#I felt like the pressure was on for her so sorry if this sucked lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

explorevenus · 2 years

Text

ride the lightning - steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!

word count: 7k+

tags/warnings: reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, daddy steve, master eddie, sub/brat reader, praise, degradation (includes use of slut/whore a couple times), spanking, threesome, thigh riding, edging, orgasm denial, restraint (reader gets handcuffed for a min), mild dacryphilia, oral (m+f receiving), fingering (f receiving), anal (m receiving)

(^^^ i got carried away heheheh)

a/n: not new to the fandom but this is my first stranger things fic so i'm incredibly sorry if any of this reads ooc !!! i'm also not,,,, the best at writing in second person so this was originally written in first person and then gradually converted over, i hope it doesn't sound awkward ;w; last apology of the day is for formatting, i haven’t posted to tumblr in years so be patient w me lol

for the record this takes place in an au where eddie never d*ed-- u and eddie and steve share an apartment ♥ aka the best au

my ao3 ♥

masterlist ♥

fic under the cut !! thanks so much for reading !!

It was fun to push Steve's buttons sometimes. Of the three of you, he certainly had the shortest fuse.

It was fun to pick little arguments with him about meaningless things until he'd reach his wits end and scold you for being difficult. It was fun to wear short skirts around him, to watch his strong hands tighten around whatever he's holding as he'd look up the length of your legs with his lip between his teeth. It was fun to tease him in social settings, like parties, for example, with 'accidental' lingering touches to the front of his pants, and suggestive whispers right into his ear when no one was watching. Or when his friends were watching, so he'd have no choice but to swallow his reaction.

Sure, it was all fun and games, until you were being escorted out of said party by Steve himself, dragging you along by your bicep with his fist closed so tightly around you that it felt like a blood pressure test, and he was seething so strongly with annoyance that he wouldn't even look at you. Under normal circumstances you might not have felt so confident, but this was the first outing you'd attended in quite a while, and your tolerance for alcohol had tanked considerably in that time, it would seem. Just two strong drinks had you stumbling, and for that you were oddly thankful that Steve was holding you strictly upright and moving, even if he was seething.

You couldn't stop giggling as he dragged you along. "Steve, come on, don't be mad," You teased. "I said I was sorry!"

But he didn't say anything in response, his cold stare unmoving as he walked you through the chilly, sobering air-- it was a short distance to the car, though, and once you were inside with the doors safely shut, all bets were off.

"'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it, princess," Now he was the one laughing, but it wasn't jovial and light-hearted like yours, no. It was devilish, patronizing, like he knew something you didn't. It sent a shiver throughout your body, and your thighs shifted in response. Observant as ever, Steve noticed your movements almost immediately, and he swatted at your knee. "Stop that," He demanded lowly. "When we get home, you are so dead."

In your anxiousness the drive felt dizzyingly short, and as he turned into the parking lot of the apartments, your eyes caught sight of a certain big brown van parked by the stairs-- a vast majority of that confidence you felt earlier was sucked out of you in an instant. Eddie's home from rehearsal early. You knew that Steve was going to use this to his advantage, and when you looked over to see him grinning widely at the van like he'd just won the fucking lottery, you figured he was way ahead of you.

Oh, you were dead alright. You were doomed.

"S-Steve," You reached for his hand, eyes pleading up at him. "Don't--"

He parked and got out so quickly that it seemed like one smooth motion, and before you knew it he was opening your door and grabbing you by the wrist. Thankfully there was no one around, but still you felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning hot already. "That's not how this works, (Y/N)," Apparently you weren't keeping up with him well enough, as he jerked your arm forward to pull you along with him once you reached the top of the stairs. "You don't get to poke the fucking bear all night and then act innocent when you decide you don't want to face the consequences."

Steve threw the front door open carelessly, like it was just another puny thing in his way, kicking it shut once again as soon as you'd made it through the doorway. Eddie startled at the sound, looking up from where he sat on the couch. Music sheets and pages of notes were scattered around him, and he added what was currently in his hand to the pile before raising an eyebrow, "Uh oh, what did I miss?"

"Someone I know has been a needy fucking brat all night," Tossing his keys on to the counter, still gripping your arm hard enough to leave a bruise, probably, Steve began to walk you over to Eddie, and your heart retreated further into your throat with every step you took. "I am sick and god damn tired of it!" Steve shouted, letting go of your arm just to flip up the back of your skirt, striking your ass so quickly and unexpectedly that you stumbled forward at the force of it, nearly losing your footing. You couldn't help the shrill yelp that came from you, and as the sting radiated outward you couldn't bring yourself to look at either of them. It was dawning on you that perhaps you'd dug yourself a much deeper hole than you'd originally thought. It was like a switch flipped, and you went from damage control mode into fight or flight mode, an internal battle which 'flight' won instantaneously.

But, Steve knows you all too well, of course-- you didn't even have a chance to dash to the other side of Eddie before Steve hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you back into him with a level of ease that served all too well to remind you of his strength. Eddie was stunned as he watched this unfold before him, brown eyes widening further when Steve took you by the hips and forced you into Eddie's lap, straddling his right thigh. You sucked in a breath as your center made contact with his ripped jeans, the thin seat of your panties being the only barrier between your sex and the rough denim. Face burning, you let your eyes wander the many patches and buttons on his vest as a means to avoid eye contact as his guitar-weathered hands slyly took the place of Steve's over your hips.

Steve cupped your throat from behind, cradling your jaw between his thumb and forefinger so that he could redirect your gaze straight to Eddie. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that familiar warmth growing between your legs as you struggled to keep your composure, but Eddie was drinking in the sight of you like you were the best present he'd ever been delivered, big red bow and all. Steve came close to your side, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he gave you one simple order, "Ride him."

Stunned, you whimpered, "D-Daddy--"

"I am not going to ask you again," He squeezed your throat, just for a quick moment, a reminder of his strength over yours, before growling in your ear, "Ride. Him. And don’t even think about finishing unless I tell you to."

Eddie's fingertips pressed firmly into your hips, rocking you back and forth gently, like he was encouraging you to move on your own. "What's the matter, princess?" Eddie teased with a handsome smirk that bared his teeth. "Sounds t'me like this is what you wanted."

He wasn't wrong, but that was precisely why you couldn't trust it. It felt too easy, too good to be true, and that made you insanely suspicious of Steve's intentions. Still, you were desperate for the friction, and you couldn't help yourself from beginning to follow Eddie's movements, however hesitantly at first. Your mouth fell open in a soft gasp, but you quickly rectified by biting your lip and allowing your eyes to fall closed. Steve always treated humiliation like a sport he was determined to win, which made you want to deny him the satisfaction that much more. Your shaking hands found purchase clutching at the waist of Eddie's denim vest, and you flinched a bit, peeking your eyes open when he took your cheek in the palm of his hand, cool rings resting along your jaw.

"Hey," Eddie spoke softly. "Use your words."

But how were you even supposed to answer him without admitting defeat? Frustrated, you let out a sigh and found yourself subconsciously grinding harder into his lap-- it was much easier, and much more alluring, to focus on the feeling. Still, Eddie was waiting on an answer, and it was a known rule of theirs that you were expected to respond when spoken to.

It wasn't a coincidence that they also happened to be great at talking you into walls, and loved doing so.

"Master, s'not fair," You slurred, once you'd finally found the words. "I-I wanted to ride more than your thigh..."

Eddie shivered, grasp on your hips tightening, but Steve could only laugh. "Not fair, huh? Isn't that a shame?" He taunted in your ear. "You were acting like such a brat all night, clinging to my arm like a needy fucking slut, bending over in that little skirt and flirting with other people right in front of me, because you're just so starved for attention at home, aren't you? Fucking pathetic."

Now Eddie was laughing along with him as your ears burned, and he gasped lowly in mock offense, "And here I sat all night thinking you were out there being a good girl for your daddy. Sweetheart, how could you?"

Fuck. I should've known that Steve was gonna rat me out. Every last bit of hope you had for getting Eddie on your side was dwindling away before your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lap, the need inside you only growing with every movement, every pass of your hips over his warm thigh. "I said I was sorry..." You tried to rectify.

"Not good enough," Steve was quick to interject, his hold on your jaw tightening again so that he could correct your line of sight. "Eyes forward, baby. Don't make me ask you again."

Your cheeks burned red with humiliation as Eddie met your eyes with such smug pity. "There you go, sweet girl," He hummed, cradling your cheek with one hand and your hip with the other, pressing you down just a little bit harder against his thigh, grin widening as you quivered. "So you can follow directions." He teased. Steve let out a breathy chuckle in response.

"Master..." You whined, doing your best to resist every last part of you that wanted so badly to avoid eye contact.

"What, not funny? Daddy thought it was pretty funny."

Suddenly, and very much without warning, the palm of Steve's hand came down hard against your ass, making you cry out both in pain and surprise, bucking forward into Eddie's lap in a way that sent a jolt of white hot pleasure through your core. Your eyes rimmed with a thin barrier of tears. Steve spoke into your ear, "I'm getting pretty sick of your attitude, (Y/N). I think you need to lighten up."

Your knuckles whitened around the sides of Eddie's thick leather vest, your pace quickening as you rutted desperately into his thigh in search of that feeling again. Nuzzling into Eddie's palm for comfort in the wake of your spanking, you responded to Steve in the best way you knew how, "I'm sorry, daddy."

He took a moment, as if he were pondering whether or not to accept your apology, but ultimately his grasp softly withdrew from your throat, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Thank you, doll."

But there was something... off about his tone. Under normal circumstances you would have turned to look at him, but you couldn't chance taking your eyes off of Eddie if you wanted this to go even slightly your way. Thankfully Eddie was the one to break the eye contact first, glancing down to where your clothed cunt met his thigh. He smirked, glancing back up at you through his messy curls. "That feel good, baby?"

"Yes, master," You answered obediently, resisting the urge to look for yourself, as you had a feeling he was trying to trick you into getting yourself into more trouble. No matter, you could certainly feel what he was probably talking about-- the seat of your panties was thoroughly slick with arousal, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. "It feels good. S-So good."

"Looks like it-- you're makin' a pretty fuckin' mess all over me."

Your trembling hands travelled lower in place of your eyes, until the palm of your right hand slid over the front of Eddie's jeans; you felt his cock twitch at the contact, stiffening beneath your touch, but still, you waited a second to test whether or not he'd stop you-- or if Steve would, for that matter, who seemed awfully quiet.

But they didn't.

Your heart leapt into your throat with excitement, and you began to palm him through his jeans. You felt him shiver beneath you, and watched as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, oak wood eyes darkening almost to black. He would never admit it, but his cheeks had a rosy glow, too.

But you should have known it couldn't be that easy.

You flinched as Steve's hand came down on your shoulder from behind, and you froze in place, the pace of your hips faltering for a second. "Did I say you could touch him?" He asked.

But your brain was becoming rather fuzzy with lust, and you knew you were slipping further and further into subspace with each passing second. You knitted your eyebrows together, tilting your chin just enough to look at him. Steve's hard-handed approach was starting to get on your nerves. "You never said I couldn't." You sassed.

Steve scoffed, tugging gently at your hair just to throw you off that much more. "I shouldn't have to," He scolded. "Good girls don't just get whatever they want because they want it. Tell me, (Y/N), what do good girls do?"

You continued to massage Eddie's stiffening cock through his jeans, mouth watering as you couldn't seem to get enough of the feeling of him growing hot and hard under your hand. He gripped your hips, taking control of your movements until you were nearly back where you'd left off, and when you realized in a brief moment of clarity that Steve was still waiting on an answer, you sighed in frustration. You could hardly remember what he'd even asked. "Daddy..."

"Tell me," Steve tugged at your hair again, a little harder this time. "Come on, baby, I know you know it. Tell me what good girls do when they want something."

So that's where he's going with this. You huffed quietly, "A-Ask nicely..."

"I can't hear you," He taunted. "Speak up for me, please. Use your big girl voice."

"Good girls ask nicely," You spoke louder this time, making sure to enunciate, letting yourself tip backwards into Steve’s chest as that coil in your stomach began to tighten, trying at least a little bit to hold yourself accountable and withdraw your hands, but you just wanted Eddie to feel as good as you felt. Shakily, you continued, "G-Good girls say please."

With a wicked and devious grin, Eddie began to bounce his leg, watching smugly as you arched and whined in pleasure, breaking your promise to Steve just for a brief second as your eyes fluttered shut, though you quickly corrected. Eddie hummed, "That's right, princess, you know better, don't you?"

You nodded lazily.

Reaching around you, Steve grabbed your arms and propped you upright, forcing them behind your back-- you didn't have a lot of time to wonder what he was doing before cool, familiar metal settled around your wrists, tightening with a few clicks.

So he wasn't just being quiet earlier, he was grabbing our cuffs from the bedroom. Sneaky.

"Y'know, since you can't seem to follow simple directions," His words were cold, but you could practically hear Steve grinning through his tone. "It's a shame, really. I know how badly you wanna touch your Master, but naughty fucking sluts don't get that privilege, do they?"

You shivered, finding it increasingly hard to focus on his questioning as you slipped closer and closer to the edge, but never close enough. You wanted more, needed more, but at this point you had no chance in hell of gaining their permission. It would be embarrassing to even ask now. Instead you bit your tongue, shaking your head softly in defeat as you answered Steve, “No, daddy, they don’t...”

He gave you a patronizing pat to the head. "Now you're getting it."

Eddie was eating up every last second of this interaction, though it was evident that his own arousal was becoming... dire. He continued to bounce his leg beneath you, cradling you so closely toward the edge, but equally so he was shifting where he sat in what you guessed was an attempt to alleviate the pressure. Maybe I can work with this...

"Master," You panted, knuckles white behind your back as you gazed deeply into his round, soul rendering eyes, humping his thigh as fluidly and artfully as you could manage in your state of pleasure. "Please... may I please suck your cock?"

His lip upturned into a grin, his hot body rumbling beneath you as he shivered at your words. Quickly, he glanced over to Steve for input-- after all, it really was up to Steve-- and then he turned back to you, and you could hardly read the look on his face. You wanted so badly to shed him of his clothes, to feel every inch of his hot skin on yours, to do him the kindness of relieving that ache. Suddenly your own clothes felt that much more confining, and you huffed softly in frustration.

Finally, Eddie answered lowly, "Sorry, princess, daddy says no."

Your face twisted into one of confusion and annoyance. "What?" You turned to look at Steve, uncaring of the fact that that technically meant defying him-- he looked infuriatingly proud of himself, arms crossed casually as he flashed you that famous smirk. He should be glad my hands are bound right now. "I asked nicely! I said please!"

"Yes you did, honey, and I'm so proud of you for that," He said, tone dripping with amusement at your reaction. "I just don't think you've learned your lesson. What do you think, Eds?"

You quickly turned back to look at Eddie, who looked equally pompous. "Gotta agree with ya there, Harrington," He declared, and your jaw dropped in offense. Eddie then continued, "Can't just let her get away with whatever she wants."

Now that was the nail in the coffin. You'd lost Eddie to Steve's cause.

By now it was becoming highly difficult to hold yourself together-- you hadn't even finished and you were beginning to feel the bittersweet start of overstimulation, every bump of your clothed clit against Eddie's thigh resulting in a sharp jolt. A fat tear tumbled over your cheek, soon followed by another. You took your lip between your teeth and dug your nails into your palms, shifting in your restraints. "D-Daddy, please, it hurts..."

"I know it does, princess. Maybe it'll teach you a thing or two."

You groaned, hips stuttering-- even a break would have been nice. Of course you had a safe word, and you knew that if you used it they would stop in a heartbeat and dote on you to no end, but you were determined to see this through, to prove to them that you could be good. You would do almost anything to get back into their good graces at this point, and you knew Steve liked a challenge. It wasn't going to be easy, but good behavior must hail a good reward, right?

Your head felt light, fuzzy and borderline mushy with bliss, and as much as you wanted to beg them to ease up, it was probably fair to say you shouldn't hold your breath on that, as if you could even find the words to speak if you tried. It was sort of embarrassing how easily they managed to toy with your brain and body, to walk you right where they wanted you with a level of prowess that reminded you well just how deeply they knew you, sometimes in ways you didn't even know yourself. Eddie's calloused hands smoothed upward from your hips, rings cold on your burning skin as his touch passed slyly beneath your shirt. After so much anticipation, it felt truly divine, and you found yourself arching into him eagerly. He simply chuckled, letting his palms slide over the globes of your breasts, thumbs toying with your already hardened nipples-- he squeezed softly, eyes raking up the length of you as you squirmed.

"So pretty and soft," He whispered to himself, though the praise was not lost on you. "Our sweet little princess... if only you could behave yourself, hm?"

With a frown you sighed, "I can behave, master, I promise... m'trying to be good for you..."

"Oh, you are now, aren't you?" He teased. "Tell me what you want, baby, and maybe I'll give it to you."

A flurry of butterflies swept through your stomach, and you rutted deeper into him. "Master, please, m'so close, need to cum, please..."

"Hm... what do you think, Stevie?" Eddie asked, glancing over your shoulder to your superior. "Think she's earned it?"

The palm of Steve's hand came down softly on your shoulder, caressing the junction of your neck and shoulder with a featherlight touch that only made your body burn hotter. He hummed in thought for a moment, always a fan of dragging things out just to torture you, but surprised you with his response. "Actually, I have a better idea," He said, taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's surprise to pull you up suddenly from where you sat, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You whined pathetically at the sudden loss of stimulation, shivering as the cool air hit your soaked panties, and as Steve turned the two of you around to walk you the short distance to the bedroom, you caught sight of Eddie eyeing the considerable wet patch you'd left on the thigh of his ripped jeans before snapping out of it quickly to follow you.

As you entered the bedroom, you could hardly stop your mind from running wild pondering over what Steve's 'better idea' could possibly be. He could be very hard to read when he wanted to be, one of many devilish tools in his box. When the three of you first began seeing each other you could hardly believe that Steve had it in him, let alone in comparison to Eddie, but it would seem he was more and more determined to prove you wrong by the day.

Not that you were particularly complaining.

Steve delivered you unto the bed somewhat unceremoniously, and as you squirmed to reposition yourself upright with limited use of your hands, you looked up to be met with the sight of the two of them joined at the mouth before you. They had wasted absolutely no time going in on each other, lips colliding in a saccharine display of tongue and teeth, saliva changing hands every time they connected.

Steve playfully took hold of Eddie's bottom lip in his teeth, teasing him with the little bite to catch him off guard so he could nudge his jacket off of his tattooed shoulder. Eddie gave him a curious look but said nothing, opting instead to take it upon himself to disrobe-- slowly of course, after all he was providing a show for two-- and as the last of his clothes were discarded to the floor you were captivated by the extravagance of his naked body. Steve's sly hand travelled lower from where it began at the nape of his neck, releasing a bouncy coil of Eddie's messy hair from around his index finger as he felt over the expanse of his chest, fingertips brushing over Eddie's sensitive nipples, feeling over his soft stomach until he began following his happy trail down to where Eddie really needed him.

You and Eddie both let out a soft gasp as Steve's hand closed over Eddie's woefully hard cock, teasing him with a few lazy pumps of the hand before Steve turned to look at you, thumb rolling over the reddened, weeping head. "You said you wanted to blow him, didn't you?" Steve asked.

Your face burned at the pointed accuracy of that question-- after all, you did indeed say that-- and you nodded eagerly. "Yes, daddy, pretty please," You begged. "Want it so bad--"

"Then go ahead, sweetheart," He finally relented. "Suck your master's cock for me, like a good little whore."

