Jul 1, 2025
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season 3 episode 2
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season 3 episode 2
free to use, no credit needed
So your threes a crowd fic was HOT 🤭 thanks for blessing my feed with that lol. Could you do a Dom reader x Thanos one shot???
Behave Baby
Warnings: lil bit of dry jumping, dom!reader, needy!sub!Thanos, unprotected piv, riding, degration (slut and just reader being kinda mean) i think that’s it, not rll proofread
Pairing(s): Afab!reader x Thanos
Inspired by: OMFG I BEEN WANTING A REQUEST LIKE THISSS
It was supposed to be a regular night, just sitting on the couch, watching a movie.
But of course, his horny ass couldn’t just be normal.
It started slow.
His hand on your thigh. Thumb stroking circles like he thought he was being subtle.
But then he started breathing on your neck—hot and needy—and you could feel him.
Hard. Pressed against your ass like he was trying to fuck you through his sweatpants.
You shifted slightly, adjusting your leg, and that alone made him gasp like he was in pain.
Pathetic.
You let it go for a few more minutes. Let him squirm. Let him suffer.
But when he let out a choked little whine and grinded into you without shame?
You muted the TV and turned to face him slowly.
“…Seriously?”
He froze. Caught red-handed with his hand halfway under your shirt and a guilty look on his face.
“I—I didn’t mean to—”
“Shut up.”
His mouth snapped shut.
You tilted your head, watching him. God, he looked ruined already. Eyes wide, pupils blown, lips parted. The outline of his cock was shamelessly visible in his sweatpants, twitching against the fabric. He looked like a dog begging for a treat.
“Do you even realize how fucking needy you are?” you asked, your voice low, calm. Dangerous.
He whimpered.
“I just— I need you so bad,” he whispered. “Please…”
You grabbed him by the jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to make him flinch.
“Then beg for it properly.”
Su-Bong immediately dropped to his knees on the floor in front of you like it was instinct.
“I want you. Please, just—fuck, I can’t take it,” he gasped, already palming himself. “Let me taste you. Let me do anything. I’ll be good.”
You leaned forward slightly on the couch, legs spread just enough for him to see the shift in power fully.
“You’ll be good, huh?”
He nodded frantically. “Yes. I’ll do anything. Just use me, please—”
You grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back until he was looking straight up at you. His lips were trembling.
“If you’re gonna act like a desperate little toy,” you said, voice cold and sharp, “then I’m gonna treat you like one. No cumming unless I say so.”
“Yes—yes, please—anything.”
“Strip.”
He fumbled with his clothes like his hands didn’t work. You watched, arms crossed, while he peeled off his shirt, then his sweats, cock already leaking and flushed deep red. It slapped against his stomach and you actually laughed.
“Pathetic,” you said. “Humping me like a dog, and now you’re dripping just from being told what to do?”
He moaned like it turned him on even more.
You leaned back, spreading your legs wider on the couch.
“Crawl to me.”
He dropped onto his hands and knees, dragging himself between your legs, eyes locked on you like he was starving. When he reached you, he looked up with the most pitiful expression you’d ever seen.
“What do you want, baby?” you asked mockingly.
“You. Your hands. Your thighs. Your—your pussy, your anything—please, let me taste you, please you, anything you want.”
You grabbed his face again, rougher this time, and guided him between your thighs.
“Then earn it. Mouth only. Make me cum, or you’re not touching your dick for the rest of the night.”
“Yes—yes, fuck, thank you—”
And then his mouth was on you.
He started slow, tongue flattening and dragging, savoring it like he didn’t want to miss a single drop. His hands gripped your thighs tight, holding himself in place like he was scared you’d take it away.
But you didn’t make it easy for him.
You tugged his hair, controlled his rhythm, rocked your hips forward until you were smothering him. His moans were filthy, muffled under you, and when you looked down, his eyes were rolling back like he was high off it.
“So good at this,” you purred. “You like being used, don’t you?”
He nodded into you, tongue working faster, more desperate.
“Good boy,” you whispered, just to watch his whole body shudder.
