you’ve ever scolded him. Not once. He hates it. “Don’t. Don’t ever say that.” He’s hot under your gaze. The way your brows crease, the anger in your eyes. He doesn’t know at what. At him, yourself. But he can’t lie, the attention is nice. “Of course you aren’t. You’re so much more than that.”

“Then why?” It’s barely even a whisper, but you hear him, the want. The need. “Do you think I don’t need you like they do? That I don’t need you to hold me when I’m sad? To t-touch me?”

This isn’t Johnny. Not the one you’re used to. The loud, boisterous Johnny who, and though now you think you’re wrong, is immovable. Independent Johnny, who you wished and prayed to be more like than anyone. Johnny who you envied for his resilience and his drive. Johnny who intimidated you for so long. He saw the good in literally everything. It drove you a little insane, the idea you’d never meet his standard. That there existed someone so impenetrable, you would always be lesser.

But then, maybe that was never Johnny. That was the Johnny you made him out to be. The Johnny you unknowingly pushed him to be. The Johnny he thought you needed. That was John.

This is is Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes bore into yours. They’re pained and so frighteningly lonely yet so breathtaking. As if there’s been so much behind them and your forced image and expectation of him kept it there. If you dwell on it too much, it might crush you beyond repair. So you rid yourself of it. The idea this was a man who could carry the weight of the world because he merely acted like he could. You forget what you thought. You just accept what you see.

Johnny needs you.

You raise a careful hand to his cheek, shocked by how quickly he responds. He nuzzles into your open palm, shuddering breaths leaving him as he sinks into your touch. It’s a sight to behold. The skin that smooths between his brow, the slight lift of the corners of his mouth. You feel like you’re like this for hours, your arm grows tired. Your heart constricts when you pull it away and he whimpers, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to stop you.

“It’s okay.” You whisper, his eyes following you as you move to your bed. “Can we sit down?” He just follows you, the bed dipping on your left as you watch him sit. “Johnny?” He turns, his eyes following as you lay down. “Do you want to cuddle?”

He nods then, embarrassment filtering in at the idea. Had you really never done this with him? You shake your head, happy to have it happen at long last. You pull his head to your chest, his arms loop around your middle so naturally you wonder if you’d been mistaken. Until his legs do the same, winding with yours. The feeling is unfamiliar though welcomed. How thick his thighs feel between your own, how long his limbs are. He is undoubtedly huge yet he fits so perfectly around you, you can’t help but think you were made to be his comfort. He squeezes you tighter as you shift, your giggles filling the air as he nuzzles himself further into your breasts. This isn’t new for you. It was awkward in the early days, but it’s far from that now.

Running your fingers through his hair, you giggle as he groans, the deep rumbles are again, nothing new.

You offer a slight tug for his attention, thinking it might be about time to talk. To acknowledge your mistakes.

It’s now you realise how new this is for him. How his cheeks flush against your chest and hands on your hips are brand new sensations for him. Your dull nails scratching along his scalp and gentle snag on the ends. They all make his eyes hooded, his breaths a bit ragged as he gulps, looking up at you. “Sorry.” You immediately know what he’s sorry for. It’s pressing on your thigh. It’s firm and painfully obvious. You just smile, stroking a thumb along his cheek and staring into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Johnny.” He thinks you might be an angel. How gentle you are, how understanding. But he thinks you might be fallen when you ask him, “Do you want me to take care of it?”

He should say no. You’d done everything he needed and more. He hadn’t meant he needs you for this. This is more of a want. This isn’t something he needs but it’s what he’s always wanted. And he knows it’s stupid, he knows you just feel bad and he knows it’s desperate. He knows he’ll hate himself. That blurring the lines between you any further won’t satisfy him. But you’re here, waiting, with kind eyes that hold him captive. Your fingers still card through his hair, moving it out the way for you to get a better look at him. No. You’re not just looking at him. You’re seeing him. It’s all he ever wanted. He decides he likes getting what he wants.

His nod is ever so slight, you only see it because of how attentive you are to him. You feel it in your hands, the small shift in his neck. You hear it in the sheets, the fabric moving with him. He watches you smile at him, your offer no longer hanging in the air though the insinuation does. He’s scared he missed your point, frightened he’d messed this up. But then your eyes drift. And you’re not just watching him, but staring. At his lips. The small part in them, where he draws small, careful breaths. And you’re moving, bringing yours to his in a kiss so soft, he can’t help but flinch. At how fragile you think him to be. How differently you see him now.

“I won’t break you know.” He teases with a small laugh, his hands gripping your hips a tiny bit harder, as if showing you the force he could handle. “I can take it.”