He wouldn't have to tell you twice. You scrambled clumsily to your knees, scooting as closely to the edge of the bed as you could manage, heart racing with excitement, and every beat throbbed through your core. You could hardly wait to take care of him. Eddie stepped toward you at Steve's command, cradling the back of your head so lovingly as he threaded his fingers into your hair and scratched. It took a conscious effort not to start dozing off at his affection-- there was a much more important job to be done, of course. But now you were really wishing you could use your hands.

Your master shuddered at your touch as you lapped delicately at his hard cock, and as you licked a coy stripe from the base of him all the way up to the tip, he scratched your head affectionately again before he gathered your hair away from your face, holding it firmly at the base of your neck-- a favorite look of his on you, communicated all too well by the look on his face. Eddie smirked handsomely down at you, "Open wide, doll, just like I taught you."

Practically on cue your mouth fell open to receive, knuckles whitening behind your back as you took him slowly, thankful that despite your active punishment, Eddie was still forgiving enough to allow you to pace yourself in adjusting to him. With a shaky breath from your nose you sank almost all the way down, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue for one final tranquil moment before he could no longer restrain himself, his hips rutting forward to force himself deeper down your throat. Your eyes slipped shut with a muffled whimper at the force of it, suppressing a gag to the best of your ability-- he'd been teased just as much as you had, to be fair, so you could empathize with how he felt.

He soon found his rhythm, letting out a satisfied groan as he held you in place to fuck your mouth. Your head swam with lust and, well, lowered oxygen intake, concocting an oddly blissful feeling that was somewhat akin to being choked-- you moaned softly around his thick cock, becoming wetter at the intimate pleasure that was allowing him to use you as he pleased, though you could hardly believe that was possible by now. The vibration of the sound you'd made only served to spur him on, drawing a shiver from deep within him. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully.

You felt the mattress dip just behind you, and you couldn't help the way you spooked at the unexpected nature of it-- both of them chuckled at your response. Steve's familiar touch began to toy at the insides of your thighs. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied you might have said something, but alas... He knew you were hanging on by a thread already, this was just cruel. No matter, you didn't have the option to protest this time-- you felt the ghost of his fingertips sliding upward beneath your skirt, until his palm closed around your cunt through your panties. You let out a quiet whine, inadvertently attempting to rock back into his touch, but the more you followed him, the more he pulled away.

You were met with a harsh swat to the ass, making you yip, tears threatening to fall again-- Eddie was not letting up with his bruising pace on your throat, and you were already way too sensitive. This wasn't going to be easy. Steve chided with a click of the tongue, "So greedy tonight, aren't you? Be patient, honey, and if you're good I'll let you finish."

Excited at the prospect of this, you shot him a sideways glance, eyes wide and practically spelling out, you promise?

As if he could read your mind, he rolled his eyes and smiled, "I promise, okay? Just trust me."

What other option did you have but to trust him anyway? You obediently refocused your attention to Eddie, reveling in the sight of his inked body towering over you, fucking ruthlessly into your throat, and you hummed contently, tearful lashes fluttering in awe of him. You flinched when Steve's touch returned to you again, this time tugging at the buttons at the front of your crop top, freeing your chest for them both. You whimpered in pleasure as he tugged and pinched at your nipples, forcing yourself not to arch into his touch, and it would seem this pleased him enough, as he continued to grant you his attention.

This continued for a moment until you were finally able to relax into it, to succumb to the cards you'd been dealt for now. With one hand Steve kneaded at your breast, feeling every shaking breath of yours under his palm, while the other snuck back down between your legs. You jolted when the tips of his middle and ring finger dragged over the seat of your panties, from your slick hole to your aching clit-- you moaned around Eddie's cock, making him shudder and draw his bottom lip between his teeth, a rosy blush settling over his skin. Still, Steve continued.

He rubbed gentle circles over your clit through your panties, careful to give you just enough to reignite your arousal and nothing more, as if he were testing to see whether you'd break his rules-- you didn't, though your legs were starting to get a bit shaky.

"Fuck, princess, love fuckin' your mouth," Eddie moaned, pace stuttering just for a moment as he lost himself in the feeling, but he was quick to find his composure again. He let out a breathy chuckle. "Feels like a fuckin' dream."

You hardly had time to revel in how hot that was before Steve pushed your panties aside and sank a finger inside you. You keened beneath his ministrations, gagging briefly over Eddie's cock as you sucked in a breath the wrong way-- Steve laughed, letting his forehead fall forward to rest on your shoulder, teeth nipping at your skin. He replied to Eddie, "You should feel her pussy right now. So fucking wet."

You fought against every instinct in your body to keep still, tears dripping freely down your face. Steve quickly found that soft spot within you and withdrew his finger, only to return with another one at a measured pace. You let out a muffled sob, eyes rolling back in bliss as electricity rolled over your body in waves. Eddie's thrusts began to slow gradually, chest rising and falling with unequal breaths as he pulled himself from your lips, allowing his hot seed to spill out in thick ropes over your chest with a final few strokes of the hand.

Now that he wasn't holding on to you, however, it became immediately apparent how much you had been depending on him in your attempt to follow Steve's directions. You wobbled pathetically, cock drunk and boneless beneath Steve's skilled hands, and you were lucky that Eddie was quick to catch you as you fell forward.

"Aww, look at you," He mused, catching his breath, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. "You still with us, sweetheart?"

You nodded lazily, arms squirming in your cuffs. Your wrists were starting to burn where the metal bit into you, but you were nervous to ask if they would take them off-- you had gotten so far with Steve by now that you really didn't want to ruin it, especially with such a promised reward for good behavior. But, then it occurred to you--

Eddie, on the other hand, is much easier to convince.

Tilting your head just enough to gaze up at him through your lashes, you tugged at your cuffs again and sighed softly, "I wann'em off, master," quietly enough that you hoped Steve wouldn't notice.

But of course he did. He used his free hand to tug at them right back, regaining your attention as he continued to pump in and out of you. "What do you say when you want something, (Y/N)?"

Dejectedly, you hung your head and mumbled, "Please."

"That's right. Good girl," He praised, reaching into his back pocket to hand the key to Eddie. "I expect you to be on your best behavior once we take these off."

You nodded with an excited grin, "I'll be good, daddy, I promise."

Eddie scratched your head softly before letting go just long enough to unlock the cuffs, a freedom which felt divine now-- you quickly rid yourself of your open shirt, then your sore arms sealed around Eddie's waist like a magnet, and you peppered his tummy with soft kisses both as a thank you, and in pure adoration. Steve was ushering you nearer and nearer to the edge again, so you were grateful for the stability. Your heart hammered beneath your sticky chest as your peak drew closer.

It certainly was tempting to just let it happen, though you felt a responsibility to respect your dues. Shyly, you whimpered, "Daddy, I'm so close... please let me cum, please..."

"Aren't you a quick learner?" He teased, brushing a finger over your clit. "I guess you've earned it."

Your heart swelled instantaneously, your core burning white hot as the evening's worth of pent up frustration finally paid off-- your entire body shook as your high washed over you, and you gushed over his thick fingers with a sinful cry. He was sure to drag it out a bit, of course, pumping his fingers slowly just a few more times to get a rise out of you, and then he pulled them out.

You slumped into Eddie's chest, catching your breath, and he rubbed your back softly for a moment before taking you by the shoulders to lay you properly down on the bed. Taking note of your exhaustion they began to shower your face and body in feather light kisses, attentive hands caressing and massaging and loving. You felt so precious, so special, you couldn't help but melt into their affection. Steve smooched your shoulder, teasing you with a soft bite to your dewy skin, one hand kneading your breast and the other palming your cheek. His eyes fell to yours, and you were taken again. "Aren't you a pretty little thing, hm?" His thumb brushed over your nipple and you shivered, taking your lip between your teeth. "We should get you some pearls."

You nodded into his palm, doe eyes hooked on his, shivering as Eddie's lovely tongue slid across your breast, savoring a drop of his own cum. They were truly unbelievable. Steve stood to finally undress himself, while Eddie, distractible as he is, settled on his stomach between your legs and found himself wandering your trembling body with his mouth. He started with your breasts, of course, careful not to deface any more of his art with his inkling to taste, instead focusing his attention on your nipples. Taking advantage of your freed hands, you threaded your fingers into his hair and basked in the feeling-- he sucked and swirled his tongue over the sensitive buds before traipsing lower, dusting your ribs and tummy with featherlight kisses, passing over your most ticklish spots with his lashes.

He made his way down to your hips, dragging your skirt down along with him, peppering you with smooches and little bites before gazing up at you with his handsome puppy eyes, "Lemme return the favor, baby, please?"

You shuddered-- there was absolutely no way you could say no to that face, and he knew it. You nodded with a soft giggle, granting him your permission.

Eddie's eyes lit up with excitement, and his broad hands slid down to your thighs to nudge them up over his shoulders. His teasing continued only briefly to your inner thighs, only until he'd left you an adequate number of stinging little marks to admire later, before he succumbed to his own need. His tongue slipped teasingly inside you before trailing upward to flick at your clit, and you drew in a sharp gasp, yanking at his thick hair. The motion only seemed to encourage him.

He dragged the flat of his tongue all the way up, teasing you with a quick swirl over your aching jewel before he steadied his grip on your thighs, locking you in place so that he could truly devour you. He moaned with satisfaction, presumably at the taste of your arousal, and the vibration of his deep voice resulted in a sinful whine of your own. You rocked your hips into him in an attempt to chase the feeling, shuddering deeply with every bump of his nose against your overstimulated clit. You felt Eddie jump a bit, and you peeked your hazy eyes open to catch the sight of Steve, newly naked, taking his place at the end of the bed, just behind Eddie. His strong hands had come down to caress Eddie's back as a gentle way to alert him of his presence there-- Eddie tensed just for a moment, suckling your jewel up into his mouth before he relaxed into Steve's touch, tongue fluttering against you.

You watched in awe as Steve kneaded tenderly at Eddie's flesh with one hand, stroking himself with the other, his cock hard and drooling with precum. With a shaking breath, he let go of himself to take hold of Eddie's hips, a lock of hair falling in front of his pretty face. You're not entirely sure you were breathing.

Eddie recaptured your attention as his fingers traced lightly up the length of your thighs, careful not to catch you off guard, which was sweet of him. He drew his fingertips through your folds, slicking himself with your wetness before pushing two slowly inside. After all, he was well aware of your sensitivity, and you got the feeling he wanted to drag this out a bit. He brought his face into you again to lap at your swollen clit, and you quivered, thighs closing around his head, to his apparent delight-- you could have sworn you heard him chuckle with pride.

Taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's distraction, Steve sheathed himself within Eddie at last, and the way they moaned in sync sounded just as sinful as it did heavenly. His hips stilled for a moment, allowing Eddie to adjust to his length before before he gradually began to rut into him. With every collision of their bodies, Eddie's divine mouth and hand rocked deeply into your cunt, making you cry out in pleasure.

Steve's pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving him with an expression that was absolutely carnal, and it was undoubtedly purposeful that his gaze was trained on you, like he was just waiting for you to notice. Shivers rolled over your body and you clutched Eddie's hair just a bit tighter, captivated by the complete and absolute intimacy of it all. You were experiencing such an intoxicating mixture of things, pleasure, need, electricity... your breaths were uneven and accompanied by shaky moans, your muscles tight but weak and your core burning hot with desire.

You were right to trust Steve-- he had a way of settling things in a way that worked for everyone.

Try as you might, there was no possible way you could continue to maintain eye contact with the way your lids begged to fall halfway, vision blurring with ecstasy, eyes rolling back-- but it didn't seem that Steve was worried about that right now. Through your fluttering lashes you couldn't help but admire his face. His tongue flicked out to wet his pink lips which were upturned in a proud grin, cheeks flushed while his hazy, coffee colored eyes traversed the bodies beneath him. His hair was dewy with sweat and falling in front of his face. Steve truly looked like a king.

Your mouth moved before your brain could stop it. "I-I love you, daddy."

Eddie hummed sweetly against you as Steve chuckled softly, not to make fun of you, but because it was so unexpected. That proud grin grew even wider. "I love you too, baby."

Whether he was encouraged by your statement or just chasing his own high, the pace of Steve's thrusts picked up noticeably, fingertips boring deeply into Eddie's hips as he lost himself to the feeling. Your head spun as you experienced the shockwave of it, the way Eddie groaned, his long, skilled fingers reaching so deeply inside of you that you were seeing stars. Your mouth fell open in a string of unintelligible mewls as your second orgasm of the night snuck up on you. You clutched his curly hair at the roots, thighs closing tightly around his head as he savored every last drop of your arousal like he'd been starved of it.

Eddie's lips pulled away from your throbbing clit with a soft pop, resting his cheek against your trembling thigh for brief moment of reprieve as he continued to rock back and forth at the pace of Steve's hips. You gently played with his hair, watching his big brown eyes, glazed over with pleasure, as they spaced out and focused in on nothing. If your muscles didn't feel like they were made of jelly at the moment, you might have repositioned yourself to kiss him, but would have to make do with what you could reach with your hands. You scratched his head softly, heart swelling as he leaned into your palm, and then you let your hand fall lower to brush the backs of your knuckles over his cheeks. He almost looked like he was falling asleep, until he peeked an eye up at you and chided lowly, "What, I don't get an 'I love you?'"

You rolled your eyes with a smile, laughing breathlessly at his absurdity before relenting, "I love you, almighty Dungeon Master."

He lazily nipped at your inner thigh with his teeth, his speech and breathing stilted with mind numbing pleasure as he replied in a blissed out whisper, "I love you too, dollface."

Soon Steve's chest was heaving with uneven breaths and glistening with sweat, a peachy blush settling over his dewy skin. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes fell closed and his grip on Eddie grew even tighter, hips stuttering as he neared his own end. Finally he found it within himself to pull out at the last possible second, pearly cum spilling out over Eddie's back in ribbons. Almost precisely in sync Eddie shivered, teeth sinking into your flesh as his own seed drooled out into the sheets.

Bringing a hand up to fix his hair, Steve let out a quiet chuckle as he looked over the two of you on the bed, spread out completely boneless, covered in cum with twitching legs. "Look at you two," He joked. "What a mess. I just washed the bedding."

#venustext #sintext #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #steddie smut

1K notes · View notes

jooniperbonsai · 3 months

Text

Thanks For The Sub (ksj) | Chapter One

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Chapter One length: 11-14k 18,371 (OOPS LOL)

Release date: Fri. January 19, 2024.

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn (?), coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: After a clip of you sucking at video games goes viral, you've become somewhat famous, with thousands of subscribers now tuning in each week to see you play. Overnight, you've gone from a sexually frustrated grad student who reads smut in her room to a gamer girl (or rather, a not-gamer girl). This would have been the perfect job, except it was never the job you wanted. Desperate for money to pay for grad school, you bounce between your new gig and working at a local restaurant to pay the bills, where your hot coworker-now-boss Seokjin plays many of the lead roles in your sexual fantasies.

Seokjin, two years post losing his fiancé and job within the same day, is tired of the rut he's dug himself into and wants to start over. Now 30 years old, he's stuck managing his family's restaurant where he harbors an insanely inappropriate crush on you on top of carrying one hell of a secret: Seokjin is also known as Jin, a successful gay-for-pay camboy on the streaming site Worldwide Handsome.

When the stress of the upcoming semester and the pressure to stream becomes more than you can handle, you seek out some much-needed stress relief online, only to discover a man who looks a little too much like your boss is staring right back at you.

Warnings for Chapter One: Swearing, cheating (not between main characters), big age gap between lesser characters that can be uncomfy, sex work, gay sex work when the worker is actually not gay (but everyone is chill about it), <- allusions to queer fetishization bc of this, feelings of shame and guilt, feelings of failure/depression, improper restaurant safety procedures, the existential crisis of your late-20s/30s that we all seem to go through, off-handed references to kpop culture including fanfics because I'm a clown and need to call us out sometimes, silly literary tropes, references to pregnancy (NOT reeader), boss-employee power dynamics, allusions to queer BTS members or relationships, cameos of au Seventeen Members (Wonwoo and y/n are besties). NSFW sex stuff: big dick Seokjin (of course), Seokjin with rolled shirt sleeves and cutting things in a kitchen, Daddy Dom Seokjin makes himself known, blindfolds, camming (obviously), f/m masturbation, lots of dirty talk, sex toys, degradation kink, praise kink, sexual fantasies at the worst moment, kink exploration, a lot cum (sorry), I mention the omegaverse as a joke, a sparkly pink dildo, seokjin has a massive collection of toys and he intends to use them, seokjin and reader are constantly horny, reader is kind of inexperienced, implied exhibitionism kink, implied voyeurism, implied public sex.

a/n: it's here (and longer than I intended but oh well!) this fic is inspired by a combination of fics from the lovely writing community on here, the copious amounts of smut I read, a dabble of my friends or my own experience, & the high drama of kdramas. I felt really compelled to write this fic after rereading "tip 143 (for ∞ seconds of love)" by minilouvre on ao3. I feel like the camboy/person trope is so fun to explore and I wanted to try my own take on it with our Seokjin, who doesn't seem to get as many fics written about him but absolutely deserves it. I also wanted to create space for a fic that explores the weird transition of late 20s-30s that both BTS and I (and maybe many of you) have experienced in the last few years. I hope you enjoy! I keep my inbox open, so lmk your thoughts!

xo - h

That’s it baby cum for me.

Such a good little slut for Daddy.

Wish that dildo was my cock.

Fuck this is so hot.

The tip jar was going wild. The mute button tapped long ago, tonight was by far the most successful night camming Seokjin had ever had. He would definitely be able to afford that new gaming PC after this.

Thank god. After three hours streaming, he was getting tired of riding the glittery pink dildo. It was cute–a Christmas gift from one of his loyal subscribers– but admittedly, he hadn’t prepped well enough before putting it in an hour ago, and when he let out a pained groan as he sank down on it, he immediately knew he would be feeling it tomorrow, and maybe the next day.

His only consolation was the five new top-tier subscriptions he’d received while experiencing searing hot pain. He’d clearly appealed to someone’s kink. Well, there was always something for everyone.

Seokjin knew this well. Today was his two-year anniversary since his first livestream on Worldwide Handsome, an international gay live cam site. During those two years he had seen just about every kink requested, from wax play to autoerotic asphyxiation to something called the omegaverse; he’d sifted through the internet and researched enough on each request to decide which ones he’d be willing to perform, and which kinks were too much outside of his comfort zone.

Now, with an apartment full of gifted costumes and drawers full of just about every type of sex toy known to the human population (and perhaps even some aliens if those toys held any accuracy), it was obvious that Seokjin was a knowledgeable and successful camboy who could fulfill so many men’s fantasies.

Except for the fact that Seokjin wasn’t actually gay.

Which is, as it turns out, also something people are into.

Two Years Ago

It wasn’t that Seokjin ever intended to be a gay sex cam worker, much less a camboy at all, but two years, four months, three weeks, and twelve hours ago, Seokjin hopped on a plane after finishing a week-long conference in Los Angeles. He’d booked the first flight out, eager to come home to his fiancé.

During the week, he hadn’t heard much from her. He understood, of course. She’d mentioned before he left that during that week she would be busy catching up on work and finalizing a really important project with a looming deadline. She’d been stressed about it the morning he left, practically shoving him out the door with his suitcase.

