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ruin my makeup - ot9 &team

in which your boyfriend doesn't care how long you spent on your lip combo ♡ requested by @elisa21sstuff—i ended up making it more suggestive more than smutty, hope that's okay with you and you like it!!

yudai

your boyfriend stops dead in his tracks when he walks into your shared bedroom and sees you. you’re standing in front of the mirror, debating between two necklaces to go with your outfit for tonight’s date. he’s taking you to an upscale restaurant and you want to look your best.

you side-eye him but say nothing as he makes his slow way over to you, a smirk on his lips. he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head, making your bodies sway lightly from side to side. “you look beautiful,” he says, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “and all mine.”

idk if u have done this already but could you do &teamies reacting to the reader calling them a good boy ? ^^

the phrase good boy acts as a psychological trigger for yudai, fuma and nicholas, though each man reacts to the praise through a different lens of desire and submission. while the words are the same, the internal collapse they trigger varies from desperate need to quiet surrender.

yudai is the type to fight the effect until he can't anymore. he likely carries himself with a certain level of pride or stoicism, making the moment he is called a good boy a total breaking point. for yudai, the phrase is a tool of domestication.

when he hears it—especially after he has struggled to complete a difficult or degrading task—his composure shatters. he doesn't just accept the praise; he craves it with a hunger that borders on pathetic.

the words strip away his defenses, leaving him panting and eager, his body instinctively leaning into the touch of whoever is praising him. for yudai, being your good boy means he has finally earned the approval he secretly starves for, turning his strength into a tool for your pleasure.

fuma, by contrast, sinks into the role with a fluid, almost instinctive grace. he doesn't fight the submission; he leans into it, finding a profound sense of peace in the relinquishing of control.

when fuma is called a good boy, his eyes glaze over, and his breathing slows, falling into a trance-like state of obedience. it is a reward that validates his utility. he finds erotic satisfation in the power imbalance, the words acting as a leash that pulls him tighter toward his pretty little master.

for fuma, the phrase is a signal that he is performing exactly as expected, and that validation fuels a desperate need to do even more, pushing himself to the limits of endurance just to hear those two words beautifully whispered in his ear again.

nicholas experiences the phrase as a sharp, electric jolt of arousal. where yudai is desperate and fuma is serene, nicholas is reactive.

being called a good boy triggers an immediate, visceral response in his body—a tightening in his chest and a sudden, heavy ache between his legs. he is the most likely to react with a soft moan or a shudder, his body betraying how much the praise affects him.

for nicholas, the phrase is a mark of ownership. it tells him exactly where he stands in the hierarchy, and that clarity is what turns him on. he thrives on the feeling of being "handled", and the verbal confirmation that he is behaving correctly sends him into a state of high-voltage readiness, making him a pliable, eager toy for you.

while yudai, fuma and nicholas react to the phrase with a sense of surrender of ownership, euijoo, yuma and jo process the good boy trigger through a different set of emotional and physical vulnerabilities. for them, the phrase isn't just a reward: it's a catalyst that unlocks specific, hidden facets of their sexuality.

euijoo reacts to being called a good boy with a sudden, overwhelming wave of tenderness that quickly curdles into raw, needy lust. he is the most likely to be emotionally affected by the praise, his eyes welling up or his lip trembling when the words are spoken.

for euijoo, it feels like a warm embrace and a strict command all at once. it makes him feel seen and cherished, which in turn makes him want to be completely used. when he hears those words, his body goes soft and pliable, his inhibitions vanishing instantly.

he becomes an open book, desperate to please you in any way possible, whether that means taking your fingers down his throat or arching his back to offer his ass, all while looking up with wide, pleading eyes, begging for more of that validation.

yuma views the phrase as a challenge and a victory. he has a playful, perhaps slightly bratty streak, and for him, being called a good boy is the ultimate prize after a period of tension or defiance. he doesn't just sink into the praise; he preens under it.

