I’m Lai, ‘99-liner, a Fat Black Femme, Caribbean (🇧🇸) & Afro-Latiné (🇨🇺), with She/Her pronouns.
I’m a multistan & write for a lot of Kpop groups, Soloists, K-RnB, K-Rock/Indie artists. If you’re curious about a particular idol or artist, my ask box is open and I’ll let you know!
Here’s Navigation for my Writing & you can also join the Blacktiny Writers Hub community here on Tumblr!
I don’t write fics containing scat, age play, race play, or water sports. This is a classy establishment.🙄
My writings will always be Written with a Black Reader in Mind, or as I like to abbreviate: WwaBRiM. BUT everyone [18+!!! MDNI.] is able to read it!
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Likes are nice, but comments & reblogs are so important and gets the work of writers out to a larger scale of fic enthusiasts who may not see it otherwise. Do your most to pass on the joy of a good read to your fellow bloggers. ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
[All of my writings are original works of FICTION. I do not give anyone permission or right to plagiarize my work in any way shape or form.]
thinking about peter using his webs to tie you up…
tags — 18 + minors dni | f!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), bondage, pet names (sweetheart), dirty talk? creampie (0.5k wc)
you have practically been begging peter to use his webs on you but he always refuses, claiming he was too afraid he’d hurt you. little did you know, all it took was a few teasing comments and very wandering hands for the last shred of his restraint to crumble.
a soft thwip cuts through the air as a thin, glistening strand of web shoots from his wrist. webbing binds your hands to the headboard, leaving you lying bare all for peter to see. he glides a hand up the side of your thigh before gently spreading your legs apart.
“happy now, sweetheart?” peter whispers against your ear.
you hum, nodding your head as peter nudges the tip of his cock against your already dripping entrance—watching it flutter around nothing, aching and desperate to be filled. you feel his hand dig into the mattress beside you as he slowly starts to push in—the stretch making your toes curl and back arch.
you gasp, your slick heat sucking him in immediately, coating him in your slick. your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the stretch—no matter how many times peter fucks you, he always splits you open.
“you’re a tease, y’know that?” he mumbles, his voice wrecked and raw. “finally got what you wanted, huh?”
he slides in almost effortlessly, your slick making a filthy mess of his cock, dripping down his balls as he sinks deep—stuffing you to the brim. you clench around him again and peters head spins, his vision blurring.
he fists the duvet in one hand as the other slides between your bodies and circles your clit. he drives into you, hips snapping forward with a force that has your thighs trembling.
“pete—” your moan breaks, your body jolting with every thrust.
he drops his head onto your shoulder, his teeth nipping gently at your pulse point. you tug at the webbing around your wrists, desperate to touch him, and peter laughs shakily in response.
“you—fuck—asked for this,” peter rasps, his breath hot against your skin.
you whimper, unable to answer with words anymore as the pleasure steals all the air from your lungs. you are soaked beyond belief, your slick leaking all over his cock, down to his balls, and coating your thighs. you are unbelievably close and peter can tell—he can feel it.
before you know it, your orgasm crashes over you. it hits you hard and fast—making your vision go white. your cunt pulses around him, clenching and fluttering, so tight peter can barely move.
the way you clench around him completely destroys what little control he has left. his hips stutter as he reaches his own release—painting your insides.
he collapses forward, catching himself on his elbows before crushing you beneath the weight of his body.
“just so you know,” peter whispers breathlessly. “you’re stuck like that for two hours.”
“ha ha, very funny, bug boy,” you roll your eyes weakly.
note — post #5 for my 1k celebration!
(req) — do you write for the mcu? if so could you write something for peter parker?
💭 𓈒⠀𓈒ㅤㅤ peter parker fucking you from behind , your face pressed against his forearm and bicep in a deliciously sweaty headlock. you feel his weight and sweaty chest pressed against your back , feeling all hot and lost in the pleasure. your teeth would bite deep marks into his bicep to hold in your moans—feeling shy after he praised how pretty you sounded for him, he’d let out a desperate mix of a moan and whine at the pleasurable pain in your ear.
panting and whining in your ear , telling you how good you feel and begging for more as if he didn’t have you in a position where he controlled everything and could take what he wanted. he could overpower you in every single way but no , you had him falling to his knees with just a look , peter truly was putty in your hands.
his eyes would roll back as he felt you clenching around him, the way your nails dig into his biceps, feeling a mixture of your drool and tears of pleasure soaking his bicep and the pillow, how his name sounded coming from your lips. the sounds of skin slapping, the bed creaking and the beautiful euphonious melody of your shared sounds of pleasure, filled the bedroom of the safe house.
the feeling of you cumming around him brought him right to the edge, while the feeling of you pushing back against him, using him to fuck yourself through your orgasm, made him cum deep inside you with a choked out moan. sniffling and placing wet kisses along your shoulders as he tried to calm down from the intense and passionate love making, both of you sensitive and twitching with each little after shock…whispering shared and desperate ‘I love yous’
Ი𐑼 yeah so it’s short , just a little thought and concept but I will definitely write a longer fic about this <3 I’m not prepared for the person I’m going to become when the movie is out … I’m already freaking out from the trailer 🤓
He almost couldn’t take it. The way you squirmed and whimpered. The little sounds you made, growing louder until he had no choice but to cover your mouth with a hand, softly groaning into your skin.
“Shhh princess…gotta be-quiet…” he breathes, softly groaning once more. You were so wet, those thick thighs trembling around his waist. It’s been a while for him, he couldn’t lie.
He’s groaning into your skin as he rocks his hips, your muffled whine making him shudder. You were going to wake his roommates….he just knew it.
“I know…I know….” He coos, his dark eyes meeting your now tearing gaze. “Fuck…” Despite him trying to control your vocal cords, he couldn’t muffle the sound of his skin pounding against yours under the sheets. Soft and muffled, but a sound nonetheless. Your muffled cry matched each tap of his hips, your nails digging into his abdomen. “Almost there…” He whispers, his lips finding your neck and then your ear. “Cum on my cock princess…all over it…you look so pretty…you feel so good…” Your eyes are rolling at his words, toes curling behind his ears.
His teeth press into the side of your neck as you completely drench him on command, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs.
He’s groaning into your neck, his pace becoming sloppy as he gets in a few more strokes, his sweaty skin molding against yours. He’s grunting then, thick splotches of cum landing on your lower abdomen and upper thighs. “Fuck,” He gasps, the tip of his still hard cock lightly tapping against your stomach.
You’re flinching away from his nimble fingers as he passes them along your clit. He’s humming to himself, still breathing heavily. Your breath comes out it slight pants, your shaking fingers gripping his forearm. “P-Peter…” You moan softly, your gaze clearing just slightly to see his face. The pale light that filtered through the blinds shined on his face. His sweaty forehead, damp hair, the rise and fall of his shoulders. His eyes. His dark eyes staring into you. Waiting. Wanting, but waiting.
As if subconsciously telling yourself what you wanted, your legs are spreading once more, your eyes rolling back as the tip slowly drifts downward. A whimper escapes you and then a whine as you slowly glides himself inside of you, cock pulsating with just the idea of it.
You’re suddenly locking eyes with him as the soft rumbling noise occurs. A moment and action that puts you back to where it started. Where the teasing started. Your face twists as you try to stifle your moan, your hand wildly reaching for a barrier, a pillow. You wouldn’t be able to contain yourself.
He’s kind enough to hand you one, his free hand softly squeezing your hip. The moment the suction settles over your clit, he starts to move, his strokes slow and deliberate. Your cries were already starting. Your body was twisting, despite his grip tightening on you.
You had no idea the monster you created. He watches your hands, brown skin stark against the white pillow, pressing to conceal the noises coming from your mouth. Your breasts bounced with every push. Your legs quivered underneath his touch.
Pairing: Legend Killer Randy Orton x Chubby Female Reader
Genre: Smut
Characters: Randy, Y/N, John Cena, Batista
Description: After Batista and John Cena protect Y/N from the jealous Divas, Randy Orton rewards them by sharing her in an intense foursome that ends with a surprising twist for Randy.
The atmosphere backstage at WWE during the mid-2000s is always electric, but for you, it’s often suffocating. Being the partner of the "Legend Killer" Randy Orton comes with a heavy price. While Randy adores every inch of your chubby frame, the Divas are venomous. They see your curves and your confidence as a threat, or worse, a joke. Whenever Randy is occupied with a match, they swarm you like vultures, whispering insults about your weight and claiming Randy is only with you out of pity.
Today was particularly brutal. While Randy was in the ring, a group of them cornered you in the locker room, sneering at you and deliberately sweeping your gear and personal belongings off the table, laughing as your things scattered across the floor. You felt small, your eyes stinging, until two massive shadows loomed over the women.
Batista and John Cena didn't say much; they didn't have to. Their sheer size and stern looks sent the Divas scurrying in a panic. For the rest of the afternoon, the two giants stayed by your side, acting as your personal shields.
When Randy finally returned, sweaty and adrenaline-pumped, you clung to him and told him everything. You told him how grateful you were for Dave and John. Randy, knowing exactly how those women operated and knowing that both Batista and Cena had been eyeing your soft curves with hunger for months, felt a surge of possessive generosity. He didn't want to just thank them; he wanted to reward them.
"They took care of what's mine," Randy whispered against your ear, his voice a low growl. "I think it's time we show them how much we appreciate it."
The day of the encounter arrives, and the tension in the hotel suite is thick enough to cut with a knife. You are sitting on the edge of the massive king-sized bed, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that barely contains your breasts and hips. Randy, Batista, and Cena stand before you, three of the most powerful men in the industry, all focused on you with predatory intensity.
Randy doesn't waste time. He strips you bare, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you toward him. "You're so fucking beautiful," he groans, burying his face in your cleavage.
The onslaught begins with a feverish hunger. You are swarmed by muscle and heat. John Cena’s large hands roam over your stomach and hips, squeezing your flesh with a firm grip that makes you moan. Batista is behind you, his massive chest pressing against your back, his tongue tracing the line of your spine before he drops down to lick and suck your nipples into hard peaks.
Randy pushes you back onto the mattress, his cock already rock hard and leaking. He dives between your legs, his tongue flicking expertly against your clit. You arch your back, screaming as he laps at your juices, while Cena moves to your side, sucking on your breast and biting your shoulder.
"I want it, Randy! Please!" you wail, your hips bucking.
Randy replaces his tongue with his cock, sliding deep into your soaking wet pussy with one powerful thrust. You scream, your legs wrapping around his waist as he hammers into you. The friction is intense, the feeling of his thick shaft stretching you open, making you squirt violently across the sheets.
As Randy pulls out, gasping, Batista takes his turn. He flips you over, hoisting your chubby ass into the air. He enters you from behind with a guttural roar, his massive girth filling you completely. You feel every inch of him hitting your cervix, the sheer power of his thrusts shaking your entire body. You reach back, grabbing his muscular arms, sobbing with pleasure.
"You like that, don't you, baby?" Batista grunts, his sweat dripping onto your skin.
Then comes the chaos of the foursome. You are a playground for them. Cena takes over, his cock sliding into your mouth while Randy fucks you from behind, and then they switch, rotating positions until you are a trembling, leaking mess of pleasure.
The peak of the encounter happens when you are positioned in the centre of the bed. Batista is underneath you, his cock buried deep in your ass, stretching your tight hole to the limit. Simultaneously, Randy is on top of you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, his lips locked onto yours in a passionate, messy kiss. You are being double-penetrated, your body stretched and filled by two of the world's strongest men.
"Oh god, Randy! It feels so good! I'm coming!" you scream, your walls pulsing around both of them.
John Cena is positioned behind Randy, watching the rhythmic motion of the Legend Killer’s hips. As he looks closer, he notices something glinting—a large, sparkling diamond plug inserted deep into Randy's ass. He remembers Randy mentioning in confidence how much he loved being pegged by you, how the feeling of being filled made him lose control.
Driven by a sudden impulse, Cena reaches out and grips the base of the plug. With one swift, firm tug, he pulls the diamond plug out of Randy.
Randy lets out a sharp, shocked gasp, his body stiffening. Before he can even process what happened, Cena lines himself up and drives his thick cock straight into Randy’s open heat.
Randy’s eyes go wide, his head snapping back as a loud, high-pitched moan rips from his throat. The sensation of being filled while he is filling you sends him into a state of pure euphoria. He begins to thrust into you even harder, his movements becoming frantic and desperate as he loses his mind to the feeling of Cena fucking him from behind.
You look back, seeing the powerful Legend Killer reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, his face flushed with pleasure. You love seeing him this vulnerable, this undone. The sight pushes you over the edge.
"Yes! Fuck him, John! Fuck him!" you scream.
The synchronisation is perfect. Randy lets out a guttural cry, his cock pulsing as he cums deep inside your pussy. At the same moment, Batista lets out a roar, filling your ass with a hot load of cum. Cena gives one final, deep thrust into Randy, groaning as he releases his seed deep inside the other man.
The room falls silent, save for the sound of heavy, ragged breathing. You are sprawled out, drenched in sweat and cum, feeling completely spent and cherished.
As the four of you collapse into a heap of tangled limbs and soft skin, Randy pulls you close, his voice still a bit shaky. He looks at Batista and Cena, a smirk playing on his lips despite his exhaustion.
"I think," Randy pants, kissing your forehead, "that we should definitely make this a regular thing."
You giggle, snuggling into the warmth of the three men, knowing that you are the most protected - and most satisfied - woman in the WWE.
sprinkling in little things like “say please” or “could you do that for me?” in casual situations to test the waters around pope’s pleasing kink. ⋆˚꩜｡
just from watching him around his family, you could tell pope liked to be needed. even when it was just the two of you, he was so gentle, so ready to listen to your words. even a small request would have him at your door in a heartbeat. he always went above and beyond for you, even if the two of you weren’t exactly a couple. you both… understood each other. that understanding made pope open up more little by little.
you first tested it out on a monday morning.
lena was sat at the counter, enjoying a small stack of pancakes you had whipped up. around a month ago, you’d began staying over more. with both baz and cath gone, you knew that pope needed a little help. it was the least you could do.
you stood by the stove, pouring more pancake mix into the pan. nowadays you spent almost every morning together, whether you stayed the night or not. by the time the pancakes were done, pope had rounded the corner like clockwork. lena had almost finished her stack, sipping a small glass of orange juice. she was completely consumed by the cartoons on the tv, a small pleasure you gave her before she had to leave for school.
