#but anyway the book fucking slaps so far

[liones-s]

Dracula and chai! Dracula and chai! fantastic tuesday

#I’m so tired I’m so sorry #barely stringing my words together into a thought #sure hope I’m right that it’s Tuesday #but anyway the book fucking slaps so far #having a great time #classic literature #Dracula #studyblr #dark academia #literature #cafes

[aurorawritestoescape]

BAD BLOOD pt 3

Pairing: step uncle Joel Miller x f!reader x stepdad Tommy Miller

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), perv!Joel, dark!Joel, dark!reader, dubconned!Tommy, mention of f!oral, mention of mfm, fingering, semi public, cum eating, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, alcohol consumption, swearing, reader wears makeup.

Summary: Joel and Tommy take you out and things get heated.

Word count: 5,8k

A/n: it took me longer than I planned but pt 3 is finally here. I really hope you’ll like it! Kisses and hugs to everyone who has given love to the series💖 I’m very grateful!! Special thank you to @milla-frenchy for the support! Ily baby❤️

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST

*****

You’re sitting at your vanity putting final touches to your makeup. Butterflies are dancing in your stomach and your pussy is tingling as the anticipation of the night electrifies your nerves.

You can’t believe that it’s finally going to happen. You’ve been imagining it for so long. Every holiday, every family visit to your college, every time you saw your stepdad the desire for him ignited your core. You imagined him taking you in your bed, claiming your pussy under the secrecy of the night. You wished he would send your mom to hell, close the door in her face and take you in your dorm room. You dreamt of him fucking you on your desk and making you squirt all over the books. You’ve craved that cock and the man attached to it for so long and today you’re finally going to get it all.

***

“Can you hurry up?” Joel’s booming voice startles you and your hand jerks making your eyeliner too thick. “Tommy’s waiting at the car and getting on my nerves, fidgety fucker.”

You see your step uncle’s reflection in the mirror and exclaim not turning to him, “Fuck! Stop creeping on me! Go away!”

Despite your words you quickly check him out through the mirror. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and a cardigan with the lowest V neck you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters when you see his naked chest.

The man curses and steps into your bedroom shutting the door behind him. You turn swiftly, raising your hand in a stop gesture.

“No. Get out! You’re not coming on my face again. I just did my makeup,” you turn back to the mirror and start fixing your ruined eyeliner barely moving your lips to talk, “tonight is about Tommy and me anyway.”

“In love with your stepdad. Fuckin’ hell!” Joel chuckles, walking to your bed. He sits down and places the elbows on his thighs. His voice gets serious, “I want you to remember what you promised me, angel. No back outs.”

“I’m not in love, Joel. Just wanna fuck him. I’m gonna do everything the way we planned, ok? I can’t believe he’s still talking to you. After what you’ve done.”

Joel rubs his beard hiding a smile. “Told him you wanted to find out if he’d fuck you and I obliged. Then I just made big eyes ‘What?! She recorded it? No way! What a bitch!’ He ate it up,” he adds, looking pleased with himself.

You finally turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Oh, so he thinks you’re innocent?!”

“Tommy knows that I’m far from innocent. But you…”, he points his index finger at you, “your stunt shocked him. His sweet stepdaughter, blackmailing him into fucking her.. Shit!” He adjusts himself and you lick your lips shooting a glance at his bulge.

You turn back to the mirror and silence fills the bedroom while you’re applying your lipstick. You feel Joel's heavy gaze on you until his gruff voice breaks it, “This color will look great smeared on my balls, baby.”

You scoff at his words but don’t say anything. You can’t deny that the desire to suck him off has been growing exponentially since the moment he slapped you in the backyard. Especially when you saw his fat cock that morning. Now you really want that bonus he promised stuffed into your pussy.

When the makeup is done you get up and walk to the bed. Your short black dress with sheer sleeves is laid out next to Joel who’s manspreading his thick thighs. His knee touches your bare leg and you step away furrowing your brows and whine, “Can you leave? I need to change.” Your voice lacks confidence as in reality you want him to stay and watch but it’s hard to admit that this man who looks more like a pimp than a contractor makes your pussy tingle.

“What’s the matter, angel? We’re family, no need to be shy around me.”

You roll your eyes and shift on your feet contemplating your next move. After a few moments your hands rise up to untie your robe. You open it not turning away from Joel and throw it off your shoulders fully exposing yourself. The robe pools at your feet as you’re looking at him with defiance.

Joel’s expression is serious and pensive. He takes you in like you’re an object on display in a shop window. You hold your breath fearing that any degrading comment thrown your way now might really hurt you. But a wave of relief washes over you when you see him breathe in sharply, lean back on his hand, spreading his legs wider and palming his bulge.

“What if I give you my bonus right now, angel. I feel generous.”

Triumph seizes you when you see the signs of his desire - your power over him. You have an upper hand and now it’s your turn to smirk.

“Don’t think so, step uncle. Need to ask my daddy first.”

You turn around and walk to the dresser hearing the man chuckle. You feel his gaze on your ass and push it out a little to give him a better view.

You open the top drawer and look through your panties and bras wanting to choose a perfect set for tonight.

You hear your bed creak and then the heat of Joel’s body warms up your bare back and ass.

“Want me to help you choose, angel? I know what my brother likes.”

“I was thinking this one,” you muse picking up a red lacy set and showing it to him.

“Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Suits you well. Slutty,” he comments and then leans lower, his lips are brushing your ear as he whispers, “but don’t forget your role, angel. You’re his innocent stepdaughter. He thinks he hates that he wants to fuck you but he fuckin’ loves it. He’s as twisted as me, just hides it.”

He raises his arms at your sides caging you between his massive biceps and searches through the drawer. He’s looking over your shoulder and when his hot wet exhale hits your naked breasts, your nipples get hard. He picks up a light pink mesh set, decorated with cute little white hearts.

“Wear this one and he’ll bust his nut as soon as he sees you”.

“I kinda need him to last,” you murmur but decide to follow his advice.

The thoughts are jumbled in your head as Joel’s low voice and hot breath on your naked skin are making you weak. You press your thighs together chasing any relief from the ache in your core. You feel cold air on your wet pussy. His bulge grazes the hollow of your ass and you bite your lip trying to swallow a whimper that is crawling up your throat.

“Yeah, it’s a good one,” you say, your voice soft and breathy. You want to take the lingerie from him but he doesn’t let you and pulls his hand away.

“I’ll help, angel.” You hear shuffling and turn around slightly to see him get on one knee behind you. He looks up at you, still dominant even in this position and your breath hitches.

Suddenly his hands grip your thighs and he turns you around. His face is so close to your pussy now your clit tingles and you gush more.

He drops his head and brings the panties to your feet. Your mouth parts with a surprise.

“Come on,” he hurries you and you step into the underwear, one foot and then the other. He hums with satisfaction and pulls them up, his hands brushing your legs and tickling your skin making it erupt in goosebumps. He notices your body’s reaction to his touch and stops his hands mid thigh looking straight at your pussy.

“Joel,” you whine as a sudden surge of shyness grasps you.

He seems not to hear. He leans closer to your mound and you gasp when his nose pushes into the spot just above your seam.

Then he plants a soft kiss on your mound and you take a deep breath as the desire overwhelms you. You want his mouth on you with fierce desperation, your mind is empty and only one thought is swirling through it, “do it do it, do it.”

You shut your eyes ready to drown in pleasure and hear his soft and seductive voice as his breath warms your skin, “Who’s gonna eat your pussy tonight, angel, me or your stepdaddy?”

You can’t help but imagine them both between your thighs and you moan dropping down your head and running your fingers through his hair.

To your disappointment Joel pulls the panties up and doesn’t stop until your pussy lips swallow the sheer fabric. It presses on your clit and you take a sharp breath as a surge of need ignites your core.

You lift one leg, brace your hand on the dresser behind you and put your thigh over his broad shoulder giving him a perfect view of your pussy. Then your hand darts to pull the material to the side and you bite your lower lip as his hot breath hits your wet skin. Joel growls and raises his eyes at you. His gaze is so dark the irises are hardly visible. You’re sure your pupils are as blown as his.

“Want uncle to lick your pretty pussy?” he asks softly but you hear a trace of mockery in his voice. Your need suffocates your pride and you answer him by gliding your foot up and down his muscular back.

He hums and leans closer to your center. You hold your breath in anticipation and run your fingers through his hair ready to tug on them when he finally eats you out. But you furrow your brows and blink in confusion when he presses his cheek to your folds and stills. “What are you..?”

Suddenly he moves his head up and down against your sensitive pussy rubbing it with his rough scruff. You cry out and jump back away from him.

“What the fuck, Joel?! It hurts!” you’re fuming looking at your burning folds while he chuckles getting up from the floor with a grunt.

“Just wanted to save your scent, baby,” he laughs rubbing his beard and you shout at him to get out putting on a bra.

“You have 5 minutes,” he says, still chuckling as he leaves the room.

***

When you finally step outside the house you see the brothers smoking by Joel’s truck. Jess took your stepdad’s car to go on a spa retreat and her plans to waste Tommy’s money pampering herself coincided perfectly with your plans to fuck her husband.

You bite your lip when you see Tommy wearing a black western shirt and dark jeans. Your heart sings at the thought that he wanted to look good to take you out.

Tommy quickly looks you over, trying to hide his interest but you notice his gaze slide over your body tightly enveloped by the slinky dress.

Joel on the other hand doesn’t hide anything. “Looking good, baby,” he comments shamelessly adjusting his bulge.

“Let’s go,” you say, coming up to the truck and batting your lashes at Tommy, “Daddy, will you keep me company in the back?”

“Sweetheart...” Tommy starts talking with an unsure expression but you pout your lips, mouthing, “please”.

He sighs and gets in the back seat. A little part of you wonders if he’s pushed by your threat or genuine desire to be close to you. But you shut this little voice down reminding yourself that the result is what’s important.

When you get into the car your dress rides up exposing even more of your thighs but you don’t bother tugging it down.

Joel starts the engine and backs out of the driveway while you’re looking around at the interior of his truck. It’s surprisingly tidy and you’re genuinely impressed until your gaze raises up and to your shock you see your panties hanging on the rear view mirror. Your jaw drops and you’re about to shout at Joel when you stop yourself. You realize that the perv must have picked them up from the floor of your room that morning and you’re not eager to let your stepdad know about your fun time with your step uncle.

So you shut your mouth and see Joel winking at you in the mirror.

Tommy on the other hand reacts as soon as he sees it, “God, Joel, take this thing off!”

“Why?” His older brother asks with defiance driving through the town streets with one hand on the wheel.

Tommy just sighs, not even trying to come up with a reason.

You’re squirming in your seat praying that Joel doesn’t mention whose panties are now swinging in front of the windshield. You almost moan with relief when he turns on some classic rock and doesn’t say anything.

Your eyes keep shooting at Tommy from time to time who’s looking out of the window. You hate that he’s so far so you unbuckle your seat belt and slide over closer to him. You trace a wedding band on his finger getting his attention. He snaps his head your way, brows furrowed.

“Get back in your seat. ‘s dangerous.”

You take his hand and bring it up to your lips as he’s watching you closely. You press your cheek to his knuckles and rub your face against his hand.

“Love when you worry about me, daddy,” you purr into his hand and then place it on your thigh that’s further from him.

You put your hand over his and make him squeeze your naked flesh.

“Keep me safe, please,” you breathe out feeling his palm against your skin, so close to your pussy and at the same time torturously far.

“I ain’t a seat belt, sweetie,” Tommy mumbles looking down at your skin erupting in goosebumps under his touch. He takes a sharp breath and lifts his hips before spreading his legs a little wider. You notice his bulge has grown bigger and you close your eyes for a second trying to calm down but sink even deeper in the sticky pit of desire. You think about moving his hand to your inner thigh and then closer towards your pussy. His fingers would immediately find your panties soaked and if he slid his thumb under the fabric he could easily find your throbbing clit and …

“Hey, lovebirds!” Joel rumbles and you snap your eyes open as he interrupts your daydreaming.

Tommy clears his throat feeling his brother's eyes on him in the car mirror and his hand flies away from your thigh. You curse Joel inwardly for ruining the moment.

Joel’s head turns to you slightly as he asks, “how about we skip the restaurant and get a motel, huh?”

You know that you’re the one he’s asking because Tommy has no say in any of this thanks to the recording you have on your phone.

“I’m not some cheap hooker you picked up at a gas station, Joel. I can’t just jump into bed with you,” you reply, putting your seatbelt back on.

Joel laughs and your stomach burns with rage. You’re fed up with his mocking, his attitude, his cockiness.

“What’s so fucking funny, old man?” You spit out at him grinding your teeth.

“Fuck, baby,” he says locking eyes with you in the mirror, “I don’t remember buying you dinner before I jizzed all over your pretty face a few days ago?”

“You WHAT?!” Tommy exclaims and your heart falls into your stomach. As long as you’ve known him you never heard him raise his voice like that, maybe only watching sports but never at a person. Especially Joel. He scoots forward in his seat to get closer to Joel and grabs his arm. “Have you fucked her already?” Joel seems absolutely unfazed as he replies in his usual “fuck y’all” tone, “No, I haven, Tommy, relax. We just fooled around. The princess wanted to come and I helped her.”

Tommy’s head snaps in your direction and you squeeze your body into the seat as fear grips your heart. He looks livid, eyes are scorching you under the furrowed brows, lips form a tight line in anger or disappointment. You feel small under his stare and stammer weakly, “d..daddy, he didn’t… ”

He suddenly gets closer to you, leans in, grabs your hand and squeezes it in his. It’s not painful but his strength and wrath make your breath hitch and your pussy clenches around nothing as the fear affects you like an aphrodisiac.

“If he fucks your needy hole before I do, believe my words, sweetie, I won’t touch you. You can put that recording of me on national television I don’t give a fuck. Got it?” He throws the words at you as his eyes are boring into yours.

You whimper as his face is so close you feel his breath on your parted lips. Realizing that he’s waiting for your answer you nod hastily and he gets back in his seat.

You feel your world tilting and turning upside down. Your stepdad, the calmest, softest man you know just shouted at his brother and said all that to you.

Tommy’s still fuming, clenching and unclenching his fist resting on his thigh and you wonder why it stirred him up that much. Why has his possessiveness burst out now? It was the first time you witnessed his passion for you. Is it sibling rivalry? Insecurity? Or did he finally let himself do what he’d wanted? You ask yourself these questions before you see Joel watch you through the mirror. He looks smug and you try to make your expression neutral not to give him the satisfaction.

You glance out of the window and your anxiety spikes up again seeing that you’re almost at the place you’ve picked.

“Oh, fuck no!” Tommy exclaims seeing where you three are going. “Are you fucking kidding me? You know that it’s Jess’ favorite place. How am I gonna look with you grinding against me all night?” He’s shooting daggers at you and you take a deep breath trying to find the right words.

“Tommy, listen. This restaurant is the only ok place in this shithole of a town. And I promise I’ll behave,”

Mistrust is painted on his face but seeing you shaken and nervous calms him down a bit.

“No ‘daddies’!” he demands pointing his finger at you.

“No “daddies,” you promise with sadness in your voice.

He points his finger at Joel next, “You too! None of your usual shit!”

Joel raises his hands and brows acting like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. You scuff but turn your pleading gaze at Tommy.

“And we leave when I say we leave!”

You hate losing your upper hand in the situation but your pussy is throbbing for him now, so dominant and rough, and you decide to submit this time.

You all get out of the car and Tommy stomps to the restaurant still angry. Having stayed alone with Joel you use the opportunity and grab his arm to stop him.

“Why have you said it? About the morning? I thought we were on the same page.”

“We are, angel.” Joel replies, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in the direction of the entrance, “I know my brother. He always wants something I don’t have. He must be ecstatic seeing how hungry you’re for him. I just fiddled with his toy a bit and now he wants it even more.”

His hand grabs your ass and you slap it off getting away from him as you see Tommy watch you two waiting at the door.

You can’t believe that Joel is manipulating his brother so easily. But his words have reassured you and you feel less agitated.

When the brothers and you step into the restaurant, a host greets Tommy by the name and you see the confusion hiding behind his features at Mr Miller’s unusual company.

He asks about Jess and you cringe rolling your eyes so far up your head, the host gets even more flustered.

He leads you to your table and you settle down.

A waiter brings you the menus and you order a glass of red wine, adding “Please, you two, no hard liquor, we have a long night ahead of us,” Tommy chokes on his water as the waiter slightly raises his eyebrow.

Joel gets a beer and Tommy follows suit. When the waiter leaves your stepdad glares at you.

“You promised to behave.”

“I am behaving. I just don’t want you to forget why we’re here.”

Joel chimes in, leaning back against his chair with a grunt, “And why exactly are we here, baby?”

“I want us to get to know each other better.”

“We’re family, angel, I know everything there is about you.”

“Really? What’s my favorite color, Joel,” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“The color of my brother’s dick?” Joel asks and you burst into giggles while Tommy mumbles profanities under his breath.

When the drinks arrive Joel starts asking Tommy about his work and you’re surprised to notice how the older brother eases him up. They talk and you listen, not really getting through the meaning of a bunch of contractor terms but you smile when they do and laugh when they say something funny.

Soon you’re drinking and talking and it actually feels comfortable. They reminisce about their life in Austin and you ask them questions genuinely interested in their past.

At one point Joel acts like a perfect wing man telling you a hot story of Tommy getting arrested for starting a bar fight because of a girl and you tingle all over. Your stepdad gives you a shy smile and your breath hitches.

Suddenly you feel Joel’s piercing gaze on you.

“What about you, angel? Got any fun college stories for us?” Tommy looks uncomfortable and you remember your promise to him to behave so you say softly,

“I’m a good girl, uncle Joel. I’m there to study, not to waste my time on boys.” You drop your gaze acting so innocent even you don’t believe yourself.

Joel chuckles and Tommy glances up at you with a little smile.

“Ok, our good girl. What about girls? Bet you’ve licked some pussies after a wild party.”

“Fuck, Joel,” Tommy curses and you bite your lip trying not to smile at the way your stepdad squirms in his chair. The wine makes you bolder and you decide to spice up the night.

“How about we play a game? I answer your question and then you two answer mine?” you offer fidgeting in your chair giddy with excitement.

“Shoot, baby.”

“No!”

The men reply at the same time. Tommy’s shaking his head and Joel slightly punches his brother’s shoulder.

“Come on, Tommy. Let’s hear how naughty our good girl gets. I remember you were fine with her… how did you put it… exploring herself.”

Your eyes are glinting with excitement as Joel quotes that dialogue. You remember it by heart now having listened and come to it so many times you lost count.

“Go ahead, angel,” Joel nods, motioning you to speak.

You take a deep breath and start talking softly.

“I’ve been with a girl just once. We weren’t wasted or anything,” You shoot a glance at Joel and then continue, “We were in her room watching a movie and then it kinda happened.” You suddenly feel shy as not only Joel’s but also Tommy’s gaze is glued to you.

“Nah, baby. We need details.” Joel’s voice, seducing and gruff, pulls the words out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“We started making out.. then I tugged her shirt down and sucked on her nipples,” you muse tracing the edge of the wet glass with your finger. “I kissed her stomach, then her pussy… She was so wet. So soft on my tongue. I sucked on her clit and fingered her for some time and she came…her pussy was clamping on my fingers so hard.”

When you lift your eyes you see the brothers stare at you with hungry obsidian eyes as if they’re ready to pounce on you at any moment. Joel palms himself through the jeans and Tommy doesn’t tear his eyes off you as they slide from your lips to your breasts and back up again.

For a few moments you three are soaking in this horny silence until you break it clapping your hands together.

“My turn!”

Tommy takes a big gulp of his beer and Joel raises his brows waiting for your question.

“Have you ever fucked a girl together? Like… shared her?” you quickly regret your question as only saying it already is making you uncomfortably wet.

You’re looking at Joel expecting him to answer but suddenly hear your stepdad’s voice,

“Yeah, we have. Once.”

Your head snaps his way and you gawk at him. You don’t say anything and just wait for him to continue. And he does.

“She was Joel’s girlfriend at the time. We went to a bar, got really drunk and fucked in the bathroom.”

Tommy glances up at you and then quickly averts his eyes.

“Fuck…,” you moan rubbing your thighs together imagining them using some lucky girl like that and ask,

“How did you do it?”

Joel leans closer to you placing his massive arms on the table and replies savoring every word while his velvety voice hits you right in the pussy, “I made her bend over to suck Tommy off and then shoved my dick deep into her cunt. He fucked her throat, I fucked her hole and we pumped her full.”

The moment Joel finishes talking you hear the waiter’s shaky voice asking if you’d like anything else.

Tommy curses and sends him away. He acts polite but his voice strains with rage.

He hastily gets up and mumbling the word ‘bathroom’ leaves you two. Before he turns away you spot his massive bulge and swallow loudly.

You take a deep breath trying to calm down.

“Angel, you look pale,” Joel laughs at you and then shakes his head, “you want him, he wants you, what are all these fuckin’ games for? You coulda been stuffed with our cocks by now but no, little princes wanted to be wined and dined. Lets hope he doesn’t change his mind about tonight. If our plan goes to shit because of you, uncle Joel will get very angry. And you surely don’t want that, missy.” Joel’s expression is serious and you remember that he has his personal motive and his concern quickly becomes yours.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say, getting up from the table.

You come up to the bathroom and knock. It’s quiet so you knock again until you hear the lock click.

Tommy opens the door and steps out of the room but you gently push him back in.

“Please, let’s talk,”

You hear people’s voices and not wanting to be caught with you alone at the bathroom Tommy begrudgingly steps back and shuts the door behind you two.

“What?!” He grumps and steps up to the sinks. He opens the tap and bends down to wash his face.

You lean back against the door watching him and contemplating your next move. He’s about to snap and you’re afraid what unexpected fit he could throw again. You know he wants you and you need to be wise rather than play on his nerves. “You’re his innocent stepdaughter,” Joel’s words emerge from your mind.

You come up to him slowly and wait while he’s drying his face with a hand towel.

“I’m not a monster, Tommy. I don’t wanna ruin your life,” you speak softly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, anger still painted on his face.

You inch closer, press your forehead to his shoulder and whisper breathing in his scent,

“I want you, Tommy. So fucking much.”

You feel vulnerable at the moment but that’s exactly what he wants you to be right now.

“So that’s why you spread your legs for my brother? ‘Cause you wanted me?”

You sniff not saying anything for a few moments, then lift your head, and glance up at him. His face is blurry as you’re looking at him through the tears.

“I was just horny, daddy. And when he was fingering me, I was imagining you fucking my pussy.”

Tommy’s breath hitches and you hold yours as well hoping he’ll react.

“Fuck, babygirl,” your stepdad whispers as his rage shifts into sympathy, his eyes sad and blown out.

The next moment he grabs you under your thighs, lifts you and sets you on the counter. He’s standing between your legs as you place your hands on his shoulders. His thumb wipes a tear from your cheek as the other hand is pressed to your lower back. You open your legs wider and the dress pulls up at your hips exposing your light pink panties.

“Shhh, don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here,” he whispers, kissing your cheek gently and his head drops as he’s looking at your pussy, “I want you too.”

His smell, his touch, his confession make you ecstatic and you press your parted lips to his. They’re soft and plump as his tongue breaches your lips and he licks into your whimpering mouth. You grab his ass and pull him closer to your heated center. You feel him hard against your pussy and start grinding on his stiff bulge.

“What do you need, babygirl? Tell me,” Tommy says, parting from your lips.

“Touch me, please… can’t wait any longer,” you whine, pulling your dress up to the waist. His hands rush to free your pussy and you lift your hips before Tommy takes your panties off.

The cold marble under your ass makes you hiss but you forget about it as soon as Tommy’s fingers push between your folds and he rubs your clit making you moan.

“You like it, babygirl? Daddy’s finally touching your needy pussy.”

You can’t form any words so you just moan and nod your head frantically. His forehead is pressed against yours as you’re both watching his digits glide down to your hole and without hesitation he pushes his middle finger inside you. You’re so wet it slides in easily and he starts massaging your walls.

“More please,” you plead and he groans as his index finger joins the first.

“Good girl! You're sucking me in so well, can’t wait to bury my cock inside you,” Tommy murmurs in your ear and you whimper before you see the door opening. Your heart freezes in your chest as you’re about to get caught being fingered by your stepdad. But you breathe out with relief seeing Joel stepping into the bathroom.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he grumbles coming up to you two. He stands next to Tommy, his bulge pressed to your thigh. Through the haze of pleasure you feel Joel’s hand cup your tears stricken cheek and he leans to your ear and whispers, “Clever girl.”

Then his big palm squeezes your naked thigh as he asks you,

“Enjoying daddy’s fingers, angel? Who’s better at fingering your tight little hole, him or your uncle?”

Tommy groans and suddenly his lips are on yours. His kiss is hungry, desperate, claiming. You melt into it feeling your climax build as his fingers are pushing on the soft spot inside you.

You moan into his mouth and Tommy’s lips leave yours as he mumbles, “I’ll feed your pussy my cock.. soon, babygirl… just wait.”

“You’ll be full by the end of the night, angel,” Joel smirks and pulls down the neckline of your dress exposing your naked breasts to the men. He starts twitching your nipple as his brother is working your pussy.

Joel watches your face twist with pleasure, your teeth biting your lips mercilessly.

“Don’t ruin your pretty lips, angel,” he says, bringing his thumb to your mouth. He brushes your swollen lower lip and pulls it out from between your teeth, “Here.” He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you welcome it. You start sucking on his thick digit making the filthiest noises.

With your stepdad’s fingers fucking your hole and step uncle's thumb stuffing your mouth you feel yourself about to unravel. Tommy pushes you over the edge pressing his thumb to your clit and swirling it a few times.

“Come, babygirl. Make daddy proud,” Tommy says and your explode clumping hard on his fingers and moaning, your pretty noises muffled by Joel’s thumb still pressed to your tongue. The man praises you, “That’s our girl. Perfect little slut.”

The orgasm is hitting you hard and you’re shaking and trembling so Tommy wraps his arm around your waist holding you tight but still pleasuring you.

They both are watching Tommy’s digits rhythmically disappear inside your dripping hole and your pussy squelches as your creamy cum, pushed out by the intrusion, slides down your ass towards the counter. Finally your climax subsides and your body stills, jerking with aftershocks from time to time.

Joel's thumb leaves your mouth and he holds the back of your neck while you’re trying to catch your breath.

Tommy pulls out his fingers too and lifts them up for the three of you to see. Under the bright lights you see his digits glazed with your juices. A drop of your slick slides down his middle finger and Tommy licks it off and then brings his digits to your mouth. You happily suck them clean while they both are praising you, “that’s our girl”, “like that, angel”, “came so hard for daddy and uncle.”

When you’re done cleaning your stepdad’s fingers off your cum, he cups your cheek and asks softly, “ready to go home, babygirl?” You look at Tommy, whose adoring and hungry gaze makes you tingle again, then at Joel, who’s eating you up with his blown out eyes, his hand palming his huge bulge, and the anticipation of the night ahead makes your heart and pussy flutter.

Batting your eyelashes at the men you give them a shy smile and say “yes.”

******

Thank you for reading!💖

Your comments and reblogs will make me very happy! I’d love to know what you think!❤️

Part IV

General tag list: @nervousmumbling @harriedandharassed @bbyanarchist

Series tag list: @milla-frenchy @missannwinchester @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page

If you want to be tagged for the series or for everything let me know!💕

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller x you x tommy miller #dark tommy miller #dark joel miller #dark!joel #dark!reader fics #dark reader #dark!reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader x tommy #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #joel tlou #hbo the last of us

[kitkatscabinet]

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you. 

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive. 

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead. 

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side. 

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done. 

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles. 

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants. 

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest. 

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired. 

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again. 

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again. 

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person. 

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet. 

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you. 

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them. 

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

#x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kat’s writing #cod ghost #cod simon riley #simon riley

[milkywaydrabbles]

AHHHH!! all your rindou drabbles for kinktober are amazinggg , but that hanma shuji was the best one so far 😩!! can i request a #8,#17, and #37 with my man shuji 🙏🙏!

A/N: I'm posting this from the spirit realm please do not perceive me and the monster of a 4k fic I made for him I didn't mean to ;A; I like him a normal amount I promise. Anyways here's the fic I hope you like mwuahh. I also did the alternate universe of Hanma I'm sure that's not what you were exactly expecting but I wanted to keep it out of the realm of gangs just this once! I still tried to keep him a little mean hehe

Virginity/Orgasm denial/overstimulation x Hanma Shuji

You met Hanma when you went to the same school years ago, and being the shit head that he was, always picked on you for fun. It was never malicious the way it was when he was actively picking fights with other boys in gangs, but it was so fucking annoying you couldn’t help but cry with how frustrated you felt. He’d poke fun at you more, looming over you with how tall he was and just tease you until you stormed off. You remember that well, and definitely not fondly. Eventually you saw him less and less at school, and then he stopped coming altogether. The wave of relief that you felt when you were able to just go about your days in peace and quiet was immeasurable. Over time, and over the years, you thought of him less and less and forget him all the same, graduating high school, going to college, finding a job--Hanma was no longer a presence in your life.

Not until adulthood.

You were on your way home, feet dragging with how exhausted you had been feeling at the end of the week--work was hell, but you were grateful for the next two days off. You just needed to make it home in one piece. Of course that was asking for too much, because when you turned the corner your phone went flying out of your hand when you crashed into a brick of a body in front of you with a gasp. “Oh, shit” You hissed, scrambling to grab your phone with a flurry of apologies spewing out of your mouth. The body didn’t seem to acknowledge you, or so you thought, until you heard your name come out of a foreign mouth in a whisper. You paused, actually terrified now to look at who you bumped into, but looked up anyways--to someone you couldn’t recognize. 

“Shit, it is you.” He breathed out with a laugh, smile appearing on his face. You frowned, brows burrowing up in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You tried not to be defensive, you really did, but life had turned sour on you at a young age and you didn’t trust any men these days anyways. So you crossed your arms and stood your ground, looking like you were ready to fight at any given moment. The man couldn’t help but cackle, it was like life had slapped him in the face--you weren’t the shy skittish little girl he remembered anymore. You had grown up, fended for yourself, obviously not afraid to get into arguments with men you supposedly didn’t know. He feigned hurt after his laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and jutted his lips in a pout. “Come on, you really don’t remember me? You threw your backpack on me real hard in middle school you know. I think I still have a scar from your book.” Ready to turn away with a middle finger you barely acknowledged what he said, “No I don’t remember....you...” He could practically see the gears in your head turning. “Oh...oh my god--Hanma?” He flashed you a dazzling smile, “In the flesh.”

“Oh fuck off.” You tried storming away, there was no way you had just ran into your middle school bully and he thinks he can just smile at you like you had been besties. You weren’t going to even think about it for the rest of the night, you just needed to get home. Hell maybe he changed, but you weren’t gonna sit there and find out. Not willingly at least, because it turns out he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “Woah, hey! Come on let’s just talk real quick doll face--” “Excuse me?” The shrill in your voice blatantly told him you were not having it. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” You stopped to look at him--really look at him and holy shit did he grow up. His hair was long to his shoulders, blonde money pieces nicely framing his face--one that was no longer grinning like a snarky piece of shit that you remembered, but soft--eyes almost pleading with you to just give him a chance for the night. And fucking tall--standing taller than six foot you craned your head to look up. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before answering. “Come on, there’s a bar along the way.”

-

“You’re....so different.” you commented.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You learned he left the gang life behind years ago, and that he was a freelance photographer. You also learned that he made lots of friends from his old gang life that actually stuck, and that one of them recently got married. He told you about his travels, about the time he was in juvie (more than once), about what he did after he left school.

And he told you about how he never quite stopped thinking about you. 

That made you pause your commentary at each remark, unable to take a breath in after the admission. Then you scowled. “You were an asshole Hanma. You know that? You were so fucking mean to me. And you’re saying you thought about me all these years? Ha, thought about what, how funny it was to torment me?” You let your anger flow freely with the help of the beer that was now warmed on the table top. He let you vent, getting out all your frustrations that you were never able to when you were a kid--to scared to know what he would do in retaliation. You thought this was better than therapy (and cheaper too.) When you finished your monologue of how much of a dick he was, you threw back the rest of the beer (gross) and looked at the sticky table. He made no moves to get up, which you were surprised over, instead you peeked up at him through your lashes and saw a man that looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “I’m...wow. Yeah. I was the worst, wasn’t I?” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I didn’t...and listen, this isn’t an excuse, really it’s not, but I didn’t know how to act. You were the cutest girl in school and I just...I was a prick. Life was shitty growing up, and everyone always said ‘if you like a girl pick on her’. I guess it was too much, huh..” Another laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I’d never see you again and now you’re here and I don’t--fuck, I’m sorry pretty girl.” Hanma hung his head in shame, playing with the emptied beer bottle in front of him riddled with anxiety. 

