#red slapping the keyboard

[byfawn]

THE CONTRACT

↳ oneshot | 10.8k | lowercase intended

preview: you signed a contract in desperation for money, thinking it was a joke of sorts—desperate times call for desperate measures. but when you're taken by two masked men who don’t plan to hurt you, just keep you, you realize this isn’t a joke anymore.

↳ note: this is a dark romance with heavy psychological elements and morally ambiguous characters. while the ending leans into tenderness, there is a lot of blurred lines. reader discretion is strongly advised. i really held back a lot while writing this because i was not in the mood to have my account flagged again lol. maybe one day i'll get the balls to go full throttle!

↳ content warnings: this fic contains explicit non-consensual elements (kidnapping, confinement, drugging, forced captivity), psychological manipulation, stockholm syndrome themes, graphic sexual content (including cunnilingus, spanking, edging, denied orgasm, forced orgasm, overstimulation, anal play, double penetration, breeding, pussy slapping, praise, and degradation), power dynamics, forced feeding, and emotional trauma.

the bright glow of your laptop screen lights up your cramped apartment. outside, the city echoes with distant sirens and the occasional drunken shout, but inside, the silence is deafening. your fingers hover over the keyboard, trembling slightly.

the eviction notice on on the coffee table stares back at you in big, bold red letters reading final warning. almost as if it was some kind of death sentence. you hoped it would't come to this but hope could only get you so far. the last thing you needed right now was to be homeless in this shady neighborhood during the dead of winter. you've sold everything of value—all of your jewelry, your books, even a good chunk of your clothes. but it wasn't enough. it was never enough.

so there you were, curled up on your sunken couch, scrolling through the darkest depths of the internet. the places people only whisper about in hushed tones. your breath comes in shallow, uneven bursts as you click through encrypted forums, each one darker than the last. the air in your apartment feels thick, heavy with the weight of your desperation.

you spent hours working late nights and early mornings but it was never enough to crawl yourself out of the debt that has been sucking you into a blackhole. 

then you see it.

the sanctuary.

the site is sleek, almost too polished—like it was designed to lure in people exactly like you. no flashy banners, no pop-ups. just a single, ominous listing under experiences:

be taken. be kept. no questions. $500,000 payout upon completion.

your heart stutters in your chest. half a million dollars. that kind of money would be life changing. more than enough to wipe your debts clean, to start over, to breathe again. you could finally move out of this shitty hell hole that is a pathetic excuse of an apartment. 

it was probably a scam but what harm would come from just filling out the application. some twisted joke or a phishing site made to prey on the desperate. you weren't stupid, you knew that. but your fridge was empty, your bank account was overdrawn, and the landlord's threats were starting to sound like promises.

but the questions that follow make your skin prickle with unease:

do you consent to full surrender? yes.

are you prepared to give up all rights for the duration of the stay? yes.

are you mentally and physically prepared for an intensive period of isolation, obedience, and environmental conditioning? yes.

do you understand that comfort and care will be provided at the discretion of your handlers, not upon request? yes.

you swallow hard, throat dry as sandpaper. the rules are deliberately vague, the language clinical, detached. it claims that it is a hundred percent legal and consensual, but something about the way the words sit on the screen makes your stomach twist.

it feels like a game. a dangerous, twisted game—but you're desperate enough to play.

your cursor hovers over the sign button. for a moment, you hesitate, the rational part of your brain screaming at you to close the tab, to walk away. but then you think of your landlord's sneer, the way your stomach aches from skipping meals, the crushing weight of knowing you're one missed payment away from being out on the streets.

against your better judgement, you click sign.

you hold your breathe as you wait for what happens next. the screen of your laptop goes black. anxiously, you ram your fingers against the keyboard in an attempt to bring it back to life. the screen remains black, the shocked reflection of your face staring back at you. 

you can't help but laugh. it comes out nearly hysterical. with everything going on, the last thing you needed was your shitty laptop giving out on you. as you reach to close your laptop, the screen mysteriously flickers back to life with a single message written across it:

leave your door unlocked tonight.

you slam the laptop shut, the sudden silence in the room pressing in on you like a physical force. your pulse roars in your ears, your palms slick with sweat. what the absolute hell did you just agreed to?

fuck, it's too late to back out now. and no amount of prayers or demise can undo what you had just signed off on. for all you know it was probably some stupid prank set up by a group of teenagers who didn't know any better. that night when you went to sleep, you locked the door and triple checked the windows before heading to bed. 

you spent countless hours tossing and turning, you were far to anxious to even close your eyes, afraid that the dark will swallow you whole. you opted for sitting on the edge of your mattress, knees drawn to your chest, listening to the creaks and groans of your apartment building. every noise makes you jump, your heart insistently pounding in your ears. every creak made your skin crawl, quickening your pulse. 

the clock strikes past 2:00 a.m. your eyes sting from hours of fighting off much needed slumber. you had a shift at the coffee shop that started in three hours. but despite your exhaustion, your body refusing to relax. before you knew it, light was softly filtering through the blinds, the dark of the night gone at last. the apartment was quiet and still as it could be as you stretched your sore limbs. staring into the mirror, your eyes were bloodshot and your face looked drained of life.

there was a part of you that felt like an absolute and utter idiot for even believing that something was going to happen. still, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. it wasn't in the apartment itself, or in the air, or the light. it was in you.

you dragged yourself through your shift at the coffee shop, running on caffeine and adrenaline. the hours passed in a blur. you made drinks, wiped counters, and forced yourself to smile at customers who would never guess what you had done the night before. you kept checking your phone, half-expecting a message, a warning, something. but there was nothing. it felt almost as though a weight was lifted off of your chest. 

by the time your shift ended, you were too exhausted to think straight. you walked home in a haze, the cold wind biting at your skin. after a quick hot shower, you bundled up under your comforter and drifted off into some much needed slumber. 

you don't know what wakes you.

maybe it's the shift in the air, the sudden absence of sound. maybe it's the weight of a gaze you feel before you even open your eyes. but when you do—there's a man standing at the foot of your bed.

your breath catches, your body locking up in pure, animal instinct. he's tall—too tall—his broad frame nearly swallowing the dim light from the streetlamp outside. the shadows cling to him like a second skin, but you can make out his face due to his mask, the glint of something dark and unreadable in his eyes.

you don't scream. you don't even move. your lips part, but no sound comes out. 

then instinct finally kicks in.

you lunge for your nightstand, scrambling for anything to defend yourself. his hand snaps out, catching your wrist in a grip like iron. your pulse thunders in your ears as you twist, nails raking against his arm. a growl rumbles in his chest, low and warning.

"none of that," he murmurs, voice rough.

you don't listen. you can't. panic floods your veins, sharp and electric, and you thrash, knee jerking up. a second pair of hands grabs you from behind, locking your arms against your body. "fuck," a new voice mutters, voice thick with a british accent. "she's a fighter."

you writhe, teeth bared, but they're too strong. he reaches reaches into his pocket, pulling out a syringe. the liquid inside catches the light and you thrash against them even harder.

your breath comes in ragged bursts. "no—no—"

"shhh," the first man soothes, almost gentle, as if he's calming a spooked animal. "just a little pinch."

the needle sinks into your neck.

you gasp, the burn of the injection spreading fast. your limbs grow heavy, your vision blurring at the edges. the last thing you see is the second man's masked face tilting as he studies you, his grip never loosening.

"sleep now, little one," the first man murmurs.

and just like that—the world goes dark.

when you wake, its feels like your skull has been hammered in. you could practically feel your heart pounding in your head. your neck still sore from whatever the hell you were injected with. your mouth feels dry and tastes of copper and cotton. when you try to swallow, its like sandpaper grinding against your throat. you slowly start to piece together the reality around you. 

first it's the smell of damp concrete and something metallic. then the cold, seeping through your clothes and into your bones. finally, the pain, a dull throb at your neck where the needle went in.

you blink against the dim light. you're on a mattress, thin and lumpy, pushed into the corner of what looks like a basement. the walls are bare concrete, the only light coming from a single bulb swinging gently from the ceiling. there are no windows.

you try to lift your head and immediately regret it as the world tilts violently. a soft whimper escaping your lips. when you try to stand up, the chain around your ankle yanks you back. your breath hitches. it's thick, industrial-grade, bolted to the floor and connected to a leather cuff tight enough to leave marks but not cut off circulation.

"she's awake."

the voice comes from the shadows near the stairs. the british one steps into the light, holding two mugs. steam curls from them in the cold air. he's changed clothes and is now wearing black tactical pants and a tight gray henley that stretches across his shoulders. his mask remains firmly in place, the familiar skull fabric hiding his features. only his eyes are visible, glinting in the low light as he studies your pain-tense form.

he sets one mug on the floor near your mattress and keeps the other for himself. "drink. it'll help with the headache."

you don't move. your throat burns with thirst, but you won't take anything from him. not again.

he sighs, crouching down to your level. "suit yourself." he takes a sip from his own mug, watching you over the rim. "you put up a good fight back there. surprised me."

