#adding directly underneathed

[artcalledtattoo]

I sub-dorse

[drunkardsprayer]

converting the lovesick playlist you were making for them into a playlist about the specific kind of heartbreak they inflicted on you is actually very healing i recommend it

[iamasaddie]

YOUNG, GREEN AND STUPID

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: after spending the night at Joel's your walk of shame is darkened with a hangover and anxiety. As you try to reconstruct the events of last night in your head, you realize that despite feeling uneasy, you can't say no to Joel. warnings: darkfic, manipulation, self-gaslighting, age gap [Joel is 61, don't read it and don't @ me about it if it's not your thing, just leave], switching POVs, explicit sexual content. Some tags are not added to avoid spoilers. reader description: afab she/her, has hair long enough to be pulled; has boobs and ass; reader mid to late 20s-30s. word count: 3,8k

a/n: thank you to the freaks who support me and this fic, i'm kissing y'all. i appreciate all the asks and comments and reblogs, they motivate the fuck out of me. giant thanks to the one and only @arcanefox207 , if not for her i'd smash my laptop against the wall. Ally you are my blessing of a beta and a friend <3 READ ON AO3

MASTERLIST | part 1 | part 3

The crushing weight of someone’s body around you made you feel trapped. Your back was covered in sweat, sleek where it pressed against your last night’s date. You wiggled, your head pounding in an unforgiving manner. Slowly, you opened your eyes and tried to fight the pain from the light punching you square in your face. 

With bleary eyes you took in your surroundings, at least as much as you could make out. The room welcomed you with dark pastel colors. It looked tidy, but stuck somewhere in the 80s. Dark blue walls were scarcely decorated by a painting of a lone cowboy in the middle of nowhere and a wooden plaque of the Texas state map. A shred of sunlight that bothered your pulsing eyes crept through the curtains that the house owner had forgotten to fully draw last night. You couldn’t make out the color as staring directly at the light made your headache worse. 

Hardwood wardrobe matched the bedframe and the table, and by the look of you realized that even the furniture in this house could be older than you. Simple cotton bed sheets soaked in your warmth, it felt overwhelming and too hot to enjoy, so you tried to get out of your date’s embrace. 

Without looking at him too much, you cautiously threw off the duvet cover, finding yourself fully naked underneath. You couldn’t remember when you undressed. The last thing you could dig out of your foggy mind was falling asleep on the man’s chest, with your dress still hugging your body. You dared to peek underneath, just to be met with your suspicion. Joel was as naked as you. 

Was there anything else you didn’t remember?

Anxiety started prickling at your heart, unease settling in. Gently, you grabbed the hand that was still laying heavy on your stomach and placed it on the bed. You held your breath, listening to the man next to you, but he didn’t budge. You slid out of bed, your bare feet met with a soft worn out rug. Before standing up, you give Joel one look over your shoulder. As if feeling your gaze, he shifted in his bed, turning to lay on his back. 

Your nakedness felt very apparent, and you brought your hands to cover your breasts, like someone could see you. You looked around, in search of your clothes, planning to find it on the floor or wherever else you could throw it in the state of bliss and inebriation. 

To your surprise, you found the skimpy outfit gently folded and placed on the table in the corner of the room, Joel’s clothes laying in a neat pile just next to yours. Something similar to a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you quickly regained your composure. The fact that your clothes were taken care of didn’t cancel the fact that you didn’t remember how you lost it in the first place.

You unfolded the dress, sighing over the walk of shame you were going to face. The material felt unpleasant against your skin that was still sticky with sweat and potentially some other fluids. 

Once you pulled the dress on, you finally dared to look at the man in the bed again. Somewhere between your attempts to remember the night and redressing, his tossing made the duvet slip lower, and now he was laying there in almost all his naked glory. A beam of sun that peeked through the heavy curtains tickled his weathered, tanned skin with its warmth. You couldn’t deny it, the man was gorgeous with or without alcohol in your system. Him laying on his back let you see his face more clearly: it was ridden of any emotion, peaceful dream ironing the deepest of his wrinkles. His broad chest that was sprinkled with freckles and sun spots kept raising and falling slowly. One of his hands was resting on his lower belly, hiding a patch of almost fully gray happy trail from you. 

Your eyes slid lower, tracing the same pattern your tongue did less than twelve hours ago, if your foggy memories were correct. His cock laid soft against his hairy upper thigh, no less intimidating in girth, though shorter in length. Your mouth watered against your will as you tried to recall what it felt like to have him in your mouth. Gently, your pussy throbbed, bringing fire to your core. Joel’s legs were spread a little, and if you stood right in front of him, you’d see a pair of massive balls that you lathered in your attention and saliva last night. Heat crept to your cheeks and you shook your head trying to force the unwanted desire out of your body. You tiptoed towards the door, keeping your eyes on him and praying that his door doesn’t squeak. Just as you tugged at the doorknob, his left thigh jerked, and Joel brought his hand to rub his closed eyes. 

The loud bang of his front door forced Joel to finally open his eyes. He heard you rummaging around his room, trying to be a quiet little mouse, but for his old age he still had pretty decent senses. Well, hearing, at least. He didn’t budge, not exactly pretending to be asleep yet also not giving you any reason to think otherwise. His body pleasantly ached from sleeping on his side, cocooning you with his body. 

Now that you were gone, he stretched his arms wide and flexed the fingers on his bad hand. It’s been a year too long since he had a pretty young thing like you warming his sheets. The sweet scent of your sweat clung to the pillowcase and he wanted to bury his face in it as he lazily jerked himself to the memories of your cunt exploding on his tongue. 

Your pretty young body tasted divine. He licked his lips hoping to taste the remnants of your cum from his mustache. There was something so addictive about having a girl more than half his age writhe and moan for him, beg so prettily. All of them were the same, so desperate for real attention, for someone who knew how to give them what they didn’t even know they wanted. 

Joel’s cock throbbed in his hand and he brought his palm to his face to spit at it again. You were so wet on his tongue, a fountain of youth no less. So fertile, so easy. His balls were heavy with unspilled cum, he knew it wasn’t long before he burst into your pretty little cunt, and then your ass, too. It took him only a couple of hours to have you gulping him down. Yes, he had to turn to the assistance of trusty powder he kept in his drawer this first time. But judging by the hunger you had in your eyes as you climbed off his face some time later, studying his face shiny with your cum, he wouldn’t need that anymore. You’d end up craving him as much as he craved you from the moment he set his eyes on you.

He squeezed his shaft tighter, his movements more deliberate as his thumb teased the tip and smeared the pearly precum. He didn’t doubt that he already had crept under your skin, the eyes you gave him yesterday with your mouth full of his balls was one of a person hooked. He’d seen it before enough times to know you’d be back. He just needed to be patient now, and if there was something his years made him good at, it was waiting.

Joel gave himself a final jerk, exploding over his knuckles with a deep grunt.

A bunch of keys rattled loudly when you dropped it into a ceramic plate on a table in the hallway of your small apartment. You cursed gruffly, squeezing your eyes shut at the harsh sound. You kicked off your shoes on the way to the bathroom, and with a tired sigh, you pulled off your dress.

“Damn, what the--?” In a hurry, you forgot your panties at Joel's. If this was a regular date, you might have intentionally left an intimate piece of clothing, but with Joel, you couldn’t even... hell, you couldn't even remember if your panties were on that table with your dress.

Your head was still pounding, even taking a taxi with your head out the window didn't help much.

You kept replaying last night in your head, trying to fill in the blanks. You didn’t think you drank more than a bottle; plus, Joel shared it with you, so what the hell happened? He was definitely pouring the slightly bitter-tasting liquid from the bottle that you handed him, you saw the label. You remembered how he walked into the kitchen with an opened wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. Surely he couldn't...?

No, that was crazy talk. It was high time for you to stop listening to your serial killer podcasts. After all, he didn't do anything to you that you hadn’t asked for, that you hadn’t begged for. Especially since now you were in your own apartment, and not tied to a radiator in his basement.

You pulled the faucet handle, the warm water was filling your tub quickly. To make it better, you poured a handful of lavender-scented salt, the soft odor seeped into your lungs and gently calmed you down.

Slowly, you sank into the water, it enveloped you like a hot blanket, making you moan with pleasure. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, leaning your head against the back of the bath tub.

The recollection of your arrival to his house was clear as day; he was friendly and so, so gallant. None of Joel’s actions made you feel uncomfortable or unsettled. He was attentive, his gaze followed your every move, and even the memory of his brown eyes made your skin boil with an inexplicable feeling of desire.

The way he shot glances in the direction of your boobs made your heart beat wildly in your chest. He was trying to hide how much he wanted you, it was adorable and sexy at the same time. He wanted you more than any of your previous lovers seemed to. Maybe that was the reason why you didn't want to leave. The thing that pulled you into his living room and then pushed you to fall between his legs.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember exactly how you got there. You just remembered the taste of his salt, the low vibrations of his moans, and the insatiable desire to have more. 

Damn, you felt your pussy purr. Joel had some strange effect on your body, manipulating your mind even in his absence. Summoning all your willpower, you continued your journey through your memories, but the further you went, the more hazy they became.

Only your body remembered something, and that something was pleasure. His hot tongue exploring the folds of your pussy; his curved nose teasing your clit with every greedy movement. His bestial growl when you poured the sweetness of your orgasm into his thirsty mouth. 

And then darkness.

[Joel M.]: Hey, sweetheart, did you get home safe? [Joel M.]: I am not counting that yesterday was something you’d want to repeat, I just want to know you’re alright.

You jerked up from a dreamless nap and blindly found your phone under the pillow. Blinking the sleep out of your eye, you looked at the messages on your screen, doubt about opening them creeped inside you when you saw the sender. The little picture next to Joel’s name still showed you the dream man you went to meet yesterday. A man who turned out to be a lie, kind of. Thoughts of Joel confused you, on one hand he was an accidental liar, and on the other he was one of the best orgasms you’d ever had. An orgasm that still sent tingles down your pussy and made your hand go south. 

Hoping that the attraction your body felt to him was the result of your drinking, and then your hangover. You sighed as the memory of his cock sliding down your throat and the phantom touch of his tongue tracing your wet folds made you weep for him in a way you didn’t think your body could. Rationally, you still tried to fight your carnal interest in a man in his grandpa years, but your hand slowly trekked to your pussy that was filling with warmth and slickness.

You tapped the message open and typed your reply with one hand.

[You]: Hey, Joel, yeah, I’m good :) And I had a very good time yesterday.

Your text was read immediately, and you felt a pang of guilt that you made him sit and stare at his phone waiting for your reply while you were tracing the lips of your pussy and thinking about him in the most indecent way.

[Joel M.]: Well my evening certainly beats yours, I had this beautiful lady come over, she was so intelligent and beautiful, I thought I’d been dreaming the whole night.

A smile spread across your lips as you grinned at the screen. Something warm bloomed in your heart that made it difficult to stay indifferent. 

[You]: Is that all you can say about her? [Joel M.]: I don’t think other things would be appropriate to share, darlin

The buzz of your need that you tried to suffocate since you got out of your bath returned to your body with doubled vigor.

[You]: I promise I won’t tell

Your heart began to pound harder, the vibrations of excited beats bouncing off your ribs in the rhythm of the three dots that flashed at the bottom of the screen. You bit your lip, tearing at the delicate skin in an attempt to calm the swarm of thoughts that were constantly buzzing, trapped in your skull. 

You were driven by greed, by the selfish need to experience again what thrilled you yesterday. It was inexplicable, as if two basic instincts were fighting for control over you, and desire won out, pushing self-preservation into a distant dark corner of your mind.

[Joel M.]: In that case, she was the sexiest little thing I’ve seen my whole life. She had this gorgeous skin tight dress on, looked delicious in it, I think I started salivating the moment I saw her. And I was lucky enough to taste her later and let me tell you, just the memory of her sweet pussy on my face makes me hard.

You reread the message three times, feeling a drop of arousal leaving your hole and sliding down to the crack of your ass. With one finger you swiped it up and brought it to your clit, not playing with it but gently teasing around, soft moans sticking to your throat as you refuse to let them out.

[You]: does it really? [Joel M.]: You want proof? [You]: yeah

[image attached]

You had ripped your hand from your pussy, opening the photo and adjusting the brightness. It was the most stereotypical dick pic ever sent, but you couldn’t care less when you saw it. 

“Fucking hell.” You whined out loud. Joel’s cock, hard and standing proud, looked massive even in his bear paw of a hand. Its head was deep pink, the drop of precum on his angry slit catching the light of the lamp lit room. He didn’t lie a word, he looked painfully aroused and it worked like your personal siren’s song. 

You licked your dry lips, hoping you’d be able to taste him again, to have his fat head stretching your lips with no regard to your comfort. Pushing you just enough without breaking. For a second, you felt like you could smell his musk, your mind playing tricks on you. 

His message beeped, jerking you out of your haze. 

[Joel M.]: Been dreaming her juicy little cunt all day today, could barely get any shit done. Shoulda let her feel my cock yesterday. [You]: Do you regret it? [Joel M.]: I regret that I couldn’t see her pretty face in the morning, wake her up by licking her pussy, fucking her with my fingers before she spills on my tongue. [You]: Fuck, I bet she’d like that. I bet you made her feel so good last night. Bet it was one of the best orgasms of her life and she’s touching herself right now thinking about it. [Joel M.]: Does she? [You]: yeah, she does. 

Forgetting to overthink your every decision, you bring your camera to your naked pussy, making sure that your face is not visible. You tapped the red button and looked at the screen, fascinated by the way your own pussy looks this close. You dragged your index finger to your slit, parting your lips, and then shamelessly demonstrated a string of arousal that stuck to your digit.

[video attached]

[Joel M.]: God, just look at this pussy, so sweet and wet, just begging for some attention. [Joel M.]: Needs someone who knows how to take care of her. [You]: will you? [Joel M.]: You know it. Now do as I say, sweetheart, and touch that pretty clit. Slowly, no need to rush. 

A part of you was relieved that he didn’t freak out about sexting, who knew if the man was even familiar with the concept, but he was definitely a natural. Once again, you captured your pussy and obedience, as you took another short video following his simple command.

[video attached]

[You]: like that? [Joel M.]: Fuck, honey, yeah, just like that. Look at her, gushing already, asking to fill her up so polite. Why don’t you use your fingers to make her feel better, hm? Use two fingers.

It felt good, it always did, you knew how to take care of yourself, you knew how to make yourself writhe and moan. But after him, it was like something was missing. He didn’t even fuck you properly and you felt empty, not enough. You started pushing your fingers inside with more anger and disappointment, unable to fill that weird hollow space that he carved inside you after one drunken night. 

[image attached]

[You]: feels so good, joel, but it’s not enough, fuck need something bigger [Joel M.]: I know what you need, darlin, you need my big fucking cock fucking you dumb. I know that’s right. Dying to fuck an old man, ready to beg for it, ain’t ya? [You]: yes 

You should have been ashamed of yourself, but in reality you didn’t give a crap. In that moment he was giving you something you wouldn’t dare take, and he made you feel good about it. You wished you could hear his raspy voice kissed by South spilling filth in your ear. 

[Joel M.]: Such a good girl, so responsive, so needy, can’t wait to fuck you properly. Add a finger, sweetheart. Not gonna match my cock, I know, for that you’d need to shove your whole fist inside, but I want you tight and crying when I fuck you.

Blinded by the haze of your pleasure, you followed every command, his message replaying in your head over and over, overstimulating your mind. The stretch didn’t burn, it felt good, welcomed, and you tried to curl your fingers to reach the spot that’d break you. You threw your phone on the bed, bringing your other hand to play with your nipples as the heel of your palm rubbed your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you chanted. Your ears rang as your body convulsed in pleasure with the man’s name on your lips.

Your phone rang and you were surprised to see Joel’s request to facetime you. With a shaky finger you swiped to accept the call, leaving a smear of your cum on your screen.

“Judging by your face, that felt good?” His face was poorly lit, but you still saw a smile. 

“Yeah, good is one word,” you admitted, biting your lip. Your lower belly still trembled in the post orgasmic bliss.

“Show me, I think I deserved that, hm?” 

You hesitated for a moment, but spread your legs and angled your camera at your sleek, puffy pussy. Joel grunted, air leaving his lungs with a whistle. 

“Spread those lips, baby, I need to see you pretty hole twitchin’, need to see her winking at me.” It was gross, and weird, yet you did exactly what he asked. Your pussy was sensitive, and you whined as you spread yourself for him.

For a moment there was only silence and wet sounds of him jerking his cock to the sight of your abused pussy. You didn’t dare move. didn’t dare look at the screen even though another spark started burning deep inside you. 

“Fuck, good girl, good fuckin’- good pussy.” Joel’s voice shifted into growling, panting as he came all over his fist. It was your cue to bring the phone back to your face, he was already smiling at you from the other side. 

“So,” his breathing was mostly even, but the sweat glistening on his forehead was a telltale sign of the recent physical exercises. “Whatcha doin’ this Sunday?” 

You closed your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“After this? Going to church.” 

“No, don’t do that, sweetheart,” Joel chuckled. You opened one eye, noticing how intently he was watching you, his eyes studying every bit of your face for crumbs of reaction, cracks in your freshly-built facade. “We don’t want you to burn alive, do we? How about you visit me?” 

“Pretty sure that’s what Satan said to Eve.” You brought yourself back into the darkness, your heart still pounding as if you’d ran a marathon. All of this wasn’t good, it was wrong but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact problem. He was seeping under your skin, and if you wanted to get rid of him, you’d have to flay yourself alive. Not a bright prospect by any means.

He was looking at you from the other side of the screen, his brown eyes piercing, but he didn’t push you. The words fell from your lips on your own accord.

“I can come by around 8, but this time I’m bringing food.”

Joel smiled, and nodded in agreement. Thick thumb rubbed his plush lower lip, like he was trying to remember something.

“Can’t wait to have a taste.”

You shook your head, a chuckle stuck in your throat. Without saying goodbye you disconnected from the call and dropped the phone on the pillow next to you. Your skin was sticky with sweat, a cold breeze from the opened window teased your flesh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Pleasant exhaustion and abysmal unease dragged your mind in two different directions keeping your body on the edge of sleep but not letting you fall.

Your bed felt too lumpy, wrinkles of your rumpled sheets digging into your skin. Tossing and turning until early morning, you couldn’t shake the creeping anxiety over your decision.

LEAVE A COMMENT, YOUR FEEDBACK IS MY MOTIVATION <3

[totalswag]

I have a request... maybe reader is popular on tiktok and she does that thing on tiktok "raw next question" jokingly but he sees the video and responds

raw next question? ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note can i just say thank you for sending in this request??

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary you jokingly leave a comment underneath rafe cameron's tiktok thinking nothing of it because of the trend going around. the following day he responds back with interest.

warning(s) little bit of cursing, mentions of drinking.

Several people have used the term "raw next question" on tiktok to describe their celebrity crushes, influencers, or people they find attractive in general. You even got them.

On an ordinary Friday, you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your for you page while the television played. You just came across Rafe Cameron's tiktok video where he posted slides of himself. 