“s’not good to watch cartoons so early.” pope muttered, mainly to you rather than lena. he stood parallel to you, his eyes shifting from the little girl, to you. he silently studied the furrow of your brow as you managed to flip the last pancake.
“It’s fine, a little pbs isn’t going to kill her, pope.”
pope only shrugged, leaning against the counter as you readied up a plate. he liked having you here. everything felt less empty when you were around. despite his necessity for organization and cleanliness, he liked how you just existed. he eyed the mess of your bags and strung about shirts on the couch. it was your domain as of late. most times he’d walk through the door and find you already asleep. he’d watch you for a bit. watch the steady thump of your pulse against your neck, or the subtle twitch in your hand when he knew you were dreaming.
he wanted to make sure you were safe. that you were comfortable.
you caught on to that quickly enough.
you handed pope a plate, done just the way he liked. the plate warm against your palm as you surveyed him. His hair was slightly damp from his shower, the auburn curls sticking to the back of his freckled neck.
pope turned his attention back to you, ready to take the plate before you pulled it back. his hand grabbed the air before quickly falling back down. he looked at you, a slight quirk in his eyebrow. he reached for the plate again, you tutted.
“say please.” you gave him a coy look. pope’s eyes dropped from your face, to the pancakes, then rose back to your face. he hadn’t caught on yet.
“please?” he mumbled. since when did he have to say please?
“what was that?” you teased, cupping your ear to hear him better.
“please.” he said, this time with more clarity. His eyes stayed trained on you. he felt like he had missed something.
you nodded, handing him the plate. “that’s what i like to hear.” you smirked at him, readying your own plate.
pope stood there for a few more seconds before sitting down at the counter. he watched your figure move about as you made your breakfast. why had you done that? a thousand questions spun in pope’s mind. teasing wasn’t an irregularity from you, especially in the morning. however, this carried more weight to it. he was so used to smurf and her condescending warnings, the way she’d call him baby while daring him to cross her again.
he’d done something wrong.
that had to be it.
why else would you ask him to say please?
maybe you felt unappreciated. with all the jobs pope pulled, it was mostly you and lena here together. lena loved you, you were able to connect easily with her.
the thought only made pope’s guilt stir further. he wanted to make you feel special, to feel supported. he tried to recall all the times you’d made him something to eat. sure he never asked you to, but it was the thought that counted wasn’t it?
he’d do better, for your sake.
you tested it out again around a week later.
pope kept the door open as lena walked into the house. he watched as she went into her room, presumably shrugging off her backpack after a long day at school.
“pope? can you come here for a second?” you yelled from the bathroom.
the shower head had been leaking recently. normally you’d have brushed it off if it was in your own home, but you knew pope liked having something to do. something to fix.
pope was in there a second after you finished your sentence.
“yeah?” he looked around, wondering for a split second if you were hurt. he gave you a once over, checking for any sign of injury. once he’d reasoned that you were fine, he let himself relax.
“The shower head’s been leaking, do you think that you could fix it? could you do that for me, please?”
pope glanced up at the nozzle, he watched it steadily drip. he slowly looked back at you, wordlessly nodding. your phrasing had made him feel warm, and pliant.
“i’ll have to grab my tools, they’re at smurf’s.”
you smiled, gently rubbing his bicep.
“thank you, you’re so sweet.” you slipped past him then, letting your hand linger before leaving the room.
pope watched you go, his skin prickling at the residual sensation of your grasp. he liked it when you touched him, it usually meant he’d done something right.
“no problem…” he muttered, buffering for a moment before getting to business.
from then on, pope made an effort to be better. he constantly said his please and thank you’s, he helped you clean, helped with whatever you asked him to.
in return he’d get validation. whether it be verbal, physical, or emotional.
you’d tell him how he did such a great job, or how you were proud of him. you’d rub his back, his shoulder, his arm, occasionally giving it a little squeeze. your praise rain straight to his cock, his whole body warming as if on command. it felt good knowing he’d done well for you. he knew he’d do it over and over again just to get that sweet look in your eye.
you knew your affect on him. pope was so gentle with you, if was only fair you treat him the same way. at a glance it might’ve seemed a bit exploitative. but truly, you knew pope liked to be useful. if it made him feel good, it made you feel good.
plus there was that odd time when you heard him jacking off after you’d called him your little helper.
you had him wrapped around your finger, and pope loved it.
a/n: not proofread, srry. also pope is so hard to write for. tell me if this is poopy or not (･_･;
oneshot (request) - logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words)
pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader
tags - established relationship, fingering, petnames: babygirl, baby, good girl, praising, kind of overstimulation, squirting, lots of squirting, a little rough, he talks reader through it, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, logan makes reader taste themselves.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
you're splayed out on his lap on the sofa just how he likes you to be, nestled on top of his plush, firm thighs. your knees are bent with your ankles resting over either side of his legs, your back flush with his warm chest, your whole body exposed, open, for him.
logan's thick, calloused fingers lazily stroke your clit, earning soft mewls from your lips as your head tilts back over his shoulder. his other hand is ensuring his middle finger pumps in and out of you at a slow pace, your body craving those broad digits stretching your tight walls.
.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.
you're moaning, gripping his arm for dear life as you squirm in his lap, rolling your hips instinctively. it was beautiful, the way he could make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just a few simple strokes, almost like a puppet, pulling your strings. he would never consider himself your 'master', but god, you'd let him control you whenever he liked.
he smirks, nuzzling his fuzzy beard into the side of your cheek, his lips finding their place at your ear, "that feel good, baby girl?" logan asks, his voice a deep purr. he already knows the answer.
you gasp at his low-toned voice, gruff like gravel but sweet like honey, "yes. . ."
"mh, that's what i thought. . . think you can take a little more though." he huffs, slipping another finger inside.
your walls clench around the sudden new presence and you moan, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give.
"that's it," he coos, picking up the pace, "good girl, gooood girl. . ." logan loves how easily he can slip inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. his sensitive ears perk up at the sweet sounds of your wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.
your cheeks flush, looking down at the way his fingers are making light work of you, your shirt hiked up to expose your breasts. with the pace increasing, and the way he's so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you feel a sensation start to build.
it's. . . new, almost uncomfortable but not quite. not the same as an orgasm but almost. it pools low in your belly, just a little out of reach.
but his fingers pick up again, slamming deep inside of you, curling just enough. his fingers circling your clit remain slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination of sensations that have you clenching around him and calling out his name over and over in some desperate plea. desperation for him to continue, for the building feeling, for him, full stop.
the feeling returns. fuck, it almost feels like you need to piss. your cheeks flush, eyes rolling back as you fight back the feeling, but he's rubbing you and touching you and fucking you too good for you to hold anything back.
"logan," you gasp, arching your back, "l-logan wait-"
but it's too late, before he even has the chance to slow down, you squirt. your juices coat his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sofa below earning a gasp from both of you.
his eyes widen, stopping his movements immediately causing you to whine at the sudden lack of friction.
then there's silence, save for the lewd wet dripping from the sofa onto the hardwood floor.
your head is reeling, did. . . did you just squirt? fuck, you'd never done that before. heart pounding, you swallow hard, instinctively wanting to apologise for the mess, "shit, sorry i-"
"holy fuck. . ." he whispers shakily before you even have the chance to finish your sentence, "where were you hidin' that from me?" you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he talks into your ear.
"what?" you whisper.
he smirks, kissing your ear, "you didn't tell me you could make cute little messes like that, baby."
"i didn't know i could. . ." you admit, biting your lip as you feel the cool air of the room brush against your dripping sensitive core.
logan's eyes widen, the implication of your words nestling deep in his brain, and groin. he was the first ever to make you squirt, the first to make you feel so good that you couldn't help but make a mess for him. pride swells in his chest, manifesting in a low rumbling smug chuckle at the back of his throat.
". . .think you could make another mess for me?" he hums, his fingers on your clit slowly resuming their movements.
you whimper, the new sensation you experienced was foreign but surprisingly welcomed. you had no idea it felt that good, that you could ever do that. but logan has a way of coaxing everything out of you, cock and fingers playing you like an instrument he's mastered.
"don't know. . ." you mumble, suddenly feeling skittish.
it's then that his fingers start fucking you again, gliding in and out easily, your fluttering hole welcoming the movement. "you can, i know you can." he encourages, nibbling at your ear, "you'll be a good girl, you'll make another mess for me, won't you?"
fuck, his words. his fucking words. every single time they had you acting crazy, letting out sounds you didn't know you could make. and he drinks them in, drinks up all those sweet little sounds from that pretty little mouth of yours that he loves so much.
you simply nod, feeling his digits pumping rougher, curling to find that sweet sweet spot once more. you're not sure if you can even do it again, but logan seems pretty fucking set on making him gush for you at least once more.
he scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you, the motion making you whine with pleasure. but when he pushes in a third finger? that's when you really start screaming for him.
"that's more like it, huh?" he grins, breathing deeply through his nose from how hard he's working you, "just needed a bit more, cus' i know you like it thick baby, don't you? like it thick like my cock?"
you want to gasp, to react to his words, but your eyes are rolling back again, mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you feel that sensation build once more. your body is tensing, thighs clenching, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. subconsciously you hold your breath as if that'll help. he's got you right where he wants you, right where he knows you want to be.
seconds later you're gushing, more this time - it lands on the hardwood below with a crude splash and coats his hands nicely. logan laughs, a deep dirty laugh as you writhe. he gives a gentle slap to your clit, then a firmer one, causing more to spill from you along with some squeaks.
"there we go, good girl, what a good girl. . ." you can hear the smirk in his voice, the wide grin he's wearing, the smugness lacing every word that leaves his lips, "feels good to make a mess for me, doesn't it?"
you're breathless, panting, overwhelmed in the best way. and then he speaks again.
". . . i think you can handle one more." logan purrs, movements suddenly fast and hard. his fingers fuck deep into you, curling to hit your g-spot with each calculated thrust. the fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing in practiced circles sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.
you want it too, you'd give it to him over and over again, create messes all night long if your body let you.
god you'd do anything for him, especially in that moment, and how could you not? the way his fingers play with you, toy with you, slide into you. . .
"d-don't know if i can!" you admit, huffing, trying to get more air.
but he shakes his head, "yes you can." is all he says, firmly.
and he's right. moments later you feel it pooling in your belly once more, the accompanying orgasm approaching that threatens to throw you overboard. you're lost in a sea of sensations, stars in your vision, his voice in your ear the only anchor you have to reality. you let it guide you, until you're drenching his fingers and jeans once more, voice ringing out within his bedroom as his voice coaxes and praises you softly.
his fingers on your clit come together to slap down against you, each smack against your sensitive bundle of nerves causing more to spray. you're making such a big mess, his jeans are damp. he doesn't care. this is what he wants, and fuck, if you don't feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life. . .
he keeps going, his fingers steadily pumping into you roughly, desperate to get every last drop as he feels you clamp down around his fingers. you're moaning, gasping, gripping onto his arm for dear life as you ride out your orgasm. it's too much, but it's also perfect. logan watches on in deep satisfaction as you writhe on his lap, his bulge pressing against you above him, cock twitching and rock hard just from touching you.
as your body relaxes, so do his movements, slowing down. he glides his fingers in a few times, enjoying the slick sounds they make before pulling them from your still-fluttering hole. he lazily drifts his damp digits along your tummy, leaving a trail of wetness up to your chest until it finds your mouth.
you part your lips gladly, turning your head to look up at him through hooded lids as you take his fingers in your mouth. diligently, your tongue laps at his fingers, reeling at the taste of yourself on him, dripping from him.
"good girl, you're always so fuckin' good for me. . ." he smiles, kissing your forehead as he watches you, his free hand resting on your tummy. you enjoy the feeling of his large palm against you, making you feel comforted whilst also grounding you after that whirlwind of release.
you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, instead kissing along his fingers and down across the sensitive skin of his knuckles. a silent thank you, for making you feel so good.
logan watches keenly, growling quietly at the stirring in his groin. his eyes flash with something. you'd call it mischief.
your eyes flit up to his, knowing what he's thinking before he's even said it.
"wonder what else you can do. . ." he smirks, "keeping any other secrets from me?" logan asks as he rolls his hips against you, prompting you to feel how hard he is for you and you exhale, relaxing back against him.
it was funny, how he could always push you right to the edge when you think you're spent.
summary: logan's in a rut and only his sweet girl can help him.
a/n: so i pictured dofp!logan but x trilogy!logan also works! hope you enjoy <3 also also not proof read so sorry for any errors
"scott, have you seen logan?" your delicate voice fills the study as you pass by, looking for your mentor.
logan has been missing all day, which isn't the most unusual thing but it is odd that he said he would train with you today and yet, he's nowhere to be found.
"charles said he wasn't feeling well." scott replied, barely gazing up at you. "he's probably still in bed."
you nod, turning around to head upstairs and check on logan like any good friend would.
the floorboards creek under your light foot steps down the hall. charles, hank, and storm took the kids to a lab overnight to work on their final projects. the rest of the adult were either training or lesson planning. the wooden door glowed with golden light illuminating the rim, so warm and welcoming.
one knock turned into three and four. all of them unanswered, leaving you slightly alarmed. this wasn't like logan to ignore you.
❀༉‧₊˚
meanwhile, beyond the wooden door, logan sat on his bed trying to get a grip on this feeling. it's happened before, the familiar warmth that spreads all over. a primal craving attempting to claw its way out of him.
normally, he can hide out until the rut is over but now it is different. now logan has his eyes on someone. not just someone though.
it's the girl he's been warned not to fall for. charles, jean, hank and scott have all told logan that he's not to make a move on you. the girl who's too pure for a big bad wolf like him. for once, he listened and steered clear of you, no matter how pretty you were.
until you signed up to be his teachers assistant.
now with the close proximity, logan is tortured by your scent. the sweet cherry he's become familiar with haunts his deepest thoughts. he could perfectly trace every outline on your body without even trying. honestly, he found it quite sickening how you've carved your spot in his mind.
next to him on the mattress are a pair of your panties from yesterday. he remembered seeing the slight flash of light blue from under your skirt when you dropped your pen in the hallway. there's a damp patch on them, calling his name in mocking tones.