But he missed her desperately, especially with the distance between them, and he was hoping he could regain some of that intimacy by trying phone sex. They’d been having less sex recently, probably from the stress of work, but he still craved her every single day, just like he did when they were in college.

For most of his and Soon Yi’s relationship, they were insatiable. In college, they were known for being embarrassingly public in their displays of affection, with Yoongi once catching them in the kitchen at a party with Soon Yi’s hand down Seokjin’s pants and Seokjin’s hands up Soon Yi’s shirt. At first, Seokjin wondered if he always felt so horny because of his raging hormones and the fact that Soon Yi was the first person he’d had sex with. But even three years later, on the night he’d proposed, they had to leave the restaurant he rented out so they could have sex in the car.

Soon Yi was charming. She matched Seokjin’s wit, always ready to keep up with a joke and take it to the next level. She fit in effortlessly with his group of friends, remembering their birthdays and always showing up with a tiny treat for them, even if they hated celebrating. His parents adored her the moment they met her. She was frequently fawned over when she visited his work to bring him lunch or to just stop by and say hello.

When his boss, Mr. Choi met her during the company’s annual gala, he told Seokjin she was enchanting, she was the moon that lit up the evening sky. Mr. Choi was also incredibly drunk when he said this, but he wasn’t wrong.

Soon Yi glowed through Seokjin’s darkest nights like the moon.

That’s why when she denied every video call request he made during his trip, Seokjin knew something was wrong. He felt desperate and needy, something he’d never experienced during their relationship.

As he laid in his hotel bed, touching himself to their memories, a strange need overtook him: he wanted to remind her that despite all the work stress, they always got through everything together and ultimately, being intimate might help with reconnection.

So at the end of his boring conference, he flew back, planning on surprising her when she got home with a delicious meal and sexy massage. Maybe he’d even use those silly novelty heart-shaped handcuffs Jungkook got him as a gag gift.

He was ready to rekindle his love for the moon.

What Seokjin wasn’t ready for was the fact that when he walked through the door of his house, the only moon he saw was that of Mr. Choi’s naked ass as he thrust into Soon Yi on the dining room table.

As it became immediately apparent, Soon Yi’s “work project” was clearly what was playing out before him as he watched the only woman he’d ever been in love with writhe in ecstasy underneath his much older work superior.

It would have been one thing to lose his fiancé, but in witnessing this entanglement, Seokjin also knew he’d lost his job. Due to the blur of his memory, his brain trying to erase what he’d seen, he wasn’t entirely sure when they realized he was home. However, by the time he had grabbed another duffel with some fresh, non work-related clothes from his dresser–after he breezed past his unmade bed that probably didn’t smell like him anymore–Soon Yi and Mr. Choi were half dressed and sheepishly waiting for him near the entry.

Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to look either of them in the eyes as he stated his resignation letter would be on Mr. Choi’s desk the following morning.

When he arrived at Jimin and Jungkook’s apartment to crash, that’s when reality set in. What would he do now? He had no house to live in, no job to make money from, and he just lost the love of his life.

His head was splitting from the idea of car payments, a mortgage under his name for a place he wouldn’t be living in, having to tell his parents, calling the wedding venue and paying that awful cancellation fee on top of not getting his deposit back. The extra zeros in his bank account were depleting fast and it wasn’t like he would be able to sleep on Jimin and Jungkook’s couch forever.

After two weeks of dodging family phone calls, desperately applying to every job that didn’t sound like a scam, waking up in the middle of the night from the lumpiness of the couch or Jungkook’s horrible snoring, Seokjin felt like he was out of options.

“I’m going to call my parents and tell them. Maybe I can work at the restaurant for the time being while I wait for callbacks. I have some money in my savings for my own apartment. I just can’t keep doing this,” he said.

“Hyung, are you sure? You know that we don’t mind you being here as long as you need. Really, it’s not an issue.” Jimin was gentle as always, the concern on his face knitting his eyebrows together.

But Seokjin knew he was avoiding the inevitable, so when he nodded and then called his parents, their warm voices on the other end felt like a sign he’d made the right decision after all.

The next week, Seokjin began working at his family’s restaurant, filling in for shifts that were short, typically in the kitchen. Chopping and prepping the food for the chefs, dish washing, and anything that kept his hands busy were welcome distractions from the painful reminder of what awaited him outside of the restaurant.

Soon Yi was pregnant. Seokjin found out one day when he stopped by to grab a load of his things to bring to his new apartment. While both he and Soon Yi agreed to sell the house, it appeared she was taking longer than him to pack. He figured this was because she would be moving in with Mr. Choi, who lived in the penthouse of a luxury apartment complex downtown.

During their meeting with the real estate agent, Soon Yi had scribbled her new contact information and mailing address onto some forms with Mr. Choi’s details. Wealthy people always operated on their own timeline, one where they could hire a moving company to have everything neatly packed and stored within hours.

Seokjin, however, was limited to an ongoing loop of back and forth where he crammed his car full of silverware, lamps, and his MapleStory figure collection Soon Yi once mocked him for collecting. As Seokjin continued to pack away his belongings, he saw it. In the guest bathroom outside of the kitchen, there were two positive pregnancy tests in the garbage can.

Soon Yi was pregnant and the father wasn’t him. The last time they’d had sex was three months ago. She would have known by now if that were the case.

A wave of nausea rushed over him, and somewhere between bouts of gagging and wiping tears from his eyes, Seokjin realized that things were truly over.

Two months passed, and still he couldn’t find a job. While the restaurant gig was taking care of some of his bills, it was only a matter of time before Seokjin would be unable to take care of himself. At 28 years old, he’d have to move back in with his parents, which was next to impossible in terms of space, not to mention the fact that his brother and wife were living with them while their apartment was being renovated to better accommodate a life transition of their own: they were expecting their first child.

Given his semi-recent discovery, being around a pregnant woman was something Seokjin didn’t particularly want a reminder of.

“I don’t know what to do. Something has to give,” he said one day as he sat in Yoongi’s living room. A thick coat of snow was covering the earth outside, though from the sweat running down the back of Seokjin’s neck, you would never be able to tell. Yoongi always kept his home at the exact opposite of the climate outside, trying to quell the possibility he would have to experience any physical discomfort if he dared to ever leave his house, which he rarely did.

His friends all sat around him, quietly sipping their whisky or beer while the flashing light from the TV casted a kaleidoscope of colors across the coffee table. Hoseok nudged Taehyung, who’d fallen asleep at some point between the long pauses in conversation. Seokjin couldn’t blame him.

It was late, much later than the invitation Yoongi extended typically lasted, but this meetup was different. Everyone had always known Seokjin to be optimistic. From a goofy dad-joke-making 18 year old until now, he’d consistently been a source of light. When Taehyung’s grandmother died a few years back, it was Seokjin who made him first smile again with a spot-on impression of his own halmoni as they slurped bowls of naengmyeon.

His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his smile fading quickly from his face after cracking a joke. His jokes were also darker, less silly and eye-rolling and more self-deprecating and sarcastic. It was like his life was draining from him before their eyes, and it was becoming nearly impossible to stomach.

But concern doesn’t always lead to action, which is why they were sitting around in Yoongi’s living room hoping the whisky would give them some inspiration to find a solution to Seokjin’s problem that he wouldn’t immediately turn down. They’d scoured job sites together earlier, and anything in Seokjin’s former profession only led to him suggesting his next boss better be a woman or else he might have to keep his future girlfriend away from corporate events or dining tables. Other careers in his field were met with similar disdain.

Seokjin wasn’t always this way. In college, he didn’t know what kind of job he wanted or where he wanted to end up, so he majored in acting, hoping that it would lead him where he would eventually develop some sense of passion.

In a sense it did. During an internship with an entertainment company shortly after he graduated, his attention to detail, natural charisma, and flexibility showcased a skillset he didn’t even know he had, which resulted in him being offered a position in their corporate headquarters the following fall. He’d been there ever since.

But Seokjin didn’t want to return to the same life he’d had. So much of his life up to this point had been the same, and it clearly didn’t work out for him, so why continue on? The only issue was that he once again felt like he was 18, trying to decide on a path to follow when he didn’t even know who he was anymore. Nothing was appealing to him.

“What about video game streaming?” Namjoon suggested. “You love games, and you have all the equipment. You used to talk about doing that all the time.”

“Yeah, hyung. You’re also really good at talking and stuff, so it would be fun to watch you do it!” Taehyung perked up at this suggestion, shaking off his sleepiness to contribute to the conversation. “I’ve seen how much streamers make with all their sponsorships and stuff, they don’t even have to work another job!”

The energy in the room picked up slightly as they waited expectantly for an answer.

Seokjin grunted. “Okay, look. I would love to do that. That’s my dream job. But you’re forgetting something important. Those streamers didn’t just jump on the internet one day and then got thousands of subscribers and sponsorships to pay their bills overnight. Some of them took years to build up their following before they even started making money off of it. A lot of people actually lose money from game streaming. And I need money now. I don’t have that kind of time!”

Taehyung deflated, settling himself back into the couch next to Hoseok, who gave him a tender pat on his thigh.

“But what if…what if you did a kind of streaming that made you money pretty much right away?” Jungkook offered quietly.

Seokjin glanced over at his youngest friend, who was holding his empty whisky glass in his hands instead of looking at him.

“What do you mean? Is there some kind of gaming livestream service that does that?” Now Seojkin was curious.

“Um, well, not for gaming, exactly. I was just thinking. Um, you could always do like an OnlyFans or something? I have a friend who does it and she sometimes makes $1000 a night. And that would take care of–”

“You mean being a camboy? Jungkook, seriously? Listen I know we’ve all had a bit to drink, but that’s a ridiculous idea.” Seokjin snorted. “Besides, the market is flooded with people doing their own sex work. Maybe your friend is just really pretty or something to make that much from it, but I highly doubt I would make any money off OnlyFans because no one would even see me!”

Jungkook nursed his bottom lip between his teeth as he was dismissed, his body mirroring Taehyung as he fell back into the couch cushions.

“Hyung is right,” Jimin added finally, having spent most of the night settled quietly next to an even quieter Yoongi. “He wouldn’t make much money on OnlyFans. All the men on there are either ugly or buff, and Seokjin-hyung looks way too gay to appeal to that market.”

Yoongi, who was sipping his whisky as Jimin spoke, spluttered into the glass as he lost his composure, falling into a fit of laughter. From the other side of the room, Hoseok joined in, clapping and gasping for air between laughs.

“Excuse me? What the hell does that even mean? Yah, stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Seokjin fought the smile that was trying to form on his lips. Okay, it was a little funny.

“Well, hyung, isn’t it obvious? Remember that one time we went to a gay bar and all those guys I tried to pick up tried to pick you up instead?” Jimin sighed as he glanced at Seokjin before reaching across the coffee table to grab a handful of cheese balls.

“We’ve been over this. They weren’t trying to pick me up. They just told me I was really handsome and had fuckable lips. And they’re not wrong!”

“Wait when did you guys go to a gay bar? Where was I?” Yoongi cleared his throat, finally recovering from his laughing fit.

“You didn’t want to come, remember? I don’t know why you’re asking this, you never want to go anywhere. Anyway that’s besides the point. Seokjin-hyung and I went to the gay bar and he stole all of the guys I was hitting on because they wanted to make him their baby girl!”

Hoseok wiped a tear from his eye and chuckled. “Yeah, no, hyung I’m sorry but if Jimin is being passed up at a gay bar for you, you clearly give off that vibe. I can see it. You look all soft and plushy and like you would be the perfect bottom.”

Seokjin tried to fight off the heat that was creeping up his neck into his ears, but after a few glasses of whisky, and the ungodly temperature of the room, it was a failed mission to avoid being flushed.

Jimin shot a glare at Hoseok, who shrugged. “What? I meant it as a compliment!”

“Well, thanks I guess. Now I know I look like I’m gay. That doesn’t seem to solve my problem here!” Seokjin looked over at Namjoon for backup, but all Namjoon seemed to be able to do was give him an apologetic smile.

“No, I know, I know. We got off topic.” Jimin said, “Sort of. Listen, like I said before you wouldn’t be successful on OnlyFans, just because of what they market. But you could always market yourself differently. And I’m thinking, if you really need to make money fast, you could always work with what you’ve got going for you.”

The entire room went silent.

“Wait,” Namjoon said, “you don’t mean…” His eyes flitted to Seokjin and widened in alarm.

Slowly, everyone shifted as they realized what Jimin was suggesting, Seokjin evidently being the last one.

How was he supposed to work with what he had when what he had was apparently drawing a different crowd of people from the one he was interested in? What did Jimin mean by marketing himself differently? Was he supposed to just stream on websites that were exclusively for gay men?

Oh. That’s exactly what Jimin was saying.

“Wh-Jimin what the fuck? You mean I should be a gay camboy? I know we just talked about me being attractive to men, but I’m not interested in them that way!”

Jimin huffed. “Well obviously I know you’re not gay. Otherwise we might not be in this situation.”

Seokjin winced.

“Sorry, that was unfair. It’s just…hyung, you’ve been so not like yourself lately. And you’re right, something needs to change. I know you’re not gay, but this still could help. Haven’t you heard of gay for pay? Like in porn and stuff a bunch of straight actors will fuck each other or some gay guy because it pays more than straight porn. It’s the same thing.”

“Only you don’t have to actually fuck anyone. Maybe you should remind him of that,” Yoongi added.

“Right, exactly! Look, you don’t have to do it. But it could help you get by and pay bills in the meantime until you find something else that you want to do. And there’s a lot of sites where you can stream even once and get a direct payout the next day. It might be worth a shot.”

Seokjin thought about it for a moment. It didn’t sound completely awful. From what he’d seen from the times he saw cam sites out of curiosity, most of what happened was masturbating and talking to people. And he didn’t hate people. But something about it made him nervous.

“I don’t know if I’d be okay with being watched. That seems embarrassing.”

“Oh please, the number of times you and Soon Yi fucked basically in public is astronomical. You’re practically an exhibitionist,” Hoseok teased.

“That was different! I was with her! Now it would be everyone watching just me up close and personal. Namjoon-ah, talk some sense into them. This is crazy, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it actually is, hyung,” Namjoon said lightly. “Jimin-ah and Hobi have made some good points. And I think…I think if you weren’t even just a little bit curious you would have immediately said no instead of going back and forth with them over it like how you flat out said no to the other stuff. Maybe you’re feeling a bit shy because it’s been a little while and you are trying to heal through the breakup and stuff, but you also don’t have to do it or you can do it once and change your mind after if you want.

“It just doesn’t seem to me like this is the worst option for you. You get to talk to people, you can maybe have fun. You don’t see the people on the other side anyway, so if you wanted to pretend they were girls instead of guys you could, or turn off the comments probably? It’s not real sex though. And even if it was, is that so wrong? It’s not like you would be cheating on Soon Yi for doing this. I mean-”

“Thanks Hyung! I think we get it!” Jimin interjected, raising his eyebrows at Namjoon as if to say shut the fuck up.

Seokjin felt his stomach sink. Is this why he was panicked at the thought? It wasn’t real sex, but it almost felt like he would be doing something wrong by doing this. Not morally against himself, but someone else. Maybe he was still hanging on to Soon Yi in ways he didn’t fully realize.

He felt almost like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest and forbidding him from moving on. What would happen then if he tried doing this for himself? Would the weight still feel the same? He wanted to know.

“Ah, fine, I’ll think about it.” He looked over at Yoongi, who looked relieved that the conversation was nearing its end. “You have anything to add to this? A final voice of reason?”

Yoongi snorted as he jumped up to stretch. “Nah. Except, as your former roommate, ‘Seok’s got a point about the exhibitionism thing. You were way too into showing me your dick all the time and walking around naked when we roomed together.”

The room erupted into laughter, Seokjin himself joining. This time his smile didn’t immediately fall from his face.

Slowly, everyone else stood, bodies unwinding from furniture and each other. While Jimin ordered Jungkook and himself a taxi, Seokjin waited with him.

“My only issue is, how do I pretend to be gay? Won’t they know I’m not?”

Jimin scoffed as he nudged a sleepy and tipsy Jungkook into his shoes. “I don’t know hyung. You have an acting degree. Use it.”

A few weeks later, Seokjin held his first stream, nervously engaging with the handful of viewers trickling in and tried to deflect the discomfort he felt in his new spotlight.

“Um, hi everyone. My name’s Jin. Thanks for coming. You can probably tell, but this is my first time and I’m really nervous. I hope you enjoy the show.”

Seokjin decided to shorten his name for his streams to help him feel like he was embodying a different persona, someone named Jin who may actually be gay. It wasn’t a big change, but it was nice to give himself some separation from Seokjin, the guy who was doing gay for pay to afford a new life.

Unfortunately, Jimin’s suggestion for Seokjin to act wasn’t as easy to implement as he’d hoped. Within the first half hour, viewers of his stream had noticed he was still nervous, and started asking him questions to get him to unwind, and hopefully undress.

“Ah, yeah, uh, anal. I’ve done it once or twice, it’s nice.” It wasn’t a lie, he’d tried anal a few times with Soon Yi and did find it nice, but he also knew that this wasn’t what the question was asking.

“Do I have a boyfriend? No, I’m single.”

Slowly he began undressing, the heat of his half-truths causing him to feel like he was burning up.

“Are you really gay? Well, what kind of question is that? I’m here aren’t I?”

That question seemed to satisfy his audience for another half hour, until a new thread of people trickled in, asking him the same questions. He was running out of ways to answer.

I don’t care if you’re straight. You’re still hot.

When he read this comment, he exhaled deeply. And from that one reaction, a flurry of others joined in.

Yeah, idc either. You’re still so pretty.

So hot if u were straight. Maybe I’d convert u. ;)

I’d let you put it into my ass and let you pretend it was a pussy.

For some reason, these comments began to fuel him. The attention was kind of nice. It reminded him of how he used to feel.

Maybe he didn’t need to act gay to get what he wanted. Maybe he could just enjoy the pleasure of the compliments and company and see what happened from there? The weight he had been carrying around in his chest was feeling a bit lighter, and the comments were helping distract him from the pinches of guilt that he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t.

Here, he was Jin, a sexy, flirty guy who could shine in the sky of his own making.

Jin, the moon.

That’s it. He was the moon.

Present

“That’s it, give it to me. Please, I’m gonna cum.” Seokjin hoped the words he moaned at his camera were true. He was so tired, and he wanted to be free from the stupid dildo.

Lately, Seojkin has been having a hard time cumming on stream. He wasn’t sure why. For so long it had never been an issue, but streaming had begun feeling less like a fun way to relieve stress and more like an actual job.

Never before was he so popular with his stream, and while it’s nice to see a larger deposit being made into his bank account each week, every time he came home from the restaurant and knew he was scheduled to do a cam show, his stomach knotted up with dread.

The last time he felt this feeling was a little over two years ago, when hopping on planes to fly to mundane conferences or sitting in board rooms for morning meetings consumed all his time. Even during the period he was jobless, there was a tiny part of him relishing the fact that the work-related dread was over.

And it returned with a vengeance. Seokjin tried everything, ventured into new kinks and even the game features of the website with the hope that he would feel the rush he used to love from streaming. But nothing really worked. It was now just his job.

He didn’t even want to stream for so long tonight, but because it was his anniversary, he wanted to make sure he ended on a good note to thank his viewers.

One thing Seokjin’s viewers loved was seeing him cum. It was the part of his stream when he always earned the most tips. Jimin had been right.