Rafe Cameron is a popular guy on the app who every girl fantasizes about. He became popular after posting a tiktok of himself. A few months ago, he followed you on tiktok and instagram⎯you followed back on both.

You won't lie, he's an attractive guy⎯he knows he is. Neither of you have commented under each other's post before⎯you thought why not comment and see what happens.

"Should I do it?" You casually ask yourself as if you were in deep thought, "fuck it."

yourusername: raw next question?

⇾ fan2: umm ariana what are you doing here???

⇾ fan5: this is so unexpected but HELL YEAH

⇾ fan3: not her being BOLD 😭

After leaving your comment on Rafe's tiktok, you placed your phone down and resumed watching your movie. You felt your phone vibrate as supporters responded and making edits of Rafe and you. 

You honestly hoped on the trend but knew what would come from it after submitting the comment. Supporters know you will shoot your shot without thinking⎯you only live once.

The next day, you had two best friends over, Evelyn and Zoie. Three of you are having a girls' night that includes making dinner, drinking, playing games, baking, and watching movies. 

Evelny and you were gathering the ingredients for the cookies when Zoie let out a loud gasp while holding her phone, causing you two to look up, anxious. 

"What happened?" Evelyn and you speak in unison, setting everything down and walking over⎯looking over on both Zoie's shoulders.

"Rafe Cameron responded to your comment, Y/N," and all mouths dropped to the floor.

You freeze, your stomach doing a little somersault. “What?!”

You sigh and take Zoie's phone, saying, "Let me see."

There he is, sitting casually in a chair, the lighting soft and golden, his blonde hair slightly tousled. He’s rocking back and forth, staring off into the distance like he’s deep in thought. Then, slowly, he glances down at his phone.

The frown on his face shifts—subtly at first, then into a sly smirk. He leans forward, looking directly at the camera. “Uh-huh,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

"Y/N, you better say something because he's definitely interested," she replies. "I gotta agree with Zoie on this one," Evelyn adds, folding her arms and nodding to Zoie in agreement. 

"Let me check my phone first to see if he's messaged me," you say with a hint of eagerness and excitement, "plus I mainly commented to join the trend..." you trail off.

"Yeah sure" Zoie sarcastically remarks, leaning forward, shaking her head side to side.

instagram: rafecameron sent you a message

rafe cameron: hey! bold move, I think we should talk. 

⎯⎯ my taglist! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

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[faestunna]

Neeeed more of remmick calling reader pet names like sugar or darlin’

sweet as sugar

PAIRING: remmick x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

WARNINGS: smut (18+), dom/sub, sir kink, thigh-riding, man-handling, dirty talk, slight humiliation, degradation, cum/spit play?, licking, oral/throat-fucking, crying, porn without plot

A/N: your wish is my command 😌 and i would like to thank luna for the wonderful and filthy discussion on this

masterlist

“Please,” you drag your voice out and pout your bottom lip, looking up at him through your lashes. Directly in between and underneath your legs is his thigh. You place nearly all of your weight on it.

It didn’t go by unnoticed. Remmick smirked down at you while his hand rested on your waist. “Please, what, darlin’?” You shivered at his touch. “Can’t treat you right if you don’t tell me what you want.”

You furrowed your brows; this was going to be harder than you thought. “You know what I want.” You squeezed your legs around his thigh, building the pressure on your core. The only barrier between you and him were his denim work pants and the cloth of your panties.

Remmick chuckles when he feels a warm wetness soak through his jeans and to his skin. He knows that feeling. “You’ll have to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Just wanna feel good.” Burying your face into his neck allows you to inhale the very scent of him. “You don’t even have to do anything,” you offer. The muscle of his thigh is as solid as stone. You shudder at the feeling against your clit. “I-I’ll do all the work.”

“That so, baby?” He smirks before leaning back in the seat. “Show me, then.”

And you do. You put on the entire show. You sit up and begin grinding your hips into his leg as hard as you possibly can. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought you were straddling the wood floors (again, because Remmick liked to see you beneath him).

His hand reaches under your slip and lifts it until he can see the soft curve of you tits before taking one into his palm. Your head tilts back, lips parting open in response. “How’s it feel, angel?”

“S-so good,” You quicken your speed, spreading your legs even wider to amplify the pressure on your clit. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, what?” He holds the slip up to your chest and watches the way your breasts move with the rest of you.

You gulp and knit your brows together as a burning sensation blossoms at your core. His jeans are even wetter somehow, only adding to how delicious it felt to ride his thigh.

“T-Thank you, sir.”

Remmick knows you too well. He knows that you speak a little higher and your legs tremble around him when you’re painfully close. “Anytime, sugar.”

As your impending orgasm nears, your body falls weak onto his chest, head resting on his shoulder. The only thing keeping you up are your hands gripping his arms, but they soon wrap around you. Remmick’s fingertips dig into your hips so hard that they’re surely a part of you now.

“I’m close,” you manage to say. “Wanna cum all over you.”

He starts to move your hips for you, grinding you against his thigh. Remmick glances down for just a moment to see the wet spot even bigger now. “Go ahead, darlin’. All over me like the little slut you are.”

Your breaths turn short and quick, and you swear your entire cunt just popped with pleasure. The burning in your veins turns into a sweet bliss as Remmick’s hands slow the movements, letting you ride it out. A euphoric grin falls over your face before he suddenly pulls you up and away from him. You pout.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, his hand firmly landing against the soft flesh over your ass. “You know what to do now. How’re you gonna thank me, pretty girl?”

He sets you down on the floor—beneath him again. Remmick’s trained you well enough that you begin to fumble with his belt before he tuts, “Now, wait. Ain’t you gonna clean your mess up?”

Hesitantly, you nod, and it’s clear you don’t know what he means. His hand finds its way to the back of your head, pushing your face down right to where you just straddled his thigh. You feel the wet spot on his jeans as he smears it against your cheek.

Then, it clicks. You flatten your tongue against the denim, ignoring how rough it feel against your taste buds. The flavor of your arousal floods your senses in a strange yet interesting way. “Told ya that you’re sweet. You taste it now, don’t you, baby?”

You nod, continuing to lick at your mess. No wonder Remmick would bury his face between your legs so often.

Sweet as sugar.

But before you can enjoy it anymore, his hand in your hair pulls your head up. His other hand is already undoing his belt, and he doesn’t have to tell you to pull his pants to his ankles. Remmick opens his legs a little, “Right here. There you go, honey.”

His cock twitches before you instinctively wrap your lips around it, only allowing yourself a small bit of him. You wanted to savor this. Your tongue swirls over his tip, feeling it pulse with a pressure you’d assume is painful. His hand pulls your hair and you look up at him.

He moans at the sight of it. There were times like this where Remmick let you have only the slightest bit of control, and you revelled in it.

But not for long. He’s much stronger than you, so you don’t stand a chance when his hand in your hair pushes your head down just like he did over his thigh, only this time, the impressive length of him took up nearly every space of your mouth. The corners of your lips slightly burned as you opened your jaw further to take him.

“Oh, darlin’,” his head tilts back once your nose touches his lower stomach. Tears pool at your eyes, a few even streaming down your cheek. Then, he pulls you back up again. “Fuck, that’s it, right there. My girl always makes me feel so good, don’t you?”

You try to nod, but fail as he pushes you down again. Then up, and then down. And it becomes a seemingly endless cycle. Not a single muscle in your body moves—Remmick does it all for you. Each time he presses you down on him, you sputter around his girth, strands of spit connecting you to the base when he pulls your head up.

He doesn’t let you take a single breath. You begin to squirm in between his legs, small, muffled moans falling from your lips and getting caught in the luscious connection.

Then, like a miracle, he pulls you away completely. Air rushes to your lungs, creating somewhat of a numb feeling over your face as your mind goes foggy. “Look at you,” Remmick cooes. His other hand begins stroking himself as he takes in the sight of you. “Little whore loves to have a cock in her mouth.”

You nod rapidly, tongue flat and mouth open, awaiting the sweet feeling of him painting your face. But after a few moments of nothing, you open your eyes, brows furrowed in confusion.

He chuckles before slamming your head back onto him, his full length completely blocking out anymore air from your lungs. The room is filled with the symphony of your small moans, sputters, and gags. “Music to my fucking ears.”

If you were able to, you’d curse him out. He holds your head down pressed against him, trapping between his arms and his abdomen. There’s no escape. Your eyes flutter shut when his hips begin to move themselves, somehow forcing himself even deeper in your throat.

“Nuh uh, baby,” he ruts into your mouth. “Keep em open. Want you to see how good you make me feel.”

Even with your eyes open, you struggle to see him through your tears. “Atta girl,” Remmick says, leaning over you and planting a firm slap to your ass again. His hips don’t stop, blocking any air for you. “Gonna fill you up like this, then I’ll fuck your little cunt and fill her up too.”

Something warm and wet drips down your leg. You mentally thank God Remmick couldn’t see it or else you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

His hips stutter for a few moments before completing stopping. He holds your head down with just his forearm, but it’s too much for you to fight. You didn’t even try to—you wanted as much of him as you could get. And, as a man of his word, Remmick fulfills his promise.

His release slides down your throat with ease, hot spurts hitting your insides and leaving you a slobbering mess. Your name falls from his lips like a prayer—a sinful one, at that—as the taste of him takes up every last space in your mouth and throat.

When he releases his grip, allowing you to pull away from him. His cock still glistens with a residual shine.

Remmick’s hand gently caresses your cheek, chest rising with heavy breaths before he wipes the drool from your chin with his thumb. He lowers it to his own lips and moans at the taste of it. A small bit leaks from the corner of his mouth.

“Now, who’s the one droolin’?” You lightheartedly snicker, somewhat hoping he wouldn’t enjoy a tease.

His eyes, playful and dark, turn into a deep shade of red as he grabs your face with his hand, forcing your puffy lips to pucker. “Well, if you wanna be like that, darlin’…”

With one hand, he lifts you from your knees, curling his arm around you and folding you over his lap. He lifts the fabric of your slip and gently rubs the curve of your ass with his palm. He lands another firm slap, enjoying how you yelp from the stinging in your skin.

“I’m sure I can snap you back into place.”

© faestunna 2025.

[bitteriekitten]

lapdog.

synopsis — sitting (and grinding) on the l&ds boys laps.

warnings — nsfw content mdni please or i will steal ur kneecaps, afab!reader, teasing, all of the boys have big dicks, grinding down on said big dicks, a mixture of dom! and sub!lnds, kinda dubcon(?) in rafayel's, slight exhibitionism in caleb's, panty-eating in caleb's. i might've missed smt rarara lmk if i did !

featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)

notes — AND WE ALL CHEERED!!! happy sylus birthday week to those who celebrate!!!! this may be an ot5 fic but consider this my early gift for all my sylus girlies out there <33 i sincerely pray that whoever reads this (and reblogs this... hehe...) will pull sylus in just one ten-pull. AMEN!!!

Xavier doesn't give away that he was already losing half of his brain cells. After a week of fighting Wanderers in a faraway No-Hunt Zone, he earned himself a well-deserved break from work, to which he then chooses to utilize that break to cuddle up with you. As for the cuddles mentioned, though – you think it'll probably be a while before you can even get to that part.

Xavier's face remained neutral, contrasting the growing bulge in his pants. You shifted your ass against his hardness, to which his fingers tightened their grip around your hips. The delicious friction should've been enough to break your boyfriend from his almost nonchalant exterior, but he remained calm anyway.

You turned to face your boyfriend when his breathing started to sound heavy against your back. You innocently batted your eyelashes up at his disheveled state. "You okay, Xav?" you cooed, running a hand through his soft hair.

Xavier's scowl deepened. Without speaking, he pushed his hips up against you, his length basically outlining your pussy. He breathed into your ear and bit your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

Zayne naively thought you weren't doing it on purpose at first. He gulped when you shifted yourself on his lap until you were directly sitting on his crotch, where he was slowly growing hard. Surely, with the size growing underneath his boxers, you'd finally notice his predicament. But you were still diligently watching to the TV show in front of you, leaving him basically dry heaving against you.

His nervous habit of shaking his leg only came to bite him in the back when you basically began bouncing on his lap, your weight on top of him adding to the already intense pleasure. He bit his lip to hold back his gasp, resting his forehead against your back. You giggled when you felt the ghost of his lips against your spine, where he left a trail of soft kisses on your skin.

"That tickles, Zayne." you reprimanded without any trace of malice in your tone. He shivered when you arched your back, backing your ass up slowly but surely against his hard length.

"Please," Zayne gasped, his grip on your hips tightening and loosening in a ragged pattern, "H-have mercy on me..."

Rafayel could barely contain the moan that erupted out of his mouth. He had insisted on perching you on his lap while he added finishing touches to the painting he was working on, but now he was seriously reconsidering it with the way you sat directly on top of his crotch.

His grip on his paintbrush loosened, nearly falling to the ground when you leaned closer to his canvas, arching your back and grinding your barely-covered ass against him. Rafayel haphazardly put the brush down, his hands instead gripping each side of your waist. He didn't know what to do with your body on top of him, undecided whether or not he wants you to continue or to stop.

"A-ah! S-shit cutie, you need t-to stop..." he whined, but the way he was grinding back up at you said otherwise. You hummed, savoring the way his clothed length felt against your pussy.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do, baby," you teased quietly, grabbing his hands to steady yourself on his lap, "You want me to stop, yet you're basically humping me." Rafayel whined even louder, his breaths coming up short and unsteady against your warmth.

Sylus should've been used to it by now, given the amount of times he'd pulled you onto his lap on various occasions. But now, he's barely paying attention to the film playing on his big screen TV, his focus zeroing in on your hips and ass grinding against his lap. He tilted his head back and sighed to the ceiling, feeling blessed and cursed at the same time.

"F-fuck. Kitten, I know what you're doing," Sylus muttered through gritted teeth, one hand gripping your waist while the other on the throw pillow beside him. You ignored his weak warnings, almost bouncing now on his clothed hardness with a wicked smile.

You hummed, pleasantly amused at your boyfriend's growing arousal, "Hhaah... I don't– I dunno what you're talking about..." you sighed, guiding his hand from your waist to the top of your thigh. His other hand transferred to gripping your other thigh, to which he thrusted his hips outwards involuntarily.

You nearly keeled over as your clit grazed against the fabric of his silk pants. Sylus moaned alongside you, overwhelmed with desire to just bend you over and have his way with you.

Caleb could only gulp as he tried to make sense of the online meeting he was having on his monitor. He was lucky that he didn't need to have his webcam on at all times during his meetings with the fleet, to which he would use this opportunity to catch up on cuddles with you and have you by his side during these droning sessions.

And as much as Caleb finds these meetings boring, you find them boring also. But you're forced to stick to his side through his work-at-home hours, just so he could kill two birds with one stone: getting his work done for the day while still being able to spend time with you.

"Oh-hoo god, a-am I muted?!" Caleb whispered furiously against your hair, your hips speeding against his crotch. His hands hadn't stopped exploring your body, touching and groping all that he could so he could calm himself down. You didn't respond, opting instead to focus on Caleb's hard length against your ass.

"Fuuuuuck, b-baby–" Caleb was cut off as something red was shoved into his mouth. His tongue ran over the object, his loud moan muffled against it when he realized you just shoved your panties into his mouth.

[slytherinboysvip]

!Motorcycle rider bf¡ Theo Nott

(Nsfw! Your boyfriend Theo has a motorcycle now.. and a hot fucking helmet.) (helmet kink? lol idk) smut smut smut

Your boyfriend Theo didn’t have many outlets to get away from his thoughts, before it was smoking which he’s attempting to slow down on for you, occasional journaling not that he’d ever let you see that, and now his newest and most favorite hobby riding his motorcycle.

To be completely honest at first the idea terrified you, an angry Theo driving around on a motorcycle going any speed he pleased “Starò bene amore mio, tu sei il mio portafortuna”(ill be fine my love youre my good luck charm). You’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t say he looked damn fucking good in his helmet. So good in fact that you needed him to fuck you in it.

It’s like his whole demeanor changes when he puts it on, you can’t see his face yet you know his beautiful sleepy eyes are looking directly at you underneath, yet all you see is his fit body and it just did something to you. It didn’t matter what he was wearing as long as that helmet was on his head you were drenched.

𓆙𓆙

The first time you rode on the back of his motorcycle was amazing. He bought you your own helmet “I had to get it for you baby it screamed you, and it gave an excuse to finally make you ride with me. Not that you haven’t done that before” He winked while putting it over your head. You were glad it was on so he couldn’t make fun of your profuse blushing but who cares it’s because of your hot boyfriend.

He put his helmet on and you nearly fell to your knees he looked so fucking hot. Without saying anything he lifted you up and onto the back of the bike and got on in front of you. “Can you hear me principessa?” You jumped hearing his deep voice in your ear “Yeah? how can I hear you Teddy?” You were so confused “I got mics duh, had to be able to hear my baby. Now hold onto my waist we’re gonna get going don’t let go.” His voice was demanding and you did as he said.

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he grabbed your left hand and kissed it before putting it back down and kicking off, You didn’t expect it but the bumpiness of the road was doing something to you. You tried forgetting about it, it wasn’t happening, you weren’t getting turned on, but you were.

Your hands mindlessly wandered down onto your boyfriend’s crotch, rubbing slightly yet acting oblivious. “What do you think you’re doing there, hm?”. You almost forgot your boyfriend could hear you, “Nothingg, just resting my hands duh” You added some pressure and heard a small groan turning you on even more than before.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish doll” One of his hands came down and stopped your hands forcefully, a small moan escaping your mouth unwillingly. “My cute slut” He chuckled pulling your hands back up and going back to both hands steering.

𓆙𓆙

It has been long enough and you needed him to fuck you in the helmet. At this point all you had to do was tell him, of course he’d do it he does anything for you but the act of having to ask is so embarrassing, but its what has to be done for your own sake.

Reluctantly walking over to your boyfriend you quickly somewhat quietly expressed your feelings “Ireallyreallyneedyoutofuckmeinyourhelmetorilldie”. He looked at you with a confused look “Say that again but in actual words this time” He placed both hands onto your shoulders looking deep into your eyes, yet another weakness of yours. “I want you to fuck me in your helmet” You mumbled just enough for him to understand, trying to look away .

He chuckled before pulling your face to look him in the eyes again “il tuo desiderio è il mio comando, principessa” (your wish is my command princess). He got up and turned you around, “Keep those pretty little eyes of yours closed for a second”. You heard him walking away and did as he said before feeling a tap on your shoulder, “Turn around doll.”. Doing as he said you were greeted by a helmeted Theo, “Holy fuck you’re so hot”

“You know what you asked for, don’t waste time get on the bed for me slut”. You just nodded quickly before running for the bed and undressing. “Good girl, know just what to do for me. Get my pants down for me”. Pulling them down as much as you could you grabbed his growing dick and putting it into your mouth looking up at him from the bed, this entire view and situation made your pussy fucking drip.