"logan..?" your meek voice was barely audible behind the door. "can i please come in?"
a low growl hums in his chest at the sound of your voice. he wants nothing more than to let you inside and ravish you in the way he desires; but he doesn't want to scare you off.
"not now, sweetheart." he grunts almost as if he's in pain.
"a-are you okay?"
logan couldn't see you but he could picture your concerned face. scrunched eyebrows and wide bambi eyes, lips in a pout. god, he could just eat you up.
" 'm fine." his voice sounds rough, like a bark. he would never yell at you but he needed you to walk away because the feeling of his cock being suffocated in his jeans was killing him.
"alright." you whine. "see ya later then, lo."
soon enough he heard your footsteps down the hall, logan quickly strips himself of his black shirt, dark blue jeans and his boxers. without hesitation he reaches over to grab that panties he had taken from your hamper.
"fuck, smells so sweet." he groans, nose pressed against the soft soaked cotton as he tugs his throbbing cock. spreading the pearly beads of pre-cum.
with his senses clouded and a fire ignited in him, he kitten licks the patch, letting your slick dance on his tongue. picturing your legs wrapped around his head, how your tight hole would take his tongue or his fingers and the little noises that would escape you.
"that's my sweet pussy. all mine." logan mumbles possessively under his breath before spitting into the material and bringing it to his cock, using it to jerk off.
as his orgasm approaches, the fire intensifies; sweat dripping down his temples the faster his hand moves. abs also dripping in sweat as his chest rapidly moves up and down. mind swarmed with all the positions logan wants to put you in.
"s-shit." logan curses, clenching his teeth as his vision blurs and euphoria washes over him. ropes of cum spill all over his abs and happy trail, creating a sticky messy.
left alone and panting, covered in his release, logan's still unsatisfied. he knew there was only one thing that could fix this.
❀༉‧₊˚
it's near midnight when you finally hear logan leave his room. heavy boots heading towards the stairs, right by your room.
"where are you going, lo?" you ask, peaking out of your bedroom to catch him. he stops but doesn't acknowledge you. "gonna leave me here all alone?"
logan could've sworn that you would be asleep at this hour and he could leave to find some woman at the bar to help with his... situation.
"scott's around here somewhere." he dryly replies, trying to avoid your gaze.
"he left a few hours ago." you mumble, nervously messing with the bottom of your nightgown.
something was off about logan; you just couldn't figure out what it was. he wouldn't even look at you. had you done something wrong? was he upset with you? why was he avoiding you?
"i-is everything alright?" you ask, worried for the answer.
logan take a minute to respond, scratching the scruff on his face while he thinks. just because he looks strong doesn't mean he is internally. logan found his weakness in you. a woman he's known for a little over a year and yet you could bring him to his knees if you so pleased.
suddenly, logan turns and looks at you. he sucks in his breath sharply when he saw you dressed in a cute tiny white nightgown. logan was positive that you were the closest he will ever get to meeting an angel.
the material ends high up on your thighs and he swears that in this light he can see the outline of your nipples, watching how they pebble from the cool air in the hallway.
"it's just cravings." he finally answers, tearing his eyes off of your pretty shape.
the moment logan makes eye contact with you, you notice how the color changed from a light hazel to bordering black. he looked hungry. you've heard of this before, a feral state that mutants like him enter every six months or so and if you knew better, you would run.
"anything i can help you with?" you ask, batting your long lashes up at him.
"it's real dirty work, princess." logan warns, restraining himself from jumping at the opportunity.
"i don't mind." you tell him. in that moment, a familiar aroma hits him. "i wanna help you, logan."
normally, logan wouldn't let things get this far. sure, the two of you have made sly flirty comments in the past but it's never gone past just words.
he watches you walk back into your room, keeping the door open for him.
❀༉‧₊˚
your bedroom was damn near exactly how logan pictured it. soft earth toned colors, pretty sheets, messy desk with all the paperwork you two do together. most importantly, it smelled like you. not your perfume or whatever candle you lit earlier. this was different.
"logan..." your voice pulls him back to reality. "tell me what you want me to do."
so considerate. logan thinks to himself as he watches you sit with your knees against the mattress and look up at him like a dog looking at its owner, waiting for an order.
without a warning, logan crashes his lips against yours. it hot and messy how he almost swallows you whole. both of you have waited forever for this moment.
logan lays you flat on the mattress, not breaking the kiss. your teeth bite down on his bottom lip at the small thud. you go to whisper an apology but it's covered by logan's loud groaning.
he take this opportunity to grind against you, only covered in a pair of matching white panties. if he was in a clearer head space, he would've thought this was planned.
"u-uh, please." you whimper against his lips, lifting your hips a little to meet his.
it's quite cute how pathetic you look right now. struggling for more. logan latches his lips to your neck, leaving dark maroon bites behind as he moves further south.
at the waistband of your panties, logan nips at the skin on your hipbone, leaving behind a pretty mark to match the others. he craved to be closer to you. pressing his nose into the wet patch and inhaling sharply, grunting at your essence.
a loud squeal falls from your lips as you lazily try to push him away. too embarrassed by the lewd action. nonetheless, logan refuses to move until he's had enough. licking over the cotton and making out with your covered cunt.
"l-logan!" you gasp as he flips you over on your belly with your ass in the air.
the sound of the material ripping fills the room. this was better than logan could've imagined. the sight of your throbbing cunt as it cries for his attention, and only his.
"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he marvels under his breath. "gonna let me use it how i please, princess?"
"mhm." you nod, trying to look back at him. "it's yours, lo."
your words send him on a spiral, he sinks you down on his tongue so he can fuck you at his pace. exploring your walls and reveling in your taste. no dessert in the world could compare to you.
logan grinds against your mattress, desperately seeking relief. not that he's complaining. he's more than happy with his position; and so are you.
there will be bruises on your hips tomorrow, without a doubt because of how tightly logan's gripping your hips. keeping you right where he wants you to be.
"n-need more, please." you moan, fists balling up the sheets.
"what a greedy fuckin' baby." logan says, pulling off of a second to replace his tongue with two thick fingers, stretching you out for him.
pretty little 'uh, uh, uh's' spill from your lips every time you bounce back on logan's fingers. he's hypnotized by the way you manage to coat his finger with your slick. dripping down his palm and onto your sheets.
"look 'atcha, sweetheart." he mutters, doubtful that you can hear him over the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. "struggling to take my fingers. gotta stretch ya' for my cock. think you can take it?"
"mhm!" you answer, feeling a trail of kisses on the back of your thighs as logan speeds up his thrusts, locating your sweet spot with ease.
there's a warmth of pleasure that washes over you. it's different than anything else you've experienced. before you could even figure it out, you to gush all over logan's hand and the sheets.
"she's squeezing me so damn tight." he growls, watching as your pussy spasms from overstimulation, practically knocking the wind out of you. logan has to fight off cumming in his jeans as he licks up your release.
once logan allows you to catch your breath, you turn and say, "i've never um, never done that before."
"fuck." logan curses, smacking his palm down on your ass. "it won't be the last time tonight."
the sound of logan undoing his belt echos in the room. lining the head up to your entrance and slowly sinking into you. your eyes roll back into your head at the stretch. similar to a cat, you arch your back and purr at the feeling.
"f-feel so full." you moan as he picks up his pace.
"that's it, princess." he grunts, moving his hand down your back and wrapping it into your hair. "tell me how good it feels."
and you don't waste a single second to do so.
"you're s-so big, can feel you e-everywhere." you reply in between heavy breaths.
the hand wrapped in your hair tugs you forward so your back is against his chest. with his lips pressed against your ear, he mutters, "everywhere, huh?"
you nod, digging your nails into his thighs with each thrust. his other hand travels from your breast to your lower torso underneath the nightgown. your eyes shoot open as soon as he lightly pushes down.
"can you feel me right here?" he asks, slowing down his strokes for you to focus.
when you don't respond right away, the hand in your hair moves to your jaw, gripping it and angling your gaze down to the large bulge in your belly. you always knew logan was larger than the average man but you didn't even think this was possible.
"y-yes!" you whimper loudly, needing him to go faster.
logan's not religious by any means but in that moment, he wishes he could personally thank god for everyone being gone tonight. he can't imagine having to muffle your little moans right now while he starts pounding back into you.
"gimme kiss, please?" you whisper in between the lewd wet smacks of his heavy balls against your ass.
how could logan turn down his sweet girl? even while being ruined, you still managed to use your manners.
the two of you sloppily make out, exploring each other. he swallows all the whimpers you let out against his lips. except the one from when logan pulls back.
"what are you–?"
"open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me." logan demanded, staring down at you like a feral animal.
you obey, opening up for him like he asks. logan spits on top your tongue, feeling your tight cunt flutter around him. clenching at the taste of him.
"swallow." he says, watching you do so. "what a good girl."
"i'm so f-fucking close, lo." your head falls back against his shoulder as your vision turns white, stars behind your eye lids.
"me too." logan warns. " 'ya gonna let me fill you up, sweetheart? bet you wanna be full of me, to carry my seed? isn't that right?"
he knows you're too far gone, babbling incoherent sentences and soft pleas. the tiny, "mhm" and head nod give him the okay to cum inside you.
"s-shit!" he curses. "you're so tight, practically suffocating me, baby."
his orgasm triggers another for you, milking him until both of you are struggling for air. the room felt like the inside of a sauna and reeks of sex.
"got another one in you, pretty girl?" logan asks, slowly pulling out of you.
"y-yeah." you answer, letting him move you how he wanted.
logan slips your nightgown off of you and lays you down on your back again. this time fully taking in your form. every curve, dimple and scar. he makes sure to pay your breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and massages the other, pinching and rolling your nipple until your whining. desperately you attempt to rub your pussy against his abs, gaining very little friction from it.
if he wasn't in this rut, he would've taken more time to appreciate this. next time he will.
you open up for him again and he slips in with ease. logan brings your thighs to your chest, folding you in half.
"harder, please." you beg, staring up at him with those wide eyes that he's a sucker for.
"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he grunts, trying to restrain himself.
"i can take it, lo." you tell him, stroking his cheek with your much smaller thumb. "i know you need it right now."
instead of answering with words, logan bends down and kisses you in a more tender way than before. as soon as he picks up his thrusts, you tug softly at his locks, making his hips stir and lose rhythm for a second.
"you like it rough, don't 'ya, princess?" he grunts in your neck while his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit. "fuck, my cum is just spilling out of you."
a tear rolls down your cheek, only further encouraging logan. licking up the salty tear before it falls off your skin. never in your life have you felt so dirty.
"please, need to feel you logan." you whimper and he knows exactly what you mean.
"don't worry, baby. i'm close." he says, feeling you flutter around him.
logan's gaze stays locked on where the two of you are connected, watching him slide in and out of you. almost drooling at the image of his cock in your stomach.
within minutes, you're soaking his cock like you did his fingers. slick landing all over logan's sculpted torso. your fingers gather some before bringing them to his lips, letting him lick them clean.
a loud animalistic growl signals his release, painting your walls again for the second time tonight.
both of you lay stuck together. neither ready to let go of each other just yet. on the floor, you notice something light blue peaking out of the back pocket of his discarded jeans.
"so that's where my panties went?" you giggle, capturing logan's attention.
"yeah..." his voice raspy and deeper than usual. "sorry 'bout that, sweetheart."
"it's okay." you reply. "but next time that you get these 'cravings', come to me and i'll help y–"
logan cuts you off on with the rock of his hips and the wet slosh of your ruined cunt. before you can even moan, he's grabbed your white panties next to you and shoves them in your mouth.
he apologizes profusely because he knows he’s big.
he knows he has to gradually work you up but when he’s fucking you, it never truly prepares you for his size. even after the nth time, the stretch never seizes to amaze you.
his heavy hips unable to mask the weight behind them everytime he thrusts, watching your beautiful, precious face contort in pleasure. the groans that escape him let you know that he’s falling apart. it’s music to your ears while the sound of skin on skin and sticky wet slick is music to his. his warm calloused palm kneading your breasts before moving to your hips, right as he works himself in deeper.
tip kissing your cervix tastefully slow and deep til you felt him in your throat. he’s girthy and incredibly soft spoken, the killer combination that would make you let him do anything he wanted. he’s thanking you for letting him have you like this. panting in true effort while he murmurs profanities about how tight you feel.
the peak hits just as hard, crashing over both of you til you’re clamping down on him. enough for him to sputter in contentment and lose all semblance of himself.
punctuating his grinds with whimpers of your name while he paints you deep and white like it’s your wedding. so much that it leaks around him. his eyes wet with need and desire as he desperately pants, lifting his head to stare at where you connected, watching it gush down your thighs. you think he’s done, you’re bloated with him now but he’s still pulsing, veins throbbing as they continue to rub against your walls.
finally he stills, dropping his head in the crook of your neck, whispering thank you while he sniffles.
was he crying?
you don’t get to rationalize it because he’s apologizing all over again when he resumes rolling his hips into yours, swallowing your cries of overstimulation. pushing down on your lower stomach while he sticks his tongue down your throat and sloppily laps at your lips, leaving your skin wet. his fingers growing more confident by pulling you back into him while he works you. pulling out just to gather everything leaking and rut back into you again.
“gotta keep you full, hah, please? swear it’s the last one.”
summary: A chaotic shift at Cook County, a secluded food storage room, a reckless need for relief, and the fear of getting caught in the back of your minds — all of this leaves Dr. Carter desperate to lose himself in you before anyone opens the door.
a/n: I know I promised a Jack Abbot fanfic first, but this came to me at work and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I promise I'm working on the Abbot fic y'all 😭 I've literally never written smut so hopefully this is decent enough.