If Seokjin knew anything now, it’s that he had many assets worth using to finance his life, and his pretty face coupled with his big dick seemed to work for him.

But even as he stroked himself, precum dripping down the head of his cock, and even though he was riding the dildo in a way that would hit his prostate and finally give him an easy out, he could feel the edge pulling away.

“Fuck,” he grunted. He was losing it. He doubled down, rocking his hips to see if hitting a different sweet spot would do the trick. But it was to no avail; his cock was softening.

On his nightstand, his phone pinged, which only could mean one thing. Seokjin always turned his do not disturb mode on during his work hours, only allowing phone calls from his family or one alert from an app to pierce through the silence. This one was the alert.

It meant Y/N was online and you had just started a live stream of your own.

You were one of this month’s top gaming streamers, bringing in more viewers than Seokjin had ever received during his top months of streaming. You were popular not because you were good, but because you were the exact opposite.

You were awful at most games you played, jolting at jumpscares over and over, losing in first rounds of Fall Guys or Dead by Daylight. One time you jumped into a game of Fortnite and were eliminated by a potty-mouthed child the second you landed. Your jaw hung open as the tiny, high pitched voice called you a bitchass before falling into a fit of laughter that had Seokjin himself in tears.

You were inspiring. Sexy. You received dozens of comments every stream about how pretty you were or how great your laugh was, which you often didn’t read out loud but always offered a humble nod and show of thanks when you did. There was something about you that hit up the world around you, and though he wouldn’t so much as utter it out loud, Seokjin had a massive crush on you.

But Seokjin was also sort-of-not-really your manager. Unlike all the people pining over you in your comment section wishing they knew you in real life, Seokjin actually did. He saw you three times a week at his family’s restaurant that he was strong-armed into managing while his parents took the opportunity to finally travel and see other parts of the world.

Seokjin stayed, not because he needed the money. Not that his pay was all that much anyway.

Camming was incredibly lucrative for him, cementing his income in a way that allowed him to pay rent in a very nice apartment downtown. Seokjin was also someone who had always been smart with his finances and knew how to invest in the best trends.

When his house with Yoon Si finally sold (after four months of her taking her sweet time to gather her last belongings and sign off on him putting it on the market), Seokjin took his cut and applied it toward a better streaming setup and some lower level stocks…and a special edition MapleStory figurine to celebrate the new chapter in his life.

Seokjin’s family never seemed to question how he was able to afford his fancy apartment given how much money he made at their business. Well, they did ask once, but Seokjin orchestrated some simple lie saying he worked in cryptocurrency, and that seemed to be enough of an explanation for his family. No one wants to know how crypto works, which in the end worked in his favor.

He’d planned to leave the restaurant about 8 months ago, but then you showed up one day asking about a job. The restaurant was within walking distance to your university, where you were getting your master’s degree in early childhood education. While the program you were enrolled in had some funding, you’d told Seokjin’s mother you were a student and in need of work. The following Monday, Seokjin walked in and found you with an apron tied around your waist, your bright eyes and smile shining back at him. He couldn’t bring himself to leave after that.

A few months after you’d started working there, Seokjin and you had become somewhat friends, sharing stories about past jobs (minus some key details on Seokjin’s part), student observations you had to do for school, and your interests. You mentioned casually you were a livestreamer for gaming, never alluding to how popular you actually were.

Eventually, Seokjin convinced you to give him your username, batting his eyelashes dramatically and promising he would be your cheerleader. For some reason, that seemed to work, and later that night, Seokjin tuned in to your stream, one man among the thousands. From that moment on he let his crush become a safe thing where, like his own viewers, he could fantasize from behind a screen. Maybe soon he would actually ask you out on a date, taking your coworker relationship and transforming it into something more.

And then a month ago his parents left, leaving him with the roles and responsibility of manager. Which meant he was an authority figure who could arguably do whatever he wanted. Similar to how his boss in a way was an authority figure who could get whatever he wanted. That idea turned Seokjin’s stomach sour. He could never do anything about this crush now, not while you worked underneath him. It was too familiar and distorted, and he never wanted you to be in the position he was once in. It was completely inappropriate.

But try telling his dick that.

Two days ago, Seokjin witnessed you in the kitchen bending over to pick up onion peels that had fallen to the ground. You definitely weren’t aware, but your skirt had ridden up a bit while you were working, and that meant he could see a tiniest delicate trim of lace on your blush colored panties.

And despite the fact that Seokjin was 30 years old and had believed he’d gotten past his boner-in-public-just-from-seeing-underwear era during his teen years, he was evidently wrong. Because those panties and soft looking curve of ass didn’t just belong to anyone; they belonged to you.

This wasn’t the only time he got hard for you at work. Sometimes on days when there were no customers, he would watch you study at one of the tables, where you were prone to stretching your body after long periods of staring down, trying to unknot the tense muscles caused by sitting almost completely still as you tried to comprehend what you were reading.

During those stretches, you would often let out the most sexual moans and sighs as you felt relief and it was enough to have Seokjin tucking himself under his belt like a horny school boy. God, what he would do to hear you moan underneath him, because of him.

He thought about recording you stretching. He was addicted to your voice, your soft sighs. It would be so easy to just “leave” his phone in the booth behind you. Then he could hear it forever while he imagined what else made you moan. Did you like your nipples sucked? Did you sigh when you were being stretched open and felt full? How did you taste?

And then Seokjin pulled himself together and realized how sickeningly perverted he was to be thinking about you like this as he stood hard and aching in the middle of his parents’ fucking restaurant.

He wanted you. So much so that now as he worked his cock in his fist, he let himself fall more into fantasy, one where you were watching, curious about the many toys and gifts around his apartment, wondering how you could reach the limits of what you wanted and needed to make you scream. He imagined that across town, you weren’t firing up your computer for a night of cozy games, but rubbing your pussy at the same speed he was stroking himself, wet and begging for him to cum all over those gorgeous tits, that wet tongue–

Seokjin groaned as he came, his entire body trembling as a thick load erupted all over his hands, chin, and chest. Normally he could control the direction to minimize the mess but this orgasm caught him a bit off guard, almost completely lost until it crept up with a burning need and coated him. He hadn’t felt that good in a while.

As he panted and focused his eyes back onto the screen, his comments were flooded with praise and tips, viewers exclaiming how this might have been his best orgasm they’ve ever seen, which was saying a lot considering some of his subscribers had been with him from the very beginning, and there had been some pretty fantastic orgasms.

He wouldn’t deny it, though. He felt looser in his joints, calm washing over him and breaking apart the bitterness that was in his gut from how lackluster streaming had been recently. He wiped his chin with a grin and reached for the towel next to him, ready to wrap up his show. As he delivered his thank yous, one comment drifting through the chat stopped him dead in his tracks. His post-orgasmic high was crashing as panic flittered into his stomach.

Did you guys hear him moaning a name as he came? Who the fuck is Y/N?

She had to leave. If the king couldn’t overcome his malice, she knew she couldn’t stay. No amount of love she had for his son was going to make him see that. She’d told him she loved him despite the scar that ran over his left eye and down his soft cheek. She vowed to be good enough to marry him, do whatever it took. Yet the king and queen had laughed at her, had their guard hold his foot on her back so she couldn't stand up from her deep bow.

Laughed as they stood from their thrones to welcome the guest’s arrival: the consort for their son. The prince stood with them, silent as he followed them through the open doors. Quiet like how he used to be back in the first days of when she met him last summer. In memory, she couldn’t even fathom how he was anything like the man she’d grown to love. Yet, looking up from the pulp of the floor, she’d seen him return to that man.

Hadn’t the days she’d spent walking those palace gardens with him been enough? They’d stood together under the plum blossom tree in the middle of winter and he’d promised that he would love her even while the buds were hibernating.

“We can watch them become flowers together in the spring,” he’d said.

He had taken her to his bed that night. Used his sensuous tongue to lap at her sweet nectar. He devoured her heart and soul. Climaxed with her and held her through the heavy snow.

Where was that man now? She didn’t know.

She waited until well after nightfall, when even the latest bird twitterings were silenced by the call of sleep. She knew she couldn’t bring much, but she managed to slip into the kitchen after dinner to pull together a few scraps for the road. Where would she even go? The nearest village was at least a two-day walk and if he sent his men for her, she knew word would spread before she’d even arrived.

Unless he didn’t send anyone for her, she realized, her stomach dropping with nausea. He wouldn’t send anyone for her. She knew this. It’s why Prince August stood in the throne room, lethal as ever, even with no sword in his belt. August. Sugar. Whichever person he decided he was in the moment. Her nickname for him didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t sweet. His desire for power showed the bitterness in his heart. He had given in to his parents’ wishes, despite the times he swore he would never give them the satisfaction.

He was cruel. But even worse, she believed he wouldn’t be. She was a fool.

It was the darkest part of the night when she left the servant’s quarters. She’d miss the ladies and all their kindness, but she knew she couldn’t serve August his breakfast in his bedchamber after this. After knowing that the sheets she once laid in with him were now being laid in by someone else.

She took the back route, near the interior of the garden, ducking behind the ornamental shrubs and skirting past the watchpost the guards usually abandoned at this hour with ease. All that was left was to make it through the courtyard and she would be free.

She padded her way along the path. A light breeze of the pre-dawn was catching, fluttering the branches of the newly blossoming trees around her and blowing petals in their wake. She caught one in her fingertips and fought a sob. Plum blossoms.

Should she take one with her? For the memory? So that she could always have a part of him with her?

No, she decided. It would be too much to remember this. Once she passed through those gates, she would not be the same woman she was. Holding her breath, she let the petal go, hoping wherever the wind carried it, it would find the peace she too was looking for. It swept to the end of the courtyard, over the gate that was now her future.

This was a sign, she mourned. Not all promises were meant to be kept.

With a final look at the place she’d learned to call home, the man she’d learned to call home, she opened the gate, ready to forge into the unknown.

“Petal,” she thought she heard his call, his nickname for her. Though when she turned around, he was nowhere to be found.

She must’ve imagined it, wished for the impossible. As she took steps through the gate, she looked out at the world around her, the plum petal a few feet in front of her. Maybe she would take a piece of him with her, after all. It was too tempting not to.

She moved, trying to ignore the tug she felt back toward the palace, the invisible string of fate she thought that tied her to August trying to tangle her back in. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t go back.

She bent down, clutching the petal tenderly in her palms and letting the first tears fall.

“So that’s it, hm? After all that, you weren’t even going to wish me goodbye.”

She rose swiftly, whipping around to the voice’s owner.

There, leaning against the outer palace wall, was August.

The alarm on your phone chimes, pulling you from the book in your lap. You’ve been reading all afternoon, the sun now taking its final bow before plunging the world into darkness. Soon you’ll have to turn the lights on, then it will be time for work. On your only day off.

You groan, stretching your neck as you allow yourself to come back to reality.

To some, it would be hard to call your job “work”. Many people dreamed of being professional game streamers. Who wouldn’t want to be paid to sit online, play games, and talk to people?

You don’t. That’s the problem.

Your ascent into gaming stardom was a fluke. About 9 months ago, you were in between semesters for your grad program and looking for ways to unwind. Your oldest friend, Wonwoo, was a pretty successful streamer who often hosted game nights to play with his viewers and friends.

You frequently watched his streams, letting his soft voice be the perfect background noise as you studied and formulated the next lesson plan or behavioral assessment. You’d known Wonwoo for what felt like forever at this point, being his first subscriber, first moderator, and first kiss (not in that order). But your middle school kiss outside of the convenience store never led to anything more than that, as desperately as you’d wanted it to.

Once he moved across the country, you let your crush die with the distance. The years turned faster and your twenties were spinning by with the revolving door of lovers you’d watch him pine over, cry over, and in one case, almost marry. Streaming then became one of your main forms of connection, and your role as his moderator tied some part of you to him out of loyalty. To imagine him as anything other than a friend now feels ridiculous.

But that loyalty you have is also to a fault. When Wonwoo’s usual streaming friends bailed one night during a tournament, you subbed in…for a game you didn’t even know how to play.

And to make matters worse, this was a game that required talking to each other on-stream, which meant you not only sucked major ass at this game, but Wonwoo’s 700 viewers that day were also subjected to your constant frustrated squeaks, swears, and embarrassed maws as you tried to key-smash your way to victory but ended up throwing the entire team’s game with your incompetence.

Wonwoo wasn’t mad, though many others were. He knew what he was getting into when he agreed, and his streams operated with very few rules: no hate, no spam, and we are in this to have fun. And he did have fun. By the time the first round was over, he and most of the chat were losing it over your commentary.

As he wiped tears from eyes and took in a breath, he read his comments. “‘Damn, I never heard a chick threaten someone with a plunger like that before’. Yeah, I’ll give it to you, Y/N, you got really creative with your insults in that. Hey, PartyShitty thanks for the sub! ‘I can’t BREATHE’, yeah I’m still trying to get it together. W00000000000000000ziiiiii–damn that’s a lot of zeros in that username–thanks for the 5000 points! ‘Is she hot’ uh, I mean, I don’t—

“Oh shit, LetsGetIt15, thank you for gifting twenty subs! ‘Please, Y/N, start your own channel. I’ll be the first subscriber.’ Actually, no, I’ll be. But really, that's not a bad idea.”

Wonwoo navigated the rest of his stream with ease that night, but after it was over, he called you to try to convince you to start your own channel.

“It could help with school at least! Or you could get that special edition of that one book you like with the dragons or the blue alien porn stars or whatever it is.”

“They’re neither of those things, they’re actually–”

“Whatever they are! The book that has people fucking nonstop and some plot. You know, the special edition cover that you keep talking about in your close friend story that you won’t buy?” Wonwoo said. “The point is, if you start streaming you could finally buy it and then stop talking about it and I won’t need to see sections about how hot you think their alien or fairytale or demon whatever cocks are.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his exasperation. “That won’t stop with me getting that book, just so you know. And if it bothers you so much, I can take you out of the close friend story. I didn’t even know you looked at my stories that much.” You didn’t know he still used Instagram at all actually. He very rarely posted. He mostly lived on his Discord channel talking about games with his subscribers or other friends.

Regardless, it was nice to know that he was trying to be aware of your interests, even if it was incredibly embarrassing. Although the copious amount of smut you read wasn’t something you always wanted to broadcast to the public, you’d still made some friends from online book communities over the last few years and enjoyed keeping them in the loop of your reading list.

Also, Wonwoo had a point. Streaming could help paying some of your school expenses…or get you more books. You told him you’d think about it, and while you weren’t completely in love with the idea of streaming, it did provide you with some steady income until you landed your job at the restaurant.

After that conversation, you haven’t discussed smut or cocks since, and you’re honestly relieved, not because Wonwoo is hard to talk to about things, but because you are. Which is why streaming always feels a little uncomfortable and your position ironic, because you can barely have conversations successfully unless you really know the person to ramble about your interests to, or you can occasionally eke by with small talk.

But streaming requires the spotlight being on you in some way at all times. It’s your face that is fixed to the corner of the screen, monitoring your every reaction. It’s your voice that echoes into the mic and responds to your chat. Sure, you have mods and some streamers don’t interact with their chat at all, but you don’t want to be like that. You’ve been on the other side before, and know that most people are just lonely and looking for connection. .

From the moment you decided to do this, you were aware that because you were now a “gamer girl” you would be subjected to the three extremes of the comment section: chronic oversharers who tell strangers all their personal baggage perhaps in the hope that you will assume some role of therapist to them, people coming to insult your gaming (which is the point so that can’t impact you) or physical appearance, or sexually explicit comments.

Over the months, you’ve seen many things flitting by on the screen, deleted in haste by your trusty mod squad, but it doesn’t stop the fact that you still see them.

Those things you can handle. They are impersonal and a direct copy-paste of the same thing.

But when people compliment you? That makes you want to bury yourself under your covers and never come out. Because the compliments are always personal and touching a part of you that is authentic.

The people in your chat want to know you. They want to know what kind of music you like, your favorite foods and books. They ask if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend or partner, compliment your hair or the shirt you’re wearing or your gaming setup. It feels intimate. Almost like you could find these people and touch them and let them know you.

But they can’t. Because the only thing that drew them to you, the part where you’re this funny, positive gamer chick who sucks at video games but is down for whatever, isn’t real.

Spring Day Streams Y/N is a persona. You don’t stream because you’re her. You stream because you have to be her in order to survive.

And now she’s taking up more time. Last month’s streams landed you Streamer of the Month, which thanks to the exposure, brought dozens of new subscribers and thousands of points, and that helped take care of some of your expenses for the new semester. Some. You’re still behind on your credit card bill.

Also, more people means more expectations for streaming. So you’ve kicked up your streaming schedule from twice weekly to three times a week, with you occasionally hopping onto Wonwoo’s channel even if you aren’t streaming to mod.

When you aren’t glued to your computer, you’re usually at the restaurant, in a cramped kitchen where you do the prep work, often alongside him, your sexy coworker-but-now-boss, Seokjin.

The man you are quietly obsessed with. You can’t think about Kim Seokjin without thinking about all the positions you want him to fuck you in.

Which is also why you’ve been devouring books lately. When you’re home, you throw all your energy into the escapism they provide, especially ones where you can get yourself off to whatever fantasy Seokjin effortlessly slips into.

For every hot mob boss, corrupt CEO, longterm best friend, dragon-rider, fairy, demon, alien, ghost, or hockey playing love interest you can find, Seokjin is sure to fill the role. A hot merman looking for someone to help him grow legs and something else? Seokjin. A Grinch who inherits his family’s Christmas tree farm and discovers how much he loves to ho ho ho? Seokjin. A god who tears apart the underworld to find his lost lover, and then during the reunion fucks her on the throne of Satan while she wears the crown? All Seokjin.

Unfortunately, his transition from co worker to boss has made your fantasies all the more dirty.

It’s been incredibly difficult for you to handle the fact that any flirtation you two previously shared in the months before he was your boss can no longer continue. But it’s also incredibly hot.

Fantasies of him eating you out on the counter have been replaced with the fantasy of him shoving you in the back office and fucking you on the desk while wearing one of those perfect-fitting dress shirts he often parades around in.

And when he rolls up the sleeves to help in the kitchen? Fuck, it’s humiliating how wet you get.

The entire thing is pathetic really. He’s just standing there half the time, lecturing everyone on proper kitchen hygiene and ensuring one of the cooks doesn’t use expired seasonings for his eomma’s secret sauce.

And you’re standing next to him clenching your thighs together because when you’re this close, you can just make out the freshness of his cologne and feel the heat of his body close to yours.

When someone fucks up, he has a tendency to take over, chopping with unmatched precision and self assurance, trying to keep his voice even and usually failing as everything builds in intensity until he’s accidentally speaking at a million miles an hour and lecturing until his face turns red.

If someone were to pass by the shop, they’d probably mistake his shouting for anger, but you’ve come to understand Seokjin is just passionate about things. Usually when he comes down from his tangent, he’s embarrassed and apologizes, and not long after the entire staff is laughing along with him as he cracks a joke at himself for his inability to tone it down.

Which to you makes him even hotter. Seokjin is able to see his faults and work with them, not against them. He holds himself accountable. He’s nothing like the haughty men you’ve gone on brief dinners with after downloading dating apps for the hundredth time while you’re drunk. He’s actually funny, knowing the right way to use humor and tell jokes, never at someone else’s expense, and definitely without being disgustingly crude.