"go to hell." your voice comes out cracked, barely above a whisper.

you can tell he's grinning even through his mask. "already there, darling."

the creak of the stairs makes you both turn. the larger masked man descends slowly, his massive frame barely fitting. he's changed into a black hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. the sight of those thick veins running under tanned skin makes you swallow hard. his face is concealed by that distinctive hood—the fabric obscuring everything except those unsettling eyes that track your every movement.

"she's not drinking," the british one says. there's something possessive in how he watches you, something that curls heat low in your belly even as your mind screams in protest.

the hooded man tilts his head, the fabric shifting with the movement. "she will."

he reaches into his pocket with deliberate slowness and pulls out a phone. your phone. his fingers tap the screen before turning it toward you. the glow illuminates the loose threads of his hood as you see the bank notification—$100,000 deposited into your account.

"first installment," he says, voice muffled slightly by the fabric. "as promised."

you stare at the number until the screen goes dark, reflecting back the shadowy outline of his concealed face. it's more money than you've ever seen.

the british one nudges the mug closer with his boot. the ceramic scrapes against concrete. "now will you drink?" there's a challenge in his voice that makes you want to both obey and defy him, the contradiction tying your stomach in knots.

your hands shake as you reach for it. when you look up, they're both watching you with something like satisfaction, and the heat in their eyes has nothing to do with cruelty and everything to do with possession. it should terrify you. part of you wishes it did.

the hooded man pockets your phone, the movement making his hood shift. for a second, you think you see the shadow of stubble along his jawline before it disappears back into concealment. "rules are simple," he says. the fabric moves with each word. "you stay. you obey. you get the rest."

"and if i say no?" your voice comes out breathier than you intended.

the british one's laugh is hollow. "you clicked the button, love. that was your signature." he steps closer, and you don't pull away when his thumb brushes your lower lip. "we all know what you really want."

the hooded man's hand settles on your waist, large enough to span nearly half of it. his breath is warm through the fabric as he leans down. "this is your life for now," he murmurs, and the promise in his voice makes your traitorous body arch toward him. "be a good girl and accept it."

the bulb flickers as they leave. the lock clicks. outside, wind howls, but inside, you're burning up. you're torn between horror and shame and filled with the aching need they've awakened in you. the tea sits forgotten as you press your thighs together, disgusted with yourself and yet already wondering when they'll return.

the silence after they leave is suffocating. you slump back against the mattress, your fingers trembling where they clutch the mug. the tea has gone cold, but your skin still burns where they touched you. you hate it. you hate how your body betrays you, how your pulse jumps at the memory of rough hands and low voices.

the chain around your ankle clinks when you shift, the sound too loud in the empty basement. you should be planning an escape. you should be screaming. instead, you're staring at the spot where the british one stood, the way he brushed your lips with his calloused hands burned into your mind. perhaps it was the after effects of the drugs that they gave you making you hallucinate?

you don't know how long has passed but you're most certain that it has definitely been a few hours. you're stomach is grumbling, the last thing you consumed was a day or two ago—a croissant and cup of coffee from the cafe. the hunger was gnawing at your stomach and you were starting to feel dizzy. 

 the door clicks open without warning. you jerk upright, chains rattling, as the british one strides in carrying a tray. the smell hits you first—roasted meat, fresh bread, something herbal that makes your empty stomach clench painfully.

"brought you dinner, darling," he says, setting the tray just beyond your reach. steam rises from the plate, curling in the damp basement air. your mouth waters before you can stop it.

you force your gaze away. "i'm not eating that."

he crouches with predatory grace, balancing effortlessly on the balls of his feet. "oh?" his fingers tear off a piece of bread, holding it up. "smells good though, doesn't it?"

when you don't answer, he tsks. "such a stubborn little thing." the bread brushes your lips. you press them tighter. his other hand grips your chin, forcing your head up. "come now. you'll need your strength."

"for what?" you snap, trying to twist away. his grip tightens.

"for all the fun we're going to have." he presses the bread harder against your mouth. "eat."

you lunge suddenly, teeth aiming for his fingers. he moves faster, twisting your head to the side and pinning you against the mattress. his body presses down, all hard muscle and controlled strength.

"naughty," he breathes against your ear, hips grinding down just enough to make your breath hitch. the bread is still in his other hand. "you want to play rough? fine." he nips your earlobe. "but you're still going to eat."

you thrash violently, nails raking down his arms, legs kicking uselessly beneath his weight. he sighs dramatically. "have it your way." in one smooth motion, he pulls his mask up just enough to reveal cruel, smiling lips and pops the bread into his own mouth, chewing slowly while watching you struggle. "shame. it's really quite good."

your stomach growls loudly. you can feel your face grow heated from embarrassment but your far to prideful to eat anything he offers. you can see his eyes light up with dark amusement. 

before you can react, he's grabbing another piece of bread and chewing it deliberately. you barely have time to gasp before his hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back. his mouth crashes against yours, tongue forcing the food past your lips. you choke, but he doesn't let go until you swallow, his teeth nipping your bottom lip as he pulls away.

your chest heaves, torn between rage and the shameful realization that your body is responding to his dominance. he tears off another piece, chewing slowly as he watches you. you know what's coming. your breath comes faster.

"open," he commands. when you don't obey, he pinches your nose shut. instinct makes your lips part, and he's on you again, feeding you another mouthful with his lips and tongue. this time, when he pulls away, a whimper escapes you before you can stop it.

"that's it," he coaxes, feeding you another bite. each morsel comes with a stroke of his fingers, a whispered praise that coils heat low in your belly. "so good for me."

when the food is gone, he lingers, thumb wiping a crumb from your lip. you bite down hard. he yanks back with a laugh, examining the teeth marks on his thumb. when he finally stands, adjusting his mask back into place, you're left panting, your lips swollen, your body thrumming with conflicting sensations.

"feisty till the end," he muses. "i like that." he collects the tray, pausing at the door. "sleep well, princess. you'll need it."

your can feel the exhaustion of the past two days and a 12 hour shift wearing down on your body. as much as you try to fight it off in fear of one of them coming back down, your exhaustion wins and sleep comes heavy and unwilling. your lips still tingle from the forced feeding, your skin buzzing with the memory of his hands on you. you dream of mocking voices and teeth at your throat, waking in gasps only to find the basement still dark, still empty.

when you wake, it is to the feeling up being watched—a feeling that you have known all to well lately. it's him. the hooded one. he seems to be much gentler compared to the one with the british accent. 

he's seated in the corner, silent as a shadow, his massive frame swallowing what little light filters into the room. you don't know how long he's been there, but the way his head tilts when your eyes meet tells you its been far to long. his gaze catches yours slow, deliberate, like a predator savoring the moment its prey realizes it's caught. 

"you're awake." his voice is low, muffled by the mask, but it scrapes over your skin anyway. he doesn't move. doesn't blink. just stares, those unreadable eyes tracking the way your breath hitches.

you sit up slowly, chain clinking, your muscles stiff from the cold floor. instinct has you crawling backward before you can stop yourself, shoulders pressing into the wall as if that could save you. "what do you want?"

he stands in one smooth motion, the movement too graceful for a man his size. the bucket in his hand sloshes, water dripping onto the floor between his boots. "you need to wash."

your stomach drops. "no."

he doesn't react, just sets the bucket down with a thud and nudges it toward you with his foot. the towel draped over his arm is crisp, white—a mockery of cleanliness in this basement. "you're dirty," he says. 

heat floods your cheeks. "i'm not undressing in front of you."

"no?" his head tilts, the edges of his hood shifting. beneath the fabric, you imagine his lips curling. "then you stay dirty." he crouches suddenly, fingers snagging the hem of your shirt. "unless you want help."

you slap his hand away. "don't fucking touch me."

his grip closes around your wrist like a vice, yanking you forward until your chest nearly brushes him. "fight all you want," he murmurs, dragging your trapped hand under his mask. his tongue flicks out, tracing your knuckles through the fabric, slow, as if savoring the salt of your skin. "you'll give in eventually. i'll ask again nicely. take it off."

"no."

one hand fists in your shirt and yanks. the cotton fabric tears like paper. cold air hits your bare skin and you gasp, hands flying up to cover yourself. it's pointless. he's already grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. his gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of your bare chest. your nipples harden under his sharp stare and you can't help but squirm. you shouldn't have found this attractive but it had wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. 

the damp cloth traces your collarbones, slow and methodical, wiping away your sweat. you bite your lip to stop the moan threatening to escape.

"so sensitive," he murmurs, the cloth dipping lower. he releases your wrists and grips your waist, holding you still as he washes between your breasts. your breath comes faster, your nipples pebbling under his attention. "see how your body reacts?"

you squeeze your thighs together, but he notices. of course he does. his knee nudges them apart as he crouches before you. the cloth drags down your stomach, over your hips, leaving fire in its wake. when it reaches the waistband of your shorts, you whimper.

