#let’s get fucking pretentious girl!!!!

[fridayiminlovemp3]

long ass title. i’m so ready

#let’s get fucking pretentious girl!!!! #LETS GET IT #taylor swift

[bumbleblurr]

so ready to stop reading this fic and throw it directly into a paper shredder bc they portray bulkhead as dumb

#like ig maybe theyre trying to show bulkhead from how this character would see him #but dude. i am going to strangle u #they have him like be a lil foward in greeting someone #and take like a minute fo understand a joke #all the while describing him doing these things with descriptions like ''blank look in his optics'' & ''dumb as rocks'' #LIKE GIRL SHUT THE FUCK UP !!!! dont talk abt him like that #i particularly get a lil aggravated at how him taking a moment go understand a joke was meant to be bc hes ''dumb'' like ok. .. #why is it so hard go believe that he is. not dimwitted #like the whole point of Sentinel claiming he is that is Because He's Wrong #like are u telling me u believed sentinel. would be correct about this #ogh my temper has been frequently tested on bulkhead interpretations recently akdhfkfgkdhflf #maybe i should let that part of my brain that gets irritated abt bad blur & bee characterizations take over for bulkhead as well #but i think ive already garnered a lot of ppl that dont like me bc of how stubborn i am abt stuff like this ajdhflfhkfhfj #sorry i am annoying and pretentious abt my opinions on fictional robots. it will happen again </3 #🐝 could you repeat the last part? 🟦

[comas-are-for-sleeping]

every day i feel myself becoming a little more pretentious and i HATE MYSELF for it

#my ass is literally writing a whole thing abt how our political system is fucked #and that the things we consider political arent actually #...bc most of these things are basically life and death #if politics is governing a body (as in population(s)) #but one of the ways to govern said group is actively making it harder for the majority to live let alone succeed financially/personally/etc #but i feel SO PRETENTIOUS for saying all this #rlly fucking feel like one of those mfers going 'but what even is reality' like shut me the fuck up #but also... am i wrong #and why isnt this the position people take more often #when some legislation or what have you is statistically actually KILLING PEOPLE #why is it still an issue of politics #bc i feel like also the idea of something being political makes it so easy for people to bow out #like 'oh yeah i dont really mess with politics its too complicated' #like stfu?? these are people's lives?? #why do you only care about yourself?? #so maybe its not that 'nothing is political anymore' but rather that politics needs to be destigmitized #like girl i get that maybe you think that seeing homeless people on the streets ruins your aesthetic (SARCASM) but those are people's lives #why are we ok with not only ignoring them but actively making their lives WORSE #and that's only one of the hundreds of issues??? #like we did not agree for our (i say not a tax payer) tax dollars to be spent on bombs for israel #tbh did not agree to use them for bombs in general!! #like if i could say 'here is where i want my tax dollars to go' then that would be so great?? #granted i literally know nothing about anything but like #how is it that our schools are underfunded and people are in crazy amounts of college debt but we can drop billions of dollars on military #aid #like make it make sense #and why is that a political issue #like at this point we're even politicizing people's mfing BODIES #HOW IS MY BODY A FUCKING POLITICAL ISSUE #cause thats what it really boils down to

[livinginshambles]

How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

_________________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

@targaryenmoony @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @quackitysdrugdealer @gaysludge @acciotwinz @in2meijasworld @shadowbriar @kategables @prongsprincessworld @devilsnightz @lavandersblues @inesven

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #marauders era #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders #marauders fanfic

[luveline]

hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶

ty gorgeous! fem!reader

Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 

"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 

You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 

"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 

"What are you doing?"

Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 

"Why?" 

"I do this every Friday before you get home." 

"What?" 

Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 

"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 

"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."

You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 

"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 

He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"

"I'm the girl." 

"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 

"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 

Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 

"No, you're not." 

"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 

You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 

"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 

Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 

He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.

"What are you doing?" you ask. 

"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[bro-atz]

bottle service

in which: all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.

pair: big dick!yunho/small!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, completely consensual!

author's note: @yourfatherlucifer for you my love 💕

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia apply for the permanent taglist here! network: @cromernet

Yunho didn’t have a type, per se, but he found himself always drawn to girls like you. His friends made fun of him, telling him that he had a lolita complex, but that was definitely, completely, 100% not true, especially because he was not at all attracted to underaged girls. No way. Absolutely not. He just liked dainty little women with soft facial features and short statures— what she could be wearing doesn’t matter to him at all (because, honestly, he would rather they wear nothing at all).

“Five bucks says he hits on her by the end of the night,” Yunho heard Mingi whisper to San.

“There’s no fucking way I’m taking that bet because we already fucking know he’s going to do it,” San, already completely wasted, conveyed his opinion along with his sailor mouth.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Mingi frowned.

Yunho rolled his eyes. As Mingi and San continued to bicker in the background, Yunho’s eyes followed your every movement. He watched as your hair swayed gracefully while your short legs carried you around the room, making you seem like you were almost gliding. For someone so short, he was surprised to see you carrying multiple trays of beer, and his eyes flew wide open when he saw you effortlessly carry a huge bottle of champagne that could very well be three times your size— the bottle was bigger than your head for crying out loud.

“You know it’s going to be impossible to hit on a bottle girl of all people. Let’s be real, Yunho, she probably gets rich bastards hitting on her all the time, and she doesn’t even need that since she’s making so much in tips,” Seonghwa brought his voice down as he talked to the man.

“Yeah, just give up, dude,” Wooyoung added. “It ain’t never gonna happen.”

Clenching his jaw, Yunho was determined to prove them wrong. He walked away from the table and immediately up to you.

Now looking at you a little closer, Yunho didn’t realize that you were practically naked. You were wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and high-rise shorts, your red underwear peaking out whenever you bent down or moved your shoulder. Fuck, it just made the tall man want you even more.

“Hey,” he started, thinking that the line by itself would be enough.

“Hi, darling. Would your table like another round?” you, on the other hand, were in sales mode. You had no time to be flirting with this man.

“Actually, I—”

“Hey, Y/N! One more round for me and my boys!” another customer yelled from afar.

“You got it, darlin’!”

Yunho gaped as you immediately got back to work. He slunk back to his table and stood with a frown, the boys silent for a hot second before immediately bursting out into laughter.

“You’re an idiot, Yunho!” Hongjoong roared as he clapped the man on the back.

“San, you should’ve taken the bet,” Jongho pointed out.

“No, because the bet was on whether or not he would go and flirt, not whether or not he would be successful. If you said get her by the end of the night, I would’ve happily taken that bet,” San snickered.

“You guys suck,” Yunho grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yunho wasn’t able to really focus on much after that. He wanted you even more.

You stepped out for a smoke. God knows you needed it. Yes, the tips were really fucking good, but dealing with sleazy businessmen and frat bros spending all of their daddy’s money was less than ideal. Truth be told, there was only one table there that night that you didn’t mind serving. They all seemed like a bunch of well off dudes with enough money to spend but none of the pretentiousness. Especially that one super tall guy who approached you. He didn’t seem so bad.

“Just get over it. It’s not going to happen.”

Your ears perked up when you heard a man with the lowest voice on Earth speak from around the corner. You peeked your head around to see the tall man and another one of his friends from that table.

“You really suck, Yeosang,” the tall man pouted— God, he looked so cute with a pout on his face.

“She’s working, Yunho. Don’t bother the poor thing. Let her pay her bills,” the other man, Yeosang, lectured Yunho.

A curious smile emerged on your face. Were they talking about you, perhaps?

“If we leave her a big enough tip, then she could leave work early, and everything would be fine!”

“At the risk of her losing her job! It’s one thing to just want to sleep with her, but another if you’re willing to sabotage her life just to get some pussy tonight. Also, knowing you, you’re going to fucking murder her because you’re so big and she’s so small.”

There was only one short girl on your team, and that was you. So, yes, they had to be talking about you. Killing the rest of your cigarette, you sprayed breath freshener in your mouth and smoothed out your hair before walking around the corner and sashaying back into the establishment, making sure you gave Yunho a good view. Right before you went back inside, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him briefly, leaving him with a rock-hard boner.

“Fuck…” you barely heard Yunho groan as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

A smirk lingered on your face knowing that you got the man all sorts of hot and bothered. Good.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like to be a bottle girl?” Seonghwa asked you.

It calmed down in the establishment quite a lot after about an hour, allowing you to dedicate your time to the table that you were most excited to serve. You stood with them, the eight men towering over you. Originally, that would intimidate you, but given the information you knew about the tallest man of the group crushing hard on you, the height disparity didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“I mean, you can really see for yourself,” you responded with a smile. “It’s like being a stripper at times, but it definitely beats being a stripper since I don’t have to give lap dances to wasted men. I just serve them alcohol.”

“So you used to be a stripper?” San smirked— not at you, though; he was just trying to get a rise out of Yunho.

“Yeah, I did that for a couple of years before moving to the city and getting this job.”

“That’s so fucking sexy of you, Y/N,” Mingi, who was standing closest to you, stood the tiniest bit closer and ran his finger along your arm. You could see Yunho’s jaw clench when he saw what Mingi did to you.

With an exasperated smile, you grabbed Mingi’s hand and pushed it away while saying, “Buddy, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Not even if I tip you well?”

“She just said she’s not a stripper anymore, Mankgi,” Hongjoong swatted the back of the boy’s head. “Don’t do something stupid.”

You saw Yunho’s jaw relax, nearly making you laugh. Yunho was definitely subtle with his reactions, but you were keeping such a close eye on him that every single action and reaction of his did not go missed by you. He was such a cutie, and you were here for it.

“So, Y/N, what time do you have to stay and work until?” Yeosang, who seemed to be wingman-ing Yunho, asked you.

“We close at 3 AM, so 4 AM,” you sighed. “Gotta enter the tips and help the busboys clean up.”

“You would think as a sexy bottle girl, you wouldn’t have to do menial labor like that,” Wooyoung mused.

“We’re still employees,” you laughed. Then, bringing your voice down, you said, “But I like helping because sometimes we find loose bills around the venue. Free money.”

The place was practically empty by the time 3 AM rolled around. You realized that as you talked to the eight men, you talked to all of them except the man that you were actually interested in. Bummer. You couldn’t expect him to wait for you after work, so when they all left for the night, a light sigh left your lips, and you half-heartedly finished your work for the night.

Yet, at 4 AM, you left the building to see Yunho standing outside. It was a little chilly out, so you could see his breath in the air as he exhaled and looked up at the sky. He looked so sexy standing there with his hands in his pockets, his jawline and neck accentuated in the city lights as he held his head up high.

Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. You weren’t as subtle as you’d like to think— he noticed your sly looks in his direction when you were talking to his table, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. Fuck, you were so perfect for him, and he told himself he would do anything if he got to spend the rest of the night with you, even if that meant waiting outside for you for an hour. At least that gave him time to sober up slightly more (not that he had much to drink in the first place).

“Yunho, right?” you asked as you approached the man.

“Oh! Y/N,” Yunho, surprised, turned around to face you, a light blush appearing on his face. “H-hi…”

“Hey.”

Yunho was speechless for a split moment— you weren’t in your work clothes anymore, and you definitely had a lot more on than before, but your long coat just accentuated your short stature, making the man thirst for you even more. Your hair tumbled around lightly as the wind pushed it back, revealing the playful glimmer in your eyes. Yunho was smitten. Completely and utterly smitten.

“Sorry, I know it must be creepy for a man to be waiting for you after work— I’m sure it happens all the time, and I don’t mean to be one of those men, but I just—”

Yunho, rambling out of sheer nervousness, cut himself off when you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. You gave him a half-flirty, half-appreciative smile as you looked at him. You didn’t need to utter a word for Yunho to feel reassured that the feelings were mutual. Thank God.