when he finally earns the title, a smug, heat-filled shiver runs down his spine, and his cock throbs violently against his underwear. for yuma, the words are the "click" of a lock falling into place. it transforms his playful energy into a focused, intense desire to serve.

once he's branded a good boy, he becomes obsessively attentive, his movements becoming precise and eager as he tries to maintain that status, pushing himself to be the most efficient and satisfying toy in the room.

jo experiences the phrase as a total mental shutdown. he is often the one who tries to maintain a facade of competence or coolness, but good boy is the kill-switch for his brain. the moment the words hit his ears, his thoughts scramble, leaving him in a state of pure, mindless arousal.

he doesn't think, only feels. the phrase strips him of his autonomy, reducing him to a creature of pure instinct. jo's reaction is the most physical—his breath hitches, his toes curl, and he often finds himself instinctively kneeling or bowing his head without even realising he's doing it.

for jo, being your good boy means he no longer has to carry the weight of decision-making; he's simply an object for your pleasure, and that liberation sends him into a state of shivering, high intensity heat.

for harua, taki and maki, the phrase "good boy" acts as a psychological key, unlocking reactions that range from a fragile, desperate need for approval to a primal, animalistic surrender. while the others might find peace or arousal, these three experience the phrase as a profound shift in their internal power dynamics.

harua reacts to good boy with a fragile, almost heartbreaking intensity. he carries a deep-seated need for external validation, and when those words are spoken, it feels like a lifeline being thrown to him.

his reaction is characterized by a sudden, breathless stillness; he freezes, his heart hammering against his ribs, as if he's afraid that moving might break the spell. for harua, the phrase is an emotional anchor that grounds him in a state of absolute devotion. it transforms his desire into something sacred and desperate.

he doesn't just want to be fucked; he wants to be owned and kept. when he's called a good boy, he becoms an eager, shivering mess, clinging to you and whimpering, his body trembling with the need to prove his worth through total, selfless submission.

taki experiences the phrase as a spark to powder keg. he possesses a high-energy, almost frantic nature, and good boy is the only thing that can truly center him—by completely overwhelming him.

the moment he hears it, his energy shifts from chaotic to focused, laser-beaming all his attention onto you. it triggers a visceral, physical hunger; his pupils dilate, and he begins to pant, his cock leaking as he instinctively seeks you.

for taki, the phrase is a reward that fuels his stamina. it pushes him into a state of hyper-responsiveness where he will do anything—no matter how degrading or exhausting—just to hear the words again. he becomes a whirlwind of activity, sucking, licking, and rubbing himself against his beautiful princess with a manic, desperate eagerness.

maki processes good boy as a total collapse of his ego. he often presents himself with a certain level of confidence or detachment, but the phrase acts like a physical blow that knocks him off his feet. it is the ultimate "off-switch" for his pride.

when he's called a good boy, he doesn't just submit, he dissolves. his muscles go slack, his gaze becomes glazed and vacant, and he sinks into a state of heavy, drugged-like arousal. for maki, the phrase is a permission slip to stop pretending and simply be a toy.

he becomes incredibly passive and receptive, his body opening up instinctively. whether it's his mouth working relentlessly as you ride his face or his ass relaxing to take a thick plug, maki becomes a mindless vessel of pleasure, his only goal being to remain in that state of praised, mindless oblivion.