There was too much to unpack in one night. You couldn’t believe half of the things he had even said to you tonight. So you decided to sit with it for a while. You excused yourself quietly, after (attempting and failing) to pay for your drink. “I...I have to go, Hanma.” He sighed, understanding enough anyways--it was a long shot for you to ever forgive  him. But then your phone appeared in his line of sight, opened up to a new contact page with his name already up. His eyes shot up at you, hopeful, and took your phone without a pause to write in his number, he might have also changed his name just a bit, adding a heart at the end of ‘Hanma’ , so dry. You rolled your eyes at that, mumbling ‘don’t push your luck’, but kept it anyways. 

-

For the next few weeks (months?) Hanma had integrated himself heavily into your life. You texted him every day, called just as much, and even met up with him for food or drinks a handful of times as your schedules permit. It was odd, having this bond form with someone you used to despise. But it’s not healthy to hold onto grudges like that. Especially from such a young age, and you knew he was really sorry, especially since he admitted to you night one that he had a crazy crush on you. So you let it go over time, and started seeing Hanma shine with his annoying personality again. And once he came out of his shell, really, he acted almost the same. Snarky, making faces, overly cocky like he couldn’t be beat. But he was softer now, and you found it endearing, especially when he’d come to your rescue. You’d be waiting for him to show up at your usual bar spot and be cornered by a man who was too drunk to look at you properly but was still in your face. “Come on, pretty. What’s your name huh?” You scoffed, leaning away from him as you grabbed your drink and covered the top. “Fuck off, dude. Not here for you.” You’d hear the drunkard grumble something about you being a bitch and before you were able to turn to look at him again and tell him off, you saw a tattooed hand grip his shoulder. “What was that?” Hanma leaned down to get in his face, toothpick in between his teeth as he waited. 

“Fucking--nothing, dude, get off me.” Before you knew it the drunk was knocked on his ass on the floor and Hanma was shrugging it off, telling the bartender “He’s too drunk to be here, can we get him out?” with a shrug and a smirk when he was dragged off by security (as if Hanma wasn’t the one to shove him). You breathed out a giggle and smiled, thanking him for the save--and silently calming yourself down. He looked...good, turning back into his intimidating self when it wasn’t directed towards you. You wouldn’t mind seeing him like this more often, especially to your defense. You shake off the feeling and continue on with your conversation as you always do, though you’re distracted with the way he pushes his hand back, and how his veins in his hands look, and how--

“Hey, you good?” 

You blink, startled and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately for you, Hanma has been getting too comfortable around you now. “What, see something you like?” He cooed, dipping his head lower to meet your eyes, voice now to a whisper. You fidget away, drink long forgotten as you try to remember how to breathe again, furrowing your brows. "I don't think I want to be here anymore." It was his turn to frown. "Hey no I'm sorry, I was joking—" "I'm hungry. Do you...wanna just grab takeout and go to my place?" Silently he nodded, dumbfounded that you had invited him over. It felt like an unspoken rule–he wouldn't ask if he could go over, knowing the answer would be 'no.' You weren't ready for him to invade your space like that. But after all this time, after close to six months of non stop talking and relearning each other it felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to ask. Even if you were a little nervous about it. And so you (he) paid your tab and left.

–

The two of you sat comfortably on the floor of your living room, eating from shared plates and having mindless movies on in the background as conversation continued. "Thanks for letting me over, doll–not gonna lie I was getting tired of always going out to a bar." He teased, laughing when he felt you shove him a little with your shoulder. "Be grateful, Hanma." You rebutted with a smile. 

"Shuji."

....

"What?"

"Come on, we’ve been talking for months now. You can’t just call me Shuji? Not just once?” 

You placed your chopsticks down, that fuzzy feeling coming back into your stomach the same as when you stared at him earlier. Could you call him Shuji? Did you think you were close enough to do that? He was so different than the Hanma you knew all those years ago, but somehow the same–still poking fun but now it felt good, the teasing and the taunting was reciprocated–maybe even building up to something else, that you had refused to unlock. “Come on pretty girl,” the name made your head spin and your face get hot, and him leaning in closer to you didn’t help. Hanma brushed your cheek, thumbing at your skin when he cupped your face, “just once. Just call me Shuji, please.” Your breathing hitched, eyes dropping down to look at his lips, and when you looked back up at him you noticed he’d done the same thing. “...You’re being so stupid, Shuji.” Your voice was barely heard above the sound of the TV. He chuckled, lips brushing against yours, “yeah well, you know what they say–love makes you stupid.” You closed the gap that barely existed to begin with, hands latching on to the front of his shirt as Hanma invaded your senses. 

The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, too much– everything and everywhere all at once. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when Hanma had been such a constant in your life recently, not when he admitted to loving you. You could practically feel the cockiness come flooding back, Hanma smiling into the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, easily slipping his tongue in after you granted him access. He’d taken over quickly, hand on your cheek pressing the back of your head deeper into him and the other trailing around your waist to pull you close. He had you straddling him, and you still were trying to keep up with the kiss. “Sh-Shuji, wait, h-hold on.” You broke free enough to speak if only for a moment, but he continued with the kisses down your jaw, and neck, and nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Fuck, his voice dipped low–the gravely sound was shooting straight down to between your legs. It was hard to breathe, he wasn’t letting up enough for you to tell him, but you needed to, you needed to–

“I’m a virgin.”

Hanma immediately stopped his ministrations, the sound of the TV turning more into white noise than whatever was going on. When he didn’t speak, you felt the need to explain. “I just, I don’t know–don’t fucking laugh, I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” You huffed, embarrassed. “I just...was never interested in hookups. And everyone fucking sucked, so I never...”You trailed off, looking away when Hanma tried to meet your eyes. He cupped your face so sweetly, small smile on his lips as he did so. “Look at me, baby.” His fucking petnames were going to kill you. But you listened anyways. “We can stop, or we can just make out–doesn’t matter to me as long as I have my hands on you.” He snickered and you wanted to smack him. You thought about it too, but you don’t think you’d find anyone better than Hanma.

You loved him, too.

“I don’t want to stop, Shuji.”

He didn’t need anything else after that.

–

“Aah, fuck, Shuji y-you’re being mean again.” You whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Hanma had your legs open around his waist, working his fingers deep into your virgin hole. It’s already been twenty minutes of him slowly working you open, curling two of his fingers in your cunt and pushing up against that squishy part of your walls that had you climbing up to your orgasm–only for it to never come. Hanma kept fucking stopping. He’d feel how your walls started to clench and twitch around his long fingers, and the absolute bastard would only snicker and pull them out, slapping them lightly against your clit. “Aw, sorry baby–Just can’t get enough of how you look.” He teased, devil horns practically growing on his skull. This was the Hanma you remembered from middle school, and it seems his sadistic torture moved from taunting you at school to taunting you in your own bed. But you don’t think you cared too much, not now. Not when you saw the love in his eyes. Slowly, Hanma pushed in a third finger, a hand coming down to push you into the mattress and keeping you still. “Gotta prep you, doll–don’t want it to hurt, right?” And you don’t think it would, you had toys, it wasn’t unknown territory, but you kept your mouth shut anyways when he looked at you like that, eyes devouring you. His pace quickened, pumping his thick fingers in and out, in and out, until he saw your nose scrunch up and your mouth open–whining and crying out as you climbed closer and closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You could feel it, and you spread your legs just a bit more to give him more space, eyes rolling to the back of your head–

And then he pulled out.

“Shuji!” You were so frustrated, tears flowing freely now with how angry you were feeling. You were ready to start telling him off, until he grabbed your jaw and loomed over you with such authority it made your skin crawl. “If you don’t stop me now, baby doll, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.” His aggressive tendencies never really went away it seemed, even after leaving the gang life behind you had such a grip on him it made him crazy. “Tell me no, and we’ll stop.” He waited a beat, squeezing a bit more at your jaw expectantly. You simply stared at him, stars in your eyes as you looked up at the man. 

“Keep going.” 

Throwing caution to the wind, Hanma kept the hand tightly on your jaw as his messy fingers slipped back into your weeping cunt, finger fucking into you harder and faster than before, all three curling up back into that gummy part and not letting up this time. Your mouth hung open with the pressure he kept on you, moans flowing freely out–you babbled, repeating his name until it all just jumbled together in messy cries. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pressure building up so fast was dizzying. Your eyes rolled back, bordering screaming as he fucked into you. He said nothing, just kept staring at your face of pleasure as you finally descended into your orgasm, crashing over you in waves and not stopping. Your juicy pussy was splashing him, fingers slipping over to rub over your clit just as quickly. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, lower body spasming as he kept you at that high. “Too much, too much Shu–too much!” your legs were aching to close, and he let up just enough to let you get away, smacking your pussy twice before. 

Hanma leaned down kissing your throat after letting go of your jaw, whispering against you “First it was not enough, now it’s too much.” He taunted, nipping at your skin before kissing up to your lips again. Even when he was being mean again, he pet your head and wiped away your tears. “You sure you wanna keep goin’ pretty?” You hiccupped, taking the time he’s graciously given you to take a breather, and nodded. He smiled like the devil himself and planted a harsh smooch right on your lips before moving back, lining his cock against your wet folds. “Y’ready, baby doll?” Another nod. He pushed in.

“Ah fuck, Shuji–s’big.” you gasped, arching your back in the pleasure and slight pain you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself–he was big, though you knew you were feeding his ego when you heard a laugh tumble from his lips–deep in his chest. “You’re okay, baby–gonna stretch you out nice on my dick.” He started moving slow, and you swore you could feel each vein as his cock stretched your walls around him. His movement was deliberate, passionate, like he was making sure your pussy would be molded to only take his cock for the rest of your life. Though even if he told you so, you’d openly admit you’d never be able to be with another man after him. As he felt you loosen enough to move freely, he fucked into you faster, leaning over onto his forearms–dropping his forehead to yours, hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “You waited for me, baby? Waited so I could take your virginity, right?” He spoke nonsense and you both knew it. But fuck, he felt so good inside of you, you couldn’t help but let him hear exactly what he wanted. “Waited for you, Shuji–wanted to give it to you.” You were able to barely get your words out before he groaned above you, humping you like a dog in heat. “Fuck, baby doll–pussy’s so fucking tight.” His jaw tightened as he got the words out, angling himself to feel you cum around him again. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, come on, give it to me.” his hips slammed against yours, wicked pace stealing your breath. Silent screams escaped you, gasping and crying when you came around him again, and he relished in the feeling of your abused cunt clenching and twitching around him. “There we go” He breathed out a laugh, kissing your tears as they fell. 

Hanma only let up enough to get his hands on the backs of your thighs and push them up to your chest. He was fully over you now, continuing to pound into your swollen pussy. “Shujiii” You whined, nails clawing at his wrists but unable to move him. At this angle he kept hitting all the right spots and you needed him to slow down. Yet the only word that would spill from your mouth was his name, like a silent prayer or mantra. Your third orgasm of the night came quickly, messier than the first two–your juices splashing on his thighs as he kept fucking into you. Folding in half you had no power to stop him, only able to take the pleasure that was bordering on painful with how quickly he was making you cum with no breaks. “Come on, pretty girl, come on.” Hanma was far gone, pupils blown out with lust–mumbling to himself more than to you, bed creaking underneath you with his strength. 

He maneuvered your thighs to be pressed against your chest with one arm, his now free hand finding your swollen clit and pinching– your screams and moans filling the room as your fourth orgasm felt like a house of bricks being dropped on you. You covered him in your juices, his cock now covered in a frothy white layer that webbed and stuck to the both of you. Even as he let go of your clit, Hanma was still chasing that high–so close to getting off. He wrapped his free hand around your jaw, covering your throat and shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Look at me baby.” He ground out, just to see your fucked out face eyes all teary and glassy. Your mouth was upturned in a slight smile, completely cockdrunk. It was enough to push him over the edge and still deep inside you, shooting his thick load in your abused hole. 

Silence filled the air, and slowly Hanma let go of your face and your legs, pulling out and hissing when he felt his cum dribble out with him. “Fuck..don’t think I’ll ever stop dreaming about that.” He laughed, and laughed harder when your weak hand slapped his shoulder. He dropped his weight next to you, collecting you in his arms with a kiss to your temple. “How you feelin’ baby doll?” He whispered, and you hummed, snuggling deeper into him. “Good. Sore. Always so mean to me.” You teased, feeling yourself off into sleep. He smiled at your temple and let you drift into slumber, at least for now–he’d have to clean you up. 

Until then, he reached over to your phone and finally changed his name in your phone, keeping the heart but replacing his surname with ‘Shuji’.

#milk writes #hanma smut #tokyo revengers hanma #shuji hanma #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #hanma shuji x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma shuji smut #tr hanma #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers shuji #tokrev #tokyorev #tokyo rev #kinktober #milk kinktober

[bellaxisworld]

april 5 @jegulus-microfic prompt: slap. 874 words.

fyi - james is "pushy" in this fic with regulus' boundaries but it is not an issue. if regulus had an actual problem with it, he would tell james. don't take it too seriously <3

cw: swearing.

Barty is playing cards with some random Ravenclaw in the common room when Regulus walks up to him, glancing around skeptically and sulking. He’s always rather tense, Regulus—but he looks like a spiky porcupine as he joins their table, ready to hex anyone who looks at him wrong. 

Regulus stops by Barty’s arm and mutters to him, “I made a mistake.” 

Barty raises an eyebrow at him. “You made a mistake?”

His lips thin out. “I made a mistake.” 

Barty heaves a sigh, nodding. “Where’s the body?”

“No! Merlin, no—I mean. Not yet, but there might be soon.” Regulus folds his arms over his chest, taking another peek around the room. He’s looking for something—or someone. 

“Reggie, you are acting more dramatic than Sirius, right now—”

His head snaps up, eyes dancing dangerously with silver flames. “You cunt, I am not—”

“Point proven, Reg. I think the dramatic gene is in your bloodstream.” 

Regulus huffs and rolls his eyes. “Anyway. We might be murdering James.”

“Potter?”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he hisses. He reminds Barty of an agitated cat, hissing and clawing and angry. 

“Right, so we’re murdering the boy you’ve been in love with for a fucking century? Now we’re murdering him, after you managed to bag his ass?”

“Best friends are supposed to support their friends’ murderous intentions, Bartemius.” 

“I'm very supportive of your murderous intentions, I just have questions. What did the poor guy even do?” Barty even feels a little bad for James. Potter is just as smitten with Regulus as Regulus is with him, which means he is very far gone for him. So in love it almost makes Barty sick, to look at them. It's a beautiful and gross thing. He can’t imagine James would do anything to massively upset Regulus, he’s too pure of heart. 

Regulus grumbles something under his breath.

Barty leans forward. “Hm? What was that?” 

“He slapped my ass,” Regulus says louder, and Barty cackles. 

Regulus smacks his shoulder as he doubles over in delight. “You don’t get it, Barty, he’s slapping my ass everywhere. All the time. He did it once and saw me—saw me, um, get flustered, I guess—shut the fuck up—and now he’s inescapable.” He leans forward to set his forehead on the table, hiding his red cheeks.

Barty giggles beside him. “So—Reg, I’m sorry, please, oh Merlin—you made a mistake?”

He nods, miserably. “I told him to stop. He took it as a challenge. A personal challenge to find me everywhere and publically slap my ass.” 

“I don’t blame him. You have a perfectly slappable ass, Reggie—”

“I’m never coming to you with my problems again.” 

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry, let’s go plan his fucking murder or something—oh, oh—” Barty laughs, startled, and Regulus looks up. 

“Fuck,” he says, standing up straight and booking it, running around the sofa to keep as much distance as possible between him and the entrance to the common room.

James Potter walks in, bright smile lighting up the room. 

Regulus blushes from the mere sight of him, weak in the knees but still tensing up and preparing himself to run. 

James struts over to the couch, perfectly calm. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says to Regulus, voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. 

Regulus glares, steel eyes shooting daggers at his boyfriend. “How did you find me? I’m hiding from you.”

James smirks. “You sure know how to flatter a guy, Reg. But, you know, I have my sources.” He shrugs, nonchalant. Barty thinks that seems suspicious, but he ignores it in favor of planning an escape for Regulus. He can tell both he and James are gearing up for a little fight, a chase. He would even bet they both like the thrill of it, this game they’re playing.  

“Come on, baby, why are you avoiding me?” James asks, leaning over the back of the sofa, eyes soft but glittering in amusement as he looks at Regulus. 

“You know perfectly well why I’m avoiding you,” Regulus whispers venomously. 

James shrugs. “Are you still going to run?”

“Are you going to slap my ass?”

James chuckles. “You have a truly marvelous ass, Regulus—”

“Potter—”

Barty is about to hex James so Regulus can escape when James jumps over the couch and reaches for Regulus. He yelps, attempting to dart away—too slow. 

James catches him by the wrist and whips him around, pulling him close with one hand on his waist, slapping his ass with a resounding smack! Regulus goes red, cheeks pretty and pink as he glares up at James. “You are objectifying me, Potter.” 

James kissed him hard, practically manhandling him with one hand on his waist and one on his ass. 

“I think you like me objectifying you, baby,” James whispers against Regulus’ lips. He melts against James’ chest, an indecent sound ripping from his throat, tugging him forward for more demanding kisses. 

They become rather—obscene, at this point, Barty observes. He chuckles and throws a pillow at them. 

“Get a room, you sluts!” 

Regulus nods fervently. “Room, a room, James, yes, let’s—yeah.” He drags James out of the common room and towards the dungeons, and James’ hand doesn't leave his ass the whole way there.

#they r just playing so many games #its foreplay #jegulus #jegulus microfic #marauders #regulus black #james potter #starchaser #sunseeker #james x regulus #regulus x james #marauders era #the marauders #fanfic #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #bella writes #bellaxis microfic

[ivymarquis]

So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books. 

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not. 

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style. 

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household. 

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her.  Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people. 

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining. 

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished. 

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much. 

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself. 

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off. 

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you. 

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

#my writing #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza #call of duty modern warfare #x chubby reader #femslash #cod mwii

[setsugekka]

❥déjà vu (m)

↳ One year after the fulfillment of a particularly raunchy agreement with your best friends husband, the three of you once again find yourselves together over a bottle of pinot noir, an appetizer, and an unforeseen question laid out on the table:

If you could do it all again, would you?

kim doyoung x fem!reader — friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [21k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, restraints, impact play, slapping, dom-drop+aftercare, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.

In the dimly lit ambiance of the swanky restaurant that you and your present company currently reside, and over the dull, pleasant hum of the chatter of the surround patrons, you suppose you can't help but reminisce, just a little bit.

One year.

Not on the dot, a few weeks give or take since the beginning of one such agreement, but nevertheless a time in your life that you've found yourself recalling perhaps a few more times than you'd care to admit. Admit to yourself, and especially to aforementioned present company.

You bring yourself back from the thought just in time to make eye contact with the man across the table from you — a knowing collection of features gracing his face, of course, he doesn't know the ins and outs of whatever it is that happens to take your attention in the moment, but rather, just that there had been something to stir you away from the present. The ringing laughter of your best friend just next to him finally coming into earshot to let you know that the two had been engaged in some other conversation that you must have tuned out slightly, you watch her snake an arm around his as his preoccupied one continues to top off your glass of red wine.

Thankfully, third-wheeling with the couple has become far more comfortable, though, you suppose you know what the reason for that may be.

Mina, with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and a black sweater on — it must have been the evening for couple outfits, as Doyoung sports just about the same, minus the blonde hair, instead sporting his usual black with seemingly no interest in ever changing his look.

"I'm so annoyed I have to go on this business trip at all," Mina huffs, across the table and next to her husband. "But they did say that I would need to be gone like this occasionally when I took it, so hopefully it can be done and over with as quickly as possible, at least."

"How long was it, again?" You ask, fork gently pressed between your lips to clean it off.

She rolls her eyes as the response begins to leave her. "A month. I don't know what he's going to do without me."

Playful in nature, Mina cozies up with Doyoung next to her as she says it, to which he merely offers a roll of his own eyes before audibly inhaling to response. "Surely I can manage."

"He'll probably just work the whole time, anyways," You add. Your friend nods knowingly. "Aren't you writing a book?"

Lips to his glass, he begins speaking into at the tail end of his sip before placing it back onto the table to carry on with the thought. "It's finished. Loose ends here or there but mostly done. Back to the usual workload, now."

Humming, you carefully shovel another forkful of pasta into your mouth before your vision catches on Mina — a certain gleam in her eye that you know all too well by now to mean that the woman be up to no good, you slow in your motions as you maintain your eyes upon her in wait for what it is that she almost certainly be about to unload on either of you in the middle of this far-too-expensive restaurant.

"Actually," she starts with a jingle to her tone. Eyes now averted from either of you, she still maintains the wicked upturn of the corners of her lips as she hesitates only slightly before finishing the sentence with little more presented to either of you. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about something—"

"Who?"

The word drops from both you and Doyoung simultaneously, and as a result, pulls a resonating chuckle from the woman.

"Well, both of you."

Uh-oh.

Doyoung, once having had his head turned towards his wife, now slowly pulls his vision ahead again, but not without narrow, questioning eyes still remaining to his side as if suspecting her being up to no-good. For good reason, as well, because you maintain the same amount of surveillance on her in wait for what it is that she's about to bestow.

Like a villain sitting in her evil, hands twisting within themselves for all of the devilishness that be about to transpire as a result of her.

"I have an idea."

"Well, that much we can tell, you only get like this when you have one of your ideas," Doyoung can't help but quip back immediately. A man lovingly fed up with all of the nonsense that his wife bring to his life, while no doubt being a large part of the reason that he love her in the first place. "So, what is it, then?"

"No fun, as usual." She sighs before taking a hastened sip from her own glass of wine. Then, her attention turns almost exclusively towards you, as if equally fed up with the way that her husband be behaving in regards to her unknown genius. "Since I'm going to be gone so long, I was thinking — why don't you come stay at the house?"

A shocked, resounding ‘what!?’ coming from both you and the husband in question, once again.

Of course, Mina only laughs at the response from you two with a gentle shake of her head to top it off.

You don't entirely know what to make of the offer, and frankly, you're a little bit too afraid to ask. Instead, you're thankful for Doyoung's bluntness, and perhaps also his familiarity in navigating these particular waters with his wife — because you think you know what she's suggesting, but he most certainly will be the one to ask the question out loud.

"Are you suggesting another arrangement while you're gone?"

"Yeah, why not?" She chimes back as if it be the most normal thing in the world. That it be bizarre for anyone to so much as question it further. "It's a whole month, darling."

"Fairly certain I can keep myself busy enough to not die without having sex for a month."

In ways, this conversation not really involve you currently. Should it play out a specific way, suppose then your input be necessary, but for now: this is between the betrothed.

Mina finally turns in the booth to face him better, but Doyoung insists on maintaining his calculated stature in facing forward and staring out towards the nothingness of the restaurant. He's difficult to read in moments like this; unable to discern if he's upset by the proposition, the potential implications of it, or if he's interested and just unwilling to come of all too eager, and especially in front of you.

After all, the last time sure did end off with a bang, of sorts.

"Are you mad at me?" She asks cutely, as if knowing the answer already. A woman who knows her husbands buttons well, as he turns to give her his full, undivided attention almost the moment that the last syllable drops from her mouth.

"No! I'm not mad, it's just," he pauses, thinking through his word choice carefully as a result of present company, you're sure. "I thought we all agreed that it was a one time thing."

"Then say you're not interested and I'll drop it."

For a split second, Doyoung's eyes catch your own, but he pulls them back and away from you nearly just as swiftly.

You don't think you've ever seen him like this. So...flustered?

Swallowing so hard you watch the lump in his throat bob, Doyoung cocks his head to the side once as if stretching for the marathon of a conversation that his acquiescence to this may just result in. A marathon, indeed, because there would certainly be a whole load more negotiations to take place for a month of who-knows-what-really.

Hesitancy to admit that he's interested in the arrangement. Reluctance to admit it outright without seeming all too eager to re-engage. Tricky waters for the husband in question to navigate, certainly.

Eyes fluttering shut, he sighs. "I'm not against it, just...surprised."

And unfortunately, that means it's your turn now.

Both of their attention now turning to you just as the waiter comes and brings the bill to your table, you feel the heat of embarrassment rush to your face — as if this stranger be privy to the topics ongoing currently — you chuckle nervously as you take the paper in hand, only for Doyoung to just as swiftly tear it away from you before you have so much as a second to consider paying it yourself.

"Well?" Mina questions, chin resting inside of her palm as an elbow settles against the waxed wood of the table top.

For whatever reason, you choose not to acknowledge the man any further as you think through your answer. Assuming him far too busy calculating incredibly simple math especially for someone with a career in finance, all you are capable of is simply thinking him all too enamored in that to be paying any interest or mind to what your response to this question could be. So, with eyes glued to the table in front of you, you muster up all of the courage that you can, while simultaneously biting back the bubbling excitement that you're not too proud of having, before finally giving your best friend your full attention and giving the answer that you think be the one that everyone at the table be looking forward to hearing from you.

"Yeah. I'm down."

Three weeks later, you bring your belongings for your extended stay over to the house that you find already to be comfortable.

There's a certain air about it: a place that you've already spent countless days and nights at, but knowing the circumstances under which you're back inside of their humble abode offering a new set of eyes that you have long since abandoned since a year or so back. Kitchen countertops and upstairs walls that serve as reminders of all sorts of goings on between you and the man of the house — perhaps things you may find yourself revisiting as well as new, unexplored areas with him — there's an excitement within you that now takes the place of any uncertainty or reluctance the first time around.

Because you know Doyoung, and you trust him completely.

Dragging a large suitcase inside, as well as an over-the-shoulder bag and a laptop bag for work, you carefully set your belongings down on the white, marble flooring of the home as you listen for the nearing sounds of footsteps hurrying down the upstairs hallway and towards you. Mina tips over the railing with a bright, cheerful smile — somehow the happiest of the three of you about the way that things are going to carry out for the next thirty days.

"You're here! Doie! She's here!"

Of course, you don't hear from the man, and instead your friend rushes herself down the stairs and into your arms with a wide, tight hug.

"I'm also hungry, I hope there's food in this house," You playfully respond, but before Mina has the chance, Doyoung retorts plainly from the same railing that Mina had been lovingly doting on you only minutes before.

"Suppose I'm expected to keep you fed then, as well."

"Yes, dear," Mina dryly answers with a huff over her shoulder. "Feed and fuck her, that's the agreement."

It being so simply discussed out in the open perhaps something you may never grow completely comfortable with, and with eyes glancing upwards to gauge the mans response as a result of his wife’s words, Doyoung's eyes only roll before sauntering down the stairway just the same as the woman had.

"Are you going to make dinner tonight?" Mina questions as he arrives just behind her. Hands in pockets, he shrugs rather nonchalantly, as if it make no difference to him either way. "I could."

He meets eyes with you, a single eyebrow raising. "Should I?"

"Uh, yeah," you hesitate in response, arms still wrapped around his wife as the conversation carries on. "That'd be really nice."

"I'll go prep then while the two of you say your goodbyes."

And before exiting the scene, Doyoung leans forward and around to kiss Mina — her still very much attached from you, it results in a very full, somewhat-intimate moment that you're all too included in. Unsure if they simply not be aware of your proximity or just as much not care, you swallow and glance away until they're finished — Doyoung's eyes once again catching onto your own before he pulls away from the blonde woman and disappears inside of the kitchen just down the hall.

Shortly there after, Mina separates herself from you, as well. Bags already packed and set aside by the door, you ask her if she need any help in bringing her things out to while she protests, and simply tells you to go and enjoy your stay...

...as well as 'all of the things that the stay has to offer.'

You're not sure if you should feel guilty for the amount of anticipation you've been holding back ever since the initial conversation, but you can't help but wishing for the woman to hurry herself out of the residence, even just a little bit.

You love her, of course, and if her being there instead were an option you would happily choose that ahead of your own interests.

But it's not an option, and frankly, you want to fuck her husband again. No real need to beat around the bush about it, this time.

Two hours after the wife’s departure, the scent of dinner brewing emanates throughout the lower level of the residency that you're now expected to call 'home' for the next month. Surrounded by familiar, white walls and granite countertops, the tall man within be laid with the multitasking of dinner-making while you carry out the finishing touches of table setting. One hand carefully cupped around the tip of the last candle, you hold the lighter against the wick for the fire to catch, and pulling away, you glance over the handy work that you've done in the meantime as you wait for the food to finish cooking. With a heavy sigh coming from Doyoung, you glance over only to find him missing momentarily — popping up from his presumed kneeling position in front of the small, compact wine cooler with a bottle of white in hand.

"Are you going to get changed?"

His expression is somewhat deadpan, which you suppose is to be a bit expected of him, but the question definitely coming from out of left field given your lack of knowledge of even being expected to wear something other than what it is that you had arrived in.

Was this...a date?

Stammering slightly, you do some quick, on your feet thinking about anything that you may have easily accessible in one of your bags that not require a whole lot of putting together in the last minute. "Yeah, give me a second."

Nearly jogging out of the dining room, you hear the man loudly and in your direction. "Make it quick, dinner's in ten."

Pulling a loose, casual dress from your bag and quickly bringing yourself upstairs and into the guest bedroom that you're now to call your own, you can't help but divert your attention down the hall to the shared bedroom of the wedded couple, with one, main rule bestowed upon you by Mina days before your arrival. Her only request of the two of you and your adventures together while she be gone:

Never in their shared room.

No interest in breaking such a rule, instead, you think it charming as you disrobe quickly to change into something more fitting for the evening together. That even in all of the things the couple be willing to share in their marriage, some things still remain off limits, and only for them.

As you re-enter the kitchen area, you catch Doyoung as he pull his apron off from around his neck. Long, thin finger deftly working at the tie around his small waist in a way that reminds you of precisely the way that the mans body look: broad shoulders cinching so snugly at the middle — accentuated by the way fitted trousers and belt hug him and pull at the loose fabric of his button down shirt — he catches you looking well before you find enough awareness to bring your eyes away, and a flush of heat settles at just the tips of your ears as a result of being found out in such a way.

He says nothing, however, instead carrying on with the task of setting the discarded item onto the back of a chair and nodding towards the glass dinner table. "It's ready."

Walking steadily behind him, you realize that the close proximity of the both of you in such a way having long since reignited a sort of burning passion within you for the man — with eyes cascading over his shoulders and back as he bring himself forward, you feel the first, all too evident throb of arousal between your legs that you know, for a fact, you can't possibly place blame on anything else.

When the original agreement had come to a close, you accepted as much happily. A good, positive, growing experience for you in so many ways, but more than that, you were satisfied. Not just sexually, but with your relationships, your life, and your choices. Within the closure came a certain kind of acceptance of yourself in ways that you had never had the opportunity to find before, and now with the re-opening of it, what you really hope to find is more of that.

More acceptance, more trust.

In ways the nature of such agreement never truly able to be just about sex. You can't speak for him, but for you, so much more to be learned and experienced.

Reaching the clear end of the table, majority of the things residing atop it placed further down to accommodate the fact that only two people be sitting there this evening, Doyoung stops so abruptly in his tracks that you nearly collide straight into him — hands coming up to steady yourself and set space between the two of your bodies, it turns into a bit of a whirlwind, however, when you feel the familiar grip of fingers coming around one of your wrists and pulling you forward and in front of the man.

You don't get much more time between then and the few seconds following: expertly placed up and on top of the glass with your legs pried apart to make room for the man between them.

The first kiss comes equally hard and fast, as well.

Nipping into your bottom lip, you don't need much help navigating these particular waters as your hands already make quick work of his belt, followed shortly thereafter by the button and zipper of his black trousers — with such little time passed and a palm pressed against the front of his pants, you find only the beginnings of an erection forming, enough to have you groaning into his mouth with promise of what's to come all of the same, however.

A master of his craft, Doyoung having already pressed the majority of the length of your dress up your hips upon hoisting you onto the table, he dips a single finger down the front of your panties and between your folds, as if to test the waters already. From your position, it's easy to feel the ease in which he glides against you due to the slickness already presented to him — your reward thus far? An absolutely wicked groan of his own through teeth that bite down just a little bit harder into your lip.

"God, how long have you wanted this?" He says with a low tone, words delivered directly into your open mouth as you gasp for air at the feeling of him rubbing gentle circles into your clit just the way he knows you like it. "You're so wet already. You still think about it, huh?"

Less interested in playing games and more willing to be a far more active participant this time around — leaving behind the shyness and apprehension that came along with the completely uncharted waters of the first time — you tilt your head back just slightly and grin, taking in the feeling of him all over again.

"Yeah, I do," you answer with airy confidence. "Don't you?"

"Fuck yes I do."

Words coming through in nearly a growl, Doyoung drags his mouth down along your jaw to suck into the skin all of the way down your neck before settling into the juncture of your shoulder. Pointed sucks and nips into the skin there as if a man truly starved for your touch, you feel him pull you forward and tilt you back just slightly — adjusting the angle of your body so that the fingers teasing you can slip down further — middle finger gliding so easily inside of you, he gives you three pumps of it before adding a second to see how much you need to be prepped for him.

The answer is very little.

Barely any resistance brought to him as he fucks you open with his fingers, you lean back with one palm against the glass behind you to remain stable as the other fishes out his length from behind the confines of the fabric holding it. Long and beautiful, just like you remembered, you run the palm of your hand up the underside of his shaft before delicately wrapping fingers around him and offering him a few lazy strokes; for no other reason than to hear the way his breath hitches just beneath your ear as his mouth carries on its journey back up that way.