You could hear his low groans coming from underneath the helmet and it was making you want more, “Please fuck me Teddy, please I fucking need it” You were looking up to your own reflection and seeing yourself covered in saliva because of this and made you feel something you never felt, you just wanted more. “Lay back then, I want you to fucking watch me.” He removed his shirt and holy shit he everything became even better. You definitely weren’t protesting this.

His rock hard abs, his throbbing big fucking dick and his helmeted head. He was like a god. Lining himself up to you he rammed deep inside making you give out a loud moan, his pace was immediately picking up hitting all the right places. His right hand came up to your pussy and he easily found your swollen clit begging for attention, he began swift circles over your clit with his thumb moving it side to side occasionally, It was already making you go over the edge. Everything about this moment was everything you needed.

Your pussy began clenching around his dick, your orgasm nearing and moans increasing, he kept his pace and underneath the helmet he was a mess, moaning and cursing because of how good your pussy felt. “è una bella merda, tesoro” (thats that good shit baby) He moaned deeply. Even though your legs were shaking and you couldn’t control your moans he kept going. Pace now increasing and still not leaving your clit alone. You were being so overstimulated but it never felt so fucking good.

He pulled out but before you could even say anything you were roughly flipped over onto your stomach and pulled back, legs reaching the floor lifting your ass up and slamming right back into your pussy. Screaming moan leaving your mouth “FUCK THEO MM”. Your screams only encouraging his behavior making him go even harder, hitting far and deep you were a mess and he was going feral.

He reached his hand forward grabbing onto your jaw shoving two of his fingers into your mouth yanking you back forcing you to arch, he leaned forward his helmet barley in view but enough for you to get turned on some more, his dick was driving you insane. “You’re so wet mm” he moaned “Fuck im gonna cum again Theo!!” You announced as you collapsed back down to the bed, nothing changing but him holding your hips up to continue fucking.

Your eyes were rolling back and you were feeling nothing but numb pleasure going dumb. “Cum for me good girl, mm fuck” “I love your pussy..” He stroked deeply “..and i love how much of a needy whore you are for me” He stroked harder and quicker “..and mm I fucking love.. filling you up” He moaned his last words feeling his cum shoot deep into your pussy unexpectedly making you moan. “Fuck theoo”.

He gently pulled out and spread your pussy lips watching intently as his thick white cum dripped out. Finally walking over to the side table and getting tissues to clean you off. “Now to take this off and get you properly cleaned up” He removed the helmet and he was sweating underneath which was also attractive to you. “Fuck it was hot in there but fuck that was hot” He laughed and you laughed along “That was definitely fucking hot. We need to do it again sometimee” You laughed again.

He lifted you off the bed and brought you into the bathroom sitting you down onto the toilet and starting up a warm bath “Any of your cute soaps today love?” He asked while looking through your box of bath bombs “Hmm, surprise me” You smiled at him and he went to looking. “This one’s perfect” He plopped in the only all black one that is definitely going to stain the tub.

He helped you into the bath and got into the shower next to you, being able to see him was funny but it’s just from the stomach up so it’s not much of a show. You sat there relaxing watching the water drip down his muscled back and felt content after that entire thing. This was most definitely needed.

Hopefully you enjoyed that<33 I know i’ve been gone for a bit but writes block LOL anywho im not sure how this is so lmk!!!

Masterlist

[maevedoodle]

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

Bob has his own room, he just hates being alone in it and feeling like he’s gonna get swallowed whole from every thought. So, he starts sleeping on the couch falling asleep to the thunderbolts voices. They take notice.

𝐚/𝐧: I decided to base this on a hc I posted on tiktok!! Worked on this at school so any mistake or if it seemed rushed this is why💔.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Bob has his own room.

A large king sized bed, dripped in silky beige sheets and an olive green duvet draped over the fluffed up bed.

Yelena even insisted on getting him a gray reading chair for when his bed gets too much, or feels to swallowing.

Ava and John even worked together to get Bob a rug that classed horribly with the curtains, But it made him smile anyway.

He should feel safe, He should want to dip underneath the duvet after his long burning hot showers, He should just want to lay there sometimes when things get home.

It should feel like his space.

But it doesn’t.

He promises himself he’d never talk about it, not directly atleast. But the team doesn’t play coy, they’re aware. The signs are easily spotted.

They noticed weeks ago.

After he’d tell them he’s tired, he’d wander back downstairs with his patterned quilt and crawl into the couch pretending to listen and engage in the conversation.

He never interrupted, The way Yelena and Bucky traded their tragic stories, Or Alexei and John arguing over stupid uno and Ava pretending to be over it, knowing damn well she loves this team.

Bob liked it, Existing in their space. This was safe to him, not his room, his room filled with abandonment and darkness.

Every few nights, like clockwork, Bob would show up just before they all started winding down. He’d sit quietly, always with that same blanket, always pretending to be part of the conversation even if he didn’t say a word.

It didn’t take long for them to figure it out. After all he’s like family.

Alexei was the first to say something. Not to Bob, Never directly, but one night, after watching him doze off mid conversation for the third time that week, he leaned back in his chair and suggested a life changer, well for Bob.

“We should make this a thing. Couch Night. Every Sunday.”

No one questioned it, it just became their thing.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

It was currently Sunday, Bob’s favorite day of the week, Couch night.

Bucky was in the kitchen stirring up hot chocolate and adding extra marshmallows in each mug, John beside him baking chocolate chip cookies and secretly eating the leftover dough.

Ava and Alexei were busy with the blanket situation, Silk pillows propped up on the large couch and many fuzzy, and soft blanket options to choose from.

All of this, it’s exactly what Bob needs.

Bob tiptoes downstairs, he had a habit of walking softly, one he picked up from his childhood.

Yelena was sat on the couch, Her legs tucked under her as a blanket wrapped around her figure, she was attempting to find a movie.

“Oh, hey Bob.” When she speaks his name, it’s gentle, like it’s sacred. He gives her an awkward grin before scurrying near her on the couch.

“Hi.” He whispers as he gets weirdly comfortable on the couch. She tosses him the remote, “I can’t find anything good, and you know they’ll kill me if I mess up a movie night, choice this sunday is yours.”

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Everyone’s settled in, Bob sips his hot chocolate slowly as he savours the flavor, he had a few cookies in a bowl also. The soft sound of the movie, ‘Paddington’ plays in the background.

Ava is already back in the kitchen reaching for more cookies, Alexei sobbing over the movie, “poor bear, why none of them takes him as a family?”

John keeps dozing off, but eventually wakes up after Bucky slaps his knee and tells him, “this is our valued time, wake the hell up.”

Yelena sips her hot chocolate quite quickly, before having Alexei fetch her some more.

Bob admires the sight in front of him, his own thing that feels close like family.

Halfway through Paddington, Bob’s head starts to lean.

Yelena notices first. She glances down just as the weight of him settles gently onto her shoulder. He’s already out, slow, steady breathing, blanket clutched in his hands like a grounding method.

She doesn’t move. Just adjusts a little to make it easier for him.

Across the room, the others notice too. One by one, the screen fades from focus as their eyes drift toward Bob asleep on the couch.

Ava is the first to smile. It’s faint, barely there, but it softens her whole face.

John lets out a quiet breath, something like a laugh. “Guy sleeps like a cat,” he whispers.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just watches with that faraway look he sometimes gets when the room is full and warm.

Alexei, hands folded over his stomach, nods once like this is good.

No one dares speak too loud. It feels like sacred ground, Bob, asleep and safe, trusting all of them not to let the silence turn cold.

For a long moment, no one says a word. They just sit there with him.

Together.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐚/𝐧: I love this little found family.

[gabbytvclarke]

The dog and the postwoman PART TWO: The Sleepover

Part one here! ♥ Part three here! ♥ Part four here! ♥ Part five here!

• Summary: After meeting Arthur TV and filming her first pub golf, y/n heads back to the boys’ flat for a sleepover, where more sweetness with Arthur continues. • Pairing: Arthur TV x female!reader (Also friend!George Clarke, friend!ChrisMD and friend!Arthur Hill) • Slow burn fluff, newfound friends to something more? More of exchanged glances, light touches, etc. • Warnings: alcohol, swearing, innuendoes • Word count: 4,452 words Note: Arthur Hill will be either referred to by his full name or just ‘Hill’, Arthur TV will just be ‘Arthur’!

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

“Oh really?” Arthur questioned, his cheeks beginning to burn again as y/n turns to look at him. The closeness of their faces in the cramped taxi adding to the heat as they lock eyes and share giggle.

George clears his throat, feeling the rising tension. “Better than people shipping Arthur and Chris again!” He chuckles, turning to Chris, “The amount of edits of you biting Arthur is mental.” Y/n and Arthur laugh. George draws his attention to his phone, resting his head on his fist with his elbow leaning on the taxi door handle. Chris initiates more small talk with the driver.

Arthur looks out the window to try and calm his nerves, sobering up slightly and suddenly feeling a tad anxious after the boys mentioned them potentially being shipped. He wonders to himself whether the boys are teasing him because his crush is so one-sided, or whether they're teasing because y/n is into him too. Could she like him? Is she only nice out of pity because he's a bit of an oddball? He knows the only way to find that out is to speak to y/n directly, and because of that he begins to feel a weight on his shoulders. Y/n also watches the streets pass by through the window on Arthur’s side, every so often she glances to Arthur. She can see that Arthur's deep in thought, tapping his fingers on the car door and knotting his eyebrows together. She remembers seeing moments in videos where he gets into a daze, and doesn’t think too much about it. Just in case though, she breaks the silence in the back of the taxi.

“What film are we watching when we get in?” She asks.

“Hm, not sure. Chris will probably pick or else he’ll get in a strop.” George answers quietly with a smirk, waiting for Chris to retaliate but he’s still too busy talking to the driver.

“Probably something terrifying,” Arthur chimes in, louder on purpose so Chris can definitely hear, “Chris likes to make us watch films full of jump scares to ‘see our reactions’, though I really think it’s because he’s too scared to watch it alone.” he laughs at his own comment, feeling a bit more relaxed again.

“That’s so not true Arthur.” Chris states, his voice breaking halfway through. “God I need a drink when we get home.”

“I think you’ve had enough mate.” George quips.

“Of water, you dickhead.” Chris snaps back, throwing his head back against the headrest.

When they pull up to their flat, Chris pays the driver and wishes him a good evening as the other three make their way into the building. They all kick their shoes off and Arthur removes his dog onesie, which he was using as a coat after only wearing shorts and a T shirt underneath. George also whips off his pickle costume, wearing similar attire to Arthur the whole time too. They throw their costumes on the floor. “Oh hey guys… and girl.” Arthur Hill says, walking through to the entryway, not expect y/n’s presence. Everyone else greets him as Chris enters, throwing his pickle costume to the pile on the floor too, muttering something about binning them later. “You all look like you need big glasses of water” Hill chuckles, looking across each ex-player, his eyes ending on Chris and widening.

“Fuck the film, I’m going to bed,” Chris groans, heading to the kitchen to grab some water first, “I’ll grab you two some blankets and spare pillows. You okay taking one of the sofas too y/n?” Y/n looks to their huge comfy sofas and nods.

“I think I can handle a movie, if anyone's still interested?” George offers to the room. Y/n and the Arthurs accept. Y/n immediately plops on one of the sofas, patting and feeling it with her hands and smiles to herself at how they're as comfortable as they look.

“I’ll grab you guys some water and paracetamol… and some food too.” Hill says as he heads into the kitchen area, Arthur follows him but passes to go to the bathroom. George collapses onto the other sofa and gets Netflix up on their huge TV. Hill passes y/n a tablet and water, setting the other two on the shared coffee table. He sits himself next to y/n. “No, Hill. Come sit by me mate.” George calmly suggests. Hill looks to him confused, shrugs and obliges. Y/n is busy messaging Becky to even pay attention. George then whispers in Hill's ear and they look to y/n, who's still none the wiser, and Hill gives George a subtle thumbs up.

Arthur enters the lounge area holding a pile of fresh folded blankets and pillows balancing on top. “Chris says ‘good night’,” he grunts a half-arsed impression of a grumbly Chris. He wobbles his way to the sofas, dropping the pillows to the floor and the top two smaller blankets onto George and Hill, and taking the larger blanket to share on the sofa with y/n as he plops down next to her. "They're for us to use later." Arthur explains to y/n. She nods and drapes the blanket over them both.

“I’ve put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven, you all should definitely eat something tonight.” Hill says.

“Thanks Hilly” y/n replies. George scrolls through the horror section on Netflix, waiting for everyone to agree. Y/n is open minded the whole time, whereas Arthur doesn’t want to watch one that he’s seen recently. Hill doesn’t fancy anything too gory and George just wants a film picked ASAP. The boys bicker a little as y/n watches on in amusement. Arthur makes himself comfortable, slouching with his arm resting by y/n. Y/n gets herself into a more relaxed position herself, but couldn’t deny feeling slightly chilly while she sits by the flat’s flimsy windows. She pulls her side of the blanket further up to her chin, sitting with her knees to her chest. “You cold?” Arthur whispers to her, while George and Hill are debating what makes a film 'too gory'.

“A bit, but I’ll be okay,” y/n replies. Arthur doesn’t have anything to chivalrously lend to her, not without being shirtless.

“Oh! Do you want to wear my dog onesie? I promise I didn’t spill anything on it.” He offers, throwing his half of the blanket off himself and standing to his feet, a little too fast and giving himself head rush. Y/n chuckles at his eagerness.

“Sure, thank you,” she answers, but by this time Arthur is already bringing the onesie over. She stands and puts it on over her postwoman costume. It was already big on Arthur, so it hangs even baggier on her, with her feet still tucked in the cuffed foot holes. She sits back down and pulls the blanket back over herself. “Much better,” she sighs contently.

“Don’t forget the hood!” Arthur grins, pulling the hood up from between her shoulders and over her head, giving her a couple of light pats. “There. Good girl.” He whispers as he leans in closer to her, a nod to her comment back in the last pub. Y/n scrunches her face up as she laughs, Arthur’s hand still on her head. He gently slides his hand down to her cheek, leaving it there for a second before setting it back on his lap. Y/n feels her face start to burn, thankful Arthur moved his hand away in time before he could feel it too, but also wishing he was cupping her cheek still. Finally, they all decide on a movie. Hill excuses himself to grab their dinner before it plays, then re-enters a few minutes later carrying two plates of pizza, which he had kindly cut into slices. George immediately grabs a slice. “Thanks mate,” he mumbles with his mouth full. As Hill gets himself comfy on his sofa again, George presses play on the movie. The four sit in silence while they watch and eat, ironically Hill eating more pizza than the others.

A particularly intense moment begins building in the movie, and y/n's body stiffens up. Arthur looks to her and can see her wide eyed and taking shallower breaths. "Ahh!" He suddenly screamed as he grabs her, the hand that was once resting behind her now grabbing her shoulder and his other hand reaching over and grasping her arm, making her jump out of her skin. She flinches so hard that the hood of the onesie flies back off. "Fucking hell mate!" George also calls out, pausing the film specifically to turn and shout at Arthur. Hill is sat in silence with his hand to his chest, panting slightly.

"Sorry guys, I won't do it again." Arthur chuckles, still holding y/n but he loosens his grip. The film continues. "Sorry," his whispers again but just to y/n, pulling her slightly closer to direct his apology gently into her ear.

"It's okay," she giggles back quietly, nestling herself more comfortably against Arthur. He smiles to himself as his attention turns back to the TV. After a while, y/n pulls the blanket up to her nose.

"Is it my breath?" Arthur jokes quietly.

"No no, my nose is cold," she muffles, which is true.

"Lemme see." Arthur replies, pulling the blanket off her face and pressing his nose against hers. "Oh yeah.' he whispers sweetly, his face lingering there for a moment as his warm breath fans her face. She pauses, even her pulse. He tilts his face to the side slightly and slowly leans in further, his lips not even an inch away from hers, before George chokes on his water. The sudden noise causing the pair to jump. They had almost forgotten that there are others present.

George sputters as Hill smacks him on the back. "Sorry. Wrong hole," he sheepishly croaks.

"Now we have to rewind because you forgot how to drink, a basic human task!" Hill whines.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry," George murmurs, reaching for the remote and getting the film to where it was before it was interrupted. Y/n and Arthur share a look. Both sporting a shy smile, both wondering if the other could hear the other's heart pounding.

A jump scare happens and the whole room jumps, y/n is startled so much so that she grips Arthur's thigh in a panic. His eyes go wide. Her hand feels perfect on him, half over his shorts' leg and the other half on his bare skin - which feels like it's burning under her touch. His tongue swipes over his lower lip nervously. She realises what she's doing and slowly releases her grip, adjusting the blanket as an excuse to pull her hand away. She notes to herself how firm and hairy Arthur's thigh is, so rugged compared to his soft demeanour. "Scared?" He whispers teasingly in her ear.

"No..." She retorts, almost silently. He squeezes her closer to him sweetly and chuckles.

"Cute." Did he just say... Did she hear that right? She can't help the smile creep on her lips either way.

After the movie finishes, the group take a few moments to discuss what they think of the ending. Y/n is distracted by her phone pinging, so she leans over to check it, laying on her side but still curled up under the blanket. It’s a text from Chip, hardly making any sense.

‘I’m home and a live heehe was nice meetin you proper today. u should ask author out you wld be so leng leng together xxxx’

Y/n thanks him for the fun day and a good night message, returning her full attention back to the group conversation but staying laid on her side. “Y/n looks like a little cinnamon bun over there, you tired from the pub golfing?” Hill asks. Arthur turns his gaze back to her, his heart melting a little at how cozy she looks.

“A little tired, yeah,” y/n answers before yawning. The three golfers tell Hill about their day, each with their own little anecdotes. Arthur does a lot of the talking, keeping his voice lower for Chris’s sake. It sounds like liquid gold. Listening to the boys’ chatter, y/n feels her eyes getting heavy as her blinks get slower. And slower. And slower.

--------

Her eyes gradually open, thankfully only a tinge of a headache surrounding her, all thanks to Hill’s insistence of drinking water from the previous night. The morning rays cascade on her through the windows of the boys’ living room. She gently sits up and looks over her shoulder, confused to see a pillow behind her that she definitely hadn’t placed the night before. When she faces forward again, she can see Arthur laying on his back on the other couch, staring intensely at his phone. When she squints her eyes, she can just make out a chess game on his screen. “Morning,” she yawns, startling him out of his match.

“Oh! Morning y/n,” Arthur replied, casually locking his phone and rolling over to face her. Abandoning a game that just now, he was so focused on. “Did you sleep alright?”

“I did,” she replies and a groggy smile, “although I really need to brush my teeth.”

“Me too, I’ll see if the guys have any spare toothbrushes for us.” Arthur replies, before stretching and hopping to his feet. He shuffles out of sight before y/n leans over and grabs her phone. It’s almost dead, so she grabs the portable charger from her postbag and sits back on the sofa. Upon plugging it in, she notices a text from George from the early hours of the morning.