"shhh," he soothes, even as his fingers hook in the fabric. "i'll take care of you." the rip of fabric echoes in the quiet room. you should be ashamed, should fight harder, but his hands on your bare skin feel too good. you melt under his rough hands like putty. you find all the fight that you had slowly simmer down under the gentle care of his hands. 

the water is cool, but where he touches you burns. his fingers trace every curve, every dip, cleaning you with a reverence that makes your chest ache. when his thumb brushes your inner thigh, you jerk, a broken sound escaping your lips.

"so perfect," he growls, his masked mouth pressing against your knee. "so responsive." his hands slide up your legs, washing away the last traces of dirt, leaving you exposed and trembling.

no one has ever been so attentive to you. not when you were scrounging for food in dumpsters at twelve. not when you burned with fever that left you immobile in that shitty studio apartment with no one to even bring you medicine because you had no one. the first tear falls before you can stop it. 

he pauses. "look at me." when you don't, his fingers grip your chin, forcing your gaze up. his masked face tilts, studying your wet cheeks. "crying?" his thumb swipes under your eye, collecting tears. "why?"

"because you're—" your voice cracks "—you're fucking monsters. and this is the kindest anyone's ever touched me."

the confession hangs between you, raw and ugly. his breathing changes, the mask fluttering slightly. for a long moment, he just watches you shake, his grip on your waist the only thing keeping you upright.

was it the emotional wear and tear of the past 48 hours sneaking up on you? or even worse, the lifetime of neglect that you had faced resulting in any kind of attention, good or bad, making you feel seen? you had been numb for so long that the sensation of tear running down your heated cheeks felt foreign. it was almost as if a dam had burst within you. 

his hands resume their work, slower now. the cloth moves down your thighs with unbearable gentleness, washing away dirt and years of neglect. "let go," he murmurs against your knee, his lips brushing skin through the fabric. "just let us take care of you."

you sob when his fingers find the scar on your hip—the one from when you fell through a rusted fire escape at fourteen and stitched it up yourself with fishing line. his touch lingers there, warm and steady, and something inside you fractures.

maybe it wouldn't be so bad, you think wildly, to let them break you. if their hands put you back together after. if they keep looking at you like you're something precious instead of disposable. 

"there," he whispers when you're clean, pressing a towel to your damp skin. his hands tremble slightly as he dresses you, buttoning the fresh dress with careful fingers.

you hate how much you crave his approval. hate how badly you want him to touch you again. but most of all, you hate that when he leaves, the cold feels unbearable—and that the scent of him lingers on your new clothes, wrapping you in something dangerously close to comfort.

the days blur together in a haze of careful hands and quiet commands. the british one that you have come to know as simon comes like clockwork—morning, noon, night—feeding you bites of food between teasing remarks. "open wider, princess," he'll murmur, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip until you obey. sometimes he makes you eat from his fingers. sometimes from his mouth. you always flush, always protest, but your lips part easier each time.

and the tall one that goes by konig is the one who washes you, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as they scrub away your resistance along with the dirt. he notices everything—how your breath hitches when his fingers graze the back of your neck, how your thighs press together when he kneels between them to wash your legs. "so responsive," he praises each time, his masked mouth brushing your ear. "such a good girl for me."

 you had lost track of how many days you had been holed up in the basement. how long did they plan to hold you captive? you had wondered if there had been anybody out there looking for you. although, that was highly unlikely given that you're parents weren't in the picture and you had no friends. maybe your manager at the cafe had filed some kind of report, she was a sweet old lady who always checked in on how you were doing because she knew that you lived alone in a shader part of town. 

as the days passed you started to formulate ways you could escape. the first order of business you had to tackle was the stupid chain on your ankle. luckily for you, there had been a bobby pin from your hair that you had kept hidden under your mattress.

you waited until the house fell silent, until even the creaking floorboards above had stilled. then you went to work. the lock was stubborn, but you were stubborn too. the first click made your pulse spike. the second had your hands shaking with anticipation. 

"and what do we have here?"

you nearly jump out of your skin—your blood turns to ice. simon’s voice comes from directly behind you, his shadow swallowing you whole. you don’t even have time to turn before konig’s hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back.

"naughty girl," he murmurs, plucking the pin from your fingers. his mask brushes your cheek as he inhales sharply. "you smell like fear. you should be scared."

simon crouches in front of you, his knife flashing as he taps it against your ankle cuff. "we give you pretty dresses. feed you from our hands." the blade gently slides up your calf, making you shiver. "and this is how you repay us?"

you spit at him, the saliva landing on his boot. "go to hell."

simon’s laugh sends shivers down your spine as he wipes his boot clean with slow, deliberate strokes. "oh sweetheart," he purrs, sheathing his knife with a click that echoes in the silent basement. "you just earn yourself a proper punishment."

konig’s grip in your hair tightens as he hauls you upright, his other hand wrapping around your throat in a way that shouldn’t make your pulse jump but does. "such a bad girl," he murmurs, his masked lips brushing your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver. "needing to be taught a lesson."

you thrash against him, nails scraping at his arms, but he doesn’t budge. the hard planes of his chest press against your back, his arousal evident even through layers of tactical gear. simon stands with that infuriating smirk, rolling up the sleeves of his henley to reveal corded forearms that have no business being so distracting. "over my lap," he commands, settling onto the edge of the mattress with deliberate ease.

"fuck you!" you snarl, twisting in konig’s hold. your heart pounds not just from fear, but from the way his fingers flex against your throat, the way simon’s eyes darken as they rake over your body.

konig tsks, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours as he easily maneuvers you face-down across simon’s thighs. the cold air hits your bare ass as konig yanks your panties down in one sharp motion, his knuckles brushing your sensitive skin and leaving fire in their wake.

"such a pretty little ass," simon muses, running his calloused palm over one cheek in a caress that feels more possessive than punishing. "gonna look even prettier all red and marked up."

the first smack lands without warning, sharp and stinging. you yelp, fingers digging into the mattress as heat blooms across your skin. "bastard!" you spit, but your traitorous body already responds, your nipples pebbling against the rough fabric of simon’s jeans.

simon just chuckles, delivering another sharp slap to the same spot, the pain melting into something dangerously close to pleasure. "count them, princess. or we start over." his thigh shifts beneath you, pressing deliberately against your aching core.

"never!" you gasp, but your hips rock forward instinctively, seeking friction.

the next blow comes harder, making your eyes water even as your cunt clenches around nothing. konig’s hand settles between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned as simon begins a relentless rhythm—left cheek, right cheek, each smack louder than the last, each one sending jolts of heat straight to your throbbing clit.

"o-one," you finally crack out in a broken voice, shame curling in your belly even as your arousal grows.

by the fifth spank, your thighs shake—not just from pain, but from the way simon’s massive hand covers nearly your entire ass, his fingers brushing dangerously close to your dripping slit with every impact. the sharp sting radiates through you, mixing with the low throb between your legs until you can’t tell where the pain ends and the pleasure begins.

"f-fifteen," you choke out after another brutal spank, your ass burning like fire. tears streak your face, but worse—your juices coat simon’s jeans where you grind against him, your body betraying you completely. you’re a sobbing, snotty mess by fifty, but your cunt pulses with need, aching to be filled.

simon pauses, rubbing circles over the heated skin of your ass. "fast learner that we have here," he murmurs, his voice rough with arousal. his fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked folds and coming away glistening. "oh? what’s this?" he holds his wet fingers up for konig to see, his smirk widening.

you whimper, hips jerking away from his touch, but konig holds you firm, his other hand sliding down to squeeze your abused cheeks. "she’s dripping," he observes, his voice thick with amusement as he presses against you, letting you feel the hard length of him through his pants. "such a dirty little thing, getting off on her punishment."

"i’m not!" you protest, but your traitorous body clenches around nothing, your clit throbbing with each heartbeat. the scent of your arousal fills the air, mixing with leather and gunpowder in a way that makes your head spin.

simon’s next smack lands directly on your pussy, the sting mixing with pleasure so intense you scream, your back arching off his lap. "liar," he growls, delivering two more sharp slaps to your swollen lips that have you seeing stars. "your cunt’s begging for more. should we give it to her, konig?"

the taller man hums, his fingers sliding through your folds to circle your aching clit with terrifying precision. "i think she’s earned a reward," he decides, pressing down just hard enough to make you writhe, your hips chasing his touch. "after she apologizes, of course." his thumb flicks over your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing a broken moan from your lips. "well, little one? what do you say?"

you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, refusing to give them the satisfaction even as your nails dig into the sheets, your body arching toward konig’s skilled fingers. simon’s hand comes down again, this time on your already burning ass, the sharp sting making your clit throb against konig’s relentless circles. "fuck! okay, okay! i’m sorry!" you sob, the words torn from you as much by pleasure as punishment.

konig’s fingers don’t stop their torturous movements, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. "sorry for what, little one?" his voice is rough velvet through the mask, that accent curling around the words in a way that makes your stomach flip.