As the man carefully creates enough space between your bodies to hook fingers into the sides of your undergarment and pull it down your legs, as he quickly presses his own pants down his thighs just enough to not be a deterrent, you can't help but notice the palpable urgency that this instance carries: a man known for his intensity and ability to maintain stoicism even in the face of erotic desire, this time you find him nearly unrecognizable from any of the times before. No roles between you, no power dynamics at play.

Just two people and raw, sexual desire.

Forearms hooked up and under your legs for leverage, you reach down to him to angle and ease him inside of you with one, smooth drive of his hips — sinking into you with heavy, contented sighs dropping from the both of your mouths at the feeling of each other. Rocking into you shallowly two, three times, it's only then that Doyoung reach his hand up to grasp the side of your neck as if to hold you there, in place, and with all eyes on him, as well.

Pulling the leg still in his grasp up and tightly against the side of his body, he offers you a quick, hard, snap of his hips that finally has you feeling exactly how it is that you want him to make you feel.

Crying out, he settles his forehead against your own, looking you dead in the eyes as he offers another hard drive of his cock into you. The angle is just right for him to graze your g-spot with intense pressure, and already, you feel your thighs quaking around him at the sudden onset of it.

He starts slow, but is quick to find his pace against you, all the while holding you firm in his gasp for just the right amount of leverage that every forceful thrust into you be received with the utmost impact.

You had forgotten how easily he's able to have to falling apart under, and around him.

Electric intensity coursing through every nerve ending, toes curling as your moans quickly dissolve into pathetic whimpers, you feel the prickling of wetness threatening your tear ducts as you bite hard into your bottom lip in an attempt to bring yourself back, even just a little bit.

It's the first time, and relatively vanilla, at that. This man can not have you withering like this already, it's humiliating.

With his jaw tight and teeth gritted as he stairs down towards you, you whine out as the hand around your neck snakes up just ever so slightly and into the hair at the back of your head — fist clenching tight within the strands, and it's only then that Doyoung break his gaze with you and trail hot, dry lips down to the shell of your ear.

"Thought I forgot what you like?" He asks with a drop of venom to his tone. "Don't want to ruin you just yet, we still have dinner to eat."

There's that nasty mouth you had grown to love a year ago.

With impending orgasm on the horizon that no doubt that man inside of you can feel, he trades in shorter, quicker drives into you for fuller, longer ones — offering you the feeling of the entirety of his cock with every snap of his hips, and it's really then that you realize that Doyoung have your likes a little bit too under his thumb for your liking.

But only as far as ego goes. Physically, you already find yourself lamenting the day in which this must once again come to an end.

Walls clenching down around him, Doyoung hisses into your ear as you bite back the full, long moan of an orgasm that's soon to shake you, and dipping down only long enough to nip and suck into the skin below your ear, he brings his mouth back up to it right as you're on the verge of your release.

"How about you make me come, so that I can lick it out of you for dessert."

And that will certainly do the trick.

Yelling out so loudly that you're happy to know that the two of you home alone and on a plot of land large enough that neighbors not be a concern, your orgasm rips through you, so desperate to grip onto something that one hand come up to curl fingers into Doyoung's forearm as he hold you by the hair in place for him to fuck into. Bringing his head up to look at you, as if the unsure about the motion and having to check in on the goings on visually — happy with the scene as your eyes roll back into harshly knitted eyebrows, you hear him groan from the chest — full-bodied and throaty as he comes as well with only a handful more drives into you before burying his cock entirely to empty his load inside of you.

The familiar twitch of him as he comes — mouth delicately hung ajar and looking down at the place where he disappears inside of you — a simple man who enjoy all of the carnal pleasures that sex offer him as much as any other. Prim, proper, put together on the outside but when given the chance, a man willing to say and do the the nastiest, filthiest things to and for a partner...for the both of your enjoyment.

The wetter, the messier — the better it is, for you and him, alike.

And as the two of you sit together for dinner only moments after, discussing the trials and tribulations of adult, workload life — with his cum dripping from your cunt and soaking into your panties, you know one thing is for sure, and that is that whatever is left of it inside of you by the time you two are finished here, he most certainly will be making good on his promise of dessert.

Waking up in the morning feels strange, even under the circumstances of a fake-dating agreement.

On one hand, it makes sense: preferring to sleep in the comfort of ones own bed, but as you lie awake, staring at the while ceiling above and listening to the hum of the dehumidifier that stand tucked away in the furthest corner of the room, you can't help but feel something. Some way about it.

However, it is early into the scenario — only day two, so perhaps it best to allow these feelings of uncertainty lie dormant for just a little while longer — given time to manifest into something if they ever are to, before bringing it to the attention of the man of the house.

Would it be a strange request? All things considered and through all of the other goings on, could something as quaint as the request to be slept next to be one unspoken hard limit for the husband in question?

A single, hard blink has you putting the thought out of your mind in exchange for rolling over to face the window as the delicate blanketing of morning rays wash over your frame. Snagging your phone from off of the nightstand, you check the time only to be be shocked by how early it is — only a bit past six — you come to realize that it explain the sound of rustling from downstairs that you originally thought to be nothing but the typical sounds of a house in the night.

For a moment, you contemplate attempting to go back to sleep, rolling onto your back once again and sprawling across as much of the expanse of the much-too-large furniture as you can possibly manage. Instead, it's the sound of the espresso machine ringing loudly through the residence that has you reconsidering your options.

Footsteps climbing the stairs, you can't help but listen in on the way that the man moves about when not in the company of you or others. Sounding as if he is, however, you hear him on the phone to someone or another — displeased at best, as well, given the strength to his voice despite being unable to make out the words. Shuffling around his office briefly only to disappear back down to the lower level, you decide then that you much too curious about Doyoung in a way that you hadn't quite expected: him as a person, him as an employee, him detached from sexuality almost entirely.

Feet into slippers and a light robe over your shoulders, you quietly tip-toe your way down to the kitchen where it seem that the majority of the early morning happenings be taking place — as you make your way closer, the distinct scent of coffee brewing and and continued sounds of an irritated man, none too thrilled about the conversation taking place, but it's only when you reach the nearest entryway and your presence demands his attention, that you feel as though you may have been walking into more than you had thought to be signing up for.

Black hair styled and slicked back with a gray suit adorning him — it would appear normal, given his occupation, if not for one, glaring, difference to the typical business attire.

No shirt worn underneath the jacket, instead, you find yourself faced with the expanse of smooth skin that you're already well acquainted with, sure.

But not like this?

Your being there appears to fluster him slightly as he turns his back towards you quickly and cusses under his breath despite still being on the phone. Informing the person on the other line that he'll call them back, you watch with a sort of innocent enjoyment as Doyoung pulls the jacket closed before turning to face you again.

"What are you doing awake?" He all but stutters out, a good attempt at maintaining his vocal balance through his embarrassment, you have to give it to him.

With a single eyebrow perked upwards, you offer him nothing more than a gentle grin at first, slipping through the doorway finally and pulling a mug down from one of the higher cupboards to pour yourself a cup of coffee. "I don't sleep so well in new places, it'll take a couple of days to get used to a new bed."

You can't be sure if ignoring the elephant in the room be what he desire right then and there, or if instead it only lending to more awkwardness — so, you make a judgment call then and there as you turn to seat yourself at the kitchen island and hopping into one of the tall stools that reside there.

"So—"

"Don't." He immediately interjects with screwed shut eyes and a palm up towards you.

A small giggle escapes your mouth at his insistence, but beyond that, you choose to let it lie as you quietly scroll through your phone. Doyoung, however, not as easily placated — shuffling around nervously in place, and if you didn't know any better, you might think him to be irritated at your lack of insistence further.

"It's not what it looks like."

Glancing up towards him, you blink once. "I assure you that I have no idea what it looks like."

It's the truth, because after all: what the fuck?

Rolling his eyes and accepting defeat, the man grabs his mug from behind him and seats himself across the way from you with phone in hand as if waiting for a call that he intend on answering the absolute second that it begins coming through.

"So, you know I wrote a book."

You nod.

"Publisher wants me to do some promotional photos for it, now I get word last minute that the photographer isn't coming and they're having a hard time finding someone who can make it all of the way out here in time."

"Is there a reason that they want you to be dressed like a Chippendales dancer for a book about business and finances?"

Groaning and tossing his head back so abruptly you think he might send the entirety of himself barreling backwards and out of his chair, when he comes back upwards, he looks approximately as pained about the whole ordeal as you might expect him to.

"Something about selling more books."

A questioning hum into the rim of your mug, you would be lying if you said that you didn't enjoy having a bit of the high ground over the man for once. Tables turned briefly as he sits across from you nearly nervously sweating the wax out of his perfectly styled hair — when the call begins to come through finally, Doyoung jumps up and out of his chair to answer it — hurried and excited at first, only to find himself sounding just as annoyed and despondent as you had heard him earlier on.

Guess it's not going well.

Turning to you once again as he ends the call and setting his phone onto the granite countertop with a heavy sigh, he tilts his head backwards with eyes closed as if in silent prayer for some sort of answer to this conundrum from some sort of higher power above.

Luckily for him, the answer only need fifteen more minutes to wake up and another cup of coffee, first.

"Did Mina ever tell you I got pretty into photography a few months back?"

"I'm sure she mentioned it."

Slow on the pick-up.

"I brought my stuff with me because you guys live in sort of a good area for landscape photography," you continue on, and thankfully by now the mans eyes start to pick up and raise towards you as you speak. "I don't really do people but it doesn't seem like you're in much of a position to be all that picky."

Quietly taking another sip from your cup, you sit by and wait for the reluctant acceptance: because he's a man out of other options, and you don't really have anything better to be doing this early in the morning, either.

"Fine." Doyoung sighs, tipping his own drink all of the way back to finish it off as if downing a shot of liquor to prepare him for the morning going forward. "Just make sure I look pretty, would you?"

"Of course, darling."

Snapping a few test shots, you pull your camera down from your eye and take a look through the display to check the turn out — given, it's a bit of a rough shoot with no lighting equipment and not much else to help you along your way, but you figure with what you're getting here currently that someone far more talented than yourself be capable of fixing anything decent you get in post.

Looking upwards again and towards your subject: laid out on the white flooring of an otherwise unfurnished room that the happy couple haven't had the time to get around to just yet, Doyoung keeps his attention turned well away from you as you cycle through the photos to determine any better way that you can make this work.

You think, perhaps, that he's still a bit bashful of the circumstances.

Leaning back against his elbows and forearms, you watch him glance towards the ceiling just briefly before finally looking at you.

"Well?"

It's a little bit funny how little he wishes to be doing this right now. Karma, perhaps, for years of subtle torment.

"They look good enough," you admit with a slight nod, sounding almost surprised at the fact. "I think we can get a few good shots pretty quick and have you back in your office writing boring reports, or whatever it is that you do, in no time."

"I'd much rather be doing that." He huffs, turning his attention away again. The movement gives you an excellent shot of the angle of his jaw, however — thus, you bring your camera back up to take a few more pictures before gracing him with a reply.

"I've never met a man so dismayed by being attractive."

"You think I'm attractive?"

You bring the camera down again, a slightly annoyed but playful cock of your head to the side that silently says 'really?', because frankly, it's a stupid question. This is a fact that Doyoung knows, as evidenced by the smirk that takes his lips as a result of your reaction to it.

"It's not the 'being attractive' that's bothersome," he continues on with the thought, offering you an honest response now. "Just don't really need or particularly enjoy this kind of attention on myself. It feels bizarre, especially as someone in my line of work."

It makes sense, and snapping a few more shots, you opt out of a verbal reply and only hum of acknowledgement, instead.

"I'll be happy to have it over with, and now I know, no more books."

Without pulling up from the camera, you carry on with your direction. "Look towards me."

Head turning slowly and eyes settling deeply into your own even through the lens, Doyoung settles into his new pose — a smoldering look to him that really would have you thinking that something like this be his chosen line of profession after all, but shaking it off, you press a few more clicks of the button and check in the view finder once again for how the photos are turning out thus far.

Doyoung's gaze, however, remaining firm on you as you do.

Jacket open again and chest fully on display, you make a good effort of attempting to ignore the flesh before you. Of course, it's far from the first time that you've seen him — and really, you've seen him in far less clothing and far more intimate scenarios, but something about this, you find, doing a little bit extra for your visceral attraction to the man.

Even worse, it's about seven in the morning. Who tries to fuck their best friends husband at seven in the morning?

You do? Maybe?

Mind wandering to the thought of whether or not it's something that is also on his mind, you figure it not too far from the realm of possibility: after all, the relationship between the both of you be almost strictly a sexual one, what else is there for either of you to be fantasizing about whilst in each others company like this?

"Is it good?"

The wording is a little strange, and that's because you know it to be a question with a hidden agenda behind it. A question he often asks you while buried deep within your body, as your eyes fall to his and your camera falls away from your face just a bit, you can quite easily see the sinister curl of one corner of his lips. Knowing, playful, a man with an agenda, indeed.

"Yeah," you answer cooly, not willing to allow him the satisfaction of knowing about your growing arousal. "They look good."

It's then that one of Doyoung's hands slowly glides up and to the front of his trousers — watching on as he expertly unbuttons and unzips them all the while maintaining perfect eye contact with you — there's a part of you deep down that is pleased with the non-verbal communication between the two of you and how far that it has come, even with so much time between the last time and now.

There's also a part of you that's willing to beg to have him in your mouth right now, but you'd rather not make that one so obvious just yet.

"Why don't you come get your reward then?"

Well, so much for the 'not making it that obvious' plan.

Slowly and gently setting the camera down on the only, lone dresser in the entire room, you just as carefully shrug off the robe you had been wearing — long, loose sleeves tending to be a bit of a detriment for these sorts of activities, best to be nimble and able to do whatever it is that you need to do.

The fact that you don't know what that is yet quite possibly the most enticing part of it.

Spending more time with the man in casual settings, you find it charming as well as that much more sexy to see the way he so easily slips into that dominant role. Not that long ago flustered and shy about you catching him in the kitchen in the same open suit coat that he adorn now.

Closing the distance between you and carefully settling down onto your knees between his legs, you watch as his hand slip down and beneath the fabric that still offer coverage from your sights — palming his growing erection just under, and worse than that — still maintaining that devilish eye contact with you like nothing capable of pulling his vision from yours.

"What do you want?" He asks with a sultry groan to him.

And still maintaining that initial desire to not completely give in to his whims, you instead decide on a bit of turnaround. Biting your lip, you look him straight in the eye to deliver your reply. "What do you want?"

It does give him a bit of pause perhaps — a single eyebrow perking up at the slight bit of defiance you dangle before him, but rather than deter him, he leans into it in full.

And you had not calculated the risk of being told precisely what it is that he wants from you accurately, either.

"I want you to spit on my cock, and then I want to watch you gag on it until I come."

It's a total knockout of a response, just like that. Throat running dry and heart thumping hard in your chest at the promise of exactly that, Doyoung's eyes remain on you as he offers you nothing more than a small shrug at your inability to properly digest the information.

"You asked," He adds with a much too sly smirk.

Hand shifting to be removed from his pants, Doyoung runs his thumb over the tip of his length to gather the bit of precum that's since gathered there, and upon its exit, he whispers a simple "come here" as he extends it towards you and presses the digit between your all too accommodating lips to suck him clean. Wet and wrapping around it, you run your tongue around him and offer a gentle suction before the man hooks into the corner of your mouth with a deeply wanting groan.

"Get what you want, then."

Taking his hand back from your face, you waste little more time before hooking your own fingers into the sides of his trousers and giving them a tug — hips lifting off of the flooring for just a moment to allow for the shift — you bring the fabric down just enough to be out of the way, watching as his cock springs free and the tip of it lie against his exposed abdomen. Perching over Doyoung's hips, you take him into one hand, a few languid strokes to feel just how hard he already is before dipping your head down and taking him into your mouth with the swirl of your tongue.

Breath hitching in his throat at the feeling of you, it's one of your favorite things about sucking him off — always just a little bit on the verge of falling apart beneath you entirely as you do so.

Pulling off of him for a moment, you glance back up the length of his body to make eye contact with him once again before allowing the lewd display of saliva to fall from your puckered lips and messily onto his shaft in hand. Then, it's back to business, taking him deeper and fuller into your mouth with light suction and long, slow bobs of your head around him.

"Yeah, just like that, baby," Doyoung whispers out, head falling back to take in the feeling just briefly before bringing his gaze back up to watch the way you work him — not wanting to miss a moment of the show. "Love my cock, don't you? Can't get enough?"

Moaning around him in affirmation, the words cause you to stroke him just that much faster — enjoying the way he sounds when you have him like this.

"Think you can take it all this time?" He asks, voice slightly broken already. "Bet you practiced while we were apart, didn't you? Sucking other cock just in hopes that you can take mine that much better if you were to get the chance."

Throbbing between your legs far from dull at this point with a man never relenting in the dirty talk, you once again groan around him as you also feel yourself falling apart despite being wholly untouched thus far. You can't see him, but you feel the shift of his weight to free one of his arms for movement, followed by the familiar feeling of his fingers collecting loose strands of hair as he intertwine them into the collection of it at the back of your head.

Leverage.

There's truth to his words, though. Not so much about sucking off ever Tom, Dick and Harry in town just to practice for the inevitable resurrection of your sexual relationship with Doyoung specifically, but you had seen other men since then, and you had sucked some of their dicks.

You're a little proud of the progress made, sure.

Bringing yourself up enough that only the tip of him remain between your lips, you take a deep breath in preparation for what's to come — the gentle, careful press of his hand down against the back of your head to force more of his cock into your mouth...slowly, inch-by-inch and with no rush to have you take the entirety of him in one go, when he reaches the back of your throat you focus on steadying and relaxing yourself for him. Hissing through his teeth at the feeling of burying himself so deeply within your mouth and throat, as he ventures further, you feel the welling of tears in your eyes at the light discomfort of it.

It's not bad, and far from enough to not want to keep going — rather, the excitement of having so much of him far outweighing those things, anyway.

Slipping into your throat delicately, Doyoung instead opts for short, shallow thrusts into you for the rest of the way, and once he feels your nose against his pubic bone, he can't help the breathy moan that escapes from his lips.

It's heavenly, hearing him so desperate beneath you.

Pulling you back up and off of him slowly, the two of you look at one another — you with teary, wet eyes and swollen, red lips — you think that the darkness in his eyes deepens just that much more at the sight of you destroyed on his cock before him.

"Think you can take it again?"

"Yeah."

"Such a good girl. Go ahead then, swallow me down."

Repeating the previous motions, before your nose settles against his skin, Doyoung instead opts for slow drives of himself into your mouth — gently throat fucking you with dizzying, incoherent sounds melting from his lips as you take just about all of him inside of you like this. It takes very little time before you hear and feel the familiar notions of him reaching his peak, a few harder, deeper drives of his cock up and into your mouth through his attempt to maintain his composure that have you gagging around him ever so slightly, and just as promised.

"Fuck, you take it so well now," he all but whines, eyes screwed shut and eyebrows knitted tightly together as he shallowly bucks his hips up into your mouth to chase his release. "Wanted to earn my cum, didn't you?"

You can't grace him with an answer, and he knows it well enough — the dirty talking is for you, really, knowing the way that every word pools between your legs — an unrelenting throb there now and unknowing if you'll be offered the same release that the man under you be about to experience.

In a way, you almost don't even care if you cum.

Suddenly, Doyoung pulls your head up and off of him completely to instead replace it with his hand — quickly stroking himself to completion only to empty his load on the expanse of exposed skin along his abs and sternum with a hot, heavy, whiny vocalization.

Catching your breath for only a second, in one, fluid motion you dip your head down to lick the white-translucent fluid off of his body as his chest heaves just above where you work.

Turning your head to grant you the ability to look up at him, the two of you make eye contact once again as your tongue dips out to collect his cum. Head falling back, he lets out an exasperated moan at the sheer sight of your desire for him.

"Ride my face," he suddenly demands, hands reaching down for your arms and already pulling you up and towards him. "Now. Come on my face."

A dizzying request from him and not one you had factored into the potential possibilities, you don't bother inquiring further as you struggle to your feet and discard your garments as quickly as possible before wobbling over to him and kneeling above his face with creeping uncertainty.

Doyoung wastes no time, however, digging fingers into the flesh of your behind and pulling your soaking cunt flush against his mouth — digging his tongue firmly into your clit and offering you the much needed relief you had been hoping for. Whimpering in his grasp, he goes at you hard and fast straight from the get go in a way that has you reeling with the threat of an orgasm that you knew wouldn't be all that far off from the horizon, anyway.

"Doyoung, fuck—"

Moaning against you, the vibration tickling your sensitive nub just that much more as he quickly circles over it with far more than just expertise, you find yourself thankful for the close proximity of the wall just behind him as you fall forward slightly and find leverage against it. "Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come—"

You sound somewhat surprised by the fact, large in part because you are. Not that you anywhere near able to follow the flow of time, rather, you know that it certainly hasn't been long since having made your way up here, and already Doyoung is having you tumbling over into orgasm.

In the last moments before you cum; grinding down hard against the mans mouth as he groan up into you and fingers digging into you flesh to hold you in place — you look down ever so briefly to find his eyes — narrow, lustful, and with a job to fulfill right before you come with an embarrassingly high pitched shriek, thighs quaking around his head as you bite the tail end of your yell back and indulge in the feeling of him sucking any coherent thought that you could ever possibly have in that moment straight out of you through your pussy.

And as you wind down from the exhaustion of your early morning escapades, you shakily crawl off of him, clumsily falling to the floor next to him and heaving in the afterglow of ecstasy. The two of you enjoy the silence for just a moment before Doyoung turns his head lazily to allow his eyes to fall upon your weary form.

"Breakfast?"

Huffing out an exhausted laugh, you can't help but smile at the nonchalance of it all as you grant him a nod. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Cool," he says, bringing himself up and to his feet to shrug off the suit jacket entirely and leaving it bunched up on the floor next to you. "You suck my dick like that again and I'll cook you a six course meal every day until Mina gets home."

"Good to know."

With your nose buried in your laptop and comfortably sat in the lavish living room with no company other than yourself, you tab away at your keyboard to answer work emails and respond to other such employment related inquiries. Approximately a week into your stay at the current residence, you find yourself quite easily settled in by now: the two of you working on your own for the majority of the day, occasionally meeting in the kitchen or the hallway as either you or Doyoung come to and from your standard whereabouts, and, if given the free time at a whim — a quickie where ever either of you wish to have the other.

The entire circumstances fundamentally erotic — your entire being there at all deeply erotic in a sense — but with a week down and more rounds under your belt than days spent there already, you can't help but find that the simplicity of domesticity already setting in, in a way.

When Mina had suggested a sort of 'fake-dating' scenario, you hadn't anticipated it being so on the nose.

Because it truly does feel as though you and Doyoung are dating: engaged in a relationship beyond just the sexual, despite being intensely sexually charged and the entire surroundings of it being build off of that. You eat together, you chat together, you shower together occasionally — for all intents and purposes, you are, as Mina had suggested, dating; in some way, shape, or form.

It's not boring, but a sense of excitement and luster has already worn off in a way that you can't help but acknowledge. Of course, you still desire the man viscerally just as you always had the very moment you began your physical relationship with him...but the fact of the matter is just that: it's different now.

Upon sending out your last email at just before four in the afternoon, you shut your laptop in tune to the sound of Doyoung treading down the upstairs hallway and making his way down the stairs. Glancing up towards him, the two of you make eye contact, giving him pause for just a second before he continues his way down to the floor level of the home.

"What do you say about ordering in tonight, I don't feel like cooking again."

Dramatically throwing yourself back along the length of the couch, you swing your arm up and across your face like a damsel in distress at the mere thought of not being personally catered to. "What ever will I do? What's the point of even being here?"

He rolls his eyes at your overacting. "I'm going to order a pizza. I'll order two so that there are leftovers for tomorrow, then I can really punish you if I have to."

"Kinky," you quip back playfully as you bring yourself back up to a sitting position on the black leather. "Then what?"

Bringing his hands to settle on his hips, Doyoung simply stares at you with his head cocked to the side.

"If you think I'm going to be your tough, hard dominant boy-toy your whole stay then sorry to disappoint, but I'm only one man, I need some rest too, you know."

Of course, the banter is part of the fun of it. Something that the two of you have always engaged in, but as of late with the comfort of living together established, a new level of it unlocked. Easier and more fluid. Where once upon a time there be perhaps more truthful venom behind comments or words, instead now rest an adoring familiarity between the new faux-couple.

"Endlessly disappointing, aren't you?" You sigh in response, unable to fully hide your grin.

"So I've been told," he's quick to admit. "But if you're good tonight then there is something you might be pleased to discuss over dinner."

An intriguing promise of what's to come, and entirely unknowing of what it is that he be referring to, you find your curiosity to most definitely be piqued. Eyebrow quirking upward at the sly comment, you're mindful of the mischievous glimmer in his eye that you know to only present itself when the man have something very particular, and particularly raunchy, at that, in mind.

As the both of you settle into the smaller living room area just next to the dining room — fireplace lightly crackling in the not too far off distance and a cheap bottle of white wine opened and set on the tiny coffee table, as the television in front of you sounds off to fill the room with sitcom chatter and laughter, you glance over to the man just next to you: sitting with legs crossed in front of him and his plate balanced onto his lap as he bite into a slice of cheap, cheese pizza. It's a sight that you come to realize in the moment that you're unfamiliar with, all things considered: a particularly raw and true level of domesticity where Doyoung exist as just some guy, in the best way possible. You realize in this moment as well, that it's times like this that are likely cause for Mina's falling in love with him. A good man, after all — and more than that, seemingly perfectly well-rounded in all ways, as well.

Even so, as the flicker of illumination dances across sharp, pretty features — round, framed glasses perched upon his nose and rather unkempt hair in the front from a hand running through it numerous times that day — the conversation mentioned earlier weighs the heaviest on your mind with promise of, well, you don't quite know yet; but you sure would like to find out.

"So," you chime, semi-awkwardly on purpose and for effect. It's enough to garner his attention already, a man not all that wrapped up in the show carrying on before him to begin with. "About that talk."

"Right," he quickly responds with a single nod, setting the food down onto the plate in front of him and bending forward to set it onto the table between the both of you. "About that. I was curious how much of this...arrangement you were looking to explore in our time together."

The inquiry brings pause, finding the wording of it slightly difficult to navigate, because what does he mean by that?

You suppose your hesitancy is telling, however — Doyoung chuckling lightly under his breath before rephrasing the question more clearly.

"I mean...the first time we started sleeping together you were interested in exploring a rather dominant and submissive power play scenario. I'm wondering if you're wanting to explore that further."

'Further,' you think, being the operative word, and yes, yes you do.

Reaching forward for your glass of wine, you take a sip before answering him confidently. "Yeah, I've thought about it. I had done some exploring this past year but—"

Hesitating to think through your words carefully, Doyoung interjects with the thought you had been leaning towards anyway, and in a way, it proves your point just that much more.

"—Haven't established that level of trust with anyone?"

"Yeah, that."

He nods, finally spinning himself in place on the couch to fully face towards you. In a way he appears particularly earnest, as if even now still vying for that level of trust necessary to engage in the even harder, darker sides of BDSM as implied.

"Then," he says a bit more seriously than you would have ever really expected. "Tell me what you want."

You suppose that as far as situations that require a more serious touch, this be at the top of his list.

It's not something that you've spent all that much time thinking about, however. No list of 'things to try' on hand or a bullet pointed note on your laptop of all of the ways in which you wish for him to have you. Rather, they be fleeting, passing moments that you find yourself fantasizing about in private, discarded just as quickly as they find themselves making way into your mind.

But you do know that they still lie embedded in there somewhere, you just have to dig them back up.

As well as relay them to him in plain, simple words. It's not only an admittance of desire, but one of confession: 'this is all of the ways I've wanted you even since then.'

You swallow down the bubbling humiliation though, knowing that if not capable of bestowing upon him precisely what it is that you want of him that he be in no position to grant it to you.

He needs to know everything, because he has to have a plan.

"Restraints," you begin, inhaling deeply after the word leaves your mouth. "Orgasm control, impact play...basically all of the same but turned up a notch."

Doyoung nods, reaching towards his own glass of wine and sipping from the rim. Then, after thinking through your words, he offers another nod of understanding.

"Okay, then here are my rules: first, the same safe wording system will remain in place, we both know it and are familiar with using it so I think that's best. Second, no renegotiation mid-scene, it makes it difficult for me to be able to have an understanding of where you are and also gives me cause to have less trust in your word—"

Pausing again and with his head tilted down towards his lap, he glances up through his eyelashes at you for explicit eye contact in that moment.

"—And if I'm going to hit you, I need to be able to trust your word of when it's just enough, or too much."

"Yeah, of course."

"Cool," he finally sighs, dropping the tough and serious exterior to once again fall back into the Just A Guy role he had previously been enjoying. Doyoung slumps to the side and against the back of the couch with a contented grin as he finishes up his thought. "Tomorrow evening, then? Doesn't have to be then—"

"No!" You nearly shout, already thrilled with the thought of all that's soon to come to you. "No, tomorrow is good, perfect."

Standing to his feet, the man reaches down to take both of your plates into hand with intention of heading towards the kitchen. "I'm going to head to bed then. Long day, tomorrow will be longer now — try to get some good rest tonight."

Needing no verbal response, you sit back comfortably against the large cushions of the couch as he begin to head towards his exit — it's then, that a sudden thought comes to mind in an instant, and before your window for negotiation truly closes, you have to put it out there, now or never.

"Oh! Doie? One more thing about the scene tomorrow?"

He hums in acknowledgment of your words, merely glancing back and over his shoulder at you in wait for what it is that you wish to add.

"When you hit me...leave your wedding band on."

Snorting through his nose with a chuckle, the man playfully shakes his head at the thought and the implications behind it — just as quick on the uptake of one of the joys of kink exploration within the confines of this arrangement.

No one is cheating on anyone, doesn't mean we can't pretend, though.

"Kinky minx," He responds coyly, dumping the dishes into the sink and disappearing into the darkness of the otherwise unlit household.

"Shall we?"

Doyoung's voice is calm and pleasant when he asks the question. There's a hint of knowing within it, a playful nuance in regards to what's to come from here on out that already has anticipation pooling between your legs in a relatively unexpected way. You were excited for tonight, of course, but a physical response as a result of him merely alluding to it not exactly something you had foreseen in your future.

You recall Mina telling you how good of a dom he is a year ago.

The evenings festivities call for a one drink maximum: a rule implemented by the man himself to ensure that the parties involved be well aware of themselves and within the grips of their own feelings and boundaries enough to ensure safe play. One drink offering plenty to take the buzz of nervousness edge off, after all.

Dinner is light. Enough to keep the both of you fed and fulfilled without weighing either of you down, especially when you can't be sure when or if you're to be gagged — and beyond that, on what, you'd rather not take the risk of throwing up all over him — at least, minimize it as much as possible.

None of this is all that new to you, though. You've played before, partaken in kink and gone to parties before. Engaged in such things with people who are not Doyoung in between then and now — but as you quietly follow him downstairs and into the basement below, you find yourself so much calmer with him that with any of your previous play partners before.

It's not a matter of poor vetting and even poorer partner choices: you've had fun, it's been safe, and everyone has left satisfied. However, there just be something special about your play partner now — a level of trust and understanding between the two of you that takes an edge of uncertainty from the back of your mind and discards it entirely.

You don't have to worry about him, not even a little bit. As a result, you don't have to worry about you, either.

"I can't believe you two have a dungeon, how cliche," You sarcastically quip as your foot lands onto the floor at the end of the stairs. 

Doyoung glances at you briefly from over his shoulder and shoots you a roll of his eyes. "It's not a dungeon, we just wanted to keep the upstairs bedrooms available for guests. We had no other plans for the basement, so—"

"—So, you turned it into a dungeon," You finish for him.

Walking over to a small, unceremonious table, Doyoung pulls out a tube of hand lotion from one of the old, brown drawers and squeezes a small dab of it into palm. "If calling it that gets you off, then by all means."

As the man settle in and begin preparing for the activities, you take it upon yourself to glance around and take in the sights. Truly, it's nothing like the fancy, mommy-porn movies: no huge rigs or handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. Rather, it's sort of just a regular room — obviously re-done since moving in to serve this purpose specifically, you take notice of the king sized bed off at the furthest end of the rather small underneath of the home — satin, royal blue sheets and a single pair of restraints hanging from one of the golden bedposts there.

"Have you ever played submissive?"

It's a question that's rattled around your brain for a while now, suppose now is as good a time as ever to sate the curiosity. Doyoung comes up from behind you so quietly that it nearly startles you with another pair of wrist binds in his grips, and as you glance back and the two of you make eye contact, he reaches out for your hand — slowly fastening one of them to your wrist before answering the question.

"If you must know, yes," He says, tightening the restraint against your skin just firm enough for a good hold, and without causing pain. "One of those...'you gotta try it once' sort of situations."

"How did that go?" You ask further as he spins you in place to face him, fastening the other half of the tan leather to you. Doyoung offers you a sly grin first, slowly stepping you backwards on your heels and towards the bed, before gently tipping you and causing you to fall flat on your back to the mattress below.