“Cuties 🥹”

With a photo attached. She clicks the message for a better look and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. The photo is of her laying asleep curled up on the sofa, phone in hand. However, Arthur was big-spooning her, in almost the fact same curled up position. She zooms in on the photo to see his arm is sandwiched between and his face is all squishy from his position - he was fast asleep too. She hearts the photo and saves it to her phone, feeling giddy. However, soon after she stops to think. ‘If he was lying with me here, why was he on the other sofa when I woke up?’ She starts to worry herself, scared she farted or snored or something and gave him the ick.

“Well that’s not the face of a morning person.” George stated, standing in the living room in just sweatpants and a baggy T shirt. His croaky voice startles y/n slightly before she chuckles.

“Just in deep thought,” she replies.

“About what, the photo?” George asks. Y/n shushes him and waves her hand at him aggressively. George rolls his eyes.

“Relax y/n, I walked past Chris’s room just now and they’re both gassing about Lord of the Rings stuff.” Which makes y/n grin. George takes a seat next to her on the sofa. “The photo’s pretty simple, he fell asleep next to you.”

“Yeah,” y/n nodded, “but what happened?”

“Not sure entirely, I was chatting to Hill and realised Television was suspiciously quiet, when we looked over we saw you two spooning.” George explains, “we figured we’d leave you both to your sleepy time and both headed to bed ourselves. We left spare toothbrushes out for you by the way.”

Y/n stands up and yawns. “Thanks Clarkey” she sends him a half smile before making her way to the bathroom.

“Wait,” he starts, “Looks like Arthur slept on this couch.” he gestures to the pillows and disarrayed blankets on the other sofa.

“Yeah I think he did, did you see him get up at all before you went to bed?” Y/n asks quietly, fully aware she’s closer to Chris’s room now.

“I didn’t, like I said, you were cozied up when we last saw you.” he replies. Y/n pauses to think, eyes serious. “If you’re worried, just ask him mate,” George suggests. Y/n nods and heads to Chris’s room. George shakes his head with a smirk and whispers “Young love” to himself.

When y/n gets to Chris’s doorway, she can tell the boys are in deep conversation. As soon as Chris locks eyes with her, he clears his throat.

“Oh, good morning y/n. You sleep well?” he asks, his voice higher than usual.

“I did thanks, sorry to interrupt the hobbit talk,” she starts, making the boys chuckle. Arthur struggles not to stare, but he can’t believe how good she looks first thing in the morning, although it doesn’t surprise him. “Arthur, there are toothbrushes awaiting us.”

They head to the bathroom and brush their teeth in a comfortable silence. When they're both finished and put their toothbrushes back in the spare glass, the brush heads happen to be pressed together. "Look," Arthur points, giggling, "our brushes are smooching!" Making y/n laugh. Arthur beams proudly, admiring how unreserved her smile is. Just before they head out, y/n psyches herself up and reaches for the hem of Arthur's shirt.

“Hey, before we go back out there, I have to ask you something.” His hand is already on the door handle, but he stops himself and turns to face her, feeling his chest tighten.

“Sure, what’s up?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I hate to be awkward, but George sent me a photo from last night.” She begins, unlocking her phone to pull the photo up.

“Is it the one of us asleep on the couch? George sent me the same one.” Arthur chuckles shyly, sliding his hands in his shorts pockets and finding it hard to look in y/n’s direction. His face quickly drops and a look of anxiety washes over him, thinking he's in trouble. “I am so, so sorry for that. I must’ve fallen asleep before I could even realise-”

“Oh that’s okay Arthur, really. I thought it was quite cute.” Y/n assures him. Colour starts to flood back to his face as he finally looks at her, a small smile tugs one corner of his mouth with relief.

“I was more curious to know what happened after you first fell asleep, I noticed you switched sofas during the night,” she explains, searching his face for an answer before he even speaks.

“I see,” Arthur nods slowly, and he begins to explain:

“I’m not sure when I fell asleep but when I woke up, I was still laying behind you, like in the photo. You were fast asleep and I kind of panicked. I didn’t want you to wake up and see I was laying up against you without any consent and think I was a weirdo or something. So I figured I should move to the other couch and hoped you’d not know about the accidental spooning. I very carefully got up from the couch. You looked comfy, but I could only imagine the neck ache you’d wake up with. So I grabbed a pillow from the floor and very carefully lifted your head and slipped it under. You looked so much comfier then. Then I got on my couch and I guess I fell asleep straight away, as I can't remember much else.”

Y/n sighs, she smiles and shakes her head. “You’re so sweet, you really are.” They look at each other for what feels like minutes. Arthur’s glances switch between her eyes and her lips. She steps towards him, her gaze never leaving his sweet smile. A knock on the bathroom door brings them both back down to earth. “Are you guys done? Sorry but I need a shit.” Chris’s voice is heard in the other side. The pair giggle before Arthur rolls his eyes and opens the door. He stands to the side to let y/n leave first but Chris barges in mumbling an apology. When the pair walk back out to the open living area, George is preparing breakfast. "Oh, there you two are," he smiles, "I'm just about to make some grub, would either of you like any?" Y/n politely shakes her head.

"I'm okay for now thank you, I should really head home and get out of this uniform before I stink the country up anymore!" She replies.

"I should go and shower too, do you want to share an Uber? I'll pay." Arthur offers.

"We can go halves." She grins back, then unzips the dog onesie places it on the sofa. As she does so, the smell of Arthur's aftershave mixed with a hint of beer breezes past her, a harsh reminder of just how much she fancies the man.

They head to where their shoes were discarded, preparing to leave. "Just so you know, you smell lovely." He whispers, his eyes then suddenly widening. "I mean- that sounded creepy- I just mean that you don't smell bad! You- you won't stink up the country!" He then blabbers, bringing his palm to his forehead with a disappointed grin.

"Thank you Arthur," she replies with a genuine tone and smile, letting him know that he's not a creep.

"Speaking of smell," Arthur starts, turning to face towards the bathroom, "Bye Chris, enjoy your shit!" A muffled 'fuck off' is heard retaliating from across the flat.

"Bye guys!" y/n adds on between laughs, she faces George "Please say bye to Hilly for me when he wakes up." George waves his spatula playfully, like a suburban wife waving out her husband.

"Good bye, loooove you!" He calls out in a soft, higher pitched voice.

The Uber doesn't take long at all to arrive outside the boys' building. Arthur rushes ahead of y/n, holding the door open for her. She bows her head as if to thank him and climbs in, Arthur following behind her. When y/n gives the driver her address, Arthur is shocked to realise that she only lives a 20 minute walk away from his place. With nothing but the hum of the car engine for a short while, Arthur breaks the silence. "You know, it's refreshing to meet someone who is just as nice in person as they seem in their videos."

Y/n is surprised by the sudden compliment. "Same goes to you," she replies, "and you really do go wild after only a couple of drinks." She then chuckles.

"You should give me your number, I'm sure Isaac, Italianbach, would love to have you as a guest on our Bach and Arthur podcast. We can set something up." Arthur cleverly tests the waters, still unsure if she likes him or is just super nice.

"Great idea!" Y/n chirps, holding her hand out for his phone. He passes it over and watches her type with a smirk. When she hands it back to him, he grins to himself we notices that she saved her name as:

'Y/n 🐶✉️'

"Very nice." He states, amused. Sending her a text immediately that makes her giggle:

'Woof woof 😉'

They talk amongst themselves about upcoming videos, y/n is excited to hear that Arthur plans on playing another Dress to Impress with the boys. Arthur notices that the driver is heading to his place first. "Do you want a coffee at mine, we can walk to yours after as it's basically just around the corner." He offers with a wholesome smile.

"I would love to, but I desperately want to have a shower before I see some of my friends this afternoon." She replies, a hint of disappointment in her tone. "Otherwise, coffee would be nice." Unfortunately for both of them, Arthur doesn't quite realise at the time that y/n is suggesting they go for coffee sometime, like a date.

Arthur only nods though, "That's fair enough. Well I'll text you about the podcast soon at least." He smiles, although if she were someone who knew him better, she'd notice the slight pensiveness behind his eyes. He wonders to himself whether she's actually busy or just rejecting him kindly. Though later that day when he follows her on Instagram, he'll see from her story that she was telling the truth.

As the Uber turns to Arthur's street and starts pulling over, Arthur gives y/n a tap on her leg. "Don't worry about paying me half by the way, it's my treat." He tells her, still wanting to be chivalrous as ever despite his self doubt.

"You don't have to, but thank you" y/n replies, feeling warmer than she did five seconds ago.

"I'm glad Chris invited you to pub golf, it was fantastic meeting you" Arthur states, words oozing in y/n's ears like warm honey, as he reaches out to shake her hand.

"You too Arthur, have a lovely day" She replies sweetly, taking his hand to shake it before boldly pulling him towards her and pecking his cheek, slightly catching the outer corner of his lips too. Arthur rushes to unbuckle his seatbelt and step out the car before y/n can notice his face turning scarlet. As the Uber pulls away, y/n turns to watch Arthur walk toward his building, noticing his hand is pressed to his cheek with a dopey smile on his face.

--------

Over the next few weeks, y/n and Arthur message each other animal facts and videos about dinosaurs and general science back and forth. They also plan her appearance on the podcast. One day, Arthur sends her a random Instagram post of a postman cuddling a puppy and adding 'it's us 🥹' to the message, making y/n go fuzzy inside.

When Chris uploads the pub golf video almost a whole month after filming it that fateful day. Y/n reads the comments with rosy cheeks, completely unaware that 'basically just around the corner', Arthur is sat on his computer chair doing the same.

Commenter 1: omg did you see the way Arthur looked at y/n????? ↳ Commenter 2: Fr fr he was smitten

Commenter 3: get y/n and Arthur in a team next time Chris

Commenter 4: y/nTV is going to happen I’m calling it now!!!!!!

Commenter 5: 23:37 chip says 'bros in love' DID ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT ↳ Commenter 6: Right? That had to be about y/n!

Commenter 7: there's definitely some tension between y/n and arthur 😏😏 did you SEE that arm wrestle

Commenter 8: Y/N FREDERICK IS HAPPENING. feel free to come back to my comment in like 4 years time when they announce their wedding in a museum :)

--------

With both of them being too awkward to blatantly ask the other out or even admit their feelings, they continue their mix of friendship and flirtationship while their YouTube circle watches on in frustration. That's when Arthur Hill then decides to invite y/n to join him, Arthur TV, and George on a platform roulette video.

♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥•♥

[PART THREE]

A/n: Here is part two! Thanks so much to everyone for their sweet reception of part one. I feel like this one wasn't as good, but please let me know still if you'd like a part 3! ♥ Tag: @ooostarwarsfandom501st - Gabby xo

[fligniuz]

sex for homework

luigi mangione x reader

｡𖦹°‧ you ask your cute tutor to help you study for your math final.

word count: 5.5k • part of my study buddies series (read here!) • nsfw • read on ao3

warnings : f! reader; EXPLICIT; dumbification if U squint; praise; oral (m! receiving); pre calc lol

notes : crossposting my shit to tumblr and starting with arguably one of my greatest uses of free will in history. title frommm:

You have a bit of a dilemma.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that you had a dilemma, have had one for quite a while now—your current grievances are merely extensions of a constant, one raging, blood-thirsty, borderline psychopathic problem of a class. MTH121, Concepts & Applications, is the only remaining mathematics credit required for your degree, and, coincidentally, absolutely no one told you that that’s really just a fancy name for pre-calculus. Because the universe hates you.

Your final is tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. If that wasn’t bad enough, your brain has utterly fucked you; months spent poring over formulas and right triangles amounts to nothing in the moment, every relevant fragment of knowledge completely foreign to your burnt out, sleep deprived, caffeine ridden psyche. So here you sit, “studying”, armed with just your textbook and Khan Academy tutorials.

Is it too late to switch majors? Yes, you decide, massaging your temples as you take another glance at your notes. A mass of numbers, variables, and scribbled matrices clogs the pages, complete with your near ineligible annotations, details added in the heat of a lecture. You never knew there could be so many different types of numbers. Solve for x. 5 + 2x to the 2nd power = 8x. Factor x3 - 3x to the 2nd power - 4x + 12. Find the vertex of the function f(x) = x to the 2nd power + 4x + 3. Determine the value of x if the sum of the following sequence converges to 5. How any of this is relevant to your future non-mathematics degree is beyond you.

What the hell is a vertex again? And what does it matter? You’d rather be sleeping, or drunk. Whatever.

You have one saving grace. Since your freshman year you’ve been employing a little cheat-sheet, your one-way ticket to having math explained to you in a language understood by plebeians like yourself: one Luigi Mangione, a friend of a friend of a friend, possibly the smartest guy you know (and you’re far from the only person to voice that opinion). Your self-appointed tutor—and unfortunately for you, probably the most appetizing of any of the frat guys you’ve met in college, to put it chastely. The actual knowledge is just a bonus, really, because unlike other tutors you’ve worked with Luigi seems to actually care; he wants you to walk away from him with a solid understanding of the material, rather than a temporary knowledge that gets your homework done but is absent from your memory by the time of your exams. And it’s hard to write off the fact that he’s easy on the eyes.

…Pretty damn hard, actually. Because—in all honesty—you’re really into Luigi. Another thing that’s hard to do is get your math homework done when you’re busy fucking yourself with your fingers, like you tend to do after your time with him, thinking about his cock, his hands, the way he would fill you, pin you down underneath him, smirk at you and tell you dirty things like that’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl, that’s it, give it to me, show me how pretty you look when you come all over me like this…

Great. At this pace, you’ll never get anything done.

Your phone buzzes.

About an hour ago, you sent him a photo of your current predicament: your laptop and notebook open, and you sitting criss-crossed in front of it, an exaggerated pout on your lips. A few moments later, you sent another, this time of your middle finger pointed directly at your professor’s official portrait. Now, he responds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Smh

Who studies the night before their final?? Dummy

You smile, replying:

i do :(

help pls :((

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : You poor thing

And then:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : Come over. In like 15

We’ll work it out together

Score. He adds:

Academic Weapon (Luigi) : And I better not hear any complaining when I make you actually do the math

Your crush feels elementary, like you’ve got the hots for the nerdy jock on the playground that’s miles out of your league and that every girl on planet Earth is fighting tooth and nail for. You respond:

no promises :P

You pray to your lucky stars that you can study as nonchalantly as humanly possible.

You told him you wouldn’t complain, and you’ve tried, you really have. But dividing radicals is fucking stupid and useless and the more you look at your paper the more these numbers and symbols really start to look all the same to you, just scribbles, meaningless scribbles of made-up concepts that have nothing to do with your career prospects whatsoever. Who gives a flying fuck about solving equations with these weird ass numbers that normal people don’t even use?

You must be thinking out loud, because Luigi laughs next to you on the couch. He is laughing at your frustration. What an emotionally supportive tutor. You groan and thread your fingers through your hair, massaging your temples.

Still smiling just slightly, he starts to gather up your things. “Alright, look, how about we take a break?” He glances over at you, still holding your head in your hands. “Yeah, let’s take a break for a minute.”

He gets up from the couch, disappears into the kitchen for just a moment. Comes back with a glass of orange juice. For you. You try not to think about how pathetic it is that the most romantic gesture a man has done for you in the past three years is bring you juice. Instead you watch him, sipping slowly—no pulp, he knows you so well—and peeking through your eyelashes as he scuttles around his dorm, just the two of you alone together, while he throws some laundry into a basket and absentmindedly closes doors of unoccupied rooms. You have never noticed how defined his calves are before, nor how his curls bounce just slightly when he walks fast or how his shorts sag on his hips just right, just enough for you to get a peek of his V-line and the waistband of his boxers when he raises his arms to stretch—

Nonchalant. Demure. Mindful. You are failing so hard at the one thing you’ve forbidden yourself from doing: staring at him until your eyes are practically burning holes in his clothes and he’s melting into the floor. Not entirely your fault. He should’ve known to dress modestly around you. Around anybody, for that matter.

Luigi comes to sit by you now. As you tuck your hair behind your ears you can feel his arm move to rest along the back of the couch, almost around you, but not quite.

“Hi,” you say, propping your head up on your arm.

He smiles at you. You can’t even look him in the eye. “Did you think more about your radicals?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well, what were you thinking about?”

You swallow the conspiratorial intuition that he has to be fucking with you. Maybe he sees it on your face. Can smell it on you. Something.

“I was trying to think of some things I’d rather be doing,” you offer. “Instead of math.”

Your heart feels three beats faster all of a sudden, and when did he get so close to you? Your thighs are touching, his knee brushing against yours. “And what did you come up with?” he asks.

Oh, fuck. He’s definitely fucking with you. Right? He has that goddamn smirk on his face, that one that makes your insides twist with a feeling reserved only for boys who look at you just like this, like you’re busted, like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about every second you’ve spent sitting next to him doing algebra. You want to kiss it right off of him.

“Nothing,” you lie, sitting up straight and trying to pretend like you really are interested in your studies. “Here, will you show me how to do it again?”

He calls your name. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to look at him; the tone of his voice and the tilt of his head makes his intentions entirely clear. When your eyes meet his he inches closer, and all you can manage to do is stare at his lips.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, stern and warm enough to boil.

If he truly knew what he was asking for he wouldn’t be asking at all, you think. Not unless he was prepared for whatever your fervent need has in store for him. Embarrassment feels bright red and prickly on your skin. “I shouldn’t say.”

”But I think you should,” he whispers.

Oh. Oh. All bets are off, now. This has officially progressed from studying to “studying”.

Luigi lets you lead, his hand settling on the small of your back as you come a little closer to kiss him, properly. You hear him giggle before your lips meet; the curve of his smile against you is unmistakable, casting sparks through your body and down your thighs. He tastes like spearmint. You learn quickly that he is a fantastic kisser, and his tongue finds yours with curious excitement when your breathing starts to pick up. Without question, he claims the expanse of you, drinking in your essence, licking, biting. Those irresistible curls demand attention, and so you thread your fingers through his hair, your hand sweeping from behind his ear to the nape of his neck. Luigi shivers under your touch, exhaling softly against you.

When the fingers of his left hand raise to grasp your leg, you stop kissing him only to swing your body over his lap so that you’re straddling him. Luigi breathes in deep then, like his nervous system collectively seizes at the feeling of you so close. To give him room to breathe you stop short of settling all your weight onto him. Lips meeting once more, his hands greet your hips; his touch is warm, and timid, like you’re made of sand, like you might collapse and dissolve into immeasurable particles between his fingers.

He groans into your mouth. Murmurs your name. “This isn’t very productive,” he quips.

“Intellectually, no,” you agree, nails brushing the back of his neck. He has goosebumps. A ghost of a smile dancing on your lips, you slowly lower yourself down onto his lap; there are two layers of clothes between your bare skin but he is impossibly warm against you. “But what about physically?”

Luigi smiles, and fuck, he is too fucking beautiful. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And so you kiss him again and again and again, your heart doing backflips inside your chest when his big hands glide lower, and lower, thumb toying with the waistband of your skirt, and lower still, until he’s gripping your ass. You can’t help but nuzzle against the growing stiffness underneath you, poking between your thighs—and you definitely can’t help but love the way he grinds back, hips meeting yours with just as much enthusiasm. Fuck. About an hour ago you were working through polynomials and linear equations, and now the dreamiest guy you’ve ever met is hard for you, holding you in his lap. You might as well thank your professor.