I listened to P*rnstar by Nessa Barnett literally the entire time I wrote this if you feel inclined to do the same. Happy reading you filthy animals ;)
wc: 3k
tags/content warnings: quickie, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, plot what plot, smut, semi-public sex, exhibitionism kink (kind of but not really), marking, spit as lube, definitely not food regulations compliant, literally no plot whatsoever, implied established relationship, afab!reader, not even remotely proofread
You had just finished cleaning up your workstation in the kitchen when you decided to stock back up on all of the items you had used that day. It wasn’t often that you needed to bring a cart for a task like this - something that only took a few minutes. This day in particular had been busier than normal, patient after patient, and a large influx of hospital workers who got called in to help with the excess number of patients.
It wasn’t that Cook County Hospital was slow or small by any means, it just had been one of those days that called for extra help. From what you had gathered - mostly from overhearing some of the other kitchen workers - there had been a mass casualty that swarmed the emergency department. Which of course, subsequently, meant more surgeries, lab orders, x-rays, pharmaceutical requests, and just about everything else in between. One of those in betweens’, unfortunately for you, was food. The cafe was separate from the main kitchen, but they quickly decided they were just as shortstaffed as the main kitchen, so extra help was few and far between.
Your usual shift was spent prepping patient food, setting up trays, and delivering to their designated floors. That was how you met John Carter - an ER MS4 set on charming every girl in his wake, until he met you, of course. After that, he had hardly looked at anyone else, his eyes always searching for you wherever he went. In the beginning, after running into you and deciding there was no one else he could possibly be interested in, he was dead set on finding any excuse to be near you. John would raid the dry food storage (which was exactly why they had to put a lock on the door) in the hopes of you going in to stock back up on supplies. Other times, he would request a tray for a patient that didn’t even want food, desperate for you to be the one to deliver it. As if fate knew exactly what it was doing, nine times out of ten you were the one to deliver the food.
A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts, realizing then that you had been absentmindedly staring at a can of pudding on the shelf for far too long. Slight confusion laced itself through your face, brows furrowed, and lips pursed in mild agitation. There wasn’t much time to slack off and everyone else in the kitchen had been far too busy to go across the hall and grab what they needed. This left you to be the one responsible for the task. You walked over to the door, opening it slowly to peer out only to find the devil himself standing outside.
“Johnny? What’re yo-” You were quickly cut off as he rushed inside, pushing you to the back of the room. It wasn’t a very large room, but just spacious enough to store enough supplies for the hospital to use. His hands were on you faster than you could blink, both perched on your hips and gripping tight. He leaned in close, his nose brushing against yours as you noticed his heavy breathing. He was nudging your nose lightly, as if deciding whether or not he wanted to dive in and swallow you whole or acknowledge you first. The latter won.
“Rough day, baby. I need you so bad. Benton’s been on my neck all day, it’s a nightmare down there. Please- I just- I need you.” John was practically whining as he begged for you. His cheeks flushing as he started to grind against you. A soft whimper slipped out before you could stop it, and he groaned at the sound.
“Baby, we’re at work. Someone could walk in.” You knew this wasn’t entirely true, everyone else was busy scurrying around the kitchen trying to keep up with the orders. You’d be an absolute liar if you said the thought of being caught didn’t turn you on though.
“Never stopped you before.” He gave a slight chuckle at this, likely referencing the few times you had hooked up in one of the on-call rooms, and the one time you gave him a blowjob in the bathroom during your break. But this? This was almost riskier somehow. You blushed and gently slapped his arm.
“This is different, John.” Despite your insistence on holding off, the two of you knew deep down that you were just egging him on. Teasing him always made sex a little hotter just from the fact that he had to work for it. His hips pushed against yours again, revealing just how tight his pants were getting. John gave a shaky exhale at the sensation, which only made you that much more turned on. You could feel yourself getting wet as he continued to grind his hips into you. He was driving you crazy and he knew it.
“Oh, fuck it.” You huffed as you crashed your lips into his. John made a sound deep in his throat, relief and excitement radiating off of him as the kiss grew in urgency. You wrapped your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his roughed up hair. With no hesitation on his end, he pushed you up against one of the shelves, cans and bottles shaking from the rough movement. It hurt a little, but the pain had quickly turned into pleasure as you started to tug at his hair. John kept whimpering, though they were slowly turning into groans as you started aggressively pawing at each other. It was like you couldn’t get enough of him, no amount of contact would ease the hunger vibrating through you. A hand once on your hip slithered its way down to the apex of your thighs, reaching under your dress skirt and honing in on your core. Gasping from the sensation, John quickly opened his mouth even wider, swallowing every sound you made.
You both knew time was of the essence, so what usually would have been a much longer leadup had to be cut way down to avoid getting caught. As if he was reading your thoughts, John quickly lifted the skirt of your uniform, the bubblegum pink of it all balling up in his fists. Matching his energy, you cupped the front of his pants, feeling the growing ache between his legs and getting that much more wet because of it. He flinched at the touch, sensitive like a live wire being teased by a puddle.
“Johnny..” You broke apart the kiss, whining at him as you stared right into his eyes. They were dark with emotion, pupils blown wide from the pure lust coursing through his veins.
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He cooed as he started to rub circles on your clit over the dampened spot on your underwear. You moaned into his mouth as you dove back in, lips mashing, and heavy breathing filling the otherwise vacant air. John moved your panties to the side, heated fingers finding themselves directly on your clit, relentless and fast-paced. With shaking hands, you frantically untucked his button-up, not even bothering with removing his white doctor's coat. You broke the kiss, huffing in frustration at his suspenders before mentally saying fuck it and unclipping them from his pants, the elastic causing them to snap upwards from the relief of tension. John hissed slightly at the tension, but continued with his own movements – deciding to remove your panties from the equation entirely by pulling them down.
Every movement, no matter how small, was frantic and heated. The both of you were insatiable, hungry for the other like a predator hunting its prey. Finally getting his pants unzipped, you pulled them down far enough to free his throbbing cock. It didn’t matter how many times you had seen his dick, it always made your mouth water. The heightened sense of need, however, made it that much more enticing. It was clear he felt the same way – his cock was twitching, red and angry, harder than you had ever seen it before, and dripping with pre-cum salaciously.
You reached down and rubbed your hand over your folds, allowing the arousal to coat your hand before spitting on it for good measure. This elicited a deep groan from John as he watched the entire thing. His groan morphed into a moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking him a few times, your thumb grazing over the tip to add his pre-cum to the mix. He hissed at the sensation, grabbing your wrist to stop you from going any further.
“Shit – baby I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” John’s other hand had your skirt bunched against your hip, gripping your waist like a vice. His forehead was resting against yours, hot breath fanning over your kiss swollen lips.
“Yeah?” You licked your lips, tightening your grip around him ever so slightly and watching as his eyes rolled back and fluttered closed. You lifted one of your legs up and hooked it around his thigh while he tried to compose himself.
“That’s it-” John breathed out. He flicked your hand out of the way, taking a hold of himself and bending his knees slightly to line his tip up with your slick entrance. The two of you gasped as he rubbed his cock against your clit, catching on your entrance, your body arching like a knee-jerk reaction. His lips closed the distance, teeth clashing from the sudden impact. Slowly, he pushed in inch by inch – a delicious stretch with high reward. Finally buried to the hilt, you both let out a relieved moan, your head falling back onto the metal shelf behind you.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, John started pounding into you with reckless abandon, the shelf rattling with each thrust. His freehand was now gripping the nape of your neck, the other now hooked under your thigh to hold it in place. He used this grip as leverage to thrust harder, not caring for even a second about the noise you two were making. The small room was filled with sounds of skin on skin, collective moans, and the lewd noises of your arousal.
“Fuck–” John panted, the word drawn out as his desperate and blown-out eyes dropped down to where the two of you met. “Shh, shh, I know,”
Your arm flew out to the side, attempting to grasp on to something - anything - but instead finding cans of food. The sudden movement sent cans and boxes flying, but he didn’t stop driving into you, not even flinching at the noise. If anything, it just made the moment even more heated, each second passing leaving you breathless.
As if on cue, the sound of a cart approaching the door caught your attention. John let go of your neck, his hand now clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, skin prickling from the thought of someone coming in and finding you in such a compromised position. But he still refused to stop, not even while more cans started to roll off the shelf, exploding on impact. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as careless whimpers escaped your throat. John’s fingers dug deep into the meat of your thigh as he drove harder.
“You gotta keep quiet for me, sweetheart.” A broken laugh slipped past his lips as he felt the tight heat of your reaction.
The cart outside the door changed course, no longer heading straight for the room the two of you were filling with the wet, frantic heat of skin meeting skin. You tightened around him, sending his head flying into the crook of your neck. Carter let out a hitched curse into your shoulder before biting down brutally into your skin. A shrill cry left your mouth, swallowed by the sweaty palm pressing against your swollen drool covered lips.
“Shitshitshitshit- Sweetheart I need you to come for me. Please come for me, baby.” John whined into your neck, hissing as he breathed in, trying to hold back his own building release. He let go of your mouth, letting the string of moans and cries fill the air between the two of you. His wide eyes met yours, a layer of sweat building right at his hairline, neck flushed as he kept his thrusts quick and heavy.
“God, John, faster. Fuck- I can’t-” Your entire body was buzzing as you chased your release. The hot band in your abdomen threatening to snap at any moment.
“Yes you can, yes you can,” He nodded against your forehead, “You can take it, baby. Let - fuck - let go for me.”
Your vision started to blur, tears cascading down your cheeks as you felt your climax hit you like a train. You clenched violently around him and let out a fractured sob that stole the breath out of your lungs. As you gasped for air, John’s rhythmic thrusts began to stutter. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back, mouth wide as he let out a gravelly moan and emptied himself into you. His body trembled from the relief as his orgasm crashed over him. You both stayed in place for a few moments, John’s head dropping back down to where your neck and shoulder met, his spend dripping out of you and down your leg.
“John?”
“Yeah?” He answered, voice slightly higher in pitch. His head was rocking from side to side, trying to shake off the adrenaline crashing throughout him.
“I think that definitely made the Top Ten list.” You let out a breathless laugh at the statement. His shoulders shook from laughing, head stilling. After a few seconds, he slowly brought your leg down, skirt falling with it as he eased you into a more comfortable standing position. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you brought him in for a passionate but gentle kiss.
“Thank you, baby.” He whispered against your lips. Your smile stretched from ear to ear, eyes sparkling and content as you gazed into his own.
“I would say anytime, but I’m not sure how often we can get away with this.” John shrugged at this.
“There’s always the on-call room,” He teased, nose brushing against yours as he gripped your waist, “Or the supply closet, or the janitor’s closet, or-”
“Okay, okay, smarty pants,” You smacked his arm lightly, chuckling at his mischievous grin, “Go save lives or whatever it is you do.”
You and John broke apart, rearranging your clothes accordingly as you attempted to look somewhat put together. John was still grinning at you, that look in his eyes that told you he wasn’t going to let up.
“Now you’re just being petty,” He lifted his chin up in defiance.
“Mhm.” You bit your lip. You could feel his come still dripping out of you, dampening your underwear even more than they already had been. The thought of walking around all day with him dripping out with each shift of movement turned you on more than it probably should.
John’s pager went off suddenly, right as he finished reattaching his suspenders.
“Duty calls.” He huffed. John moved towards you abruptly, cupping your cheek as he stole a quick kiss.
“See you tonight?” You called out as he approached the door.
“See you tonight.” He smiled. He stilled as he opened the door and turned around abruptly.
“I almost forgot.” His brows furrowed as he pulled out a small slip of paper covered with a sticky note from his coat pocket. He handed you the slip and started back towards the door, walking backwards as he explained what he had given you, his cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. “It’s a script for Ovral since we didn’t - well, you know. I wrote instructions on how to use it in case you weren’t sure.”
His neck cheeks turned an even darker shade of pink. John spun around, almost colliding with the door, and fumbled with the knob before finally leaving the room altogether. You looked down at the paper in your hands, a small giggle leaving your lips as you noticed a particular detailing sticking out. Because Carter was still a med student, he couldn’t prescribe anything without it being signed off first. Mark Greene’s signature graced the bottom of the paper and your neck began to heat up from light embarrassment. The idea of John asking Dr. Greene to sign off on an emergency contraception script was more than funny - it was fucking hilarious. You could picture it clearly - John nervously messing with the pad of prescription scripts as he awkwardly handed it over to Dr. Greene, cheeks red from embarrassment.
You let out a huff of air as you looked down at the mess you had made during your sexcapade.
“Welp. Guess I need the mop bucket now.” You sighed, rubbing mindlessly at the mark John had given you.
─────────────────────────────────────
John was frantically fixing his hair in the reflective part of the elevator before the doors opened up, revealing the sounds of chaos ensuing in the ED. Taking a deep breath and leaving the sanctuary that was the elevator, he stepped out onto the floor, and made his way back over to the nurses station. A clearing of the throat caught John’s attention, whirling around to find Mark standing right behind him, eyebrow lifted curiously.
“So,” The corner of Mark’s lips lifted slightly, “You get that prescription to your patient, Dr. Carter?”
“Mhm. Yup.” John cleared his throat nervously, flushed cheeks returning with a vengeance. John sped off in a random direction to go find Benton and escape the humiliation from Dr. Greene. Letting a quick laugh out and shaking his head, all Carter could think was how much trouble you were, but fuck if he didn’t love every second of it.
divider credit: @saradika-graphics
ngl, I wrote this while experiencing intense pain because of my chronic illness, so I don't know how good it is. I was slightly delirious and overwhelmingly nauseous. Alas, the show must go on.
Summary: Carter just wants to know he’s making you feel good.
Warnings: p in v sex, cowgirl position, pining, Carter is needy, needy soft sex, a little bit of a praise kink (it’s Carter he needs to be reassured)
Note: Carters need for praise does something to my brain…soooooo enjoy this very short blurb I wrote lol.