When you finally came, grinding down hard and pulling his face tight against you, he whimpered like it was his orgasm.
You pushed him back by the forehead once you were done, and he sat there, dazed, lips shiny and red, panting like he’d just run a marathon.
“Did I do good?” he asked, voice cracking.
You smirked.
“Get on the couch. On your back.”
He obeyed instantly, laying out across the cushions, cock flushed and leaking like a faucet.
You straddled him, but didn’t let him inside. Just lined yourself up and ground your hips against his cock, rubbing your folds over him, slow and torturous.
He sobbed.
“Please—fuck—I’m gonna cum—”
“No, you’re not.”
You gripped his throat.
“You’ll take it. You’ll lay here and take it until I say you can cum. Understood?”
He nodded, crying now. “Yes—yes, please, anything, I’ll be good—”
You kept grinding. Faster. Harder. Using him like a toy. Watching his face twist with every second of denied pleasure.
His cock twitched violently under you, dangerously close.
“I said hold it.”
“I—I’m trying—fuck—”
You leaned down, lips against his ear.
“If you cum before I say so,” you whispered, “I’m walking out and you’re not getting touched for a week.”
He screamed.
But he held it.
Barely.
By the time you finally let him inside, he was shaking, breath hitching, sweat dripping down his chest.
You didn’t ease him into it.
You rode him hard. Fast. With intent. Like he was nothing more than a cock to sit on. And he loved it. His hands gripped your thighs like lifelines, his mouth open in a silent moan.
“Thank you—thank you—thank you,” he kept chanting like a prayer.
You pressed a hand to his chest and forced him down harder, riding him until he was barely functioning.
Then you stopped. Right at the edge.
His eyes flew open, wild with panic.
“Why’d you—?”
“I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I?”
Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes.
“Please… please, I need it. I’ll do anything. Please, just let me cum.”
You smirked.
“Then beg like you mean it.”
“I—fuck—I’m yours. I’m nothing but yours. I’ll get on my knees every night. I’ll eat you out for hours. I’ll let you use me however you want. I don’t care if I cum or not, just—please, please, please—”
That was enough.
You slammed down on him again, gripping his jaw.
“Cum. Now.”
He screamed, back arching off the couch as he finally, finally came—long and hard, body trembling like he’d been holding it in for days.
You kept riding him through it until he went limp under you, twitching with aftershocks, brain completely gone.
You leaned over him, brushing your fingers through his hair.
“Good boy,” you whispered. “Maybe next time I’ll let you have another round.”
He whimpered.
“…Fuck.”
Authors not: YES YES YESSS I ATE THIS DOWNNN (not to toot my own horn) but hope yall had a great day, request some more so I have a reason to write 😞
Love ya, Moon
Tags! (Comment or request to be added);
@amoristt @loudylena456 @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @inotaku-talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium @d-dilemma @lovestruck-sky
idk what this is and idk how i feel about it i-
Credits: AIB on instagram
namgyu icons
season 3 episode 2
free to use, no credit needed
namgyu icons
season 3 episode 1
free to use, no credit needed
Threes not a crowd.
Word Count: ~4,430 words (got carried away)
Pairing(s): Nam-Gyu x Su-Bong x Reader (Threesome, m/m/f)
Warnings: pretty sure there’s everything you can think of. P with absolutely no plot, not rll proofread, long asf.
Inspired by: this fanart from @benyablinkakaeto so go support them and thank them for the idea!!
You sat in your bedroom, headphones on, letting Spotify shuffle mindlessly through songs you barely recognized. The bass thudded through your ears, drowning out everything—the street noise outside, the buzz of the fridge, and the thoughts clawing their way up from the pit of your stomach.
Even after months, you still tried to smother the memories of that place.
The screams.
The blood.
The ghosts of the people you betrayed just to survive.
In the end, it was only you three left—tattered, broken, but breathing. You made a choice: leave the island, leave the nightmare, and never look back.
Now you lived together in a penthouse downtown—something that looked like it belonged to another version of you. The walls were too clean. The windows too tall. The view too perfect. It never felt like home, but it was the only place you didn’t wake up screaming.