@spacejip @lyvhie @strawikus @pgwkzworld @nichozzystuffs @andrealvsmakii @kurimurii @guliexe @sh1n3-4h4na @lyrarinn @fraktisify @haerinvd @taelvvrzz @riri4andy @saturnsfae @maytaurus20

&team headcanons cuddle time with their partner

notes: hiii this is my first post!! im looking for luné moots and friends <3 im still working on my profile but my basic info is there. i hope you like this and id love to read your comments and thoughts about it. you can also send a request if you want 🫶

pairing: ot9 x reader

tags/warnings: just fluff, bf!teamies, slightly suggestive at yuma and harua

wc: about 150-200 each member

# K

definitely loves to hug you from behind. he will burrow his face in your hair and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest firmly pressed against your back. will probably talk to you about his day in that position, his voice soft and low against your ear slowly making you sleepy. i feel like he moves a lot during the night tho, so it's not surprising to find him in a messy position in the morning; half of his body hanging off the bed, blanket all tangled up around him and hair sticking in all directions. just the cutest sight ever.

he likes to cuddle and kiss a lot in the morning before getting off the bed. if he wakes up earlier than you, he will end up accidentally waking you up from kissing your face too much.

#andteam #&team x reader #&team imagines #&team reactions #&team fanfiction #&team fluff #k x reader #fuma x reader #ej x reader #nicholas x reader #jo x reader #yuma x reader #taki x reader #harua x reader #maki x reader #kpop scenarios #andteam x reader

【 18+ 】 tw ──── mean dom!k . . slight dubcon, hair pulling, oral (m. rec), name calling, dacryphilia, overstimulation, spitting, face slapping, mandhandling, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, reader was being bitchy & nasty earlier. 3732 wk ✶ don't copy/translate my work. i only write on tumblr.

you’d been trying for hours.

it started with a quiet “i’m sorry” from the kitchen as he walked past you toward the shower. then a softer one when he emerged in gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, scrolling on his phone like you no longer existed. you brought him water. you sat beside him on the couch and rested your hand on his thigh. every attempt was met with cold silence or a flat, emotionless “don’t.”

by midnight the guilt had festered into something heavy and sick in your chest. you hated the way you’d snapped at him earlier—sharp, nasty words spilling out because your own day had been hell. he hadn’t yelled. he’d just shut down completely. and now he was punishing you with that silence.

you couldn’t stand it anymore.

so you ended up on the floor.

one moment you were hovering anxiously near the couch, the next your knees hit the carpet between his spread thighs. the living room was dim, lit only by the floor lamp and the cold blue glow of his phone. your oversized t-shirt had ridden up high on your hips, exposing the bare skin of your thighs and the thin strip of your panties.

“k…” your voice came out small and trembling. you looked up at him through wet lashes. “can we please talk? i know i was a total bitch earlier. i was overwhelmed and i took it out on you. that wasn’t fair. i’m really, really sorry.”

his thumb kept scrolling. he didn’t even glance down.

you swallowed hard and tried again, voice cracking. “i hate when you go quiet like this. it makes me feel like i broke us. please… just look at me. yell at me. anything.”

nothing.

desperation clawed at you. your hands slid up his thighs, thumbs brushing the crease of his hips. you pressed your forehead to his inner thigh, breathing in the warm, clean scent of his skin through the fabric.

“i’ll do anything to make it up to you,” you whispered, lips brushing the cotton. “just tell me what you need. i’ll stay right here. i’ll be quiet. i’ll use my mouth if that’s what you want. please, k.”

still no response.

shame and need twisted hot in your belly. you nuzzled higher, cheek dragging along the growing bulge in his sweatpants. he was already half-hard. the realization made you bold. you mouthed at him through the fabric—slow, wet kisses along his thickening length.

“i’m sorry,” you breathed between kisses. “i was nasty. i said awful things i didn’t mean.” another open-mouthed kiss, leaving a damp spot on the gray cotton. “let me fix it. let me be good for you.”

your fingers hooked into his waistband, tugging it down just enough to free his cock.

his hand moved like lightning.

fingers fisted tight in your hair at the roots and yanked your head back hard. the sharp sting made your eyes water instantly. he held you there, suspended, while his other hand finally set the phone aside.

when his gaze finally dropped to you, it was ice-cold.