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” you asked him, your voice barely audible over the rushing wind.

Yunho couldn’t keep his hands off you. In the car ride to the hotel, he had his large hand on your thigh, rubbing slowly and sensually, but not going further than that. And then, in the elevator, he pinned you against the wall and grabbed the back of your head, immediately pulling you in for a rough kiss. You clutched and grabbed at his forearms as he fully overtook you, his lips completely devouring yours. He only got more rough from there when he shoved his hand down the waistband of your pants and panties, his fingers stroking your dripping folds.

“Yun— Ah! Yunho, w-wait,” you moaned, your words muffled against his lips.

“What do you mean “wait”, doll? You’re so fucking wet for me,” Yunho teased as he murmured against your lips. “I think you’re just as impatient as I am.”

“M-my legs,” you whimpered before inhaling sharply. “If you don’t wait, I won’t be able to stand…”

“If that’s the case,” Yunho growled before withdrawing his hand so he could lift you, his large hands grabbing and squeezing your ass as he suspended you in the air.

You laced your fingers through his hair and held tightly as you brought your lips to his once more, his tongue diving deep into your mouth as he resumed eating you alive. The elevator doors opened, and you for sure thought he was going to let you down, but instead, he continued to carry you down the hall, his lips still locked in a frenzy with yours. Soft moans and sighs left the two of you as you got to the room. Yunho unlocked the room and immediately rushed inside so he could pin you on the bed and rip your clothes off you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Yunho murmured as he gazed at your slick, his tongue sensually running along his lower lip. “Gimme a taste, why don’t you?”

You nodded shyly. Yunho’s hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, his tongue meeting your cunt. You cried out in pleasure when you felt his tongue slither inside you, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you out. It was when Yunho lifted you up while continuing lick and slurp up your arousal fluid did you yelp, the man holding you up in the air as his tongue violated you. You held onto the roots of his hair and gripped for dear life, the fear of you falling sending blood rushing through your body but also filling you with excitement.

Before you could cum, Yunho let you down. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and looked down at your tiny, helpless body, a smirk forming on his face as thought about you looking torn to shreds because of his monster cock. You watched him with trembling eyes as the man slowly stripped down for you, your eyes widening as you saw his firm cock trembling and waiting to burst forth from his underwear.

“Y-yunho… I— I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you said with slight fear.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Yunho responded nonchalantly as he revealed his massive cock and tapped your waist lightly, his cock the literal length of your stomach.

Rolling on a condom that he had taken out from his wallet moments prior, Yunho got on the bed and rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. You were terrified that he was going to just push his way right through you, but instead, Yunho merely pushed the head into your cunt, then pulled out. He did this several times, frustration starting to build inside you as he teased the everloving shit out of you.

“For someone who was so afraid, you seem to want me inside you,” Yunho chuckled.

“Fu-uck! Yunho, do something, please,” you begged him, the fire in your loins burning a hole within you.

“Alright. Just relax for me, okay?” Yunho said, his voice hushed and calm as he caressed your face.

You nodded and did your best to relax, your head pushing into his hand as he finally pushed more than just the tip into you. You felt him fill you up, and you felt like he was tearing you as his cock spread you wider than you had ever been spread. You reached for his arms and held on tightly as he pressed his hands onto the bed right above your shoulders, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted. “Loosen up.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, Yunho shoving his length all the way inside you when you exhaled. You flung your head back and cried loudly as you felt his cock throb uncontrollably inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix. Yunho remained in place as he let out an erotic sigh while you, on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink the stars out of your vision.

“See,” Yunho told you, a cocky smile on his face. “I do fit.”

“Mmmhmmm,” you couldn’t even formulate words— all the man did was push his cock in you, and you already felt like you were fucked out simply because of how much he filled you up.

He only thrusted into you a singular time, but your entire body lurched and moved backwards with said thrust. The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the room, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so massive that you felt like he was going to pull out your insides.

“Doll, you feel so fucking good,” Yunho grunted out, his head dropping down to your neck. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and small— Fuck!”

Yunho flipped the two of you so that he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him. When you sat all the way down, you felt like his cock shot straight through you, hitting your cervix with such force that you came immediately. You cried loudly as you creamed and clenched, making the man flinch and nearly cum himself.

“Shit, don’t go squeezing me like that,” Yunho grunted with a little chuckle. “You nearly snapped my cock off.”

“Do-Don’t act like you— Hnngh— Didn’t like that,” you panted out, little groans leaving you as you continued to ride his fat cock.

Yunho smirked. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust into you at an angle that made you completely fall apart, your hands resting on his abs to keep you steady. You could barely keep your hands in place, though, because he brought his lips to your breast and started sucking hard, his mouth completely overtaking your nipple. You entire body trembled when you felt his tongue flick and swirl around your nipple, and it certainly did not help that he sucked super hard on your breast as if he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched from one to the other, and his waist refused to let up as he thrust powerfully from underneath you.

“‘m c-cumming again!” you moaned loudly as your cunt convulsed, making you squirt all over Yunho’s waist.

He, however, refused to give you a break. Your head was still in the cloud when he sat up entirely and moved so that he was kneeling and you were still sitting on his cock, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you continuously. You clung to him and moaned loudly as his thrusts did not slow down in the slightest. He continued to drill into you over and over again, his force so immense that he ended up pinning you down on the bed again.

His cock kept rubbing along your G-spot and hitting your cervix, and the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through bleary, teary eyes that his eyes were dark and his jaw was tense as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You’re tightening up again, doll— are you gonna cum again?” Yunho could barely laugh as he groaned his question.

“Ye-es, I’m c-close,” you whined. “I’m gonna—”

Yunho interrupted you with a kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you barely heard him say, “Wait for me. I’m al-almost there— Shit!”

Suddenly pulling out, Yunho removed the condom and came all over you, his seed spreading from your chest all the way down to your convulsing pussy as you, too, came. Yunho sat back on his heels and jerked himself off as more of his hot cum spurt out and landed on your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed as you flung your head back into the sheets, your hands covering your face. “That was insane.”

“In a good or bad way?” Yunho asked with a slight laugh, his body hovering over yours as he brought himself to look at your fucked out face.

“Good— That was too fucking good, Yunho,” you sighed out. “Too fucking good…”

“I’d say let’s go again, but I’m afraid I’ve only got the one condom,” he whispered.

“…Are you clean?”

“Yes, are you?”

You nodded then reached for his neck, pulling him into your embrace. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “Then I don’t see why we can’t go again.”

Yunho shivered, and his cock firmed up almost immediately. He grabbed you and flipped you over so that you were on your hands and knees, his cock immediately rubbing along your ass crack.

“You’re going to regret saying that to me, doll.”

#Spotify #ateez #jeong yunho #yunho smut #yunho x reader #reader x yunho #ateez yunho #jeong yunho ateez #yunho ateez #jeong yunho smut #ateez jeong yunho #broatz

[hyunniesgirl]

Hot n Cold

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Genre: enemies(ish) to fwb to ?, smut, angst(a bit?)

Summary: after going from annoying each other to fuck buddies, Minho took your situationship from granted, always having you on his beck and call. So imagine how surprised he is to hear you have a date with someone else?

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact.

Warnings: Minho is possessive, a bit manipulative, kind of a jerk too(he's a walking red flag let's be for real), hair pulling, rough sex(?), unprotected piv(this is fiction please always use protection irl), creampie, bites/hickeys, I think that's all let me know if I missed something.

I had to write this plot because it has given me brain rot since I first thought about it so I just really wanted to take it out of my head ☠️ as always let me say that I'm not very good with smut but I keep trying so I can get better at it, so I hope you guys like it.

You didn't like him, not at all. Minho is a known fuckboy, the guy you shouldn't get involved in anyway. You were always surprised with how many girls fell for his tricks, until you did too.

You didn't mean to fall in love, it actually was the very last thing you wanted to happen. You and Minho were always fighting, bickering, provoking each other, it was natural. You were not friends, more like you were part of the same group, so you were always together and that ended in arguing every time.

You can't remember why you thought it was a good idea to fuck, maybe it was all the pressure and snarky comments your friends kept making, saying there was too much sexual tension between you two.

You didn't hate each other, you just didn't agree with everything. It always started with you saying something, anything, and Minho making some stupid comment with that damn smirk on his face.

Your first reaction was to feel embarrassed, blush rushing to your cheeks as you think of a good answer to give him. After that, you would pick on anything he said, making him roll his eyes every time you opened your mouth.

That was your thing, annoying each other.

One night, after everyone drank themselves to unconsciousness on the floor of your apartment, you decided to take a shower to sober up and go to sleep too.

You thought everyone was sleeping, clearly you were wrong because you bumped into Minho as soon as you opened the bathroom’s door. He was waiting outside, turning around to look at you the moment he heard the door.

He checked you out, staring at you up and down, biting his bottom lip before showing you that pretentious smile of his. That made you hold onto the towel tightly around you, afraid that he could undress you with only his eyes.

“Looking good”, he says, leaning against the wall. His comment makes your whole face hot and you just pray you were not as red as a tomato.

“You are drunk”, you scoff, trying to recompose yourself, walking past him.

He grabs your wrist, forcing you to turn around to bump right into his chest. He's looking down on you and you can't muster up the courage to look him in the eyes, just staring at his chest.

“I'm very much sober”, he tells you, mockery in his tone.

“Okay”, you mumble. Even though you're avoiding his gaze you can feel the intensity of his stare without having to look at him, “can you let go? I want to go to bed”

“Maybe I could keep you company”, he whispers, bending down to reach your height, making you look into his eyes now.

You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes.

“Are you sure? I'm very good company”, he whispers in your ear, he has gotten even more close now.

You gulp, feeling the warmth spreading through your whole body, making the tingling sensation grow in your stomach and that's the moment you knew there was no turning back.

You woke up alone in your bed, so exhausted and sore you couldn't lift an arm. Flashbacks from the prior night came rushing in, making you want to scream. What the hell did you do? How would you look at his face now?

You look around to find a tray with orange juice and pancakes on top of your bedside table. You snatch the note that's glued to the tray so fast it's embarrassing, feeling your cheeks warm up.

“Enjoy the food. I had fun last night, let's do it again. - Minho”

An involuntary smile creeps in while you read his simple and nothing romantic sentence, you don't know why you felt so flustered and excited, was it because he was handsome? Was it the remaining feeling of a great night? You just thought it would be okay to have this kind of relationship with Minho, just pure carnal desire.

Minho was always very good at setting his boundaries and crossing them too, so good it often made you confused.

Minho would call you at midnight and talk to you till 4 in the morning, fuck classes the other day.

Minho wouldn't spare you a glance for an entire week until you received a text from him, telling you to meet at janitor's closet nearby so you could fuck before class.

Minho would buy you flowers, take you on a date and hold your hand, whispering sweet nothings in your ear after spending another night together.

Minho wouldn't want to go out with you on valentine's day, saying he was busy.

Minho would introduce you to his mom, he would take you to have dinner with his family and his cats.

Minho wouldn't ask you to be his girlfriend even after months, actually, he would often tell you how good it was that you were friends.

You were already tired of this situation, he would give you so many mixed signals, messing with your head. The last straw was when you were at his house and his phone buzzed while he was in the bathroom, you mistook it for yours and grabbed it instinctively to look at the screen, seeing texts from a girl.

You shouldn't feel jealous, you're nothing more than fuck buddies and you're not exclusive, you know you're not. Then why did that feel like a punch on your stomach?