“Johnny,” his smile falls slightly, noting the hints of sadness in your eyes. “I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.” He doesn’t want to cry. He isn’t broken. He’s just lonely. But then your voice cracks and he thinks he just might. “I want to show you I’m sorry. I-I want to be what you need.”

That’s all he wants. But he can’t help feel overwhelmed by the affection. The intimacy he’s wanted for so long, pouring out of you like a faucet. He trusts you though. That you’ll take good care of him. That you’d know what he wants. That he’d be in the safest hands. So he nods as he leans in, his hunger cloaked by desperation as his lips mould with yours, your hands cupping his cheeks, fingers scratching his nape. A groan rumbles in him, pouring into your mouth as you press your thigh to his crotch, pulling back to watch his jaw clench. He watches your eyes fall to the space between you, his hips circling into your thigh as he watches you intently, his lip caught painfully between his teeth. He’s surprised when you moan at his actions, his pace slowly building before you stop him.

“Use me.” He’s lost because that’s already what he’s doing. “Use me, Johnny. Fuck me.” He doesn’t believe you. Not until you’re practically begging. “I-I want to help you. I want to be what you need. Fuck me. Please.” You press your forehead to his, fingers still digging into his hips, you’re so close his eyes cross. He sees the lust in your gaze though, it’s almost lethal. “You can use me. Please use me.”

Not a single part of him is torn. He’s practically trembling in anticipation at the thought, his hands scramble to free you of your shorts, stripping you in one swift motion, freeing himself nearly as quickly. He pauses as he sees holiness if your gaze, a reverence reflected back in your eyes. You nearly quiver, the once omnipotent being bared out for you. His hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. His leaking tip, twitching as you reach out to stroke your fingers along his abdomen. He nearly giggles at your touch, earning a soft one from you.

“You’ve always been so good for me, John.” He frowns, scared that is no longer the case. “Let me be good for you now.”

He leans down then, a hand balancing him beside your head, the other pumping him a few times. The feeling of your fingers on his skin is heavenly. How you squeeze his shoulders and stroke down his arms. Never a misplaced pressure. Your touch is planned yet free, your hands passing over the expanse of his back, enjoying the feel of him beneath your palms.

“You feel so good,” you whisper, his breath hitching. “You’re so good to me, Johnny. Thank you,” He presses his forehead to yours again, his nose rubbing against yours as you gaze up at him. “My perfect Johnny.” He kisses you to hide his blush, though the heat beneath your hands is a give away. “My perfect boy.”

He’s beaming. It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen and you want to scream because you could’ve seen this all along. You could’ve made Johnny so happy and saved him the pain of—

“Don’t do that,” he says, seeing the regret in your eyes. “Forget about it. You know now.”

You do. And it dulls the pain for a moment, and his kiss numbs it but his cock sliding into you, wrapped snuggly in your slick walls, banishes it. You can think of nothing else. Nothing but the delicious sounds he fills your ears with. The grunts that pour out of him as you clamp around him. The kisses he peppers your lips with, his mind full of you.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks anyway, lips now concentrating on yours, his hips still. You nod, eager to please. “Where should I come?”

“Wherever you want.”

He’s in love. He ignores the brief thought as he tucks his arms under yours, craddling your head so he can rest his body on you, your chest heavy though your vision fills with him. His hips roll without warning. He moves them in small circles, his lips moving in time with yours, tongues tangle together. He deepens the kiss every time you whimper, the sound urging on his thrusts, the intimate winds of his hips abandoned as you scratched down his back, your hands squeezing his ass, pulling him further into you. Your lips slack as his thrusts increase in speed, the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room along with your whines. He isn’t muffling them anymore, he’s watching you. How your jaw hangs open, letting your whimpers pour out. With a small change in his angle, your eyes screw shut, making it harder for you to take his thrusts. He rises to lean on his hands, snapping his hips rapidly into you, his tip hitting the spot that has you crying out for him, all other sounds erased from his memory at the sound of that. John falls from your lips as you struggle to hold on. John trapped behind a moan as his thumb circles around your clit. John crawls its way up your throat before you open your eyes at his request, only to see him.

Johnny.

Who snaps into you for the final time as he lets go, his seed spilling into you. He fills you completely as you milk him, the walls of your cunt coated in your mingling arousal as you clamp around him, refusing to let him go. Not that he wants out. So you both just stay like this, his wet forehead pressed against yours, the air in the room cold on your damp skin.

You blink away the fatigue so you can see him, sighing contentedly when he beams down at you. You’ve seen him smile like this, but never at you. You want to see it always. “You okay?” He asks, wiping your forehead dry.

Nodding, you do the same, finding your palms just as wet. But yes, you are okay. And so is he.