"for t-trying to escape," you gasp, hips rocking shamelessly against his hand now, your resistance crumbling with each expert stroke. the way simon watches you—those piercing eyes tracking every twitch of your body, the way his jaw tightens when you moan—sends fresh heat pooling low in your belly. "for being a b-bad girl."

simon’s palm lands one final, stinging blow before soothing over the heated skin, his touch almost tender.

"good enough," he decides, flipping you onto your back with effortless strength. his eyes darken at the sight of your tear-streaked face, your heaving chest, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze.

"look at you," he murmurs, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. "all marked up and still so defiant." the way his voice drops sends shivers down your spine. "we’ll break you eventually."

konig’s fingers push inside you without warning, curling against that sweet spot that has you seeing stars. "she’s close," he observes, though the way his breath hitches betrays his own arousal. his fingers piston in and out, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet room as you arch off the bed, your body taut as a bowstring. "should we let her come?"

"not yet. the first time she comes, it will be on my cock." simon leans down, his breath hot against your ear as konig’s fingers still, leaving you teetering on the edge. "don’t even think about touching yourself, i will be watching."

"next time you misbehave," simon promises, his teeth grazing your earlobe in a way that makes your cunt clench around konig’s fingers, "we won’t stop at just a spanking." the dark promise in his voice has liquid heat dripping down konig’s fingers. "understood?"

you nod frantically, your entire body trembling with denied release, your skin oversensitive and burning wherever they’ve touched you. konig withdraws his fingers with a wet sound, wiping them deliberately on your inner thigh, marking you with your own arousal. "good girl," he murmurs, the praise curling around you like smoke. "now sleep."

as they leave, the door locking behind them with finality, you collapse onto the mattress. your ass still burns, your cunt still aches, and worst of all—your fingers itch to touch yourself despite simon’s warning. you press your thighs together, biting back a moan as the friction sends sparks through your oversensitive nerves.

curling into yourself, you press your face into the pillow to muffle your frustrated scream. you should be planning another escape, looking for a weakness in routine, trying to get out of the shackle but you find yourself wondering on how they would taste and feel instead.

sleep didn't come. just the endless replay of konig's murmured praise, simon's dark promises. the way they'd worked you over like a shared project, all rough hands and calculated tenderness. you bit your lip until copper flooded your tongue, but it didn't stop the memories—konig's breath hitching when you clenched around his fingers, simon's grip in your hair as he forced eye contact while konig touched you.

the next morning arrives with no relief. you wake tangled in sweat-damp sheets, your body still thrumming with last night's denied pleasure. every shift of fabric against oversensitive skin sends sparks through your nerves, making your teeth clench. you press your thighs together tightly, but the pressure only makes it worse —a constant, aching reminder of their control.

"someone didn't sleep well," he observes, setting down the breakfast tray. the scent of coffee makes your chest tighten with something dangerously close to homesickness.

"fuck you," you mutter, but your voice lacks its usual bite.

he chuckles, perching on the edge of the mattress. "eventually." his fingers trail up your bare leg, pausing at the bruise konig left yesterday. when you flinch, he presses harder, his thumb circling the mark. "hurts?"

you shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"liar." the word is almost affectionate as he reaches for the breakfast tray. "open."

when you hesitate, his free hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your still-throbbing core with terrifying accuracy. "i said," he repeats, fingers applying just enough pressure to make your hips jerk, "open."

you part your lips with a shaky exhale, letting him feed you the first bite. his smile widens as he wipes a crumb from your lip with his thumb. "see? was that so hard?"

konig enters silently, his massive frame filling the doorway. his masked face tilts as he takes in the scene—simon's hand still under the sheets, your flushed cheeks, the way your fingers clutch the blanket in white-knuckled fists. "trouble?" he rumbles, moving to stand behind simon.

"just reminding our girl who takes care of her," simon replies, feeding you another bite. this time, konig's hand joins his under the sheets, his fingers replacing simon's. his calloused fingers drags against your sensitive flesh, making you gasp.

"so wet," konig murmurs, his other hand stroking your hair. "even after last night." his fingers work you with clinical precision, never quite giving you what you need. "do you want to come, little one?"

you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood. the answer claws at your throat, but pride keeps it locked behind your teeth.

simon leans in, his lips brushing your ear. "say please," he whispers, "and maybe we'll consider it."

the tray sits forgotten as they reduce you to a trembling mess between them—konig's relentless fingers, simon's filthy words. when you finally break, a whispered "please" slipping past your lips.

simon's fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes them apart, the cool air hitting your needy cunt. his mask is lifted just enough to reveal his smirk before he leans in, tongue dragging a slow, torturous stripe through your folds. you whimper, back arching off the mattress, but he pins you down with ease, his grip bruising.

"so fucking wet," he mutters against you, lips sealing around your clit to suck lightly—just enough to make your toes curl but not enough to push you over. his tongue flicks and teases, alternating between soft licks and sharp nips that leave you gasping. konig's hand strokes your inner thigh, his other palming himself through his pants, the quiet sound of fabric rustling filling the room.

"please," you choke out, fingers twisting in the sheets.

simon pulls back with a wet sound, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "please what?" he taunts, dragging his cock through your slick, the thick head catching on your clit. you jerk, a broken noise escaping you. "use your words."

"please—fuck me," you plead, hips lifting desperately.

he doesn't make you wait. with one brutal thrust, he's inside, stretching you to the limit, the stretch burning so good. his hips snap forward, setting a punishing pace from the start, each drive punching a moan from your lips. konig's hand slips between your bodies, thumb circling your clit in time with simon's thrusts, the dual stimulation making your vision blur.

"gonna come?" simon growls, fingers digging into your hips. "told ya the first time you'd come would be on my cock."

you shatter with a sob, your cunt clenching around him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. the orgasm so intense that it hits you like a freight train. simon fucks you through it, his own release following shortly after with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. konig's breath is ragged behind his mask, his hand moving faster over himself until he grunts, spilling over his fist.

simon pulls out with a satisfied hum, thumb swiping through the mess between your thighs before pressing it to your lips. "good girl," he murmurs, watching as you lick it clean. konig's hand strokes your hair, his touch almost gentle compared to the wreckage simon left behind.

"next time," konig says, "i'm taking your ass, little one."

konig's fingers curl around the cold metal of the shackle, the one that's been clamped around your ankle for weeks—maybe months, time blurred down here in the dark. the click of the lock releasing is the sweetest sound you've ever heard. your skin tingles where the rough iron had been, the sudden absence of weight making your leg feel almost weightless, like you could float away.

the relief is immediate. the constant pressure, the chafing, the way it bit into your flesh every time you moved—gone. you suck in a sharp breath as blood rushes back to the spot, the sensation both prickling and soothing at once. you reach down without thinking, fingertips brushing over the raw, tender skin. it's sore, yes, but god, it's free.

he watches you for a moment, his masked face unreadable, before he hooks an arm under your knees and another behind your back, lifting you like you weigh nothing. your body protests weakly—every muscle limp, every nerve still buzzing from simon's rough treatment—but you don't fight it. you can't.

the basement stairs creak under his boots, each step taking you further from the damp, mold-scented air, closer to something you'd almost forgotten existed. real light, real air. your vision swims as he carries you into the hallway, the sudden brightness making you flinch. it's not even that bright—just a dim lamp flickering on the wall—but your eyes burn anyway, unused to anything but shadows.

he kicks open a door, and then you're being lowered onto something soft. a bed. actual fabric beneath you, not concrete, not that pathetic excuse of a mattress. your body sinks into it, the mattress cradling you in a way that makes your throat tighten. you want to cry. you might already be crying.

konig's hand drags over your bare hip, possessive but not cruel. "rest," he orders, voice gravelly. "you'll need it."

you don't have the strength to answer. the second he pulls the blanket over you, your eyelids give out, heavy as lead. the last thing you feel is the ghost of his touch on your cheek before darkness swallows you whole.

later that evening, you stir to the feeling of large hands sliding beneath you, lifting you with surprising care. your body aches, muscles still heavy with exhaustion, but the pain is duller now—soothed by the deep, dreamless sleep you'd fallen into.

konig's voice is softer than usual, almost tender as he murmurs, "time to get you cleaned up, little one."

you blink up at him, disoriented, but there's no cruelty in his touch, no impatience. just steady, quiet control. the mask is still in place, but his movements are gentle as he carries you down the hall, the sound of running water growing louder with each step.

when he pushes open the bathroom door, steam curls in the air, the scent of something warm and herbal—lavender maybe—filling your lungs. your breath hitches. a real bath. not a bucket of cold water dumped over your head, not the rough scrub of a rag while you shiver on the basement floor.

the tub is already full, water glimmering under the dim light, little bubbles floating on the surface. konig kneels beside it, testing the temperature with his fingers before turning back to you. "can you stand?" he asks, voice low.

you nod, though your legs tremble when your feet touch the tile. his grip tightens just enough to steady you, his other hand sliding around your waist to keep you upright. the care in his touch is almost startling—like he's handling something fragile, something precious.

he helps you step into the water, and the moment it closes over your skin, you nearly whimper. it's so warm, so soft, the heat seeping into your sore muscles, loosening the tension in your back, your shoulders. you sink deeper, the water rising to your collarbones, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel clean.

konig doesn't rush you. he sits on the edge of the tub, one arm draped over the rim, watching as you slowly relax. when he finally reaches for the soap, his movements are methodical, careful. the washcloth glides over your skin, scrubbing away the grime, the sweat, the lingering traces of simon's touch. he's thorough but never rough, his fingers lingering just a little longer on the places where bruises bloom—like he's memorizing them.

when he reaches your hair, his touch turns almost reverent. he tips your head back, cupping water in his palm to wet the strands before working the shampoo through with slow, massaging circles. your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a quiet sigh escaping you. it's the closest thing to kindness you've felt in so long, and it makes your chest ache.