“you think sucking my cock is going to fix the way you spoke to me?” his voice was low, flat, dangerous. “after you told me to fuck off and that i didn’t understand shit about you?”

you tried to shake your head, but the grip on your hair kept you still. “no—i didn’t mean it, i was just—”

“save it.” he cut you off sharply. without warning, his other hand cracked across your face in a stinging slap. the impact made your cheek burn and your head spin. before you could recover, he slapped the other cheek, lighter but just as humiliating.

he leaned in, gripping your jaw hard. “you don’t get to decide how you apologize anymore.”

in one fluid motion he hauled you up and threw you face-down over his lap. your stomach pressed against his strong thighs, t-shirt bunched around your waist, ass up and completely exposed. one large hand pinned you between the shoulder blades, smashing your face into the couch cushion. the other rested heavy on the back of your thigh.

“stay still.”

you heard the soft click of his phone unlocking again. he started scrolling with one hand while keeping you trapped like a disobedient pet.

the first slap landed without warning—his palm cracking hard against your pussy through your soaked panties. the wet smack echoed. you jolted violently, a broken cry tearing from your throat.

he didn’t pause. another sharp slap. then another. slow. methodical. each one made your clit throb and fresh slick drip down your thighs.

“you tried to fix it your way,” he said calmly, eyes still on his screen. “now you take it mine.”

he hooked two fingers into your panties and ripped them down to your knees. cool air hit your bare, dripping cunt. the next slap landed directly on your swollen, exposed folds—loud, stinging, filthy. you cried out, hips twitching.

“fuck—k, please—”

“quiet.” another sharp slap.“you were so nasty earlier,” he said conversationally, eyes still on his screen. “running that mouth like you forgot who you belong to.” another sharp slap made you cry out. “now look at you. thrown over my lap with your cunt dripping all over my sweats. pathetic.”

he kept spanking your pussy with measured, cruel slaps, occasionally pausing to drag his fingers through your mess and spread it obscenely. by the time he set the phone down, you were already shaking.

he fisted your hair and yanked your head back, arching your spine painfully. with his free hand he shoved two fingers past your lips.

“open. suck.”

you obeyed instantly, sucking messily, tears slipping down your cheeks as you tasted yourself. when they were dripping with spit, he pulled them out and slammed them into your cunt in one brutal thrust.

the angle was devastating. he curled them hard, fucking you fast and rough while his thumb ground against your oversensitive clit. your legs kicked uselessly. you couldn’t close them. couldn’t escape.

“you wanted to make it up to me?” his voice was low, almost conversational as he ruined you with his fingers. “this is how. you take what i give you.”

you were already close—too close—from the spanking and the humiliation. your walls fluttered around his fingers. he felt it.

he pulled his fingers out.

a second later his palm cracked against your cunt again—harder than before.

“you get to cum on my terms, though.”

that sentence made you whimper, you sobbed into the couch cushion, thighs shaking, cunt clenching around nothing. k just held you there, one hand still fisted in your hair, the other resting possessively on your ass like he had all night to break you down and rebuild you however he wanted. you were a wreck—crying, drooling, babbling broken apologies into the now damp couch fabric.

his voice dropped, quiet and final.

“we’re not done. not even close.”

k kept you pinned over his lap, your stomach pressed across his strong thighs, ass up and exposed. your upper body was draped forward, cheek resting against the couch cushion, legs dangling uselessly on one side. it was a vulnerable, helpless position—exactly how he wanted you.

he didn’t rush the punishment.

two fingers pushed back into your soaked cunt, fucking you in slow, deep strokes while his other hand rested heavily on your lower back. every time your breathing started to hitch and your walls fluttered around him, he would slow down or pull out completely to deliver several sharp, wet slaps to your swollen pussy. the denial was deliberate and cruel.

by the third edge you were already crying softly into the cushion, thighs shaking.

“please…” you whispered, voice hoarse. “k, m’ sorry—i can’t take much more—”

he ignored the plea. instead, he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to your mouth.