“Please tell me it feels good,” mumbled to the sweat soaked skin above your sternum. Carter’s breath wafts hot and humid along your already scorched flesh. “Please tell me you’re feeling as good as I am.”
Right now all you can focus on is the way his cock splits you open. The grind of your hips as you undulate up and down on him with a slow, steady rhythm. The wet slap of skin against skin echoing in chorus with your soft moans and his whiny groans.
Your fingers fist in his locks as his mouth presses sloppy kisses to your breasts, and your throat as your head falls back. Ecstasy wriggling up your spine as his cock pulses deep in your cunt. You swear you feel him behind your navel. The head of his cock stroking deep inside your cunt, pressing against something that has your breath hitching and stars bursting behind eyelids. The slick sounds as you fuck yourself dumb, send throbs through your body from your head to your toes.
“F—fuck,” you mutter, as you lift your hips again slamming down on his lap. His hands vices on the soft fat of them. Bruises blooming beneath his finger tips as they gouge into softness. “Feels good—“ you manage as another thrust and your mind stalls for a moment.
“God,” he rasps as his lips and teeth mark up exposed skin, the pain mingling deliciously with pleasure. “You feel so good, feel so good on my cock.” He whines adjusting himself beneath you. His shaft throbs inside of you, both of you moaning.
You’re so close to breaking, so close to fucking yourself dumb on his cock. Listening to every gasp, moan, lip bitten whimper as you cunt flutters around his cock. Carter’s beside himself, watch you, chestnut eyes blissed out and pussy drunk. Slack jawed as he gazes up at you, skin shining in the low lamplight.
“Wanna make you cum,” he gasps into your shoulder as your hand steadies itself on your headboard. “Never wanna leave this pussy.”
You manage a puff of laughter, the muscles in your thighs straining, so close, fuck a few more thrusts and you’re done for. A tightening in your abdomen, a choked strangled moan leaves you as he shifts again. Feet planting on the mattress pressing back against the headboard. His hips slam up into you with a reckless abandon.
The change of pace sudden and mind numbing. The friction sudden and overwhelming, his cock postponing in and out of you, your noises choked up in your throat as pleasure burns through your body.
“C—Carter,” his name a surprised shriek as your climax hits you. Your head swims as pleasure drowns you, pulls you under, and keeps you writhing as Carter cums with a sudden shout.
You gasp falling against him boneless, your cunt quivering around his softening cock. You both are silent save for oxygen returning breathes.
“Fuck,” you pant, Carter’s quiet. His hands still clutching your hips as he watches you. You start to feel insecure under the scrutiny. You shift about to get off Carter’s grip tightens.
“Carter I—“
“Can you call me John?” He asks a soft sort of question, he avoids your eyes as you consider him now.
It’s an uncomfortable quiet that lingers between you after his request. You sigh leaning down to press a soft kiss against his lips. He returns it with a fervor, tongue stroking the seam of your lips eager to breech them.
“I can do that,” you whisper against his lips he moans as your cunt flutters around his sensitive shaft. “John.”
You can’t help the punch of laughter as his cock jolts inside of you. He smiles, sheepish and shy, before returning to devouring your mouth.
Summary
A long, trembling, uninhibited moan vibrated from the very depths of his chest, his head tossing blindly against the pillows as he took the first full inch.
"Oh god... fuck—it's so—feels so good," he sobbed out, his jaw locking as a violent flush painted his neck and ears. "Y-you're filling me up—ah—"
"Look at you, Seonghwa," you praised, your own heart a hammering thud against your ribcage from how gorgeous he looked being filled, your hand rubbing soothing motions across the soft skin of his waist.
A/N
so i went crazy with this one ...oops
this is for @abbyslev; enjoyyy <3
— ᨳଓ Pairing:
park seonghwa x female!reader
— ᨳଓ Audience:
smut
The soft, warm glow of the bedside lamp did nothing to hide the overwhelming tension forming in the bedroom. It cast long, quiet shadows against the walls, illuminating every flush of heat and nervous tremor racking the frame of the man in front of you.
Stripped bare, Seonghwa looked entirely unraveled against the bedsheets, leaning back on his forearms, his broad chest heaving slightly as he parted his legs slowly.
There was usually such a quiet, poised grace to the way he carried himself in day-to-day life. But tonight, shut away in the privacy of your shared apartment, he looked like a man standing at the edge of the earth, completely at the mercy of the terrifying gravity pulling him toward you.
Seonghwa had been the one to ask for this, the question escaping him in a breathless, midnight whisper that had given flame to a deep, quiet yearning on a random Friday evening. It was a yearning that now had him fully exposed before you, the sheer vulnerability of the position making his knuckles turn white as his fingers desperately gripped the fabric to keep himself anchored.
You crawled slowly between his knees, the radiating heat of his body hitting you like a physical current as your hands found their way to his thighs. Seonghwa shuddered from the touch, a hitched breath escaping his lips as your gaze found his—glassy, fragile, yet desperate dark brown eyes meeting yours.
A single strand of blonde hair, clumped together from the gel slicking it back during the day's activities, hung loosely against his forehead, tickling the long, thick eyebrows that sat in a slight, pleading knit.
He looked at you with an expression so soft, so trusting, yet so aware of his own vulnerability in this position, as if he were silently begging you to anchor him before he lost his mind completely.
“You're okay, baby,” you murmured, voice dropping into a low, soothing purr that made a visible jolt ripple straight through Seonghwa's wide shoulders. “I've got you. You're safe with me, Hwa.”
A soft, thready sigh escaped his parted lips, eyes fluttering slightly at the praise as you slid your hands up the smooth, solid expanse of his inner thighs, trembling from the touch.
“I know,” was all he managed to breathe out, his mind far too focused on the slow, lingering, scalding-hot kisses you were now pressing against the smooth flush of his skin. His thoughts were rapidly growing into absolute mush, completely undone by the weight of being so tenderly adored.
The contrast was devastating; his shoulders broad enough to shield you from the world, yet right now, they were shaking from the sheer weight of his own submission. His glossy, half-lidded eyes tracked your every movement, completely anchored by the quiet authority of you having him like this.
And he looked so beautiful huddled beneath your shadow, his long limbs heavy and loose as he surrendered the entirety of his space to you, letting out shallow and shaky pants, his chest expanding desperately at every touch, every kiss.
Seonghwa barely noticed the cap of lube being opened, his mind already bordering on turning into pure liquid, and just let his body give in to the heat pooling low in his abdomen.
You pressed a scalding, heavy kiss directly to the soft crease where his thigh met his hips, making him let out a loud, high-pitched whimper as his hips gave a sharp, involuntary jerk off the mattress.
“Still okay?” you asked, looking up at Seonghwa through your eyelashes, your damp lips still hovering dangerously close to his fevered skin.
Seonghwa nodded frantically. “Y-yes,” he exhaled, a breathy whimper catching in his throat as his fingers tightened their grip on the fabric beneath him, desperately waiting for the touch he knew would follow the reassurance.
A whimper of objection escaped the man from the loss of your body's welcoming and comforting heat as you came to rest on your knees, pouring a generous amount of lube on your trembling fingers.
Not wanting to keep your attention from him any longer, you looked up, only to be hit by an expression of pure lust so striking it caught the breath right in the back of your throat—Seonghwa’s dark eyes, completely swimming with need, were pinned low, utterly transfixed by the sight of the pink, glittery dildo standing proudly against the harness on your mound.
A heavy, predatory hunger flickered in his gaze as his tongue slowly traced the seam of his lower lip before taking the plush skin between his teeth, nibbling desperately. A crimson flush fiercely stained his cheeks and the shell of his ears, a fine sheen of sweat sparkling across the broad expanse of his chest as it heaved with the slow, agonizing velocity of his breathing.
Beneath your gaze, his half-hard shaft slowly thickened, pulsing heavily as it filled out into the dark, red-flushed ridge of the cock you so thoroughly worshipped. The heavy weight of his length twitched, lifting slightly higher against his lower abdomen from the sudden, involuntary clench of his hole—as if his body were instinctively anticipating the thick, solid girth already stretching him open from the inside out.
The sight in front of you shot an electric jolt straight down your spine, heat coiling in the depths of your stomach from how fucking hot he looked like this—so desperate to be filled. So eager to be good and just take it, fully and unwaveringly submitting the intimacy of his own body and pleasure into your hands.
You took a deep, steadying breath before anchoring your left palm across the curve of his thigh, your other lube-slicked hand finally inching closer to his tight heat.
Seonghwa inhaled sharply at the sudden, cold sensation of your index finger tracing the outer boundaries of his opening, a small whimper erupting as you began rubbing the slick wetness against his skin in a heavy, repetitive motion, slowly forcing his unaccustomed muscles to acclimate to the touch.
But you didn't press inside. Not yet. Not when he was so beautiful this way.
Instead, you added more lube, your slick palm flattening entirely over his puckered hole, pressing inward just enough to mimic the blunt shape of a stretch without actually breaching the barrier.
“Aaah—” Seonghwa violently bucked against the sheets at the heavy friction, a loud, ruined sob catching in his throat as his hips instinctively chased the heavy pressure of your hand.
"P-please," he babbled, his dark eyes rolling back as his fingers clawed desperately into the mattress. "P-please, it's—it's too much, I want it, I need it inside—"
"Shh, not yet, princess," you murmured, leaning forward to press a slow, wet kiss to his trembling thigh. "Be good for a bit longer, yeah?"
You reached down, grabbing the tip of the dildo to simply align the broad, blunt head directly against his opening, dragging the slick silicone up and down the cleft of his cheeks, letting him feel what was waiting for him.
The sheer visual and physical stimulation sent him completely over the edge; his hard cock twitched violently against his lower abdomen, dripping a heavy bead of precum, while his chest heaved in frantic plumes of hot air.
He was completely trapped under your hands, weeping from the absolute agony of the denial, his body melting into pure, pliant mush before you had even given him a single inch.
Seonghwa cried, head shaking frantically while more strands of hair came loose, sticking to the sweat that had formed in a thin layer across his forehead—hips rutting forward into the press of your palm, his leaking cock bouncing with each thrust, spreading the overwhelming proof of his own slick arousal across his stomach.
"S’kay, baby. Shh, I've got you.” You shifted your weight, leaning in close until your foreheads pinned together, frantic breaths mingling in the mere inches between your lips.
With slow, torturously calculated care, you removed the toy for a brief second and replaced it with the tip of your index finger, pressing it directly against the tight ring of muscle.
The first knuckle of your finger entered with a slick, yielding ease—the sheer, overwhelming sensation of the internal fullness was unlike anything Seonghwa had ever experienced in his life, knuckles turning stark white while his body instinctively tried to process the sudden intrusion as you continued to push in slowly.
A loud, unfiltered, and deeply primitive moan was violently dragged from his chest the second your finger was flushed inside—an echoing, trembling sound that rumbled straight through the air and vibrated into your own ribs.
"Look at you, baby," you purred against his wet mouth, your finger curling slightly inside his warmth to press against his sensitive walls. "Taking me so well, my good, sweet boy."
The praise shattered whatever tiny thread of sanity he was still clinging on to, collapsing into the mattress, his head tossing back into the pillows as a heavy wave of pleasure flooded his senses.
“Mmmh,” Seonghwa whined, the smallest drop of tears spilling past his long, wet lashes, desperately falling to trace along his heavily flushed cheeks.
He broke into a quiet sob—not from pain—but from the sheer, blinding intensity of your unwavering attention, so thoroughly making sure he feels good and adored.
And fuck, did he feel good.
You slowly leaned back, breaking the close contact, and the sudden distance made Seonghwa let out a pathetic, panicky whine, his glassy, liquid boba eyes desperately scrambling to lock back onto your face.
But as you shifted your weight away, the movement caused the long shaft of the dildo to slide heavily against his own pulsing length—a broken, high-pitched whimper tearing from his lips as his whole body shuddered, feeling delirious from how it had aggressively grazed against his sensitive and neglected cock.
"So beautiful, Seonghwa. So pretty, just for me," you purred, low and grounding as your hand slid down the fevered skin of his torso before firmly clamping around his waist.
The same, strikingly small and narrow waist that always fit so perfectly within your possessive grip. So soft, so beautiful, and so yours.
“Mine,” you growled, digging your fingers into the soft skin of his hips, placing a wet—and very much needed—kiss right above his hipbone, your tongue darting out to trace the phantom outline of your lips, softly lapping against the skin, earning another deep exhale from Seonghwa.
While you continued the worship of his hips, your hands found the bottle of lube again to pour some more on your fingers before slowly breaching his tight heat with a second one. Breathy exhales along with desperate whimpers slipped from your boyfriend as you continued to work him open with two digits, his walls fluttering around them.
“M-more,” he breathed out, rolling his hips and pushing them towards your fingers, like he needed you deeper. Needed to be fuller.
Seonghwa's eyes instantly flew open, completely blown out as a low, guttural moan tore from his lungs from the stretch of a third finger.
"Ah—f-fuck—full, feel so fucking full, baby," he babbled incoherently, tears fresh on his flushed cheeks as his lower body instinctively tried to arch into the pressure.
But you held him fast, your grip on his waist pinning his hips flat against the mattress as you slowly moved past the first knuckle, not wanting to hurt him.
After some time, you pushed deeper, fingers moving in a deliberate, heavy, curling motion as tiny whimpers continued to fill the quiet hum of the room. Then, your third finger hooked just slightly upward, pressing firmly against the tight, sensitive spot hidden just a few inches inside his core.
“F-fuuuuck.” Seonghwa's entire body violently bucked, a loud moan ripping from his throat.
A violent spasm rippled straight through his pelvis, his leaked cock pulsing out another heavy bead of precum as his walls throbbed in hot, crushing waves around your hand.
"Please," he suddenly wept, his hips blindly rutting back against your hand in a desperate, friction-seeking rhythm to find his prostate again. "Please, fuck, I need it—I need the toy, please stretch me out, I want you inside me—please—”
Finally obeying his pleads, you slowly withdrew your fingers only to earn an empty whine from Seonghwa at the sudden loss of fullness, hips instinctively twitching upward as if to follow your hand.