"better?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you can only nod, throat too tight to speak.

he hums in approval, rinsing the suds away before lifting you from the water with effortless strength. a plush towel wraps around you, absorbing the droplets as he pats you dry with surprising tenderness. his hands linger on your hips before he lifts you again, carrying you back to the bed.

the sheets are cool against your skin as he lays you down, but the warmth of the bath still lingers beneath your flesh. he looms over you, his masked face unreadable as he reaches for something on the nightstand—a small bottle of oil.

"gonna stretch this pretty little ass for me," he murmurs, uncapping the bottle. the scent of vanilla and something spicier fills the air as he pours the oil over his fingers, warming it between them. "you'll take it so well, won't you? always such a good girl for us."

his free hand spreads your thighs, exposing you completely. you shiver, but not from cold. there's something about the way he looks at you, the way his voice drops into that rough, possessive tone that makes your stomach tighten.

the first touch of his slick fingers against your rim makes you gasp. he circles slowly, teasing, watching how your body reacts. "so tight," he growls. "gonna ruin you for anything else."

just as the tip of his finger begins to press inside, movement catches your eye—simon, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. his gaze is dark, hungry, tracking konig's every movement. when he pushes off the wall and stalks forward, your breath hitches.

"look at that," simon murmurs, dragging a calloused finger through your folds. "already wet for it." his touch is rougher than konig's, less patient, but it sends a jolt of heat through you all the same.

konig chuckles, the sound low and pleased as he works his finger deeper. "she loves it," he says, twisting his wrist just enough to make you whimper. "don't you, little one? love being stuffed full?"

simon's fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles that have your hips jerking. "fuck," he breathes, watching konig push a second finger in. "look at her. greedy little thing."

the stretch burns, but the pleasure simon coaxes from your clit makes it impossible to focus on anything else. konig scissors his fingers, stretching you further, his other hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. "soon," he promises, voice thick with want, "it'll be my cock. gonna wreck this perfect ass until you can't walk."

simon leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "and i'll be right here," he murmurs, "playing with this pretty cunt while he does."

the plug is cold when konig presses it against your hole, but the way he works it inside—slowly—has you arching off the bed. simon's fingers curl inside you, matching konig's pace, and when the plug finally pops into place, you come with a broken cry, their praises ringing in your ears.

the room is hazy as they pulls away, simon's fingers glistening as he drags them slowly from your soaked cunt. you're still trembling, oversensitive and boneless, but he doesn't let you rest for long.

"open," he commands, pressing those same wet fingers to your lips.

you obey without thinking, tongue darting out to lick them clean, the taste of yourself sharp and familiar. simon hums, satisfied, before reaching for the tray he'd brought earlier. the food is simple but to you, it might as well be a feast.

simon doesn't hand it to you. instead, he picks up a piece of fruit, holding it to your mouth. "eat," he says, voice rough but not unkind.

you take a bite, the flavors exploding on your tongue, and you have to force yourself not to whimper. it's so good, so much better than anything you've had in what feels like forever. simon watches you chew, his dark eyes tracking every movement of your throat as you swallow.

"that's it," he murmurs, grabbing another piece. "good girl."

he feeds you like that making sure you take your time. konig watches from the foot of the bed. you can feel the weight of his gaze. it's heavy, possessive, and it makes your skin prickle even as exhaustion tugs at your limbs.

when the tray is empty, simon sets it aside and wipes your mouth with his thumb, the gesture almost tender. "sleep now," he orders, pushing you back onto the pillows.

you don't have the energy to resist, not when your body feels so heavy, so used. the plug inside you is a constant reminder of their claim, but right now, even that can't keep you awake.

the last thing you see is konig leaning over you, his hand brushing your hair from your face. "rest," he says, voice softer than you've ever heard it. "we're not done with you yet."

escape is the last thing on your mind as you doze off. 

the next morning, sunlight filters through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the bed. it had been so long since you'd waken up to the sun. you stir as the door creaks open, konig's broad frame filling the doorway. 

"morning, little one," he rumbles, voice still rough with sleep.

you sit up slowly, the soreness in your body a dull ache now, more memory than pain. the plug in your ass still feels foreign. konig crosses the room in a few strides, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "feel better?" he asks, tilting his head.

you nod, and something in his posture relaxes—just slightly.

"good," he says. "then let's get you dressed."

he doesn't give you a choice, but his hands are gentle as he helps you into fresh clothes—soft cotton pants, a loose sweater that smells faintly of him. when he kneels to slide socks onto your feet, his fingers linger over the fading marks from the shackle, his thumb pressing lightly against the tender skin. 

you had fallen so into routine with the two of them that your old life was a thing of the past. it's not like you had anything or anyone to go back to. at least here, you had a roof over your head and you didn't have to worry about when or what your next meal would be. 

"no more basement," he murmurs, more to himself than you.

"no more basement," you repeat after him. 

then he stands, offering you his hand. "come. you can see the rest of the house."

your breath catches. real freedom—even if it's just within these walls—feels like a dream. konig leads you through the hallway, his grip firm but not restraining. the house is larger than you expected, the floors polished wood, the walls lined with framed maps and black-and-white photographs.

but it's the library that makes you stop.

floor-to-ceiling shelves, packed with books of every color and size. your fingers twitch at your sides, itching to touch, to explore. konig notices, of course. he always notices.

"go on," he says, nudging you forward.

you don't need to be told twice. the moment your fingertips brush the spine of a book, something tight in your chest loosens. you pull one out at random, the weight of it familiar and comforting in your hands.

konig watches as you curl into an armchair, your knees tucked under you, the book open in your lap. he doesn't join you, just leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. but he doesn't leave either.

the silence is comfortable, broken only by the turn of pages. you lose yourself in the words, the story pulling you under, and for the first time in so long, you forget—forget the basement, forget the pain, forget that you're anything but a girl reading a book on a quiet morning.

until konig shifts, pushing off the wall. "simon's back," he says, and just like that, the spell breaks.

your fingers tighten around the book, but you don't protest when he takes it from you, marking the page with a slip of paper before setting it aside.

"later," he promises, his hand sliding under your chin, tilting your face up to his. "if you're good."

the rest of the day goes by in a blur, you even asked simon if you could cook dinner and he agreed although he was wary of letting you use a knife, reasonably so. 

the knife feels heavy in your hand—too much power after so long without any. simon watches from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, his dark eyes tracking every movement. you can feel his gaze like a physical weight, but you focus on the vegetables in front of you, slicing them carefully.

"slow," simon murmurs, stepping closer. his breath ghosts over the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "don't get too excited now."

you nod, forcing your hands to steady. the rhythm of chopping is almost meditative, the repetitive motion soothing. simon hums in approval, his fingers brushing your hip as he reaches past you for a glass. the casual touch makes your stomach tighten.

dinner is simple—pasta, roasted vegetables, a sauce simmering on the stove. it's more than you've cooked in months, maybe years, and the domesticity of it feels surreal. konig appears just as you're plating the food, his mask pushed up just enough to reveal the sharp line of his jaw. he inhales deeply, nodding.

"smells good, little one," he says, taking his seat at the table.

simon doesn't say thank you, but the way he cleans his plate tells you enough.

the meal is quiet, the only sounds the scrape of forks and konig's occasional low comment. you eat slowly, savoring each bite, hyperaware of their eyes on you. when you finish, konig takes your plate without a word, stacking it with the others.

then simon stands, stretching lazily before fixing you with a look that makes your pulse jump.

"bed," he says, tone leaving no room for argument.

you obey without hesitation, your body already reacting to the command. konig follows, his presence a solid warmth at your back as you climb the stairs.

your room is dim, the bed neatly made—just as you left it. but you don't get the chance to admire it before simon is pushing you onto the mattress, his hands rough but purposeful. 

"you did good today," simon murmurs as he strips you of your clothes, "so we'll make it good for you too."

the mattress dips under their combined weight as konig settles behind you, his massive frame caging you in. his thick thighs bracket yours, forcing your legs wider. you can feel the obscene stretch of his cock already—hard and leaking against your ass—as he works the plug inside you with slow, filthy twists.