“open.”

you turned your head obediently and sucked them in, cleaning your own slick off his skin while fresh tears slipped down your cheeks. he let you suck for a long moment, then pushed them deeper until you gagged softly around them.

when he finally pulled them free, they were shiny with spit.

he shifted his hips slightly and used the hand that had been on your back to fist your hair. he didn’t lift you off his lap. he simply guided your upper body down, and your head to the side; turning you just enough so your face was level with his cock. it was already out—thick, flushed, and leaking from how long he’d been toying with you.

because of the way you were now draped, his cock was barley inches away. he didn’t need to move you much.

he fed the head past your lips, then pushed your head down until you took as much of him as the awkward angle would allow.

“go on. since you were so eager to have my cock in your mouth.”

“suck it, slut.”

before you could even properly adjust to take his length into your mouth—he shoved your mouth down onto his cock whilst he simultaneously drove his fingers into you with renewed purpose—hard, fast, ruthless.

your nose pressed against his abs while as he thrusted up—your upper half staying trapped over his lap.

every thrust of his fingers made your body jerk forward, forcing you to take him deeper. drool ran down his length and soaked into the fabric of his sweatpants. you couldn’t move much—his hand in your hair controlled the pace, and the hand between your legs kept you exactly where he wanted you.

he edged you again like that.

every time you got close, he would either slow his fingers to a torturous grind or pull them out to slap your pussy until you were sobbing around his cock. the vibrations from your cries only made him throb in your mouth. he used your hair to fuck your face in shallow thrusts while he ruined your cunt with his fingers.

you were completely falling apart.

tears streaked your face. your thighs wouldn’t stop trembling. your apologies had turned into broken, wet babbling around his cock — “m’ sorry, m’ sorry, i’ll be good, please let me cum, i can’t—”—muffled and desperate.

k finally pulled your head up by your hair, letting you gasp for air. his cock slipped from your mouth, shiny with spit. he looked down at you—at your wrecked face, swollen lips, and glassy eyes—and something in his expression shifted.

“cute. i think you’ve cried enough.” a dark smirk. “you can cum now.”

he pushed your head back down onto his cock, forcing you to take him again. at the same time, his fingers returned to your cunt—this time with purpose. he fucked you hard and fast, pulling out occasionally to slap at your swollen bud, giving you no room to escape the sensation.

this time he didn’t stop.

the orgasm ripped through you so violently your whole body seized. you screamed around his thick length, walls clamping down as waves of overwhelming pleasure crashed over you, your juices squirting out onto his wrist—thighs trembling and attempting to close around his fingers as he didn’t stop the aggressive pace of his fingers pumping in and out of you.

he kept fucking you through it, then past it, forcing you into overstimulation until your legs kicked helplessly and your sobs turned raw.

only when you were completely limp and shaking did he finally slow his fingers.

he pulled them out, yanking your head off his cock and letting you rest your tear-streaked cheek against his thigh. his hand smoothed down your back in one long, possessive stroke while you trembled.

trembled and sniffled. your cunt was still twitching from the forced orgasm, puffy and oversensitive. he could see how wet you still were, how your thighs kept twitching every time the air hit you.

he gave your ass one last squeeze, then spoke.

“up.”

his voice was low but firm. before you could even try to move on your own, he grabbed you by the hair and hauled you up off his lap. your legs were shaky, barely holding you. he didn’t give you time to steady yourself. he manhandled you forward, bending you over so your upper body was pressed into the cushions and your ass was up, dripping cunt perfectly presented for him.

you heard the rustle of fabric as he pushed his sweatpants down the rest of the way. a second later you felt the thick head of his cock drag through your soaked folds—once, twice—teasing your oversensitive clit on purpose.

you whimpered. “k—i’m still so sensitive—”

“i know.” he slapped your face lightly from the side, then gripped your hip. “that’s the fucking point.”

he didn’t ease in.

with one brutal thrust and he buried himself to the hilt inside you. the stretch was intense after everything he’d already done to you. your walls fluttered and clenched around him involuntarily, still too sensitive from the orgasm he’d forced out of you. a broken, choked sound left your throat. he groaned, gripping your hair tight as he set a punishing rhythm.