"I've got you, baby. You're getting exactly what you want," you reassured, your voice a dark, grounding promise that made his chest heave.
You shifted your weight, lining up the broad, slick head of the pink dildo directly against his stretched rim. Seonghwa let out a deep, shuddering exhale at the promise of being filled again while you held his waist, the other one a firm grip on the shaft of the dildo.
A choked gasp tore from his lungs the second the thick, slick head of the silicone cock breached the tightness of his hole, his eyes wide, completely glassy, and blown-out.
The girth of the dildo wasn't the biggest out there, and the heavy coating of lube and the thorough work of your fingers enabled the toy to slide in with an almost slick, perfect glide—filling him so deeply that his brain completely short-circuited.
A long, trembling, uninhibited moan vibrated from the very depths of his chest, his head tossing blindly against the pillows as he took the first full inch.
"Oh god... fuck—it's so—feels so good," he sobbed out, his jaw locking as a violent flush painted his neck and ears. "Y-you're filling me up—ah—"
"Look at you, Seonghwa," you praised, your own heart a hammering thud against your ribcage from how gorgeous he looked being filled, your hand rubbing soothing motions across the soft skin of his waist.
You pushed a little deeper, your pace slow and unhurried, letting him feel every single millimeter of the stretch. "Such a good boy. So perfect for me. Taking my cock so well."
Seonghwa shuddered from the obscenity of your words, legs trembling violently as he spread even wider for you, body melting into pure, pliant submission under the weight of being so intensely adored.
You leaned down slightly, breaking the distance just enough to press a soft, grounding kiss against his lips, capturing his ruined whimpers right out of his mouth.
With your hands now both tightly gripping his tiny waist, you began to fuck him in earnest—slow, deep, thrusts that chased rhythmically for his prostate with every single forward push.
Your right hand found its way to his achingly neglected cock, already smeared in his own arousal as you began stroking his length in rhythm with your thrusts, the added pleasure along with being filled to the brim making him completely delirious.
Seonghwa's hips blindly rutted back against your rhythm, mumbled whimpers and stretched out whines forming deep in his throat, unable to think about anything other than how fucking good it felt. How completely and willingly ruined he was, desperate for every inch of fullness like he needed it in order to breathe.
With your hand still anchored firmly around his waist, you picked up the pace just a fraction, shifting the angle to press harder against his sweet spot.
The reaction was instantaneous.
Seonghwa’s entire body spasmed beneath you, a loud, guttural moan breaking from his throat as his head thumped against the sheets.
The deep, blunt friction against his prostate sent a blinding jolt straight to his core, his walls fluttering desperately while clamping down around the toy, not wanting the feeling to go away.
"F-fuck—ah! Too good, it's too—nnnghh—" he sobbed out, his voice wrecked from the complete loss of reality as the pleasure engulfed him.
"You're taking it so perfectly, baby," you purred, leaning down to press your lips against the burning flush of his neck, breath hot against his damp skin. "Look at how ruined you are for me. Such a good boy, taking all of it."
A heavy sob tore from his chest at the praise, his dark, glassy eyes rolling back as he reacted to every word. Every praise. His hips instinctively rolled upward, blindly rutting back into the grip of your hand around his cock and then back onto the dildo.
You didn't let up. You drove into him again, a deep, thorough thrust that bottomed out completely, burying the toy to the absolute base. Seonghwa let out a long, thready whine that trembled into the space between your chests, his fingers clawing frantically at the mattress as he floated helplessly in the heavy, intoxicating feeling of being so full, so taken care of.
"You're so close, aren't you, baby?" you murmured, shifting your weight one last time, your hand locking onto his narrow hips with a fierce, possessive grip as the other continued the frantic strokes. "Look at me, Seonghwa. Let it go for me. Come on, baby, show me how good you can be."
His eyes fluttered open, dark and completely swimming with lust as he looked up at you through his messy, sweat-soaked bangs. The sight of your face, combined with the heavy, low purr of your voice, completely shattered his last line of defense.
You delivered three rapid, heavy thrusts, the broad head of the silicone hitting directly against his prostate with devastating accuracy.
Seonghwa’s jaw flew open in a silent, breathless gasp as his entire frame went completely rigid. A high, ruined sob tore from his throat as he came—cock twitching violently as it spurted thick, white ropes of cum across his chest.
You slowly slowed your rhythm, letting the toy rest deeply inside his trembling warmth to keep him anchored as the aftershocks faded. Leaning down, you pinned your foreheads together at last, pressing soft, lingering, salt-tinged kisses to his wet cheeks, his eyelids, and the corner of his lips.
“Did so good for me, baby. Such a good boy,” you purred as Seonghwa lay completely pliant, his mind floating safely in the quiet haze of the bedroom—entirely loved, entirely handled, and completely yours.
𝐚/𝐧: HI EVERYONEEEE, i’ve been absent because of the end of the school year stress 💔 BUTT i’m back for the summer so expect consistent posting!! These messages are a bit cringy lowkey but this is in honor orf Yeosangs birthday being this week!! i hope all of you enjoy!! (Hongjoong is next i promise.) & lmk if you wanna be in my ateez taglist!!
summary: she was a one night stand until he saved her life now they’re bound for eternity
warning: dom yunho, sub reader, oral, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, spitting, choking, squirting, breeding, creampie, mentions of death
genre: dark romance, supernatural, smut
pairing: prince of hell yunho x afab human reader
word count: 6.1k
chp 2
masterlist
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The apartment door practically slammed open. The hinges creaking loudly in the old exterior as rain poured outside and thunderous booms echoed as flashes of lightning decorated the sky. It was as if mother nature herself was lashing out at what was happening.
“Fuck…” His lips moved to her neck as tossed his jacket off and lifted her, pinning her to the wall. “I need to taste you.” Normally, Yunho wouldn’t beg. Being a 400 year old demon prince, he’s used to getting what he wanted but something about her…. he’d drop to his knees if he had to. “No one is stopping you.” She smirked and a deep, primal growl rumbled from Yunho’s chest the second those words left her lips and his grip on her thighs tightened, fingers digging into her thighs as he pulled her harder against him. “Where’s your bedroom?” he demanded, voice low and rough like gravel dragged over silk.
“Down the hall… across from the bathroom,” she breathed, barely finishing before he was already moving. He carried her like she weighed nothing, long strides eating up the distance while she stayed pressed to his chest and her legs locked around his waist. The door to her bedroom swung open with a kick and he dropped her onto the mattress and started following her down immediately to claim her mouth again in a bruising kiss as his hands worked fast but deliberately to yank the ripped jean shorts down her legs and tossing them aside before he peeled the black tank top she had on upward, exposing smooth skin inch by inch. The bra came next, unclasped with a flick of his fingers, not that she could see that, and dragged it down her arms.
Yunho didn’t rush the reveal. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing the swell of each one before his tongue dragged slow, wet circles around her nipples. He sucked one between his lips, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch, then switched to the other, nipping and leaving faint red marks that would darken later as his hands slid under her, lifting her body higher up the bed until her head rested against the pillows. “Ride me,” he growled, the command vibrating through the air between them and in one swift motion he hooked his fingers into her panties and stripped them off before dragging her forward until her thighs straddled his face.
He held her there with an iron grip on her hips, mouth opening wide to devour her pussy. His tongue thrust deep inside her without warning, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds while he growled against her. “Fuck, this pussy… best I’ve ever tasted,” he rasped between licks, the words carrying centuries of experience she couldn’t possibly understand. He sucked her clit, tongue flicking rapidly until her thighs shook and she came hard on his face but Yunho didn’t let her lift off. He kept her pinned, licking every drop clean with long, slow strokes until she whimpered from oversensitivity. Only then did he release her, pulling her down his body while his mouth trailed kisses across her stomach and sides.
He sat up just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, then shoved his pants and underwear down, kicking his shoes off in the process and let her look. Her eyes dropped immediately to his dick, thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. It twitched under her gaze, veins prominent along the length. She reached for him without thinking, sliding off the bed to kneel between his legs, reaching and wrapping her hand around the base, stroking upward in a slow glide before her tongue followed the same path, licking from balls to tip with deliberate patience.
She barely had time to open her mouth before Yunho’s hand caught her jaw. “Open,” he ordered and she obeyed, watching as he leaned down and spat directly onto her tongue and watching her swallow the offering before he released her and she dove back in, lips stretching around his dick as she took him deeper, pulling off only to drag her tongue over his balls, sucking one gently before returning to fuck her own mouth on him. Spit ran down her chin, the wet sounds filling the room along with his low groans but just as his breathing grew ragged, Yunho pulled her off by the hair.
He dragged her back onto the bed, kissing her hard while his hand slipped between her legs. One finger pushed inside her soaked pussy, curling against her walls. “So fucking wet… all for me.” He pulled his finger free and held it up between them and she leaned in without hesitation, sucking it clean making Yunho’s grin sharpen. “Good girl.” She kissed him again, desperate now. “I need you inside me.” Another growl tore from his throat before he flipped her onto her stomach, one hand running down the length of her spine before gripping her ass hard enough to leave prints.
His dick slid between her cheeks, dragging slowly, then lower to tease her clit with the head. Then without further warning he thrusted in deep in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt making her cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as her walls stretched around him, clenching tight as Yunho moaned low, hips already rolling. “Fucking made for me,” he hissed, starting slow and deep before gradually increasing the pace. Her begging came soon after, broken pleas, “harder….. please…. faster…” and he gave it to her, pounding into her with bruising force, the bed frame slamming against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
One hand fisted in her hair, yanking her upright against his chest and he held her there, fucking up into her relentlessly while his free hand slid around to rub her clit. The orgasm hit her hard making her shake violently, screaming as she squirted around him. But once again Yunho didn’t stop. He kept driving into her through the aftershocks until a second rushed climax tore through her, leaving her limp and gasping. He eased her down onto the mattress, pulling out only to flip her onto her back, eyes raking over her flushed body, settling on her soaked pussy. His thumb brushed gently over her swollen clit. “Can you still keep going?”
Breathless, she met his gaze. “If you don’t get back inside me and come… you can go to hell.” Yunho’s grin widened, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea how literal that statement was. He spread her thighs wide, tapping his dick against her sensitive clit a few times. “Knock knock,” he teased, voice dripping with heat before he sank back inside her in one long thrust and her legs wrapped around his waist instantly, pulling him deeper.
He moved slower at first, savoring the tight heat of her and the way her walls clenched him, one hand sliding up to wrap around her throat and her own hands followed, gripping his wrist as he began pounding into her again. She squirted again, the wet gush soaking his him and the sheets beneath them making Yunho groan in approval, hips never faltering. “I’m gonna have to have you again… and again… and again… fuck…” He was pussy drunk, completely addicted to the way she clenched around him, to every sound she made. How she begged him to come inside her, voice hoarse and desperate making Yunho tighten his fingers just slightly around her throat. “Yeah? You want me to breed you? Ruin you for anyone else?”
He released her neck and folded her legs back into a deep mating press, folding her nearly in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper, pounding into her with brutal precision and all she could do was whimper his name, overwhelmed and crying from the intensity as her final orgasm crashed through her just as Yunho buried himself to the hilt and came hard, flooding her with him and stayed locked inside her through every pulse, grinding deep until he was empty.
When he finally collapsed beside her, both of them were breathless, bodies slick with sweat as she curled into his chest without thinking and he pulled her closer, already feeling the hunger stir again despite the exhaustion. They were ruined completely, thoroughly and already wanting more.
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Monday arrived wrapped in a deceptively perfect California afternoon. The storm that had rattled Los Angeles for two nights and had vanished without a trace, leaving behind endless blue skies and sunlight that bounced off the glass towers downtown. Traffic crawled below in its usual symphony of impatient horns, helicopters drifting lazily overhead chasing whatever celebrity scandal had become today’s headline, and somewhere down on Sunset Boulevard, people carried on as though the world had never stopped spinning.
From the floor to ceiling windows of a luxury penthouse overlooking the city, Yunho watched it all in silence. He’d owned the apartment for nearly seventy years. Before that, it had belonged to another building entirely. Before that, there had been nothing but empty hills. He’d watched Los Angeles grow upward one decade at a time until the skyline barely resembled the city he’d first wandered into centuries ago.
His fingers rested loosely around a crystal glass filled with whiskey, though he’d barely touched it. The amber liquid caught the afternoon light as he leaned one shoulder against the window, silver hair falling across his forehead. He looked every bit the successful businessman any human would expect to find living in a place like this. Only the faint pulse of infernal magic humming beneath his skin betrayed what he truly was.
His thoughts, much to his irritation, had wandered somewhere else entirely however. A tiny apartment. Rain hammering against old windows. A woman with absolutely no sense of self preservation. He could still hear her voice after she’d told him to go to hell if he didn’t get back inside her and the corner of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. “Ironic,” he muttered beneath his breath. Four hundred years. Thousands of faces. Kings. Queens. Artists. Warriors. Lovers whose names had long since been forgotten by history. Yet somehow… the woman who worked nights at a club in Los Angeles had managed to occupy more of his thoughts in forty eight hours than most people had in decades.
Ridiculous.
He pushed away from the window, draining the rest of the whiskey before setting the glass on the marble counter. He should’ve gone back already. There wasn’t any reason to remain on Earth. Not really…….
a familiar ripple rolled through the room, invisible to any human eye as the air bent inward as though reality itself had exhaled. Yunho didn’t bother turning around. Instead he sighed. “Let me guess…” he said dryly. “Dad thinks I’ve been up here too long again?”
A soft chuckle answered him. “You always know it’s me.”
Yunho finally looked over his shoulder to the demon standing in the middle of the penthouse as though he’d always belonged there. Seonghwa. Unlike Yunho, Seonghwa made no effort to pretend humanity fascinated him. Everything about him carried quiet refinement. His black coat fell perfectly over tailored clothes, not a wrinkle to be found, and his posture remained impossibly straight. There was an ageless elegance to him, the kind earned only after centuries of existing. Six hundred years had sanded away any impulsiveness he might’ve once possessed, leaving behind someone whose calm could make even the oldest demons uncomfortable. He was one of the few beings Lucifer trusted without reservation. Which, in Hell, was saying something.