"fuck, look at you," simon growls from between your legs, his calloused fingers spreading your drooling cunt wide. "clit all swollen and begging, and this greedy little hole—" he slaps it, making you jerk, "—dripping just from getting stuffed in the ass. fucking perfect."

konig’s hand fists your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat as he finally pulls the plug free with a wet pop. the cold air hits your stretched rim for just a second before he’s pressing the thick head of his cock against it, spit-slick and relentless.

"breathe, little one," he rumbles, but doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s sinking in, inch by brutal inch. your back arches, a broken scream tearing from your throat as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass.

simon doesn’t let you recover. he flips you onto your back, your legs hooked over his shoulders as he slams into your cunt in one brutal thrust. the angle is deep, his pubic bone grinding against your clit with every snap of his hips.

"that’s it, take it," simon grunts, his thumb pressing down hard on your clit as konig starts moving behind you. the stretch is unreal, your body stuffed impossibly full, their cocks rubbing against each other through the thin barrier of your walls.

konig’s hand slides around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur as he murmurs, "feel that? both of us inside you, owning you." his thrusts are slower, deeper, dragging against your oversensitive rim with every pull.

simon leans down, biting your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. "gonna fuck you so full, princess," he snarls. "gonna pump this tight cunt until it’s dripping with me—then watch as he seals it all inside you."

you’re sobbing now, your body strung tight between them, pleasure and pain blurring into one unbearable wave. konig’s free hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise as he picks up the pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips.

"come," simon demands, slapping your clit again. "come on our cocks like the filthy little thing you are."

you shatter with a scream, your cunt fluttering around simon as your ass clenches down on konig. they don’t stop—just fuck you through it, their groans mingling as they chase their own release.

simon comes first, his cock pulsing inside you as he grinds deep, filling you up just like he promised. konig follows with a low snarl, his thrusts turning erratic before he spills, his cum mixing with simon’s as it leaks out around his still-hard cock.

for a long moment, the only sound is your ragged breathing and the wet drip of their spend onto the sheets.

then konig leans down, plugging your ass again, now filled with his cum. "my perfect little one," he murmurs, pressing a kiss through his mask to your pulse point. "you did so well."

simon just smirks, tapping your swollen clit once more just to watch you twitch. your body is limp between them, every muscle trembling from overstimulation. for a moment, you think they’ll leave you like this—used and sticky and aching. but then simon shifts, his arms sliding beneath you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. you whimper at the movement, your oversensitive skin protesting, but he hushes you with a low hum.

"shh, princess" he murmurs, carrying you toward the bathroom. "we’ll take care of you."

the water is already warm when he lowers you into the tub, the heat soothing your sore muscles. konig follows, a damp cloth in hand as he kneels beside you.

"look at you," simon says, dragging the cloth over your stomach, wiping away the evidence of their claim. "so pretty when you’re all fucked out."

you shiver, but there’s no bite to his words—just quiet satisfaction. konig takes your hand, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles as simon cleans between your legs, his touch surprisingly careful despite the way you flinch.

when the water starts to cool, konig lifts you, wrapping you in a towel before carrying you back to bed. the sheets have been changed, fresh and soft against your skin. simon presses a glass of water to your lips, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to help you drink.

"slow," he warns, but his voice lacks its usual edge.

you swallow obediently, the water soothing your raw throat. konig climbs in beside you, pulling you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear. simon settles at your back, his arm slung over your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder.

"you can leave tomorrow if you want, the rest of the money promised to you will be wired to your account," konig murmurs into the quiet, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm. the words hang in the air, heavy and unexpected.

you go still against him.

simon’s grip tightens slightly at your waist, but he doesn’t argue. just waits for your response.

the offer is real. you can tell by the way konig’s chest rises and falls, measured and slow, like he’s bracing for something. like he already knows.

your throat feels tight. you think of whatever shitty life awaits you beyond these four wall. you had nothing to go back to. yes, the money would be nice but not as nice as whatever this was. you think of the careful way simon had fed you, the way konig had held you after. you think of the basement—the cold, the dark, the ache of being nothing.

and then you think of this.

the weight of them around you, the heat, the way their touches have started to feel less like a threat and more like...something else. something you don’t have a name for yet.

you press closer to konig, nuzzling into the space between his collarbone and jaw, his mask tickling your nose. his breath hitches, just slightly.

"no," you whisper.

simon exhales against your shoulder, his arm curling tighter. konig’s hand stills on your arm before sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the spot behind your ear.

"good choice, princess" simon rumbles, and you hear a rustle behind you followed by a kiss to your shoulder. you lean over to see that he had taken his mask off, it was your first time seeing him without it. your heart catches in your throat, you hadn't expected him to be that attractive.

konig doesn’t say anything. but when you tilt your head up to look at him, his mask is off, his dark eyes softer than you’ve ever seen them. he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours, and you close your eyes and drift off.

the days melt into weeks, then months, then years—each one softer than the last. the basement gathers dust, its door left permanently ajar until one day konig tears it off its hinges and turns the space into a wine cellar. you laugh when simon fills the first rack with cheap beer instead.

their masks stay off more often than not now. you learn the way simon’s nose scrunches when he laughs, the way konig’s eyelashes flutter against his cheeks when he’s fighting sleep. they learn the way you hum when you cook, the way your toes curl when they kiss that spot behind your knee.

mornings find you tangled in their arms, afternoons in the library with your head in konig’s lap as simon reads aloud (badly, on purpose, just to hear you giggle). evenings are spent on the porch, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of gold and violet, their hands never far from yours.

[zkg2318]

Corporate Life pt. 1

genre/tags ✶ MDNI office!au, sunghoon x afab!reader x heeseung, smut, cursing, not proofread

synopsis ✶ working in corporate was supposed to be boring, not a guessing game of whether your two coworkers were eye fucking you or not.

smut warnings ✶ ass slapping, penetrative sex, use of pet names (slut, princess, baby, good girl, etc...), exhibitionism, oral male!receiving, msm (kissing, blowjob), fingering, virgin reader, threesom

WC ✶ 4.7

@heesimp

read part 2 here | read part 3 here

For the fourth day in a row, Sunghoon stood over Heeseung, who was slouched over in his chair working at his desk. Sunghoon’s forearm muscles tense under his white button down as he grips the edge of Heeseung’s desk, leaning down just enough to whisper whatever the hell it was into Heeseung’s ear for the umpteenth time today. Heeseung’s gaze matches yours as he looks across the short partition that separates your desk from his, the corners of his lips slipping into the smallest smirk as you instinctively clench your thighs together, a heat spreading through your core. 

You watch Heeseung turn his head to meet Sunghoon’s intense gaze, their lips just inches apart in a way that felt far too intimate for the office. Your breath hitches and you quickly look away, feeling a furious red bloom across your cheeks. What the hell? Was this what corporate life was like every day? You had only been here for a week now, and so far the air had never failed to suffocate you with whispered conversations and heated glances that seemed to exclude you at every turn. 

With a forced sigh, you turn your attention back to the report open on your monitor, but the words seem to blur together into a mirage of meaningless jumble. With the weight of Heeseung’s stare burning into you and Sunghoon’s continued murmuring, you find it almost impossible to focus on the task at hand. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s lips brush against the shell of Heeseung’s ear as he moves closer, his body pivoting himself to block your view. 

It’s a relief when Sunghoon finally pushes off from Heeseung’s desk and returns to his own cubicle with a lazy stride. Without the weight of the two men’s presence, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, finding it easier to concentrate and breeze through the rest of your files in a timely manner. For the next few hours, the rapid sound of your nails hitting your keyboard fill the space as you complete your last ticket just before your first coffee break. 

Pushing back your chair, you rise to your feet and make your way to the breakroom; one that was thoughtfully stocked with an array of healthy snacks- greek yogurt, granola bars, protein drinks… Though you just wanted a moment away from your desk. As you travel to the breakroom, you’re oblivious to the silent exchange shared between Heeseung and Sunghoon, the latter standing up from his desk as he follows after you in a silent pursuit. 

The hum of the fluorescent lights offers a welcome change from the bright spotlights of your office as you make your way to the counter, starting up the coffee machine. Fingers tapping against the cool marble surface as you watch each drip of coffee fill the pot, Sunghoon lingers by the vending machine in the corner, pretending to inspect the selection of snacks. His presence feels like anything but casual as his eyes lazily scan through the rows of healthy snacks which were voted upon by the staff in a monthly survey sent out last month, though Sunghoon can confidently say he has never seen anyone use it in the last three months he’s been working here. 

When the coffee machine dings, you quickly pour yourself a cup and turn to make a quick exit, but you collide with Sunghoon’s solid chest. “Oh, sorry,” you stammer, trying to step around him, but he matches your move with a casual smile. 

“My apologies. Y/n, was it?” He asks, his eyes locking your gaze with his, keeping you rooted to your spot. “Oh, is that the new coffee blend everyone’s been talking about?” He gestures to the cup in your hand, and without waiting for your reply, takes it from your hand.