“take it,” he growled between deep, savage thrusts. “this is how you make it up to me, how you apologize properly—letting use this tight fucking cunt the way i want.”

he didn’t give you time to adjust. he pulled back and thrust in again—deep, rough, setting a punishing rhythm right from the start. every stroke dragged against your oversensitive walls and made you jolt. your hands couldn’t help but clutch at the fabric of the couch as he fucked you dumb.

“you wanted to make it up to me so badly earlier,” he said between thrusts, voice low and mean. “this is how you do it. you take my cock like a good little slut and you don’t complain about how sensitive you are, got it?”

he punctuated the words with a particularly hard thrust that made you cry out. his hand left your hip and reached underneath you, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles while he kept fucking you.

the overstimulation hit fast.

tears sprang to your eyes again as the pleasure started building too quickly, too intensely. your legs shook. every time his cock dragged against that spot inside you and his fingers worked your clit, it felt like too much.

“k—too much, please, i can’t—”

he yanked your head back by the hair and slapped your cheek again, harder this time. then he spat directly into your open, gasping mouth.

“swallow,” he ordered roughly. you did, whimpering. “yes you can. you’re going to cum on my cock again like a good little slut and you’re going to thank me for it.”

he kept the pace brutal—hips snapping against your ass, the wet sound of skin on skin filling the room. every few thrusts he would slap your pussy lightly from underneath, making you clench around him. the combination of his cock pounding into you and the sharp little slaps had you sobbing into the cushion within minutes.

you came again with a broken cry, walls pulsing hard around his cock. k didn’t stop. he fucked you straight through it, fingers still rubbing your clit, dragging out every aftershock until you were shaking so hard your knees nearly gave out.

when your third orgasm finally tore through you, vision whitening.

but k didn’t slow. he kept your hips locked in his grip, cock buried to the hilt inside your spasming cunt as your third orgasm ripped through you. your walls clenched and fluttered wildly around his thick length, milking him, but he just fucked you harder through it—deep, punishing strokes that dragged against every oversensitive inch of you.

“fuck—k, too much, i can’t—” you sobbed, voice wrecked and broken, trying to twist away even as your body betrayed you, pushing back into him like it still craved more.

he laughed low and cruel, the sound vibrating through his chest as he yanked your hair harder, arching your back further. his hips snapped forward with brutal force, the wet slap of skin on skin obscene in the quiet room.

“you can’t? bullshit. this pussy is still sucking me in like it knows exactly who it belongs to.”

he drove into you relentlessly, one hand sliding down to slap your swollen clit again and again—sharp, stinging little smacks timed with every thrust. your legs shook violently, knees buckling, but he held you up by the hair and hip, using you like a toy.

“no—no no no—stop, i’m gonna—” you cried out, panic and pleasure twisting together as another brutal wave built impossibly fast, your overstimulated cunt clenching painfully tight around him.

“shut the fuck up and take it,” he growled, voice dark and merciless. he slammed into you so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach, grinding against that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. “you can give me another. make it up to me properly, slut. this is what you owe me after running that nasty little mouth earlier.”

you wailed, shaking your head frantically even as your body gave in. “no—please—fuck, i—”

the fourth orgasm crashed over you like a violent storm. your whole body seized, thighs clamping uselessly as your cunt gushed around him. you squirted hard—hot, messy jets soaking his cock, his thighs, and the couch beneath you—your screams muffled into the cushion as the overstimulation turned everything white-hot and unbearable.

k groaned loudly, the sound raw and satisfied. “that’s it—fuck yes, squirt for me. good fucking girl.” he didn’t stop thrusting, fucking you through the violent spasms, drawing out every last drop until you were a twitching, sobbing wreck.