You wanted to fight with him, yell, make a scene, but you had no right doing that. So you just collected your things and left without saying goodbye.

You spend a week avoiding him, every time he wants to come to you, you tell him you are out. Every time he asks you to go to him, you tell him you are busy. You finally decided to let him go and you are just mustering up the courage to tell him that.

You even downloaded a dating app, thinking that you could maybe distract yourself, maybe you could think about anything other than Lee Minho. But every man reminded you of him, how they were not him, how they didn't stand a chance against him.

After talking for a few days with someone new, you agree to go on a date. While you're getting ready, your phone buzzes, taking your attention out of your reflection on the mirror.

Minho: come over

Minho: I miss your face

You: Can't

Minho: what's your excuse today?

Minho: I can go to yours if that's the problem

You: I'm going out soon

You: I have a date tonight

You throw your phone on the bed, not in the mood to engage in conversation with him. You're actually afraid that he'll tell you to go on, because even though you know he doesn't care, it's different to have him sending you off to a date with someone else. You finish getting ready, grabbing your phone and purse, giving yourself a last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in place.

The date goes well, the guy is so fun and respectful. You go to a beautiful restaurant, he opens the car door for you, pulls the chair for you to sit before dinner and pays the bill. He smiles the entire night and compliments you, asking questions about everything: school, family, friends, he just seems very interested in anything related to you.

You enjoy his company, he makes you believe that you will be able to get over Minho, that maybe he can help you with that.

It's after midnight when he leaves you in your apartment, watching as you get inside the building safely. The night was perfect, you just didn't expect to find Minho at your doorstep.

He turns around quickly when he hears your footsteps, looking you up and down and scowling, noticing your blurred lipstick.

“Did you have fun?” He asks, scoffing.

“Yes, I did”, you say, walking to your door to open it so you can go in.

“Did you fuck?” He asks, shamelessly, making your head snap to look at him.

“That's none of your concern”, you whisper yell, trying not to wake up the neighbors but shocked by his bluntness.

“It is, I don't like people touching what's mine”, he says, through gritted teeth.

He's so close you can feel his breath hitting your skin, making you nervous, trying to find your keys inside your purse.

“I'm not fucking yours, we are nothing”, you glare at him when you have the keys in your hands.

“You should tell yourself that while I fuck you stupid, I'm sure the only person on your mind at that moment is me”, he spits, his anger growing.

“Well, I'll not be doing that anymore”, you inform him. Unlocking your door and walking inside.

“What? Why are you acting like this, Y/N?” He says, walking behind you. “Things were going great until now”

“It was great for you”, you say, throwing your purse on the couch, turning around to look at him and crossing your arms. “Being just your booty call is not enough for me anymore, I want more”

Your voice sounds more weak than you meant to in your last sentence, you want to cry. You didn't plan to end things like this, not right now.

You can almost see the gears turning on Minho's head, he's trying to find a way out.

“You told me you didn't want to date”, he accuses you.

“I really didn't want to”, you sigh, “but we've been doing this for months, Minho. It's impossible for me to not feel anything other than just horny”

“Well, I do like you”, he clears his throat, looking anywhere but your face, “I just don't want to date anyone right now”, he completes.

“Then we are done”, you tell him, shrugging and smiling bitterly.

“No, no”, he takes a step closer, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his mouth, kissing them. “Don't say that”

He places your hands around his neck, sliding his behind your back, wrapping your waist with his arms. You want to tell him off, want to tell him to go away, that you two are really over, but his scent is just so intoxicating, you can't help but take a deep breath.

“What are you doing?” You manage to say, feeling his lips brushing against yours.

“I'm showing you my affection”, he whispers.

You almost melt into his arms, feeling his lips press against yours. He kisses you deeply, his arms holding you tightly.

Minho starts walking, making you take steps back. He leads you to your room, slowly helping you lie down on your bed.

Minho takes his shirt off, looking down on you and leaning to kiss you again, soft lips pressing lightly on yours, his hands traveling through your body, making you shiver to his touch.

He pulls your dress off of you, looking at your chest.

“Didn't wear a bra?” He smirks, “did you want him to touch your tits? Hm?”, he asks condescendingly, leaning closer to your breasts, licking your hard nipples, making goosebumps rise all over your body. One of his hands slide down on your stomach, reaching your covered pussy.

“Oh?” Minho disconnects his mouth from your chest. “Are you sure you two didn't fuck? Why are you so wet? Did you let him play with you?” He's smiling playfully, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's staring deeply at you, daring you to tell him you wanted your date to fuck you.

“Maybe I should have”, you challenge, he has no right to inquire what you did or didn't do on your date.

“Really?” He scoffs, standing up and you just watch, afraid he'll leave. However, he starts unbuckling his pants. “I guess I've been too nice to you this whole time, y/n. Since you apparently don't know who fucking owns you”

You feel your whole body shudder, you should be mad, not excited about what he said. Then why is there a pool forming on your already wet panties? You never really noticed that Minho was the possessive type, but thinking about it, it was quite strange how he always had his hands on you whenever you were out. Other than holding hands, he often would just wrap his hand around the back of your neck while you walked together, like he wanted to claim you, let people know you were not available.

Minho leans over you again, pulling the soaked piece of fabric down your legs. He grabs your waist, flipping you around effortlessly and positions himself in between your legs, caressing your ass as you get on all fours.

He's not really worried with foreplay since you're plenty wet, he's more preoccupied with putting you in your place. So he drags the head of his cock through your folds, soaking his cock on your arousal before pushing it in.

“Min-Minho”, you gasp at his fast thrust. “Slow down”

“I don't think so”, he bends down a bit, sliding his hand through your back until he reaches your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling it all together. “The way you're squeezing my cock, tells me you like it when I treat you like the toy you are”, he tells you, smacking your ass in an unexpected slap.

You shake your head, unable to talk. His cock is reaching everywhere, like he always do. That's the worst part, he always fucks you so well and you always want more.

“Fuck”, you groan when your knees give in but Minho doesn't stop. He forces your legs open, leaning on top of you to keep fucking you from the back. His mouth is so close from your neck now, he starts biting your skin, sucking so hard you're sure you won't be able to cover the hickeys with makeup later. “I'm close”, you cry out when you feel his teeth on your shoulder.

“Tell me you're mine if you want to finish”, he tells you, slowing down his movements. But you shake your head, not giving in that easily. Minho sinks his teeth on your neck once more, sucking and licking the sensitive skin, he knows how much that turns you on even more.

“Come on, babe. I know you want to”, he says one more time but you hold it in, making him huff angrily, changing the pace of his thrusts again to deep strong movements that rip the air out of your lungs, “fucking say it”

You feel the tears brimming and running through your cheeks, the overwhelming feeling of the pending orgasm making your mind hazy.

“I'm yours, I am-”, you struggle to spit the words.

You can feel his smile on your skin while he disconnects his teeth, leaving a kiss on the reddened area.

“Was it that hard?”, he says, sliding his hands to your folds, sinking his fingers on your already full pussy to wet them. Minho brings said fingers to your clit, making circling movements accompanied by your moans, choking on the pleasure.

“Please, please, don't stop”, you cry out feeling the tightening on your lower stomach, the heat spreading to all your body, making you moan loudly when you finally reach your orgasm.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that.”, Minho groans, thrusts getting sloppy. He puts his hand behind your neck, pressing the side of your face to the pillow. “I love seeing your fucked out face while I cum, kitten”

Minho moans, releasing his load inside of you, making you squirm beneath him, feeling his warm shot. With no energy, you just feel him pulling out of you and throwing himself by your side.

When your high starts subsiding it hits you that you're still at the same place as before, so even though you just want to cuddle with him at that moment, you turn your face to look at him and ask.

“What are we now?”

------

A/N: as always, feedback is VERY important to writers, so please leave a comment, reblog or stop by my DM, I love to hear your thoughts on my stories!

#skz imagines #skz x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #k-labels #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz x y/n #skz x you #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know stray kids #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz scenarios #skz imagine #lee know imagine #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know smut #lee know skz

[theriverdalereviewer]

blackpink having a comeback we all fucking cheered

#now I LOVE blackpink #I don’t talk about them enough on Tumblr bc im more involved on twt but let me fucking tell you its been a journey 😔💔 #I discovered them in November 2019 and I kinda got bored with them around hylt eraidk what was wrong with me #I went through a pretentious reveluv phase idk #anyways then ICE CREAM HAPPENED #and for anyone who doesn’t know ice cream was a very controversial release 😭 #first people were disappointed about Selena Gomez featuring on the song and then when the song was released #the bp solo stans (so the people who only like one member) all had an issue with the song #some were mad that a member didn’t rap some were mad that their favorite didn’t get enough lines #those same psycho solos were attacking one member Lisa for getting the most lines and rapping and SELENA GOMEZ ESCAPED UNSCATHED #and even with all of that drama everyone on stan twt was shitting on the song?! #like this was an objectively fine song nothing terrible nothing exceptional just something sweet and fun for the summer #but everyone wanted to act like it was nails on a chalkboard and that all of these other groups were superior #even though they released the same bs #anyways this whole ordeal led me to be like “I must defend blackpink on the internet" #because bp are always being criticized for releasing the same hip hop electro edm sound idk what to call it #but when they did something different everyone hated it for reasons I didn’t understand #so when lovesick girls came out it was like all my dreams came true because the people who don’t like them were just looking for a reason to #be disappointed with them and they just couldn’t without coming out as hypocrites it was so great #like that song was something completely different and so so good its a crowd favorite #so now that theyre coming out with new music im seeing people once again complain about their d4 style music #but its just like why should they try to please people who don’t like them? what’s wrong with them doing their signature sound? #why pretend to be disappointed when you don’t like them no matter what? #and at the end of the day that d4 type of music is good GOOBYE!

[smuttysabina]

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

#smut #kpop smut #ive smut #rei smut

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films. 

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down. 

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since. 

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job. 

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before. 

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face. 

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air. 

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow. 

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left. 

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again. 

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films. 

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!” 

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously. 

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him. 

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly. 

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence. 

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant. 

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open. 

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies. 

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies. 

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it. 

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again. 

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them. 

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant. 

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door. 

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What  -- the hell are you doing here?” 

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time. 

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity. 

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work. 

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.” 

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more. 

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you. 

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you. 

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him. 

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim. 

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive. 

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply. 

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off. 

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch. 

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants. 

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas. 

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy. 

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him. 

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on. 

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing. 

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day. 

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?” 

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh. 

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck. 

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started— 

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.” 

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register. 

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time. 

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass. 

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer. 

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him. 

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth. 

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled. 

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you. 

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching. 

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch. 

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“ 

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin. 

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release. 

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him. 

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.” 

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you. 

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust. 

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch. 

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips. 

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin. 

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings. 

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail. 

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl. 

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole. 

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better. 

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing. 

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.” 

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly. 

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure. 

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you. 

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you. 

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit. 

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet. 

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter. 

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too. 

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go. 

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed. 

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again. 

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable. 

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole. 

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately. 

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously. 

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you. 

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex. 

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…” 

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right. 

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly. 

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice. 

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length. 

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.” 

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #sub!neil lewis x reader

[murdrdocs]

coriolanus’ world !