You open your mouth as if to say something, but the words die off your tongue when he takes a slow, deliberate sip from your cup. As his lips meet your cup, his eyes never fail to leave yours and you feel your breath catch in your throat when he hands it back to you. “Not bad,” he says as his lips curl into a smirk, “But I think it could use a little more sugar.” 

Your cheeks flare with an intense heat as you stumble back, struggling to regain your composure. His cologne invades your senses and you suddenly become acutely aware of the warmth of his body emanating against yours. Desperate to get away, you awkwardly side step him, muttering a quick “Excuse me,’ before practically sprinting back to your desk. 

Back in the partial sanctuary of your cubicle, you take a sip of your coffee, tasting the mint that was evidently left behind by Sunghoon’s chapstick. The thought of your lips indirectly touching his sends a thrill through you, making you squirm in your seat. Your core slickens once again at the idea of your lips meshing with your coworkers, but you force yourself to focus on your screen. 

It works for a few hours, though the quiet rustle of papers and the soft click of your keyboard is interrupted by Heeseung walking over to you. He stands beside your desk, leaning a bit too close for your liking, “Hey, are you having trouble accessing the file in the manager’s email too?” He asks, his voice low and intimate as he peers down at your screen. 

“Email? I don’t think I got any…” you reply, the sudden proximity making your heart race as you cower into yourself. 

“Really?” With the rise of an eyebrow, he moves to stand behind you, leaning down until his chest touches your shoulder and his tie brushes against the hand resting on your mouse. “Let me check,” Without warning, he places his hand over yours, guiding the mouse with firm pressure as he scrolls through your inbox. “That’s strange. Maybe you weren’t on the email list,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your cheek. 

“Was it important?” You ask, your voice catching as you clear your throat. Waiting for his response, you push your chair to the side, an attempt to create some distance between yourself and Heeseung. 

“It has some files we need for the meeting in ten minutes,” he replies, his gaze locking on yours, “But I’m sure we can manage without them. You’re coming, right?”

You nod, your shoulders relaxing once he steps back, giving you space to breathe. When he leaves, you collect yourself, taking a deep breath as you gather your laptop and notes. 

You take the ten minutes before the meeting starts as a way to have some time to yourself, entering the conference room first and taking a seat in the second to last seat at the end. The air is quiet, a stark contrast to the hum of chatter in the open office, and you use this time to organize your notes and adjust the settings on your laptop. 

A few minutes later, the door creaks open and you see Sunghoon stride in, a coffee in one hand as his eyes lock onto yours. He flashes you a smile before sliding into the chair directly next to yours despite the abundance of empty seats. You keep your eyes fixed on your laptop, but you can’t help but notice the intensity of his stare as he traces the lines of your profile as you pretend to type something important. 

“You look so beautiful when you’re focused,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. Your fingers freeze on your keyboard as the unexpected compliment sinks in. In the corner of your eyes, you see him lean back in his chair, spreading his legs wide until his knees press insistently against your own. The contact is warm and deliberate, sending waves of arousal down to your core. You shift in your seat slightly, acutely aware of the growing tension between you. 

As you move around in your seat, your gaze unintentionally drops downward, following the crease of his dress pants up to his lap. Your breath catches as you notice the way his navy blue dress pants fix around his groin, just barely letting you see the outline of his hardening bulge. A rush of heat floods your cheeks, your face burning as you force yourself to look away, but it’s too late. 

“Something catching your eye?” He teases, shifting slightly to bring his chair closer to yours. 

Your fingers hover uselessly over your keyboard as you think of an answer, but it proves futile as the meeting room door opens again, revealing Heeseung with a cool expression and papers tucked in his armpit. His gaze flickers between you and Sunghoon, as if catching onto the tension clouding the air before striding over to pull out the chair on your other side, sitting on the very end of the table. 

You sit in silence now, the minutes ticking by as the room slowly fills up with more and more coworkers. The once silent conference room now fills with a charged chatter as you make small talk with your coworkers, some you have acquainted yourself with and others you have yet to meet until today. You exchange polite conversation with your colleagues while you wait for the team leader, though your attention continues to drift back to Heeseung and Sunghoon. 

In due time, your team leader enters, carrying a stack of agendas that he drops in the middle of the table with a thud. Everyone leans forward to grab a copy, though Sunghoon stops you from grabbing one. He grabs two, giving you one while making sure his fingers brush against yours, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You look up at him, your pulse quickening as an electrifying heat replaces the absence of his touch when he draws his hand back. 

Heeseung notices the silent exchange between you and Sunghoon and draws himself closer to you, pressing his knee into yours, though you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not. “Okay, let’s get started.” The team leader says, addressing the smart board at the front of the room. 

Though you try to focus on the presentation at hand, your thoughts seem to scatter as the two men who have positioned themselves to sandwich you between them have made it nearly impossible for you to pay attention. The meeting feels like a blur as the hard voice of your team leader mingles with the erratic thrum of your heartbeat. You’re barely registering what’s on the presentation slides at this point- every nerve in your body is on fire as the two men next to you push every boundary you’ve put up. 

Heeseung’s touch is persistent as he’s started tracing patterns on your thigh, his movements getting bolder, and higher, with each passing minute. Each stroke feels like a taunt, as if daring you to react to his touch. Meanwhile, Sunghoon’s constant nudging with his foot has evolved into a game of footsies, much to your dismay. His shiny black dress shoes trailing up your bare legs every so often as he pretends to listen to the presentation. 

And suddenly, during a particularly boring part of the presentation, you feel a harsh squeeze on your thigh, the pressure bitingly possessive. The violent squeeze has you audibly gasping before you can stop yourself. “Y/n?” The team leader asks, grabbing the attention of everyone. “Did you have something you’d like to share with the team?”

Your heart lurches as you come up with an excuse on the fly, “No, sorry!” You exclaim, waving your hands in the air in a desperate attempt to dismiss his concerns. When he turns his back on you, you shoot Heeseung a look, but he only returns it with a satisfied smirk. 

As the meeting presses on, the pressure of Heeseung’s hand never lessens. If anything, it grows more insistent as his fingers slip under your pencil skirt in a slow and deliberate tease which leaves arousal pooling in the seat of your panties. Your fingers grip the edge of your arm rests, the knuckles of your hands going white as he slides his fingers across your panties.

On your other side, Sunghoon’s gaze darkens when he notices Heeseung’s hand under your skirt, and without warning, reaches for your own hand. He pulls your hand into his lap, guiding it to his hardened cock and palming himself over the smooth fabric of his dress pants. Your fingers instinctively curl around the unmistakable shape beneath the nice fabric, and the quietest groan slips past Sunghoon’s lips. He shifts slightly, the move small enough to go unnoticed by the rest of the room, but enough for his suit jacket to fall like a curtain and cover your joined hands. 

You fight yourself to keep your expression neutral, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress the moan that’s been threatening to escape for God knows how long now. Your pulse beats wildly as Sunghoon’s slender fingers cover yours, squeezing tighter around him, pushing your palm harder against his aching erection. “Be good,” he whispers, “Wouldn’t want to draw any more attention, would you?”

You offer him a shaky nod, your breath hitching as Heeseung’s fingers slip inside your panties. The chill of his fingers sends a wave of goosebumps down your body as he rubs them between your folds, smirking to himself when he feels your essence drenching his digits within seconds. “Fucking slut,” he hums, “Soaking your panties when you should be focusing on doing your fucking job.” You clench your fists as he whispers to you, wiggling your hips around as his palm digs into your clit, his fingers working slow circles on your pussy. 

Torn between shame and an embarrassing thrill of adrenaline burning through the pit of your stomach, you move your free hand down to Heeseung’s lap, mimicking Sunghoon’s hold and wrap your fingers around his thick erection. Smirking as Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat, you squeeze, giving him a taste of his own medicine. Blinded by lust, you start to move your wrists up and down, both for their pleasure and your own. You’re unsure of what more to do though, limited to stroking them up and down as you’ve never done more than just make out with your past partners. Never before did you think you’d ever find yourself to be in a situation like this. 

“So fucking greedy, touching us both at work.” Sunghoon mutters, adjusting himself in his pants so his cock lays on the left side of his pants.

Every second that goes by feels like an eternity, your coworkers remaining painfully oblivious to whatever's going on below the table.  It’s almost laughable how unaware they are of the way you bite your lip to suppress any noises coming out of you, or of the way Sunghoon won’t stop moving around in his chair, or even how weirdly positioned Heeseung’s arm is as he slides his fingers down your folds. 

When your team leader finally concludes his awfully boring presentation, you quickly push Heeseung’s hands away from you and make an effort to leave, but Sunghoon is quick to lay his hands on you, pushing you back down in your chair. “We’re just going to discuss some things here, we’ll be out in a bit.” Sunghoon says to your team leader. Fortunately for the boys, your manager doesn’t seem to question it as he gives you three a nod, following the rest of the team out of the conference room. 