only then did his pace falter. his grip on your hair tightened to the point of pain as he buried himself as deep as possible, hips stuttering. “take it all. every fucking drop,” he snarled, voice thick with release.

with a low, guttural moan, he came hard—thick ropes of cum flooding your ruined cunt, filling you until it leaked out around his cock with every shallow thrust. he stayed buried inside you for a long moment, grinding lazily as he emptied himself completely, marking you from the inside.

finally, he pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as his cum dripped from your puffy, abused pussy down your trembling thighs. he gave your ass one last possessive slap, then hauled your limp body up against his chest, arms wrapping around you in a deceptively gentle hold while you shook and sniffled.

his lips brushed your ear, voice low and final. “think you’ve learned your lesson?”

you only sobbed and gasped and shook in response.

k stayed buried deep for a long moment, grinding lazily as the last pulses of his release filled you. when he finally pulled out, a thick flood of his cum immediately dripped from your ruined, puffy cunt, sliding messily down your trembling thighs and onto the couch.

he admired the sight for a second, dark satisfaction etched across his face, before his voice came low and commanding.

“on your knees.”

your legs were shaking so badly you could barely move, but you obeyed. you slid off the couch and sank to the floor between his spread thighs, knees pressing into the carpet. he sat back comfortably, legs wide, his cock still half-hard and glistening with your combined mess.

he tapped two fingers against your bottom lip. you opened immediately. leaning over you, he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop onto your tongue, watching with hooded eyes as you swallowed it without hesitation.

then he took his messy cock in hand and slapped the heavy length against your flushed cheek once, twice, before dragging the slick head across your pink, swollen lips.

“clean me up.”

you leaned in obediently, taking his spent cock between your lips. you licked and sucked him thoroughly—tongue swirling around the head, tracing every vein, cleaning every trace of your squirt and his cum off his skin.

fresh tears slipped silently down your cheeks as you worked, but you didn’t stop until he was spotless. his hand rested on top of your head the entire time, heavy but not forcing—just holding you in place while he watched with dark, satisfied eyes.

when he was finally content, he fisted your hair and gently pulled you up. he guided you onto his lap, making you straddle one of his thick thighs. your face tucked into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him as his strong arms locked around your back, holding you close.

for a long while, he simply held you like that. one large hand stroked slowly up and down your spine in soothing passes while the other cradled the back of your head. your body was still trembling against him, cunt twitching with aftershocks, soft sniffles muffled into his skin. the room was quiet except for your uneven breathing and the steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

eventually his voice rumbled low against your hair, quiet but warm.

“you did good tonight.”

he kept tracing lazy circles on your back, pressing occasional soft kisses to the top of your head and temple. the sharp, mean edge he’d worn all night was gone, replaced by something steady and protective.

after a few more minutes, he shifted slightly, reaching for the water you’d brought him earlier. he held the glass to your lips, murmuring, “small sips, baby.” you drank obediently, the cool water soothing your raw throat.

he set the glass aside and pulled the oversized t-shirt back down over your hips, then wrapped you tighter in his arms. one hand slipped under the shirt to rub gentle, soothing strokes over your sore ass and lower back, careful not to press too hard on the sensitive skin.

“my good girl,” he whispered against your hair, voice soft now. “i’ve got you. just breathe. let it all settle. you won’t do that again. hm?”

he rocked you gently in his lap, holding you through the last of the tremors until your breathing evened out and your body melted completely into his. every touch was tender now—fingers combing through your hair, lips brushing your forehead, quiet praises murmured against your skin.

“you’re safe. we’re okay.”

“but next time you feel like being a bitch… remember this.”

𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾—𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹. 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈. 𝖻𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗌. 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱. 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ♡

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: happy 1.8k ~ i finally finished this after working on it for like 3 days.. very much enjoyed writing mean dom k n will be doing it again hehe i hope u guys enjoy this !