When Luigi sucks at your bottom lip for a few euphoric moments, you make the most pathetic sound into his mouth, and he growls, his hands suddenly coming up to grasp your hips and hold them steady. “Was this your plan all along?” he rasps, his lips moving swiftly to the side of your face, your jaw, the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Sharp teeth graze skin and you whimper. “What do you mean?”

“What, now you’re playing coy?” Luigi finds the pulse point in your throat and bites, softly at first, then harder when your fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head. “You didn’t want to study. You called me because you wanted to get fucked, because you knew I’d want to touch you just like this, didn’t you?”

This boy is out of his mind. First he practically eye-fucks you while schooling you about imaginary numbers, and then he “scolds” you like he’s disappointed in your lack of interest in algebra, like he’s mad that you can’t resist him for being so damn gorgeous. That half-hearted meanness in his tone leaves butterflies in your stomach, in no way helped by the feeling of his tongue sliding over your collarbone.

“No,” you mutter. It’s not completely a lie. You really did need his help with the math, which he is really good at…but you can’t deny that you were really hoping you two would end up like this, with him kissing your neck all over until you’re speckled with purple and pink. You don’t even care about the obvious evidence of him on your skin—you want his entire dorm hall to know just how well-acquainted the two of you are by the time he’s done with you. The thought of everyone knowing you’re his makes you weak.

Luigi is kissing you again, slowly and deeply, one hand coming up to cup your breast through your shirt. His touch is too much and not enough simultaneously, your need overwhelming, and your hips are searching desperately for friction, rolling against him eagerly. So much for nonchalance.

He grasps your chin, firm but not at all painful, and flashes you that pretty smile, tutting, “I don’t believe you.”

Your mind is far too preoccupied with thoughts of his touch in other places to try to formulate a witty rebut. You opt instead to kiss him harder and sneak a hand between your bodies, tracing over his chest, down his carefully crafted abdomen, and then over the front of his shorts, groping his hard cock through polyester. Luigi groans into your mouth. He is big, almost intimidating, and imagining him inside of you has your body feeling hot all over.

As you palm the outline of his length through his trousers, his hands make their way underneath your sweater, the sudden warmth of him jolting through your torso. You look up at him through your lashes and he smirks.

“Do you want to sit on it?” he asks you, entirely stoic despite the weight of his words.

You kiss him, still squeezing his cock. “Can I put it in my mouth first?”

Fuck. You have him wrapped around your finger. How could he possibly say no when you ask so sweetly? Luigi is instantly pulling down his shorts for you, the rustle of fabric making your head spin. He’s left in just his boxers and a sweater that you quickly help him shrug off, too. Once you have him undressed, he takes a moment to survey you, your cheeks flushed, eyes lidded, hair tousled from his hands. You feel a surge of confidence now that you have his full attention and so you pull your top up and over your head, smiling when he reaches behind you to help you with your bra. He has it and your skirt off in just a few seconds, leaving your combined clothes to pile up next to the couch.

You shift so that you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, wearing only your panties, watching him watching you. He is grinning, his cock standing proud, and you know you must be blushing by the way his teeth flash from under the curve of his lips. You feel gooey and hot in the pit of your stomach. Swallowing your shyness, you reach forward to take him in your hand. He’s already sticky at the tip, precum glistening on his slit, and so you begin to stroke him, starting at the head of his dick and spreading slick down his shaft. His cock is probably the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen, at the very least a runner-up for his face: tan and thick, his girth evenly distributed, and big enough to have you feeling your heartbeat between your legs. There is a prominent vein along the underside of him, ending at his frenulum. He pulses with each movement of your hand.

Once he’s as wet as you like, you come closer to tease him with your tongue, licking up the base, tracing his vein, passing over his slit. Luigi groans—“fuuuuuck, baby,”—and threads his fingers into your hair, tugging hard.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” he rasps. “You asked for this. Show me what that mouth can do.”

Your lips are halfway wrapped around the head of him and when you moan at his words it vibrates through him, his abs flexing deliciously. You move further down, then, mouth closed around his length, applying light pressure on your way back up. He’s too big to take all of him at once and so your left hand grasps the length you can’t reach, pumping gently. You start a subtle, easy rhythm, evenly paced and obviously satisfying enough to have Luigi panting and swearing above you: your mouth starts at his tip, sucking gently, then gliding lower, until you can feel him in the back of your throat and you’re nearly gagging on him—and then you move upward again, cheeks hollowing around him, finally reaching the head of him once more. Rinse and repeat. It is organized. Formulaic. Your process leaves you practically drooling on his cock, spit collecting at the base where you are stroking him. Fuck. You haven’t pleased a guy like this in quite a while, and under any other circumstances you’d probably feel a bit insecure about your work; but it’s difficult to justify any doubts you might have, what with the noises coming from above you:

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby, yes, just like that, fuck yes,” Luigi moans, fingers knotted tightly in your hair. “Oh my god, your mouth…”

You slip your free hand into your panties, middle and ring finger rubbing your clit.

As your ministrations intensify, his reactions do, too. You can feel his thighs and hips tensing in an effort not to fuck into your throat. But you made a promise to yourself; you want to take the entirety of his length in your mouth before all of this is over, and so you move your left hand down to his balls, kneading him and carefully lowering your face until your nose is pressed into the curly hairs of his groin, his cock as deep as it can reach. And Luigi keens, head thrown back against the couch, one hand in your hair and the other gripping the armrest tight. You can feel him twitching in your throat.

There are a few blissful moments of you sucking him just like this, sinking him deep into your throat and pinching your lips around his tip, and you almost wish the two of you were recording because the sounds he makes are top tier jerk material for at least the next few months. He’d be a natural on camera. You want to commit every second of this to your memory.

When he goes quiet for a moment you open your eyes to look at him. You find him staring down at you, mouth agape. “Are you touching yourself?” he asks.

It’s difficult to answer with his dick in your mouth, so you settle for moaning around him again, eyes fluttering shut.

“Holy fuck,” he grunts, his voice sweeter than sugar.

You could sit here sucking him off for the rest of your life—you could die with his dick in your mouth—but you regrettably begin to feel your jaw aching, knowing full well that keeping this up will have you hurting. Not that you really mind. When you begin to sputter and tear up around him, he grabs both sides of your face and pulls your mouth off of his cock. You are crying, just a little, crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks, your throat raw.

Luigi looks down at you sweetly. “Oh, baby,” he coos, wiping your wet face dry with his thumbs. “That’s my perfect girl. So good to me. Come here.”

He welcomes you back onto his lap with open arms and a smile. He is warm, so warm and soft against you, you could fall asleep just like this. But he is kissing you now, so slowly that you feel dizzy, and so you ground yourself, fingers embracing his curls. His hands move to your hips, grasping the waistband of your panties, teasing you, rubbing the fabric against your heat. When he finally has them off his fingers are instantly examining you, collecting your slick, slipping through your folds.

“Let’s see about a little reward for you, hm?” he whispers, capturing your lips with his.

You kiss him eagerly and arch your back so that your thighs spread wide enough for his fingers to enter you with ease—not that it would be difficult without, considering that you’re so wet you can hear him touching you, even over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears. Two long digits move inside of you, stretching you, massaging that spot that makes your knees buckle and your eyes cross, plus a few more that you never knew existed. His touch feels so good, just how you imagined, and you have to lean forward into the crook of his neck to keep yourself upright, your teeth sinking into a firm shoulder. Luigi makes a gruff sound, almost a chuckle, and his cock jumps at your whiny, choked noises when he adds a third finger into your pussy.

“So needy, aren’t you?” he teases. “Have you been thinking about this, gorgeous? About sucking my cock and taking my fingers like this?”

You nod, because of course you have. In that exact order. Who wouldn’t?

Luigi smiles at you, soft and adoring. You make a curious sound and his fingers depart from you, lingering at your entrance until you grind down into his lap. Your cunt brushes against him, raw, hungry, slathering his cock with your slick.

“I want you,” you whine, grabbing his face and kissing him again. “I want all of you.”

“Yeah, baby?” His hands are guiding your hips, moving you slowly against him. “Tell me about it.”

Well, you would, if your brain weren’t short-circuiting at the moment. His fault. You mumble into his ear, something about infinity, something about the way you hug your pillow at night and all the times you’ve fucked yourself stupid thinking about this very image of you and him together like this. But there are countless words for your endless feelings, words you would preach to him from high places if your body had the agency to; your attraction to him is primal, but neatly arranged, layered, wrapped up with variables galore and multiplying with each moment you spend in his presence. A mess, no doubt about it, but one you can control, a tangle to unravel, an equation to solve. Nothing less. You aren’t sure of how this ends but you know that you need him, bad, more than you knew was possible before.

You crash into him, mouths colliding, everything that you left unsaid spilling into your embrace. Words are hard. Kissing Luigi and grinding your warm, throbbing cunt against him takes much less brainpower.

He is speaking to you when you pull away: “Baby, just a second, wait right here, let me get something.” Gently you are pushed from his lap and he disappears into his room momentarily, leaving you waiting, alone, aching for him, until he rounds the corner again with a familiar foil packet, finding his way back to the couch and sweeping you on top of him once more.

“Hi. Sorry.” And now he is fully yours.

You whine and wiggle against him the second the condom is on.

“Shh,” Luigi whispers, “I got you, ‘s okay, gorgeous. Gonna take good care of you, yeah? Don’t you worry. Gonna give you just what you need, baby.”

The tip of his cock is pressing into you, then, slowly easing himself inside, and fuck, he fits just right, fills you up perfectly, has you seeing stars already. The sound you make when he bottoms out is a hop, skip, and a jump away from pornographic. Luigi purrs underneath you.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know.” His hand slides down to grip your ass, spreading you, and from this angle you can feel just how much he stretches you out. And then, as he begins to roll his hips: “My sweet girl, working so hard, can’t even think for yourself, can you, beautiful? That’s okay, baby. I can do all the thinking for you, you just sit back and let me work it out for you, yeah? Don’t think. Just let me please this pussy.”

It’s like he’s trying to kill you. Every single word he says into your ear shoots straight to your cunt, the mere sound of his voice so near you electrifying. He’s deep, and with your thighs spread wide like this you just have to take advantage of the perfect angle to rub your clit against him. You can’t help but squeal into the crook of his neck each time his hips ram up into you, thighs clapping against your ass; by the way his muscles tense you assume it must take much of his energy, and yet he pounds you like you weigh nothing in his lap, exerting himself like it’s a cakewalk so long as he can watch your face shrivel up with overwhelming delectation. You can tell that he loves it when you tug his hair or bite him, and so you do it every chance you get, just in case your hushed utterances in his ear fail to make your message clear enough:

“Luigi, fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, oh, fuck…”

As he paces himself Luigi wraps his strong arms around you, one caging your waist and the other pulling tight at your hair. Your neck is arched and exposed, leaving him free to smother his love all over you in sharp, uneven hickeys. You needed this, so, so bad, and you tell him exactly that, chanting thank you, thank you, thank you and holding him tight.

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. “You can have whatever you want with me. Anything.” His lips meet yours, fleeting, and then, with the slightest hint of a grin: “You earned this, baby.”

You groan directly into his ear. It’s straight from your dreams, you think, like you’ve been swept from your bed in the midst of the night and dropped right here, in the lap of the sweetest, smartest, most handsome boy you’ve ever so much as looked at, bouncing on his cock while he kisses you like you’ll float away if he lets go. The two of you work together to heighten each other’s inevitable undoing, like a function of sorts; Luigi pushes and you push back, meeting his hips every time, your clit brushing against him just right, and him breaching unknown depths of you, hands roaming, learning you inside and out.

“My sweet girl,” he grabs your face and rests his forehead against yours, driving into you with precision. “This is all yours, baby.”

Sweat starts to gather at his hairline and you can feel him shuddering in your arms. Kissing him, you press down on his toned chest, pinning him against the couch, and Luigi is practically singing for you, little grunts and babys and murmurs of your name traveling through your ears and echoing in your mind. You want this to last forever. His hips slow to a stop when you begin to move on your own; you raise yourself up, resting all your weight on your knees, with him sliding out of your cunt until just the tip is still inside—and then you drop down, letting him sink back into you quickly, slick and smooth, his cock so deep you can nearly feel it in your stomach.

Fuck. You love this. You love the way his hands grip your ass, your thighs, rubbing your back, moaning your name and kissing behind your ear. You love the way he looks at you. The pupils of those dark eyes are blown wide, watching you move, worshipping how your tits bounce, the gyration of your hips, the blush of arousal all over you, your bottom lip wedged between your teeth. The sounds of sex and the shameless way he takes in every feature of your body have you feeling hot and ready to burst. You moan his name, drawn out and raspy.

“Yes,” Luigi groans. “You’re so pretty on top of me.”

Even through the haze of your pleasure you smile at his praise. He is telling you everything, every single thought that passes by in his mind, as if there will be no proof of how good he fucked you once you leave his dorm, as if every word will dissipate into thin air and leave you waiting, unsatisfied, hanging on the edge: “You take it so well, baby, my sweet girl, so perfect, so perfect just for me.”

His big hands are all over you. One cups your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth, with the other splayed over your hip. You start to feel dizzy, anxious for his attention, a little bit crazy. Close. Luigi must notice the way your eyes screw shut and your pussy squeezes him tight, because his hand moves down your chest, over your stomach, and then to your clit, circling his fingers with purpose. He wishes—almost—that you were beneath him, so that he could replace his hand with his mouth, trace down your body with his lips and bring you to your very edge with his tongue, over and over again, until you’re begging him to stop.

He settles instead for kissing you, hard, slowly, lingering. “You have no fucking idea how bad I’ve been wanting this, baby.”

You nod, moaning, “yes, yes, me too,” your noises pained and rough in your throat.

The way his cock slams into you with each movement of your hips is ruthless, bruising; he’s kissing you so sweetly and you can feel your climax churning in your abdomen, rippling through you. It knocks the air from your lungs. Sex with him hurts so good. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

“Gonna come,” you huff. There are fingernail-sized dents in his skin. “Gonna come for you.”

Luigi nods, whispers, “good girl, such a good girl,” and circles his fingers over your clit as fast as he can manage.

You tense around him at that. You can’t even count how many times you’ve come imagining those very words whispered in your ear by the very man that you’re riding right now.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Yeah? You like that? You like being a good girl for me?”

You nod wildly, and everything feels so real all of a sudden, like you’ve been floating mindlessly in space and you are crashing down into reality. His teeth dig into the sensitive skin of your neck and his hips start to pump again and by the time he’s meeting your thrusts you’ve had enough, thighs shaking, and he starts moaning into your ear so that you know he’s right there with you, and fuck, he’s really trying to kill you—

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. A 5’11, dark haired and brown eyed muscle truck that looks at you like you are the only good thing left in the world.

For a moment there is only your deep panting and his equally spent breaths as the both of you rest, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, yours combing through his sweat-soaked curls. The dorm is quiet, calm, almost with an air of innocence, completely unswayed by the heady aftermath of what the two of you just did right there on the couch. You lean back and look into his eyes, brooding and trained entirely on you. And he has that stupid grin on his face, the one that gives both of you away for good, the one that screams we’re not the only ones who know what we’ve been up to.

You want to kiss it right off of his beautiful, beautiful face. But right now you just sigh, lean into his shoulder, and let him hold you tight. Tonight you will walk back to your dorm, all the way on the other side of campus, where your roommates will be waiting for you, likely getting ready for bed. You will walk inside and they will watch you without a clue as to whose hands have been on you, whose name has been on your lips, whose cock has been buried to the hilt inside of you for the past hour. Your legs will be aching—you are sure of it.

Your roommates will ask you, “how’d it go?”, completely unaware of what your wobbly smile really means, how you really spent your time with your cute tutor.

And you will respond, “oh, great,” with a barely masked giggle. “I’m gonna ace my test tomorrow.”

^ dividers by cafekitsune

[jjjjisun]

Early Access: Snap Decisions (Leeseo Incest Fic)

It is now available for early access here. This might be the longest smut I did—god, it's 30k+ words.

Might also be the best so far? Hmmm.

I've added a teaser sneak peek below.

....

His fumbling fingers typed of their own volition:

[Not in a million years… You do look beautiful in that like I thought you would baby. even though you might as well be wearing nothing.]

When her phone finally buzzed almost thirty minutes after she'd sent the photo, Leeseo jumped in bed. She couldn't hope to fall asleep; her drunken-self was simply too anxiety-ridden about how her dad would respond to the message she sent.

His response floored her. Like before, she had to read it over almost five times before she was sure she hadn't taken it the wrong way. Her lithe little body buzzed with excitement - her thumping heart, the butterflies in her stomach, and a needy little tingle beneath her bottoms. There was only one appropriate response to her dad's message…

~So… this would be out of the question then?~ said the words that appeared on Jae's screen before he swiped his finger to open the message.

If he had been floored before, this time Jae couldn't contain himself. He told the taxi to stop immediately - he needed some air. The driver obviously thought his passenger was about to hurl as Jae overpaid him by about $20 nearly a mile short of their destination and bounded out of the car to the sidewalk.

He stared down at the image, putting his face entirely too close to the screen. Leeseo was on the bed as before, but she had turned sideways and there was something significantly different about her clothing.

The tiny white bottoms she'd been wearing were halfway down her thighs and her legs were tucked underneath her. She was perched on the bed and only a perfectly placed shadow concealed the most unholy place a father could ever see of his own offspring. Likewise, her bra had been unclasped, and the arm that wasn't snapping the photo of her was all that held it in place on her unbound breasts.

Whether he would have admitted it to himself while sober or not, Jae looked at the photo with more lust than he could recall ever feeling towards his wife or any other woman. This wasn't just him hungering for her over some online posts she didn't even know he'd seen. It wasn't Jae silently admiring how his daughter looked in her cheerleading outfit or swimsuit. Leeseo had sent HIM a photo directly - one so seductive and entrancing that he couldn't tear his eyes from it. He couldn't withhold his desire for her. She was an adult now, she always reminded him, and this was his gorgeous, adult daughter teasing him with more of her body than he ever hoped to see.

And yet, Jae was still, above all things, a father. He couldn't just send back what he might have if Leeseo wasn't his own little girl - 'why don't you take it all off and wait for me to get home,' or something like that. He kept it together as best he could.

[Dear God Leeseo, you're going to give me a heart attack at 38! I swear you are in so much trouble if that photo goes anywhere but my phone!]

This message came back to her sooner, she was immensely grateful.

~Don't worry daddy, for your eyes only…~

[Good. Now quit tormenting me and get some sleep, my beautiful daughter.]

Once again, her body begged for attention. It wasn't hard for her to come to the realization that the attention she wanted that night was from the man she was sending naughty pictures to. Maybe it was just the booze talking, but she couldn't get the fantasy out of her mind that her dad might barge in and help her take the dangling lingerie off the rest of the way.