You sighed, dragging yourself up from the floor as you picked through a small pile of clutter. Old hoodie. Empty ramen cup. Su-Bong’s charger.
You frowned. Guess he forgot it again. You turned it over in your fingers before standing. Might as well return it—less chance of him knocking on your door half-asleep at 2AM looking for it.
You padded down the hallway barefoot, headphones still in, half-tuned out from the world. The song shifted into something dark and slow—something that matched the cloudy haze in your chest.
You barely noticed how quiet it was outside your room.
You stopped outside Su-Bong’s door and knocked lightly, expecting the usual shuffle or groggy “come in.” Nothing. You paused, then knocked again, a little louder.
Still nothing.
You pushed the door open slightly, your head peeking in—
And you froze.
Your breath caught hard in your chest, the air stolen from your lungs in an instant.
Su-Bong was lying on the bed, head tossed back against the pillows, purple hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. His cheeks were flushed deep, lips red and parted around the kind of moan that vibrated through your bones. His chest rose and fell in frantic rhythm, muscles tightening with every thrust from the man on top of him.
Nam-Gyu.
Sweat glistened along his spine as he moved—slammed into Su-Bong with an unforgiving rhythm, hips crashing against him, hands gripping his wrists and pinning them to the mattress. His mouth was latched onto Su-Bong’s neck, kissing, biting, devouring.
The sounds were unreal—skin on skin, low curses, broken moans echoing off the walls like a rhythm of their own. Your headphones didn’t stand a chance against that noise. Your body didn’t either.
“F-fuck… Nam-Su…” Su-Bong moaned helplessly, voice rough and high, like the pleasure was short-circuiting every word.
You stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, every nerve in your body going haywire.
The two of them didn’t notice at first—too caught up in each other. Too desperate. Nam-Gyu moved like a man starved, like Su-Bong was the only thing keeping him alive, and he couldn’t get close enough.
Then Su-Bong’s eyes fluttered open.
He saw you.
His breath caught. His whole body jerked. “N-Nam-su—” he gasped.
Nam-Gyu slowed just enough to glance behind him.
And that’s when you moved.
“Shit—I’m so sorry!” you yelped, slapping a hand over your eyes as if that would erase the image now burned into your memory. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—!”
You fumbled back out the door, heart in your throat, the charger still clutched tight in your hand as it swung shut behind you.
You lean on the wall the door, breathing heavily, your headphones now resting on your shoulders, the music you were once listening to play mindlessly.
Your heart was racing. Your skin felt hot, tight, like you’d been pulled out of your own body and dropped into someone else’s fantasy.
You made it back to your room on autopilot.
Your face was on fire, your legs shaky, and your mind—fuck, your mind was a mess. You shut the door behind you like it would block out what you just saw. Like it would erase the sound of their moans from your ears. Like it would take back the ache blooming low in your stomach.
You stood in the middle of your room, chest rising and falling too fast, jaw clenched, still tasting the guilt and arousal mixing on your tongue.
You sat down on the edge of your bed.
Rubbed your hands down your thighs.
Tried to breathe.
Then the door opened.
Your head whipped up.
Nam-Gyu stood there, shirtless, his skin still glowing with sweat. His basketball shorts hung low on his hips, like he’d thrown them on without thinking—no shirt, no socks, no shame. His hair was a wreck, his silky hair sticking to his neck like he’d just rolled through a storm.
Which, to be fair, he kind of had.
His gaze flicked up and down your body. Your flushed face. The way your knees pressed together like you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
“Forgot the charger,” he said casually, walking in like he owned the place.
His voice was rough, still wrecked from earlier.
You stared at him, wide-eyed. “You—you could’ve just grabbed it later—”
“Could’ve,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him. The click of it echoed.
“But you didn’t leave.”
Your throat went dry.
He stepped closer.
“You saw us. Didn’t leave. You came back to your room but…” He tilted his head, licking his lips like he already knew. “You couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you?”
You opened your mouth—but nothing came out.