☼ fluff ☽ smut (18+) ☁︎ suggestive (18+) ϟ dark content (18+) ☆ favorite full masterlist

note: fem! and gn! labels are given based on the use of pronouns and anatomy; fem! fics use 'she/her' or labels such as 'girl' as well as explicit afab anatomy, GN! has no use of gendered pronouns or labels and anatomy is ambigious

all works are 18+.

coriolanus snow likes to chase and claim his prize ☁︎ ϟ fem!

coriolanus still likes to chase indoors ☁︎ ϟ fem!

giving coriolanus head ☽ GN!

tricking coriolanus into submitting ☽ fem!

virgin!coriolanus pretending to not be affected during his first time ☽ fem!

coriolanus kisses like he's trying to breathe you ☁︎ GN!

coriolanus' dog tags dangling in your face ☽ fem!

coriolanus' possessive kink kicks in when it comes to your virginity ☁︎ GN!

sneaking around the university with post!tbosas coriolanus ☁︎ GN!

in coriolanus' mind, fucking you fixes every problem ☽ GN!

lake days and oral with coriolanus ☽ GN!

peacekeepers coriolanus and sejanus sharing you ☽ fem!

attempting to get coryo to stay and cuddle with you and sejanus ☼ GN!

taking coriolanus and sejanus in the same hole ☽ GN!

coriolanus is briefly upset that sejanus' dick is bigger ☽ GN!

(post) peacekeeper!coryo fucking you, dr. gaul's daughter ☽ fem!

having heard about face sitting, coriolanus has a proposition ☽ fem!

thanking peacekeeper coryo after fucking ☽ GN!

post!peacekeeper coryo finds you in the capitol ☽ GN!

study motivation from coriolanus ☽ fem!

coriolanus is pissed at tigris, so he takes it out on her lover ☽ fem!

coriolanus making you, a capitol brat, ride him with no help ☽ GN!

cowboy!coriolanus ☼ GN!

coriolanus lets you cut his hair and you like to mess with him ☼ GN!

coriolanus hates to be called his full name ☁︎ GN!

☆ coriolanus pretends he hates to please you ☽ fem!

having coriolanus whimpering under you ☁︎ GN!

newly non virg coriolanus obsession w you ϟ GN!

drunk love confessions with coriolanus ☽ GN!

coriolanus gets talked through it vs talks through it ☽ GN!

tutor!coriolanus who's pretentious, but needs you ☽ fem!

coriolanus wears your purity ring after taking your virginity ☽ GN!

coriolanus is capable of fluffy moments, too ☼ GN!

virgin!academy!coriolanus and his requited crush ☽ fem!

sneaking around with academy!coryo ☽ GN!

drunk and needy academy!coriolanus ☽ fem!

coriolanus believes you exist for him ☽ GN!

coriolanus and his minor piss kink ☽ GN!

coriolanus making you piss yourself ☽ GN!

coriolanus (worship) foot fetish ☽ GN!

best friends!dad coriolanus snow ☽ fem!

coriolanus presses into your bruises while fucking ☽ GN!

stepbro!coriolanus and his love for his stepsister ☽ fem!

coriolanus and eye contact ☽ fem!

modern!coryo while you're visiting family ☽ fem!

your christmas gift to modern!coryo ☽ fem!

you're drunk, luckily coriolanus is there ϟ ☽ fem!

cheating with ex!coriolanus ☽ fem!

coriolanus treats your body like an experiment ☽ fem!

#updated: december 31 2023. #–𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒 #coryosworld! #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #celeste writes thg

[saetoshis]

[‹ LOVE HATING YOU! ›] KAISER

[‹ SUMMARY ›] hanging out with kaiser always leads to one thing!

[‹ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS ›]

fem!reader, pro player!kaiser, chars. 21+, hate fucking, arguing -> fucking, mean dom!kaiser, lots of banter + some praise, light choking, hair pulling, pet names [princess, good girl], creampie, mdni.

kaiser rolls his eyes at the tone of your voice, yet again.

“would you mind shutting up already?” kaiser complains with his face in his palm, irritatingly dragging it down his cheekbones before looking at you with disdain. “i genuinely don’t care.”

“i’m just telling you the truth of how you’re wrong. you’re actually an idiot,” you scoff out the words, making hand gestures to accentuate your biting tone. these arguments always start over the dumbest things, and this time it’s about kaiser’s recent spat with a teammate. “this whole situation could be over if you just fucking apologized for being rude to isagi. you got yourself in this mess and you’re complaining about it when it’s your fault.

kaiser lets out a chucle, a seething energy behind it as he turns to look at you with a piercing gaze. “when did i fucking ask for your advice? i couldn’t care less if i pissed off isagi. tell him to stop being a bitch and get over it.”

at your demise, you take a step closer to kaiser and look straight into his eyes. your head tilts slightly as you shoot him a look of pure, grating irritation. “you’re so emotionally unintelligent it’s actually ridiculous.”

you both know where this is going - historically, it’s always been the same. you hang out, argue about something, fuck, argue again, then go home. it’s a perpetual cycle at this point, and the heat of the arguments you have just makes your attraction to each other somehow more intense.

kaiser flashes you an indignant sort of sneer, his fingers closing around your jaw to hold your face up towards his. his eyes keen down at you with a biting cold resonating in them, yet there’s an undeniable sense of lust mixed in. he spits out lowly, “and you… piss me off. you know that?”

“hm,” you shoot an unamused chuckle back at him, but your heart jumping in your chest tells you something else. you know where this is going, and it only takes a few words to get there. you leer out, “and what are you gonna do about it?”

your tone makes kaiser stop in his tracks for just a moment. his expression shifts to one of urgent need as he grazes his nose against yours so tantalizingly, heavy and hot breaths fanning along your skin.

“i’ll tell you what i’m gonna fucking do about it,” kaiser smirks out the words with both desire and annoyance in his cadence, pushing your back against the couch cushion abruptly. his grip on your jaw gets a little tauter as he jeers, “and you’re gonna like it, aren’t you? just like always…”

kaiser’s hands dance towards the hem of your top, yanking it up harshly to press open mouthed kisses and bites along your chest. it’s like you instantaneously keen into his touch, despite your mind sounding alarms for you to pull away.

you’re pissed off - he’s pretentious, ridiculously cocky, has the worst attitude and a complete lack of basic communication skills, yet it’s as if you’re unable to resist the innate pull of the sexual attraction you have for him.

“you’re always so horny, jesus,” you mutter with an irritated tone, but there’s a twinge of desperate need that he immediately picks up on. his hands drag fervently along your waist, his other hand gripping your jaw taut in place as you murmur, “you just can’t lay off, can you?”

“but you’re not resisting, are you?” kaiser smirks back the words, grazing his lips against yours mockingly. kaiser may be curt, annoying, and oblivious at times - but when it comes to your body, he knows it better than anything. he knows from the way that your breath picks up and how your thighs keen around his hips that you’re just as desperate, if not more, than him. “just shut up already, will you? i know you love it.”

“ugh-“ you groan out frustratingly as he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts, and you let out a hitched whine. your mind is still replaying the argument and kaiser’s stupid, annoying responses, but your clit throbs when he smirks down at you with his tattooed hands slipping your shorts and panties down your thighs. “you’re so fucking annoying…”

“am i? you sure?” kaiser sneers cockily, teasing your eyes with peeks of his toned abdomen as he slowly slips his shirt off. your eyes follow his movements instinctively, and you shudder slightly at the sight. kaiser notices everything - he’s a pro player who has talent in noticing small changes on the field, after all. it’s a given, especially with you, that he can tell when you’re even the slightest bit turned on. “see something you like?”

“just stop talking. your voice pisses me off,” you mutter under your breath between shaky sighs, thighs pulling together around his hips. kaiser’s hand slips back around your neck, gripping lightly as he sneers down at you. “you always do this shit-“

you’re cut off by a whined moan when his tattooed fingers slip between your thighs, his thumb toying with your clit each time it rubs along your folds. kaiser chuckles when he feels just how slick you are under his touch, and he jeers, “oh? cat got your tongue, princess? aren’t you gonna argue back?”

“just- shut up,” your voice comes out shakily between gasps and whimpers, your clit throbbing under his fingers. you want to argue back; you want to spit an insult at him, but you just can’t. it’s like his touch incapacitates you entirely. your thighs keen around his hand, hips rolling up to get more friction. “you know what you’re doing.”

“of course i do. gotta get you nice and wet before i fuck the attitude out of you, you know?” kaiser jeers cockily, his breath fanning against your neck as his fingers slip between your walls tantalizingly. with just a few curls of his fingers, you’re already panting and rocking your hips against his hand. “god, so desperate, huh? did you come over just for this?”

“sh-shit…” you whine and close your eyes as your vision grows hazy from desire, thighs shuddering with how your walls tighten around him in need. each wet noise and lewd moan you let out just makes kaiser even harder, and it’s easily evident in the way his bulge pokes through his practice shorts. “no, i-i didn’t.”

“oh, really? then why’d you wear those cute panties, huh?” kaiser eyes the lacy fabric where it’s strewn about on the couch cushion, his eyes flickering back to the way your pussy keeps getting wetter and filthier with each movement of his fingers. kaiser stops, gripping your neck a little tauter as he gazes directly into your hazed eyes. “look at me, and tell me you don’t wanna fuck. say it…”

“i-“ is all you can spit out, a pitiful pout on your lips when he stops and kaiser already has his answer. your hand urgently slips down his body, your fingers coming to drag and rub against the bulge in his pants. your voice comes out in a small whine, “can’t say it.”

“that’s right. such a good girl, maybe i should reward you. oh, but then again…” kaiser sneers and slips his waistband down to let his cock spring free, and it twitches visibly when he grips it in his hand to nestle against your folds. “i’m still a little pissed, you know?”

you let out a hitched gasp when kaiser slips his hips forwards, letting his cock sink deeper into you until he meets resistance at the hilt of your cunt. both of you let out stifled moans, as if neither of you want to admit how fucking good it feels to be connected like this. your voice cracks slightly when you whine, “f-fuck. i can’t stand you…”

“i know,” kaiser smirks against your lips as he rocks his hips forwards, his arms caging you under his toned frame as if to keep you trapped in his clutches. your moaned breaths mingle as you roll your hips desperately into each other, hands gripping each other tightly in remnant annoyance. your fingers flit through his hair, grasping the roots and kaiser lets out a chuckled grunt, “fuck, you pull hard. guys like polite girls, you know?”

“you’ve known- hah, from the start that i’m not polite to guys like you,” you moan back, hands holding him as close as possible as you whine with each heavy rock of his hips. his cock hits up into places that make you shudder and lose your mind, and it drives you insane how good he makes you feel.

“you’re lucky i like a good challenge, then,” kaiser groans back with a smirk as his cock twitches between your walls, and each quick, wet drag sends tingles through both of your bodies. lewd smacks and stifled moans fill the room, and the couch shakes beneath you. “for someone so irritating, you sure suck me in so nice…”

“f-fuck- is that a compliment?” you whimper back, rocking your hips back into his as he grips your waist, panting heavily while he holds you stable and fucks into you hard like he’s hungry. your clit throbs at each time he brushes against you, heated tingles growing in your body as you climb up into euphoria. your voice comes out in a whisper, as if you don’t even want him to hear, “god, i’m gonna cu-cum…”

“hah- don’t bother tryn’ to say it quietly. i know this pretty body too well. you’re only mine to fuck like this, aren’t you?” kaiser grunts out the words between a pearled sneer, fingers gripping into your waist harder as a shudder runs up his chest from how tight and slick you are around him. “show me what i want, then… cum all messy around me, go ahead. be a good girl for once.”