He didn't send anything else, and neither did Leeseo. Jae was afraid of what he might say. The two pictures and words weighted with taboo and desire were enough for that night. He didn't need to bring his phone into the bathroom with him as he showered off the smell of the bar; Jae knew every inch of his daughter's body well enough to imagine that she was right there next to him.

With the steamy-hot water of the shower cascading over him, and the erection that had existed since first opening Leeseo's message, Jae soon found himself stroking himself up and down. With his eyes closed, he imagined his teenage daughter just as she had been in the photo - just as she likely was in her room nearby… just as she wanted him to.

Likewise, Leeseo fidgeted about in bed, rubbing her legs together against the covers and thinking of her father in ways she knew she wasn't supposed to. After she heard him come home and regrettably not come in to kiss her goodnight, Leeseo simply couldn't help herself. She kicked her covers down furiously and pulled her bottoms all the way off.

While Jae pretended it was his daughter's hand stroking him instead of his own, or perhaps something naughtier, Leeseo firmly rubbed her clit and dreamed it was her father's fingers upon her. Her young pussy was already dripping wet, and when she began to rub it, the slick sound of her fingers moving needily were present in the room.

If he were to merely walk a few steps over to the bedroom across the hall, Jae knew what could be in store for him. His knees spasmed just thinking about what he and his daughter might accomplish together.

If Leeseo were to merely text her dad that she needed him to come to her room, she could allow him to find her the way she was now - knees up on the bed and in perfect position for him to do any number of things she could beg him to.

The two of them masturbated with unstoppable lust, unknown to each other but knowing they'd started something forbidden and undeniable between them. Leeseo's back arched, her hips lifting off the bed and her fingers moving relentlessly over her pussy while she struggled not to scream. Her father's body tensed and his head rolled back, feeling orgasm wrack him.

It was so bad, and she knew it, but nothing had ever made her cum harder than she did that night. Leeseo had to roll over to the other side of the bed and change her sheets in the morning because she made such a wet, naughty mess thinking of her dad that night. With a twinge of shame and a refusal to shake his baby from his thoughts, Jae held his hand firmly at the base of his cock, imagining it buried deeply while he ejaculated an impressive amount to the shower floor. His head found his pillow with surprising relief, feeling the alcohol lull him into a deep sleep.

...

[sturniolosass]

Quiet. - Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt are bored of the movie you’re watching and a few things go down… including the bed frame being broken

-based on this post i made a few days back..

Warnings: smut, swearing, choking, biting, Dom!Matt, Sub!reader…etc.

[You and Matt had been together for a while now, around seven months to be exact.

Tonight Matt had decided to invite you over something you’re always down for. But as of now you we being somewhat ignored while he played a couple games of fortnite with his friends.. Chris included]

Readers POV

Unfortunately I couldn’t help but become more and more bored by the second… wishing he’d get off the game and give me more attention.. Something I felt too bad to admit considering he’s always getting off the game when I’m around… Eventually (after 2 hours) I got fed up with just sitting around in the background so I decide to grab a extra chair from the Dinning area and sit next to him

Upon sitting the chair down Matt looks up at me and smiles.. only a quick glance so he could assess my facial movement hoping I wasn’t as mad as I seemed.. I just look at the screen..

After around 5 minutes i start to focus on the way his hands are moving.. super fast.. over the keys he pressed so delicately, it turned me on, fast.. “shut the fuck up pussy” Matt shouts at a player he killed.. I could slowly feel my pink underwear get soaked, an extra large T shirt Matt had given me keeping me from staining the chair..I slowly run my hands down to my underwear to check if i’ve made a mess on the chair, hoping Matt doesn’t catch me when my hands between my legs.. I remove my hand quickly after realizing I’ve made a nice sized puddle on the seat running to my bag I grab a clean pair of underwear and rush out to the bathroom.. Not even thinking of the puddle on the chair..

I return from the bathroom and am immediately greeted with darkness.. I was confused for a second until i hear Matt, “come over here” he speak from his bed in the darkness.. “Did you get off the game? why is it dark.” i ask still confused.. “just come here” he spouts. I climb in the bed with my two knees, immediately sweep off them and laid flat on the mattress.. Matt above me with my wrists pined down with his hands.. “you made a huge mess on my chair..” He spoke leaning down directly in my ear.. “ how am i supposed to clean that” he added

“i didn’t mean to..” i spoke… “he turns his head.. “hmm what was it? what got you all worked up” he asks one hand trailing down my stomach to reach for my pussy… “i-it was.. you playing the game.. well—your fingers specifically.. they really made me hot..” i reply lightheaded.. “is that so? what about them?” he asked pushing his hands in my underwear slowly “was it? my hand on the mouse or the keys? or was it how fast you correlated it to me holding you down and rubbing your pussy” he questioned hand reaching my hole, eventually diving in with two fingers.. I couldn’t reply, too stunned to speak as he pushed his fingers further lathering them up in my juices, he pulls his hand out sucking both fingers.. pulling my underwear down from underneath me..

Kissing down my stomach as he yanked them down.. arriving at my area placing a soft kiss almost as a sign of respect due to the fact that he’s about to devour the poor thing.. Face immediately digging in causing me to spur a few profanities “oh fu-shit- Matt” i moaned, as his tongue run up and down on my clit, sucking and slobbering all over it.. “please Matt” i beg, worried I’d make a even bigger mess than before on the chair.. He just continues to eat me out, licking in somewhat of a figure eight formation.. moaning in between every one of my moans..

Coming closer to my climax i can’t help but grab his head pushing him deeper in my ocean, tongue diving deeper than the titanic, as i begin to orgasm i start to cream, him sliding two fingers in and out of me as his tongue does the two step on my flit sends me into over drive.. In less than two minutes I’m finishing, him still pumping two fingers in and out as he smiles up at me, gorgeous blue eyes staring in my soul

Rising over me and pulling my legs down he looks me in my eyes causing me to get more wet by the minute. He leans down closer to my neck kissing down to my collar bones, “Matthew please just fuck me” I beg not being able to take his soft lips kissing all over me.. wanting for him to just be inside me already.. “i’m going as fast as i can love..be patient.” he speaks finally making it to my nipple, sucking it him between his teeth immediately, rolling his tongue around it like a lollipop, he then grabs my waist pulling himself down closer to me.. his warm body hovering over me.. he releases my nipple “are you ready love?” he asks staring up at me from my boobs “yes matt please! i-I need you!” i beg in to which he pulls his pants down his ankles and off his legs.. He positions himself to my hole, mesmerized by the juices flowing out. “ok” he smiles and slides in for the first thrust, his hands gripping his headboard above me, “aghh-Ma-you’re so big oh my-“ i moan feeling every inch of him enter me.. being shadowed by his arm hanging from the bedpost.

He continues to thrust deeper and deeper in me, brushing that spot each time “oh f-fu-Matt” i stammer. “look at me?” he tells “huh” i react unable to keep my eyes open.. “look at me, i wanna see you cum, i wanna be the last time you think of when you climax” he asks thrusting in and out in such a quick pace.. eventually i hear a crack.. unbothered by it he continues to stroke deep gripping the bed frame tighter and tighter with each thrust, becoming deeper and deeper with each stroke..

“FUCK” he moans almost as a shout.. “ouu- matthew..fuck me..goodness” a few moans utter from my breathless mouth.. I can feel myself arching my back as i let my orgasm take over me. “MATT-fuck” i scream in to which he grabs my face preventing me from screaming any louder.. I can feel him begin to increase his pace looking in my eyes “yeah, i know baby” he says “cum for me” he adds.. “just like that” he says as he pushes me to orgasm..

I watch his face contort as his thrust get violent, getting closer to his high. eyes closing as he lets out the breathiest moans “o-oh fu-ck, shi- god you feel like heaven” he breathes. eyes rolling back, and just then that’s when i hear the bed frame crack, both of us falling 20 inches to the floor, mattress and bed cot underneath us, matt still inside me. He hurriedly gets up “are you ok? are you ok?” he stammers worriedly sliding out of me and hopping off the bed “i’m ok im just on the floor” i laugh from the angle im looking up at him.

He then helps me up and stands there thinking of a way to fix his bed, now on the floor.. He decides to remove his bed frame completely for the time being.. “Can you sit over at the desk?” he asks looking at me with a concerned look.. I just laugh and walk over and sit in his chair grabbing his rob from the hook on his door. He then pulls on a pair of basketball shorts before lifting the bed up off the ground leaning it against the wall then grabbing each panel one by one taking them down to the garage..

I just decide to hop in the shower..

Once i’m out the shower i come back in the room for the second time to see Matt sitting on his bed, that is now on the floor completely made up with no bed frame.. “I didn’t know what else to do.. I can order a new one tomorrow” he states.. “haha ok, what are we gonna tell Chris and Nick” I laugh thinking of all they’d have to say… “I don’t know..Nothing for now” he chuckles.. I just hop into the bed.. “your TV is up wayyyy too high now” i laugh at his TV mounted to the wall. “stop- i’m gonna have a bed frame!!” he whines jokingly.

3 hours later…

You hear Chris and Nick in the hallway talking about a fortnite game they were playing which spikes Matt’s attention. He hops up and runs out the room..

Minutes later you hear Matt nearing the bedroom door talking to Chris.. They both enter the room in a rush to what i’m assuming is get to the fortnite launch.. “Yo what the fuck-what happened to your bed” Chris states, Nick walking in behind them.. he gives you a funny disgusted look walking out the room “You both are nasty- oh my god” he fake gags. Matt and I both look to eachother. Chris shaking his head in disapproval “i can’t believe that’s what i was hearing earlier” “I need to go” He adds walking out the room and down the steps to his. “NICK ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE” I yell.. “GIRL BYE” He shouts back from the steps leading to his room making his way up the stairs so they can all get on the game.

You and Matt just giggle with eachother before he puts his headset back on…

De End 🧌

A/N: aye i wrote this as fast as i could for yall,so you know… my bad if it isnt “perfect”, also idk if i should’ve had a tag list but.. idk lmk if yall wanna be on a tag list.. also btw message me yalll!! I BE BORED!!

[mattslilies]

Early Release - M.S.

"that was fast, sweetie." or... the one where matt cums sooner than you'd expect. warnings: inexperienced!sub!matt, virgin!matt, nerd!matt, dom!reader, dry humping, cumming in boxers, no actual p in v, making out, more to be added as i write word count: 608 a/n: i do not own inexperienced/nerd matt!! this is just a thought based on his cutie little fit.

you loved how innocent matt was. he wasn't just a virgin, he'd never even touched himself before he met you. he just didn't know what to do with himself, never even thinking about the sexual aspect of his life, always buried in his textbooks and assignments. that was, of course, until you came along.

you'd always been fascinated with the boy, talking to your friends about just how cute he looked, glasses pushed up his nose, messy hair from his hands running through it while studying, a consistent work ethic and drive for his education. it was honorable, honestly.

you'd been infatuated with him for a long time before you approached him the first time, taking the book he was working with and closing it, starting up a conversation. you'd been obsessed with the way his cheeks flushed, he stuttered over his words, clearly nervous to be speaking to you.

you'd taken him out shortly after, taking the lead with your first date to him time to grow his confidence while around you. it hadn't taken long for him to ask you to be official, nervousness shaking his body as he waited for your answer, which came in the form of a passionate kiss, leaving him a little starstruck.

throughout your relationship, you loved to tease him. it was one of your favorite things. you hadn't taken his virginity from him yet, although knowing he wanted you to, you wanted to play with him a little more, stretch it out.

you were currently seated on his lap, holding his face in your hands as you ground your hips against his. his glasses were pushed up on his head, his hair ruffled and messy, lips glossy with spit and swollen from the makeout you'd had earlier.

"you look so pretty under me, baby."

you punctuated your words with a forceful roll of your hips forward, listening to the whine leave his lips. you continued speaking, knowing it was driving him even more crazy.

"i love having you like this, honey. it's my favorite thing, having such a pretty boy whimpering underneath me."

leaning down to whisper in his ear, you could feel just how hard he was against you, bulge straining against his shorts.

"i love ruining your innocence, baby."

he let out a moan as your words hit him like a slap, the overwhelming combination of your dirty words and grinding on him causing him to shake, his climax rippling through him much quicker than either of you expected. you grinned, moving your hips against him until he had ridden out all the shockwaves.

"that was fast, sweetie."

he whined, hiding his face in your chest, embarrassment flooding him. he may be inexperienced, but he knew from overhearing conversations that finishing fast wasn't something a lot of people like in a partner. however, you found it endearing.

"it's okay, honey, i think it's cute. i love making you feel so good you just can't control yourself."

you rustled his hair, sliding off of his lap and letting him lean against you.

"let's get you cleaned up, hm? that mess of yourself you made can't be comfortable."

you giggled at the furious blush that spread across his cheeks, the inability to look you directly in the eye as you got him off of the couch.

"we can take a shower to clean you up, maybe i'll even suck you off if you'd like..."

you trailed off your words as you walked out of the room, already removing your shirt. you grinned as you heard him quickly move behind you.

yeah, stripping all his innocence was going to be fun.

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[azrielsdove]

Best Friend’s Brother: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Kinda Mean Az?

***

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Cassian teased you, peering over his glass as he drank. You rolled your eyes, throwing back the rest of your own drink.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, adding more liquor to your cup. Cassian laughed, shaking his head at you.

“You’re blind if you don’t notice the way he looks at you, anyway.” You stilled at his words, eyes glaring daggers into him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wouldn’t allow yourself the naivety to imagine Azriel felt the same way you did. You had only become a part of the Inner Circle a few years ago, after you accidentally took Rhys down thinking he was a danger. He had been so impressed with you that he immediately offered you a security position and set you up to train under his General and Spymaster. Cassian and you were fast friends, but Azriel left you confused. He rarely spoke to you and passed most of the training off to Cass. Everything he did screamed that he couldn’t care less about you.

Unfortunately, you were enthralled by him.

The few times he did train you were treasured memories, the feel of his hands on your waist as he corrected your position, the way his eyes looked over your body to ensure proper hold. At one of your recent sessions he had tackled you to the ground, hips pinning yours to the sand underneath you. You had allowed him to think your lack of speech was due to shock that he had taken you down so easily, and not because you were going delirious with desire. You had taken a rather long bath after that morning.

“Oh sure, yea, why would I know the male i’ve spent 500 years with? You’re right, you must know him better than I. I apologize, O Great One, for daring to assume.” Cassian mock bowed to you, smirking at your glare. “I know a way to prove it to you.” You hated how he piqued your interest.

“Pray tell, dear friend,” you said, carefully filling your rapidly emptying glass again. You enjoyed the way the drink made your mind fuzzy, the endless thoughts of why Azriel could barely stand you numbed. Cassian leaned closer towards you, a wicked smile on his face.

“Come to training extra early tomorrow. Wear your tightest leathers, the ones from when you first got here.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Those stick to my body like a second skin. I’ll look like a pleasure hall whore wearing them.” You didn’t appreciate the way Cassian looked at you, eyes shining proudly.

“That’s what I intend. I’d never lead you astray, would I?” He raised his hand in surrender immediately after he spoke, shaking his head. “Not about anything like this, I promise.” You knew it was a bad idea to agree to whatever plan he was making, but you found yourself nodding and hoping you weren’t going to regret this in the morning.

***

A low whistle met you as you walked into the training ring early the next morning. “Damn, you look even better than I imagined. If this weren’t to get the attention of my brother i’d try to convince you down to my room.” Cassian looked approvingly over you as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

“If your plan fails, I may as well take you up on that. Gods know it’s been too long.” You often played into Cassian’s endless flirting, a key reason as to why your friendship developed so fast. He was right, the leathers were tighter than you had expected as well. You weren’t as toned when you began training. They are already made to fight directly to your body, so pulling on ones from a size ago was almost impossible. Still, you managed to buckle them around you, admiring yourself in the mirror. The leather truly hugged your skin, enhancing your strong thighs and body. “What is your plan, by the way?” You asked, looking suspiciously at Cassian.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Your jaw dropped at his statement as his laughter floated over the training ring. “Don’t look at me like that! Imagine it, Az comes up here and sees you like that, with me? He’s going to be so jealous I won’t be surprised if he has his way with you right here.” You felt your face heat at his vulgarity, shaking your head quickly.

“No way. No way. What if he instead thinks, oh I dunno, that we are together?” You point out, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Trust me when I tell you that he won’t.” Cassian took a step closer to you, holding out his hand. “I am not as dumb as you may think.” You sighed, reluctantly placing your hand in his and letting him lead you over to the side of the ring. You may as well attempt his plan, however ridiculous you think it is. He places a hand on your waist as he pulls you close to him, the other coming up to cup your face. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

You shook your head, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “What do I have to lose? If it doesn’t work, at least I got to spend my morning with a handsome male,” you quipped, winking dramatically at him. You felt his laugh under your hands, the nerves of what you were about to do calming down. This was Cassian, your best friend. You could trust him.

He dipped his head down towards you, eyes locking onto yours once more to ensure you were okay with this. You pushed up on your toes and connected your lips, using the last little bit of confidence you had. Cassian’s hand slid to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he angled you up into him. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, enjoying how he so clearly knew what he was doing. You moved your arms up to lock around his neck, arching your body into his touch. He nipped at your bottom lip and you gladly opened your mouth to him, almost forgetting why you were doing this.

Almost.

Anticipation slithered up your spine and you forced your eyes to stay shut, even though you wanted to peek and see if Azriel had arrived yet. Cassian’s hand flattened across your back, pulling you tighter against him. You lost yourself in his kiss, allowing your body to relax into his hold.

Something cold and weightless tightened around your calf, pulling your attention away from Cassian as you looked down. Your heart was racing as you took in one of Azriel’s shadows, swirling anxiously around your ankles. Cass didn’t allow the little thing to distract from your plan, bringing his lips up and down the side of your neck. You tilted your head back to allow him more access, an embarrassingly needy noise slipping from your mouth when he nipped at your skin. The shadow spun faster around you, another one coming to wrap around your waist and tug you from Cassian’s grip. You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over more shadows behind you. “Wha-“ you began, cut off by a shadow wrapping around your throat. Cassian’s eyes widened and he glanced behind you, true fear on his face. That was certainly not comforting.

An arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against a strong chest. You forced your breathing to stay steady, realizing it was Azriel behind you. “Cassian,” he said slowly, “what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was quiet, but threat laced his words. Cassian paled, raising his hands in surrender.

“Now Az, let me just explain-“ You shook your head as best you could against the shadows hold, not wanting Cassian to embarrass you further. As if this could get any worse. You were going to murder him for this.

“Leave us. Now,” Azriel commanded Cassian, voice still dangerously calm. You couldn’t help but be a little worried as you watched your friend practically run out of the training area. If Cassian didn’t think he could deal with Azriel right now, what chance did you have?

The shadows disappeared from your body, but the arm around your waist only tightened. You repressed a shudder as you felt Azriel’s lips brush the tip of your ear, leaning down to whisper to you. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing?” You sucked in a breath, all confidence gone now that you were alone.

“I-I’m not playing a game,” you stuttered out, cursing Cassian in your head.