☾ ⋆➜ Snuggled between Ryland's legs and he's careening his head onto your shoulder, looking down at what you're doing and making small comments, jokes or teases. His hot breath is against the your neck.

☾ ⋆➜ Perched in Holland's lap and he's got his arm wrapped around your waist. He's got a cigarette in his mouth, keeps him from kissing your neck 24/7. Not his fault you take it away from him and dive for a hungry kiss.

☾ ⋆➜ Sitting next to Lars at church and your thighs are kissing from your proximity. His eyes keep looking at your hand in your lap, his fingers twitching. He wants nothing more than to grab, but he's not sure how.

☾ ⋆➜ Sitting in the bed of Colt's truck, looking out at the desert night sky. Your legs are tangled under a thin blanket, all that's really needed as you're curled next to him as he boasts about the stunt he nailed today.

☾ ⋆➜ Straddling Driver in his car after climbing over the middle console. Your back is digging into the steering wheel, his gloved hands under your shirt and pressing into your skin so heatedly, like you're all he needs.

☾ ⋆➜ The neon signs of the city bleed into the slick pavement. K's not holding you, but his presense is solid beside you until he shifts to reach out, catching a raindrop on his fingertip as it trailed down your cheek, fingers trembling.

☾ ⋆➜ Court's body is a tense line of muscles sheilding you from the dangers of the outside world. One hand is braced beside your head while the other is on your hip, a silent, grounding pressure in the suffocating quiet.

☾ ⋆➜ Sitting on a porch swing with Noah as the twilight settles, the humid air thick with the scent of foliage. His arm is draped along the back of the swing, fingers just barely grazing your shoulder, a teasing invitation.

#ryland grace #holland march #lars lindstrom #colt seavers #driver #Officer K #court gentry #noah calhoun #x reader #ryland grace x reader #holland march x reader #lars lindstrom x reader #colt seavers x reader #driver x reader #K x Reader #Court gentry x reader #Noah calhoun x reader #Goslingverse

&Team kinks - Breeding

smut/nsfw

content - &team x Reader, fem reader, p in v, headcanons, unsafe sex, creampies, pregnancy mention (scary), pet names, ownership mentions

masterlist

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ WAKING UP WITH TEAMIES 🧸ྀི

[ extras ] might be suggestive. wc varies 120-180 per member

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes ! based on this teamies vid bc holy shit.

@lune-net ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ @kstrucknet

┆彡 YUDAI [ 祐大 ]

he's a messy sleeper, throwing his limbs all over the bed… including you

9 out of 10 times there's a leg or arm thrown over you, keeping you close to him

which is comforting, in a way. you're like his personal teddy bear that he can't fall asleep without

he's very hard to wake up so more often than not you end up shaking him like a crystal ball

yudai will always try and persuade you to come back to sleep, lazily wrapping an arm around your waist and just grabbing onto you, even if you're already dressed up

in those moments you caress his hair and see his eye lights fight with sleep. on weekends you join him, caving in and curling back into his sleepy figure

when he has schedules, however, you do have to pull out the big guns (tear off the comforter off of him. he's always grumpy and whiny when you do that but knows it's over for him)

All Nighter || 18+

Synopsis: Its like your mouth was made for your professor's dick.

Pairing: professor!Yudai x college student fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex (office), thigh riding, edging, spanking, hair pulling, head pusher K my beloved, gagging (tie), cock riding, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you), lowkey exhibitionism, both are adults, age gap (not too scandalous, just think 8-12 years), me being kinda bad at dirty talk

A/N: lord knows i need this man in me NOWWWW yudai please i can cook i can clean i can do everything please marry me. Also lowkey manifesting I'll pass my prof exams and then i too can be a smexy professor. As always, enjoy, my darlings!

Word Count: 3k (enjoy king K cock)

Cell division.

DNA replication.

Protein synthesis.

Your professor’s hands.