Nam-Gyu smirked.
He closed the space between you and dropped the charger onto your bed beside you. His thigh brushed yours. His breath was warm on your cheek.
“I don’t mind being watched,” he murmured. “But if you’re gonna stare like that…” He dipped down, lips brushing your ear. “You might as well get involved.”
Your breath hitched.
He leaned back just enough to look at you. “So,” he whispered, voice dark and playful, “you want me to go back to Su-Bong?”
He paused. Tilted his head.
“Or do you want to join?”
Something inside you snapped.
You didn’t even think—you just reached up, fingers curling around the back of his neck and dragging him down into your mouth.
The kiss was hard, messy, desperate. It wasn’t sweet. It was hungry.
Nam-Gyu groaned low in his throat, his hands landing on your thighs. He grinned into your mouth like he’d been waiting for this exact reaction.
“Fuck, I was hoping you’d do that.”
In one swift motion, he yanked you up off the bed—your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist—and he was already walking.
Back down the hall.
Back toward his room.
Your heart pounded, your arms tightening around his neck. You felt every step, the heat radiating off his chest, the hard press of his body under those damn shorts.
He kicked open his bedroom door with ease.
Su-Bong was still on the bed, propped up on one elbow, cheeks flushed, his chest still rising and falling like he hadn’t quite recovered from the first round. His eyes widened when he saw you—wrapped around Nam-Gyu, lips swollen, thighs clinging to his hips.
“Is this…?” Su-Bong asked, voice rough and surprised—but his pupils blown with interest.
Nam-Gyu smirked, walking straight in like it was already decided.
“She wants in,” he said simply, dropping you gently onto the bed beside Su-Bong.
“She earned it.”
You looked between them, heat roaring beneath your skin. Nam-Gyu stood behind you now, hands on your shoulders, thumbs dragging across your collarbones like he was marking you. Su-Bong sat frozen, lips parted like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—but God, he wasn’t about to stop it.
Nam-Gyu’s lips brushed your neck as he murmured, “Still okay?”
You nodded, barely breathing. And he moved.
His hands dragged your shirt up, slow and deliberate, letting his knuckles skim your skin like he wanted to memorize it. He slipped it off over your head, discarding it on the floor before his hands found your waist.
Su-Bong sat beside you, chest still flushed and bare, eyes locked on you with something between awe and disbelief. Like he couldn’t believe this was real. Like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you.
He reached out hesitantly—then stopped. Looked at you for permission.
You nodded.
That was all it took.
His fingers landed on your thigh, warm and trembling, dragging up slowly. “You’re really here,” he whispered, like it still hadn’t hit him. His lips hovered just above your skin.
“I didn’t know if you’d want…”
You cupped his cheek and leaned in, kissing him.
Su-Bong melted.
His hands tightened on your hips, and he kissed you like he’d been holding back for years. Desperate. Shaky. Honest. Nam-Gyu chuckled behind you, his hands trailing up your spine.
“She tastes good, huh?” he murmured.
Su-Bong pulled back just slightly, breathless, eyes flicking between you and Nam-Gyu. “She’s warm,” he whispered. “Soft.”
“She’s not the only one.” Nam-Gyu dropped down beside him, and before you could even register what was happening, he was kissing Su-Bong.
And not just soft or experimental.
It was heated—needy. Nam-Gyu gripped the back of his neck, pulled him in like he couldn’t stand to be apart any longer. Their mouths moved together like they’d done this before—too many times to count. Su-Bong groaned into his mouth, fists clenching in the sheets.
You could only watch. Breathe. Throb.
Nam-Gyu bit Su-Bong’s bottom lip and tugged, then whispered, “Get her naked.”
Su-Bong turned to you like he’d just been given an assignment he was dying to complete.
His hands worked quickly, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down slow enough to savor every inch. Your underwear followed. His hands trembled as he helped you step out of them.
Nam-Gyu ran a hand up Su-Bong’s thigh, then leaned in close. “Go ahead,” he whispered. “Touch her. She already said yes.”