“Mhm,” Azriel said, his other hand coming to trace up and down your thigh. “You just happen to be dressed in these delightful things,” his hand slid between your legs, squeezing your inner thigh. “You show up extra early to practice, and I find you with my brother’s lips on your pretty little neck?” He ghosted his own over the same stretch of skin Cassian had kissed, a shiver running down your spine. “And to make it worse, I have to listen as you make that delicious noise for him?” He nipped your neck in the same spot as Cassian, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Hm, not quite.” His hand between your legs moved up, fingers finding you easily over the tight fabric. You bit your lip and tipped your head back as he circled your clit, the teasing pressure not nearly enough with your leathers in the way. “Look at you, already so reactive for me.” He pressed slow, hot kisses along your throat, his fingers continuing their almost perfect teasing.

“Az-“ You breathed out, arching into his touch. “It wasn’t, ah, it wasn’t real.” He chuckled darkly against your skin, his fingers pressing harder onto you.

“Oh, I know. I don’t take Cassian’s sloppy seconds.” His words were punctuated with a sharp bite under your ear, his teeth sucking in the skin there. You knew he was undoubtedly leaving a bruise, marking you as his. A rather embarrassing whimper left your lips, his fingers still punishing you over your leathers. “That’s more like it,” he groaned, biting a second spot on your neck. You have another helpless noise, enjoying the way it clearly affected him. “I’m going to make you cum, just like this. Do you understand?” He moved his fingers tight against you, playing you like an instrument he had trained for. His lips brushed against your ear again, sucking the lobe of it into his mouth. “I’m going to make you cry out my name, without ever truly touching you.” Heat rose in your cheeks at the humiliation of it. He was going to ruin you without any effort.

And you were going to let him.

You moaned his name as you felt the pleasure build in your core, pushing yourself harder against his hand. “I always knew you’d be so good for me,” he growled, a shadow angling your face towards him. You almost finished at the look in his eyes, his pupils blown wide as he worked you. “I want to look at you when you come undone for me.” You moaned again, trying desperately to lift your head up to kiss him. The shadow kept you in place, a slow smile spreading over Azriel’s face. “Not yet.” He leaned down enough that your lips were a breath away from his, but not any closer. You shook in his hold as the pleasure his fingers were bringing intensified, the teasing too much to bear.

“Azriel, please,” you gasped out, fighting against the shadow. You could feel yourself about to snap, legs quivering as you climbed that peak. He said nothing, only watching you with those stunning eyes of his as his fingers pushed you over the edge. You went rigid against him, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm took over. He kept working you through it, prolonging your pleasure as long as he could. He stopped when you collapsed in his arms, chest heaving as you sucked in air, trying desperately to come back down. He released you then, watching as you stumbled before turning to face him. His eyes drifted down your body, stopping on the wet spot he had made between your legs.

“I’d say you’re ready for training now.”

***

Here is a short little smutty piece for Azriel Baby <3. I might make this into a mini series 👀. I am still working on Pt.2 of Longing, I just hit a bit of a block and needed to get something else out!! I hope you enjoyed 🩷

[kpoplustzone]

What's wrong with Secretary Kim Smut part 1

Support me on Kofi by reading unreleased stories on Tumblr. There are many one-shots and ongoing series in Kofi-link

You can check the K DRAMA CAST to picture the character in your mind

Park Min Young as Kim Mi So (Secretary of Young Joon and his girlfriend)

Yoo Shik (Yeong Joon's long-time friend)

Yeong joon

Yoo Shik watched as Kim Mi So entered his office, her usual radiant smile absent, replaced by a furrow of concern on her delicate brow. She sat down in the chair opposite his desk, her movements lacking their usual brisk efficiency. The worry etched on her beautiful face was palpable, and Yoo Shik felt a pang of unease.

“Mi So-ssi, what’s troubling you?” he asked gently, his voice calm and reassuring.

Kim Mi So hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. When she finally looked up, her eyes held a deep worry that Yoo Shik rarely saw. “Director Yoo Shik… I… I noticed something… something on the president’s ankles the other day.”

Yoo Shik’s brow furrowed slightly. “On Young Joon’s ankles? What did you see?”

Kim Mi So took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “Scars… faint, but definitely there. They looked… like he had been tied up. Like something had been tightly bound around his ankles for a long time.” Her eyes searched Yoo Shik’s face, pleading for an explanation. “Yoo Shik sshi… do you know how he got those scars? Was he… was he hurt when he was younger?”

“Ultimately, Mi So-ssi, Young Joon has never spoken directly about how he got those scars to me. It’s a very personal matter, and he is a very private person. They may be from something entirely different, perhaps a childhood injury we can’t even imagine. What’s important is how he is now, and you’ve seen firsthand how much he has grown and changed, especially recently.” Yoo Shik gave her a warm, reassuring smile. “I understand your concern, Mi So-ssi, it speaks volumes about your care for him. But perhaps it’s best to let Young Joon share his past with you in his own time, if he chooses to do so.”

Yoo Shik casually strolled around Kim Mi So’s desk, a familiar glint in his eye. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs instinctively kneading the knots he knew would be there after a long morning. She leaned slightly into his touch, a small sigh escaping her lips – a silent acknowledgment of their usual after-hours dynamic bleeding into the workday. From this angle, he had his usual, privileged view of the enticing swell of her breasts beneath her office blouse. He knew every curve of her body intimately; the way her blouse strained just a little across her full bust, the elegant line of her waist, the subtle lift of her rear when she stood. She was, without a doubt, the sexiest woman he knew, and she was his. Her beauty, intelligence, and the way she submitted to him in private were an intoxicating combination.

He continued to massage her shoulders, his fingers slowly drifting downwards, a well-worn path in their secret encounters. Kim Mi So’s subtle relaxation deepened; she trusted his touch, knew where it was going. There was an unspoken anticipation in the air, a silent promise of what awaited them later. His hands finally reached the familiar curve of her breasts, resting just where the fabric of her blouse began to stretch. He could feel the soft resilience of her bra underneath, the warmth emanating from her skin. He pressed gently, his fingers knowing exactly how to mold to her shape. He felt the almost imperceptible shift in her breathing, a tell-tale sign of her arousal. It was a familiar dance, this clandestine intimacy in the office, a thrilling risk that only added to the excitement of their affair. He knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and these small touches were just the beginning of the fire that would undoubtedly ignite between them later

“Oppa,” Mi So said softly, her hand reaching up to gently cover his on her shoulder, “I’m really not in the mood right now. Director Park’s been causing so many headaches today…” But even as she spoke, her body betrayed her. His hand was still resting on the curve of her breast, right over her bra, and the way his fingers were gently kneading was sending little sparks of desire through her.

Yoo Shik didn’t stop his gentle massage, his thumb subtly pressing against her nipple through the fabric. “I know, Mi So-yah,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Just for a minute. It’ll help you relax.” His other hand moved to her other breast, mirroring the gentle pressure.

She tried to pull away slightly, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Really, oppa, not here. What if someone comes in?” But the truth was, even though she voiced her concerns, her body was starting to react in ways she couldn't control. His touch, the way his hands seemed to know exactly how to stimulate her even through her clothes, was overriding her initial reluctance.

A soft groan escaped her lips as his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot on her breast. The worry about Director Park seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the more immediate sensations he was igniting within her. Her nipples were hardening under his touch, and a familiar warmth was spreading through her lower abdomen.

“Just a little…,” she whispered, her voice now husky, her attempt to resist weakening with each passing second. His hands were doing magic, pure and simple. He wasn’t even touching her bare skin, but the way he was kneading and pressing, the knowing movements, were enough to make her want to lean back into his touch.

Her head tilted back slightly, and a soft moan slipped past her lips, this one louder than the last. Her body was definitely remembering all the times they had been together, the pleasure he knew how to give her. Despite her initial protest, every fiber of her being was starting to crave more. The tension she had felt from work was being replaced by a different kind of tension, a delicious, pulsing ache that only he could satisfy. Her body was becoming receptive, her earlier mood completely forgotten in the face of his skillful touch.

Ki Joon’s hands continued to knead Mi So’s breasts through the fabric of her blouse, his thumbs circling her already hard nipples. He watched her beautiful face, flushed with pleasure, her eyes slightly glazed over. Her other hand had instinctively moved down, her fingers now rhythmically rubbing her inner thigh, a clear sign of how turned on she was.

“You know, Mi So-yah,” Ki Joon murmured, his voice low and husky, “You call me ‘oppa’ all the time, especially when we’re alone like this.” He gave her breast a gentle squeeze. “But you never call Young Joon ‘oppa.’ Why is that, hmm?”

Mi So’s eyes fluttered open, a playful smirk touching her lips. “Oh, you’re jealous, oppa?” she teased, her hand on her thigh moving a little faster. “Don’t be. You know you’re my favorite ‘oppa’… for certain things.” She let her gaze drift down to his lap for a suggestive moment.

Ki Joon chuckled, his grip on her breasts tightening slightly. “You’re right. I know.” He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear. “But seriously, what’s so different about me?”

Mi So sighed contentedly as his thumb found her nipple again. “Well, for one thing,” she whispered back, her breath warm against his neck, “you’re the one who knows how to touch me like this.” Her hand on her thigh had now slipped under her skirt, her fingers teasing the wetness she could feel blooming there. “Young Joon-ssi… he’s different. Our relationship… it wasn’t ever like this.”

Ki Joon’s fingers slipped under the hem of her blouse, his bare skin now against her bra. He could feel the heat radiating from her. “So, Young Joon never made you moan like this?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness.

Mi So’s head tilted back, a soft groan escaping her lips as Ki Joon’s fingers found the clasp of her bra. “Never,” she breathed out. “He was… all about the work. You, oppa…” Her hand on her thigh was now definitely inside her panties, her fingers moving with increasing urgency. “You know exactly what I want.”

Ki Joon finally unhooked her bra, his hands now directly on her bare breasts. They were full and heavy, the nipples already pebble-hard under his touch. He gently squeezed and kneaded, savoring the feel of her soft skin. “And what exactly do you want right now, Mi So-yah?” he purred, his gaze intent on her face.

“Oh, you know,” she whispered, her eyes half-closed, her cheeks flushed. “You know I want you to keep touching me like this… right here in the office, where anyone could walk in.” Her fingers were now deep inside her, her thighs trembling slightly. “And maybe later… maybe later I’ll show you just how much I appreciate my favorite ‘oppa’ who knows how to make me feel so incredibly…” Her voice trailed off as Ki Joon’s thumb found her nipple again, sending another wave of pleasure through her. Her body in that tight office dress, the contrast of the professional attire with the blatant desire in her eyes, and the way she was touching herself, was driving him wild.

Yoo Shik moved from behind Mi So’s chair and knelt down right in front of her, his gaze locked on her beautiful face. He reached out, his hands gently framing her cheeks, his thumbs softly stroking her smooth skin. His eyes lingered on her lips, which were full and slightly parted, looking incredibly soft and inviting. He leaned closer, his breath warm against her mouth, and then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a gentle peck; it was a possessive claiming, his lips pressing firmly against hers. Mi So responded instantly, her earlier hesitation completely gone. Her lips parted further, and she sucked on his, her tongue darting out to meet his, tangling and swirling in a hungry dance. She made a soft, needy sound in the back of her throat, her hands instinctively reaching up to clutch his face, pulling him closer as if she couldn’t get enough.

Breaking the kiss, Yoo Shik’s eyes held a knowing smirk. “You remember that night, don’t you, Mi So-yah?” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “After your date with Young Joon? You came straight to my place, all worked up, wanting my thick, hard cock inside you.” He leaned in close again, whispering against her lips, “You were bouncing on it so hard, weren’t you? Screaming my name.”

Mi So let out a soft moan, her cheeks flushing even deeper. She remembered that night vividly. She had been confused and frustrated after her date, and Yoo Shik’s raw desire had been exactly what she needed.

Yoo Shik continued, his fingers now tracing the outline of her lips. “And what about that time at Young Joon’s house? The three of us together?” He chuckled softly, a suggestive sound that sent a shiver down Mi So’s spine. “You were such a little tease, weren’t you? Giving me that handjob in the kitchen, right there while Young Joon was just in the next room.”

https://www.reddit.com/r/kactress/comments/1k9q652/park_min_young/

Mi So’s breath hitched, and another moan escaped her, louder this time. The memory of that afternoon flooded back to her – the forbidden thrill of touching Yoo Shik so intimately, the risk of being caught by Young Joon, the heady mix of desire and nervousness. She had been so turned on that day, her fingers slick with her own precum even as she stroked Yoo Shik’s impressive member.

Yoo Shik’s gaze dropped to her lap. He could see the subtle dampness spreading on her office skirt, right where her thighs were pressed together. “You’re getting wet just thinking about it, aren’t you, Mi So-yah?” he said, his voice thick with arousal. “Your little pussy remembers how good my cock feels, doesn’t it?”

He brought his face close to hers again, kissing her deeply, his tongue plunging into her mouth. As they kissed, his hands roamed freely over her body, tracing the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts under her blouse, the narrowness of her waist. Mi So’s hands tightened in his hair, her body growing increasingly restless. She could feel the wetness between her legs intensifying, the sensation seeping through her panties, creating a warm, slick patch on her thighs.

“You were so eager for me that day,” Yoo Shik continued, breaking the kiss again, his eyes burning with lust. “You couldn’t wait for Young Joon to turn his back. You practically attacked my cock, didn’t you?” He traced his fingers down her throat, pausing at the top button of her blouse. “And the way you looked at me while you were doing it… all that pent-up desire in your eyes.”

Mi So’s head lolled back, her moans becoming more frequent and unrestrained. The memories Yoo Shik was evoking were so vivid, so intensely arousing. She could almost feel his cock in her hand again, the heat and thickness of it, the way it pulsed as she stroked him. And the memory of the risk, the sheer audacity of it, only amplified her current arousal.

Yoo Shik’s fingers finally unbuttoned the top few buttons of her blouse, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the lacy bra underneath. “You’re so beautiful, Mi So-yah,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on the exposed skin. “So incredibly sexy.” He leaned down and kissed the sensitive skin just above her bra, inhaling deeply. “You always come back to me, don’t you? No matter what happens with Young Joon.”

Mi So could only whimper, her body aching for his touch, for the release he knew how to give her. The wetness between her legs was now undeniable, a thick, slick heat that was soaking her panties and spreading down her thighs. She was completely lost in the moment, her thoughts consumed by the images Yoo Shik had painted, her body reacting with an intensity that surprised even her. She wanted him, right here, right now, all the talk and memories just serving to fuel her burning desire.

https://www.reddit.com/r/kactress/comments/1igxv88/park_min_young/

With a slow, deliberate slide, Yoo Shik’s fingers worked on the remaining buttons of Mi So’s blouse, one by one, until the fabric fell open completely. There she was, clad in a tight, lacy bra that looked like it was struggling to contain the fullness of her plump breasts. Her nipples were hard peaks, pressing against the delicate material, and he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she panted, her breath catching in her throat. Her fit body was on full display, the curves accentuated by the clingy fabric of her office attire underneath the open blouse.

Yoo Shik’s gaze drifted from her breasts to her flushed face, her eyes half-closed in a haze of arousal. A knowing smirk played on his lips. “Tell me, Mi So-yah,” he began, his voice low and seductive, “why is it that you say you love him… yet you crave my cock so desperately?” He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the outline of her bra. “Is he not enough for you? Does he not satisfy you the way I do?”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. “You remember that morning, don’t you, Mi So-yah? Not last night, but that morning after… well, after you and Young Joon had your time. You came straight to my office, all worked up, wanting my thick, hard cock inside you.” He leaned in close again, whispering against her lips, “I fucked you hard against this very office window, until your legs were shaking and you couldn’t take it anymore.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with a possessive intensity. “You could see him down there, heading into his meeting, and still, you were grinding your sexy ass against my cock, weren’t you?”

Mi So’s eyes fluttered open, her cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and intense arousal. She tried to speak, to deny his words, to offer some kind of explanation, but the words caught in her throat. “Oppa… that’s not… it’s not like that…” she stammered, her sentences trailing off, failing to form any coherent reason.

Yoo Shik chuckled softly, his fingers now slipping under the band of her bra, his bare skin making contact with the warm flesh of her breasts. “Isn’t it, Mi So-yah? Then tell me, what is it like? Why do you come to me, so eager, so insatiable, if he is truly the one you love?” He gently squeezed one of her breasts, his thumb teasing her hard nipple. “You moan my name, Mi So-yah. You arch your back for my touch. You beg me to fill you.”

He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from hers. “You remember how wet you were that morning, don’t you? How tightly you squeezed me inside you, right here against the glass? Anyone could have seen us, Mi So-yah, but you didn’t care, did you? You were too lost in the pleasure I was giving you.”

Mi So’s breath hitched, and a soft whimper escaped her lips. The memories he was evoking were so vivid, so incredibly arousing. She could feel the phantom sensation of his hard cock pounding into her, the cold glass against her back, the desperate gasps that had escaped her lips. It had been a morning filled with a desperate urgency, a raw need that she hadn't fully understood herself at the time, only that Yoo Shik's touch had been the only thing that could quell the storm within her.

“You can’t deny it, Mi So-yah,” Yoo Shik continued, his voice a low purr. “Your body tells the truth, even if your words try to lie.” He gently cupped both of her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples. “You crave me, Mi So-yah. You crave my touch, my cock, my… everything.”

Mi So tried to form a sentence, to offer some kind of resistance, but all that came out was another soft moan. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, her core aching with a familiar longing. The wetness between her legs was now undeniable, a thick, throbbing heat that spread through her panties. She looked up at Yoo Shik, her eyes filled with a conflict of emotions – a hint of guilt, a flicker of denial, but overwhelmingly, a deep, undeniable desire. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from his intense gaze, knowing that he saw right through her, saw the truth of her desires reflected in her flushed face and rapidly rising chest. Her attempts at denial were weak, almost pathetic, drowned out by the insistent throbbing of her body and the undeniable memories he had so vividly brought back to the surface. Her body knew what it wanted, and right now, that wasn’t Young Joon. It was Yoo Shik’s demanding touch, his possessive gaze, and the raw, unadulterated pleasure he knew how to deliver.

Deep down, in the quiet corners of her heart, Mi So truly loved Young Joon. He was her anchor, her confidant, the man who brought stability and laughter into her life. She was genuinely happy with him, building a future she had long dreamed of. But then there was Yoo Shik. He was a different kind of pull, a raw, primal craving that her body couldn't seem to ignore. It wasn't about deep emotions or shared dreams; it was about the electric touch of his hands on her skin, the hungry possessiveness of his kisses that left her breathless, the way his thick cock filled her so completely, stretching her in ways that left her trembling and aching for more.