"Didn't take."

While restraints, you find, aren't typically your thing, it's a situation in which you feel comfortable with him. You question momentarily if there be any other person in the world that you would be willing to be in this current scenario with: bound and laid out against the sheets of someone's basement bed, and the answer is a quite easy and resounding 'no.'

"Recite back the safe word system," He demands, tone dropping in a way that you know this be the beginnings of the scene at hand. You watch him as he rolls up the sleeve of his white, button down shirt — more or less still dressed up from the work day just before — sort of the archetype of the CEO dominant man that while typically you don't find yourself creaming yourself for...this time, it's sort of working for you.

"Green is good to keep going, yellow to slow down and lighten up, red is full stop to the scene. If unable to speak: two taps to someone's body is effectively a yellow sign, and three is a red sign."

"Good girl," he chimes, squatting down to the edge of the bed between your legs and hooking fingers into the sweatpants you're wearing. "Scene renegotiation?"

"Only to lessen, never to strengthen."

Pulling the fabric down your legs, panties and all, you feel the rush of cool air against your flesh in a particularly stark way — your body temperature seemingly already flaring up at just the mere discussion of the rules from here on out, you find this to also be an unexpected turn out of tonight's engagements.

"Sit up," He then requests; a near impossible task for you alone given your bind. He knows this, naturally, and reaches for the center of your restraints to pull you upwards and seated just as he desires.

Cold fingers just grazing the flesh of your torso as he grabs at the hem of your shirt and brings it up over your head, it's electric — felt through what you think could be every nerve of your body with barely any physical touch at all.

A worrying trend for your resolve tonight.

With you fully disrobed, Doyoung pushes you to lie back again, dipping down into his previous position and hooking his arms under your legs to pull your bottom to the edge of the bed. It's exciting already: the anticipation of what's to come and what he will do with you — relinquishing all power and ability to be an engaging participant in your activities in a way not yet engaged in since your time arriving in the home.

It's then that he dips a single finger between your folds — the touch is delicate, barely offering you any sort of stimulation at all, and as a result, you're already keening and attempting to melt yourself into his touch. This, of course, gives him great pleasure at the sight of you already so needy and wanting for him — evidenced on his face as he looks up at you from between your legs and gives your clit the lightest feathering of a swirl with the tip of the digit present there.

"In a rush?" He asks teasingly, still circling the collection of nerves between your thighs.

A dizzying offering of almost nothing to your body despite knowing how you crave his touch.

"What do you want?" Doyoung questions as if speaking to no one in particular, finger dipping down towards your opening and shallowing pressing inward as if intending to penetrate you. "I take it you want me to fuck you open with my hand?"

With a small whimper dropping from your mouth, he hums inquisitively. "Feel my tongue on you? Taste you like you have the last cunt on earth?"

"Yes," You finally whine in reply, but the response from you garners nothing from the man in question.

Instead, and in a rather surprising turn of events, Doyoung gives you just that: carefully slipping a single finger into you, slowly fucking into you with ease as a result of the ample arousal already having pooled there. It's shallow, slow, and far from enough to get you anywhere you're wanting so desperately to go, but better than nothing — a moment later, you feel the heated waves of breath across your labia as he brings his mouth mere centimeters from your mound.

Nearly instinctually you attempt to grind yourself down and against his hand and face, but it results in little given your lack of mobility. A light chuckle offered from him as a result of your wanting, you feel him press his lips lightly against your lower ones, but only to speak.

"You think I'm going to let you come?" He questions, offering one, long, stripe of his tongue through your slit finally and giving you the warm, wet, contact that you've been silently begging for. "You still want it even though you know I won't, that's how desperate you are for me, isn't it?"

Whining out a breathy affirmation of the fact, he serves you another press of his tongue against you for what you can only figure is 'good behavior.'

"I can always make you come so quick like this, can't I? Like your pussy was made for me—" He carries on the thought, pausing long enough to drag his tongue over you languidly and pulling from you the most desperate whines each and every time. "Body made for me, isn't it? Your mouth, your throat, your cunt, your ass...all mine for the taking, aren't they?"

The moan that tears from your throat at the words is nothing sort of humiliating.

"Answer."

"Yes, they are," You force yourself to reply through a breathy, broken voice.

"I know, you're so good for me. What a perfect little toy for me to come inside and toss aside until next time, aren't you?"

You don't have a chance to respond before his mouth is attached to you, tongue digging firmly into your clit and the sound of him sucking into you resonating through the otherwise empty basement. Eyes screwing shut, you only have a second of self-awareness to realize that he really might be able to make you come in record time at this rate. Curling his fingers up into you and running his tongue across you in just the way that he knows gets you there, you whine out loudly — back coming up and off the bed as he seemingly tries to get you there already.

"Fuck, fuck—" you breathe out as your body finds itself on the precipice of orgasm, but as a man all too good at what he does; expert hands and mouth bringing you just to the brink before pulling back from you entirely and watching your body tremble at the feeling of the loss. "—Doyoung please, please please."

"And what have you done to earn it, hm?" He asks, leaning forward and over your body to take your bound hands into his grasp and sit you upright at the edge of the bed before him. Still shaking lightly from the feeling of a ruined orgasm, hair strewn about your face and eyes glazed over from the need — Doyoung looks down at you with a gentle cock of his head as if charmed by the sight of you already so fucked out with so little having taken place yet.

Hands reaching down for his belt and subsequently releasing his erection from the confines of his black trousers, you're forced to watch him lightly palm himself just in front of your face.

How familiar a sight it is.

"You know how to earn it, don't you baby?"

You nod, although it's not enough for the man before you. "Answer."

"Yes, I can earn it."

"Good girl," he says, angling the tip of his length down and to your lips, only lightly dragging across before gently tapping you with it as a signal to open your mouth for him. "Though, suppose this is a bit of a reward in and of itself, isn't it? You love my cock, isn't that right?"

With only the tip of him presented between your lips, you're able to still speak around him. A simple "I do, please let me earn it" falling from you before you're able to even register the words and the meaning behind them.

It never gets old the way this man can have you falling apart with ease.

Hand dipping to the back of your head, Doyoung pulls you forward and sheathes as much of himself inside of the warmth of your mouth as he comfortably can at first — just like the last time, there's no aim for discomfort or pushing any particular limits this time — rather, he understands yours and your abilities well enough by now to know precisely the best way to go about having you, and equally as much, allowing you to have him.

Lips firmly wrapped around him, with each pulling back of your head, you look up at him to meet eyes — narrow, dark ones staring down at you to watch the way his cock disappears inside of your body.

"Fuck, that's it baby," he whispers out as he begins to gently drive himself into your face. "Such a pretty face, just made for me to fuck."

But for as much as Doyoung knows you and your body, the same can be said for you and his — you know this sort of engagement to be his weakness, and for all of the chiding he does at your inability to hold out on him, the very same can be said for him in these situations.

Bringing his hand forward and from the back of your head, he instead grasps your jaw, prying it open forcefully so. "Open, swallow it down. Take it all."

Giving you little time to adjust, you feel him press his hips forward and as a result, begin the drive of his cock down into your throat. Gagging around him, he pulls off quickly. "Color?"

"Green."

And with that, he serves you another, direct press of his length down into your throat. Easier this time, but the sound of your heaved breaths and gurgling around him as your nose meets his flesh going straight to that place deep within him that you can tell makes him want to come at a moments notice. As a result, he pulls back and from your mouth entirely — giving you a moment to catch your breath before grabbing at your chin once again and forcing your mouth open for him.

"My little cockslut has gotten so good at that. You sound so pretty when you're gagging around my dick."

Leaning forward, he allows a small dropping of saliva to fall from his mouth and into yours before once again pressing his length between your lips and shallowly fucking your mouth with a few, quick, thrusts.

"You want my come?" He asks firmly, stepping away only enough for the tip of him to rest against your mouth.

"Yes."

And then it comes: one light, open-palmed snap of his wrist against the side of your jaw.

"I don't believe you, make me believe it."

"Yes! Yes, please come in my mouth, please let me taste you, Doie."

Tightly gripping your jaw again, he holds you in place to rub the mess of saliva and precum thoroughly around your face — so wet that it's nearly dripping from you — Doyoung smiles down at you at the sound of the pet name leaving your mouth.

Because that's when he knows you're really fucked up for him.

Another, slightly harder tap of the inside of his fingers to your jaw — it doesn't hurt and it's far from jarring in any way, but the implications of it within the scene driving you absolutely wild in the moment, you're happy you asked for this in particular.

The glimmer of his wedding ring still present on his hand, all the while.

"So nice of my wife to offer me such a compliant play-thing to use as I wish while she's gone," he says, finally dropping his pants to the floor entirely and beginning the unbuttoning of his shirt as if to soon discard it entirely. "Suppose now I get to decide which hole I want to take, don't I?"

You nod, and as a result, Doyoung lands the hardest connection of his hand to your face that he's given you thus far. This time, enough to actually cause your head to move a bit, as well as the slightest sting to the skin.

"How many times do I have to instruct you to answer? Are you already so fuck-dumb that you can't remember one, single rule?"

"No! I know it, I'm sorry!" You quickly amend with a shake of your head. "You can have anything you want from me."

"I know," he plainly responds, as if already grown tired of the discussion at hand. Simultaneously, Doyoung pushes you to the side and back against the bed, only this time pulling you up by the hips and displaying you bent over and lewdly spread open for him at the edge of the bed. "I'll take what I want, that is your purpose here, after all, isn't it?"

"It is," You quickly answer this time as to avoid punishment.

Feeling the tip of his cock pressed against your opening, you hear the man chuckle from behind you at the sight before him. "Your messy little cunt is practically dripping. Begging to be filled with me. Pathetic."

The words garner a whimper, and pathetic is correct as you feel him drag the length of his cock up and down your folds in a simulation of fucking you. Slow, concentrated drives against you, but not into you, that have you keening and attempting to push back and onto him in a way that is far beyond humiliating — a new low for you, even given your previous encounters. You don't think you've ever needed to feel him this badly, and worse than that, you know that he knows it, too.

You're thankful when he readjusts his position, feeling the tip of him pressed at your opening again followed by the smooth, easy glide of his full length into you. A dizzying feeling of being so full of him after what feels like an eternity of being denied him in so many ways, Doyoung sinks into you from behind and sits flush against your ass for only a moment before leaning forward and harshly gripping his fingers into your hair.

Followed with a hard, rough, snaps of his hips into you that has you nearly toppling forward at the momentum of it.

"You thought I was going to fuck you for you?" He breaths out, venom lacing his tone as he delivers another, harsh, thrust into you. "You're nothing but a hole for me to fuck, and come in."

Pressing your face into the mattress, the man then focus entirely on his own pleasure: chasing his release as he fucks you hard, quick, and selfishly. No concern for the proximity of your orgasm as a result of him.

The irony being, of course, that after so much lead up to this moment, you're just about there, anyway.

Stopping briefly and much to your display, Doyoung comes around to the side of you to release you of your restraints, but as he settles in behind you and sinks into you all over again, you feel him lean forward to retrieve both of your wrists and twisting them behind you — new, better leverage for him to use your body with like this.

"God, your cunt feels fucking heavenly," he groans through rough drives into you and over the sound of your pathetic, fucked-out babbling just below. "Useless bitch not good for anything but taking my cock, guess you're good for something, after all."

"Fuck, Doie—" you whine out at the culmination of words and the feeling of him relentlessly pounding you.

"Yeah? Is the little whore gonna come anyway? Even when I just try to use your body to dump my load in, it still gets you off, that's how much you love it, huh?"

He's right. This one might keep you up at night in the future.

"Yes—" you whimper breathlessly, dangling on the edge of your now inevitable release. "Yes, yes, yes, please I'm gonna come—"

"Fine," he hums, similarly close to his own peak. "Come then, want to feel you milk me when I fuck my load into your messy little pussy."

And so you do. Your orgasm ripping through your body hard and quick — shrieking loudly against the mattress as Doyoung continues to pound you through it — shaking and clawing at nothing attainable as it tears through every inch of your body. You're barely aware enough to hear him groan out from behind you as his own takes him: cock deeply buried into your walls as he unloads inside of you — cock so hard and deep that you feel the pulse and twitch with every rope of cum that he delivers to your insides.

Slowly, carefully pulling from you, listening for the way his breaths are heavy and worn from the scene having just played out to perfection, as you fall to your side to lie flat against the bed to catch your own you feel the gentle, careful dip of the mattress from just beside you as he settles in just the same.

Silence blanketing between the two of you, you inhale to speak — only to be cut off by words of his own in an entirely unsurprising and frankly, shocking way.

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

The snap question comes out before you have a second to even really mull over what it is that he could be apologizing for, because frankly, everything went on without a hitch. It was everything you had wanted and maybe even more, and now he's apologizing for it?

Arm slinging up and over his face as if to hide himself from you in a way, Doyoung sighs. "You know I don't mean that stuff right? About this being the only reason you're here? I feel kinda..."

"You're dropping right now," you interject suddenly, reaching over to take his hand into your to offer him some seemingly much needed soft, physical comfort. "What do you say we head up to that big tub you guys have in the upstairs bathroom and take a nice, cozy bath?"

With a delicate squeeze of your hand, you take it as an accepting of terms — not even bothering to dress before escaping the basement and wobbling yourselves up to the next scene on the agenda: aftercare.

"When did you know you wanted to marry Mina?"

Sat up against one end of the tub with Doyoung's back to you, you run soapy fingers through messy, black strands — nails gently grazing the flesh beneath in such a soothing way that you all but feel the man melting into you presence, he hums at the question before sighing to answer it.

"Quite early in our dating, actually," The man replies confidently, head tilting back so that you can lather him up better. "Maybe three, four months in I felt like she was going to be the woman I spent the rest of my life with. Of course, we were kids so we dated for a long time before taking the step, but I knew."

A charming side of him that you typically find yourself unfamiliar with — listening to him muse about the love of his life, your best friend, and the ease in which he does so even in the most intimate company of yourself.

"Cute," you whisper from just behind him, wetting your hands again before setting them back within his tresses. "Who knew you were such a soft romantic?"

"Hey! I have many sides to myself!"

Happy with your cleansing, you take the shower nozzle into hand and instruct him to dip his head back towards you even more to gently rinse the suds from him, and once rid of them entirely, you delicately press his head back upwards to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

Planting a kiss to an exposed shoulder blade, your lips linger there as if to speak directly into his skin. "Have you ever dropped like that before?"

Doyoung chuckles at the question, as if slightly humiliated by the answer as he nods his head in affirmation of it. "Yeah, Mina could tell you plenty a story about coddling me after a particularly rough dom drop."

But rather than shameful, you find it adding a new level of humanity to the man that only allows for you to appreciate him and the role that he take on just that much more.

"You did well," you offer him in solace with a squeeze of your arms that encompass him. "It was amazing. I couldn't imagine playing like that with — well, anyone who isn't you, I suppose."

Reaching to find your hand, he takes it into his and presses the back of it to his lips for a small peck.

"Good, I'm glad. I had fun, too."

After drying off and heading back down to the kitchen for a late night, before bed snack, as the both of you head into your separate directions for sleep, it crosses your mind to ask him to spend it with you.

You find in the next two weeks that the majority of the time is spent much like the first: working from the home and occasionally meeting with your live-in partner for silly activities when the time should meet and the interest strike: the occasional blowjob in the kitchen, or being eaten out against the upstairs railing of the hallway — and if time really permits, bent over the back of the couch where you typically work from. Suppose it can be chalked up to the excitement of a sort of honeymoon phase shared between the two of you, after all, this just be yet another arrangement with an end date, and if the effort is to show, then you both have every intention of getting your proverbial moneys worth.

In the midst of a particularly slow work week for you, and a much heftier one for Doyoung, you find him out and about much less — earlier so offering you the handling of his credit card to order food to the house as you see fit on account of him having little to no free time to do any of his usual cooking — you accept it with a bit of a dropped heart. Sure, there's joy in having free reign of a rather full bank account not belonging to yourself, but more than that; the enjoyment of spending time with him now cut incredibly short and on a whim.

Your relationship together has shifted. It's not necessarily just sex (although that still be a large portion of it), but rather, the two of you melding together in a way that you figure neither of you had really seen coming. Enjoying the company of each other in non-sexual settings — in fact, you come to realize that dinner be one of your favorite times of the day as you wind down from working hours and instead just chat about normal, everyday things. Goings on in the world, work, maybe even some gossip about friends — a bizarre realization, and so far into your time spent here now: you and Doyoung are friends.

Sure, friends that viscerally enjoy the body of the other, but still just friends aside from that.

Waking late one night on account of what in particular — you can't be so sure — you grab your phone from next to you to read the time: a quarter past three in the morning. Having grown accustomed to the bed in which you currently lie, you settle your head back into the pillow to once again meander off to dream land; that is, before you hear the familiar clattering of keyboard typing from down the hall.

It's not that you can't sleep through it, you most definitely can — the sound not carrying far or loud enough to disturb you all that much — rather, it's the thought that Doyoung be up still, this late at night, and to work, at that.

Kim Doyoung is many things. Workaholic high on the list, certainly.

Slipping your robe on over your shoulders like so many times before, you once again carry yourself down the hall quietly — as if meant not to awaken anyone despite being the only two people in the home — as you reach the doorway where his study reside, you listen in for the sound of the keyboard again before entering and disturbing him in full.

But instead, you're met with silence.

You know what you've heard, though, and turning into the door, you suppose you can't be all that surprised by the sight that greets you: a man slumped back in his chair, head tilted back and against the headrest, utterly unconscious as the bright, blue light of the monitor before him illuminates his handsome features.

At the very least you're happy to find him comfortably dressed for late night engagements like this — gray sweatpants and a matching gray pullover sweater with the name of the widely regarded college that he had attended years back — you take it upon yourself to step towards him and with a gentle hand pressed to his shoulder, you slowly shake him back to his senses.

"Doyoung," you whisper, an attempt to pull him back into a conscious state with as little startling as possible. "Doie, wake up."

Thankful for the ease in which he comes to, picking himself back up to sit straight and rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, Doyoung blinks hard towards the screen before glancing up and towards you. "What are you doing up?"

"I could ask the same of you," You quip back, hands into your hips like a disappointed mother figure. "Let's get you to bed, Mister."

"Mom—" he drawls, playing along with the scene, but saving his work and shutting the machine down all of the same as he stands to his feet. "I don't wanna."

You sling an arm around his waist as his finds your shoulders — realistically the man have no problem walking, of course — but you find the scene charming all of the same. As you turn to your left in an attempt to take him to his bedroom, he fights the movement, instead pushing towards the right and down the hall towards your own bedroom.

"Lemmie put you back to bed, first," Doyoung insists, still motioning that way with his body weight against you. "It's the least I can do for you saving me from the grips of Excel spreadsheets."

A bit of a charmer.

Relenting, the two of you make your way down the darkened path and back into your bedroom. He lags behind you next to your bed, nimble fingers reaching into the neckline of your robe to help remove it from your body as you once again lie yourself in bed and cozy up within the sheets — still warm from your presence just earlier in the night.

Doyoung kneels down next to you, arms crossed against the edge and chin pressed into them as he gazes up at you.

"You're the most boring man I know," you start with a breathy chuckle. "Staying up late to do spreadsheets."

"Yes, I know," He willingly admits with a pleasant cock of his head. "Do you want me carnally?"

Reaching over your own body to playfully slap his arm, you opt out of answering the asinine question. Largely due to your awareness of it being rhetorical, but also in part to the both of you knowing that yeah, obviously you do. Embarrassing.

"Get some sleep." He finally says with finality to his tone, standing to his feet with intent to leave.

You figure, now is as good a time as any.

"Actually—" you start, the word coming out a bit more meekly than you had hoped when thinking it through in your head. You suppose it's the possibility of rejection that has to reeling with this sort of lack of confidence that is relatively unfamiliar to you. Still, you push forward with the inquiry; a disservice to yourself not to. "Would you sleep with me? Like, spend the night with me?"

The question gives him pause, and as a result, has you second guessing yourself, too.

"You don't have to, I mean, I don't know if you're not allowed or just don't want to, it's just—"

"—I'm allowed to sleep with you," he interjects suddenly to cut off your anxious word-vomiting, a small smile pulling at his lips as he continues the thought. "The only rule is we can't do anything in the shared bedroom, but yeah, I can spend the night with you."

"Oh," you whisper, perhaps the largest part of you not having anticipated this response after all. "Okay."

"Is that what you want?"

"Yeah, kind of." You answer with a tiny nod.

Instead of engaging in the conversation about it any further, Doyoung takes it as an opportunity to accept your terms and disrobe for the evening: you watch him intently, taking in all of the ways that his body move as he pull the shirt up and over his head to toss it aside — toned chest that you've seen so many times before now only visible through the slivers of illumination granted by the moon through your blinds — it feels intimate in a different way this time: like normal lovers. People not involved in an 'arrangement,' people who are simply dating and might even have sex with each other because often times, that's what people who are dating and attracted to each other do. Falling asleep in one another's arms in the afterglow of it, or maybe just falling asleep in one another's arms as the grand finale of the evening together.

His pants go next, and before you have much of a chance to think further on it, you feel the man slip into your bed and under your covers as you scoot across the mattress to the other side to accommodate for his figure.

"I picked out this mattress," he proudly chimes. "Good, right?"

"No wonder I sleep so well here, thing probably costs an arm and a leg."

"Yeah, it kind of did." Doyoung chuckles, turning to his side to face you.

Silence blanketing the room, with such little light shone in you find it difficult to keep track of where he is, or what he's doing whilst beneath the sheets with you. A gentle rustling of the fabric, you can't tell what he's doing until fingertips feather across the skin of your face to brush stray strands of hair from you.

He must have better night vision than you, and with even more of a shift of his body, you're met with the feeling of warm, minty breath on your face as he dips further into you for a kiss.

You meet him eagerly, maybe even too much so with teeth lightly sinking into his bottom lip and eliciting an ever so slight groan from him at the feeling. He's happy to meet your advances, however, mirroring the motion before parting lips and pressing his tongue into yours.

Barely creating space between you, he instead opts to speak directly into your waiting mouth. "This why you asked me here? Doesn't seem like you're trying to sleep."

You had been originally, but plans do change.

Rather than offering him a verbal reply, you slip a hand down and between your bodies to wrap fingers around his length — already attentive to the stimulation in part — and pumping him gently, you revel in the way his sighs into your mouth; choked and broken groans caught in a dry throat at the feeling of you palming him so deliciously like this.

You're thankful for your night vision finally coming to you, and allowing you to take in the sight of half-lidded, wanting eyes staring back at you.

"It's late," Doyoung whispers first, a lazy reasoning as to why you shouldn't be wanting to partake in such lewd activities currently. But rather than engaging in the banter with him, you bypass it entirely with the one thing that you know will make the man putty in your hands.

Firm, long strokes of his cock in your hand, you once again bite into his lip with a breathy moan against him. "Doie—" you all but whimper into his mouth. "—please."

You get little time between the moment the word drops from your lips and when you find yourself pressed back against the mattress with him hovering over you. A grin of victory splashing across your features as you feel him tug your panties down your legs and toss them aside without much of a care, just as quickly coming back up to bring his mouth to your own with a bit more hungry intent behind it than before.

Reaching down between both of your bodies to position himself to enter you, Doyoung drags fervent, hot kisses down your jaw and to your ear that bring the temperature of your body up just that much more. A once dull throb between your legs now impossible to ignore and full of want as he rub his cock up and down your slit to spread your wetness around before attempting to penetrate you.

"You drive me crazy."

As his hips press forward and his cock begin to sink into you — with a lack of foreplay you find a particularly pleasurable burn that come along with the resistance he's met with upon entering a body not quite made to be ready to take him. Jaw hung ajar at the feeling of him prying you open slowly with shallow, timely thrusts, you exhale heavily against his face as he once again meets you eye to eye.

Seated flush between your legs, he pauses for a moment to kiss you deeply — rocking into you with little withdrawal in a way that has his pubic bone continually bumping against your clit — you whine into his mouth as he drinks it down between dips of his tongue into you.

Cock nearly fully buried inside of you at all times like this, you feel impossibly full of him as he grinds against the apex of your thighs. One hand brought down and gripping firming into your waist as if to hold you perfectly in place to take him, he feels suffocating in a whole new way that you find you've never quite experienced before: in the absence of immense dirty talk and power play — sex with Doyoung be just as intense and enveloping, all the same. A man all too in tune to the needs of your body and mind.

"Feel good?" He finally whispers against your face. You think him to be well aware of the answer already, though.

"Feel so good, so good," you whimper in an airy, stifled tone. "You feel so big."

"And you take it all perfectly."

The words send your brain buzzing, the coiling of release beginning in your abdomen as a result of the relentless pace he has set against your clit — thinking of how far, how deep his cock is buried within you a dizzying thought as he continues to rock against you with just the right rhythm that can have you sent over the edge in no time.

"I want to feel you come around me, baby. Can you do that?" Doyoung asks in a whisper against your cheek as he trails pecks of his lips across your hot skin.

Teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you try to bite back the sounds that threaten to rip from your throat as your orgasm looms on the precipice.

Nails digging into the flesh of your waist as he attempts to drag you down harder against him for more friction, it's just enough while his lips and teeth simultaneously suck into the skin of your neck to decorate you with pretty marks to send you barreling over the edge. Doyoung feels it more than anything as a hedonistic groan drops unexpectedly from his mouth at the feeling of your walls gripping down on his cock still buried well within you as you come.

A chanting whisper against the heated skin of your neck, "Fuck, that's it, just like that."

Riding you out properly through your orgasm, it's only then that the man release his grip on you: opting now for long, fluid drives of his cock into you to bring him to his own end. It doesn't take long after the feeling of you all but milking him for everything that he's worth only moments before — once again burying deep inside of you with the twitch of his length to release warm, wet, ropes of cum deep inside of your now dripping heat.

Head coming back up from your neck to gaze into your fucked-out eyes, his vision dances over your features for just a moment — taking in the sight of you before once again greeting you with a deep, adoring kiss.

Wincing from the stimulation of having just come as he drags his softening cock from you, Doyoung flops to the side of you with a heavy exhale — a hand mischievously finding itself between your legs once again to play with the mixture of cum and other such wetness left behind in the aftermath of your unplanned rendezvous.

"So," he sighs out as the tip of his middle finger drags up and against your all too sensitive clit. "Those spreadsheets, huh?"

How cruel the world is — the most exquisite cock being attached to the most insufferable man you could ever know.

As the last day at the residence finally comes around, you spend the days just prior expecting it to be bittersweet, in ways. Naturally, you're thankful for Mina's return as well as yourself reentering a life of normalcy compared to the rollercoaster of a getaway as you've spent the last few weeks — rather, you're none bitter and all sweet for all of those aforementioned reasons.

Of course, your relationship with Doyoung has reasonably shifted. A man that once only served as a mark of unappreciated and relatively unwelcomed contention, now having morphed into one of your most trusted and perhaps even in ways, adored, people in your life.

You contribute it mostly to the little things. The ins and outs of living an everyday life alongside the man — allowing to view him in a new way, and maybe even the way that Mina does — that casts him in a brand new light. Hardworking, thoughtful, and above all else: trustworthy.

Putting your care and well-being: emotionally, mentally, physically — in his hands, and not only coming out on the other end just as well as you had gone into it, but in ways, even better.

But don't tell him that, it'll go to his head.

On the last evening and after that aforementioned six course meal that you had never actually expected to come to fruition, as you find yourself comfortably seated on the loveseat in front of the television and just next to the warmth of a crackling fireplace, you gaze over the back of the cushioning: watching the man with rolled up long sleeves as he pop a last bottle of some expensive wine he got from who-knows-where as a sort of parting gift only shared between the two of you.

Two glasses in hand, Doyoung hands you one and you share a light tapping of rims before taking your first sips as he sits down next to you.

"Excited to get back home?"

Mulling over the question momentarily, you hum into the edge of the glass before taking another, small sip and setting it onto the table just in front of you.

"Yeah, I feel like I've been on vacation too long being here, it feels weird."

Chuckling, he matches your action before leaning his head against the couch to look at you. "You've been working this entire time, hardly a vacation."

"That's true."

"Imagine my surprise finding out that you do have a job that isn't simply being friends with my wife!"

Tossing your head back as if in utter disbelief that he really be bringing this joke back, you whine out your response to him. "Are you really going to do this again?"

"Have to keep things interesting still," he starts with a sly grin, reaching for your arm and lightly taking it into his hand by the wrist. "If I'm too nice to you, you won't want me viscerally anymore."

The physical touch serving as a motion to have to closer to him, you follow his lead — pushing yourself across the furniture and pressed up against him with your side. Playing mad, you choose to ignore the way his fingers feel against your skin, but harder than that: ignoring his breath against your ear as his face dips down and closer to yours.

More than aware of his ability to feel your skin raising beneath his touch, you instead make an attempt to bring attention away from it.

What's the harm in a little hard to get fun on the last night, anyway?

That is, if you can hold out long enough to make it such.

"Am I supposed to still want you after this is all over?" You ask firmly, as if none too affected by the proximity of his body to your own. "Like knowing that your wife’s best friend desires you sexually or something?"

"Sure," he admits without missing a beat. "Doesn't everyone like feeling desired?"

You opt out of responding, but your lack of one does not offer the reprieve you had hoped as he continue on with the thought.

"The taboo nature of the husband and the wife’s best friend—" he whispers into you, hand on your wrist now long since abandoning its position and moving across to your thigh.

Yes, you had worn a skirt on purpose knowing the plans for the evening. Plans to only play hard to get, after all. Not actually make it all that difficult to acquire.

"—Plus, you already admitted you still thought about it long after the first arrangement ended. Am I supposed to believe you just needed a month to get it out of your system and thus you've now grown tired of me?"

"I could go off it just fine," You continue the ruse, tone pointed and unaffected as his fingertips feather up and under the hem of the garment laid across your legs.

As the tip of his middle finger edges just up against the front of your panties, you delicately attempt to squeeze your thighs shut, only for the man to take notice and disallow it immediately.

"Spread your legs."

Of course, you do as you're told. Not yet relinquished from the grip that he has on you.

The problem lie in how electric his touch is — knowing just the right way of engaging with you physically, pressing all of the correct proverbial buttons that time and time again has to coming undone for him as quickly or as slowly as he would like, depending on the circumstances — with his hand curling into your underwear and a single digit pressing against your slit, you can just about feel the way his lips turn upward at your compliance for him even now. Until the very end.

"Is that so?" Doyoung finally says in acknowledgment of your obvious lie. Eyes thin and intent on you as you try your best to not make your want for him so damn obvious. "Well, you're going to have to, after all. I can't help but wonder, though—"

Pausing the thought as he gently penetrates you with a single finger and you subsequently melting in his grasp at the feeling of it — you know you've lost, but suppose even in that there is victory.

"—Who's going to make you come the way I do? Who's going to have you a whimpering, begging mess for them the way that I do? Who will you be able to relinquish all power and control to the way you do with me?"

You know that he's using it as dirty talk in the present moment, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been asking yourself the very same questions these last few evenings spent at the marital home.

Who is going to replace Doyoung in your life?

"We'll have to find you someone nice to play with," he begins again, pulling from inside of you and turning his attention to your clit with the very same finger, instead. "Well, not too nice."

'We.'

The idea that Doyoung will be by your side, aiding you in finding and vetting any future play partners because not only is his safety important to him, but your enjoyment, as well. The idea that although it brings him great pleasure to be that sole person in your life capable of bringing you to that level of sexuality, that he knows your arrangement unsustainable long term, and him not wanting you to miss out on it just because of his unavailability.

Guess you really do have to hand it to your bestie, she really landed a keeper.

As the first, small, whimper drops from your lips, the familiar feeling of Doyoung smiling against you returns again as he meets it with praise, as always. "There she is," he says, as if having been working to summon the version of you that lie dormant and waiting to fall apart for him as he see fit.

"Come here," he whispers against your ear, low and up to no good, you're sure. "Why don't you come sit on it?"

So much for playing hard to get, the promise of being full to the brim with him one last time all too enticing to play games with, Doyoung pulls his hand away quickly to shove his pants down his legs and out of the way as you bring yourself to a knelt position atop the cushions. Turning to face him, it's a sight that you think may never get old, and that you'll likely have carried with you forever should you be able to maintain it: Doyoung's slanted lean against the back of the couch in wait for you to straddle him — long, beautiful cock in hand as he lazily strokes himself in preparation to penetrate you, and eyes gazing straight up and into your own — always granting you his full and undivided attention.

Wobbling slightly as you position yourself over his thighs and gently bear down against him, the man angling his length just right for you to impale yourself upon him, as you begin your descent and enjoy the barely-there string of his stretch, Doyoung brings his other hand up to your face to pull you down and close to his own — lips just lightly meeting — as he speaks in hushed, hidden, words.

"Sit on it before my wife gets home, yeah?"

It's something that the two of you had ballparked playing with the entire time: the infidelity that not be taking place, but rather, the illusion of it. Roleplaying.

Vaguely dabbled in at the end of your first arrangement, you suppose it only fitting to close off this one, as well.