All those clowns you suffered through drinks with always made comments and digs at other women or referenced their cock like they were setting up some goofy scene from porn and you would find it hilarious and endearing.

Seokjin isn’t like that at all. He probably refers to his dick as a penis and would blush to high heavens if he knew how horny you are for him. He’s unwound you, and he has no clue. Maybe if it hadn’t been literal years since you’ve last had sex you could tone it down.

With working all the time and going to school, it’s already been hard to even go on singular dates here and there. And since the prospects were frankly awful, sex is just something that has had to go onto the back burner for a bit, but you seemed to scorch the fucking pan by forgetting to turn the heat off and now you are burning and hungry.

With a final sigh, you put the book down, annoyed that you didn’t have time to finish it today or at least get to a good part where you could insert yourself into the role of the palace servant and Seokjin as the Prince. Based on the reviews, there’s sure to be a hot sex scene coming up involving using a sword in a particular way that has piqued your curiosity.

In a moment of depravity earlier, you’d snaked one hand down the front of your panties to rub a few damp fingers around your clit to take the edge off.

You check the time on your phone, already aware that you don’t have time to cum before streaming. You already hit the snooze button twice. The spicy stuff will have to wait.

Defeated, you stand up, turning on the lights in your apartment as the sun finally fades away and the dark creeps in. You eat a bowl of cereal while doing your makeup, what little of it you want to put on. Finally, you fire up your PC, trying to ignore the irritation you’re already experiencing from being so high strung and unsatisfied.

The second this stream is over, you’re going to make sure you cum until you pass out. Until then, it’s time for work.

“At what point am I supposed to become good at this again?” You ask Seokjin as you attempt (and fail) to julienne carrots.

When you arrived at work at an ungodly hour this morning to prep for the weekend rush, Seokjin had already started the coffee.

Your empty cup now idles next to your scrap pile of too-wide carrot blocks that’ll have to be pulverized by the blender and repurposed in another recipe.

Seokjin chuckles as he buzzes about the kitchen, reaching tenderly around you to grab your mug for a refill.

“That all depends on how much you practice.”

“So should I expect a large carton of carrots to be delivered to my home this evening with the instructions to have them julienned by Monday?” You tease, as you split another carrot down the center, half of it flinging off the prep counter and onto the floor.

Seokjin smirks and bends down. He picks up the carrot and deposits it into the garbage bin. “Two cartons, actually. Given how many carrots we’ve lost already today, I need to make sure at least some of our inventory lands on the customer’s plate and not just into the trash.”

“How considerate of you,” you chide, and put down the knife, reaching out to accept your newly filled coffee mug. Seokjin’s hands are red from the constant washing and chopping of potatoes, which you recently learned he’s allergic to.

As well as garlic, and you’ve already voluntarily peeled and minced that for the day. That much you can do without guidance, but anything besides your imprecise chopping is on the list of knife skills Seokjin wants you to improve upon.

This is fair, given how dangerous your previous cutting methods have been. Once Seokjin saw the way you tried to stab at a watermelon, it was over. Now you often come in an hour and a half early before each shift to practice.

And to also be alone with Seokjin before he is forced from the kitchen to deal with other duties.

“Thank you,” you say, as you take the first warm sip and shiver. It’s freezing outside, and it’s only supposed to get worse.

There’s snow forecasted for the weekend, which could mean one of two things: everyone stays home and avoids driving, or they all leave the house in one show of silent agreement and fill every nook and cranny of the restaurant to order bowls of sundubu jjigae or crisp and hot pajeon.

Seokjin predicts that because a warm front is moving in afterward, people will utilize one of the only days of snow you’ll likely get this winter to gather together.

Valentine’s Day is soon, and the city has started to prepare. Storefronts have begun switching out new year sale signs for pink and red heart motifs, with spas and restaurants offering couple specials. The perfumeries have moved from campaigns advertising the perfect Christmas gift to ones of sexy, decadent colognes sure to transform a man into his inner beast.

And then there’s the chocolate. It’s like the air in the neighborhood the restaurant resides in smells different, less greasy and grimy and more sweet. Everywhere you turn there’s pastries, cakes, bonbons, crepes, chocolate dipped nuts and other confections that just looking at makes your teeth sore.

With the district washing itself in a pink glow, more and more couples have been braving the cold, landing in the restaurant after weighing themselves down with shopping bags.

You’ve seen what’s in them, often tripping over or kicking at least one bag each shift while you attempt to bring an order to the table and spilling the contents. This year seems to be popular for matching couple outfits. You’ve seen a lot of pairs in their early twenties wearing or recently acquiring sweaters that have the same characters or color combinations. With the temperatures dipping into a bitter chill this week, some have elected to wear cute but inconvenient sets of mittens that allow them to hold hands as they stroll.

When it snows in the city, the world gets quieter, cleaner. Even if people shuffle around in the bustle of novelty experiences, how they show their love, from brushing the snow off each other’s coats or taking kissing selfies in front of snow fallen trees, it always makes you feel a little softer, a little more at peace.

Snow is really romantic.

“What?” Seokjin asks, which alerts you to the fact that you’ve been staring at him as you let your thoughts run, a dopey grin splattered across your face.

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about how much I love the snow.” You break eye contact, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

“Ah, yeah. It’s supposed to start soon,” he looks at you thoughtfully before looking back down at the tofu blocks he’s draining.

A silence falls on you, the once normal pause now becoming a bit awkward.

“What do–”

“I just–”

You both stumble over each other, trying to fill the unnatural pause you’ve reached, which has you laughing and Seokjin cracking a wide grin.

“What were you going to say?” he asks, and then motions for you to get back to your carrot desecrating.

“Ah nothing. You were going to ask something?”

You slice a carrot, this time less match stick and more shaved. Damn.

“Oh, um. I was going to ask you what you like about the snow. That thought kind of came from nowhere and I was trying to follow.” His voice is careful, as if he’s trying not to offend you. Is he nervous?

Your mouth draws into a thin line. Can you risk saying what you were just thinking? Is it inappropriate to talk about romance in front of your boss, who you’ve thought about kissing in the snow at least three times a day? You don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You’re aware of the ways in which Seokjin’s new position of authority weighs on him.

While he’s always had more authority due to being the owners’ son, it isn’t like Seokjin walked around the place with a power complex before his promotion. You two had become something akin to friends in the months you’ve worked together, falling into occasional flirty banter as you shuffled around each other to mop floors or wash dishes.

You know he used to work for a large company a few years ago but quit to help his family with their restaurant. You also know he loves MapleStory and is always showing you his newest splurge from their online shop or the latest piece to his collection.

He doesn’t have any pets, but sometimes debates getting a dog and then when shown support, he dismisses it with boisterous laughter, talking about how he doesn’t have the time and if he ever wants to get a dog, he will have to buy a house. Usually once he lands on discussions of a house, he gets a little more quiet, perhaps a bit sad.

He has an older brother who has one child and another on the way, a major reason for his parents’ decision to travel now, before the new baby arrives. His brother and brother’s wife have visited a few times while you were working, but Seokjin’s mother had mentioned that her son and his wife recently moved into a new house outside of the city, and with the new addition joining sometime in the spring, it can be a bit exhausting to pack up the car for a few hours of visiting time.

While you haven’t experienced Seokjin as an uncle, you know how much he loves being one, excusing himself from the front of the shop to Facetime with his nephew from the back office, where you can hear his voice carry with high pitched impressions and jokes or random songs he babbles to the youngest Kim.

Knowing him in this way feels a bit awkward now that he’s the one signing your paychecks. Since his transition, he’s been a bit more formal with you, you assume trying to be respectful and professional.

You understand where he’s coming from, but you miss the past connection you two had formed. And that seems to dictate your response.

“I like how romantic snow is. How it not only makes the lights twinkle more, but how people do cute things in it. Snowball fights, drinking hot chocolate, building snowmen. They change their behaviors for the snow. To celebrate love in it. Last time it snowed here, I saw one girl push her boyfriend into a snowbank.”

Seokjin laughs as he begins popping the tofu blocks into containers. “That sounds awful,” he says.

Your heart plummets. “Oh,” you squeak.

His head darts up to catch your expression and his eyes flash. “Oh, no no! Not like that. I mean, being pushed into the snowbank. That poor guy was probably soaking wet and freezing after that!” He waves his knife in his hand wildly with his gesture and then quickly deposits it into a sheath before stepping over to your workstation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

You recover. “Oh he was. He also got his revenge by pulling her in with him. And she wasn’t even wearing a coat.”

You watch Seokjin’s tense shoulders relax. His broad frame is so close now, towering over you. He smells a little like the earthy starch of potatoes, but you like it.

“I, uh,” he says, his voice becoming more raw. “I like the snow too. You’re right, it is romantic in a way. The snowflakes getting caught in your hair, you huddle closer to someone to share body heat, it’s nice.”

As if on cue, your bodies inch a little closer to each other. Seokjin reaches his arm forward, brushing along yours as he grasps one edge of the workstation to lean in.

“Yeah,” you reply lamely.

You blink up at him and he smiles back. You both sit there for a moment, neither of you moving, just studying the other’s expression.

Then, he leans in.

Your breath catches, and his other arm lifts up above you on the other side, caging you to the workstation.

Your eyes close from the intensity. He’s so close that you feel the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeve graze against your cheek.

All it would take is him leaning in and searing his lips onto yours and you would fold for him. You know this.

This is what you often fantasize about, the two of you in this position. That’s the power he has over you, his smooth seduction, your willingness.

If he asked you right now, you would strip down and bend over this workstation, let him fuck you with your nipples brushing against the cold steel of the counter, carrot shavings squishing against your face as he impales you with his cock.

It would be so easy, he just needs to ask you.

“Y/N,” he says, a bit more distant now, but you shudder at how roughly he says your name.

“Mm?” you hum, forcing your eyes to reopen. Seokjin has pulled away from you. How long has he been just looking at you standing here with your eyes closed?

“Turn around,” he says.

Wait, what?

You stare back at him blankly. Is he reading your mind?

Seokjin rolls his eyes and laughs, holding up the package of dried seaweed that was above you on the shelf. He tosses it on the counter behind him.

“Are you still here or did I lose you? I said turn around.” You freeze, confused.

He did all that to reach above you for some seaweed? Is he fucking with you? And what does he want you to turn around for?

“Wha–”

You open your mouth to ask but Seokjin moves in, his hands on your wrists as he takes you and spins you around so you’re up against your workstation, his stomach resting on your back as you stand sandwiched against him and the cold counter. You clench your thighs, suddenly aware that you are wet.

Fuck.

“You need to focus,” he says low in your ear. You take a shaky breath.

Focus. How are you supposed to focus when you imagined this exact scenario exactly one minute ago?

“I, what?” Your words fail you as you stand there, stunned and aroused but also completely confused about what he wants from you. This entire situation is a mindfuck.

Seokjin’s hands leave your wrists and make their way to your hands as he moves you like a puppet.

“Y/N, were you even paying attention? We just went over this. God, I swear, I’ve told you. You need to be present in the kitchen space. You’re lucky I resheathed the knife for you while you were on another planet. You could have easily gotten hurt.” Seokjin scolds you overhead.

Oh. You look to the right and see the kitchen knife you were using back in its protective shell and not where you left it, which, come to think of it, was incredibly close to where your hands were now on the counter under Seokjin’s. Yikes.

“Sorry,” you mutter, feeling a prick of shame seeping through the fog. Seokjin isn’t trying to fuck you against the counter; he’s trying to make sure you don’t cut your finger off.

He tuts above you, his grip still firm as he directs you to the uncut carrots and chopping board.

“Tsk, honestly. You’re ridiculous. What am I going to do if my best girl is hospitalized after losing her hand because she’s too busy daydreaming about snow storms instead of having basic kitchen awareness? You know, I could send you home over this. Make you unable to come back until you rewatch those kitchen safety videos with the fake blood and awful actors. Seriously.”

You shiver at his words. He’s so busy setting up for a rant, you almost miss it.

“Your best girl?” You ask lightly.

Seokjin stills, your joined hands hovering over the cutting board. “Oh, uh. You know what I mean. You’re the best….girl we have on staff. You know.”

You don’t. You’re far from the best girl on staff. Seha has a degree in culinary arts. She’s usually the one who has everything prepped days ahead with perfectly formed cuts. She manages the kitchen cleanliness with rigidness. She even barks orders at Seokjin when he’s in the kitchen because he isn’t as clean as her.

If she wasn’t out with the flu, none of this work would even need to be done. Maybe Seokjin is getting sick too. He’s been feverish looking and a little uneasy around you all morning, and clearly he’s now being delusional.

“Ah,” you concede, and give your hands a shake to urge him to continue.

“Right, anyway. You’re getting better at your cuts, but I’m losing money quickly with all your sacrifices to the floor goblins. And we don’t have much time left before the others start coming in, so let’s finish this up.”

You let Seokjin guide you, literally hand-over-hand, as he restructures your positioning on the knife and angle of the blade to slice through the carrots a lot more cleanly and easily.

“That’s it, good. You’re doing such a good job,” he breathes.

You feel his exhale along your spine. God, you’re a pervert. He’s just trying to help you better yourself, and all you’re thinking about is how dominating he seems right now and how much you want to please him.

God, if he calls you a good girl you know you’re going to moan audibly. That’s how bad he’s got you.

You keep working, and once you get the hang of it, Seokjin’s grip loosens, allowing you to finish the bag by yourself. But his hands are still on yours, even if you’re the one in control.

After a while though, it’s becoming too much to handle. Him bent over you like this is limiting your range of motion, making it hard to wipe the sweat on your hands or move your scrap pile further down the counter.

He’s also a human furnace, the space between you still so limited that you’ve begun sweating under him.

In one particular cut of carrot, the sweat caused by the joint heat of your hands causes you to lose your grip, shooting it down onto the floor.

Reflexively, you reach down to grab it, but with Seokjin still attached to you, it proves to be an immediate disaster.

You throw your body into a bend, which forces you back, your ass grinding directly into Seokjin and being met with something very large.

You gasp and Seokjin grunts, swiftly releasing your hands, which are actually balancing you in your bend.

You fall forward, smacking your head into the edge of the counter as you go down.

The kitchen echoes with an embarrassing clang as your forehead ricochets off the metal.

“Fuck,” you groan, a sharp pain shooting through you..

You scramble to recover, one hand going to your head as you steady yourself, rubbing the soreness. Seokjin flails above you, panicked.

“Oh shit! Y/N I’m so sorry! Oh my god. Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let go, I just was–” Seokjin rambles as you stare up at him, trying to get him to steel himself.

“No, fuck, ouch, it’s okay! I’m okay. Seokjin, can you please just get me some ice and help me up?” You aren’t sure you can get yourself up as your vision swirls from the heat of the pain. You really went down hard.

Seokjin ceases his flailing and shouting, leaning down and picking your body up off the floor with impressive strength and carrying you to a clean workstation in the center of the room. He sits you on top of it, making you now almost his height.

Holy shit.

Once sure you’re not at risk of flopping over, he walks over to the ice maker with a clean kitchen cloth and folds some ice cubes inside.

You reach for the cloth, but he refuses to hand it over.

“Yah! No. Please let me do this, I can see the bump forming already. I’m the one who caused your injury.” He gingerly lays the cold cloth against your head. You wince.

“‘Snot your fault,” you pout, trying to ignore the pain. “It was an accident. No one caused it.”

Seokjin sighs and places his free hand behind your head, discouraging you from angling away like you’ve subconsciously been doing.

“It is my fault. I let go of you. After just lecturing you about kitchen safety. God, what kind of example am I setting? I’m really sucking at this boss thing.”

You reach up, placing your hand on Seokjin’s wrist to remove it from the ice. But he doesn’t relent. You keep your hold.

“Seokjin, you’re not a bad boss. God you’re literally the opposite. Everyone here loves you. You’ve only been the manager for a little while. Give yourself some time. And keep in mind both of your parents ran this place, and now it’s down to just you.”

You feel the tendons under his wrist adjust, his grip a little looser. Seokjin’s wrists are soft and tan, a thin coating of hair trailing up his forearms and under his sleeve. Your grip loosens too, and you let your thumb brush back and forth through the hair.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t supposed to be the manager. My brother was supposed to manage the restaurant when my parents were ready to retire. That was always the plan, anyway. But things change. When they were getting their apartment ready for my nephew to arrive, I think they realized how tight space can be living in the city. We grew up in an apartment complex not too far from here and it always felt like we were on top of each other.

“Which, we kind of were. My brother and I shared this tiny room that had bunk beds, and we lived that way until he went away to college. I used to always smack my head against the ceiling when I was a teenager and woke up in the middle of the night. My forehead would get huge bruises on it, probably a lot like the one you’re going to have on your head.” He frowns.

“I guess my brother didn’t want to see his kids living like that either. I never minded it so much, but maybe that’s because I was the younger one. Not having any privacy during puberty or dealing with me during puberty was probably a nightmare for him.”

You shoot him a sympathetic smile. “It was nice of you to take over on his behalf then. I know you used to work for major companies in the business district downtown. This must have felt like a sacrifice.”

Seokjin’s arm falls away from your head, your soft caress pulling away with it. He sets the cloth down next to you. He worries his bottom lip into his mouth and then shakes his head.

“No, it was never like that. I’m sure eomma filled everyone and their brother’s ears with stuff about me. ‘Seokjin is our business minded son! He’ll make a great leader!’ ‘Seokjin is talented in the kitchen and spent his whole life working for us. We trained him well!’ ‘Don’t worry about him abusing his power. He knows exactly how it is for everyone!’” Seokjin’s says, his voice inotating the same pattern of his mother.

“Well, she wasn’t wrong. You are all those things,” you argue, lacing your fingers in his. You know it’s not necessarily appropriate behavior between a boss and his employee, but at this moment, you’d argue Seokjin needs a friend more than anything.

“I’m not, though, Y/N. I didn’t sacrifice anything to do this. It wasn’t some great act of loyalty where the son with a promising future gives up his dream for his family business. In fact I had to beg my parents to let me work here! Because I, their failure of a son, lost everything and had nowhere else to go! And the shit I ended up doing to even keep myself afloat…I’m not a great leader. I’m nothing more than a fraud.”

Seokjin rakes his free hand through his hair.

“I had a good life before this Y/N. A good job, a nice house, a fi-...just..I was living a dream that I no longer have for myself is all. But at the time I was on top of the world and now I feel like such a fucking failure.”

Seokjin looks like he’s falling apart, eyes darting madly as he shifts around, suddenly transforming into nothing like his usual cool, goofy self.

You need to stop this from getting worse. To distract him and stop him from talking himself into a pit of despair. If Seokjin’s mouth is occupied somehow, he can’t continue with all the negative self-talk.

A stupid idea flashes in your head. You don’t even think before you roll with it.

“Jesus, I can’t even manage properly. I messed up Mino’s paycheck a few weeks ago and I’m still not sure how it happened. I’m just not–”

Your lips connect with Seokjin’s, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug him closer as you move your body against his. Seokjin returns the kiss in earnest, parting his mouth to welcome your tongue as you lap the words out of his mouth.

His plush lips feel so soft against yours, his taste a bit bitter from the coffee you both drank earlier, but you find yourself craving more of it, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth with the hope that maybe you can absorb it.

Seokjin groans in response, gripping your hand tighter, his other settling on your lower back as he pulls you closer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear every atom in your body is vibrating at a higher frequency from his touch. You want to feel him everywhere.