Yunho folded his arms across his chest. “So?”
“So…” Seonghwa replied with the ghost of a smile, “Lucifer doesn’t particularly care how long you’ve been on Earth.”
“He doesn’t?”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“He does, however, require your assistance.”
“There it is.”
Seonghwa ignored the comment with practiced ease. “There’s a man in Laguna Beach.” Yunho groaned before Seonghwa had even finished. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I literally know what you’re about to say.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“He wants fame.”
“He does.”
“He thinks selling his soul is easier than developing talent.”
“He does.”
Yunho pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate these.” Seonghwa’s lips threatened another smile. “I know.”
“They’re always the same.”
“They usually are.”
“They never ask for something interesting.”
Seonghwa tilted his head slightly. “What would you consider interesting?” Yunho walked toward the kitchen, opening the refrigerator more out of habit than necessity before closing it again. “I don’t know. World peace. The cure for cancer. Maybe someone wants to become the greatest violinist in history.”
“And instead?”
“They want followers.”
“Millions of them.”
“They want money.”
“Lots of it.”
“They want everyone to love them.”
“And nobody ever specifies why.”
Seonghwa gave a single approving nod. “You’ve conducted enough bargains.”
“I’ve conducted too many.” Silence settled between them for a moment before Yunho glanced toward the skyline again. “What’s his name?” Seonghwa reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a small leather bound book. Not paper. Human skin. The pages turned on their own before stopping halfway through and he glanced down briefly. “Ethan Holloway.” Yunho sighed as Seonghwa started reading. “Twenty seven. Aspiring musician. Convinced social media algorithms are personally conspiring against him.” Yunho looked at him flatly. “You’re making that last part up.”
“I wish I were.”
A reluctant laugh escaped Yunho before he shook his head. “And what exactly does his infernal majesty need from me? Surely someone this… uninspired could be handled by a lesser collector.”
“He requested you.”
That made Yunho pause. “He… requested me?”
“He specifically asked for the Prince of Hell.”
Now that was unusual. Humans almost never knew enough to make requests like that. Yunho’s expression sharpened ever so slightly. “Why?” Seonghwa closed the ledger. “Because he believes the Devil’s son grants better bargains. And because the internet has become… surprisingly creative.”
Yunho stared at him. “You’re telling me conspiracy forums have reached Hell.”
“They’ve reached everyone.”
For the first time that afternoon, genuine amusement lit Yunho’s face. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It truly is.”
Yunho slipped on a black jacket draped over the back of a chair, adjusting the cuffs with practiced ease. “Fine.” His keys disappeared into his pocket. “I’ll meet our future celebrity.” Seonghwa gave a single nod before adding, almost casually, “And afterward…”
“Hm?”
“Lucifer would like you to return home.”
Yunho hesitated only briefly before looking toward the glittering city stretched beneath the afternoon sun. Something in his chest resisted the idea. He couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t duty keeping him here. It wasn’t curiosity. At least… that’s what he kept telling himself as his gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the neighborhood where one very ordinary woman would probably be getting ready for another shift at the club in a few hours and frowned. “Yeah,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than Seonghwa. “Afterward.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Lunch with Tiffany was never cheap. That was the first thought that crossed Y/N’s mind as she stepped out onto the rooftop terrace overlooking downtown Los Angeles, one hand shielding her eyes from the bright October sun while the hostess led them toward a table near the glass railing. Six months ago, she’d have talked Tiffany out of it entirely. Today, she’d stopped trying. Tiffany had expensive taste, an appreciation for rooftop restaurants with menus that didn’t list prices until the bill came, and an irritating habit of insisting she was treating whenever Y/N complained.
The city stretched endlessly beyond them, sunlight glinting off skyscrapers that seemed close enough to touch. Down below, traffic crawled through the streets in familiar LA fashion, horns occasionally drifting upward on the warm breeze. It was almost impossible to believe that for two nights rain had flooded the streets and thunder had rattled windows hard enough to wake half the city. Y/N slid into her chair and opened the menu for all of three seconds before immediately closing it again. “Every single time you bring me somewhere like this,” she muttered, setting it back on the table, “I become painfully aware that we do the exact same job and somehow have wildly different bank accounts.”
Tiffany didn’t even bother looking up from across from her as she adjusted the oversized sunglasses resting on top of her red hair. “The difference is I don’t buy coffee every morning.” No. The difference was her daddy was a big time lawyer and gave her money whenever she wanted.
“I buy one coffee.”
“You buy three coffees.”
“They’re emotional support coffees.”
“They’re financial mistakes.”
“They’re necessities.”
“They’re why you’re still living in that shoebox apartment.”
Y/N clicked her tongue. “I liked you better five minutes ago.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Fair.”
The server appeared to take their drink orders before disappearing again, leaving the two women alone beneath the shade of a cream colored umbrella. For a few minutes the conversation stayed comfortably ordinary, bouncing from work gossip to complaints about Saturday night’s crowd at the club. They laughed about one of the bartenders nearly dropping an entire tray of drinks on a bachelor party, rolled their eyes over a regular customer who’d once again insisted he knew the owner and briefly debated whether the new DJ had somehow managed to make every song sound exactly the same.
Then Tiffany’s expression changed. It was subtle. One eyebrow lifted and her smile turned knowing as she folded her hands together on the table and looked directly at Y/N. “So…” Y/N sighed before Tiffany had even finished the word. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I absolutely do.”
Tiffany leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Then answer it.”
“I’m not answering a question you haven’t asked.”
“You’ve been brushing it off for two days.”
Y/N reached for the glass of water the server had just set down, taking a long drink that accomplished absolutely nothing except delaying the inevitable. “I haven’t been brushing anything off.”
“You disappeared Saturday night.”
“I left.”
“You left,” Tiffany repeated slowly, “with the hot blonde.” Y/N stared into her water for another second before finally letting out an exaggerated sigh. “His name was Yunho.” Tiffany blinked once. Then twice. Then pointed a finger across the table like she’d just solved the easiest mystery of her life. “You slut.” Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Oh, please.”
“You fucked him.”
Y/N opened her mouth to deny it but instead she bit down on her bottom lip and the corners of her mouth betrayed her almost immediately, a grin creeping across her face despite every attempt to suppress it making Tiffany’s eyes widen. “Oh.” Y/N looked away toward the skyline, shaking her head to herself. “Oh,” Tiffany repeated, this time with enough realization in her voice to make Y/N laugh quietly under her breath as Tiffany gasped dramatically, one hand flying to her chest. “Oh… he gave you the good dick.”
Y/N nearly choked on her water. “Oh my God,” she hissed between laughs, looking around to make sure nobody nearby had heard. “Would you keep your voice down?”
“I knew it.”
“You knew nothing.”
“I know that smile.”
“There is no smile.”
“There is a massive smile.”
Y/N rubbed a hand over her face, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the amusement away. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re annoying.”
“I’m still right.”
Y/N let out another sigh, this one quieter, before resting her elbows on the table. “It wasn’t supposed to be… memorable.”
“But?”
“But…” A small laugh escaped her. “He was…” She searched for the word. “Different.” Tiffany didn’t interrupt this time. “He actually listened when I talked. Like… genuinely listened. Didn’t spend the whole night trying to impress me. Didn’t brag about himself. Didn’t act like buying me a drink meant I owed him something.” She absentmindedly traced the condensation on her water glass with her fingertip. “We just… talked.”
“And then?”
“And then we went back to my place.”
Tiffany nodded knowingly. “And?”
Y/N shook her head with a quiet groan. “And now I can’t stop comparing him to every other guy I’ve ever slept with, which is incredibly inconvenient.” A laugh burst out of Tiffany before she reached across the table and patted Y/N’s hand. “Honey…”
“What?”
“I don’t think your problem is that the sex was good.”
Y/N frowned.
“I think your problem is that you actually liked him.”
Y/N immediately scoffed. “No.”
“No?”
“It was one night.”
“But?”
“There isn’t a but.”
Tiffany simply gave her a look and Y/N held it for exactly three seconds before looking away toward the skyline again. “He is probably the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she admitted under her breath and hesitating a moment before admitting. “And definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” Tiffany leaned back in her chair wearing the most self satisfied grin imaginable. “I knew it.”
“I hate that you knew it.”
“No,” Tiffany said with a laugh as their lunch finally arrived, setting steaming plates between them. “You hate that some ridiculously gorgeous stranger walked into your life for one night… and somehow ruined every man who comes after him.”
Y/N reached for a fry, pointing it accusingly across the table. “I am never telling you anything again.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The black charger purred to a stop, the engine falling quiet beneath the distant chorus of traffic and the occasional impatient blare of a horn. Yunho stepped out a second later, shutting the driver’s door with a soft click before adjusting the cuff of his black jacket. The afternoon sun hung high overhead, warming the sidewalks just enough to erase any lingering memories of the storm. His day had been, thankfully, uneventful. As expected. Ethan Holloway had proven to be every bit the cliché Seonghwa had promised.
The aspiring musician had answered the knock on his apartment door with bloodshot eyes, two days’ worth of stubble, and the unmistakable scent of desperation clinging to him stronger than cheap whiskey ever could. Yunho hadn’t even bothered pretending to be human for long. One moment he’d been standing in the cramped Laguna Beach apartment. The next… his body dissolved into a swirling cloud of black smoke that rolled across the living room floor like ink spilled into water before reforming directly behind the stunned man again. The glamour had slipped just enough. The polished black horns curling from either side of his head, eyes black. A smile that was just a little too sharp. Humans always believed in the impossible right before they signed their souls away.
The contract had appeared between his fingers with a flick of his wrist and Ethan had barely read a single sentence. “You’ll make me famous?”
“I will.”
“Worldwide?”
“If that’s what you desire.”
“And all I have to do is sign?”
Yunho had smiled. “Everyone always asks that question after they’ve already decided.” The pen touched the paper and infernal ink spread across the page. The bargain sealed itself with a pulse of crimson light before vanishing into black embers. Another soul accounted for. Another lifetime traded for a dream. Yunho had offered a polite nod, dissolved once more into smoke, and reappeared beside his car overlooking downtown Los Angeles before Ethan had even realized he’d forgotten to ask what happened when his time eventually ran out.
People rarely cared about consequences while they still believed they had decades left to worry about them. Now he intended to reward himself. He glanced across the street toward the restaurant, a faint smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he slipped his keys into his pocket and stepped away from his car, waiting at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal remained stubbornly red. Then… he felt it. Not heard. Not saw. Felt. Ancient magic brushing against his senses like the first cold breeze before a winter storm.
Yunho’s smile faded as he slowly turned his head and saw standing perfectly still on the sidewalk directly outside the restaurant was a woman dressed in robes darker than midnight itself. No human acknowledged her existence. People walked around her without realizing they were doing it. A businessman passed so close his shoulder should’ve collided with hers, yet somehow drifted harmlessly aside at the last possible second as though reality itself refused to allow contact. Her hands rested calmly before her. Her hood was lowered with dark hair framing a face that looked neither young nor old. At her side rested the long obsidian handle of a scythe.
A Reaper.
Yunho exhaled through his nose. “Well.” The Reaper’s eyes shifted toward him with no surprise in them. Only recognition as Yunho shoved both hands into the pockets of his coat before glancing toward the restaurant, then back at her, a snort escaping him. “Please tell me this place isn’t going to burn down.” The Reaper remained silent. “At least not until I get my order,” he continued with a dramatic sigh. “They have my favorite fries here.”
The reaper remained silent until, almost imperceptibly, one corner of her mouth twitched. Not quite a smile but more…. the acknowledgment of a joke she’d heard from him a hundred times before. “You always make light of it.”
“I’ve had four centuries to work on my material.”
“And it hasn’t improved.”
“Ouch.” The pedestrian light changed and people urged into the crosswalk around them. Neither immortal moved as Yunho tilted his head slightly. “So…”
“So.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re standing outside a restaurant in the middle of the afternoon.”
“I am.”
“Which means somebody inside has an appointment.”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
She nodded once and Yunho sighed again, this time with genuine disappointment. “Damn.” His stomach chose that exact moment to remind him why he’d stopped in the first place and he looked longingly toward the restaurant. “Any chance I can still grab the fries first?”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
“It’s my profession.”
“I thought your profession was escorting souls.”
“I can do both.”
Yunho clicked his tongue. “I liked you better three hundred years ago.”
“You’ve never liked me.”
“I tolerated you more enthusiastically.”
For the first time, something resembling amusement flickered across the reaper’s otherwise unreadable face before it vanished almost immediately and her gaze drifted toward the restaurant entrance. Yunho followed it, though from where he stood all he could see was the steady stream of patrons coming and going beneath the awning. Then the first tremor. It was so slight that most people mistook it for a passing truck but Yunho didn’t.
The vibration rolled beneath his polished shoes like something enormous had shifted beneath the earth itself. The pavement quivered once, barely enough to ripple the puddle collected near the curb after the storm, before settling again into uneasy stillness as his head lifted. But the reaper didn’t move. She simply watched the restaurant with the same unreadable expression she’d worn since he’d arrived. “That wasn’t normal,” Yunho murmured.
“It has begun.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Three floors above the street, Y/N and Tiffany had just stepped away from their table. Lunch was over, the bill reluctantly paid after Y/N spent a solid minute complaining about the price of fries that somehow cost eighteen dollars. “I’m telling you,” she muttered as they crossed the rooftop patio toward the stairwell. “If somebody serves me ketchup in a porcelain bowl one more time, I’m starting a riot.” Tiffany laughed, nudging her shoulder. “You still ate all the fries.”
“They were really good.”
“They always are.”
Y/N pulled open the heavy stairwell door, the cool concrete replacing the warmth of the rooftop as they began making their way down. They’d barely reached the first landing when the second tremor hit and the entire stairwell lurched sideways with a deafening groan of twisting steel. “What the….” The lights flickered violently and concrete dust rained from the ceiling as a deep, thunderous rumble rolled through the building, growing louder by the second.