Sinking down on him slowly, you whine into his mouth at the words. Kissing you delicately at first — more teeth and tongue added to the mix with every inch of him you bury inside of your heat — as you comfortably settle down and into his lap in full, the both of you let out an exhale that neither had been aware of your holding as your eyes meet once again before resuming any movement.

"Good?"

You nod.

Lips grazing down your chin and jaw as he sucks gently into the skin just below, Doyoung barely presses his hips upwards and against you, only enough to pull a threatened hiss from your mouth at the feeling of him almost too deep inside of you.

"Gonna have to be quiet," he whispers into your skin at the reaction of feeling him. "We don't want the missus to hear, now do we?"

"God, you feel so big right now," you say, unable to help breaking character in the moment at how impossibly full you feel. The commentary pulls a breathy laugh from the man beneath you and a small shake of his head in reaction.

"I'm trying to do something new and you just want to default back to that old shit, huh?" He jokingly chastises, hands snaking around to grasp onto your hips as a silent beckoning to begin moving. "Yeah, I get it, it's big, can we move on!"

With the both of you laughing now, the mood feels a tad bit lost — perhaps the initial one, but not the whole mood entirely. Instead, it feels perfect an ending for such a long, sexually-charged, exploratory month — full of growth and understanding and...maybe even some love there, yeah.

Maybe it's not impossible that there be space in your heart for love for him, given everything. Not romantic, or platonic, or familial — but somewhere in between. All of them and none of them simultaneously.

"Fine, geez, never met a man so upset about hearing how big his dick is," You respond with playful annoyance, finally grinding your hips down and against him to garner just that right amount of friction from inside of you that has you both groaning out in tandem at the feeling.

Bringing one hand up from your lower body and making quick work of your blouse, Doyoung palming the mound of flesh that sit eye level with him as you ride him steadily — leaning forward, he wastes no time circling one of the sensitive buds with his warm, wet tongue before fully clasping around it with his mouth and continuing the motion as you fuck him from what might typically be considered for the majority of your engagements: switched positions.

Groaning into your flesh as you find the perfect rhythm for yourself — fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip as he desperately attempts to fuck up into you and match your movements, as he pulls his mouth away from you and you both make eye contact, you realize that perhaps for once you're not the one at the mercy of the other this time, and rather, it's him.

Whining out with eyes clenched shut and dropping his back down against the sofa again, it's a simple "fuck" that escapes him, and nothing else.

But you're pretty sure you know what that means, and for once, you're not even close.

"Already?" You ask, somewhat curious, but somewhat with intent to be a little bit annoying, as well. It works just as expected, eyes flashing open and at you with the most despondent expression you could have imagined.

"Don't be like that, God."

With his jaw clenched so tight you can nearly hear the sound of his teeth gritting, you bear your weight down onto him harder — taking his cock as deeply as you can before switching to full, lengthy, bounces of your hips atop him. The switch immediately has the man beneath you moaning, and with a little bit too much proverbial pep to your step, you lean down to close to distance between your mouth and his ear just as quickly as the thought comes to you.

It's not a whisper, you don't bother making it such: really, who is going to hear?

"Gonna have to be quiet, don't want the missus to hear, do we?"

"Hear what?"

The sound of a third voice feeling a bit like how time feels the seconds before a car crash happens — the sounds of tires screeching before the crunching and clanging of mangled metal — you can't even help the shriek that resounds from you as your eyes immediately pull up at glance over at the entrance to the kitchen from the doorway hall.

Throwing yourself off of Doyoung in a fit of humiliation of also due in part to feeling as though you've been caught fucking your best friends husband (for good reason, you suppose), the man only flings his arm up and over the back end to grant himself enough leverage to turn himself to look at the sight you've only just laid eyes on.

"Saved by the bell, welcome home, honey."

"You guys are so fucking weird!"

The screech coming from you, obviously. Pulling your clothing back into place hurriedly as Doyoung does the same in a much more lackadaisical fashion, you hiss towards him as if still trying to avoid allowing the missus to hear the both of your goings on. "Did you know she was coming home tonight!?"

"No," he chuckles. "But thank God she did, huh? Things were getting a little out of hand!"

With a light tap of your ass, Doyoung stands to his feet to go greet Mina — bags still in hand as she stand with a wide, adoring grin splashed across her face.

"Have fun while I was away, darling?" She asks knowing all too well the answer. Of course, Doyoung happy to play along. "She's incorrigible, my love. Not a moment spent free from her evil clutches."

"I'm sure," Mina replies, kissing him lovingly as he walks past her and into the kitchen, all the while feigning his dismay.

"Are you going to come say 'hi'?"

"Ideally if I wait here long enough I will simply melt into the couch cushion and cease to exist."

Mina rolls her eyes at the dramatics displayed by you. "You do know I already knew you were here fucking my husband all month, right? Like, it was my idea and everything?"

Sighing, you flop around on the sofa like a child throwing an uncontrollable fit. "I know! But it still feels so weird that you...saw it! Why do I feel weird and you don't?"

"Because standardized monogamy and societal assumptions and traditional versus non-traditional relationship models; I don't think you actually want me to explain to you why but — it's fine. I caught an earlier flight in, I kinda knew there was a chance I might catch you guys. I had texted him but you know how he is with his phone."

Silence. Mina sighs.

"Can you say something? Please don't melt into that loveseat it was almost ten thousand dollars."

That being the thing that has you jumping up and off of the furniture in shock and horror, you finally look up at your best friend from across the room — taking in the sight of her gentle and loving smile and in that moment, you accept this snapshot in time for everything that it is, just the same as all of the previous ones this month.

A reminder to take people at their word. To believe what they tell you if there is love between you. To have the bravery and respect to trust someone when even in the shroud of doubt — they tell you that it's okay.

And so, you run your palms over your blouse and skirt in a rushed attempt to clean yourself up ever so slightly, and with one footstep towards the woman that you've held dearest to you for so many years, you swallow down all of the nasty feelings that no one but you and the heavy weight of unrelated parties expectations cast upon you: because after all — that has nothing to do with the three of you, right here, and right now.

"Welcome home, Mina."

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—this is part 2. part one [here].

#doyoung smut #doyoung x you #doyoung x reader #doyoung x y/n #doyoung imagines #doyoung scenarios #doyoung fanfic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fanfic

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter one: falling for me, dear?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Slytherin!reader (ft. Ex!Mattheo Riddle)

Series trope: Fake dating

Chapter one summary: While trying to hide from your ex-boyfriend Mattheo, you run into a potential ally and the scheming starts.

Warning: Swearing, allusion to cheating

Author's note: I prefer using I instead of you to refer to the reader. Feel free to comment if you’d like me to tag you when the next one goes live.

Aahh I'm so excited to publish this! It's my first time writing fan fiction and doing a series. I used to write fictional one shots years ago when I was 15. Anyway, enjoy reading! Happy to receive feedback.

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

What is Mattheo Riddle doing in the library at this hour? He’s supposed to be in class.

I close my book and grab my bag. Trying to tame my racing heart, I sneak off to the shelves. He can’t see me, nope. He no longer has the privilege to interact with me in any way, not since he broke my heart.

I curse inward, walking back, further down the shelves. My eyes dart from him and the exit, mapping out my escape plan. If I wait for him to pass the next five rows of shelves, I can—

“Oof,” I drop my book as I hit something behind me. No, not something. Someone.

I nearly fall but then strong arms catch me. “Falling for me, dear?” I hear a deep, playful voice. Lorenzo Berkshire, we knew each other casually but he and Mattheo are rivals despite being half brothers so I never had much opportunities to speak to him when we dated.

“Ha, funny Berkshire. Maybe if you didn’t randomly stand by shelves, then people wouldn’t knock into you,” I say grabbing my things off the floor and composing myself.

He raises an eyebrow, “maybe if you didn’t walk backwards, you’d actually see where you’re walking.”

“Maybe if your brother stuck to his schedule and he was where he needed to be then I wouldn’t have to go sneaking around the damn library at my damn school. Like I’m the one who did something wrong,” I reply.

“First of all, it’s half brother. And second—what?” His eyebrows knit together.

“Why are you avoiding Mattheo?” His voice softens.

I look away from him and my cheeks burn. “I just don’t want to see him,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady. It’s been three weeks yet the memories felt fresh in my mind. A night of forbidden kisses and broken promises. I can feel my eyes sting and it takes everything in me to hold it all in. 

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but knowing Mattheo, it was definitely his fault,” he says. I look at his grinning face and smile back. 

“Listen,” he leans in conspiratorially and holds his arm out to lean on the shelf.

Footsteps grow louder as Mattheo approaches, watching you smiling up at Lorenzo while he stands intimately close to you. “Get a room!” He chides.

Lorenzo smirks at you then turns to face his brother, “stalk much? If you missed me, brother, you could have just called.”

“Fuck off, Enzo,” Mattheo bites out. “I heard a thud and had to see what is was about.”

“Always looking for trouble,” Lorenzo tsked. “You know what? I’ll take your advice. I’ll fuck off and we’ll get a room.” He turns towards me, “what do you say?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I take his hand and force a smile, looking at Mattheo for the first time in weeks. God, I missed his brown eyes and those dark curls.

I inwardly slap myself to stay focused. “Thanks for the advice, Mattheo,” I say sweetly. I hold my head high and leave the library with Enzo, my sadness transformed to anger.

“Thanks for the save,” I bump my shoulder against Lorenzo’s once we’re far enough away from the library. 

He bumps my shoulder back, “any chance I can annoy Mattheo is a great opportunity in my book.”

“So listen,” I start, an idea forming in my head. “What if we continue to annoy him?”

“And how do you propose we do that?” He asks.

“By continuing this” I point between us. I didn’t expect it but I felt courageous speaking to Mattheo earlier when I was with Enzo. It felt good.

Lorenzo smirks, “darling, if you wanted to date me, all you have to do is ask.”

I hit his shoulder playfully, “fake date. Honestly, I’m still getting over Mattheo. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m not yet ready to date for real.”

“Let’s do it!” He agrees enthusiastically.

“Wait,” I stop walking. “You agreed too easily, what’s in it for you?”

“Aside from the kindness of my own heart?” He smirks. I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Here’s a tale as old as time: my father wants me to marry a pureblood. Given my dating history, he doesn’t trust me to make the right decision so he’s been setting me up with his friends’ and allies’ daughters this past year. Now normally I don’t mind wining and dining with beautiful ladies, but at this point, I’m exhausted,” he sighs.

I frown, “Shit, that’s a lot of pressure. But why? We’re still young.”

“Right, but he wants to have a strategic marriage that will keep our social status or even elevate it,” Enzo explains.

I catch on, “My father is influential in the political sphere so it would definitely help you.”

“We don’t actually have to date, don’t worry. But it’s enough to keep him off my back just until we graduate and then I’ll have more room to breathe.”

“So that’s why Mattheo was annoyed earlier! If we date, he’ll think you might marry me and then his ex-girlfriend would be his sister in law,” I realize. 

“Exactly, it’s a win-win situation,” Lorenzo grins then looks at his watch. “I have class in ten minutes. Meet me at my dorm later so we can go over the details in private?” I nod in agreement.

Lorenzo leans closer, “can I kiss you on the forehead?”

“Why of course, fake boyfriend,” I whisper with a small smile, finding an odd comfort in his proximity as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead. A few students around us whisper, witnessing something new to gossip about. 

Fake dating, what could go wrong?

main masterlist | series masterlist | chapter two: practice?

#mattheo riddle x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #slytherin boys #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x you #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #enzo x reader #amongemeraldcloudswrites

[lixie-phoria]

[14.0 sweater weather] BETTER THAN REVENGE !

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the night was loud. between jeongin and han's bickering, changbin's laughter, and chan's occasional reprimands, there was no place for awkward silence. even as the seconds advanced towards midnight, and the rest of the campus fell into a peaceful silence, jeongin's dorm was filled with noise.

and for that, you were grateful.

"you dumbass you didn't boil the ramen enough!"

"I did. This isn't my first time making ramen!"

"no it's still-"

"ok that's enough," chan interjects, throwing an exasperated glare at the youngest boys of the group. "Han if you think the ramen is undercooked just add warmer water to it."

"I don't think that's how it works-"

"oh for fucks sake just eat the damn food!"

you watch in amusement as the boy sinks further into the couch, a pout puckering against his lips as he shoves the chopsticks into his mouth.

"nobody ever takes me seriously here-"

"anyways!" changbin exclaims, meaningfully pinching han's side as his eyes raise to meet yours, "we have more important stuff to discuss than how jeongin makes ramen."

it takes you a second to realize all their eyes have turned to you - although jeongin looks unwilling.

"so yn, innie here isn't giving you too much trouble, right?" changbin teases, digging his elbow into his friend's side.

"of course i haven't-"

"let her speak!"

you laugh at the way jeongin huffs, crossing his arms before falling back into his seat, avoiding your eyes.

"he's a pain. i can't wait for this to be over," you play along - much to han and changbin's excitement as their eyes light up.

"has he? well that isn't acceptable, is it?"

"can you leave me alone?"

but that seemed to be the last thing on any of their minds as they turn their attention towards you again.

"you know when he first told us about your arrangement we were a bit worried," chan adds, "but this seems to be working out for you guys."

chan was by far the only one who hadn't teased the youngest boy, but you could clearly see he was just as interested in the conversation.

"yeah well, we're trying. we'll see how much it's really helped him after our test next week."

"yeah-"

"but has this been helping you as effectively?"

you blink at han in confusion as he leans forwards from the couch.

"what?"

"han drop it-"

"you know with the entire making yeonjun jealous plan? i hope you've been giving his cheating ass a hard time!"

yeonjun.

cheating.

oh.

all the progress you had made came crashing down in that single moment.

han hadn't anticipated the depth of his words, obviously. it was a mistake, and you understood that, but the weight still fell like solid lead down your stomach. your throat clogged up, and you could barely meet any of their eyes as the culprit slapped a hand across his mouth, evidently regretting it.

cheating little slut.

yeonjun's words came breaking through the barriers you had tried so hard to build.

it's your fault.

you didn't think it was possible, but your mother's words pierced deeper than yeonjun cheating on you.

any sensible boy would break up with you.

she was probably right. nobody in their right minds would like someone who couldn't even bring herself to move past the boy who had cheated on her.

you should apologize to him. like your mother expected you to.

your company had obviously picked up on your discomfort, and if you hadn't been so caught up you would be embarrassed at the revelation of the chink in your armor.

"you dumbass," you hear changbin hiss under his breath.

"yn im sorry-"

jeongin was the first to act - slipping his hand into yours to pull you up - sending a sharp glare towards his roommate.

"i think we're done for today," he said, gently guiding you towards the front door, picking up your books on the way.

"you guys clean up, please. i'll drop yn back to her dorm."

he only gave you enough time to bid your goodbye to the three boys - including a forgiving smile towards han - before you two stepped out into the cold night.

"you don't have to walk me back."

"it's past midnight, yn. i'm not letting you go alone."

you were grateful, despite your hesitance. the last thing you wanted was to be alone with your thoughts.

"and i'm sorry about han. he didn't mean to bring him up."

you shake your head, patting jeongin's arm in comfort. "it wasn't his fault, don't worry about it. and please tell him not to feel guilty either. it's alright."

"but are you sure you're okay?"

were you okay?

you didn't know.

until the last match, you and yeonjun were technically still on good terms. there had been no bad blood.

but after your argument? you didn't even know where your relationship stood.

you hadn't broken up officially. you were still together, and the thought was sickening. not because you wanted to break up with him. no. but because it was reassuring. and you hated the little comfort that it bought.

"yn?"

your gaze snaps to the side as jeongin's hand softly brushes yours.

"sorry, i was just thinking," you sheepishly mutter, avoiding his eyes.

he doesn't push any further, and the rest of the walk is spent in silence until you reach your block.

"thanks jeongin."

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats, smiling back as the street light shines down on him, highlighting his features.

"don't worry about it. sleep well, yeah?"

you almost send him away with that, but the cold breeze that flutters past your skin jars you into your senses.

"wait!"

you hastily take off your hoodie, patting down your ruffled hair as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"something wrong?"

"it's cold. take this. you didn't carry yours," you say, thrusting the article at him, avoiding his eyes.

"oh it's fine-"

"we have an important exam coming up. i'd hate it if you fell sick because of me."

he doesn't notice the blush dusting your face as he thankfully accepts the warmer clothing, and you're grateful for the dark.

"thanks yn."

"i should thank you."

he grins at you one last time before he's on his way back, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeves of your hoodie, sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. you hoped you weren't imagining the tips of his ears turning red. you hoped he would keep it, and only give it back when it had caught on to his scent.

in a much better mood than with which you had set out from his dorm, you almost manage push away yeonjun to the back of your mind.

that is until your phone notifies an incoming message.

never mind.

©lixie-phoria, 2024

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[cissyenthusiast010155]

19, 35, and 48 please? I don’t know if I can choose multiple prompts, so hopefully that’s okay (if not, just 19 please). I’m thinking Larissa x reader. Maybe they’ve been together for a little while, but they haven’t really ventured into a more kinky/bdsm side of their relationship yet even though they’ve discussed it. Larissa’s worried about being more dominant because she’s afraid she’ll make R uncomfortable, even though R has repeatedly said she won’t be uncomfortable. Anyway, R starts teasing Larissa and trying to bait her into dominating the absolute fuck out of her. Like, R will say things like “I get it, maybe it’s just too hard for you. Topping can be difficult, it requires a certain type of person”. Stuff like that. R’s a bit of a switch so she has experience with both sides, which makes it even more annoying for Larissa. Finally she snaps, and smut ensues in Larissa’s office. R makes Larissa work for it though, not immediately just going submissive (she keeps talking back, etc). Larissa does put her in her place though. Lots and lots of degradation please (and then Larissa makes fun of reader for getting off on being degraded). Maybe instead of a Mommy/Mistress kink, R calls Larissa Miss Weems or Principal Weems. Anyway, sorry, this is so long. Lots of degradation, maybe bondage if you feel like it, Larissa definitely being rougher with Reader. Really, add whatever kinks you want, I really like your writing so you can’t really go wrong.

If you don’t want to write this, or you’re not comfortable with it, please don’t worry about it!! ❤️

Put You in Your Place ~Dom!Larissa Weems xFem Switch!Brat!Reader

Summary— Read anon request. Anon Response— Hi hi anon! I would love to write this!! Thank you for your request. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️♥️

Mommy… Master List

Request & Prompt-List

#19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

#35. “Fuck. You did not just do that.”

#48. “Watch your mouth...”

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering, light oral sex, implied smut, teasing, taunting, dom/sub interactions, degradation, degradation kink, bratting, pussy slapping, spanking, clit stimulation, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Hey I get it, maybe it’s just too hard for you. Topping can be difficult, it requires a certain type of person…” you teased Larissa.

Your words made Larissa look up from the book she was reading and give you a glare.

She had been tolerating these teasing comments from you ever since you two had talked about wanting to spice up your sex lives, ever since Larissa had admitted to wanting to dominate you. But she was nervous and cautious. Larissa didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I’m a switch you know, I understand, I have some experience on both sides. Maybe you’re just not a top…” you hummed tauntingly.

Larissa had to admit, your commments were starting to get under her skin. You being a switch and naturally bratty didn’t help. No, it only made her more annoyed and close to snapping. But she kept her impulses to herself for now.

What Larissa really wanted was to drag you to her lap and make you behave… And that was only the beginning of what she wanted to do to you…

“Watch your mouth...” was all Larissa said in a strained tone of annoyance.

You smirked. It was working.

“You know you told me that you wanted to be more dominant, ‘Rissa, so why not just bend me over your desk…?” You ignored the woman’s warning, continuing your taunting.

Larissa strongly resisted the urge to roll her eyes at you or to groan. Instead she sighed deeply.

“But of course I wouldn’t make it easy for you. I mean, could you even top me…?”

She turned the page in her book, her hold on the book tightening in annoyance and frustration.

You weren’t going to let this go. You wanted to push Larissa as far as she could go. You wanted her to snap and dominate you. Fuck you silly.

You were close to getting your wish…

“Behave or I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…” Larissa gritted out.

You wiggled teasingly in your seat.

“I’d like to see you try…”

At this, Larissa growled. Full on growled. You had never heard sounds like that come from the poised woman. It sent sparks of electricity straight to your core.

But you weren’t giving up that easily. You stood up from your seat and sauntered over to where Larissa was sitting at her desk. You then sat down in her lap, straddling her left thigh. You then rolled your hips, letting out a leud groan in the woman’s ear. Larissa watched your every move intently. You rolled your hips a second time, letting out another leud groan.

“Fuck.” Larissa breathed out slowly, “You did not just do that.”

You bit your lip and grinned.

“I did… What are you gonna do about it…?” You taunted the woman.

Larissa growled again. Louder and lower this time. Something about it wiped the grin right off your face. Maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew…

Before you could do anything else, Larissa had lifted you by the scruff of your neck with ease, she’d spun you around, and had slammed you over the desk, bending over for her. Her hand held you firmly against the desk, your tits and faced squished.

Your heart raced and your breathing was off. You shook your ass at the woman in a teasing manner. You expected her to smack it as punishment, but she didn’t.

Instead you only felt her one hand on your back firmly. And then her other hand opening your legs wide. You heard a little shuffling off feet, before a sudden warmth against your thigh. You squirmed as Larissa licked a trail of her warmth up your inner thigh.

“Stay still.” She growled, stopping for a moment to command you, before continuing your torture.

You started to sweat. As she held you dimly against her desk, her tongue began to slowly unravel you. But again, you wouldn't give in that easy.

"I expect an answer when I give you an order…" she warily growled.

"Yes mommy…" you teasingly replied.

You gasped and cried out as Larissa hit your clothed cunt with her hand with a sharp smack.

She hit your pussy at least ten more times, leaving you shaking and fighting the desperate urge to squirm.

"It's Principal Weems or Miss Weems to you…" Larissa lustfully growled.

“Yes Miss Weems…” you groaned in a sing-song tone.

“Unless I ask you something, you are to stay silent and motionless. Understand?”

“Mhmmmm, whatever you say, Miss Weems…” you said while rolling your eyes.

She smacked your cunt five more times. This all was proving extra difficult as her tongue snaked its way to your core.

Eventually, it got to your clothed clit. Larissa’s cold fingers hooked your underwear aside with ease, before her hot mouth fully encaptured your clit and sucked.

“AhhhHhhhhHhhH—!!” You whimpered.

But your sound was met with Larissa’s mouth quickly retracting. Then followed by another hard smack to your cunt.

You bit your lip to stifle the whimper you were itching to let out. The smacks were starting to add up.

“Fuck you!!” You spat.

Larissa chuckled. She removed your pants from your body with ease. Then she smacked your ass. And hard. You were sure it would leave a mark.

“Say it again and I won’t stop until you’re crying…” Larissa growled darkly.

You couldn’t help yourself, instinctively sticking your ass high up in the air for the woman. Larissa chuckled and quirked her eyebrow.

“Oh do you like the idea of that…? You like to be spanked?” She taunted.

You nodded desperately.

“Love it Miss Weems…!!”

So she smacked your ass again. You squirmed and whimpered lightly.

“Silence, slut.”

You gasped at her choice pet name. And Larissa noticed. She leaned forward, her mouth right by the shell of your ear.

“I’m going to spank you like the little whore you are, and you are not going to make a sound… Right, pretty slut?”

You nodded.

“Yes Miss Weems…” you whimpered.

Larissa grinned at your words. And she proceeded to smack your ass raw. She truly didn’t stop until you were crying and begging for her to stop. And what she said while she spanked you, it made you the most wet that you’d ever been. You’d never heard such degrading speech.

Eventually, Larissa finally relented and got back on her knees. Latching her mouth onto your clit once more. Her free hands fingers teased your entrance too. Before giving in and giving you what you so desperately wanted, Larissa couldn’t resist the urge to fuck with you some more. Her fingers continued to tease your clit and entrance as she stood back up and placed her mouth by your ear.

“You’re such a desperately wet, slut… Need to be fucked and put in your place so badly… don’t you…?” Larissa taunted with a growl at the end.

“Mhmmmmm, miss weems p-please need it so bad…!” You whimpered desperately.

Your body was shaking and tear stains were across your face. You were sweating and in pure, tortuous bliss.

“You like it when I call you a slut, huh…? Like it when I call you out for being the whore you know you are…?”

You nodded vigorously, your cunt fluttering desperately around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, slut.” Larissa rasped in your ear.

“W-want to be full, stuffed all the way, Miss Weems… Please fill me up!! I’m your slut, stuff me full…!!” You begged the woman.

“Hmmmm… You’ve earned one finger, stupid slut…” Larissa hummed, roughly thrusting one finger inside you.

You bit your lip hard to contain the whimper that wanted to escape. And while her one finger was already heaven, you needed one stuffed full. You needed more. And she knew it.

“What’s the problem little whore…? Not enough for your massive cunt…?”

You nodded harshly with tears forming once more.

“More MORE please God more Miss Weems!!”

Your hands were now desperately fisting the sheets of the bed for some semblance of control and desperation.

“Beg, little slut… Beg me.”

You would have kept fighting the woman… if it wasn’t so easy to just give in… so you did. You crumbled. And gave the woman what she wanted… You submitted and begged.

Larissa Weems Masterlist

#Larissa weems #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #wednesday smut #wednesday netflix #cissyenthusiast010155 answers

[shyanddreamy]

A helping hand

Niragi Suguru x Reader

Summary: Niragi wasn´t at his best moment at high school. Life was unfair with him. But you noticed him. He caught your eye. What happened between you and Niragi was much more than he could ever have imagined in his wildest dreams.

Warnings: soft Niragi, mentions of bullying, violence, smut, fluff and angst (all-in-one because why not), loss of virginity, Niragi being so fucking adorable.

Author´s note: Soooo it´s my first time posting here but I needed to write Niragi´s first time and I know you needed to read it too. English is not my first language so I apologize for any possible mistakes. I really hope you like it. Love u all <3

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

Day after day, he was always alone; always in the same chair doing the same things. Exactly two hours after his arrival, he packed up his books and left for fifteen minutes before coming back with a coffee. He seemed to be pretty strict with his routine. Maybe you were a bit gossip because you had spent the last few days observing him until you learnt his schedule too. But what could you do? Studying was too boring; you needed a distraction. And he looked like an interesting one.

So that day, when he left the public library, you decided to follow him. You thought he might be going to a coffee shop, but he just was at the vending machine in the hallway.

"Hello there", you said. The boy turned back, but he looked side to side before paying attention directly to you.

"Are you talking to me?", he asked, puzzled.

"There´s no one else here except you", you answered. "Why do you carry your backpack with you just to take a break in the hallway?"

"I don´t want anyone to… steal my books"

"Cute. Are you a high-school student?", you smiled before asking, but he seemed embarrassed and confused. Anyway, he nodded. "And why don´t you study in your own school?"

"I prefer to be here. Is there any problem?"

"No, of course not. I was just curious", you said. "Do you mind if a sit next to you? I can´t concentrate by my own and you are always studying harder. Maybe I can learn something from you"

"It´s fine, I suppose"

He tried to smile, but it was more like an awkward grimace.

"I´m Y/N, by the way"

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I´m Niragi"

"It´s my pleasure, Niragi"

Since that day, you changed your favourite desk in the public library to be in the same as Niragi. Most of the time you were just sitting there in completely silence, concentrated in your own notes. He was shy and everyday took him like half hour to get used to your presence. Either social skills were not his thing, or he was not used to interacting with girls.

In the coffee breaks were when you took advantage to know more about him. He was a high school senior and wanted to get good marks so he could go to the university the following year. This was your first year at the university, so you told him all about how your experience was. People, teachers, classes, environment… it was pretty different in comparison with high school, and he seemed hopeful at your description.

Ultimately, studying with Niragi was nice. You found yourself thinking that you even felt like going to the library every afternoon, far from the laziness you felt before. But everything changed the day you saw a bruised on his cheekbone. You noticed he didn´t want to look at you at all since you were sitting in front of him and you assumed that was the reason.

After nearly fifteen minutes of hesitation about what you should do, you grabbed him by the chin and forced his face upwards. He also had traces of dried blood next to his nose.

"What happened to you?"

"It´s nothing", he answered trying to hide behind his own hair.

"It doesn´t look like nothing"

He slapped your hand away from his chin and lowered his face again. It was strange because he has never been so rude before. And before you could say anything, he grabbed his backpack and his books and ran away. You went after him without hesitation after quickly gathering your things too.

"Hey, Niragi!", you called out in the hallway getting him to stop. He had no way of escape. "I didn´t want to bother you"

"I´m sorry. It´s my fault", he apologized, turning slowly towards you with his gaze fixed on his feet and his hands clenched into fists.

"No, it´s not", you answered a bit concerned. Anyway, you tried to sound calm. "Has anyone done this to you? Maybe a classmate?"

"No. It´s nothing", he insisted, but you noticed his weeping eyes. You were pretty sure that you spot on. So carefully, you took his hand between yours to get his attention.

"I know that we have fifteen minutes to get a coffee, but I think that, only for today, we should take a longer break"

"I-I´m not sure"

You smiled cheerfully.

"Trust me"

Niragi followed you tamely, but after ten minutes walking down the street, he started to get nervous. Even more when you entered in an apartment building.

"Where are we going?", he asked to you, but you waited to answer until you were in front of your door.

"To my house", you said while you opened it. "It´s not too much, but I can´t afford any more"

"Do you live on your own?"

"Getting a job while you are at college is not much fun, but it´s better than live with my father, that´s for sure", you explained briefly. "C´mon in. I don´t bite"

However, Niragi was suspicious. While you entered in the kitchen, he sat down in the sofa frowned. It was pretty obvious how uncomfortable he was.

"Why did you bring me here?", he asked you suspicious. "I-I shouldn’t be here. Maybe I´d better leave"

When you returned to the living room, you did so with a packet of frozen vegetables in your hand and interrupted his words.

"I don´t have ice, but it will work too", you sat down next to him and pointed to his bruised. "It seems recent, so cold will help. May I?"

Niragi opened his eyes in surprise, realising that you were trying to lend him a hand. He didn´t seem to be used to anyone helping him. And in a way, it was enough to calm him down a bit.

"Don´t worry. I can do it myself"

"It´s ok. I want to do it for you"

He smiled slightly and finally nodded. You remained silence for a few minutes to make him feel comfy while you took care of his bruise carefully. However, you needed to know what really had happened to him.

"So… do you have any problems at high school?", you asked him prudently, but Niragi was still reluctant to speak. "Stay quiet only helps bullies. It´s not beneficial to you"

"I-It´s nothing new. And I can´t do anything. I tried once, but it only got worse", Niragi mumbled. "I am only a few months away from graduation, I can bear it until then"

In that kind of situations, people used to say that you should talk with a teacher or an adult, but it is easier said than done. And as much as you would like to do something about it, you couldn’t force him to do something he didn´t want to.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"I don´t want to be a nuisance, although, well, I am being one already", he muttered. As nervous as he still was, he dared to look you in the eyes. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Because you are a nice guy, Niragi", you pointed out, setting aside the packet of frozen vegetables.

"We hardly know each other"

"Yeah, I actually know so little about you because you barely talk about yourself, and yet, I´m sure you deserve much better than this"

Your words were enough to make him blush. Damn, he was adorable. You liked his shyness and how easily he got nervous with little things. But he also was clever and pretty interesting if you give him the opportunity to get comfortable enough to talk openly. High school students weren´t really your type, but Niragi could be the exception.

When you put your hand up to his face, caressing his cheek softly, he seemed confused.

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"W-What?", Niragi stammered as he shrugged his shoulders. "W-why do you want to know that?"

"Because I want to kiss you. If you want it too, of course."

He looked even more flustered than usual but, at least, he didn´t turn away from your touch.

"You don´t have to do that out of pity"

"It´s not like that", you assured him. "I do want to kiss you"

"But why would you do that?"

"Because I see you, Niragi. I really see you. And I like all what I see"

"I don´t… understand"

"Maybe one day you will"

You approached a bit more until there were only a few inches between your lips. And still caressing his cheek and his hair, you finally kissed him very softly. His mouth didn’t answer at first, but when you started moving your own lips, he did his best to follow your pace. It was obvious it was his first kiss because of his clumsiness, but you were glad to be his teacher. The only thing you wanted was to give him an excellent first kiss. And when you thought it was enough for the first time, you broke the kiss, adding some distance between both. Niragi kept his eyes closed for a few more seconds before opening them again. You couldn´t help but smile as you saw Niragi blinking repeatedly, still muddled.

"Was it good?"

"Yeah, I guess. No, I mean, of course", he responded helter-skelter, making you laugh.

"See? You are incredibly sweet"

This time, Niragi laughed too. And your heart beat faster when you saw a special shine in his eyes. At that very moment, you realized how much you loved seeing that boy happy. He was so beautiful. And you wanted to protect his kind soul.

"Can we do it again? I know I can do better"

"I will gladly repeat. As many times as you want"

***

By the time you closed the door of your apartment, Niragi had already left his backpack on the floor and was waiting for you to come closer to him.