“f-fuck off…” you whimper and shudder hard around him as you grip his hair a little tighter, fingers shaky when you tighten up around him even more. kaiser’s tone taunts you further, and your body bursts with intense, flickering tingles when he fucks into you a little more intently. “c-cumming- fuck-“

“yeah, there you go… want you cumming hard on me all the time,” kaiser grunts breathily, his fingers digging deeper into your waist as he holds you stable and rocks heavily against you. his lip gets caught between his teeth as his cock twitches, and one last wet smack brings him to bottom out as he lets out shuddered groans. ropes of white spill between your walls, and you both pant heavily. “my fucking god- shit…”

you both eye the messy slick of liquid covering your folds and smothering his cock with hitched breaths, eyes meeting for a moment and you almost feel soft together. it only takes him pulling out and cleaning up the mess before your gazes turn into glares once again.

“never doing that again, just so you know,” you mumble to him as you put your clothes back on and gather your things, shooting him an annoyed look.

kaiser looks back at you with sharp eyes, opening the front door for you with a smirk. he looks down at you, breath fanning against your nose, “don’t play dumb. i’ll see you next week at the end of season party.”

2023 SAETOSHIS. do not copy or repost.

#[‹ moshi : writes ›] #if this gets labeled immediately ill cry #kaiser smut #michael kaiser smut #kaiser x reader #kaiser x you #bllk smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you

[hoshigray]

Just thinking about hate sex with Toji and how fucking exhilarating yet unforgiving it would be to experience such a thing with that man.

A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn my bad) A little something for y'all so I can whip up something in my drafts to celebrate 50+ followers and getting 1k notes on my daddy toji drabble!! Tysm again for the love!!! :')))

Cw: mean dom! Toji x fem! reader - spanking (1x) - doggy style then switch to missionary position - degradation (Toji calls you a "lil' girl," "bitch," and "ho") - pet names (dollface, baby, baby cakes, sweetheart) - Toji biting your shoulder - slight bondage; the reader has their hands tied behind them - the reader feels humiliated while Toji is his cocky egotistic self - mention of blood.

Wc: 575

Toji's so ruthless with you. Your face's kissing the cold floor, hands tied behind your arched back for Toji to do whatever he wants with your ass on full display.

The pace of his hips is so absurdly harsh your legs feel as if they're about to give way, and you can do nothing but receive his irrational treatment. You can feel his dick use your swollen cunt like a toy, his girth stretching your poor southern lips, and it hurts along with the merciless rhythm.

You try not to cry as tears prickle under your eyelids. The fucker of a man already has you in a humiliating position, and his hands leave crescent markings from his fingers on the side of your hips. Seeing your face in tears is the last thing he needs to see.

Toji bends down to your ear, his body weight pressing down on yours, and it has to take you biting your lip hard to suppress a moan from your lips. The taste of blood sits on your taste buds.

"What's wrong, dollface?" The husky voice almost makes you squeeze hard on his cock. God, you hate this man so fucking much. "You were talkin' some high and mighty shit not too long ago, where'd that pretentious bitch go? Wanna — hnngh! Shit, shit… Wanna hear that sweet voice again."

You peer at him through your shoulder. The aggrieved glare isn't taken seriously by the older man. "Hmph, pretentious? Quite a big word, didn't think a brute like you knew i- Iiiyaaaaah!!!"

A hard smack to your ass has you gasping for air, followed by your pussy gripping his manhood, and Toji has to use your shoulders as leverage to not cum in haste. You feel as if you can't breathe with all this pressure and weight on top of you. A tear finally comes down from your face and smears onto the ground.

"I'm not playin' games with you, ho." Toji gnashes his teeth and draws downward to bite your shoulder blade, earning an ear-piercing shriek from you. That outta teach ya a lesson. "Got anythin' else smart to say, lil' girl?"

You can't fight the tears at this point, letting them slide down your pretty face. The pathetic and humiliating atmosphere clouds your senses so much so that crying is the only thing left to do.

"Hic…N-No…" Your sobs come out naturally, and you do what you can to hide your face from Toji.

That didn't seem to be in your favor because he heard the weep, bringing himself up to switch your position. Your front is now facing him as he can see the tear-stricken face, and the glare you give him is through squinted eyes filled with anger and misery, proof that your dignity is broken.

Toji whistles and smirks. "Heh, if you could see the look on your face, baby. I'd love to have a picture of it in my wallet."

"F…Fuck you." Your spat with words that still possess venom, even if you're physically restrained.

"News flash, baby cakes:" An unforeseen thrust has you yelp aloud, so harsh and savage that your back arches towards Toji. He sneers. "Already am."

His pace returns at its relentless tempo, his dick bullying your insides, and you moan in helpless whimpers. Toji leans down to grab your face before he kisses you to shut your cries. "And I'm gonna enjoy every moment of it, sweetheart."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Again, tysm for the support!! It really fills my heart when y'all like my stuff, and I hope to continue writing things I like~~

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jjk imagines #jujutsu toji #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x female reader #toji x y/n #toji headcanons #toji thirst #toji drabbles #smut #drabble #anime smut

[fxrmuladaydreams]

a tip and a dinner invitation (sv5)

pornstar!sebastian x camgirl/pornstar!reader

summary: you’re just breaking into the industry when you get a message from a famous pornstar, asking you to meet him

notes: !!contains smut MINORS DNI!! here is the pornstar!seb au! i love this so much and will continue to write more because this is only the beginning for them 😉 also pls let me know if you want more pornstar!drivers. i think this series is going to be the filthiest thing i’ve ever written

warnings: smut, masturbating, sex toys (dildo)

next part

Sebastian felt himself twitch as he watched your video. His hand was wrapped around his cock, lazily moving up and down, matching your pace on his screen.

You looked gorgeous, kneeling on the ground with your legs slightly spread, and a dildo between them. You slowly raised and lowered yourself on the toy, your head thrown back as you moaned. You let out a long whine as you sat fully on the dildo, rolling your hips in an attempt to get it even deeper inside you.

He could see the comments that had started to flood in on your stream. Most were all variants of the same things, people telling you how good you looked, or that they wanted to be the one to fuck you.

Sebastian had thought about leaving a comment as well, but couldn’t imagine pulling his focus away from you long enough to do so.

You were still fairy new in the porn industry, having only done videos alone or streams for your viewers. He’d seen a few of your videos and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find your videos just as hot as the men leaving you comments and tips.

You gasp as you lift yourself up again, now riding the dildo faster than before. Your tits bounce up and down with every drop. The only sounds you can hear are your breathy moans and the sound of your slick on the toy.

Ride it harder baby

Look at how much she wants that cock

If you cum I’ll tip

You read the comments as you fuck yourself, pushing yourself even harder on the dildo. You can feel the knot forming in you, about to snap.

Sebastian feels himself get closer to his own climax, now fisting himself quickly, huffing out his breaths as he watches you.

“Please, please, please, please.” You moan out.

Your viewers spam your comment box with praise.

I love it when she begs

She’s so pretty when she’s about to cum

Your fingers rub against your clit, and soon enough you feel your release wash over you. You sit still on the toy and catch your breath.

Sebastian does the same, his hand now covered in his cum. He reaches for a towel to clean himself off as you pull yourself up off the toy.

Tips roll in, and comments along with them. Your viewers all teasing you for the mess you made and calling you a good girl.

You lift the dildo up and hold it near your camera. The light reflects off if it, showing off the creamy residue left on it from your activities.

“I hope you guys had fun, maybe as much fun as I did.” You wink at the camera. “Thank you for joining me tonight.” You give the camera a wave, then the stream ends.

Sebastian sighs as he leans back in his chair. He sees the link for your tips are still there. He clicks it and sends you a tip with a note attached.

Enjoyed the stream very much schatz. Maybe sometime we can work on a video or stream together? ~Sebastian

He knew it was pretentious to think you’d recognize his name, or that you’d want to collaborate with him at all. He was one of the biggest names in the industry though, and the worst you could do was say no.

You were surprised to see a notification from your tip jar after your stream had ended. You glanced at it, then continued cleaning up, only to quickly look at it again.

$200 from sebv

The note attached makes you furrow your brows in confusion. You’ve been asked to collaborate before and had denied it, but if this was the Sebastian Vettel? Your number of viewers would skyrocket.

You clicked on his name, and sure enough were brought back to his page. You’d watched a lot of his videos, often times with your fingers inside you while you watched. He was handsome, there was no denying that. He was dominant too, whenever he filmed with a girl he always took control, taking her pleasure into his hands. His accent is thick when he teases them, bringing them to the edge of release then pulling back.

You had to admit, it would be fun to get to film with Sebastian, to be on the receiving end of his touch.

You send him a private message thanking him for his tip, and telling him that you would be interested in filming together. You quickly shut your laptop, not wanting go see any response.

You finish cleaning up, then head to bed for the night.

The next day you sit with your computer, ready to start planning for future videos when you see a notification in your messages. You open it and read a message from Sebastian.

How about we meet first? I’m free at the end of the week if you’d like to get together for dinner.

You feel your face heat up. He’s definitely charming. You message him back giving him a time and date you’re available. He sends you the address of a restaurant, and suddenly you’ve got dinner plans.

The rest of the week leading up to dinner is pretty slow. You film some more videos to post later on, and read through your comments trying to figure out what people want to see.

You’re nervous when it’s finally time for your dinner with Sebastian. You picked out a dress that you liked, one that complimented you well, and showed off you legs and just enough of your cleavage to keep a man interested. Though, it hadn’t occurred to you until after you put it on that he’d already seen you with nothing on.

You find him seated at a table alone, scrolling on his phone. He’s also dressed well, a button down shirt and dark pants. His blonde hair is slightly messy, and he’s got scruff growing on his face.

His eyes lift up to meet yours when you approach him. He smiles and stands up, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Hello Y/n.” He says.

“Hi Sebastian.” You reach a hand out to give him a handshake.

He pulls your chair out for you, then moves to sit across from you.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” He says before taking a sip of his drink.

“Thank you for having me.” You smile.

“Well I haven’t had you yet.” He smirks.

You feel your face heat up at his remark. “I was surprised to see your message.”

He raises a brow at you. “Really? You don’t have offers piling up in your inbox?”

You scoff and shake your head. “I do, but none that actually interest me.”

“And I interest you?” He asks.

You take a breath. “You do. Your name does. If people see me with Sebastian Vettel then maybe they’ll become more interested in me.”

“Trust me, people are interested in you.” He winks.

Dinner goes off without a hitch, the two of you sharing stories about where you came from, your families, and what led you to doing porn. You quickly realized that under those flirty comments he was actually sweet. He cared about the people close to him, and donates quite a bit of money he makes to different charities.

You leave dinner that night with his phone number saved in your phone and a promise to call you with new plans to meet again.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel smut #formula one x reader #sv5

[inkskinned]

am i gonna put you in the book acknowledgements am i gonna be able to say your name without flinching am i ever gonna get a word in edgewise am i ever gonna recover the time i spent with you. computer virus kid; i arrived in your life already begging to be let in. somehow insecure i could even be your friend. like you had a line outside the door and we were all shifting our weight, begging.

you're so fucking good at that - at making people feel like they need to earn you, like you're a commodity none of us can afford. no kindness or careful communication could work on you - you were so good at just going-ghost, about deciding someone just wasn't cool-enough. something about that is super ironic. even the parts of it that weren't romantic felt like a romance book. i wanted you to like me so badly i scrubbed myself clean just so you'd spare me - what. your favor? a look?

okay okay okay. it's just a friendship - if it was even true that we were friends, if you even saw me as someone you trusted. on reddit someone would tell me girl literally just cut her out of your life, it's not that difficult. even i was aware of how fucked up the whole situation was. like, why the fuck do i even care about your approval? you're like, not even that fun to be around. you are often a little bit cruel.

but for almost four years of my life, i thought i had found someone like me. somebody who liked the same things i do. someone who liked to read and who liked making jokes with esoteric references and who spent maybe too much time on the internet and who was absolutely a little bit pretentious. i don't know, something about that was powerful and addictive.

i keep thinking about our last conversation. about how i said - okay, enough is enough. you pushed me too far, you really hurt my feelings.

and how you laughed and said - you think you're the victim?