The handrail shook beneath Y/N’s grip then everything began moving. The floor. The walls. The stairs. The entire building swayed with terrifying force as people screamed. “It’s an earthquake!” someone yelled somewhere below and Y/N’s eyes widened. “Tiff!”
“I’m here!”
She grabbed Tiffany’s wrist without thinking. “We have to get out. Now!” The two women stumbled down the stairs together as the building bucked beneath them. Every step became a fight for balance. Somewhere above them, glass exploded and the sound echoed through the stairwell as a woman cried and someone else shouted for their child.
The shaking only intensified as they burst through the second floor exit into the restaurant below and into complete chaos. Tables overturned. Wine bottles shattered across the floor. Ceiling lights swung wildly overhead as people shoved toward every visible exit, trampling chairs beneath their feet in blind panic. “This way!” Y/N shouted over the noise, still pulling Tiffany behind her as another violent jolt ripped through the structure making a support beam overhead crack with a sound like a gunshot.
The floor dipped beneath their feet as a section of reinforcement steel tore free from the ceiling, driven downward with horrifying force. Y/N barely registered the movement. One second Tiffany was beside her. The next….. the beam crashed between them and the impact threw Y/N backward as splintered wood and concrete erupted through the dining room. “Tiffany!” Her voice caught in her throat because the steel had struck Tiffany before either of them could react.
For one impossible, frozen heartbeat, neither woman moved. Y/N simply stared as her mind refused to understand what her eyes were seeing. “Tiff…” Another explosion of cracking concrete ripped through the floor beneath her feet and the building groaned. The sound finally snapped her back to herself. “No…” The section of floor beneath Tiffany began collapsing inward and Y/N stumbled forward. “Tiffany!”
Another violent shake sent a rain of glass cascading from every remaining window as the room tilted and the floor split open. Survival took over and Y/N stumbled backward just as the ground where she’d been standing disappeared into darkness. She turned and ran. Not because she wanted to. But because there was nothing else she could do. She reached the massive floor to ceiling windows overlooking the street below, desperately searching for any way out.
The city had become complete pandemonium. Cars sat at impossible angles. Traffic lights swung overhead. People flooded the sidewalks. The pavement rippled beneath the city as skyscrapers swayed against the skyline and windows burst outward. People poured from surrounding buildings as Yunho’s gaze shot upward back to the restaurant. The glass facade reflected the chaos until…..
Y/N.
His stomach dropped. “No.” Beside him, the Reaper finally spoke, voice remaining calm despite the world collapsing around them. “Should a demon preserve that which fate has harvested… the savior shall forever carry the burden of the saved.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “I know.” The words came out through clenched teeth. He knew every syllable. Every consequence. He knew exactly what would happen as above them, the building gave one final, deafening groan before the entire western side began folding inward and Y/N disappeared behind a wall of collapsing concrete.
Yunho moved. His body dissolved into a violent cloud of black smoke that tore across the street faster than the eye could follow. The glamour shattered. Silver hair whipped around glossy black horns as infernal shadows exploded through the collapsing floors and he reformed inside the dying building. Concrete rained around him and steel screamed as the floor vanished beneath his feet. Then he saw her, stood frozen, trapped between the collapsing wall and the shattered windows, staring at him in complete disbelief. There was no time. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against his chest.
Then everything disappeared into darkness. The building collapsed. Thousands of tons of steel and concrete crashed into themselves in an earth shaking roar, swallowing the restaurant in a cloud of dust that rolled through downtown like a tidal wave as half a block away, black smoke erupted from empty air and Yunho and Y/N stumbled onto the cracked pavement together.
Y/N’s knees nearly gave out as she clutched at the front of his jacket, coughing through the dust, every breath shaking. For several long seconds she couldn’t process what had just happened. The screams. The collapse. Tiffany. Then she looked up. Really looked and he breath caught. “Yunho?” He didn’t answer. His gaze had already lifted beyond her shoulder….
The reaper still stood untouched by dust. Untouched by chaos as she inclined her head once. “The Covenant has witnessed.”
Yunho shut his eyes and his shoulders sagged with the weight of four centuries pressing down all at once. “Fuck.” Dust rolled through the ruined street in suffocating waves, swallowing the afternoon sunlight until everything looked washed in gray. Sirens had already begun somewhere in the distance, their cries growing louder with every passing second, while the screams of survivors echoed from every direction and Y/N still clutched the front of Yunho’s jacket with trembling fingers. “Yunho?” His attention remained fixed on the reaper. The Covenant had witnessed. Four hundred years. Four hundred years of never once crossing the line. Gone. Just like that.
A sharp hiss escaped Y/N. “Ow…” She released his jacket, grabbing at her left wrist as a searing heat exploded beneath her skin. It wasn’t the sting of a cut or the ache of a bruise. It was deeper. Like molten metal had been poured directly into her veins. “What the fuck…”
Yunho’s head snapped down. “No…” The word barely left his lips before he felt it too. Not pain. Recognition. The inside of his own wrist ignited with the same infernal heat as Y/N cried out, staring in disbelief as impossibly thin black lines began spreading beneath her skin. They branched outward like living ink, twisting and weaving together with unsettling precision. But the lines didn’t stop. They curved. Folded. Connected. Until an elegant symbol slowly revealed itself.
A single black horn.
Its shape unmistakably echoed the royal horns now curling from either side of Yunho’s head. It sat over the pulse of her wrist as though it had always belonged there. “No…” Yunho whispered again as his own wrist burned brighter. He looked down just in time to watch another design emerge beneath his own skin. Not a horn. A feather. Long. Elegant. Its delicate barbs etched in the same flowing black lines that formed Y/N’s mark.
Human.
Demon.
The symbols stared back at one another from opposite wrists like two halves of the same ancient promise. Then came the runes. They spiraled outward around each mark in perfect circles, ancient infernal script carving itself into flesh with molten golden light as Y/N watched in horror. “What… what language is that?” Yunho couldn’t answer. Because he could read every word. Every single one. By blood preserved… Another rune burned itself into place. By fate denied… More appeared. Two souls… The circle completed itself.
…bound beyond death.
The final rune flared so brightly it forced both of them to shield their eyes and for one blinding heartbeat, the symbols glowed like liquid gold before the infernal script dissolved. The light vanished beneath their skin, leaving behind only the completed marks, matte black, as though they’d been tattooed there years ago. Silence enveloped them. Even the sounds of the collapsing city seemed impossibly distant as Y/N slowly lowered her wrist, staring first at the strange black horn etched over her pulse… then at Yunho.
Really looking at him for the first time since he’d pulled her from the collapsing building and her eyes traveled upward. Past the silver hair she’d spent two days thinking about. Past the face she’d convinced herself she’d never see again. Until they stopped on the glossy black horns rising from his head and her breathing caught.
She looked from the horns… to the mark on her wrist and back again. “What the hell is going on?”
Yunho didn’t answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the horn branded into her skin, the reality of what he’d done settling over him with crushing finality. The reaper’s form was already beginning to dissolve into drifting ash, her duty complete. And before the last trace of her disappeared, Yunho heard the faint whisper of robes carried on the wind. Then… nothing. Only then did Yunho let out a slow, weary breath as his eyes finally lifted to meet Y/N’s. “The keyword…” he said quietly, a humorless smile touching the corner of his mouth despite everything….
what would yunho pay attention to more — valorant or you?
genre: smut (MDNI)
tags: semi-public sex (mic on), gamer yunho, praise kink, pet names, p in v, cowgirl, unprotected sex, gagging, begging, hair pulling
the loud sounds of the tv filled the area of your living room. you sat on the couch with your earbuds on and book in hands, but the thing is, your boyfriend was still screaming at his game. you were honestly used to the sound, until it came to him almost winning the game. recently it’s been bad, like his competitiveness has raised a-thousand-percent.
he knows his place though, he would apologize if he got too loud or took a break if it was really getting to him. today was different though. groans were coming from his mouth, he would throw his head back in anger, and bite his lip when he got focused.
your feet were tucked under his thighs, you slid them out and rested them on top of his lap instead. with the way yunho was acting, the smut in your book wasn’t helping your situation.
“fuck you!” he shouted at the tv, he glances over to you with a soft smile, “sorry, baby.”
“it’s fine.” you replied as you moved your foot against him. you smirked to yourself, you knew exactly what you were doing.
you watched as yunhos fingers moved fast and pressed the buttons, switching the joystick on the controller. the way his fingers moved so quick and effortlessly was turning you on more and more.
you grazed your foot against his crotch, making him let out a huff of air. his head shot towards you with a scared look, “right now?” he mouthed.
you nodded with a smirk, “you can do it, just keep quiet so they don’t hear you.”
yunho gulped and went back to his game, that’s where his focused needed to be. not your foot rubbing against his clothed cock, the friction that was starting to burn inside needed to be in the back of his head. it was a round of duos, meaning him and his best friend, mingi, needed to win this round to level up. if he failed, he would not be able to live it down.
you slowly rubbed your foot against him again, feeling his cock harden under your foot. you stopped for a second before moving down to the floor. you kneeled in front of him, your knees hitting the edge of the blanket that was falling off the couch.
yunhos eyes glanced down at you, he quickly looked away and cussed under his breath. you slid your hand in his sweatpants and teased with his waistband. you watched as his movements started to become less precise and he fumbled with the buttons.
“dude! what the fuck, lock in!” you heard mingi shout over the headset.
“sorry!” yunho quickly apologized.
you slid his sweatpants down a little, him lifting his hips up for help — his boxers following. yunhos now hardened member sprung out of the claustrophobic clothing. you let a string of salvia fall out of your mouth and down onto his cock. you wrapped your hands around it, slowly stroking him.
his breathing started to get faster and he kept his lips pursed together, making sure to not let a sound out. he looked back down at you — your hungry eyes stared at him through your lashes. he threw his head back before pulling his attention back to his game.
now that his attention wasn’t on you, you wanted it back. you wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it causing him to thrust into your mouth. a gag fell out of you, vibrations filled your mouth that caused yunho to thrust harder.
you moved your head up and down, relaxing your throat so you could take him deeper. tears formed at the corners of your eyes as his cock twitches inside of your mouth.
“fuck.” yunho said with a staggered breath.
you started bobbing fast, sucking your cheeks to add and extra sensation. you felt yunhos cock hit the back of your throat, constant gags coming from you based on how much you were taking.
the sounds of the game finally died down, meaning the round was over.
“fuck, yes!” yunho huffed out as he thrusted into your mouth over again — trying to cover up the sound of pleasure as a celebration.
“mingi, i will be back.” yunho said quickly. he threw his headset off and quickly pressed the icon on the controller to turn the game off.
now his attention was completely on you. on your hair sticking to your forehead, your teary eyes, and your swollen lips. he took a hand full of your hair and slammed you farther around his cock. “take me so well. so good.”
you moaned from the sudden actions from your boyfriend, ones you knew too well. his hands gripped your hair tighter, you went deeper. you felt him twitch in his mouth and he thrusted harder. “ fuck, ‘m gonna cum from your perfect mouth.”
you nodded, giving yunho the go ahead. he shoved his cock down your throat as he came, a ragged groan falling from his mouth, and his grip loosening from your hair. you felt the sudden warmth fall down your throat. you let yourself swallow once you were able to. yunho pulled himself out of your mouth and you stuck your tongue out showing what you did.
“that’s my good girl.” he said with a low rasp in his voice.
you rose from your spot on the floor and kicked off the pajama shorts you were wearing, your underwear following. “i need you to fuck me, please.” you gave him pleading eyes.
“how could i ever say no to that face.” he smiled as he pulled you onto his lap.
you grinded against his cock, causing both of your bodies to shake. he thrusted forward and rubbed his cock against your clit. yunho grabbed you by the collar of your hoodie and slammed his lips onto yours. you leaned into the kiss, letting the pleasure swallow you alive. you began to move your hips back and forth, letting the friction be created. your breathing started to become heavy the more you moved.
yunho pulled away from the kiss and held your hips in place. “i need you to cum around my cock, not on it my angel.”
you nodded quickly, hovered yourself above him and lining his cock uo with your cunt.
“so perfect. so proud of you, you listen so well.” yunhos voice was slick like honey, it was forcing you insane. you didn’t know how long you were going to last if he kept talking like that.
all of a sudden, he thrusted into you, causing a moan to break from your mouth. “fuck, me, yu, please.” you bit your lip and leaned into the crook of his neck.
“will my angel baby ride me? will she be a good girl and listen?” he whispered into his ear.
you nodded quickly and moved yourself up, and back down. yunhos hot breath covered your neck. his hands were on you waist, gripping you so hard it would leave a bruise later. he helped you gain your rhythm, one you were comfortable with.
you sat up, holding the back of the couch to keep yourself up. you rolled your hips while you moved. with every hit of yunhos cock, you moaned louder and louder — not even caring about the thin apartment walls.
his cock filled you so well, something you never wanted to get rid of. “keep going.” you whimpered.
yunho started to fuck you, his hips thrusting forward into you and your body no longer having the strength to keep yourself up. “so tight around my cock, pussy knows who it belongs to. perfect fit.” he groaned.
you felt a wave of heat flash through you, the anticipated tightness appearing in your abdomen as yunho sped up. “i’m gonna cum, please, please, please. yu, let me cum.” you cried into his shoulder.
“wait for me.” he whispered.
his thrusts started to become sloppy and his hands roamed your body. your moans become louder and you were loosing your breath. it felt like you could no longer even say anything. yunho was thrusting into you so hard and so fast you barley had anytime to think.
“okay, baby, you can cum. been so good for me.” he said.
as soon as you got permission, you let yourself release. your walls tightened around him as you let out a scream-like moan. yunho kissed into your neck to cover the sounds that were falling out of him, sucking and biting to leave a spot.
he let yourself ride out your orgasm until you pulled yourself off and fell back onto the ouch. “tea. please. and show.” you huffed out.
yunho put himself back into his pants and shook his head with a small laugh. he placed his hand on your thigh and rubbed it, “lets get you clean first.”
you groaned but followed him off the couch anyways.
"I'm Lai. I speak for the Fat Black Girls.” @melanated-writersblock - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