"Seems like somebody is a bit eager"

"I´m sorry", he said, losing some of the self-confidence he displayed moments before. "I just…"

"I was just teasing you, Niragi"

You walked towards him and stood on tiptoe to get to his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He simply placed his hands gently on your waist and followed you to the couch. Niragi plopped down on the sofa and you straddle him. Since your first kiss, you decided to pick up Niragi everyday at the entrance of the library and walked together to your flat instead of staying there. You studied too but also had free time for you. You had started thinking that Niragi was trying to become a total expert in the whole kissing thing.

"Has been a good day at school?"

"Yeah, cool. Better now I´m here"

"I´m talking seriously, Niragi", you insisted, placing your hands on his chest to be able to look at him. "I want to be sure that you are alright"

"I know. And I appreciate it. But everything´s fine, Y/N"

"Well, I´m gonna try to believe you"

You continued kissing each other for a few. Your tongues were tangled and your saliva mixed. Niragi was a quick learner. When you bit his lower lip, he dug his fingers into your hips unconsciously.

"Do you want… more?"

"What do you mean?", he asked you in return, slightly frowned.

"I´m pretty sure you know what I mean. I can feel the bulge in your pants"

His face suddenly flushed and his hands left your body. Niragi even tried to push you into the sofa, embarrassed, but you reminded on top of him.

"I-I´m sorry. I-I didn´t want to make you feel uncomfortable"

"There´s nothing to be ashamed of. Actually, I would be offended if your body didn´t react in this way", you joked, but Niragi was still amazed. "And if you want it, I´m ready to move to the next level"

"I don´t know if I´m… I mean, I don´t know what to do"

"I know you are unexperienced, Niragi, but it´s not a problem for me. I can guide you", you assured to him. "However, you have to be sure that you really want to do it"

"I want to do it, I guess"

"You guess?", you repeated after him. Niragi was so insecure that he could start trembling at any time, so you decided to lend him a helping hand. "We can go ahead and, if you regret it or feel uncomfortable, we can stop whenever you want"

Niragi hesitated for a few seconds before nodding almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah, good. I like how it sounds", he said in a tone of voice so low that it was difficult to hear.

You started kissing him again slowly to restore his confidence, but this time, it didn´t take you long until you moved your lips to his neck. You felt honoured to hear his low moans as you kissed that sensitive part of his body and guided his hands to your hips again. 

"Can I unbutton your shirt?", you asked him gently.

"Yes, it´s fine"

You did it one by one, and when it was done, you left his neck to take care of his bared chest. It was pretty sad to discover some bruises there too. Niragi tensed up as he noticed your gaze on them.

"There are not recent", he promised you in a hurry. Instead of answering, you took off your own shirt and showed him the scar near your shoulder.

"This is from the last day I saw my father", you explained to his visibly puzzled grimace. "I used to have some bruises too, but they will disappear and, eventually, you will heal. People who hurt you can´t control your life. You have so many wonderful things to live, Niragi. And those assholes can´t destroy you"

Words were not coming out of his mouth. He was completely focused on your scar. And without doubting, he came up to kiss it gently. You gasped and entangled your fingers in his hair, letting him freedom to continue kissing your skin and your neck. He was trying to copy what you have done on him before. God, you wanted to go step by step, but you also needed him so bad.

"Should we go to my bedroom?"

"Yeah, I would like that"

In the living room, Niragi was more secure about it than he was when he saw the bed in front of him. He even gulped nervously, so you take his hand gently and guided him to sit on one side of the bed. You stayed upright caressing his hair.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes"

"Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to rush things"

"No. I´m sure. I want to do this", he nodded. "I want to do it with you, Y/N"

"Okay then"

You took off his shirt and caressed his chest, arms and back. The tingling of your fingertips gave him goosebumps. All these sensations were completely new to him.

Then, you got on your knees and put your hands on his trousers. Before getting rid of them, you gave him a glance waiting to his consent. And Niragi nodded again. Once done, you got back on your feet and guided his fingers to your own pants, encouraging him to do something besides staring at you. And with just your underwear, he lay back as you climbed in top of him.

"Don’t look at me like I scare you"

"You don´t", he assured you. "I´m just nervous. I don’t want to disappoint you"

"Get that idea out of your head because there is no way you can disappoint me. If I see you are enjoying it, I´m going to do it too"

You both kissed for a while as your hands explored each other’s body. Niragi was so shy at first but ended grabbing your breast firmly. His breathing got heavier in the moment you stroked his crotch. You got rid of your underwear and continued moving your hand up and down his length a few times. He already was completely hard and pre-cum was shining in his tip.

"How could you keep this secret away from me?"

"What are you talking about?", he asked to you but got puzzled by your naughty smile.

"I´m talking about what you hid under your pants. You are huge"

And immediately, Niragi was blush again. A pride and subtle smile appeared on his face even so. Maybe it was the first time you saw him being proud of something about himself. After the sex, you might teach him what else he should be proud of besides his dick.

"You meaning it?"

"Yeah, I´m just telling you the truth", you said. And when you rubbed his tip against your wetness, Niragi moaned. It was time. "Are you ready? For sure?"

"Yes, I am"

"Can you see right without your glasses?"

"Yes, for sure. I forgot about them", he said before taking them off and leaving them on the night table.

"And do you want to switch positions or something?"

"I´m good here", he answered. "And you look so pretty up there"

You smiled tenderly.

"You are the sweetest boy I ever met, Niragi"

You kissed him one more time before burring yourself in his length inch by inch. Niragi opened his mouth widely as he chocked a moan in his throat. Feeling himself completely inside of you was much more than what he could afford; the sensation was more amazing than he could have ever imagined. That´s why you gave him a few seconds to recover.

"Are you alright?"

"I have never been better"

"I´m glad to hear that"

You started moving your hips up and down slowly. His sonorous moans were music to your ears. And as you speeded up the pace, you ended up moaning too. You had wanted this since your first kiss and it was so pleasant it finally happened. His hands clung to your thighs at the same time you descended to taste his lips again. Niragi could barely kiss you back, but he did his best. Nevertheless, after a few minutes, you felt his muscles tightening. You knew what that meant.

"I-I think… I am…", he scarcely could talk.

"I know. And it´s okay. I really want to see you cumming, babe"

You caressed his hair and his chest as you quickened your pace as much as you could. Niragi looked directly into your eyes, the pleasure burning in his gaze and his moans filling the room. God, he was even cuter when he was such a mess.

"I love you, Y/N", he confessed in a gasp. "Damn, I…"

A louder moan prevented him from continuing to speak. As he cum, you stopped the movement of your hips gradually. And shortly afterwards, you moved from the top of Niragi to lay back in the bed next to him. You still caressed his chest with your fingertips, smiling as you observe his desperate attempts to catch his breath.

"Was it good?"

"Was even better. Better than anything", he answered, slowly turning his face to you with an exhausted smile. However, it didn't take long for him to change it to a worried grimace. "I have finished too fast, right?"

"It´s your first time. It´s normal"

"I´m sorry"

"Don’t apologize, dumbass", you refuted. "It has been great. I promise. And practice makes perfect"

You hugged him by the waist and left a warm kiss in his shoulder.

"So… that means we can repeat it some time?", he asked, paused.

"I would like to. But you have had enough for today", you concluded before sitting up in the bed.  Instantly you opened your arms and nodded your head at him, telling him without words to come closer to you. "Sex is amazing but cuddling after sex is stunning too"

Although a bit reluctant, Niragi decided to accept your offer and put his head over your bared chest. His arms slowly moved until he was hugged to your body and, a pair of minutes later, Niragi took a big breath of air and let it out slowly. You continued caressing his hair and his back, hoping he didn´t fall asleep.

"You were right. It feels good too", he mumbled.

"I know, baby"

His hands clutched at your body with need, as if he never wanted to let you go again.

"You are the best thing in my life, Y/N. No one has ever cared about me as much as you do"

"Is that why you said that you loved me before?"

Niragi gulped on account of your words. Probably he was trying to make like if that never happened, but it did.

"I´m sorry"

"Stop apologizing"

"But I have to. It has been out of place. I was feeling so many things a-and I said it out loud, but I´m sorry"

"I´m not annoyed", you assured. "But I need you to understand that I don´t feel the same. At least not yet. Right now, I love you as a friend; falling in love takes time"

"I get it", he said, but you noticed a slightly disillusionment in is his voice.

"However… it´s also true that you are the only person who has captured my interest in a long time. So, it´s possible that it means something"

Niragi didn´t believe that anyone could ever notice him. He thought that everyone despised him; that he deserved all the hate he got; that he was only a piece of trash. And he believed that all was his fault for being born twisted. But you had proved him wrong; you had shown him the love he never had. And Niragi could never wish for more.

"Like you said before… We don´t have to rush things", he murmured tentatively.

"Yeah, I agree"

***

Your day was being a complete disaster. You had a mentoring early at the morning, but it took longer than you expected and you were late for work. As a result, you had left later too and, by the time you arrived to the entrance of the public library, Niragi should have been waiting for you for more than half an hour. As you noticed that he wasn´t waiting for you sitting in the stairs, a group of teenagers a few meters away caught your eye.

"So, you were hiding from us, huh?", one of them laughed.

"I told you he was here, guys", another said.

"You don´t want to spend some quality time with us after classes? We always have so much fun, don´t you think, Niragi?"

It took you a few seconds to realize that one of them had Niragi by the shoulders. He was clearly uncomfortable and these five boys would be his classmates; his bullies. They turned down the street into an alleyway and you didn´t hesitate before following them. They were too busy pushing a terrified Niragi against the wall to notice you until you raised your voice.

"Here you are, guys! It´s so nice to finally have the opportunity to meet you"

Five pairs of eyes were on you at once. They looked confused, but Niragi quickly recognised you.

"Y/N, it´s fine. You should go", he made an effort to keep his voice from trembling.

Or he didn´t want you to see what they were going to do to him, or he was afraid that they might do something to you as well.

"Do you know who she is? It´s your girlfriend or something?", one of them asked him, moody. The only thing that stood out about him was his bright yellow t-shirt.

"Huh? How is this freak going to be dating such a beautiful girl?", another answered, walking towards you with a cocky smile on his face. "Is there any problem, sweetie? I can help you with whatever you need"

"So nice of you to ask", you smiled too. "The truth is that my day has been awful, but I´m so lucky that you are here to make it better"

Before he could say anything, you punched him straight in the nose, making him cry out in pain as the blood began to flow. Suddenly, you kneed him in the crotch and grabbed him by the hair before he could even react.

"I assume that you, dickhead, are the leader of this deplorable gang", you said near his face. "And I am the person you should have never crossed paths with"

"You crazy bitch. I´m gonna…"

You pulled his hair harder, forcing him to shut up.

"What are you gonna do, huh?", you asked, but didn´t obtain any answer. Then you took something out of your pocket and pressed it again that boy´s crotch. His eyes widened, frightened. "Yeah, you are right, it´s a knife. So you should listen to me carefully. If I ever see Niragi again with another bruise, I´m gonna cut your disgusting little dick before you could use it at least once in your entire pathetic life"

You saw the fear reflected in his face. He was terrified. You even thought that he could pee his pants any moment.

"Have you understood what I said?"

"Yes"

"Louder! Have you understood?!"

"Yes! Yes! I promise! I won´t do it again!"

You let him go with a shove moments later. And when you put your sight in the other four kids, they seemed to be petrified.

"The threat goes to all of you", you warned them. "Does anyone have anything else to say?"

Three of them bowed their heads submissively, but the one in the yellow shirt was reluctant yet.

"There are four of us and he is just a girl. We can handle her", he told to his friends, seeking their support.

"Planning to assault a girl in group. So brave, sweetie", you answered, smiling tenderly. "Anyways, I´m going to be nice and warn you that, before entering in this alleyway, I have called the police. I told them that five guys were following me down the street and I was so freaking scared. I suppose that, if they catch you, they won´t be as kind as I am being with you"

"You have kicked one of us! And threatened us!", he shouted. "I am the one who is going to report you to the police"

"It´s your word against mine; an innocent pretty little lady vs five good-for-nothing jerks. Are you sure that they are going to believe you?"

"I can´t go to jail. I´m too young", one of them complained.

"Me too. We should run"

"Maybe we can hide before police came here"

"Finally one of you says something coherent", you commented.

Moments later, without even bothering to say goodbye, they started running out of the alleyway, helping his injured leader to run as fast as them.

"Nice to meet you, guys! You were right, it has been a lot of fun with you all!", you shouted, hoping they could still hear you.

Only when you saw them turning the street, you paid attention to the person who had been in the background all this time. You were alone with Niragi, who was looking at you like if he didn´t know you. He seemed unable to process what had just happened.

"Have I gone too far with them?"

"What the… What have you done?", he finally asked, bewildered.

"I´m sorry. Maybe I should have asked you before doing anything by my own"

"You have threatened them with cutting his…", Niragi couldn't even finish the sentence. "Why do you have a knife?"

"It´s not a knife. It´s a comb. A pocket´s comb", you said, opening and showing it to Niragi. "But that moron was too scared to look at it. And I have sound pretty convincing"

And just like that, after a few seconds of absolute silence, Niragi did something you didn´t expected: he laughed. He laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall. You let him let it all out until, just a few minutes later, he managed to calm himself down.  You've never seen him laughing like this before. And the truth is, it was a bit strange.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Are you kidding me? It has been incredible! I´m feeling more than well", he assured you. "But, what about the police?"

"It was a lie too," you answered. "I knew they would be such cowards"

You went to your house like you supposed to do before the incident happened. Sitting on the sofa with a soda everything seemed better, but Niragi still had too many questions in his mind. He was amazed.

"They were terrified", he smiled, but his gaze soon fell upon you. "I didn´t knew you could be so… I don´t know. I couldn´t imagine you like that"

"Now you know. I guess that´s what happens when life isn´t fair with you. You learn some tricks", you mumbled. "If nobody is there for you, you must become your own saviour. And when you have so much hate inside, your soul gets dark and rotten. That’s why I wanted to protect you before yours was too broken"

"But I don´t want you to protect me, Y/N. I want to be like you. I don´t want anyone to be able to hurt me again"

Niragi was freaking out; seemed astounded. You have never seen him like that, so full of life. You could see it in his eyes; maybe you were too late to save his kind soul. Maybe it wasn´t so kind since the beginning.

"You have enjoyed it. You didn´t just want them to stop; you wanted to fight back, to make them suffer"

Niragi bowed his head as if he were ashamed of his own thoughts. Or maybe he wasn´t ashamed of his mind at all, he only didn´t want anyone to discover all the dark things that were on it.

"There's no reason for you to lie to me. I had tried to prevent you from seeing that part of me because I didn´t want to lose you. I know I´m not a good person, Niragi, but I have no regrets about the way I am", you confessed. "And back there, in the alleyway, when your classmates left and you were looking at me, I have noticed the bulge in your pants. The situation has turned you on"

Niragi flushed and his knuckles turned white from clenching his fists in his lap.

"I can´t say out loud what´s on my mind. I´m twisted. A disgusting freak"

"Society may reject people like us. People who are so fucked up inside that only want to see the world burn. But you can be genuine with me. No matter what you say or what you do, I will never run away from you. Your dark side doesn´t scare me, Suguru"

Niragi´s eyes were wet. He always had thought that he will always be alone, but he saw a part of himself reflected on you. For the first time in his lifetime, he had been lucky to have your paths cross. And without hesitation, Niragi hugged you vehemently and you hugged him back trying to comfort him.

"Don´t ever leave me, Y/N. Please, don´t go"

"I won´t. I promise"

You felt his tears in your cheek and you held him tighter, but you allowed him to let it all out by crying. Sometimes people just needed to have someone by their side; someone to love them no matter what, despite their shortcomings. And from now on, you were going to be there for Niragi just as he was going to be there for you. Neither of you would ever be alone again.

#niragi suguru #suguru niragi #niragi alice in borderland #alice in borderland #dori sakurada #niragi #niragi x reader #aib niragi #niragi smut

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Enjoy Simon being a gentleman in this part 😉. I can't find a nice pic to post here so maybe I'll skip that. Anyway, just wanted to let y'all know that in this fic, reader is 25 years old and Simon is 28.

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub, leave her Johnny, leave- oi, ye cannae be serious. Take off that mask!”

Johnny's singing was interrupted by Simon, who was just entering his living room, dressed and ready to leave to meet ____. He looked at the agitated Johnny, who was now sitting up straight on the couch. 

“What d'you mean?” Simon asked, pretending not to have understood or heard his friend. 

“The maaask. Take it off,” Johnny ordered, gesticulating wildly, “Why'd ye want tae wear it if ye showed yer face to her already?”

Simon rolled his eyes, now taking off the mask, making Johnny smile. He settled back on the couch comfortably. “That's more like it. Oh, also… Catch.” Johnny stuffed his hand in his pocket and threw something at Simon, which he caught. 

It was a condom. 

“Johnny! I don't fucking need this!” Simon roared, throwing back the contraceptive, which hit his friend in the face and fell on his lap. 

“Ye don't? So yer gonna rrrrrawdog her then, are ye, ye animal?” Johnny smirked, clearly trying to annoy Simon, especially by rolling his r's more than usual.

“Johnny…” Simon's voice lowered to a threatening growl. 

The room thundered with Johnny's laughter; having known Simon too long, he wasn't threatened by him, but he relented regardless, not wanting him to be in a bad mood before meeting his crush. “Okay, okay, if ye have nae use for a condom, I have something better for ye.” He beckoned his friend to sit with him on the couch. 

“This better be good.” Simon narrowed his eyes, noting a mischievous glint in his best friend's eyes as he sat down. 

“She's an author, yeah? Those book lassies will love this. I'll tell ye.” 

In the meantime, Simon's crush found herself in front of her mirror getting dolled up by her best friend, Lindsey, who turned the bathroom into a university lecture hall. 

“Tell you what, babe,” said she as she very lightly brushed some blush on her friend's cheeks, “Boys will never make the first move, yeah? So you have to openly flirt with them, right? You literally have to hold up a sign at them telling them you're interested.” 

____ tried to chuckle, but Lindsey lightly slapped her shoulder. “Don't move yet,” she ordered, throwing her long, curly red hair over her shoulder. 

Lindsey finished up the simple, natural looking makeup look and spritzed some setting spray on her friend's face. ____ still didn't dare move, because Lindsey was checking for any mistakes, scanning with her big green eyes. A bit of an odd thing to do, especially after putting the setting spray. 

“Lovely!” she exclaimed, slamming down the can of setting spray on the bathroom counter, “Now you can move.” 

While ____ admired herself and Lindsey's makeup skills in the mirror, Lindsey watched, her smile slowly disappearing; her shoulders slumped slightly as she moved behind her friend, giving her a worried look in the mirror. 

“What's wrong, Linny?” she asked, noticing the look. 

“This Simon guy… Is he really good?” Lindsey whispered, lightly squeezing the other's shoulders while glancing at the phone on the bathroom counter. “He's not like the other guy, right?” 

____’s brows furrowed slightly. She placed her hand over Lindsey's and squeezed it. “Don't worry, Simon's nice, and we're actually a lot closer in age, if that's what worries you.” 

Lindsey was relieved about the smaller age gap, but didn't look completely convinced. She said, “He's nice so far. You do know that a crush is a lack of information, right?” 

The only infuriating thing about Lindsey was how she could get a little too realistic. 

____ sighed. “Linny, that's the whole reason why I'm going to hang out with him: to find out if he's better than nice.”

Lindsey huffed, but nodded anyway. “Okay, but if anything happens, you know who to call.” 

“You worry too much.” 

“Because you're literally so hopeless when it comes to men.” Lindsey let out a chuckle as she lovingly wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and gave her a back hug. ____ leaned into it, grateful for the concern of her ever worrying friend. 

It was soon time to leave. The two ladies headed downstairs to the entrance of the building, where ____ was to wait for Simon to pick her up. Since Lindsey had other plans, she couldn't wait with her friend, and had to go. 

And so did ____ wait by herself, watching the cars go by on the glistening, wet streets. The night air was cold from an earlier rain, and the jacket in her hands seemed to be calling her to wear it and feel warm. 

“I hope he won't find it weird if I wear his jacket,” she thought as she put the garment on after much mental debate. The warmth immediately silenced her thoughts, and she just decided to enjoy it while it lasted. 

Before long, Simon pulled up to the entrance, but the pillion was occupied by an unfamiliar man with a cheeky smile and a short, dark brown mohawk. As he got off, he whispered something to Simon and then turned around. The man grinned at the waiting lady and then walked off. She, confused, returned the gesture with a little smile of her own and then walked up to Simon. 

“Who was that?” she asked as soon as she was near the motorcycle. 

“Don't mind him. He's my friend, Johnny. I had to drop him off around here since he had some stuff to do, so…” he shrugged. “Were you waiting long?” 

She smiled. “Not at all. I came out just five minutes ago.” 

“Brilliant,” he said with a nod and then took notice of her outfit. “You're wearing my jacket,” he observed, sounding amused. 

She noticed his cheeks going up from behind his mask; a smile. “Uh, yeah,” she answered, blushing a little, “I'm sorry, I felt a little cold so I put it on.” 

“No worries.” His voice mellowed as he stared at her, taking in the sight of her in his jacket, “Keep it on. You look good in it.” 

“Thanks,” she grinned, now taking hold of his shoulder as she got up on the pillion. 

Johnny was in the distance, watching the two with wide smiles. He even managed to secretly snap a few photos of them as they talked so that he could tease Simon with it later. 

“Hey you! Delete that picture right now!” a high pitched voice ordered behind Johnny, making him flinch in surprise. 

He immediately turned around, but saw nobody. But when he looked down, he saw a little lady in front of him, arms crossed and staring at him with furrowed brows. 

Johnny, for a moment, was taken in by her beauty. Her pale face was dotted with red freckles, more intense on her cheeks, and her hair was a deep red like the color of the setting sun, loosely coiled like curled satin ribbons. Her flashing eyes were a light green, the color of grass reflecting evening sunlight.

It took a moment for him to regain himself, and when he did, he cleared his throat, saying, “Lassie, that's my friend there,” he answered, pointing to Simon, “I'm gonna tease him with this photo. I'm no’ gonna delete it.” 

“And that girl with him is my friend,” she declared, “And I don't really trust that guy she's going out with today.” 

Johnny wasn't sure what prompted her to say that, but his eyebrows rose with intrigue anyway.

“Small world,” he remarked and then put forward a proposal with a wide grin, “Tell ye wit, wee lassie, we can dae something together. Let's both stalk them. Ye get to see my lad Simon in a good light, and I get to take some candids of them, yeah? Wit dae ye think?” He opened both his hands out to her and batted his eyelids, hoping she would accept. 

“No!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms, “It's not good to stalk.” 

Johnny groaned. “But dinnae ye want tae see if Simon is good for yer best friend? This is a win-win situation! I can show ye all his good points!” 

“You're only saying that because you're his friend,” she challenged. 

“No, no, listen here lassie,” he waved his hand, now meeting her eye, “I've known Simon since we were wee lads. I know everything about him, and I can assure ye that he's good. Let him have a chance, won't ye?”

The little lady paused. Was she going to trust him? While she wanted her friend to be happy, she didn't want to sabotage her friend's chances with her crush because of her incessant worrying. 

Johnny could see her mental debate and smirked at how funny her thoughtful face looked; it was a sneer with furrowed brows, while her fingers tapped over her crossed arms. She eventually relented. 

“Perfect! Now we go stalk them.” He held out his hand to her. “By the way, I'm John, or Johnny.”

She cautiously took his hand and shook it, answering, “Lindsey.” 

Simon and ____ already reached the restaurant they decided to have dinner in. He led her to a quieter part of the establishment where they could chat in peace, and just as she was about to pull out her chair to sit, he held out his hand to stop her. 

“Allow me,” he smiled and pulled out the chair for her. 

Her face glowed with joy and excitement at this display of chivalry as she sat down. Her reaction made him smirk to himself, mentally thanking Johnny for this important tip. 

“You're such a gentleman,” she praised, smiling widely as she watched him take his seat opposite to her, “I know we're in the age of the strong, independent woman, but wow, it's actually really nice to be treated like this.”

Her blushes were encouragement enough, and he smiled. 

“Thank you, I try,” he bragged. “Do you normally like this sort of thing? Or do you like it from me?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. 

She laughed, not yet willing to admit that she liked it especially from him. She answered, “I like it generally. It’s just nice to know that someone is thoughtful enough to do a gesture like that, you know? Even though it was the standard back in the day.”

Simon took mental note of that. 

Any further conversation was interrupted when a waiter brought them two menus and glasses of water. While the two pored over the laminated card to decide what to get, the lady was momentarily distracted by the sight of the man in front of her. 

He wore a black button up shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled up his thick forearm, the rest of it tightening around his flexed biceps; the unbuttoned collar displayed his neck and a metal chain underneath, which made her wonder what was dangling at the end of it. He wore blue chinos, and black sneakers. It was the best casual outfit he could put together with Johnny's help. 

The outfit, in addition to his handsome, unobscured face was a treat to sore eyes. She couldn't help but allow her eye to linger on the curious scar on his cheek, and to wonder about the cause of it. 

Simon noticed her gaze and he met her eyes with a cheeky smile. “You're staring,” he told her. 

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sheepish smirk. “I was just thinking your outfit looks really nice.” 

“Thank you, I try,” he echoed his earlier line with a smirk and a proud shrug, but really, he would've been hopeless without Johnny giving him such meticulous advice on the basic rules of dressing well. “You look nice too,” he decided to turn the tables on her, “Especially wearing that.” He pointed at his jacket that she was still wearing. 

She blushed at that. “I can't take it off. It's nice and toasty in here.” 

“I don't mind you wearing it for the rest of the evening, so long as you give it back later. It's my favourite.” 

She grinned. “I'll take good care of it.” 

The waiter came by again, and the two placed an order for a 12 inch pizza to share and some drinks.

Small talk was made, until it led to the topic of her novel. 

“I only just finished reading Firefly Trails a couple days ago and I must say that you're a brilliant author,” Simon praised, “I could not have expected a plot twist when Adelheid was betrayed by Elystran just to get a hold of the magical fireflies.”

The lady snorted proudly and jokingly patted herself on the back. “You can count on me to make a good plot twist.” 

“No, but seriously. I really didn't see it coming,” Simon leaned forward slightly with eagerness twinkling in his dark eyes, “You see a friend betraying someone all the time in the media, yeah? But this one was so unexpected, especially when Elystran stole the bottle of captive fireflies from Adelheid. It's really awful how he had no remorse in potentially letting her die without a cure for her disease, just so he could save the kingdom he was going to rule. He was a very convincing actor.”

She found herself gazing at him as he went on with his long winded speech about Elystran, the anti-hero of her novel, who pretended to be Adelheid's close ally. It was heartwarming to her to see his enthusiasm for her work, but she also wondered if he resonated with Elystran in some way. 

Simon's pale face was a little pink with exertion after the speech and he finally sat back, tugging at his collar and flapping his shirt. “A bit hot in here, innit?” he asked. 

“The air con is working just fine. I think it's because of your passionate speech that you're feeling so hot,” she said with a grin. 

Simon's pink face turned a hint more pink at the observation. He was usually reserved with people he knew a little less, but he hadn't realised how passionate and talkative he had gotten about a fictional character. He could attest this to the fact that she wrote so well as to stir his normally taciturn feelings. Art never stirred his soul, but if hers did, he was damned. 

He nodded, admitting, “Well, it was because you write so well. Anyone who doesn't talk so passionately about it is missing a few bolts.”

The high regard in the compliment made her giggle. She rested her chin on her hand and looked teasingly at him, saying, “So, you told me that you're getting more into reading thanks to Firefly Trails.” 

“I never wanted to be a reader, but it's all your fault now that you're turning me into one.” Simon unconsciously mirrored her as he smirked, returning her look with his playful sarcasm.

“I'm honored,” she grinned at him, “Do you want recommendations for more books?” 

Simon pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He handed the phone to her. “Fill my cup, darling.”

A wide smile graced her face as she excitedly snatched the phone and started typing away her list of recommended books. Simon watched her with wonder, smiling at her enthusiasm. He was truly interested in reading now, thanks to her, and to see her so excited about suggesting him more made him feel loved, in a way. 

And the love of a woman was truly something different, even if it was just platonic. 

He sighed as he stared at her, at how focused she was on typing out the list. When he thought of it, he couldn't really remember if he had a normal friendship with anyone of the opposite sex before, all thanks to his unhappy, troubled youth. 

“By the way, Simon,” she called, now lifting her eyes from his phone, only to be met with his thoughtful thousand yard stare directed at her.

“Simonnnn, can you hear me?” she called again, snapping a finger in his face. 

“Huh?” he blinked. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, I was just thinking of something.” 

“It's alright,” she smiled, wondering what his stare meant. She asked, “I was wondering why you call me darling and love so often.” 

His eyes rolled off elsewhere as he tried to think of an answer that wouldn't give away what he felt for her. “Well,” he began, voice quivering slightly, “It's just something I call the women in my life, yeah? Female friends and maybe family members. I think it’s also a British thing.” He shrugged. 

It was only the partial truth. 

“Hmm. I see,” she nodded, her eyes still glued to the phone. As she moved her hand to get a sip of the water, her finger accidentally swiped to the home screen of his phone, and she couldn't figure out where to go back to the notes app. The little mishap allowed her to take notice of his phone background, which was a closeup photo of a German Shepherd looking directly at the camera with its large, inquisitive eyes. She gave him his phone back, asking him to help her get back to the notes app. 

“I just happened to see your home screen. Is that dog yours?” she asked as he gave the phone back to her, now displaying the notes app. 

“My uncle's.”

“He's beautiful. What's his name?” she questioned, now getting back to typing out the book list. 

“It's a female. Her name’s Riley.”

“Riley! Like your surname?” 

“Yeah. I found her starved and thrown in a dumpster as a puppy, and I called my uncle to help me get her out. He adopted her and named her after me,” he said with a chuckle. 

She smiled as she finished typing out the list and handed the phone back to him. “That's really nice, and really strange too, because my ex has a female German Shepherd named Riley too.”

Simon raised a brow as he took the phone and glanced at the list before keeping the device aside. “Chalk that off as a coincidence. I guess many people have German Shepherds named Riley. The name is quite common… I think,” he said. But the mention of the ex intrigued him. “You mentioned your ex. So, you've dated before, then?” he asked directly but casually, hoping he wasn't being too nosy. 

She shrugged. “Yeah, one guy.” 

“What happened with your ex, if you don't mind me asking?”

He saw that she stiffened slightly and looked away for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. He was so close to backing off when she answered him, “Well…” she paused to suck in a sharp breath through her teeth, “He was an older guy, and I happened to keep bumping into him at my local grocery store.”

He raised a brow, first of all at the fact that she dated someone older, and second of all, she met him at the grocery store, the least romantic place to find a boyfriend. But he didn't say anything and listened anyway. 

“The first time we met, he mistook me for an employee and asked me where he could find the dog food,” she chuckled, “He was new to the area and didn't know where to find it in the grocery store, and I was also wearing something similar to the uniform of the store employees.”

“So you two hit it off then?” 

“Yeah, after that, we'd have small talk, and he was actually quite charming. He asked me out on a date, we liked each other, and then we dated for two months.”

“Hm, that's not very long, innit?” he murmured, “How old were both of you?” 

“I was nineteen and he was thirty-five.” 

“Holy fuck,” his eyes widened slightly, “Nineteen? That's really young.” He then paused to count, “And you guys had a sixteen year age gap.”

Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Yeah, I know, it's crazy.” 

“You prefer older blokes then?” asked Simon, fiddling with his fingers as he leaned forward on the table, hoping she would refute it. 

“Well no, but I was…” she sighed, “I was trying to figure out what sort of man I liked.” 

“And your first choice was an older man,” he thought to himself, but didn't say it out loud. “Wasn't that potentially dangerous though? Sure, you weren't a minor, but you were still young.” 

She sighed again, but heavier this time. “Yeah, it kind of messed me up a little.” 

“It did? How?” 

She told him about how he could get a little demanding when it came to spending time with him, as she was a budding author at the time, and was busy with writing a good piece that was worth publishing. 

“Of course, even though I was busy, I tried my best to spend time with him. But he just wasn't satisfied. And since I lived at the dorm in uni, I had a curfew, but he would disregard it completely and beg me to stay and spend the night with him, when I wasn't comfortable with it yet. Thanks to that, just being around him ramped up my anxiety, and our relationship that was once enjoyable wasn't anymore.”

Simon felt tempted to ask if she had done anything intimate with her ex, but bit back, not wanting to come off as rude and intrusive. He listened with narrowed eyes and keen earnestness. “And so you broke up then?” he asked. 

“Yeah, and it surprisingly went well. Both of us mutually agreed that the relationship wouldn't work out, and we parted ways.” She paused for a long time and Simon didn't break her spell of silence, sensing a struggle in her to say the next words. She finally continued, “I thought that that was the end of it, but lately he's been calling me again, asking me if we could get back together.” 

Simon raised a brow again. “What? How daft is he? He has no shame groveling back to you.”

“Yeah… I spoke to him once to clearly tell him I wasn't interested anymore, but I don't think he understands.” 

As if on cue, her phone started ringing. When she checked who was calling, she recognized the unsaved number immediately, having seen it several times. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, feeling the same old anxious feeling rise from her chest to constrict her throat. “It's him,” she said, her voice quivering. 