You break the kiss, and see Seokjin’s eyelids are heavy, almost like he’s drunk. You’re about to move back in, to tongue along his sweaty, long neck, suck on his protruding Adam’s apple.

That’s when you hear it. The slam of the back door as your coworkers arrive.

Seokjin jolts back, breaking the hold you have around his waist with your legs.

His mouth looks a little red and swollen. And his eyes are wide, panic flashing across his face.

“I–I’m sorry!”

Before you can reassure him, tell him that you’re the one who should be sorry, you started this, who crossed this line between boss and employee by kissing him, Seokjin bolts from the kitchen.

You sit for a minute, stunned, and then look around, taking in the scene around you. The carrot shavings all over the counter, the discarded one still on the floor. Your knife is unsheathed again. There’s containers of tofu and seaweed just abandoned in a pile next to a large pot.

And you can feel the puddle forming under you from where the ice has begun to melt. What the fuck just happened? What mess did you just get yourself into?

The rest of your shift, you’re anxious. Especially because you’re short-staffed due to the weather forecast, which has led to three call-outs from people who commute from across town. That means you’re performing multiple roles: taking orders, bussing tables, seating customers, and getting appetizers, drinks, and side dishes ready for each group of people coming through the door.

Seokjin was right in his prediction; you guys are slammed. And because there’s less staff, that means Seokjin is orbiting around you, following behind with cleaning rags as you finish bussing or running into you in the narrow doorway as you both attempt to fetch an order from the kitchen. You’re both flushed and sweating, the hairs on the back of your neck now matted down.

Your mind is swirling around that kiss and its consequences, but you don’t have time to lose focus; the minute you finish one thing, you’re pulled into another task for a temporary distraction.

Only to be thrust back into the reminder of this morning when Seokjin lightly caresses the small of your back as he squeezes behind you to grab more plates.

If either of you ever need a break, you don’t say so, only pausing in between rushes to pee, take a bite of something, and chug water before you’re thrown back out into the mess.

Finally, after you elect to work a double, it’s closing time.

“Y/N!” Seokjin calls you from the front as you scrub the grime off a stack of dirty dishes.

Your pulse quickens. You’re the last one here. The storm kicked up an hour ago, and since you live the closest, you shoved your coworkers out the door so they could get home before the roads were a mess.

You dry your hands on your messy apron, pulling out your phone and wincing at the slew of missed calls, texts and notifications. You were supposed to stream again tonight with a bunch of other girl gamers as a part of a “Galentine's Day” collab, playing dating simulation games as a warm up before jumping into some first person shooters.

You’d reached out to cancel once you saw the stress tugging at Seokjin’s face, his jaw set, his brow constantly furrowed. While the other streamers were completely understanding, you still have a ton of notifications from your social channels asking if you are okay and some texts from Wonwoo and a few other friends asking the same.

You’ll fill them in later. But now, you have to face Seokjin.

He’s sitting at a freshly wiped-down table, counting the drawers and preparing the deposit slip.

He ushers you over and gestures at the stack of cash, silently asking you to verify his numbers. You comply, the room silent less the shuffling of bills or coins under your fingertips and your habitual mouthing of the numbers to ensure you don’t lose count.

He nods at your final calculation, jotting the number down on the sheet and placing the bills together. You turn and begin to head back to the kitchen.

“Wait,” he says, and you freeze.

Your stomach is quickly turning into a bundle of knots. You suck your lips into your mouth as you spin back around, Seokjin’s eyes meeting yours.

“I…” Seokjin takes a deep breath before continuing. “Listen. I’m really sorry about this morning. Today’s just been a whole mess and I really shouldn’t have been airing my frustrations to an employee like that. It was inappropriate and immature. I know better than to behave this way.”

Did you say your stomach was in knots? You mean it’s filled with heavy, sickening lead. “Oh, right. Uh, don’t. I mean, I started it. I just…you were panicking and I didn’t know what to do and I thought maybe this would help.”

Seokjin’s brow furrows, a frown on his face. “Why are you apologizing when I’m clearly the one in the wrong here? Ah, no let me finish! I’ve always prided myself on my professionalism and ability to keep personal matters out of my work. And I failed in doing so, which takes advantage of you since I’m your superior. You not only felt a need to comfort me but also stop me from spinning out. I’m truly sorry Y/N, about the oversharing and the um, kiss. I definitely gave into my emotions in a moment of weakness. Please forgive me, I promise I will never touch you again. This won’t happen again.”

His head droops and he looks down, clearly ashamed.

Oh. So he doesn’t want this. Which, why would he? He’s right in that he’s your boss, and clearly Seokjin values his reputation and his job because they’re a reflection of not just him, but his family. Why risk that with someone like you?

You swallow the lump in your throat along with any response. There is the boundary, you know better than to cross it.

As you move again, Seokjin rises from the table. “Y/N…you know what? You go home. The storm is really coming down.”

“But, there’s still mopping and all those dishes left,” you croak. Your voice is so hoarse from being dehydrated and talking all day that you barely recognize it as your own.

“Don’t worry about those. You look and sound exhausted. It’s not your job to take care of everything. Go home, enjoy your romantic snowy trek,” he smirks, “and get some much needed rest. You’ve more than earned it.”

When you arrive home, your body slugs onto your bed, finally giving into the fatigue you’ve ignored all day. Your feet ache, your stomach now settled enough from your walk that you are starving. And you smell awful.

As much as you want to fall asleep, you know that you at the very least need to eat something.

With a groan, you rise, hobbling to your kitchen to make some instant ramyeon. The collab stream is now over, you learned this while finally checking your phone on your way home and seeing a thank you message blasted out by one of the streamers. Oh well.

You suppose you could get back to your book, see what Prince August and his lover are getting up to in their reunion, but that seems like more brain power than you’re willing to give.

You elect to eat, then take a shower, rinsing the grime of the day off you. When you step out of the shower, you see an ugly looking bump and purple bruise on your forehead.

That’s right, you’d already forgotten about your injury from earlier. You touch it lightly and recoil from the sharp pain. Damn, maybe you should’ve checked to see if you were concussed earlier. You didn’t realize you hit your head that hard.

You decide to ice it before bed, crawling under your covers and trying to rest while you play back your day.

How you started is so significantly different from where you are now. When you woke up, you were eager and excited to be around Seokjin, to learn new skills and feel light and warm in his presence. Now, the idea of going back to work in a few days, to have to muddle through the rejection you got tonight and try to get back to a baseline makes you feel nauseous.

Seokjin wants to make this all water under the bridge, and you want to do that for him. But it’s nearly impossible when he’s, well, him. He doesn’t understand how much more difficult it’s going to be to look at him because you’re not walking around with a face like that: perfectly balanced and delicate features and a full, delicious set of lips.

God, he really did taste fantastic. You wonder what would’ve happened if you two weren’t interrupted. Would giving into his emotional need for comfort have given you more? You know it’s wrong to think about, because you're the one who took advantage of him, not the other way around.

He can say he took advantage of you with his power imbalance or whatever, but you’re the one who was seconds away from licking down that thick neck or grinding back onto that massive cock.

Fuck, that’s right, Seokjin is huge under all those clothes and your ass got to experience rubbing against it today. And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but he seemed like he was a little hard.

If Mino and the others had been just a little later, you might have seen it. They might have walked in on you on your knees as you choked on it, Seokjin’s moans and whines echoing in the kitchen.

Because now from kissing him, you got a taste of those little noises he makes. And the memory has you becoming slick and needy.

It’s late. Too late to read your smutty book, especially since you’re not at the next smutty scene yet. August and his beloved are just reuniting. You’re sure it’s bound to be good, but you don’t have that kind of patience right now. You need to cum, to get your ideas about Seokjin and what he firmly set as a boundary out of your head once and for all.

Which means you need to give your fantasy of him out of your head too. You shove the ice pack you’ve been holding to your head aside, ready to relieve some tension.

You reach under your shirt and gasp when the chill of your icy hand plucks at one of your nipples. Yes, you need more of this.

You touch the other one with your other hand, disappointed that it’s warm. And then you get a fantastic idea. You grope around for a moment until you feel the cold cloth housing the ice cubes from your freezer and pluck one out. It melts quickly in your hand, but the cold water is stimulating as you feel it run down your forearms, a droplet or two rushing down and reaching the heat of your armpit. You pull the large shirt you use as pajamas up further with your other hand, fully exposing your chest and stomach to the chilly air of your apartment.

The ice cube drips over your navel. You hiss as the new sensation floods your core with warmth. Some of the water pools in your belly button, a satisfying dampness taking over your body. Then, you drip the melting ice cube onto each nipple and relish how erect and sensitive they’ve become from your arousal.

Your breasts are plush, something you love to grab and tug as you play with yourself. They’re heavy, the weight of gravity tugging them down instead of staying up as porn once made you believe was possible.

You can understand why people sometimes get caught up playing with tits all the time. They’re arguably fun to play with.

As the ice cube warms and shrinks, you become more curious, taking it between your fingers and swirling it directly over each nipple, a shock of cold hitting them and your hips bucking in pleasure. More. Whatever you’re feeling right now, you need more of it.

You rip your sleep shorts and panties off in desperation, splaying your legs open and aiming yourself up so the last drips of the ice cube can fall directly onto the folds of your pussy, a few dribbles landing right on your aching clit.

Heat, that’s what you actually feel. Fire and ice swirling together in a decadent and hot pleasure. You reach over and grab another cube, this time skipping the teasing and touching the ice right to your clit. It’s a lot. Too much. Not enough. The pain shooting through your clit is also full of so much pleasure and you don’t want to stop.

You rock against your hand, rubbing your clit with your fingers as the ice melts, mixing the wetness of the water with your own, getting you messier, hotter, hungrier.

The memory of Seokjin holding the ice pack flits through your head, how cold his one hand was as it held yours, similar to the chill of your own hand as you grind it against your pussy. You need something inside of you. Now.

And unfortunately for you, all your toys are currently dirty. When you finished streaming last night, you made good on your promise to fuck yourself until you passed out, which means your collection of dildos and vibrators are now discarded in a pile next to your bed that you’d intended to wash after work today.

You insert a finger and sigh. It’s not enough. The angle is too awkward and you can’t get far enough in. Seokjin’s hands are much larger than yours, capable of pumping his long fingers deep within you, to get to the part of your core that is aching. If he were here right now, he could be itching that scratch, a smug look on his face as he comments on how soaking wet you are for him and commands you to cum.

Ugh. You said you wouldn’t think of him, yet here he is again, stirring up inside your fantasies. You can’t give in, you need to distract yourself, look at another face so you can feel motivation.

You remove your fingers, wipe them on the damp washcloth next to you, and reach over on your side table for your laptop.

You don’t watch a lot of porn, finding the videos often too fake, but you’re desperate. You scroll through the website, quickly losing some of your arousal as you click through pages of straight porn, the ones you know that will have some awful plot, or the woman has some nasal and fake moan that kills your buzz. Or the guys are so ugly, proving that porn always has the male gaze in mind.

You just need to cum. Today has been awful enough, and knowing you have to stream tomorrow again is already causing you to wind up. No, this is necessary stress relief. An unwinding. Make it dirty and to the point.

You click over into the other categories. You need just a man, someone else who isn’t Seokjin. You hover over the male masturbation tag, still disappointed. Then you see a banner ad for a camming site: Worldwide Handsome, Hunks From Around the Globe. That, you think, seems more promising.

Live cams are interactive, more with immediacy. Usually the guys on them are hot or gay or both and just ready to jack off for money and give in to some dirty talk. Even the gay camboys don’t always care if women are viewing. Money is money.

You click the banner, praying this doesn’t immediately give your computer a hundred viruses that will delete all your coursework you’ve saved to the harddrive.

Luckily, it’s a legitimate website, much like OnlyFans, just with the emphasis on queer men from every country. You might just be saved.

There are so many categories to choose from: couples, kinks, trans, bisexual, furries, just chatting, BDSM, interactive games, private rooms. It’s a little overwhelming. You select the “solo” tab, which, of course, has the most videos under it, and begin exploring.

You click on one that seems promising, but quickly exit out because the user has fallen asleep and it feels too intimate.

In another, the streamer is yelling at his chat for outting him to his parents, and you exit out of that as well.

You’re about to give up when you refresh the page, but then a recently started stream catches your eye. It’s quickly gaining views, and has a little “1” next to it, probably to indicate that this streamer is the most popular one in his category.

The title for the stream is Unwind with me. Late night play with Daddy which makes your core throb a little with promise. The thumbnail is black, which is a little odd, but you’re curious who this “Daddy” is and how he plans on helping his viewers unwind. Because that is exactly what you need. In his associated tags, there’s a tiny banner at the bottom that urges you forward “all genders welcome”.

You click the link, and the video itself is black, but there’s still hundreds of comments fluttering through the chat. Is your stream broken? This sometimes happens when you stream too, but after a quick refresh you realize that the screen isn’t black. There’s a little bit of light pouring through whatever is covering the camera, detecting some movement through the veil.

“You don’t know how stressed I am today,” a low voice groans.

Whoa. You lean closer, tapping the volume button on your laptop to the max and leaning back. God, whoever this guy is, he sounds hot. This might actually work to get you off and get over Seokjin.

You balance your laptop on your knees and roll your hand down your stomach and between your legs, finding your aching clit and sighing as you delight in your touch.

“I know we don’t always play games like this baby. I know you usually like it when I beg. But I can’t play like that today. It’s been so long since I got to fall back into what I desperately, absolutely need.”

His voice is so seductive yet also comforting in a way that’s familiar. You feel more of your arousal dripping out of you, and you scoop it up to swirl it around your clit, feeling a little twinge of that white hot pleasure return to you.

“And what I need is to take the edge off, to remind all of you who is in charge. Some of you have been very, very bad lately. Haven’t I given you enough? A two-year anniversary stream? I gave you all my cum didn’t I? All of it.”

The chat is going nuts, comments replying with “yes Daddy” accompanying tips that vary from twenty bucks to one thousand dollars spilling in. You check his timestamp. He’s only been live for five minutes and he’s already getting this much? Even your most successful streams take hours to reach a little over a thousand after royalty cuts.

To his credit, though, if you had a grand to drop on him, you just might, and that’s going by his sexy voice alone.

“I let you watch me spill from my cock, let you see me touch myself. And you were greedy. Don’t think I don’t know what you did. I saw your questioning comments, trying to shame me for muttering someone’s name in pleasure. But I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Fuck, what you would do to have this guy moan your name. You feel your orgasm approaching and rub yourself harder, a soft squelch echoing through your room.

“You took what I gave you for granted, you fucking whores. And now, you need to be punished.”

You’re so close, the little peaks of pleasure starting to build up higher in intensity.

The mystery man stops talking, and you along with the chat, begging for more.

“Please,” you moan at your screen.

Suddenly, you hear it, a wet, slick sound. Fuck, is he touching himself?

“It’s been a long day. All day, I was working and I was so horny because some people in this world can’t stop fucking teasing me, tempting me to punish them, just like you.”

You feel the tremor of your first orgasm, but it’s not as sharp, more like a hint of what is to come. You pinch your clit between your fingers, sighing a little bit at the relief of pressure.

“You’ve all been very bad. And until you show me you can be good, I’m going to pump my cock and not let any of you see. You think you can do that? You think you can be my good little subs and prove to me you’ll behave?”

Oh god. Fuck. He’s insane, he’s so hot and insane, and you’re also insane, nodding along. The condescension is so hot, and it reminds you of earlier in the kitchen, when Seokjin scolded you for not being safe with the knife. His voice got rough just like this guy. And it makes you feel so needy and desperate.

Please, you beg silently, just like how you did this morning. I’ll do anything.

Almost as if he knows this, you hear a moan carry through your speakers. You assume he’s reading the comments and tips with promises to behave. You clench around nothing, really wishing at least one of your toys was clean for you to use to feel less empty. You’re never falling asleep without washing them again.

“Good, that’s what I like to see. Now remember, you don’t get to cum until I get to cum. Go ahead and play with yourself for me, get yourself all worked up. And then be good and listen. I’ll tell you what to do next.”

Whoops. Well, the first one didn’t count. You aren’t satisfied.

He groans, signaling that he’s stroking himself again, rough jerks you can hear from the way his hands are sliding over his (you assume) lubed cock.

“You want to see me cum? You want to earn it all over you? You know what you have to do, my pretty little subs. Work for it. And not a penny less.”

In a frenzy, the tip jar continues to buzz in the bottom corner, the graphic of coins depositing into it glitching out a bit as it fails to keep up with the volume of tips. While he’s the most popular streamer on this site, it’s not as though the website is the only one of its kind, and that means that his couple hundred viewers are putting in the work and the cash.

You watch the numbers rise next to the tip jar as his subs showcase their double entendre: both his subscriber count soars and his comments flood with loyal submissives.

Please, Daddy. Please let me cum.

I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I swear.

Remove the blindfold please! I need to see your big cock!

Ah, it’s a blindfold. Of course.

The graphic of the jar changes, exploding and sending animated dollars and coins across the screen. This is wild. His viewers have already met the milestone. They’ve just raised ten grand in less than 15 minutes. That has to be some kind of record.

He tuts and the sound of it punches your gut. Why does he sound so familiar? “Tsk, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I knew you could do it. You want my forgiveness that badly, huh? Okay, I’ll give you what you need. I’ll forgive you.”

Your pussy is throbbing. You’ve had to scale back the touching, feeling a weird sense of obedience to this camboy that you can’t describe.

There’s a ruffling sound and the camera jolts before light pours into view, a blur of shapes and colors you can’t make out greeting you until it comes into focus and you’re met with a massive, leaking cock.

“Holy shit,” you moan, finding your footing on your bed and moving your resting hand from your inner thigh back to your clit.

The camera is framed from the user’s toned abs down to just the top of his thighs, showing off his heavy, tight balls and red, angry tip.

“Is this what you’re begging for?”

Yes, you shudder a breath. Yes.

Large hands with long knobby fingers run along his thighs, one sweeping under to cup his balls while the other works his shaft, thumb sliding over his slit to rub precum around the tip.

“Alright, then.” He begins pumping, smooth, tight jerks that have him squeezing his length and encouraging more strands of precum to leak out. He falls into a steady rhythm and you mirror the pace on your clit, gasping for breaths as you become all the more sensitive now that you have a visual to follow.

“My face? Oh, no. You didn’t earn the right to see that. Don’t start with me. If you want to see my face when I cum, you have to reach the next milestone. You know the rules.”

You don’t know the rules, but you hope someone else will be desperate enough to reach it for you. You’re dying to know what he looks like.

Almost instantly, the money animation explodes on the screen again. A $5000 tip. Jesus Christ.

“Ah, of course mapl3stor33, I should’ve known it was you. Always so good to me. Because of you I got to get that new collector figurine. Thank you. Well everyone, because of mapl3’s generosity and mmm…loyalty…fuck. I guess I’ll let you get your full fantasy. Let you see my face as you imagine you get to make a mess of me, milk my fucking cock all over you and let me make a mess of you.” He’s moaning as he speaks, pausing between sentences to pump himself harder as he gives “Maple” a proper shout out.

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment. It’s one thing for you to create the fantasy, but him acknowledging it with some judgment, as though you’re not good enough to even fantasize about him, it’s leading you quicker to your undoing.

His pace builds to a heavy, slick rut. His hands are slightly red, almost like how yours looked after washing the dishes before Seokjin kicked you out.

Wait. Red hands. His look similar to Seokjin’s, with the same knobby long fingers. And the figurine and Maple…like, MapleStory?