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #she physically assaulted me and then screamed in my face #but not before sh'ing first and blaming it on me #while she was locked in my bathroom. at 1 in the morning #while i begged her to please just calm down and to try taking a deep breath and to go to sleep #and then she was like - ur just like my abuser #bc she had screamed in my face which was triggering to me and i froze like a deer in the headlights #and since i had shut down at that point evidently i was the problem child #i know she is out there telling our mutual friends i abandoned her and it makes me SO pissed off #like dude you spent so much fucking time forgiving & forgetting that your decrepit asshole of a boyfriend #pushed me down in the fucking hallway #but noooo hes <3 troubled <3 at 43 and divorced #bc according to you it's important that u don't '''see anyone as a monster'' #but god forbid i not handle you SCREAMING IN MY FACE #i couldnt even get you to say sorry for crossing my original and only boundary you were like ''what did you want me to do'' #babe i said 'the bf is not allowed around here he scares me and u said ur broken up with him' #that was the thing i wanted you to do: not fucking invite him to WHERE I LIVED #godddd typing this shit out and knowing it's only 2% of what actually happened makes me feel pathetic #i can't believe i let you treat me like that. you were a TERRIBLE friend.

[nmjoo-n]

SUGAR MOON 🥐 kim taehyung.

pair. art student! taehyung x fem! reader | genre. paris in the 50’s, arranged marriage, angst, romance, smut | warnings. profanity, smoking, possessiveness, pet names, jealousy, unprotected intercourse, oral sex, masturbation, fingering, age gap, breeding kink, virgin mc | word count. 7.1k

synopsis. “tell me, sweetheart, what will your boyfriend say about me being here in the middle of the night?” or kim taehyung won’t let anyone else have you. you’ve been promised to him, after all.

A small life, a small happiness.

These were the things that had been promised to you by your parents, Taehyung didn’t doubt it one fucking bit. Nothing had been shown to you, nothing he could use, nothing to stimulate that pretty little mind of yours. You were a blank canvas.

Someone he could taint. His womanizer ways had done their rounds across Paris, but no one ever actually thought there would come a time where Kim Taehyung, successor of the Kim’s and their jewelry empire, a business booming since the early 20’s, would settle down. They were wrong, of course.

Taehyung wasn’t planning on getting married and staying married, especially to such an inexperienced girl such as yourself, fresh out of her private academy, and working under her daddy as a typist, a receptionist. At least not at first. Not until he met with you in person.

Then, he couldn’t wait. After that first meeting, witnessing your shaking hands and soft voice as you greeted him—you had his cock leaking in seconds. No other woman had elicited such a reaction out of him, none that mattered. None he could remember the name of. So, naturally, he was attracted. Challenged. Interested.

It was a brief brunch, and an extremely pretentious one. Taehyung’s fingers had been itching for a cigarette the entire time, as your mother went on and on about your excellent grades and general impression. His father, an always serious man, all about his money and good name, had managed to snick cognac in his coffee without anyone noticing—anyone except you.

Taehyung’s eyes had caught your amused ones, as you rose a satin gloved hand to your red lips, pressing two digits against that beautiful mouth to keep you from laughing. He fell back on his chair then, manspreading even further, playing with the serviette in his hand, watching you closely.

You hadn’t touched your food. Out of nervousness, perhaps. He liked his women to eat, to indulge themselves in whatever pleases them most. You’d learn that. What else, then… your pinned hair, perfectly styled to fit the shape of your face, your cute nose, and rosy cheeks. The modest neckline of your dress. Hiding just enough, leaving the rest up to the imagination. Carefully chosen he concludes. By the mother. For this engagement.

What a fucking joke. He hated pretending the most. He was an artist; a free mind, someone that couldn’t be caged, someone that did not do well in circumstances as preposterous as these, so staged, so rehearsed, so—fake. If he had it his way, and his father knows this the best, he’d take you away from this table, away from all this boring talk between parents, a bidding war he’s afraid, for what price you’d be sold to him for. Well, that can’t have you feeling comfortable, and no one would want his fiancée to be dreading her own wedding day, would they?

He’s doing it for your future, he reasons.

“Excuse us, esteemed relatives,” he cuts his mother off, and stands up, mischievous gaze piercing through you. “We have greater matters to attend, don’t we sweetheart?”

You blushed immediately under the attention, clearly never having gone against anything in your life. A rule player, staying inside the box. Taehyung wanted to cut that box open, tear through it like a Christmas present, and pick you up, play with you for hours, steal that virginity, that innocence away.

It was at that first meeting, that he took you to his favorite bakery, bought you pain au chocolat, and watched you eat as he smoked, hot chocolate staining your top lip a delicious dark color. Taehyung chuckled at your child like reaction upon noticing your new bittersweet mustache, and decided he’d kiss you that day. Not then, you’d probably run off on him if he’d done it then.

“Have you no decency to tell me of my state?” You smack him playfully on the arm, and his smirk only deepens.

“And miss that adorable look on your face? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

Later. At his house, maybe, after he’s certain of your hold on him, and wants to explore it more. Explore you more. The fabric of your dress was hugging your waist exquisitely, dangerously, those heels doing nothing for you next to him. Eight years of a difference, yet he’s known of you for so long. Has seen you from afar, a mere girl with pigtails, no one he’d pay any mind to, just a shadowy figure in the background of his life, but always the promise hung; the promise between your families, the inevitable elopement.

But you were a tough woman, weren’t you? You made him fight for you. There had been a shy goodbye and then your back, walking away from him in a hurry, afraid to stick around for any more that you’d already have. That had been for the better, Taehyung mused to himself over another of many, many a cigarette. Tobacco had been a friend of his since the young age of seventeen, a way to fit in with the other teenagers and their self destructing tendencies. He had those too, he convinced himself. He had those too, but he also had his pencils and papers.

Taehyung had his art, and his music, and he was never alone. He’d witnessed no death, no poverty, no war, and so for that reason he was an insufferable dreamer, a delicate person. But he tried to see those things, tried to be a part of it all, to help, or to imitate—naturally, those people had taken and taken and taken from him, had used him for his warmth, his money, and reassured future, as they had to, at some point, unfortunately return back to their tiny, freezing apartments to starve and work minimum wage industrial jobs as he remained free to parade around Paris, wearing his expensive tailored suits and leather boots, studying art, not a care in the fucking world.

He was aware of this, too. It made no difference. He came from a family of immigrants, people who put in a great deal of effort to their endeavors. His father alongside his uncle had opened their first jewelry shop in 1922, amidst terrible, dark times, catering exclusively to the rich folk of Paris, investing every last penny they had to them, until the favor was returned. Now, boutiques across France, across Europe. Thirty-four years later.

All the whorehouses in Paris could not have prepared him for what he was about find out. For he’s never been truly jealous of anyone, has had no insecurities, no doubt of who he was. Taehyung was wanted by both men and women, divulged in sexual acts with all who interested him, never particularly caring for gender or class. People were all the same to him—everyone had a price, a reason. But not you, not to him. The more he was away from you, the stronger his feelings grew.

You had a little boyfriend; he learns from the driver he had ordered to follow you around. Someone insignificant, an electrician—so it was honest work you were looking for. A small life, a small happiness. Oh, to see your parents’ faces when they found out about this; how their words had backfired. Kim Taehyung came second to no one, and especially not a country boy trying to make it in the big, scary world. He had his ways of getting exactly what he wanted. That is to say, he hired a friend of his fathers to scare him off, to warn him against you. And if that didn’t work, if there was love involved—well, he couldn’t have that, could he?

You were promised to him first. He wouldn’t let anyone else have you. Especially that tight cunt, those cherry red lips. It went without fucking saying—he had to see you again. Unsupervised. Preferably, naked, underneath him.

So, he goes to your house. Picks up a few pebbles and tries for several windows, cigarette in mouth, dark brown curls falling over his eyes. You’re bound to answer to one. He persists, until he sees light coming from the last window at the corner of the stone building, a familiar shadow through the curtains.

Taehyung waits. It’s well past midnight, and you look terrified, but so, so beautiful. Fuckable, in your pink robe and loose hair. He wants to climb up the wall and fuck you right there, against that very window. He wonders if you’d let him, if you’d let go for him.

“My goodness, what are you doing here, Taehyung?” A protective hand over your chest, you look down at him perplexed, but—excited.

He takes the cig out his mouth, flicks the ashes off. “I can’t stop thinking about you, darling.”

He sees your eyes widen, those kissable lips part in an inaudible gasp. He smiles fondly, the thought of you half asleep, still warm from dreams, stirring because of him and his uncontrollable desires—oh, he’d marry you right then if he could. Such were his feelings for you.

“But you can’t be here! My parents—wait, are you drunk?”

Oops. He stumbled forward, discarding his suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to his forearms, stick between his lopsided lips.

“Guilty as charged, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the night. “I’m coming up.”

“Good lord, you’re not.”

“I am.”

A pause, as he begins his ascend up the front wall of your house. “You are a lunatic, Kim Taehyung. Absolutely.”

For you, perhaps. He’s climbed before, countless times actually, all involving rebellion and illegal activities, but no matter. This time he’s climbing for love, for a chance to get to know the real you, not the timid girl you are during the day, but the hidden side, the moon of you. He’d get it out of you, he’s good at that. And when he does, Taehyung will have his way with you. His cock stirs in the mere thought of it.

You make way for him to jump inside your bedroom, still shaken from the fact he can even do something like that. To see you. You must be dreaming. But no, that can’t be, because there he stands, in all his handsomeness, smelling of cigarettes and expensive cologne, curls bouncing with his every move. And he’s moving towards you.

“How is my favorite girl doing?”

Taehyung sees the flush on your bare neck, rising higher. He sees your hands coming together in front of you, as you instinctively step back from him, a prey in front of a hunter.

“This is inappropriate,” you mutter to yourself, blinking fast.

His lips curve slightly. “Yet, you let me in.”

Your eyes snap back at his. “I had no choice!”

He ignores this, instead familiarizes himself with your bedroom, the pastel colors, the minimal furniture, the piles of books. Your hairbrush, your mirror. Things you’ve used, things that smell like you. You were killing him, playing with the heartstrings of his goddamn heart. How can a girl so perfect as you, his promised fiancée, have someone else? Be touched by another man, loved by another man?

Jealousy has never felt uglier inside him.

“Tell me, sweetheart, what will your boyfriend say about me being here in the middle of the night?”

Your hip hits the corner of your desk, and you hiss quietly. You’re shocked by his words, and he doesn’t fault you. How could he know, after all. Right?

“Who told you this?” You question, and he grabs the end of your robe’s belt, feeling the lace of it.

“Confidential,” he replies simply. “You should know now, darling, I don’t share well. The woman that I’ll love will be my woman only.”

“Is that right?” You test him, he can see. A look of defiance so different from the submissive girl he met at that restaurant all those weeks ago.

He hums, enjoying your little power play. “That is exactly right, pretty thing. Care to elaborate on this secret of yours?” He kisses two fingers, places them on top of the place where his heart rests. “I promise it will stay with me.”