Simon held out his hand. “I'll speak to him.” 

“Are you sure?” she asked frantically. 

“I'm sure. Give it here before he cuts it,” he urged. 

She hastily placed the ringing phone in his hand and he immediately picked it up. 

“Hello, mate. ____’s boyfriend here. What do you want with my missus?” he asked calmly. 

There was a brief silence. 

“Simon?” asked the deep, rumbling, yet gentle voice on the other side. 

The colour drained from Simon's face as he recognized the voice he knew and loved. 

“Uncle John?” 

Plot twist?

End of Part 5.

Part 6

-

I'm making a taglist btw. Leave a comment if you want to be included!

#aoioozora writes #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfictions #cod ghost #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #cod ghost fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #simon riley #Simon series

[rosewould]

pit stop; cyj

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab, blk!reader x yeonjun

🖊️⇝ word count; 8.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; friends 2 lovers, smut, fluff, & light angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; you should probably buy a lottery ticket with how luck you are when it comes to running into celebrities... despite just moving to a new country

🖊️⇝ warnings; very cliche "forbidden love w/ an idol" trope, end is unedited, mc thirsting heavily for mingi, heat of the moment sex, PIV, unprotected sex (mc is on bc), creampie, squirting, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight posessiveness, mc has faux locs at one point

📜⇝ HAPPY BHM!!!!! Would you believe me if I said I started this last BHM? :D Anyways if you're not a black woman you should still read this because it slaps. It would've been even better if I managed to post during valentine's day too.

There are many things that can go wrong in a foreign country all on your own, but for your own health, you push them to the wayside. Maybe you pushed them too far because now you’re stranded with a flat tire miles away from where you’ll be staying. It’s only your first day and you already managed to fuck it up. You have to commend your ability to surprise yourself even after all these years.

You don’t have a local SIM card and your phone is completely off. You should’ve listened to the internet when they gave you a long list of how to prepare your phone when moving abroad. Now it’s useless. You laugh humorlessly as the odds continue to stack against you. Do people stop for hitchhikers in Korea?

You try anyway, you know enough Korean to give them an idea of how to help you. Many cars slow down but zero cars stop. Some even roll down their windows to stare into your eyes as they leave you stranded. You don’t have proof, but you swear one of them took a picture. You can’t be appalled by their actions, it’s not like you came from the most friendly country anyway.

“Come on, people. Just a little slack. Cut me just a little.” You murmur desperately, forcing a strained smile as you wave down another car. It’s another window roller that leaves you behind. You suppose it must be a strange sight. And maybe they’re worried you don’t speak Korean. There you go again, waving any worrying conclusions away. Don’t wanna prove your family right.

Then comes yet another car slowing down. Except, this one is slowing to a stop. It’s a flashy car, much flashier than anything you’ve seen thus far. You don’t know much about cars, but you know the person you see once the window rolls down must be well off. He peeks at you with intrigue and a bit of amusement, his sly vibe fitting for his fox-like features.

“Need help?”

You nearly collapse to your knees in relief. Not only is he stopping to help you but he can speak English so you don’t have to embarrass yourself. “Yes! My car has a flat. My phone doesn’t work, I just need car… service… people.” God, can you speak English? You’re already huffing, looking really weird to this handsome rich man and the other handsome rich man in the passenger seat. 

“Are you a MOA?” Yet another man pokes his head out from the backseat to peek at you. His eyes are critical despite their roundness. He raises his eyebrows in a way that makes you think there’s a wrong answer. Your brain is already overworked for the day so you answer honestly. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what that is.”

Assuming you can’t understand, he mumbles “leave her” in Korean and slinks back into the backseat. 

“I’ll call the car service people for you.” The driver smirks and you can tell he’s making fun of you. You just force a smile and thank the man before retreating back into your car. Shut inside the one space familiar to you feels like finally getting a moment to breathe and reflect. This is just a little hiccup. Soon you’ll be at your new home and next week you’ll be working again. 

You were consumed in a book whenever help arrives, and lifting your head, you notice that flashy car is still there.

Luckily enough, the maintenance truck had an inflated spare available and you were on your way, but not before thanking the driver. As you approach he rolls the window down again before leaning his arm on the door.

“Thank you so much, I’m not sure how long I would’ve been out here if you didn’t help me.” You sigh. You weren’t sure what you could offer him to express your gratitude, you were pretty useless as of now. 

“It’s no problem. The least I can ask for is that you don’t tell anyone you saw us here.”

You have trouble keeping a smile on your face as a hint of dread sets in. Why wouldn’t they be allowed in the countryside? Were they criminals? Is this a common location for crime?

“I know you don’t know us yet, but in case you find out from the internet, just keep this between us.”

You did not find out from the internet. You found out eight days later when you saw a cardboard cut out of the driver in the mall. Holding up a makeup product he didn’t need with a smile that almost hides the eternal mischief hidden in his expression both times you’ve seen him. This whole time you thought they were notorious criminals and you were going to get booked before you even stepped foot at home. But no, the nice car was from them being idols, not criminals.

Maybe you were a bit in the dark about k-pop idols, but why weren’t they allowed to drive around? You hold that thought, possibly forever because you had just experienced a pretty rare occurrence so early into your move.  

-🖊️⇝

Tonight was your first office party since your move. Your boss saved up to rent out a hotel venue and even scored you and your coworkers rooms for the night. Less risky without the threat of drunk driving or getting kidnapped you guess.

“I could only book the ballroom today, so I’m sorry but you can’t wander around. You can only go in this room and the floor where your rooms are located. There’s a celebrity staying here and the hotel is pretty much on lockdown.”

Your coworkers immediately get to gossiping about who’s here and all you can do is marvel at the odds. There was no way you’d be meeting another celebrity. The odds are even more unfathomable than you previously thought. You break the rules on accident, drunkenly tapping the wrong floor number. Your eyes are closed when you stumble out and run into someone tall. 

“Um, this floor is… off limits.” The man grabs you by your shoulders and holds you at arm's length. Your head lolls back and you get a good look at the guy and he, in turn, gets a glimpse of you. His jaw drops open and he looks over to the other men behind him. Your brain had been too debilitated to translate Korean. 

“Hey! Are you that girl? Flat tire?” A familiar voice rings out and snaps you from your daze and you attempt to hold your head up straight. “Yeah! Car service people!” The driver whose name you’re sure starts with a Y says excitedly. Again with the mischief, sticking its pesky little head out more confidently with the teasing nickname.

“No way it’s you guys again.” You chuckle drowsily.

“Yes way!” The blond man lets go of your shoulders.

“Are you a MOA yet?” It was the one from the backseat asking the same question yet again. It completely slipped your mind to figure out what that meant.

“I still have no idea what that is.” You flash a tight smile as he narrows his eyes at you. One of the two you haven’t spoken to yet says something frantically to the others in Korean before they all turn to look at you. 

“Hey… do you want some water?” Y approaches you, speaking almost like he’s about to sell you something. Your eyes roll back, your urge to rest almost winning the fight.

“I want to go to sleep.”

“Let’s get you some water!” The blond one says enthusiastically before ushering you into a door down the hall. They talk to each other as you gulp down a cold bottle of water, slumped in the living chair they frantically cleared for you. This would help with your hangover tomorrow anyway. After they deliberate with themselves Y turns to you.

“Is your party still happening?” He kneels before you, talking to you like a lost child.

“Yeah, I left early.”

“Great! We were gonna sneak down there ourselves, but you going back would be easier.”

“You want me to go back?” You barely swallow your water before you ask. “Yeah. All we were given was fruit. We can’t survive on fruit and the food smells so good.” He pleads with his eyes before the blond chips in. 

“Please? We’re hungry.”

Downing your second bottle, you look at them warily as your mind sobers up. “You guys are famous. Can’t you just get room service?”

“No, we’re banned from it. They told the hotel not to serve us.” The black-haired one who looks to be the tallest or close to it pipes in. Much too massive for his youthful vibe.

You look at each pair of puppy eyes incredulously. “So they’re starving you?”

Yeonjun is quick to clear the air, starting to explain again that they had fruit before Mr. MOA interrupts him. “Yes!! We’re starving!” His whining is cut off by the blond scolding him.

“What are your names?” You ask once you realize you have no idea. 

You learn each of their names and each of the food items they want brought to them. You have five styrofoam containers filled to the brim in both arms as you board the elevator. You’re aware they’re exaggerating, but concern for them still flares up. They were pretty thin, and you’ve heard whispers of their insane diets. But you do what you do best. They seem fine, and they wouldn’t have the energy they’re exhibiting currently if something was wrong.

Thankfully, no one was on there with you. That is, until you see that someone had pressed the button from your floor. You stand there awkwardly as your coworker looks at you like you have five heads. Then he sees that you’ve pressed the button for a forbidden floor.

“K-pop fan?”

You sigh, shifting the containers in your hands. “No. I’m acting as a food delivery service.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t press you, nor will he say anything. None of your coworkers are the type. The idols are waiting impatiently by the elevator when the door opens, hurriedly unloading each container.

How you ended up with five grown men in your hotel room was really a blur. Apparently their manager might walk in and bust them if they stay in their room. “We’ll be quick!” They promised.

Now Beomgyu and Kai are napping on your bed while you lean against the wall. Yeonjun’s eating whatever is left over in the living chair in the corner, smiling happily at you. 

“I love you. I could kiss you.” He manages with his cheeks full of food. 

You give him a tight smile, familiar with his habitual attempts to fluster you by now. “That’s not necessary. Your manager is probably looking for you guys.”

“Nah. We’re allowed to wander around as long as we’re in our room before 1 am. Today was our last day.” You chew on his words as he chews on the remnants of his food. He swallows hard, forcing what seems to be a painfully large chunk of food down his throat. Food seems to placate his teasing disposition, a thought that makes you cover your mouth to conceal your smirk. It takes a moment for him to recuperate before he speaks again.

"What do you wanna do right now?" He narrows his eyes, pointing his plastic cutlery at you.

You’re not sure what he means exactly, even after taking a moment to let your eyes flit around the room. So you do what you usually do, shrug and be honest. "Around this time I'd be playing some game until my eyes are painfully dry."

He halts mid container disposal to peer at you excitedly. "You play video games? Which ones?"

Finally, something you were a natural at talking about. "I like games like Minecraft or Rust, but I dabble in FPS games too-" You get caught up in one of your favorite conversation topics, surprised when Yeonjun dumps his trash quickly before marching over to you and taking your hands.

"Oh please tell me you play Valorant."

"Yeah, like I said, I dabble-"

"Okay, I'm really gonna kiss you."

“Don’t you dare-” Your words are cut off by a chaotic mixture of a gasp and laugh when he pokes his lips out, leaning in slowly. He unpuckers his lips and they settle into a smirk. The realization of how close you are to each other sets in and brings about a strong flow of energy between you two. You shake his hands off yours and shove him away, forcibly resuming your playful aura. He laughs, widening his eyes once it dies down.

“Oh, I cannot wait to kick your ass.” He points, eyes posing as a warning. You huff as you pick up a towel. You sling it over your shoulder before raising your eyebrows at him. “Is that a bet or a promise?” 

And to think if your office party was planned even a day later, you would’ve probably never seen them again. Yeonjun nabs your phone while you were in the bathroom, sticking his number in there. The first important milestone of your relationship with the boys was being added to their group chat. Then you visited their dorms and them, your apartment. You weren’t aware of the transition, you just looked up and it felt natural to be around each other.

“___’s on!” Yeonjun cheers through your headset. He pauses once you turn on your webcam. “You found a hairstylist?”

“Yeah. Turns out there are black ones here. I never knew.” You reply, half paying attention as you adjust your camera.

“I know there’s a Korean name for that style but I feel like it’s… not correct. What’s it called in English?”

“Locs! Do you like ‘em?” You comb your fingers through each loc, careful not to tug at your tender scalp. “They fit you so well I forgot how you looked before.” He says as if he’s shocked by his own accuracy.

“You’re so right. I should’ve popped out the womb with locs.” You chuckle to yourself, unable to stop playing with your hair. Yeonjun has that look on his face like he’s about to smart-mouth you. “Locs and not wounding your own teammates would’ve been really handy.” He tries to quip quickly in an attempt to fly under your radar.

Your smile is immediately wiped off your face. “It was an off day for me, how many times do we have to go over this?”

“Next time your favorite character dies don’t come online.”

“I knew I should’ve hung out with Taehyun today.” You transition from excitement to insults like it's nothing. These boys definitely make it easy.

“Yeah, whatever. Are you coming to Mingi’s party next week or do you have work.” He says as if the word itself affronted him. New names were constantly thrown at you. You took a break from researching and watching videos because it was just too much. 

“Why are you always so offended by my job? And I’ll see if I can make it.”

It makes it even harder to consume content about these idols when you think of what they go through. From these five alone, you can tell how hungry these idols are to be in this position. They put up with so much and you can’t help thinking their companies take advantage of that.

“You know, you never told me why you weren’t allowed to drive around the day we met.”

An effortless transition is made again as Yeonjun sets aside his teasing. “We have a lot of rules. Like, a lot. It’s no problem, we all knew what we were signing up for pretty much. It feels kinda pointless to go through all that work just to get in trouble, so we hold each other accountable.”

“I’m guessing that’s not counting the hotel food heist?” You bring up with a snort. It feels a little silly to make an exception for food.

“That was a small rule, and we just finished the final concert of a very tiring tour. The day we met I rented a car after a full month of grueling practice hours with little to no sleep. We were hysterical. So we took a ride.”

The boys seem alright. They’re full of life most days and with no context, you would have no idea what they’re going through. He informs you that this party is another one of those exceptions. There are secret parties thrown constantly but it was reckless to go without thorough planning. You like the thought of them getting a proper break and they really want you to come, so you do what you never do: call in fake sick to work.

But not before attempting a little research. Perhaps a different approach would help. You’re picking at scraps since you only have one internet friend who likes kpop. What if they never heard of him?

___: Y’all who is Mingi

You sent out the tweet before you went to sleep. You had just gotten your ass handed to you on Valorant so you didn’t feel like being let down that same night. You woke up to more notifications you’ve seen on all your social media accounts combined.

mingitzsong: you mean our lightskin king Malik???

That was not the tweet you expected from your friend, not by a long shot. Nor were you expecting the “my moot has a hit tweet!” DM.

Your notifications were flooded with fancams, edits, pictures– is that a video of him grabbing his…?

It was too early and you had gone too long without being satisfied by another person so this was all going to your head. You couldn’t tell if you were a stan now or just horny. You wanted him on your wall… or inside you. 

So maybe that was the real reason you were okay with lying to your boss, but it was much more touching to say it was to please your friends. 

-🖊️⇝

You enter the function excited to see the guys. Mingi too, but you were trying to seem less eager about that. You find the two youngest members first talking to a group of unfamiliar people. You try to sneak past, intending to say hi when there weren’t people to be introduced to. But alas, they saw you and you met a few idols their age. Then you run into Soobin coming out of the bathroom. “You made it!” His excited smile was ten times cuter when he was tipsy. He pulls you into a big tight hug and it’s so unlike him. He seemed to have an aversion to touching anyone when it wasn’t necessary. Drunk Soobin was unbearably adorable and it took everything in you to not stay with him and pinch his cheeks. But you needed to find the other members.

The club Mingi rented out is not ideal for finding friends. There are two floors and this is your third time walking down the stairs. You haven’t even seen the host himself yet. With his height, it shouldn’t be easy to miss him. As you walk past the large dance floor you become privy to the reason you haven’t found them. Your head naturally lowers, your eyes automatically avoiding the dancing bodies. It wasn’t your fault, your tendency to avoid large groups of people is written deep inside your DNA. It was time to stop beating around the bush, so you enter the group of dancing bodies. 

It felt like miles of grazing people despite trying your best to shrink into yourself. In the heart of the group were the three you were looking for. They were lost in the music and possibly a bit drunk. Yeonjun casts a glance to see who was approaching before wordlessly holding out his hand. You accept with exaggerated confidence, fake it ‘til you make it. It was easier than you thought to dance smack dab in the middle of the dance floor. Your focus had been locked on the tall man before you, your body on autopilot as it sways to the music. He guides you closer by your hand with undoubtedly genuine confidence sewn into his smirk. You find yourself naturally smiling, unable to shake the shyness that overcomes you. He was doing it again, but this time you took the bait and let yourself be reeled up to shore. Forced out of your comfort zone, but you couldn’t find it in you to complain.

“Who is that?” You hear a deep masculine voice say to your left. Your eyes stay glued to Yeonjun like you’re physically unable to look away, and you swear he’s having the same problem. But you eventually do. Mingi is still looking at Beomgyu until he answers, only then does he grace you with eye contact. The wind is pulled from your lungs as you gasp. You were too distracted by Yeonjun to fully bask in his glory.

“Well. Here he is in person.” Yeonjun fails to pull your attention away even when he rests his hand on your shoulder. “This is ___.”

Mingi makes a sound of understanding, nodding as he not so subtly rakes his eyes up and down your body. It takes everything in you not to shiver. He repeats your name with a small smile that makes your heart skip rope. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly before rising with his cheeks squinting his eyes. “I’m a rapper, my group is called ATEEZ.” 

I know, you’re tempted to say. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You bow back, restraining the locs that fall over your eyes. 

“You’re… very beautiful.” His eyes fall again, taking their time coming back to your face before flashing a seductive smirk. You bite your lip, acute amounts of shame stirring with the arousal in your belly as the tension thickens in such a public space.

The members of TXT are long forgotten as you’re sat at the bar with the handsome Mingi. You talk for hours, though it’s mostly flirting and subtle invitations. As much as you can communicate with your limited Korean. You’re glad it’s gotten good enough that you can understand what he tells you next. According to Mingi, there are no restrictions in his company when it comes to doing… it. If they’re of age, they can do whoever they want to their heart’s content. As long as they’re not reckless. TXT has to plan in advance for your visits and they have three emergency escape or hide strategies just in case. That’s just for being seen with you.

There’s heat brewing between your legs. You’d be a huge liar if you said being around handsome men that you couldn’t think about touching wasn’t slightly torturous. Not even a little tipsy quicky you could pretend didn’t happen. No kissing. Hugging was even a stretch. Even if there’s a fuckload of chemistry, gotta ignore it. But this man, the same one you’ve been fantasizing about, can touch you in ways that has heat traveling throughout your entire body.

“What do you think?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrows. You agree in a way you hope doesn’t seem desperate, but in the end who cares? Not you when he leans closer, taking a moment to take in a quick breath before closing the distance. Butterflies swirl and thrash in your stomach as excitement takes over. It’s your fault the kiss escalates but you still can’t care about shame when your dreams are coming true. 

His tongue feels like heaven against yours, sinfully wet to the point where you can’t help thinking of it somewhere else. He inhales deeply through his nose and you can feel the ensuing groan in your spine.

A frantic voice pulls the two of you apart, someone talking about an emergency. He and Mingi share an exchange before Mingi looks back at you. He sighs disappointedly. “Ah, I’m sorry. Maybe next time.” He winks before being whisked away, vanishing like he did every morning when your sweet dreams slip between your fingers.

You and Yeonjun don’t see each other for the rest of the party, you stay at the bar to sulk. Yeonjun was buzzing after the brief dance you shared. Your hand was so soft, and the way you looked at him… he’d never seen that from you before. If no one had taken your attention he doesn’t know what might’ve happened. He shakes the thought away as if it were a physical intrusion. 

When you kept asking about Mingi before the party, Yeonjun thought nothing of it. You were basically clueless about the industry and he was happy to fill you in. But the way you looked at him, sure it wasn’t as loaded or intimate (or unprovocative) but you looked starstruck. It would sting a little if you didn’t become a fan from their music but from someone else’s.

Yeonjun’s body had become entirely tense, unable to dance in a carefree way after you took over his mind. There was a whole lot of conflict going on in his brain but not a lot of solutions. What does it matter? It’s not like you’re gonna stop being friends with them. You’ve given their home life a level of excitement and joy that it hasn’t reached before, and they didn’t have to train for months to receive it. All Yeonjun had to do was kick back, look over with a smile to see that you’re smiling back. 

The next time you see each other is outside the club next to their van. “Hey, you disappeared.” Yeonjun shoves his hands in his pockets before nudging you with his elbow. You glance up at him, but it’s like your neck’s made of rubber. Drunk like him, but way worse at concealing it. Soobin explains that he found you by the bar and decided to help get you home. 

In the backseat between Yeonjun and Taehyun, you’re restless. You keep whining and fidgeting until Taehyun asks you what’s wrong. “I’m just frustrated.”

Confused by this progression, Yeonjun turns toward you with a curious frown. “Did something happen with Mingi?”

“He had to leave.” You whimper before letting your head fall on Yeonjun’s shoulder. When you lift your face to look at him you’re way too close for it not to be a problem. He’s hesitant, but Yeonjun allows his face to linger in this dangerous proximity. “I’m still a little worked up.” Your eyes flit down to his lips and he gasps lightly. He casts a quick glance at his members. Taehyun was looking down into his lap, brows tight. The other members seem to be minding their own business. Getting the idea before he even looks back at you, Yeonjun’s heart flips.

When he turns his head again you scoot closer. The lights of the city whiz past, shadows obscuring your features before painting them in vibrant hues. Each aspect of your face that he tried not to think about lay before him in a way so breathtaking he can’t think straight. He usually stops himself by now out of fear that he’ll become obsessed with you. Then he feels the tip of your nose brush against his, signaling how close he is to breaching an important rule. Just then, the van passes through a tunnel, cloaking the entire vehicle in a dimmer light. His heart stills, time stills as the drowsy look wipes off your face. You pull back a bit to flash him a genuine look. As if you’re also considering this.

Yeonjun is closing in just as the van leaves the tunnel, moving fast but not fast enough.

“Hey, break it up!” A bright light is flashed in both your faces. Yeonjun squints and blocks the light, unable to pull away from you because it feels like snuffing out this flame will leave him stranded in the tundra. But Soobin sounded frantic, and he’d hate to stress out his friend and leader. So he pulls away and he’s right. It’s frigid and cold.

“What happened?” Kai sits up from his chair and glances at Soobin before peering at the back seat.

Soobin sighs, clearly hesitant to report this. “He almost kissed her.”

Their reactions vary from shocked to worried to a little frustrated. “That’s like… the biggest thing, hyung.” Soobin pleads for Yeonjun’s understanding with his eyes. Yeonjun nips at his top lip, unable to curb his embarrassment and disappointment. “I know, I know.” He sends a hand through his hair frustratedly.

You sit stiffly between the two men as Taehyun gears up to say something. All this for a kiss? One you were admittedly excited for. Still, you don’t have it in you to get angry at them. Like Yeonjun said. They worked hard for this. It’s silly to risk it all over a kiss. Even if that label makes your heart sink.

“You guys know I won’t say anything. I’m already risking getting fired over driving you here.” The driver pipes up as he casts a quick glance at the rearview mirror. 

“It’s not about that, we can’t slip up.” Taehyun finally speaks, eyes cutting at Yeonjun. “At all.”

“I said I know.” Yeonjun speaks with more conviction that raises the tension considerably. Everyone else in the car can feel it. You send nervous glances to the other three who seem to be doing the same. “It’s fine! We’ve all been drinking, so.” Kai tries, his nervous smile flickering out when he looks back. Taehyun has his jaw clenched as he stares out the window and Yeonjun is clearly pissed off.

“Exactly, let’s just drop it. Nothing happened anyway.” Soobin adds authoritatively, looking back at the two who don’t return his glance.

Everyone does as much, leaving the car unbearably quiet. When you arrive at your apartment you say quiet goodbyes to everyone including Jun who gives you a cautious and almost apologetic look. “I’ll come with you.” Soobin grunts as he stands from his seat. 

Yeonjun watches helplessly as you both exit the car and Soobin walks you to the door. He would’ve offered before the car even stopped. But this isn’t only about him. A scandal could harm the entire group.

-🖊️⇝

Five months. You haven’t been laid in five months. Then here comes this 6ft-something man with puppy dog tendencies who turns on the sex appeal like it’s nothing, stirring up your emotions to this degree. 

You tie half of your locs up before tugging two down to frame your face. You bite your lip as you take in your appearance, a little shocked at how good everything came out. “What do you think? Should I add anything else?”

Things have been a little stiffer between you and Yeonjun. You still hang out but you both can feel it looming. The chemistry. The tension. The threat of jumping each other’s bones at a moment’s notice. Yeonjun doesn’t want to drag his members down because of a rash decision. He’s not sure what’s going through your mind but he can see the conflict in your eyes.

Yeonjun considers helping you. Immediately he’d recommend a choker. It’s hard for him to quell the thoughts about how good your neck looks with a piece of fabric wrapped tightly around it. Then he would suggest going for gloss instead of lipstick, but perhaps he should stop thinking about your neck and lips while he’s ahead. Also, this is all to help Mingi. Valentine’s day has passed, but it’s a miracle if an idol is free then anyway. This is essentially their valentine’s day plans, it’s a thought that presents a lingering bitter taste in his mouth. But he knows better, so he keeps those thoughts to himself.

“Yeah, it looks good like that.” He says as plainly as he can. Like a friend should.

You turn in your chair and rest your arm on the back. He looks really tired today. You can tell it’s one of those weeks that are really beating down on him. This is the most severe you’ve seen it get with your own eyes.

“You’re usually good at helping me with my looks.” It’s true that you’re cautious as well, but if he could have one moment to not be worried about one hundred things at once, you really want it to be with you. 

“You did pretty well on your own.” His shrug does nothing to shield how disingenuous he’s being. You give him a knowing look, deciding to probe just a little. 

“You know you can take a nap on my bed while I’m gone.”

“I’m good.” He assures with a smile meant to be soft but ends up strained. “Text me if you need anything or if something goes wrong.”

No, no. That’s the last thing you need. Him needing to have his guard up around you and still being so courteous. “I have other friends that I can text. You go play video games or relax or something.”

“Oh yeah? Name someone that isn’t an idol, quickly.” His tense demeanor melts just for a second, just to poke back. You give a short, dry laugh. Knowing very well you didn’t have an answer. Non-idol friends would do you some good. You think for a moment before replying half-jokingly.

“How about I call your leader instead and tell him to come take you home.”

Yeonjun stands from the bed, walking over with a look that you recognize by now. He’s thinking about it again. Kissing you or touching you. “I wanna be here when you get back.” He’s not sure why. You’re not gonna be drinking and Mingi is a gentleman, he’ll make sure you get home safe. 

You’re acutely aware you must be looking at him the same way, which means you’re both in danger of breaking the biggest rule. He’s tired and probably unbelievably frustrated. And he wants it so bad. You can practically smell the arousal when you two get like this. Hell, you want it too. Sleeping with someone who’s been stifled for years and is finally able to let loose? The sex would be unforgettable. The thought permeates in your mind, strong enough to overshadow your habit of pushing all this to the wayside. You stand from the chair.

“Why? I’ll be alright.” You blink, unaware of how cute you look peering through your lashes. Despite his notes, you did do a great job. Fuck a choker or lip gloss, if you showed up to a date looking like this, he’d lose all ability to function.

“You look so beautiful.” He breathes out, but how genuine he is shines through. This was more intimate than the dance or the almost kiss. HIs eyes have a slight sheen as they gaze down at you earnestly.

“That means a lot, Jun. Thank you.”

Yeonjun, instead of responding, takes your shirt strap that had fallen down your shoulder in between his fingers. He slowly moves it back up, hand brushing lightly against your soft skin. You’re cold to the touch, your body being chilled by your air conditioner. How long would it be until you were properly warmed up? Too long.

“I don’t think I can handle you looking like this for someone else.” The words roll off his tongue, feeling as though someone else had said them. He looks over at your eyes from your strap, the touched shock on your face confirming that it was real. It happens quickly, the rationalization. You shut up the part of your brain urging you to run away from the conflict and tug Yeonjun closer by his shirt. His hands move to your face and the two of you linger there, either giving this a second thought or wondering if this was really happening. You lean in, feeling his breath fanning only to jerk back suddenly. Your lips brush against each other first before they finally meld, finally connecting in the way you both truly craved.

He’s so expressive, you can feel the longing, hear the pent up frustration leaving him with every heavy sigh. You chase each other’s lips instantly after each disconnect as if the kiss is providing oxygen rather than inhibiting it. There was that heat again, warming his frigid body as you wrap your arms around him and urge him closer. 

He pulls away, the impish fox you know well looking so unfamiliar. His eyes pleading and blown out, his pretty lips pink and swollen. You impatiently pull him back in and you feel the same warmth he is. Except it’s burning you up. Both of you feel like you’re being swallowed by a large flame as your tongues circle each other. He lets out a wanton moan that has your core clenching. “Taste so good.” His voice is nearly inaudible, murmured between kisses.

Pushing your straps down your arms, he undoes his recent action. He pushes your dress over your breasts but he’s too consumed by the kiss to look down. His hands envelope the flesh held by your bra as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Things are escalating quickly but you grow frustrated that he isn’t inside you already. You’ve both waited long enough.

“Fuck me, please.” You beg, eyebrows slanting as you let your pride go for just a moment. You reach down and tug at the waistband of his sweats, feeling a little justified as he returns your desperation with his eyes. With his hands kneading your breasts and your fingers clenching his pants you stare into each other’s eyes. No words exchanged but you each understand loud and clear that you need each other. Bad. As his face draws closer you try again. “Fuck me.” You whisper as he nuzzles your nose. 

You’re begging for it but Yeonjun can’t decide how he wants you first. He shuts his eyes and imagines your body bent in half, your as lifted into the air. Presented just for him. His cock throb and he squeezes your breast. Your ensuing moan almost pushes him to throw you onto the bed. But then he imagines the moonlight bleeding through the curtains and painting your body. The lights of the cars that speed past illuminating your umber tinted nipples that perk up nice and hardened for him.

The fantasy draws more and more saliva onto his tongue that rolls off onto yours. Your tongues tangle in a horny mess. If anyone saw what the two of you were doing they’d probably be confused, but both of your faces are scorching and the spaces between your legs are throbbing. Yeonjun is on his tenth fantasy on how he wants to pose you when he starts whimpering. You grab his crotch and return the squeeze he’s been giving your breasts. He finally unlatches from your lips to toss his head back, letting out the loudest moan of the evening. You kiss down his throat, feeling the vibrations of his pretty sounds. It’s taking every atom inside your body to not bite and suck, instead you ghost your teeth over his supple skin. 

As his moans transition to groans and growls his actions become more rough. He grabs your wrist to keep your hand steady as he grinds into it. His nails pierce your breast and it’s your turn to whimper. He yanks your hand off of him and moves his own to your waist, finally guiding you over to the bed. In every fleeting fantasy he had there was one thing either missing or integral. The very look on your face you have now as he’s moving over you. Your dark eyes are so doe-like yet so sinful. They yearn for him, yet dare him. 

The taking off of your clothes is agonizingly slow. It doesn’t matter that you’re both rushing to the point that you almost rip each other’s shirts. It’s still torturous. His long cock bobs as he repositions himself, a drop of precum dribbling from his tip and shining in the light. His nails dig into you yet again as your legs are hoisted on either side of your head. Every time he grips so forcefully you wish he’d do it harder, squeeze you until you fuse together.

You get as close as you can to that wish when his tip cards between your lips. You jolt, surprised by your own sensitivity. Yes, it’s been a long time, but it’s not that. Your clit and lips are so swollen that they ache. You feel like your molten juice will pour out of you at any moment. You hold your legs in place as Yeonjun lowers onto his forearms, bringing his face closer to yours. You’ve already stuck your tongue down his throat and gripped his cock, but there’s something strangely intimate about his bangs brushing against your forehead. He watches you intently as he slowly pushes in. You gasp, as if the heat radiating off his cock is actually singing you as he slides in. 

Yeonjun releases his lip from his teeth as a deep groan forces its way out from the depths of his core. Your pussy swallows him whole, so devastatingly wet that it coats your outer lips and coaxes him in with ease. The urge to crack a window, shove the comforter and sheets off the bed, anything to quell the overwhelming heat is a fleeting thought for the both of you. It’s quickly replaced by the gnawing need to feel every part of each other. To get deep. Yeonjun arches his back and pushes his hips in until you’re yelping and your hips buck uncontrollably.

Then something snaps and a rhythm takes over Yeonjun’s body. His hips snap toward yours at the perfect pace that has you clawing down his back. You feel his skin under your fingernails. 

Your hips desperately chase after him, fingers fumbling over your achy clit. It’s a blurred frenzy that neither of you can completely process as real. Your brains are turned off anyway, blindly chasing pleasure and that orgasm so sweet your teeth go numb at the thought.

The height of the pleasure makes each pump of his cock maddening. It’s so good you both almost want it to stop. The pleasure spikes higher, making your moans peak in pitch. Your grip falters on your thighs as your legs start to quake. 

“I can’t– I can’t!” Your mumbles are nearly incoherent between your shrieky whimpers. A knot squeezes so tight in your lower belly it feels like a large, heavy ball. Yeonjun grits out moans as his eyebrows furrow. The pleading look is so sexy, the desperation in his voice. His fucking cock is inside you. It’s so deep inside you.