You felt Su-Bong’s fingers slide between your thighs.
Then his mouth.
Your gasp punched the air from your lungs as he leaned in and tasted you—tentative at first, then deeper, more confident. His tongue moved with slow precision, and you could feel his breath, his moans, the way he shook when you moaned his name.
Nam-Gyu watched, one hand sliding down his own chest, the other curled into Su-Bong’s hair, tugging it just enough to make him groan against your heat.
“Good boy,” he murmured.
Your head spun.
You didn’t know where to look—Su-Bong between your thighs, or Nam-Gyu beside him, licking his lips like he wanted next.
“You should feel how hard he gets when you moan,” Nam-Gyu said, kissing Su-Bong’s shoulder. “I bet he’d let you ride him just like this.”
Su-Bong moaned into you, hips twitching.
Nam-Gyu leaned down beside him again and whispered, “You want that, baby?”
Su-Bong gasped, pulling back slightly, mouth slick, eyes glazed. “Y-yeah,” he stammered. “Fuck—I want her so bad…”
Nam-Gyu grinned and kissed him again, this time dirtier—tongue licking into his mouth, tasting you on his lips. “Then lie back,” he said. “But I’m not done with you either.”
Su-Bong lay back like he’d been waiting his whole life for this.
His hands shook as he guided you over him, your thighs straddling his hips, your core hot and slick against his skin. His breath hitched when your fingers wrapped around him—hard, flushed, and twitching in your palm.
“F-fuck…” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed about this.”
You lined him up and sank down slow.
He cried out.
Head thrown back, hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him anchored. You gasped too—the stretch, the feeling, the need overwhelming.
Nam-Gyu groaned low behind you.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, watching from his knees. One hand lazily stroked himself through his shorts. “You both look so pretty like this.”
You started to move, rolling your hips slow, dragging moans from Su-Bong’s throat like confessions.
His hands trailed up your back, then down again. “F-feels so good,” he gasped. “You’re so warm—fuck, please don’t stop…”
Nam-Gyu crawled closer, reaching between Su-Bong’s legs to cup his balls, teasing him with light pressure. Su-Bong twitched beneath you.
“I told you,” Nam-Gyu purred, kissing the side of his jaw. “She was made to ruin you.”
You clenched around him just from hearing that—and Su-Bong felt it.
“Shit—again,” he whimpered. “Say that again—”
Nam-Gyu laughed. “Greedy little thing.”
Then suddenly, he was moving—lifting your hips just enough to make Su-Bong slip out of you with a needy whimper.
“Wait—!”
Nam-Gyu silenced him with a kiss—deep, slow, possessive.
“She’ll get her turn again,” he muttered against his lips, then looked at you. “But I want you to watch.”
You nodded, eyes wide.
Nam-Gyu softly flips Su-Bong over, hand softly going down his spine.
“You ready for me again?” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to the back of Su-Bong’s neck. “You were begging for it earlier, remember?”
Su-Bong nodded, already panting. “Y-yeah. I want it. Want you.”
Nam-Gyu wasted no time. You watched him slick his fingers, watched them disappear between Su-Bong’s thighs—watched Su-Bong writhe and gasp and push back for more.
“Good boy,” Nam-Gyu breathed, positioning himself behind him, then pushing in slow.
Su-Bong’s moan was filthy—high, broken, desperate.
You sat there, legs shaky, hands pressed between your thighs as you watched Nam-Gyu take him. The sounds were unreal—slapping skin, shaky breaths, Su-Bong gasping every time Nam-Gyu bottomed out.
“F-fuck—so deep,” Su-Bong choked, fists gripping the sheets.
Nam-Gyu leaned down, biting his shoulder, hips snapping harder. “You love it,” he growled. “You love being fucked while she watches.”
“I do—I do—I love it—!”
Your fingers moved faster, slick with your own need, unable to look away as Nam-Gyu pounded into him, hand sliding under to stroke Su-Bong in rhythm.
“Touch yourself for us, baby,” Nam-Gyu said to you, voice wrecked. “Let me see you come while I fuck him full.”