You don’t look convinced. You squirm and touch your hair. Another habit. You’re transparent to him, so easy to read, to decipher. Honest. Your ways do not betray you. To have someone to trust… it was incredibly valuable to Taehyung. Unheard of in the circles he ran, the family he was raised in. A salvation, then. You came to him as a small bird—what if he taught you how to fly?

“You don’t want to see me angry, sweetheart. Use your words,” he threatened, leaning against your closet, all the way on the other side of your bed, unmade and slept in.

In the dim light of your nightstand lamp, you looked dreamt up. Like a wet dream designed by his subconscious to haunt him, a personal Hell. To look but not to touch. Forbidden fruit, and everyone knows the story…

“I met him a year ago. He came for a routine check up on the power lines,” you started to explain, not moving an inch, afraid that if you did Taehyung would move as well. “I… He was kind to me. I’ve been seeing him secretly ever since.”

“Has he touched you?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question, darling, isn’t it? Has.he.touched.you?”

You huffed an incredulous laugh, as if offended. You answer anyway. “We’ve only kissed, not that it’s any of your business.”

Taehyung nods his head slowly, pointing at the pack he took out of his trousers’ pocket. “May I?” But he doesn’t wait. Lighter on the edge of the cigarette, he inhales the smoke deeply, blowing it towards the ceiling, pondering over the information in his head.

“Kindness,” he says. “Is a tricky thing, isn’t it? Makes you feel guilty if you don’t give it back, if you don’t return it.”

Closing the distance between your bodies, he sees you cowering in the corner, but those eyes are anything but scared. You have a bite, it’s in there. Taehyung wonders how he can bring it out, test it.

“He loves me,” you retort, and you’re trying to sound convincing.

The question is to whom?

“Sweetheart, I do not doubt for one fucking minute that a man could have a pretty little thing like you and not be completely enamored. Only a fool would waste the opportunity.” You stay quiet, watching him stop by the foot of your bed, nothing but a mere two steps separating you now.

“Maybe he does, chances are he doesn’t. It matters little to me,” he pins you down with a strict look. “You’re to stop seeing him. I’m not a charitable person—you belong to me now. Am I making myself clear?”

The mask crumbles, the wounded girl appears. Tears glisten in the faint warm glow of the room, and Taehyung finds himself wanting to wipe them away, make them disappear. He didn’t mean to hurt you, to make you cry. He’s drunk, and he’s jealous, and he’s falling in love.

He’s the bird in the cage, flapping its wings, terrified, starved of genuine affection. His deflecting can only camouflage this truth for so long. It will shoot out like a slap in the face to render him speechless, and it will be soon. But for right now, as he stands in front of you, all he wants is to taste those lips, to try molding them into his own.

“You are cruel, Kim Taehyung. Marrying you would be a tragedy and a punishment,” you mutter, fighting back sobs, chin quivering.

He smiles, but it’s all teeth, he’s a wolf, and it’s fake, it’s forced, and his hands are shoved deep in his pockets, fingers clenching into fists, cigarette butt bitten into to keep from lashing out. Not going after the engagement earlier had been a tragedy, having to deal with the aftermath of not trying to get to know his own fiancée the punishment. But you had been young, and he had been too preoccupied with easy pussy and pretentious art to care. Now you hate him, and it feels unfair.

“What if I told you this person was only after your money, darling? Would that make you see?”

“Lies.”

Taehyung exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring. “I don’t lie, sweetheart, if there’s one thing to know about me it’s this. I have proof. He’s been stealing from this family and has been feeding you fairytales.”

You attack then, heading straight for his face. He grabs both your wrists, and immobilizes you instantly, spitting the cigarette out in fear of burning you. You stare at each other for what feels like ages, both panting, neither backing down.

“You’re trying to poison me,” you spit at him, pure hatred spread across your beautiful face. “Lock me up.”

He softens immediately, blinking down at you, snapping out of it. “I fed you hot chocolate, ordered flowers to your house every single day since I met you,” he whispers, trying to make you see reason. “I’ve known you since you were playing hide and seek with my younger sister, a girl no older than nine years of age—I’ve never had a reason to lie to you, to trick you. All I’m doing is trying to protect you. Neither of us had any control over our relationship, (Y/N), and I am truly sorry for that. Be it as it may, I now have a responsibility to you, to keep you out of harm’s way, to be truthful.”

Tears roll down your cheeks, and you look so confused, so fucking split into what you want to believe and what is real, that Taehyung can only pull you into his arms, let you come to terms with the fact. You don’t fight, you don’t even say anything, you just sob into his shirt quietly, overtaken by heartbreak. He sits you both down on the bed, and you fall into his lap—so easily, like you’ve done this a thousand times. His thoughts drift further, and he chastises himself; you’re in a vulnerable position, it’s late. He should leave you alone.

For the life of him, he can’t find the will to do it.

“What I said still stands,” he mumbles into your hair. “I will not apologize for the way I am. For as long as you’re mine, no one else will have you. I will kill anyone who dares to attempt messing with you.”

You sniffle and sigh, tear-stained bloodshot eyes looking back at him. “I had no idea you were like this.”

One side of his mouth curves slightly, hands coming to push hair back from your face. “You’ll get used to me. Give it some time.”

Your gaze moves across his features, studying him. A breath away. If he leaned in just a bit, he could take your mouth in his, devour you whole. He almost does. The hope that you might want anything to do with him is holding him back from doing so.

“Okay,” you say, and he exhales.

“What?”

“Okay,” you repeat, fingers coming to wipe at the wetness on your cheeks. “I’ll give you a chance. Please don’t make me regret it.”

His body physically aches from the effort he puts not to pounce on your right then and there, so instead he settles for a kiss on the forehead, short and painful. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, begs for you to stop wiggling on him.

“I fucking swear, darling. I’ll be good to you.”

He’s never promised anything to any woman before. He finds himself wanting to keep good on his words this time.

It’s exactly two weeks after his little break and entering fiasco that the preparations for the engagement party begin.

Your mother seemed to know Taehyung had spent majority of that night with you, if he were to judge by her inquisitive looks and overall effort to never leave her daughter unattended around him. That was well enough—he was a creative and innovative man, he always seemed to find a way around rules and indiscreet eyes.

He takes you to a movie screening one afternoon, and stares at your animated expressions the entire time. He smokes twice as much to resist the urge of putting his hands on you. He desperately wants to; he craves having you in his arms again, yearns for that sweet scent, those soft thighs rubbing against his erection, your breasts against his firm chest. Taehyung dreams of you often, dreams of those untouched folds he’s never seen, never tasted—he’s a savage diving headfirst into them, licking every last drop of your wetness, inhaling the smell of your virgin cunt, and imagines your desire to be touched by a man, him, your soon to be husband.

He comes into his hand every morning, wishing his palm was you around his raw cock, allowing him to invade you, to ravage you. He weaves his time, reassuring himself—all in good time. He’ll have you for eternity soon, and no forever will be enough for all he’s planned on doing with you.

“Tell me, sweetheart, do you drink?”

You look at him, eyelashes flattering innocently. “No, not really,” you confess, and you appear so cute to him, then, that he must make a move, it cannot be helped.

Taehyung kisses your temple affectionately, stopping you both in your tracks in the bustling streets of the 7th Arrondissement. You lean in for just a moment, overtaken, and he considers it a triumph, a step towards the right direction. He’ll spend the rest of his life proving himself to you, if that’s what it takes, just so he can kiss you like this.

“We can’t have that, can we?” He rhetorically asks, and takes your hand in his, draping it over his forearm. “You’re with me, now, you must divulge in the few pleasures that life has to offer, my darling.”

“No one has offered to show me,” you confess shyly.

Show you he does. He takes you to the restaurant he frequents at and orders the bottle of wine he loves the most, along with dinner. Taehyung fills your glass and cuts your steak in bite sized pieces when it arrives. He advices you to sniff at the red colored alcohol first, before closing your eyes and having a taste.

You’re the most special kind of angel doing exactly as you’re told, taking a small sip of the aged wine. He watches, breath bated. When you open your eyes, the fascination on your face makes him smile brightly, proudly.

“Oh, it’s wonderful!”

“That’s my girl.”

Your fiancée leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette as you contently chew your food, drink your wine. He stares in awe, mesmerized by your genuine nature. You blush under his intense gaze.

“Won’t you eat?” You ask, biting your pink lips.

Taehyung can’t help but smirk at that. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll eat later, trust me.”

“You say it with such innuendo, I don’t understand—”

“Have you ever touched yourself, (Y/N)? Be honest with me.”

You choke on your food, eyes widening, coughing into your hand. Taehyung chuckles, offering you some water. You take it gratefully, chugging half the glass. He waits, amused, curious. A few people turn to look. He ignores them.

“That is not a proper question to ask a lady, Taehyung,” you scold him after you recover, fingers playing with your pearl necklace.

“You are to be my wife. I believe I can ask whatever I want,” he responds calmly.

You take a while to answer, instead turning to the wine for bravery.

“Why the interest?”

“Purely out of curiosity. I want to know what makes you feel good, sweetheart, for when I go down on that sweet cunt of yours.”

Your knife falls out of your hand and hits the floor at once. More people begin to tune into your conversation, intrigued. You look around, embarrassed and crouch to pick up your utensil. Taehyung turns his head to the side to blow smoke on the nosy woman on the table next to yours. She heaves, waving her hand and quickly minds her business.

“Did I say something to upset you?” He presses.

“You’re ridiculous and vulgar!” You half whisper, urging him to stop his teasing. “No one has ever spoken to me in this way.”

“Your boyfriend must’ve been a bore then, darling. I’m only stating my intentions. I would never dare to offend you.”

“It’s just as so.”

“Don’t be shy with me.”

“Yes!” You exclaim, and down the entire glass of wine. “Of course I have, who hasn’t? Now no more of this or I’m leaving.”

Taehyung shuts the fuck up at once.

He wishes he can say he was nothing but a total gentleman the entire evening, but that would a blatant fucking lie, wouldn’t it, because as soon as you get off the car to go into your house, he grabs you by the arm and kisses you deeply, hands ruining your hair. You moan and refute against his lips, but he holds you tighter, attempts to bruise your mouth so that you’d feel him there for a good fucking while.

He wishes he can say that had been all, but it wasn’t, because he takes you on the side of the building, covering you in shadows, and slips his hand under your dress, feeling your garters, touching the lace of your underwear. He rises your skirts, and fingers you right there, your parents just through the wall, wondering where their sweet little girl is.

You gasp and cling to him, bodies pressed together as he leaves you no room to think, to second guess, to breathe, even. He’s ruthless in his taking, selfish in his ambition to make you come for him, and so his digits curl in your slick, finding out the pleasure spots of you, desperate to have you screaming his name. You’re moving your hips towards his hand in no time, overwhelmed by how good it feels to have something inside you, fucking into you. Taehyung flattens his palm, and rubs your clit with the heel of it, long fingers edging you.

“Please, Taehyung… that feels too good, what are you doing to me?”

Your head falls on his shoulder, just as he hikes one of your thighs up his torso. He has half a mind to slam you down on his cock, fuck you in public, unashamed, outside your own fucking house, but he doesn’t, he won’t, because you’re important; because you matter, because he only wants to give you a little taste of what he can do for you.

“I’m stretching that little hole of yours, sweetheart. You’re so fucking wet for me, baby, so eager for my hand.”

Cupping you jaw, his tongue pushes past your lips in an open-mouthed kiss, eliciting more sounds from you, growing hotter, whinier, broken. Your pussy is making sounds too, all wet and filthy, and you seem to hear them as well, trying to pull away from his kiss, hide your face in his chest. He doesn’t let you, opens his eyes to see the pleasure written clearly on your features.