“C-cumming!” Your thighs slip from your hands as a violent tremor sweeps through your body. The knot snaps and you feel hot liquid spewing from your cunt. Yeonjun fucks through the pressure, sharp profanities shoot off his tongue. He claws at your thighs and his thrusts transition to slow and punishing. The myriad of noises flooding from your lips don’t lower in intensity. The pleasure barely plateaus and you’re right back in the trenches. 

“Fuck! Yeonjun, fuck!” You squeal. His hand crawls up from between your breasts to your throat. “You’re taking it so well, you’re perfect.” His voice cracks, the sincerity in his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“You’re so, so perfect.” His body drops closer to yours, his voice tickling against your ear. His thrusts pick up with his fractured moans. You can tell just how much is being released as he fucks you. It’s just as magical as you imagined, watching him let loose like this. But the twitch in his brow bothers you. His muscles are tight, his shoulders tense. You let out a serene sigh.

“Let it all out, Junnie.” You run your hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles loosen under your fingers. His eyes flutter shut, mimicking your serene sigh. He doesn’t get to rest for long. The conflict wracking his body this time is different. His cock is twitching inside you.

Your clumsy hands travel all over his shoulders, neck, and land on his face. His hips start to fracture from their rhythm and his face occasionally pinches. You caress him, wanting to bottle up the version of him that’s close to cumming. 

You press a tender, wet kiss to his lips. “Cum inside me.”

It doesn’t occur to you that he has no clue you’re on birth control. So when the most guttural moan erupts from his chest it catches you off guard. His hips grind down against yours, his cock throbbing as it pumps you even fuller. Your sweaty bodies stay like that for a moment, not long enough for your sensitivity to wane. He pulls out, unplugging your hole for all the fluids to flow out.

His cock is heavy against your clit, so heavy that it triggers your sensitivity. You close your legs around him and turn your head into your pillow. He flows you, planting a long kiss on your lips as he grinds his cock into your mound. 

“Jun,” you tap at the mattress, the excruciating pleasure taking you to another planet. 

“I love your pussy.” He finally pulls away and the rigidity of your body eases. You let out a shaky breath, eyeing him as moves down your body. He glances up at you with his mouth hovering over your tired pussy. “It’s mine.” His eyes flutter shut as he kisses your mound wetly. A sharp moan rockets out of you. Your head shoots backward and your thighs threaten to close around him. That was just the teaser.

His tongue delves in to scoop out his and your essence. You’re in awe of the dirtiness of his actions and the lengths he’s willing to push you. All while staring you right in the eyes. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you push at his head.

He hums before lifting away. “You want me to stop?”

“N-no!” You reply instantly, a laugh bubbling out of both of you. It was ridiculous at this point. Yeonjun curls his tongue inside of you until he’s satisfied with how clean he got you. He lifts up, giving only a glimpse of his sullied face before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

He crawls back up and you groan. 

“No, we’re both gross, don't lay back down.”

He grumbles ‘give me an hour’, making you both laugh. It’s comforting, a crackling fire lulling you both to sleep.

You gasp loudly, shooting upright.

“Mingi!”

-🖊️⇝

If only you hadn’t done that. The vibes after the sex were immaculate. Now things are tense again as Yeonjun gets you ready to meet with Mingi. His hands run over your sudsy body, making sure you’re squeaky clean. He helps you with your bra, even helps you pick out a new outfit. When all is said and done, you’re back to looking at each other through the mirror. He sighs.

“Go ahead and text him you’re ready.”

You pull your phone out, finding you’re just flipping it over in your hands instead of unlocking it. You chew on your lip, your heart beating so intensely it’s debilitating. 

“I’m ready.” You rush out, thinking for a moment before turning to actually look at him. Yeonjun breathes a laugh with a smirk.

“I said tell him, not me.”

“Why? You’re my date.” Your smile beams brighter than you mean it to. It’s all fine because he returns its luminosity. 

“I’m down for that. I’m too fatigued to go anywhere, though.”

“I know, I really tuckered you out didn’t I?” You cock an eyebrow at him, doing your best impression of a sly fox you know.

“Okay, but who made who squirt?”

You shove him, making him chuckle as he catches himself. You quickly leave the bedroom, turning to shout back at him. 

“I’m watching the movie without you.”

He chases after you and you just barely evade him to sit on the cough first. He dives next to you, snuggling up close and nuzzling his forehead into yours. It’s something he used to do to annoy you, and though you’re tonguing your cheek, your heart is fluttering. 

You watch the rest of the movie hugging his arm with your head on his shoulder. As the credits roll, is the first to talk in thirty minutes.

“It was always gonna be us.” Yeonjun chuckles. “We both knew it from the moment in your hotel room. Fuck it, I might’ve thought about it when I first saw you.”

You crane your head to look at him, his sharp eyes already on you. There’s a softness to them.

Multiple fists thundering against your door makes you both jump. 

“Open up! Yeonjun has been here for way too long!” Identifying Soobin’s voice dulls the alarm bells blaring in both your heads.

Yeonjun trudges over to let them in, sulking back to the couch as the four younger book it past him. Beomgyu launches himself on the couch and asks what “we’re” watching. Kai is close behind, snatching the remote before Beomgyu could even think to grab it. They argue over that as Soobin sits down, rubbing his temples. He sinks into the couch as you sit beside him. You can feel Yeonjun’s warmth on your left and you bite your lip trying to ignore it. 

“And just what were you doing here all alone?” Soobin’s eyes slowly pan over to the two people sitting suspiciously close to each other. You both shrug, mumbling something about movies and ice cream.

Taehyun sighs, squeezing his ass in between the both of you until you’re forced to part. You just roll your eyes, ignoring it for now. The movie watching experience with these five was always chaotic. Chaotic enough that you and Yeonjun could sneak glances at each other with no one noticing. The noise dissipates as you get lost in each other’s eyes. You both smile.

#poor mingi T___T #txt #yeonjun #smut #kpop #choi yeonjun #yeonjun smut #txt smut #kpop smut #choi yeonjun smut #txt yeonjun smut

[oneawkwardwriter]

Make Belief

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader warnings/tags: fake dating trope, Steve saving reader from an idiot (Billy) confusing thoughts and feelings summary: Steve pretends to be your boyfriend to get you out of a nasty situation, but now you have to keep up the charade a/n: I wrote this before I was even on tumblr, thought I'd post it since I've been sucked back into my Steve Harrington obsession wc: 3.4k

It was a day like any other at Hawkins High. You stood in front of your locker, putting away some books you didn’t want to take home until you heard a cough coming from someone behind you.

As you turned around, you saw Billy Hargrove standing there with a smug look on his face. Billy was known to be a bully, and to be even associated with him made your stomach turn. He looked up and down while licking his lips, and you would give almost anything to slap that smirk off his face.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” You asked, wanting this to be over with as quick as possible.

“Come, come, not so hostile, sweetie. I just wanted to know what you were doing this evening,” He answered, talking down to you as if you were a child.

Before you could turn down his advances, a hand slithered around your waist and someone placed their head on your shoulder. You turned your head to see your best friend, Steve Harrington, looking at Billy with a hateful glare.

“Is he bothering you, darling?” He asked, posing as if he were your overprotective boyfriend, a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just about to tell our friend here that I sadly am not free this evening,” You played along, giving him a loving smile that doubled as a silent thank you.

“No fucking way,” Billy began, “King Steve finally got Little Miss Perfect to go on a date with him. I wonder what made our lovely princess here fold.”

“Well, Billy, you might not know this,” You said back, “but Steve and I have been dating for quite some time now.”

“That’s right,” Steve continued, “Today is our two-month anniversary, isn’t that right, babe?”

“Sure is, darling.”

Billy leaned against the lockers on the other side of the hallway, before saying, “Well, well, well, isn’t that just great? Just out of curiosity, what are you planning on doing for this special occasion?”

“Oh, nothing special, just watching a movie at the theatre and whatnot,” Steve said, before walking away and gently pulling you with him, not looking back until you turned around the corner.

After doing so, he let go and looked you in the eyes with a big smile. As if it were contagious, you felt a smile creep up as well, and you hugged the boy as a sign of gratitude.

“Thank you, Steve. I don’t think Billy will bother me for some time now,” You said, smiling up at him.

“Well, if you’re ever in dying need of a fake boyfriend,” Steve began teasingly, “you know where to find me.”

“Same goes for you, of course, if you ever get tired of constantly being asked out by beautiful, brainless girls.” You turned on your heels and walked off.

“I’ll hold you onto that offer.” Steve called after you before he walked away towards the exit of the building. But all of a sudden, he was cornered by Billy, who didn’t look pleased about the fact that his next conquest was already taken by another guy. 

“What a pleasure seeing you again, Billy,” Steve said in that sarcastic tone people knew all too well.

“I don’t believe for a second that you are dating, she’s far too precious for you,” Billy responded, staring him up and down.

“Pretty sure that’s not up you to decide," Steve deadpanned, "But anyway, what do you want?”

“I don’t like being lied to, Harrington. But if you two are serious about this, you won’t mind if Heather and I join you two, now do you?”

Steve thought for a moment. If he said that he did in fact mind, his cover, and more importantly, yours, would be blown.

On the other hand, if he answered that it wouldn’t be a problem, he would have to spend a night at the movie theatre with Billy. Sure, you’d be there, but who knew what could happen.

He took a deep breath, and gritted through his teeth, “Sure, why not, it’ll be fun.”

Billy smirked as if he’d won the lottery and let go of Steve. “Great, see ya at the movies, Harrington.” And then he walked off, leaving Steve in the hallway.

Steve got home not late after that, where he called you up, trying to find the words to tell her that they weren’t rid of Billy just yet. You picked up after the third ring, sounding just as cheery as ever.

“Hi, Steve, what’s up?” You asked, but before he could answer, you added, “Before I forget, I wanted to thank you again, I can’t imagine what I would’ve said to Billy if you didn’t come to rescue me, although I reckon it wouldn’t be filled with praising words.”

Steve chuckled, picturing you going off on Billy, ending with both of them walking away with at least a bruised lip. 

“Yeah, about that, I ran into Billy on my way out, and… well, let’s just say we’re not completely done with him yet,” Steve said, running his hand through his curls as he leaned against the wall, his other hand still around the phone.

“There is something you’re not telling me, so spit it out before I tell Robin that you use Farah Fawcett's hairspray.”

“Alright, alright, there’s no need to be dramatic. Billy cornered me and said that if we were dating, we wouldn’t mind him and Heather joining us at the movies. I’m so sorry, but I had no choice but to say yes.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. He was right, it would’ve been suspicious if you didn’t go through with your plans, but that didn’t make the thought of having to sit through a two-hour movie with Billy any less unbearable.

“It’s okay, as much as I hate having to be in the same room as him, it is what it is," You sighed, "The least we can do is make it as pleasant as we can for both of us and try to forget about them as much as possible. We can manage that, right?”

“We’ll try our hardest,” Steve answered, a small smile creeping its way on his face. “I’ll pick you up at seven, alright?”

“Sounds perfect, until then.”

“Yeah, until then.”

There was a brief silence, both not knowing if there was something else to be said, so they hung up on each other, still not sure what they were getting themselves into this time.

Seven o'clock rolled around, and you came down the stairs in a blue button-up dress and black sneakers, a small clutch in hand. 

Your mother sat on the sofa and saw her daughter from the corner of her eyes, making her head turn. 

“Oh honey, you look lovely, what’s the occasion?” She asked, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while gracing her face. 

“Steve and I are going to the movies, nothing out of the ordinary,” You answered, shooting your mom a quick smile.

“Except that you’re all dressed up, and is that make-up?” Your mom crossed her arms, not believing that it was just another movie night.

“Can’t I just look nice?” You asked, and just as your mom wanted to comment, a car horn honked, making you bid your mom goodbye and walk out the door.

Steve stood outside, leaning against his car wearing a buttoned-down white shirt and dark grey slacks, his usually wild hair slicked back, one strand having a will of its own and curling in front of his forehead.

“Sorry, my mom kept asking all sorts of idiotic questions,” You said as you walked down the front lane. 

“No problem, I made sure to be here on time so we don’t need to hurry,” Steve reassured, a wide smile plastered over his face. “You look nice, by the way, it’s a good ‘two-month anniversary’ look.”

“Thank you," You said as you look him up and down. "You as well, good choice.”

Steve walked to the door of the passenger seat and opened it for you, jokingly bowing down and gesturing his hand for you to step into the vehicle. You shook your head, silently laughing at the gesture. Steve climbed into the car as well before driving towards the theatre.

Although you both dreaded seeing Billy again, having to keep up the facade of you being a couple was easier than you'd expected. Somehow, it was just the same as being best friends, only with longing stares, and even those turned out to have a familiar touch to them.

Sure, having Billy practically breathing down your neck wasn’t what either of you enjoyed, but the movie turned out pretty great, and with the Steve next to you, the burden of being in the same room as Billy was less heavy on your shoulders.

However, that moment of bliss and contentment was blown away as soon as the movie ended, and Billy started talking to the two of you again. 

“Well, was the movie worth it for your two-month anniversary?” Billy faked his enthusiasm, still very much not convinced that you were telling the truth.

“Oh, absolutely, it was wonderful. Wasn’t it, honey?” You answered, trying to pull off your most genuine smile while standing so close to Steve you could be glued together.

“It truly was. Happy two-month anniversary, sweetheart,” Steve added.

But upon seeing the look of scepticism on Billy’s face, a sudden thought emerged in his brain. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, Steve planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

A seemingly harmless action, one that wouldn’t be an issue for someone who was on a date with the person they had spent the last two months infatuated by, but to the two of you, who hadn’t been anything but friends for the majority of their lives, this single act brought forth a plethora of emotions and feelings, ones of which they weren’t sure if they should be acknowledged or even be there to begin with.

Against your best efforts, blood rushed into your cheeks, colouring them a bright scarlet. You tried to play it off as a part of your scheme, but there was a fine line between make belief and developing true affection, and the longer youthought about it, the more that line turned into a blur.

Whatever it was, it threw off Billy for a hot second. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t as stupid as some would make him out to be. He knew that it was just a ruse to get him to stop asking you out and going to the movies with them was just a way of getting under your skin.

Still, seeing your reaction to Steve's kiss, albeit not lasting longer than a moment or two, was something different than what he had seen before between the two of you. But he soon returned to his senses again and to his usual self.

“Well, it’s getting late. How about we go home, Heather?” He asked his date, who was more than willing to oblige. “I guess this is where we say goodbye. Have a fun anniversary, but not too much fun.” He winked before walking off with Heather on his arm, and when he was out of earshot, both of you let out a deep breath.

“That was probably one of the worst yet most enjoyable dates I’ve ever been on,” Steve admitted, shaking his head in disbelief at the irony.

“Too bad it wasn’t a real date then, huh?” You said rather absent-mindedly, not realising the words that came out before they were already spoken.

Once you did, you didn’t know if they were true. Had it been a date, or was it all a ruse to get Billy off your back? And when Steve had kissed you, albeit such a simple gesture, you had blushed like a school girl whose crush just talked to her; it had almost driven you over the edge, had you not controlled yourself.

Steve rested his hand on the nape of his neck and tilted his head a bit to the left, before saying, “Yeah, you’re right, that would’ve been one hell of a date if it were real… anyway, I should probably drive you home, it’s already dark outside.”

The car ride was silent until Steve saw an all too familiar car in his rearview mirror. 

“Shit, Billy’s following us,” He said, not louder than a whisper as if he was afraid that Billy could hear that you'd seen him. 

“Okay, it’s not a big deal, just drop me off at my house and all is well,” You suggested, not sure why Steve made it out to be worse than it was.

“And let him know we aren’t as serious as we claimed to be? No, that’s not going to happen, he won’t win.” There was a strange air about him, one you hadn't seen much of before.

“Steve, I don’t know what you’re on about, what on Earth will he gain if you just drop me off at home?”

“The satisfaction that we lied, the knowledge that if he were to push just long enough, he’ll convince you to go on a date with him," There was a hint of something you couldn't entirely place. It couldn't be jealousy, right? "Don’t you see, he wants this solely because he can’t have the one thing I pride myself on?”

“And what might that be?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“A relationship, of any kind, with you. He’s jealous, that you’ll be around me despite my shortcomings, but won’t do the same for him.”

You sighed, and responded, “Somehow, I don’t know how or why, but that, sort of, makes sense. Well then, what do you propose?”

“Just trust me, okay?” He looked into your eyes, a silent plead to just follow along, until you said: “Look at the road, you idiot. And yes, of course, I’ll trust you, unless you have a really stupid plan.”

“Well, it’s something, I can tell you that.”

You pulled up at Steve’s house, still being tailed by Billy, who was about 500 metres behind them to come off as casual. You got out of the car and into the house, where you flopped down onto the sofa.

Through the curtains, you could see the headlights of Billy’s car. But instead of just passing by, the lights went off, suggesting the car had stopped. You and Steve exchanged a look of confusion, although both of you knew why he hadn’t just driven by the house as if it were a mere coincidence.

“Well, that's gonna be a problem,” You commented, crossing your arms. “So what do we do now? I don’t think he’s going away any time soon, it’s not like he has a life to return to.”

Just as you were about to propose you’d call off the whole plan and just confront Billy -surely you could handle him- Steve jumped up and dragged you onto your feet.

“That’s it, of course!” He exclaimed, holding both of your hands as new smile scattered across his lips.

“What is it?” You asked, genuinely confused as to what Steve was talking about.

“Billy might not have a life, but we do, so why would we care about him when we can just go about our merry way and do whatever we want?” Steve explained, his eyes lighting up with every word.

“And with that showing him that he is the least of our concerns,” You continued, starting to get a sense of his idea. “You know, you can be really smart. Sometimes, that is.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, things just sometimes fall right into place up there,” He responded, faintly pointing to his head.

You made your way upstairs, towards Steve’s bedroom, where he opened the window and climbed through it to land on the garage's roof.

It was a sort of tradition you had set in stone over the years, where whenever the situation seemed grim, you'd sit on the roof, whether that was on top of Steve’s garage or your bike shed, and simply look up to gaze at the stars.

No matter the circumstances, you had always found some peace and serenity in the stars gracing the midnight skies, looking down on the world lightyears away. Over the last couple of years, when hell seemed to break loose more than ever, it became their metaphorical fortress of solitude, where there were no troubles or problems, but just the cold air on their faces as they would sit in the dim light of the moon.

And so you wound up on the roof once again, with your backs against the cold brick wall as you admired the stars and felt your worries slip away into a moment of time.

You averted your eyes from the sky and looked at Steve, who must’ve read your mind as he had already done the same, softly smiling at your.

“You know, you were right,” You started, “Who cares about what Billy thinks we are; we are the ones who decide what is and what isn’t true when it comes to our lives.”

“Yeah, but we also shouldn’t be living in a lie,” Steve mumbled, shifting his gaze to his hands.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You say that it is up to us to decide what is real and with isn’t, but at the same time we’re trying to convince a douchebag that we are something everyone knows we’re not.” Steve slowly looked up, with a glimmer of a feeling previously unknown to you. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“Are you insinuating that we’d rather lie than confront our true intentions?” You remarked, looking Steve in the eyes, “Because if that’s the case, I’ll be perfectly honest with you. The truth is, I found it surprisingly easy to pose as your girlfriend, to act as if I was in love with you. And that scared me, a lot.”

Steve’s eyes dilated slightly upon hearing those words, but you weren't done talking yet.

“You’re my best friend, and even though I’d support you without hesitation, I always told myself that I would never end up catching myself falling for you. I would not be one of those girls you’d date for a short time and then be tossed aside." You let your head hang for a moment and sigh. "What I’m trying to say is, is that I was so occupied trying not to fall that I didn’t realise that I had already hit the ground.”

At this point, Steve’s eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth was slightly agape, making you regret opening up him. You had already stood up to walk over to the open window when a hand held onto yours, entangling their fingers.

It all happened too fast to wrap his mind around. From the second you had opened up to where Steve quite forcibly turned you around to look into your eyes, staring into them so intensely, as if not even the end of the world would be able to separate you.

The rest of the world turned into a blur, a haze surrounding you, as if a simple action enforced a shield, preventing any troubles from the outside from breaking you apart.

Eventually, after what felt like a blissful eternity but in reality, couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds, your lips parted, leaving you standing on the roof, being able to feel each other’s breath with how close you stood together, staring into each other’s eyes with your mouths agape, trying to fathom the reality of what had just happened.

Incoherent thoughts were running through your heads, not able to process a single thing other than knowing that there was undoubtedly no way back from this. And how terrifying that might sound, neither of you could care less.

Steve was the first one to speak up, although it was more like a whisper. “I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do, but god, it felt too right to be wrong,” He breathed, causing you to agree with a soft affirming hum and rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart beating as if it were about to explode.

After standing like that for at least a few minutes, you moved back inside, never taking your eyes off each other. As soon as you hit the bedroom floor, your lips found their way back to the other.

Whereas the first kiss was a tender one, the one that followed held enough power to light up an entire city. You were soon pressed up against the wall, your hands traveling from Steve’s shoulders towards his hair, threading your fingers through his curls, melting into the kiss.

His hands roamed your body, as he fought against his lustful impulses. Had it been any other girl, he admitted that he wouldn’t have given it a second thought and let his intentions take over, but you were different; you were better, far beyond anyone else and deserving of nothing less than utter perfection. For that reason, he reluctantly pulled away, leaving a ghost of your lips on his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He muttered, trying to catch his breath as he still stood mere inches away from you. He looked up at you and saw the baffled look on your face, making him regret his poor choice of words. “No, that wasn’t- that wasn’t what I meant… Look, I’m just gonna… start over, you know… rewind.” Steve took a deep breath. “What I meant to say, was that I want to do this the proper way. So that means you walking down the stairs in a cute dress, and me picking you up at seven to take you on a date… a real one, this time.” 

You smiled- no, laughed, you flat out chuckled. When Steve looked confused, you told him, “Sorry, I just realised something hilarious.”

“What? Please, enlighten me,” He questioned with a soft smile.

“This entire time we’ve been trying to convince people that we were together.” Steve still looked at her with questioning eyes. “Guess we're not playing make belief anymore, are we?”

© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak (to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)

#writeblr #writing prompts #divider by saradika #x reader fics #oneawkwardwriter fics #fanfic writing #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #friends to lovers #fake dating #stranger things fic #stranger things

[wc-confessions]

re: WC misogyny

This is solely to get my thoughts out abt this bc I’m probably not gonna be able to articulate this to the best of my ability but I feel like it’s incredibly important to say that these books are pretty damn misogynistic and so was the fanbase for the longest time.

Not saying that to be "throwing the word around without knowing what the word means", because misogyny is defined as a dislike/contempt against women. This can also absolutely be an unconscious bias (which is primarily what I see anyway!) I've seen far more people dismiss these characters while holding up male ones that do similar/worse things (i.e. Thistleclaw primarily but a lot of the MV characters to an extent)

The reason why discussion about sexism usually ends up against cats like Mapleshade, Squirrelflight, Frecklewish, and Nightcloud is primarily due to how the universe of the books is written to chastise these characters while their male counterparts go thru barely half of the shit thrown onto the girls.

Mapleshade gets her kids and herself exiled for breaking the code while Appledusk literally gets a slap on the wrist for breaking the same code she did? The Riverclan leader just tells him "well, you'll not do it again so you don't need to be punished" while Mapleshade doesn't even get to bury her kits. Even if she's the Warrior Cats evil woman that's still really fucked up!? And this goes to Frecklewish as well, who does not watch them drown oh my god. The flood that kills Maple's kits is incredibly loud--saying Freckle would have been able to do anything else OTHER than watch dismisses the fact going to the flooded stones was an idea doomed to fail (of which Mapleshade has a lot of in MV specifically.)

Frecklewish absolutely ended up in the Dark Forest over Oakstar or Ravenwing (who both condemned the kittens to their fate instead of?? idk punishing Maple and not the kits who didn't even know they were half clan?) because of the way the fandom perceived her at the time. Freckle's a lot like Squirrelflight where fandom opinion only recently shifted to people defending those characters--she's pretty awful for calling the same kits she doted on half-clan creatures! But I don't think she deserved to go to cat hell forever when the cat who actually caused those kittens to end up dead (and every other cat in MV!) ends up in Starclan without even so much of a trial.

Speaking of trials--Squirrelflight and Leafpool literally end up almost being sent to CAT HELL for following Starclan's orders. Leafpool ends up having forbidden kits but Starclan goes "it's okay!" until it isn't. Brambleclaw almost being involved in Firestar's fox trap murder never gets mentioned or brought up while both of the girls are questioned about if they even belong in Starclan because they "broke the code and lied"?? There's a pretty damn big bias towards the toms for doing bad/worse actions but Bramble never went to Starclan and had his ticket for heaven almost revoked. Oakstar didn't get put in the Dark Forest because he exiled 3 innocent kits.

I think it's important to note the fandom has a lot of say over how characters like these get interpreted (which is why Nightcloud ended up being hated a lot despite the fact Crowfeather is just. actually abusive to Breezepelt.) That's why I brought up unconscious biases, because I think generally a lot of WC content creators tend to stick to presenting the stories in a more radical/black and white way.

I think the discussion really should be that the books and the stories ARE pretty misogynistic but unconsciously so? A lot of the story beats I mentioned weren't written by just one person, and the Erins have different opinions on these cats than the fans do. That's not me stating an opinion, that's just me saying recognizing that it's very male-oriented IS an issue these books have.

Anyways this got way too wordy, Ashfur is one of my favorite villains so I don't even know why I typed all of this up /j.

#confession #long post #mapleshade #frecklewish #squirrelflight #leafpool

[according2thelore]

I think in es/ls verse that ls!sam would absolutely refuse to tell either of the younger ones about the future for WormHole Reasons but also because he knows they mentally cannot handle the idea of hell/the cage/purgatory/mom coming back/meeting god/the like.

and that's the Old Winchesters party line so obviously ls!dean is like 👌 sounds good sam whatever you say 👌 and then drops tantalizing hints in front of es!dean to fuck with him. just enough to drive him crazy, not enough to actually give him knowledge.

but. es sam is a goddamn bloodhound. he does not believe that any version of dean has the Right to keep any secret from him, ever, actually, and he's so so curious, and grizzled old dean is so WHIPPED by this entitled baby sam that he ends up spilling wayyyy too much. HE CAN'T HELP IT. plus he's jealous that his sam is spending time with es!dean, so.....

anyway, cue es!sam yelling at es!dean because how dare he sell his soul for him, months before he actually does it. es!dean overhearing es!sam ask his older self if they actually go to hell and what's it like, and dean loses his mind. etcetera.

"hitler's scared of me." dean says. the younger version of him slows down chewing, but doesn't stop. sam and...well, sam have gotten up to go look at the state map on the far wall of the diner, trying to see where alva, oklahoma is.

"yeah, okay." younger dean says--little dick, dean wants to dub him, but that weirdly feels like a self-burn, so dean goes back to brainstorming--but he must see something in dean's eyes, because his own get huge. like, cartoon-character huge.

then he starts choking. dean's sam--sammy, they've started calling him--comes over and smacks the kid on the back, then glares at dean like dean just purposefully and cruelly antagonized a wet kitten in a dumpster. or baby jesus.

"no fucking way. guy's been dead for like--seventy years!"

"elliot ness or hitler?" sammy asks dean through gritted teeth, still glaring holes into his face.

"i meet elliot ness?" little dick--fuck it, kid's annoying--cries, and sammy slaps a hand to his forehead.

"shit."

~~~

“lord palpatine has a granddaughter and she's hot." dean calls into the shower room as he passes, and he hears a loud crash.

"i'm going to FUCKING kill you!" little dean screeches--again, weirdly demoralizing--and dean cackles the whole way to the kitchen.

~~~

"you should get really good a sword-fighting." dean suggests. younger dean just slumps forward.

"why?" he asks, like dean just suggested he stick a grenade pin up his dick or chew off sam's toenails.

"dunno. seems destined." dean says, and his world gets rocked as sammy hits him on the back of the head with a book thicker than his arm--as hard as he can.

~~~

"am i happy?" sam asks--baby sam, even though they've established that he's just 'sam,' with flashing eyes and a curled lip--because he's a manipulative piece of shit. dean can feel his shoulders tense.

they're sitting on the couch in the dean cave and re-watching some old hits, like the original clash of the titans. sam has strategically placed himself so his skinny thigh is pressed against dean's bigger one.

dean has very carefully not looked down to catalogue the difference because he knows he's going to do something stupid like pop a boner over it. dean knows that the closeness is strategic. but god, sammy--sam--smells like his old aftershave and summer. his eyes are bright and unlined. and he's playing dean's strings with deft fingers as he rolls his neck and looks at dean with eyes bigger than the damn sky.

they've been spending so much time together lately now that sam--adult sam--has found his new favourite in dean's younger self. sammy told the tiny asshole--what the hell is he going to call this kid--that he did a good job the other day, and the kid damn near pissed himself in delight like an excited puppy. dean's not speaking to either of them at the moment.

sam's been gently plying him with questions over the past few days. did i ever finish my degree? do i have my own car? was this from our last hunt? why do you and sammy look at us like that? what's our favorite place to eat?

some of them are innocuous but most are not, and this most recent question has knocked dean flat on his ass. he can't help but picture sammy--older sammy, his sammy--and his hollow eyes. his smiles. his eyes rolling in pain and pleasure and exasperation.

"yes. fuck. i hope so." dean admits, too damn easily, and he sounds like he's begging. he searches sam's face, prying his eyes apart for the answer. he's a kid. too damn young. he's dean's baby. dean feels like it's a promise, and it feels inadequate, an i'm taking care of you, i guess, so dean tries to cast the words in iron.

"i'd do anything to keep you safe, sammy. sam." dean corrects himself quickly, even though sam melts into his side like a cat. "to keep you happy. alive."

and sam kind of freezes, pulls back a little.

"what did you do?" the words are hard.

dean's stomach sinks. "what?"

"what did you do, dean?"

and dean tries to demur, like oh come on, it's just an expression. but dean knows that sam saw the depth there, heard the weight of it. he knows that there are decades underneath those words. lives under those words.

he sinks his teeth into dean, into the very marrow of him, and doesn't let up. dean tries to fight off his insistence, fielding questions for almost ten minutes before sam grabs him, hard, and shakes him.

"did i kill you--did you let me kill you?" sam begs, hands tight fists in dean's shirt and of all the things dean was expecting, it's not this.

"what?" he asks. "what are you talking about?"

and sam lets him go, falls back against the couch, hand over his mouth and dean's afraid he's going to throw up. dean knows--in a way he didn't know when he was young and stupid and twenty-seven--that sam needs time to think, so he lets sam stew.

"that's the worst thing i can imagine." sam says, finally. "i have dreams where yellow eyes kills you. i have dreams where dad does. and i...and i have dreams where i do it. because of what i'm becoming. and i...i don't know what's a nightmare and what's a--a vision--and i--"

and dean tucks this little kid under his chin, wraps arms around him that could suffocate him if he tried hard enough, and holds sam to him like sam will fly apart if he doesn't.

"nothing like that, baby." dean murmurs into his hair, and lets sam quietly wail into his shirt. he doesn't say, i'd let you kill me, because sam knows. he knows. it would be one of dean's gentler deaths, any death at the hands of his brother, but how could dean even start to say that?

"tell me dean. we protect each other, right?" sam begs, wet against his neck, and dean shushes him, feeling inadequate.

"of course. you're my baby brother. i'll always look out for you."

~~~

"promise me."

"i'm not gonna do that, sammy."

"it's--never mind. look at me."

"what--what? we gonna sit here and talk about our feelings? what do you want from me?"

"something's happened to them. don't tell me you haven't noticed. your sam is barely holding it together."

"hold on, he's not my--"

"i don't know, okay? bad feeling. just promise me you're not going to do something dumb. or let me...i don't know."

"now sam, when have i ever done something stupid?" a smile in his voice.

"you're impossible." fond. sad. warm. lonely. acknowledging. dean backs away from the doorway.

~~~

"i'd do it." dean--fuck it, dean's run out of nicknames for the little fucker. "whatever we do. in the future. i'll do anything for him."

he's standing in dean's doorway. that's the first time really that he's said we--an implied understanding that they are technically one person, the same person. dean doesn't look up from the gun he's cleaning. i know, he should say. or good. or it's not going to be enough.

but he just looks up into his younger face, and for the first time since this whole fuck-show started, feels something like pity. like camaraderie.

"c'mere." he says. "lemme show you how to load a mag in six seconds."

~~~

this RAN AWAY FROM ME!!!!! i LOVE this idea anon!!! your brain is brilliant!!!

i personally don't see LS!Dean telling ES!Sam about hell, for the same reason LS!Sam can't tell ES!Dean about the cage. it's too close, too personal, too real. inevitably.

ES!Sam would go mad with it, i think. hell, we SEE him unhinged in the show, actively or passively killing people to get dean back. LS!Dean would never want to put that on him, couldn't bear it. but i think he'd get pretty close.

anyway! sorry for the length, lol! i'm actually pretty proud of this one, and i had a lot of fun thinking about it! thank you for the ask anon! you are so correct!

-lizzy <3

#ask box #lizzy answers #ES/LS verse #anon <3