There’s no way. No, you’re clearly just losing it with your fantasies. This one is taking it too far.

“Fuck, yeah that’s it baby. Touch yourself. Be good for me. Where do you want my cum? Oh, you dirty slut, fuck, yes. Okay, I’ll cum all over myself. Just for you. Shit. Almost, come on.”

Your fingers are still following his lead, unable to stop, so close to finishing, to the release.

He moans, his hands blurring as he strokes fast and hard, jerking into himself. And that’s when you know. You heard that moan. You caused that moan.

With a final solid, slightly whiny grunt, he backs up. His face coming into frame, and the first strands of thick white release cascades across Seokjin’s chest as you focus in on the pure bliss washing over him, his head thrown back and mouth shaped into a delicious “o”.

“Oh, fuck. Take it, take my cum. Yes, that’s it. That’s my best girl, so good for me. Such a good girl.”

The second you hear the praising fall from Seokjin’s mouth, he takes you over the edge with him. Your body rockets into your orgasm with a heavy clench of your core, feet losing their solid hold below you as you begin to shake and succumb to the feeling.

You’ve unwound, the tension of your body unfurling as you’re cast out to sea, your body bobbing along each wave with a newfound euphoria. Out here on the water, the world is silent except the ring in your ears. You bask in the peaceful ebb until you feel a tingling in your fingertips and toes calling you back, forcing breath back into your lungs with a heavy pant.

Once you recenter, you gaze back at the stream, confirming that this is the smiling and grateful Seokjin you just saw three hours ago.

He called you a good girl. He came all over his sweaty chest. And he’s the top streamer on a gay sex cam site.

#seokjin smut #bts smut #jin smut #ksj #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin

120 notes · View notes

psychewritesbs · 11 months

Text

15 questions for 15 mutuals

tagged by @darthdutton, thank you so much for the fun tag game and sorry I took so long to get to it! I’ve been on a much needed social media fast 🙏🏼.

are you named after anyone? No, I don’t think so. I think my dad just didn’t like my almost-name and liked the idea of me being “victorious”. Turns out the only way I’ve lived up to my name is by owning a bunch of dolls, wanting to be treated like a Queen and wanting to meet my Albert.

when was the last time you cried? um. In the shower about a week ago? I had to euthanize my 15 year old dog and I was suddenly struck by the grief of her loss since she’s been in my life for so long.

do you have kids? I have three kittens.

do you use sarcasm a lot? only all the time.

what sports do you play/have you played? Anything in physical education class at school. I always sucked at sports and was the last one to get picked when making teams. It was so embarrassing lol. I’m a good skier tho!

what's the first thing you notice about other people? idk, great question! I’ll pay more attention.

eye color? Dark brown.

scary movies or happy endings? Scary movies! Nothing against happy endings but... they gotta be realistic for me to like them.

any special talents? Overthinking.

where were you born? Wouldn’t you like to know?!!!!!! Even though I was raised in Mexico, I was born in the United States. I am privileged with a USAmerican passport.

what are your hobbies? watching anime, reading, writing, listening to music, dancing,trying out new restaurants/cafes, going on trips ( hate to copy ,but damn we do have the same taste x2)

do you have any pets? More like too many pets. I just euthanized my Min Pin, so now I only have 4 cats and a Border Collie. But I’ll be giving up 2 of the kittens up for adoption and most likely releasing Momo (the mom) once I spay her.

how tall are you? Wouldn’t you like to know?!!!!! Average height in the US, tall in Mexico.

fave subject in school? Psychology, Math, Cultural Anthropology, Linguistics

dream job? idk because I've had amazing jobs where I felt so lucky to get paid to do work that I do but I’ve evolved... it used to be Marketing but I would like to get paid to use my Psychology nerdery next.

No pressure tags @justafrenchlondoner @sixth-vip @noa-ciharu @yamat0 @momoyamaguchi @linkspooky @incensuous @queen-asiad @ashleyfonthescreamofcreation

#tag games

184 notes · View notes

neonmoonlight514 · 9 months

Text

The First Night

It's the night of their wedding and what better time than for them to be intimate for the first time. This is a smutfic, it does have sexual interactions and I kinda wrote this on a spur of the moment sorta thing. (My friends love my writing so I kinda like to do it.) Sorry if there's errors, if there are, we didn't catch them. lol. Anyway, enjoy.

After changing out of her elegant white kimono, into a soft pink, she walked into the bedroom where she met her new husband. He was dressed down a little, his eyes slowly turning toward her. They met, a smile moving over her features, giving him that soft happy expression that he grew to adore. It was contagious as he too smile lovingly back at her. This was her husband. An amazing man that was so broken and destroyed and yet, he smiled at her.

She walked over to him, lowering herself down to her knees. Her hands moved to gently set on his knees, feeling the fabric of the kimono under her fingertips. She was still smiling as she kept her lavender eyes on his violet. She could hear the rain pelting down outside, splattering on the grass. The warm summer air was electrifying, as lightning pulsed inside their room and a soft rolling of thunder. The gentle storm that had rolled in right after their wedding was a perfectly romantic way to end their night.

She felt his hand against her cheek and leaned into it. Her eyes closed, parting her lips just slightly to let an exhale slip by. Still, no words escaped them as another flash illuminated the room, followed by another soft thunder. She moved closer to him, sliding between his legs and against his chest. A kiss, one she remembered working so hard to gain, as he kept that wall up, keeping all that wished to get close out. If he only knew how gentle he was toward her, would his pride get in the way?

That kiss seemed to be neverending as she settled down on his lap, arms moving around his neck. Each second it felt like his arms tighten around her, his hand moving up and into her hair, gripping gently at the strands of inky black. Her arms folded in, pulling herself closer to him, her chest pressed against his, her kimono falling at her shoulders just a little. His kisses, although gentle were getting hungrier and hungrier for her. Lips parted, his however brushed softly down her jaw, to her neck, sending soft shivers along her skin. The warmth of his breath brushed over her pale skin, lips touching and soft pressure. He sucked gently upon her soft skin, leaving a red mark, one in many that he would be leaving behind.

Her lower lip tucked between her teeth, lightly biting at the pink mound. His lips traveled until soft kisses reached her collarbone, giving a couple of soft kisses before moving his hands down to her thighs. Fingertips gripped her and lifted her with ease as he stood with her in his arms. She gazed down at him, watching his face illuminate within the flash of the storm. Her lips curled into a smile, lowering her lips down against his. The movement caused her kimono to loosen, falling down her arms and tauntingly exposing her chest slightly. A tease that didn't go unnoticed by the Wind Hashira.

Gently, he laid her on their futon, her eyes opening to gaze up at the man above her. His hands found hers as he settled between her legs. She held his hands gently fingertips sliding between his. His smile, gentle as the rain that fell just outside of the window was seen. How could she be so lucky?

Fingertips slipped from hers. She watched as he untied his kimono, and removed it, letting it fall behind him. His scarred body, oh how she wished she wished she could remove every bad memory that came with them, but never wished for them to disappear, for his scars were what made him and she loved every one of them.

This time, Sanemi moved over her, lowering himself down to place more kisses on her lips. Her hands lifted, placing gentle fingertips along the scars, gliding them over every defined muscle until hands moved around his torso. Her hands glided up his back, brushing gentle touches along his shoulders. His kisses had halted, and soft breaths caressed her lips, opening her eyes just a little to gaze up into those violets again.

"I love you."

She smiled, the happiness pouring out of that one simple expression. His voice with the words that he spoke made her heart skip a beat. She loved it when he said those three words to her.

"I love you more."

A soft laugh escaped him, his body moved to each sound. A sound she loved hearing from him, for it was her treat to see him so incredibly happy. She felt his hair brush against her forehead before his skin touched hers. Their foreheads pressed gently together.

"Impossible."

Impossible? Could this man even think he could love her more? Equal, it was equal. Her heart in his hands caressed and loved for an eternity. She couldn't fathom living her life without him, not anymore. As long as she carried his last name, she vowed to love him to her fullest.

His forehead lifted from hers, and he moved away from her, lips now moving down her neck, her collarbone, and the now slightly exposed breasts. Large calloused hands pushed the thing pink fabric to the side, exposing her fully to him. She felt his fingertips brushing along her skin, gliding over the left plump breast, admiring the beauty of his wife. She blushed, her hands slipping from his back, one falling to her side and the other covering her face. She felt his hot breath on her nipple, caressing the tip with his tongue before sucking. It felt good, biting back the noises that wished to surface from her pursed lips.

The touch of his left hand against her right breast, thumb brushing over the nipple. She gazed down at him, his white hair hiding his face, brushing softly against her skin. Fingertips moved toward his hair, sliding into the strands. He gazed up at her, catching her gaze only for a moment before the white hair fell back down between them. Moving his right from her left breast, gliding down her stomach to her thigh. Gentle movements up to her knee and then back down her thigh. Another shiver flowed over her body, especially when she felt his fingers slide against her sensitive folds.

This caused her breath to catch and a small squirm, especially when his finger found the most sensitive spot.

"Sanemi…"

His finger slipped away from the sensitive bead, finding his way inside of her. Pushing one finger in slowly, pushing as far as his finger would go. Gliding his lips down from her breasts to her stomach, he moved further down. She felt him push two fingers inside of her, gliding them back and forth inside of her. She felt his warm tongue now teasing the sensitive bead between her legs. Her body reacted to every stroke of his fingers and every lick of his tongue. She was already going crazy, feeling his tongue flick and suck gently against her clit, causing her body to tremble under him. Her leg, pressed against his sides to try to keep them from twitching. Her lips parted, and a moan escaped.

He kept going, and she was fighting every moment of pleasure. It was as if he could sense that she was, causing him to pull his fingers out from inside of her, focusing just his tongue against the sensitive folds of her womanhood. Each lick sent her reeling, her cheeks flared, her hand moving down to glide her fingertips in his hair again, gripping gently at the strands. She felt his tongue sink into her, his fingertips gripping at her thigh, pressing into her flesh causing her to moan out again.

"….Sa..nemi…"

He didn't stop, gliding his tongue back up to that sensitive, swollen bead that instantly caused her to move her thighs against him, only to feel his hand pull her right thigh back. Another lick and another. She whimpered, the hand that wasn't in his hair, moved up and covered her face. Her body tensed, her hand gripped at his hair as she felt that one last push that sent her body over the edge. She whimpered once again, her hips moved, but he held her in place. She felt her orgasm hit, her body trembling from the sudden release. She felt his movement, looking down her body until she saw him move, his knees between her legs.

She watched as he licked his lips, causing her cheeks to flare. She covered her face with both hands now, peeking through her fingers at him. She heard his laugh and felt his hands move around her wrists. She didn't fight him as he pulled her hands away from her face, pulling both of them above her head. His body moved closer to her, his hips moved against hers, feeling his hard member against her. She felt his hands move her wrists together and one large hand covering them.

She gazed up at him and smiled, that same smile that melts him every time. He moved his free hand to her cheek and kissed her. His hand had slipped away, and slowly her eyes closed, as she kissed him. She felt him push into her. Her eyes closed even more, feeling himself move more and more into her. Halfway in, she whimpered, her eyes watering just a little. He broke the kiss, his breath panting softly against her lips. He released her hands, but she didn't move them. She felt him move again, this time pushing himself completely into her. He caught a tear that escaped with his fingertip, brushing it away.

"Don't stop."

She whispered to him, which was followed by his low gruff voice, "I won't."

Every movement of his hips became easier. The pain came and went almost instantly. Arms finally moved from above her head to around his neck. His lips found hers again, kissing her passionately as his hips began to find a pace that was just perfect. The passion she felt was unlike anything she has ever felt before. It was like pure ecstasy as he placed both hands on her hips and pulled her into him.

Her legs moved up and around his hips, locking her ankles together as he continued to move, picking up the pace just a little. This caused her body to move under him, bouncing just a little to his movements. His lips parted from hers, dipping down to her neck where he nipped gently at her skin. She felt his lips part as he softly sucked, leaving more red marks behind.

Her voice was heard again, a moan flowing past her lips, urging him to continue. She could feel his hips move faster, harder against her. She heard his pants, moans and it turned her on. His voice. She loved it. His lips were only a breath away from her neck, his pants brushing against her skin. Her head arched back just a little as a moan escaped, that feeling of pleasure washing over her. She orgasmed again just as he slammed his hips against hers, feeling him follow her as he grunted. His hips pushed against hers before stopping completely.

His hands moved to each side of her, pressing fingertips into the futon. She felt his head fall against her shoulder, her arms moving around his body, holding him to her. He moved his head from her shoulder and looked down at her, a slight bit of worry in his eyes. She however smiled back.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm great. Perfect."

And then he kissed her, rolling over on his back, bringing her to sit upon his hips. Her hands pressed gently against his chest, breaking the kiss as she sat up, still with him inside of her. She felt his hand brush against her arm, a soothing sensation that broadened her smile. She was his world, but to her, he was her universe, holding her in a place where she belongs.

#sanemi smut #sanekana #demon slayer #smut fic #sanemi x kanae #kanae kocho #Kanae #Sanemi #kny sanemi #wedding #sanemi shinaguzawa

126 notes · View notes

chans-room · 2 years

Text

Possess Your Heart - 2

Pairing: tattoo artist! fwb! Yoongi x cam girl! reader (ot7 x reader overall)

Genre: yandere, smut, angst, fluff, thriller

Rating: Explicit smut so 18+ only! Minors DNI

Words: ~5.4k

Warnings: implied stalking, sex work (she’s a cam girl y’all), masturbation (f), tattooed Yoongi (yes that’s a warning), fwb, daddy kink, Yoongi calls her kitten a lot (and kitty, pet, and brat lol), super mild degradation, shibari, choking, lingerie ripping, marking, jealousy, teasing, manhandling, finger sucking, subspace, consent and kink conversation, safeword establishing (safeword is not used), emotional vulnerability 🥴, fingering, discussion of cockwarming, pet play kink if you squint, crying, dacryphilia lol, unprotected vaginal sex (mentioned that reader has IUD), aftercare, break-in (implied).

A/n: I’m so sorry this has taken 7000 years lol. Id love to hear your thoughts on this and if there are any warnings I’ve missed please let me know 🖤 beta read so she should be crisp

Previous | Next

—

Day 2150:

She smells like raspberries today. I wish I could hold her, but she‘s always just out of reach.

It’s like she doesn’t see me at all, even though I’m with her all the time. She has no idea what I’d do for her, what I already do for her. But she’ll see soon. She’s almost ready, I can tell.

She didn’t see them today at least. I hate when I know they’ve been close to her when I can’t be. I have to remember she’s fragile, soft.

She’ll see when it’s time. She needs me.

I love her. And she’ll love me too.

She watched herself in the monitor, acrylic nails running over her skin as she pulled up the hem of her shirt, revealing the thin straps that crossed her torso in intricate patterns.

The sensual beat of her playlist drowned out her thoughts as she put on a show, just for herself for now. Jin’s new stipulations meant more live-streams, and less time for pre-recorded content, which she always found to be less anxiety inducing. School, work, and the pressure to keep going live had left her no choice but to ignore her friends, cancel her plans, and make time to fulfill her requested content.

She’d chosen a pretty, delicate moth mask to film in; one Yoongi had bought for her at an art market after seeing her mask collection. She could still remember the shy look on his face when he had given it to her, buying it after she’d walked away after deciding it was too expensive. He merely handed it to her, as if it was nothing, but she saw the small quirk of his lips as she gasped and thanked him. He’d brushed off her thanks, and her insistence that he hadn’t needed to buy it for her — but the way his hand tightened around hers had made her heart flutter.

She felt her mind getting hazy thinking about him as she unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing, coincidentally his shirt. She’d slipped it on over the expensive lingerie set she bought that afternoon, finding it buried underneath the clothes she’d tried on before going out. She couldn’t remember him leaving it there, but Yoongi always did have a bad habit of leaving his clothes around her apartment. But the smell of him on the sleeves and in the collar had her head spinning. Memories flickered in her mind as she shivered — his hands on her, his deep groans, the soft clinking of his necklaces as he hovered above her.

She let the flannel hang off her shoulders as she swayed in place to the beat of the music she had filtering through her speakers, her hands trying to replicate what Yoongi would have done if he’d been there. His touch was always confident, and consuming in a way that she found herself addicted to. She let her fingers slip under the black material, running a finger through her folds, moaning softly. It was almost embarrassing how turned on she felt just thinking about him; her breath catching in her throat when she ran her finger over the hickey he’d left on the junction of her thigh.

It had nearly faded entirely since the last time she’d seen him — Yoongi never let her leave without giving her a few marks — but she still covered them with makeup. It made their presence seem more sacred, more real. They weren’t the only marks Yoongi left on her body she had to cover, but she cherished the impermanence of the love bites even more.

Yoongi’s flannel was soon on the floor next to her as she picked up the small vibrator that she’d pulled out, along with a few other toys she thought would be fun to show off.

The black bands of fabric that covered her body felt almost like a harness, but less secure than the tight length of rope was. She’d never let anyone tie her up — she was sure Yoongi or Jungkook would do it if she asked — but the timing never felt right. Jungkook always had some new idea for a video they had to try, and Yoongi had always seemed to shy away from really dominating her the way she wanted him to. The way she knew he could.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, and her pleasure, she didn’t hear the jingling of keys, and the click of the deadbolt coming undone. What she did hear though was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor in her entryway.

“Is this what you bailed on dinner for, kitten?” Yoongi asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. She was too far gone to feel ashamed about being caught, all she wanted now was to have him touch her. “You needed to come home and get all dressed up and take care of yourself?”

“Yoongi,” she whined, feeling another wave of arousal surge through her.

He smiled, kicking her door closed with a small slam, “Yes?” The way he was looking at her made her shiver — she’d never seen him look at her like that before.

“Please, I need you to take care of me,” she moaned, circling her clit gently with the pad of her finger.

“Kitten, I already do take care of you,” he smirked, “That’s why I brought you some food, but here I find my good girl fucking herself on the floor. What’s that about?” He asked, leaning against her door as he watched her. Goosebumps broke out across her skin — this was the Yoongi she knew was hiding under the surface. He’d always backed off at the last second, but the way he was looking at her, and talking to her, made her think she’d finally gotten him to snap.

“Yes, fuck Yoon, you always take care of me, you take such good care of me baby,” she whined, “But I need you to fuck me, please, I need you, you’re the only one who I want—“

“Is that right? You need me to fuck you? And I’m the only one you want? Then what are you doing, hm kitten? You know if you want to try out some new things, all you have to do is ask,” he scolded her, kicking off his shoes and dropping his jacket in her entryway.

“It’s for work, Yoongs, but I started thinking about you and I got all—“ she whined, words tumbling out of her mouth so fast he had trouble understanding her. But she was cut off by Yoongi surging forward, his palm against her sternum as he pushed her backwards into the pile of pillows behind her, flexing his fingers experimentally around her throat as he ripped the mask off her face with his other hand.

“And what kind of work do you do dressed like this, hm kitten?” He asked. “Wearing the mask I bought you and fucking yourself half naked in your living room?” His voice was calm but she knew him — she could see the ice in his stare as he pinned her down under his gaze.

“Yoon, you know I do stuff like this I’ve told you before I was gonna film—“ she began but he cut her off with his fingers tightening around the column of her neck before releasing the pressure.

“You never told me you did anything like this. Have you been keeping secrets from me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he moved between her legs.