You were already close—so close, from the sight alone.
“God, you’re perfect,” Su-Bong moaned, staring at you with tears in his lashes. “You look so—fuck, I wanna taste you again—please—!”
Nam-Gyu reached for you with his free hand. “Come here, gorgeous.”
You crawled closer, lips crashing into Nam-Gyu’s first, then moved to Su-Bong, kissing him while he gasped into your mouth—filled, wrecked, and throbbing beneath both of you.
Nam-Gyu’s rhythm stuttered. His breath caught.
“Shit—I’m gonna—”
He cursed, bit Su-Bong’s shoulder, and came with a deep, guttural moan—inside him, hips grinding, eyes locked on yours as he fell apart.
But he didn’t stop moving.
And you weren’t done yet.
Su-Bong was panting—hips twitching from aftershocks, body flushed and shining with sweat. But the second Nam-Gyu slipped out of him with a wet sound, the moment his eyes landed on you again, everything about him shifted.
He wasn’t the trembling mess anymore.
He was starving.
You barely had time to gasp before he lunged—flipping you onto your back with a strength that didn’t match his usual softness. His hands were on your thighs, spreading you open, mouth crashing into yours so hard you tasted yourself on his tongue.
“Y-you let me watch,” he whispered, voice hoarse and cracked. “You let me feel you, taste you—I need it again. Please, I need to fuck you. Let me—let me make you come. I want to feel you come around me this time.”
Nam-Gyu, still catching his breath beside you, let out a low laugh. “Look at you,” he murmured, brushing Su-Bong’s curls off his forehead. “Begging like that, and still so fucking hard.”
“I can’t help it,” Su-Bong whispered, grinding into your thigh. “She’s so warm—I can’t stop thinking about how she felt.”
You pulled him in and kissed him again, and that was all he needed.
He lined himself up with shaking fingers and pushed into you deep.
The moan that tore out of him was filthy.
Nam-Gyu sat beside you both now, hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach, watching the way Su-Bong sank into you like he was returning home.
“Fuck,” Su-Bong gasped. “You’re so wet—did watching us get you like this?”
You nodded, words stolen.
He rolled his hips once—and you arched, nails digging into his shoulders, whimpering under him. His pace started slow, but quickly picked up. He didn’t hold back. Every thrust was desperate, deep, needier than the last.
Nam-Gyu leaned over and kissed you, slow and sweet, as Su-Bong fucked you through it.
“You look so good like this,” he murmured. “Eyes all glassy. Thighs shaking.”
Su-Bong let out a broken sound. “She’s squeezing me so tight—I can’t—fuck—she’s gonna make me come—!”
Nam-Gyu kissed him next—messy, open-mouthed, fingers sliding down to circle your clit while Su-Bong pounded into you from above.
The pressure snapped like a rubber band.
You came with a cry, legs shaking violently, body clenching around Su-Bong in pulsing waves. He gasped, then followed, moaning your name into your neck as he spilled inside you, hips stuttering, body curling over yours like he was falling apart.
Nam-Gyu held you both—one hand tangled in Su-Bong’s hair, the other stroking your thigh as your breath slowed.
Silence.
Heavy, warm, complete.
Su-Bong collapsed against you, still inside, burying his face in your neck. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “I’ve never—God, I never…”
Nam-Gyu chuckled, brushing his lips over your jaw. “Welcome to the club.”
You all stayed tangled together—hot skin on skin, no need to move, no need to speak. You could feel Su-Bong’s heart pounding against your chest, Nam-Gyu’s breath on your shoulder.
For once…
You didn’t feel haunted.
You felt home.
Authors note: Uhh hi! Sooo this is long asf so hope yall liked it! Thanks so much to @benyablinkakaeto for their amazing fanart and inspiration and thank you so much for letting me write a fic abt it!!
Love ya, Moon.
Taglist!
@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @inotaku-talkz @sxmmerchxld @multifandomgirllol @gizaspicebag @truefandemonium @lovestruck-sky
namgyu icons
season 3 episode 1
free to use, no credit needed