“You’ll come for me, won’t you, darling? All over my fingers? Let me see you, sweet thing, and then let me have a taste of those sweet juices. I bet you taste like pure fucking honey, I wanna bury myself in that cunt, drown in that cream. Won’t you give it to me, baby? C’mon, let go for me, let me see.”

When you come, you don’t seem to understand what you just did, what happened, and Taehyung is truly and completely awestruck by your innocence. He rubs circles on your clit until your body stops convulsing, and when he’s sure you’re okay to stand on your own, he kneels down in front of you on the dewy grass, gripping your hips, and diving in your folds, tongue lapping your slickness, so velvety, so goddamn tasty, before going for your clit, flicking the small bundle of nerves. You jerk away from him, the sensation unfamiliar. He brings you back, growls, grips tighter and does it again. And again. And again.

“Oh my God, I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna—”

He moans against your cunt, uses his hand again to provide more friction for you to rub against. You do immediately, your pussy on fire, aching like never before, your stomach in knots. Then he starts mumbling like a mad man—I can feel it, sweetheart, let me have it, come in my mouth, give it to me my filthy fucking girl, my little slut, Heaven on earth on my tongue, I swear, one more, one more baby, come on.

You come again, and this time you see stars; your vision blurs, and you almost collapse on top of him, but Taehyung holds you up whilst not missing a single drop of your release, licking all over, chin coated in your juices, running down his neck. He fucking loves it all, loves you, loves your cunt. Then, he hears it.

Your dad calling out for you. While he’s still buried between your thighs, erection pressing against his trousers, his daughter fucked out and half naked for everyone to see. You panic immediately, pushing your skirt down, looking at the direction of the voice worried, dizzy still from your orgasms.

Taehyung pulls your panties over your core, and gets up quickly, giving you one last kiss before slapping your ass. You hit his chest alarmed, anxiety ridden.

“Go first, darling. I’ll see you later.”

“But—”

He fixes you with a stern look. “Be a good girl.”

You hesitantly go, your hand dropping from his. He hates having to let go of you like this but doesn’t want to get you in trouble with your father, either. He waits a bit for both voices to disappear behind doors, before going back to his car, parked a couple houses back. Taehyung can barely think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock.

He rubs himself like that, with the thought of you coming undone over him, your taste still in his mouth. When he spits into his palm, he imagines your perfect lips wrapping around his shaft, taking his entire length into your small hole, gagging over his girth. He barely cares for anyone passing, or his indecency.

He wants to fuck you raw, fuck you dumb. Put a ring on your finger, and knock some babies in you, then die a happy man.

All in good time.

With guests arriving and gifts piling up, Taehyung hadn’t got a single chance to talk to you. Just a quick hello and peck on the cheek, before your mothers dragged you away to fix your dress and powder your face up to her standards.

You’d grimaced at him as you were taken to the guest room of his house, and he gave you a small smile in return. This day was most important to them, a celebration of two of the most powerful and influential families in all of France, so in that way, you had to look your best, and even then, your best didn’t guarantee perfection.

Taehyung thought you looked fucking stunning in your champagne-colored gown, crystals cascading down your hair. A wish, or a dream, or both. He can only imagine what you’d look like in your wedding dress, walking towards him down the aisle, given to no one but him, his to love, to cherish, to protect, and to fuck. He gets excited with the mere thought, the prospect of having you all to himself, to do whatever he pleases.

His father slaps him on the shoulder once, already more than three glasses of bourbon in; he had a buzz about him, a friendly aura, when he was drunk. It was easier to talk to him, then, in his relaxed state. But Taehyung had nothing to say—not to him, at least. He’d been a pain in the fucking ass all these years, and now when it’s time to do his duty and marry into a good family, all of a sudden, he’s the picture-perfect authority.

Bullshit. He loosens his tie a little, the noose suddenly entirely too tight around his neck, and puts the cigarette back in between his fingers, running a hand through his tidy hair, with the brushed back curls.

At first, greeting people had been easy enough. All he had to do was stand right next to you and shake hands. He doesn’t know when the air got so unbearably stifling, or when the faces all started blurring into each other, smiles melting off as if acid had been thrown onto them. Taehyung squeezes that hand he has around your waist, and you look up in concern. The music is too loud, the lights are too bright, and who the fuck keeps banging on his head?

“Tae?” You ask, delicate hands taking his pale face in them. “You’re overwhelmed,” you conclude, staring into his eyes. Then to your mother, “We’re gonna go get some fresh air.”

“Right now?” She chastises but doesn’t object. Perhaps Taehyung looks worse than he feels. “Be back soon, honey. You need to give your toasts, so we can bring out the cake.”

“Yes, mother.”

Like magic, his migraine disappears the moment you leave the living room. Your soft hand in his, leading him to privacy—all he needed, all he wanted. Your plan is to take him to the garden, have the crispy autumn air hit him, bring him back from his anxiety. But it wasn’t stress that made him unwell; it was those people, the fact that he knew none of them, and yet they got to congratulate him, to stare at his bride as if she’s nothing more than a piece of meat, something with an expiration date.

They think that Kim Taehyung won’t be faithful. That he’ll grow bored, and once he gives you a couple children, will try everything in his power to stay as far away as possible from you. The assumptions of a life he left far behind the moment he bought you that chocolate croissant were haunting him, karma coming to bite him. He was no longer that person they’ve heard so many rumors about it, nor does he wish to ever be, ever again.

You were his future now. His life. He was completely devoted to you. You had to know this.

Before you can reach for the balcony door, he pulls you into the library, locking the door behind him. You let out a gasp as he pushes you against the cold glass of the window that run across the wall, overlooking the majestic garden his mother and housekeepers had built. Taehyung smiles and puts both his arms on either side of you, his thumbs caressing your temples tenderly.

“I thought you weren’t well,” you mutter, blinking up at his handsome face.

“You always make me feel better.” He inches closer.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” And then he kisses you.

Gently, softly. Small feathery pecks, admiring the way you bloomed for him, under his touch. The party was gearing up, he could hear the melody change to something more upbeat, so he figured he could steal a few more moments with you, alone. His mind ran a thousand miles per hour.

“I want you to know, sweetheart, I want you to hear it from me directly, and believe me always when I say—I’ll be a good husband to you. I will always put you first, above my own self, whatever you need. Count on me, let me be a man that’s deserving of an angel like you,” he whispers against your lips, watches as your eyes glisten with tears of joy.

He kisses them away, then kisses your brow. You giggle, a sound holier than church bells. He would give you anything, then. His baby, his darling. Anything.

“I’m going to take advantage of you now— I can’t fucking wait any longer, you have me by the fucking balls, sweetheart.”

Your hands instinctively go for his shoulders, as he roughly pulls your dress up your legs, over your hips, those long fingers dipping underneath your silk panties, feeling that smooth pussy with his open palm. Taehyung groans into your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there. He wanted to mark you, show everyone you’re his, but not now. You’d be too embarrassed to go back out, face all those guests.

Your cunt wasn’t shy, though. It coated his fingers with your slick wetness, opened up for him to have his way. So obedient, so fucking sexy—oh, he’d fuck you. Right against this window, for anyone that was outside to see. He didn’t give a fuck. You drove him crazy with how ready you always seemed to be, your body betraying any sort of rebuttal from you.

“Tell me baby, have you touched yourself since I was in between these legs?” As his middle finger slips inside your tight entrance. “Have you thought of me while rubbing this pretty pussy? Be honest with me, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” a breathy moan against his collarbone, as your hand wraps around the nap of his neck. “Yes.”

He’s a gone man, then. A girl as perfect as you, his promised girl, admitting to pleasuring herself with the thought of him? Taehyung almost wants to apologize for who he was about to become.

“Turn around for me, darling.”

You’re scared, overthinking the position, but with one last flick on your clit, you’re drenching his entire hand, rubbing on his forearm like a starved slut.

“I’ll take care of you, baby, I got you, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask quietly, and he shushes you, kisses away your worry.

“It might, angel. But you’re my strong girl, aren’t you? Bite on my hand if the pain is too much.”

He holds your hips aligned with his erection and unzips his trousers, pumping himself a few times, using your slick to coat his length. Taehyung then puts a hand over your mouth, and you hold onto it with both of your own, inching your ass closer to his cock absentmindedly, your body obviously wanting this as much as he does.

“Fuck me, you’re a fucking dream like this, darling, let me see you. Do that again.”

You do, the white garters and stockings you have on the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his goddamn life. He’s seen a lot of pussy, but nothing compares, could ever compare to yours. Sliding his rock-hard length against your folds, he circles an arm around your waist, your knees already giving out. Taehyung chuckles, kisses your shoulder blade softly. What an adorable girl, so innocent in the ways of pleasure, all the different ways your senses can come alive.

“Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart.”

He enters you at once, what little resistance there was giving way. You scream into his hand, and he presses his chest on your back, fingers pressing against your mouth to keep you quiet. Stilling for a second, brows furrowing, aching to pound into you, to fuck you senseless, he then pulls all the way out, and thrusts back in, the tightness feeling incredible against his girth.

“Christ baby, where have you been my entire fucking life?”

You whimper, and push back, wanting to be as close to him as possible. “Faster, Taehyung, please.”

He needn’t be told twice. He stays inside you, picking up his pace, fucking into the deepest part of you, both arms wrapping around your waist, breathing labored, watching as you place two manicured hands on the glass, trying to keep yourself upright. He praises you, tells you how good you’re doing, how fucking perfect you are for him, taking cock so well, a natural, a good little slut, his baby, so proud of you, so fucking proud.

“Look at you, shameless, getting fucked for the whole world to see. You’re a filthy fucking girl, angel, aren’t you? All you want is to come on my cock, don’t you?”

“Please…”

Taehyung wants to grab you by the hair, drill himself into your hole, shape it to fit his dick exactly, to mark his place there so that you could never leave him, never let any other man in that sweet fucking place. Instead, he watched the crystals bounce, your tits smashed against the glass, corset keeping them in place.

“Please? Use your words, darling. What do you want?” He demands, bending you at the waist more, feeling his release getting closer.

“You, please, more, more!”

When his digits drop down to your clit again, you’re a crying mess, begging to be filled with cum, filled by him, to the brim, until you can’t take no more, and he gives it all to you, he’s generous, he slams one, two, three—your head falls in ecstasy, as he shoots his load inside of your insatiable hole, balls emptying all he’s been holding back for you.

He rests his head on your lower back, sweat dripping into his eyes, stinging. He kisses you over the flashy fabric of your dress, hands resting above your womb, thinking about seeing your swollen belly, carrying his child, a beautiful mommy.

Taehyung helped you get decent, tucking himself back in his pants, straightening his suit vest, passing a hand over his combed hair, and turned you around in his arms for a last kiss. Only this one was more intense; unlike any other kiss he’s ever experienced. It was emotional, carrying the trust and love you’ve grown to have for him, the most precious thing he could ever ask for.

“I’ve loved you since I met you, sweetheart,” he whispers sweetly in your ear, pulling back to see your reaction.

You flushed, hiding on his shoulder. He smiles fondly at your action and keeps you there for a while. Some time has passed since you two supposedly went to the gardens, and he didn’t want your mother to start an entire search party for the both of you, so he halfheartedly suggested to return to the living room.

Admittedly, there was no possible way to hide you two had sex. His mother shook her head as he brought you to stand in front of the two-tiered vanilla frosted cake, attached to your hip.

“I’ll love you til the day I die,” he promises later, in front of everyone, slipping a diamond ring on your finger. “Mine to hold, mine to keep.”

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