“No, Yoon, I’d never keep secrets from you. I thought you knew,” she shook her head. He smiled and nodded, running his free hand along her skin, just the way she’d been imagining. His fingers splayed out against her thighs, pushing up toward her hips. She gasped, feeling the sting of one of the straps of fabric snapping against her skin.

“I think my kitten was feeling neglected,” he sighed, “I mean look at this little outfit you have on. If you want a harness, daddy can make you one,” he said with a smile, the nickname he’d given himself making her pussy flutter, “But if I give you this, baby, you’ve gotta do something for me.”

“Anything,” she whispered in response, as Yoongi leaned forward, caging her underneath him.

His smile made her nervous. Yoongi was usually reasonable, generally not one to push her boundaries or try to manipulate her, but the way he was staring at her, like a predator about to devour some poor helpless thing he’d caught in his trap.

“You’re gonna let me put a pretty little tattoo right…” he whispered, trailing his pretty, tattooed fingers over the junction of her hip, pressing firmly into the spot where she knew he’d left a mark, “…here.”

She moaned softly, feeling him press into the tender flesh as she nodded. He’d already given her multiple tattoos, what was another to her? But at the same time, it felt different. More intimate somehow. Like he was laying claim to her and wanted the world to know.

“I’m not finished, pet,” he cooed, kissing her forehead, “You’re not gonna cover this one in any videos. So everyone can see my pretty little mark on my pretty little kitten.”

“Fuck, Yoongi. Whatever you want, I just want you,” she sighed, feeling his fingers tangle in her hair.

“Good girl,” he whispered before pressing his lips to hers firmly. She let her body relax in his hold, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer, feeling his clothed erection pressed her weeping cunt. She whined impatiently, rolling her hips against him. “Settle down kitten, I’ll give you my cock soon enough.”

She whined again, the brat in her deciding to make an appearance, “But Yoongs I want it now,” she pouted before a stinging slap was delivered to her inner thigh. Yoongi’s eyebrows were furrowed and his glare was dark, making her shrink. All the boldness, and bratiness she'd been feeling was gone instantly, “I’m sorry daddy, I didn’t mean it.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened slightly before he pressed another kiss to her forehead, “That’s right, you want to be my good kitten don’t you?” He asked, making her nod eagerly. “So don’t be a brat, and stay right there,” he snapped.

She suppressed a dissatisfied groan as he pushed himself away from her, standing up from his spot between her open knees. He smirked down at her evilly.

“If my kitten needs a harness, then she’ll get a harness,” he explained, disappearing into her bedroom before coming back with the soft pink rope she kept under her bed. She felt shame creep up her spine as her brain struggled to process what was happening.

“Where did you—“ she mumbled, but the words died in her throat as Yoongi pulled the shirt off his back. The black ink covering his arms and part of his chest never failed to make her brain power down instantly. And it really didn’t help that he’d been going to the gym recently.

Yoongi wasn’t especially tall, nor necessarily broad but how he held himself, the energy he projected, was massive; his aura was domineering, firm, and unwavering. Yoongi also wasn’t small by any means, not in the same way Jimin was. His giant hands easily wrapped around her throat, and on more than one occasion he’d lifted her with such ease it made her feel dizzy.

But seeing him towering over her, a baby pink rope in one hand and unbuttoning his pants with the other, dominance rolling off him in waves as she squirmed on the floor, naked at his feet pushed her so hard into subspace so quickly she almost felt nauseous.

“Kitten, you’re okay,” Yoongi cooed softly, dropping the rope in a pile next to her as he fell to his knees, wiping a tear she didn’t know had fallen from her face. “Why the tears, pet? You’re safe with me, you know that. You’ve got your safeword and I would never, ever, ignore that. Do you remember what it is, kitten? Can you tell me what your safeword is?”

“Peaches,” she hiccuped, nuzzling her face into Yoongi’s palm.

“That’s right kitten, good girl,” he smiled, pulling her into his lap. “We’re just trying something new, that’s all. And if you hate it, say the word and we’ll stop. But you asked me to take care of you, and I will, as long as you still want me to.”

The sharp mint and stale coffee she’d smelled on the flannel was heightened as she let it wash over her, clearing her mind and settling her nerves. He was right — they’d talked about limits before and established a safeword that she’d used on occasion, and never once had Yoongi been anything but respectful and considerate when she did. “I’m sorry, daddy,” she sniffled into his shoulder, before pressing her lips to his skin feverishly.

“Shh, none of that, kitten,” he sighed, “You know you don’t have to apologize for being scared. Do you want to continue for tonight? Or do you need daddy to hold you instead?”

She squirmed, feeling the unbuttoned denim against her exposed folds. “Please,” she whispered, beginning to suck a bruise into the soft skin of his neck. It was mostly hidden by the tattoos that swirled around the skin, but she could see the purple beginning to form when she pulled back with a pop. “I want you inside me.”

He threw his head back with a groan, his hand sneaking up her body before taking hold of her hair, yanking her back from his neck, “My good little kitty,” he smirked, staring in her eyes, “Now open your mouth.”

She obeyed immediately, staring at him with wide eyes before he pushed two his fingers into her mouth, her lips closing around them and sucking obediently.

He groaned again in response, pulling the digits out of her mouth before shoving them into her cunt hastily. She hissed in response to the sudden intrusion and the stretch, but it didn’t hurt — all of the teasing had her on edge already.

“Fuck, kitten,” he groaned, “You’re so wet, all for me,” he nearly growled, removing his fingers from inside her and shoving them in his mouth with a deep, reverberating moan. The sight of it had her shivering in anticipation, her hips rocking against him shallowly when his eyes snapped open. “You have 30 seconds to get on your bed, this thing,” he snarled, snapping the fabric against her skin, “off you, unless you want me to rip it apart.”

She didn’t stop to question him, scrambling off his lap and sprinting the short distance to her room. Her hands shook as she tried to pull the lingerie off her body. She knew he wasn’t joking — he’d ripped more pairs of underwear than she cared to count and had even ripped a pair of her shorts when he’d been desperate to fuck her after finishing the tattoo that sat prettily beneath her tits.

“Times up,” Yoongi whispered in her ear from behind her, making her jump as he grabbed her by the hips, lifting her off the floor.

He crossed the short distance to her bed before throwing her down on the comforter with a bounce. She barely had time to think before he was on top of her, hands gathering as much fabric as he could before tearing it with a single decisive tug. She gasped, a small frown growing on her face, “But those were expensive.”

“I’ll buy you more kitten,” he smirked, before his head dipped down, kissing his way across her chest, tongue and teeth trailing over the tattoos he had marked into her skin. She moaned and writhed in his hold, her hands tangling in his hair. He tsked, sitting back on his heels, pulling her hands out of his hair. “I didn’t tell you that you could touch me, and you still need to be patient.”

The tone of his voice made her shrink, tears welling in her eyes as he caged her in, “I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know I-I couldn’t—“

“You won’t get punished, kitten, because you’re right. I didn’t tell you. But you know now, and I expect you to follow my rules,” he said firmly, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, sucking her lip between her teeth and biting down hard to keep the tears from spilling. “Kitten, I need you to use your words, and I need you to tell me what’s got you so emotional. I’ve never seen you so scared of me, and I definitely haven’t seen you nearly cry because of the tone of my voice.”

She sucked in a stuttering breath before the tears started pouring down her face, curling in on herself. “I don’t know! I feel like you’re mad at me and it’s the only reason you’re willing to dominate me like this because you’re jealous and I don’t want to do that if it’s just because—“

“Whoa, slow down baby,” Yoongi hushed her easily, maneuvering her body so she was laying against his chest, “I’m not mad at you, and I’m a little jealous, but mostly because I could have been seeing this more often. Is that all, kitten?” He asked softly, trailing his fingertips over her face gently.

“You’re just… this isn’t how you usually act with me. It’s what I always try to get out of you, but you always stop yourself. I just… I feel like it’s because you’re—“

“I stop myself because you don’t ask for it. We’ve talked about kinks before and I didn’t want to push you because it’s something I wanted that you never said anything about,” he explained softly.

“But I told you I was a sub and—“

“Kitten, I can’t read your mind. If you want something from me, you need to ask,” he said seriously. “I don’t want to take more than you’re willing to give.”

“How about we both ask for what we want?” She asked hesitantly, looking up at him through her lashes as a smile broke across Yoongi’s face.

“I can work with that,” he sighed, ducking down to press a searing kiss to her lips. “Now, is there anything else? Or can I take care of my kitten now?” He smirked, pulling her back underneath him as his tongue ran down the column of her throat.

The anxiety that had bubbled in her chest settled as Yoongi’s hands splayed across her skin. His touch was less firm, less aggressive, and she didn’t realize how much she needed the Yoongi she knew. The one who brought her food because she was terrible at feeding herself, the one who bought her things she thought was pretty because he felt like it, and the one who’s touch never scared her, but made her feel alive.

She sighed blissfully, letting her head tip backwards and her limbs go slack. The pleasant, familiar fuzziness in her brain crept up slowly as Yoongi’s fingers brushed over her inner thighs, “I trust you.”

Yoongi moaned, his fingers digging into the plush skin of her thighs, “Fuck, I love when you say that,” he said, sucking bruises down her stomach before attaching his lips to the fading hickey on her inner thigh — the one where she was going to let him put a tattoo. “I love hearing how much my kitten needs me, trusts me, wants me,” he groaned into her skin, smirking at the mark before diving into her folds with his tongue.

Her hands flew up to grab the slotted headboard, a keening moan leaving her as her back arched off the bed, hips trying to chase after the stimulation as he pulled away. “Fuck, Yoongs, please!” She whined, but Yoongi simply laughed.

“I know kitten, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep edging you,” he cooed softly, patting her cheek almost condescendingly. The action made her cheeks heat and her eyes dart away from him. He always had a way of making her feel unbearably shy, bringing out kinks she never knew she had. “But I did promise to make you a pretty little harness, and I’ve got this pretty pink rope you hide under your bed.”

She whined, hooking her heels behind his back, trying to pull him closer, but he snatched one of her calves, bringing it up to sit on his shoulder as he kissed down the inside of her leg, hitting every spot she had a tattoo he’d done, despite them being covered with makeup.

“I know why you need to cover them, I wouldn’t want anyone to see and recognize you,” he sighed, sounding almost dejected, “but my marks look so pretty on you, and I want everyone to know that you’re mine, kitten.”

The tone of his voice made her tremble in anticipation and her body feel like it was floating; the possessiveness in his voice made her melt. She felt a wave of arousal seep into the comforter underneath her, a needy, desperate groan coming out of her against her will.

Yoongi simply smiled, slipping the rope under her back as he began to make a harness for her. Every brush of his fingers was torture, soothed only by the soft rope being tied to her body.

The more he worked, the more she was able to let go. The stress of her consistent lives, Seokjin’s new rules, and the concerning messages she kept receiving from one of her followers floated into nothingness. By the time she was done, she could barely keep her eyes open and her limbs felt like they were made of lead.

“My pretty little kitty feeling good?” He cooed, grabbing her face in his hand, squishing her cheeks gently. She hummed in response, a blissful smile on her face as he assessed her. “Good, I’m glad, now let’s see if you’re ready for me,” he smiled, sliding two of his fingers into her slowly.

A choked gasp was all she could manage, her eyes rolling back as his hand trailed from her jaw down to her throat, squeezing gently.

“That’s right, my good girl,” he whispered, working them inside her slowly as the heel of his hand ground onto her clit. She could barely speak to warn him before an abrupt orgasm was washing over her, her thighs quivering as she babbled nonsense and sucked in gasps.

She barely even noticed he’d pulled his fingers out of her until she felt his thick cock head at her entrance, her cunt stretching to allow him in. She moaned deeply, letting him press in slowly. The stretch felt incredible, and so distinctly Yoongi. She was immensely grateful for the feeling of every vein of Yoongi’s cock dragging against her walls.

“Fuck, daddy,” she gasped as he bottomed out, her body shaking as he held her against his body.

“One of these days, I’m gonna come over and you’re gonna sit on my cock all day,” he groaned, dropping his head into her neck, “how does that sound, hm? Not letting you go anywhere, or do anything, just impaled on my cock and drooling for me all day.”

“I want it,” she nodded, tears welling in her eyes as he started thrusting. Embarrassingly high pitched and desperate sounds came out of her against her will as he picked up his pace, the sound of skin slapping drowned out almost entirely by her.

“I know you do, kitten,” he smirked, “I’ll make you a pretty little harness, and get you a collar to match, keep you all fucked out and pliant for me,” he laughed. She nodded eagerly, her eyes rolling back in her head as he flipped them over so she was sitting in his lap, his back against the headboard

Whatever thoughts she had left in her head were gone after he changed position, the head of his cock pressing against her cervix, her mouth dropping open as the breath was sucked out of her.

She saw a sadistic smile spread across his face as he thrust into her sharply, causing the tears in her eyes to slip down her cheeks. “Oh, my pretty kitten is crying for my cock now? God you’re such a good girl,” he groaned, his tongue darting out to lick the tear off her skin.

The shocking tenderness mixed with the filthy depravity of his actions caused her heart to flutter and her pussy to clench around his length. “Fuck Yoongi, you’re going to ruin me.”

“That’s the idea,” he winked before capturing her hips, rocking her against him as he thrust shallowly. Every snap of his hips ripped a moan from her mouth, the tears falling freely down her face now. The sounds Yoongi was making pushed her closer to the edge — the deep, guttural, raspy voice of his was full of want. But what pushed her over the edge was the growl of her name as he bit her neck.

The sharp pain mingling with pleasure was enough to make her unravel, his name coming out of her mouth in a screech as she clung to him, her nails digging into the skin of his back, just under a tattoo she’d never seen before, leaving little red crescents in their wake.

Yoongi’s hands tightened around her — she was sure they’d leave bruises — as he came inside her. His hips stuttered against her, riding out their orgasms together. She loved the way he held her like he wanted to make her part of him — like he wanted to consume her. It made her feel safe, loved even.

The self consciousness she battled constantly crept up her spine as she let herself be held. She knew he didn’t love her — she didn’t think anyone would ever be able to love her, not really. Not when her own family hadn’t been able to manage that. But sometimes the way Yoongi held her made her believe it was possible, even for a second.

“Are you okay, kitten? You’re still crying,” Yoongi asked after they both regained their breath, rubbing her lower back gently. She nodded, suppressing a sniffle as she willed herself to stop the tears from coming out. “Hey, talk to me,” he whispered, pulling her back from his neck with a gentle tug on the harness.

“It’s nothing, I'm just emotional,” she shrugged, forcing a smile onto her face, as he stared into her eyes.

“Nope. If we’re gonna do this, you can’t lie to me,” he said seriously. “I know you don’t like letting people into this fortress of yours, but I’m not going anywhere. Whatever it is, I can take it.”

She bit her lip in an attempt to stop the watery smile that grew on her face at his aggressive affection, but couldn’t find the words to say. Instead, she pushed herself forward, moulding her lips with his.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she whispered against his lips before pulling away, giggling at the light pink on his neck and cheeks.

“Come on, kitten, we need to get you cleaned up and get new shit on the bed. We made a mess,” he smirked, easing out of her with a hiss. She felt herself tighten involuntarily, resulting in a firm slap to her ass, “Don’t fucking clench around me you brat,” he warned before pulling out all the way.

“You’re the one who wants to spend a whole day with me split open on your cock,” she huffed, feeling his cum seep out of her onto the already ruined sheets — thank fuck for IUD’s.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you get to be a brat while I’m trying to clean you up,” he chastised lightly, hauling her off the bed by her hands.

She took one shaky step forward before her legs gave out, nearly crumpling to the floor before Yoongi’s arms wrapped around her waist. “You fucked the bones out of my legs Yoongi,” she glared at him, “again.”

“Not my fault. You were begging for me,” he grinned, picking her up by the backs of her thighs and carrying her to the bathroom.

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled into his neck before she gasped, her ass making contact with the freezing cold marble of her bathroom sink.

“You deserve that,” he chuckled, turning on the shower before turning back to her, his eyes going dark for a moment. “Fuck, seeing you all tied up…” he trailed off, his fingers slipping under the middle of the harness before pulling her flush to his chest. “I just wanna keep you like this, just for me.”

“We’ll have to do it again, then,” she smiled, kissing him softly. He hummed, biting her lip softly before pulling back. “But please take this off me so we can shower. I’m sweaty.”

“Whatever you want kitten,” he agreed, undoing the knots with ease, the rope going slack around her before pooling on the counter. Without another word, he picked her up and carried her into the steaming shower.

She sighed, letting the hot water cascade down her back as she tightened her limbs around Yoongi who tried to put her down.

He laughed, kissing her temple, “Kitten, I’m gonna need to put you down to wash your hair,” he cooed.

“Fuck my hair,” she mumbled, exhaustion overwhelming her as the hot water released the tension from her muscles.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hear complaints tomorrow when—“

“I’m sure,” she sighed, making him chuckle again.

“Whatever you say,” he agreed, “just hold onto me.”

Carefully, he unwound his arms from her, reaching around her to grab the washcloth and soap before rubbing it across her skin, allowing her to mouth along the tattoos that decorated his collarbones and shoulders, hands buried in his white blond hair.

He washed her silently, humming contentedly when she would tighten her grip around him, before turning off the water and wrapping her in a fluffy towel. Her fingers lazily traced over the tattoo across his shoulders, unable to figure out what it was from her vantage point. “Is this new, Yoongs?” She asked.

“Yeah, not finished yet. Got a few sessions left,” he answered, sounding uninterested, before turning his attention back to her, “I’m gonna clean all this up and get you some food, because knowing you, you haven’t fucking eaten today,” he muttered, glaring at her as she shrugged sheepishly, “Yeah that’s what I thought,” he rolled his eyes, setting her down on the chair by her bed and kissing her forehead.

“Will you toss me my phone if you see it?” She asked as he walked into the living room. He nodded as he disappeared around the corner. “What’d you bring me to eat, daddy?” She teased, getting a choke and cough in response.

His head reappeared in her door frame, his face impassive, “You’re a menace. Here’s your phone,” he deadpanned, tossing her the thin black phone before disappearing again, a giggle leaving her lips.

“By the way, good job, kitten, I’m proud of you!” Yoongi called from the kitchen as she plugged her phone into the cord, waiting for it to turn back on.

“For what? Taking your cock so well I can’t walk?” She called back, hearing him laugh distantly.

“Well yeah, always proud of you for that. Even if you cry while you take it,” he said in response, and she could see the smug smile on his face in her head, “But I’m proud of you for fixing your microwave! The time is finally right.”

Her blood went cold as his words permeated her brain. She hadn’t changed the microwave clock, definitely not since she’d seen Seokjin. Her heart raced as panic flooded her brain.

Her fingertips went numb as she lost her grip on the phone in her hands, but Yoongi snatched it out of the air before it collided with the hardwood. The single notification on the screen nearly made her heart stop.

devoted2u: If you were mine, I’d never let another man touch you. You’d never need anyone other than me. I would be the only one you want. And God help anyone who tries to take you from me.

—

Previous | Next

Tag list: @bibbykins @smasmashie @whatudowhennooneseesyou @here2bbtstrash @eureka-its-zico

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #Min yoongi x reader #Min Yoongi smut #suga x reader #suga smut #bts angst #bts imagine #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts non idol au #bts thriller #bts ot7 x reader #possess your heart #bangtan smut #bts series

413 notes · View notes