Young Joon was sweet, considerate, but in the bedroom, he was still somewhat tentative, his inexperience showing. With Yoo Shik, it was different. He was divorced, worldly, a man who knew exactly how to touch a woman, where to kiss, how to make her body come alive with a pleasure that bordered on frantic. His hands roamed her body with a confident familiarity, his lips devoured hers with a hungry passion, and when he slid inside her, it was with a seasoned expertise that left her moaning and gasping for air. He knew all the right places to touch, the exact rhythm to move, the dirty words to whisper in her ear that sent shivers down her spine. It was a stark contrast to the gentler, more innocent intimacy she shared with Young Joon. Her heart belonged to one man, but her body, it seemed, had a mind of its own, a relentless yearning for the experienced touch and unrestrained passion that only Yoo Shik could provide.

With a final, smooth movement, Yoo Shik pulled Mi So’s blouse completely off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor in a soft heap. Her bra was gone too, and her bare breasts bounced into view, the sudden freedom making her gasp. There she was, just in her fitted office skirt, her full, plump breasts on full display. Mi So’s body was truly a vision – the soft curve of her shoulders, the enticing fullness of her breasts with their hard, eager nipples, the gentle slope of her stomach leading down to the hem of her skirt.

Yoo Shik still found it hard to believe that this confident, capable woman had been a virgin when he first touched her. Their relationship had started with a raw, undeniable physical attraction, a series of intense, no-strings-attached encounters. There had been no pretense of dating, no talk of the future. She loved Young Joon, that much was clear, but for Yoo Shik, he was perfectly content to be the man she came to whenever she craved unadulterated, mind-numbing sex.

https://www.reddit.com/r/KoreanCelebrityFap/comments/1f4pg1p/park_minyoung/

He leaned in and kissed her again, his lips finding hers in a hungry embrace. This time, his hands were free to explore the bare expanse of her chest. He cupped her breasts, savoring their weight and softness, his thumbs gently teasing her already erect nipples. Mi So moaned into his mouth, her body trembling under his touch. He could feel her nipples hardening even further, responding instantly to his attention. He flicked his tongue against her lips, and she opened her mouth wider, her own tongue meeting his in a passionate dance. All the while, his hands continued their sensual exploration of her breasts, kneading, squeezing, and stroking, driving her closer and closer to the edge of pure pleasure.

Leaving her lips, Yoo Shik trailed his kisses down Mi So’s fair, slender neck, his tongue flicking out to taste the sensitive skin there. She shivered under his touch, her head falling back slightly to give him more access. He could feel her pulse quickening beneath his lips. Reaching her breasts, he paused, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. Mi So’s body trembled again, her nipples tightening even further, begging for his touch.

He then took one of her full breasts in his hands, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh. His breath grew warmer as he exhaled directly onto her nipple, making it bead up and become even harder. Mi So let out a soft moan, her hands instinctively reaching up to grip his shoulders. She lifted her chest slightly, offering him an unspoken invitation. It was a clear signal – she wanted more, needed more. The movement caused her already generous breasts to push up even higher, their plumpness even more pronounced.

Yoo Shik didn’t hesitate. He lowered his head and gently licked one aching nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard peak. Mi So cried out softly, her body arching against his. He then moved to her other breast, repeating the tantalizing lick. Her moans grew louder, more desperate. She was so incredibly responsive, her body reacting to his every touch with an intensity that fueled his own desire.

Yoo Shik continued to lavish attention on Mi So’s breasts, his mouth a warm, wet playground for her aching nipples. He’d suck hard, then gently graze the sensitive skin with his teeth, eliciting sharp gasps and moans from her. He moved from one breast to the other, giving them equal attention, his hands cupping and squeezing the soft flesh as his lips and tongue worked their magic. The sounds of their pleasure filled the office – Yoo Shik’s satisfied sighs and Mi So’s increasingly desperate moans and groans. Luckily for their secret, the office doors were thick, and the early morning quiet outside meant no one was likely to overhear their illicit encounter.

Mi So was practically writhing on the small office sofa, her body arching and twisting as the sensations intensified. Her hands gripped Yoo Shik’s hair, sometimes pulling him closer, sometimes just tangling in the strands as she rode the waves of pleasure. “Oppa… oh, oppa…” she’d gasp, her voice thick with arousal, the only word she seemed capable of forming. Each suckle and lick sent shivers of delight through her, making her tremble uncontrollably. Her hips lifted slightly off the cushion, instinctively seeking more pressure, more friction. Her big boobs jiggled with her movements, their hard nipples brushing against Yoo Shik’s face as he continued his passionate assault. The air in the office felt thick with unspoken desire and the undeniable sounds of their escalating arousal.

Yoo Shik pushed himself up from the edge of the sofa, a sudden surge of desire making him restless. He shrugged off his suit coat and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Then, with a deliberate movement, he loosened his tie, the knot coming undone and the fabric falling slightly open at his collar. Mi So, still in a haze of lingering pleasure from his mouth on her breasts, watched him with heavy-lidded eyes. Even through the fabric of his trousers, she could clearly see the impressive bulge straining against the material. A slow, sensual lick escaped her lips as the memory of his thick, hard cock filling her returned with vivid intensity.

With a newfound resolve, she slowly pushed herself up from the sofa. The sudden movement caused her bare breasts to jiggle enticingly under his gaze, the hard nipples bobbing with each step. Yoo Shik’s already impressive erection seemed to tighten even further against his pants at the sight of her. Her eyes locked on his, filled with a raw hunger that mirrored his own, she closed the distance between them. Her hands reached out, gently at first, then with increasing confidence, and started to rub the hard ridge pressing against his trousers. Her touch was knowing, familiar, and sent a jolt of pure electricity through his body. She looked directly into his eyes, a silent promise of the pleasure they were about to share passing between them.

“Do you want it, Mi So-yah?” Yoo Shik asked, his voice thick with desire as he watched her hands stroking his already throbbing cock through the fabric of his trousers. Her touch was driving him crazy, and the question was more of a statement of the inevitable than an actual inquiry.

Mi So looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous and utterly carnal hunger. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “Oh, oppa,” she purred, her voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine, “you know I want it. I’ve been wanting it ever since I saw it straining in your pants.” Her hands continued their sensual exploration, her touch becoming bolder, more insistent. “That thick, hard cock of yours… it’s been on my mind all day.”

With a deliberate movement, her fingers reached for the button of his trousers, slowly undoing the fastening. Yoo Shik held his breath, anticipation building in his chest. The zipper followed, the sound loud in the quiet office. Mi So’s gaze never left his, her eyes filled with a desire that mirrored his own.

Then, with a teasing slowness, her fair, slender hands slipped inside the open waistband of his pants, disappearing beneath the soft fabric of his boxers. He could feel her touch him directly now, the warmth of her hands enveloping his hard, throbbing cock. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through him. She gently squeezed, testing his hardness, and then began to stroke, her fingers gliding up and down the length of his engorged member. He let out a shaky breath, his head falling back slightly as the intensity of the sensation washed over him. Her touch was exquisite, teasing the sensitive head, running down the smooth shaft, making him throb even harder in her grasp.

After a few more tantalizing moments, Mi So’s hands stilled their gentle caress on Yoo Shik’s thighs. A playful, almost wicked glint danced in her eyes as she looked up at him, her lips curved into a knowing smile. It was a silent invitation, a promise of deeper intimacy that sent a fresh wave of anticipation crashing through Yoo Shik. He watched, his breath catching in his throat, as she slowly knelt down before him.

Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his waist, her focus sharpening with an intense curiosity. Her slender fingers, which had been lightly tracing patterns on his legs, now moved to the button of his trousers. With a delicate precision, she undid the fastening, the small click echoing in the quiet of the office. Her touch lingered for a moment, her fingertips brushing against the fabric before she carefully slid the zipper down. The soft rasp of the metal breaking the silence only heightened the building tension in the room.

Next came the waistband of his boxers, the familiar elastic yielding easily to her touch. Mi So’s movements were slow and deliberate, each action a deliberate tease, drawing out the anticipation. As the fabric slid down his thighs, revealing more and more of him, Yoo Shik felt a thrill course through him. He could see the focused intensity in her eyes, the way her lips were slightly parted in anticipation.

And then, finally, it was there. Freed from the confines of his clothing, Yoo Shik’s cock sprang out, long and thick, arching upwards with a proud stiffness that almost made contact with Mi So’s stunningly beautiful face. She gasped softly, her eyes widening as she took in the impressive sight. It stood before her, a testament to his desire, the head a deep, rich red, glistening with a thick bead of pre-cum at the very tip. The veins pulsed visibly beneath the smooth skin, a tangible sign of his arousal.

With a slow, reverent touch, Mi So’s fair, slender hands reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they made contact with his engorged member. She took her time, her touch feather-light at first, as if she were exploring a precious object. Then, with increasing confidence, she wrapped her hand around the base, marveling at its thick circumference. Her fingers slowly traced the entire length, from the heavy root to the swollen, sensitive head. She explored every curve, every ridge, every vein, her touch becoming more intimate and knowing with each passing moment.

A soft sigh, a mixture of awe and longing, escaped her lips. She couldn’t help but compare the impressive weight and size of Yoo Shik’s cock to that of Young Joon. While Young Joon was certainly handsome and kind, his member in comparison felt almost… delicate. Yoo Shik’s, on the other hand, was a different beast altogether – thick, powerful, demanding. A secret, almost triumphant smile flickered across Mi So’s lips as she silently acknowledged the stark difference. This man, this seemingly ordinary colleague, possessed a weapon of pleasure that her supposedly perfect boyfriend simply couldn’t match. The realization only intensified the burning desire that was already raging within her, a potent mix of lust and a forbidden thrill. Her fingers tightened slightly around him, a silent promise of the pleasure she both craved to give and desperately wanted to receive. The early morning sunlight caught the glistening pre-cum on his tip, and Mi So leaned in slightly, her eyes never leaving his, a primal hunger evident in her gaze.

Mi So’s heart leaped into her throat at the sharp rap on the door, echoing loudly in the suddenly tense office. Kim Ji Ah’s voice, crisp and professional, cut through the air. “Vice President Yoo Shik? It’s Kim Ji Ah. I have those urgent files for your signature.”

KIM JI AH

Panic flared in Mi So’s eyes. Her bare breasts bounced with each hurried movement as she snatched her bra and blouse from the floor, her fingers fumbling with the tiny hooks. Yoo Shik, equally startled, grabbed his discarded trousers and boxers, his face a mask of barely concealed alarm.

“Just a moment, Ji Ah!” Yoo Shik called out, his voice strained as he tried to sound like he hadn't just been on the verge of a very different kind of meeting. He glanced frantically at Mi So.

With a desperate, wide-eyed look, Mi So scurried under Yoo Shik’s expansive desk, her only covering the tight office skirt that rode up her thighs with the hasty movement. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes landed squarely on Yoo Shik’s still-erect cock, swinging precariously as he sat back down in his chair. A thick bead of pre-cum clung to the tip, glistening in the dim light under the desk. Her insides clenched involuntarily.

“Come in, Ji Ah,” Yoo Shik said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He clutched his trousers and boxers in his lap, a pathetic attempt to hide his state.

The door swung open, and Kim Ji Ah entered, her arms holding a stack of manila folders. Following closely behind her was another woman, someone Mi So didn’t recognize immediately. This woman radiated a warm, friendly energy, her smile bright and genuine. She had a youthful glow and a figure that looked fantastic in a simple yet elegant dress.

“Good morning, Vice President,” Kim Ji Ah said, her attention focused on the files. “These need your immediate sign-off.”

“Good morning, Ji Ah. And good morning to you as well,” Yoo Shik said, his voice a little too cheerful, his eyes lingering on the newcomer with a curious interest that Mi So, from her vantage point, definitely noticed.

“Oh, Vice President, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Jung Yoo Mi,” Kim Ji Ah said, gesturing to the woman beside her. “She’s a childhood friend of Director Lee’s. She’s opening a new cafe, and Director Lee recommended you might be able to assist her with some of the business aspects.”

Jung Yoo Mi (Young Joon's childhood friend and unrequited first love)

Jung Yoo Mi offered a charming smile, her eyes meeting Yoo Shik’s with a directness that was both friendly and slightly intriguing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vice President Yoo Shik. Young Joon has spoken very highly of your business acumen.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Jung,” Yoo Shik replied, his earlier alarm seemingly replaced by a genuine interest in the attractive woman standing before him. “Young Joon is a good judge of character. Welcome.” His eyes flickered briefly downwards, taking in the subtle curves of her body beneath her dress.

Under the desk, Mi So’s stomach twisted with a knot of anxiety. Not only was she in a ridiculously compromising position, practically naked under her boss’s desk, but now Young Joon’s childhood friend was here, and Yoo Shik was already turning on the charm. She could hear the polite exchange above her, the rustling of papers as Kim Ji Ah placed the files on the desk. The air under the desk felt thick and close, the faint scent of pre-cum still lingering. Her own breasts felt heavy and exposed, and she silently prayed that no one would need anything from under the desk anytime soon. The situation was a chaotic mess of near exposure, unexpected visitors, and a potent mix of panic and lingering arousal.

[latenightdaydreams]

More konig zombie apocalypse au pls🥹

Of course!

ZombieApocalypseAU!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)

Part 1, Part 3

Part 2 picks up directly after part 1!

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, oral, throw up, p in v, non-con

1.3k word count

🧟

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You keep your eyes on him, feeling caged in by a wild animal and scared to make any sudden movements. There is no avoiding the way his erection strains against the fabric of pants while he rubs it. Once you’re done urinating, you reach out for the toilet paper in the stall; pulling a few squares for yourself. His eyes linger on your hands, watching you clean yourself.

The uncomfortable tension hangs in the air, König could care less. All he wants to do is reach forward and wipe the pretty pussy clean for you. He would drop on his knees and use his tongue to lap up every single drop from you. Instead, he just watches, holding back his more unusual desires for now.

“You have a beautiful body.” He speaks casually.

You stand and pull your underwear and pants up as you keep his gaze, almost worried that if you look away, he will lunge at you. He remains in the way, blocking you into the stall. His eyes roam over your body as his hand lingers on his cock.

“Move.” You speak up, but König can still hear the fear in your voice.

“Why?”

“You’re in my way.”

“Am I?”

König looks your body over once more before stepping aside and letting you leave the stall. He walks on your heels as you leave the bathroom, not wanting you to try and lock him out of your little room in the closet. While you’re a small woman, you seem to have done well for yourself. A perfect mate for a man like König.

You use your key to open the door of your small room, only opening it slightly. König puts his hand on the door and opens it more to fit his size. He nudges you into the room. Alone, it’s the perfect space. With König, it truly feels suffocating in here. The door closes behind the two of you, locking as soon as it latches.

“This is cozy.” König looks at all of your food storage while his arms wrap around your waist and pull you back against his body. “You’ve done well for yourself, Schatz.”

“I have.” You attempt to break free from his grasp, but he doesn’t budge.

“Together, imagine how great we can be.” His hands roam up to your breasts.

“I’m better off alone.”

“Are you?”

“Remember, I saved you.” You snap.

This angers König. His hand quickly wraps around your neck, applying enough pressure to be uncomfortable. Your hands try to pry his off but you can’t. He leans down and speaks in a low dangerous tone. “Watch how you fucking speak to me, Schatz.” His other hand lingers on your breast and squeezes hard.

König lets go of you and pushes you forward, throwing you off balance. He walks forward, grabbing your hair and kicking your feet out from underneath you. You hit your makeshift bed hard, making you lose your breath. König stands over your body as he begins to undress himself, pulling at his belt and tossing it down on the ground as his eyes gloss over your body.

“Undress.” He demands.

You don’t move, frozen with fear. His boot kicks your legs lightly as he repeats his orders once more. With shaky hands you reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, followed by your sports bra. You completely undress, feeling bashful as you are forced to show yourself to him. König stands over your body looking down at you, his cock heavy and hangs with a slight curve.

“Kneel.”

Not wanting to make this worse for yourself, you kneel and look up at him. He steps closer looks down at you, waiting. Yet, you just stay frozen in place. His fingers intertwine with your hair and tilt your head back.

“You’ve had sex, ja?”

“Y- yes.”

“Then you know what to do.”

König lets go of your hair and keeps his cold gaze locked on you. You grab him in one hand, the strong musk of his unwashed body hits you as you move closer. The feeling of his eyes on you adding a level of hesitation. Your mouth opens resting the tip of his cock on your lips as your eyes rise up to meet him.

He grabs the back of your head again, forcing your head down on him. Your hands move to his thighs, trying to push back as he shoves half of his length down your throat. A loud gagging sound echoes in the small space as you strain, trying to pull back.

“Come on, you can take more.” König growls under his breath as he pushes your head further down his length. You can’t, you throw up, the disgusting taste consuming your taste buds. He lets go of you as you spit on the ground, watching and laughing as you struggle. “Lie down.”

You look behind you before slowly resting your body back. A rush of adrenaline crashes over you, fight or flight kicking in but you find yourself fawning instead. There are no humans around you can trust and any loud noise would just attract zombies. You’re trapped and he knows it.

König lowers himself onto your bed, parting your legs eagerly gazing at the precious pink that reveals itself as your folds open up to him. A low growl rumbles deep inside of his chest as excitement consumes him. It’s been so long since he’s seen or smelled the sweet scent of a cunt.

His eyes meet yours, wide with fear and anxiety. He leans close to you, close enough to smell your breath with every hard breath you take. You look so beautiful even when you’re scared. One hand comes up and caresses your face in such a tender way that it surprises you.

“Don’t ever fucking disrespect me again. You’re mind. Understand, Schatz?”

You nod, his tone is ice cold making your stomach drop. He lingers there, just looking at you. When you’re about to open your mouth to apologize, you stop feeling a stinging tear as he thrust his hips forward. He slams the full length of his thick cock inside of your small cunt. A primal cry leaves you instead as your hands move to his arms, your fingernails digging into his pale skin.

“You feel so fucking good, Schatz.”

König moves one hand to cover your mouth, muffling the sound of your pained cries as you struggle to take him. “Shhh.” He whispers to you as his hips thrust into you at a steady pace, slowly quickening as he loses himself in the euphoric feeling of your gummy tight walls squeezing around him. His pleasure comes before your comfort. He owns you now and you need to learn your place. Having a wife that back talks and demands of him isn’t desirable. In this new world he can have you any way he pleases, who will stop him

After König cums inside of you, he leaves you laying there with his seed leaking out of you. He stands and walks over to your food pile. From the makeshift bed you look over at him while he grabs a tin of fish and opens it. In your mind, you try to decide that trying to kill him would be too risky or worth it if you should just accept this new life.

Technically, you guess it could be worse. The stories you’ve heard from others about what men have done to them still lingers with you. Having König here might even be good. Two people means double the loot and more safety.

König turns and looks down at you. His eyes wander over your body once more as he eats a piece of fish. He sits down next to you and holds food out for you. You slowly raise your hand to grab it when he jerks the food away.

“Open.”

You’ve learned to not argue with him, so you open your mouth and let him feed you. He watches you with an intense gaze as you eat. Oil drips down your lips as you chew causing König to lean in and lick the oil before kissing you softly.

“You’re my wife now. If anyone asks, you’re mine. And if you try to run, I’ll chain you to me. Understand?”

“I- I understand.”

“Gut, mein kleiner Schatz.”

Part 3