When they all file out, Heeseung stands up, his arousal painfully obvious as he goes to lock the door to the room before coming behind you. You pull your hand away from Sunghoon’s lap when Heeseung comes up from behind and puts his hands on your chest, rubbing you through your white button down blouse. “Did you have fun in there, you fucking tease?” 

You don’t respond, instead you nervously chew on your lip and close your eyes, not wanting to believe this is real. “He asked you a question,” Sunghoon says, swiveling your chair around to face him. 

“I- I don’t know.” You squeak, turning your head as if you’re afraid of being scolded. 

“I sure as hell didn’t. Wanted to shove my cock in you that whole time.” Heeseung says, bringing his hand up to your chin to pull your face to his. “Tell me you want this. Want us.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, tempted to say yes but embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything like this. “I-I’ve never done something like this…”

Sunghoon and Heeseung share a glance, a small smirk playing on their lips before turning back to you. “Do you mean you’re a virgin?” Heeseung asks, the grip on your chin softening as his gaze turns into something more gentle. 

You nod at Heeseung shyly, your gaze flicking away from his as a rush of heat burns onto your face. “Baby, look at us,” Sunghoon murmurs, his hand resting on your thighs, covering both with an annoying ease. “Do you want to watch Heeseung and I first?”

Your mind flashes to earlier, back when you saw Heeseung and Sunghoon whispering to one another, their faces so close to each other you had almost wished they would just kiss to get it over with, to stop teasing you like you were some toy they could play with. So you nod your head, and Heeseung steps back with a smirk, gesturing for Sunghoon to stand up.

The two boys face each other, their hands immediately finding purchase around the other’s necks as they lock lips in a passionate kiss. Heeseung’s hands run through Sunghoon’s dark locks as Sunghoon grabs at his ass, slipping his tongue in when Heeseung moans in response. Their mouths create a mixture of lewd sounds that has your pussy throbbing for something to clench around, and you find your hand navigating north to quell the desire. 

Sunghoon’s eyes slip open and he looks over at you, spotting the way your hand has slipped under your skirt as you watch them kiss each other. Smirking, Sunghoon bites the bottom of Heeseung's lip and he lets out an erotic moan, pushing his hips into Sunghoon. Their bulges grow as the two men grind against each other, filling the room with their moans. 

Heeseung is the first to let his hand drop to Sunghoon’s pants, hurriedly palming the boy through his slacks. “Fuck, you’re so hard, Hoon.” He gasps in between kisses, squeezing his hand around his length. 

Sunghoon moves his hand from Heeseung’s ass to his own hardening member, mimicking Heeseung’s movement, “Suck me off, Hee.” He whispers, keeping his eye on you as you massage your breasts. 

Heeseung is quick to drop to his knees, undoing the belt on Sunghoon’s pants while the latter strips himself of his jacket. “Just undo my zipper,” Sunghoon says, desperation in his voice. 

Following his direction, Heeseung unbuttons his pants and zipper once the belt is undone. You scoot your chair a little bit closer so you can see a bit better, your jaw dropping when you see just how big his bulge is without the fabric of his pants impairing your sight. Heeseung places a few kisses over his black briefs, rubbing his hand over the bulge before pulling his underwear down. 

When his cock springs free, Sunghoon flicks his fingers in the air, garnering your attention. “Come, but don’t touch.” He points to the ground beside Heeseung, and you obediently move next to Heeseung to sit on your knees.

In front of you, Sunghoon’s long, thick cock stands erect, waiting to be stimulated. Heeseung spits on his hand, stroking the impressive length up and down a few times before placing his mouth over it. You watch Sunghoon suck in a breath, his jawline accentuating his pleasure as he throws his head back in response to Heeseung’s warm mouth enveloping his cock. “Fuck, lick my shaft, just like that.” 

Heeseung comes off of Sunghoon’s member to lick up and down his shaft, moving his hand to massage his balls as he does. Sunghoon’s dick bounces every time Heeseung’s tongue passes over a sensitive spot, leaving him a moaning mess under his touch. “Let Y/n have a turn, Hee.” 

Heeseung moves over just a little to make room for you, looking at you with encouraging eyes. Unsure of what to do first, you press a kiss to the top of his cock. “You’re so fucking cute, Y/n.” Heeseung coos, stroking your hair. “Place your mouth on it, baby.”

You do as he says, doing your best to wrap your lips around him and push your head down as far as you can go. You don’t get far before the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, leaving you gagging around him. Sunghoon pulls you off of his cock by your hair with a satisfied chuckle, “Careful, princess.” He strokes your cheek, “Try again.” 

His cock is covered in your saliva from your last attempt, and you swallow hard before trying one more time, placing his member back in your mouth. You have more success this time around, able to bob your head up and down, allowing Sunghoon to moan as your throat wraps around his cock when you get far enough. “Doing so good, Y/n.” He praises, threading his fingers in your hair. 

Too focused on sucking Sunghoon off, you fail to notice Sunghoon nodding at Heeseung, telling him to move behind you. With nimble fingers, he unzips your pencil skirt, taking your panties with it. You pull off of Sunghoon’s cock to protest, but Sunghoon is quick to shove you back on, this time bucking his hips into your face. He’s relentless as he does his best to thrust into your mouth, albeit shallowly, while Heeseung’s fingers slowly make their way up to your heat. 

Heeseung presses his chest against your back as you sit up on your knees, holding you against him in such an intimate way, you’d almost be asking him what this meant if you weren’t so full of cock. With Heeseung’s fingers rubbing circles around your clit and Sunghoon thrusting into your mouth, tears start to prick your eyes and you start to thank yourself for wearing waterproof mascara that morning. “I’m gonna put my fingers in now,” Heeseung says, collecting your slick with his fingers in one go. Sunghoon slows his assault on your face as Heeseung plunges one digit in, allowing you to get used to the sensation, “So fucking tight, my God.” He sighs, pumping his finger in and out.

You pull off Sunghoons cock, “M-more.” You gasp, looking up at Sunghoon. 

A rough slap to your ass has you crying out in pleasure, and you bite your lip to prevent your tears from falling. “Be patient, slut.” Heeseung scolds, “You should be grateful I’m even prepping you in the first place.” 

You whimper at his words, clenching around his finger before he adds a second. The stretch has you reeling in pain, but it quickly goes away and settles into a dull ache once he starts moving his hand again. When your body relaxes, Sunghoon sits down and pulls you into a kiss, not wasting any time to slide his tongue into your mouth. 

The familiar taste of mint chapstick from your coffee cup transcends onto your taste buds as he kisses you, a half-smile tugging at your mouth as you recall the memory of him stealing your drink. 

Sunghoon pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms around your waist in an intimate yet possessive grip. His kiss deepens, “You’re fucking ours, you got that?” A shudder rips through you at the thought of being claimed by both Heeseung and Sunghoon, though you don’t dwell on the thought for long.

As Heeseung’s fingers continue to pump into you, a coil begins to tighten in your lower stomach, “Heeseung, I feel weird!” you cry, instinctively clenching around his digits as the feeling intensifies. 

“My baby’s getting close to cumming, hm?” He coos, speeding up his pace. With a few more thrusts, you come undone around his fingers, a white film collecting around his fingers as he lets you ride out your high on his digits. “Good girl, you did so good for us.” 

You collapse against Heeseung, your head resting against his chest as you catch your breath. “We’re so proud of you, princess.” Sunghoon says before locking lips with Heeseung for a second time. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of lips smacking, just in time to see Heeseung’s tongue slip inside of Sunghoon’s mouth. The sight itself has you growing wet again, and you squirm in Heeseung’s hold. 

“Do you think you’re ready for our cocks now?” Heeseung asks, peering down at you as he disconnects himself from Sunghoon’s lips. 

You nod eagerly, letting the boys pick you up and place you onto the desk, your bare ass on the conference table while your legs dangle off of it. “Look how neglected you left our bambi…” Sunghoon chastises, rubbing his hand overHeeseung’s clothed erection, “You gonna let him use your hole?” 

Heeseung undoes his belt and button, not bothering to take them off like Sunghoon did and takes out a condom from jacket pocket. He gives himself a few quick pumps before slipping on the condom, biting his lip in the process. In one swift motion, he lifts your legs up so that they wrap around his waist, lining himself up at your entrance and prodding you with just the tip. “Let me know if it hurts, ok?” With that, he slowly pushes in, inch by inch, wincing as he feels your walls wrap around him. 

When he bottoms out, you wait for the pain to subside before giving Heeseung the go ahead to start moving. When you do, Heeseung’s pace is relentless as he pulls out and immediately snaps his hips back into you. The sudden intrusion has you crying out with pleasure, his cock opening you up in ways you’ve never experienced before. “F-fuck! You’re too big, Heeseung!” you cry, scratching at his back. 

“You can take it, slut!” He says, slamming into you. 

Sunghoon, who is standing a few feet away from the two of you, hand stroking his cock as he watches his best friend slam into you, steps forward. “You’re too tense, Y/n. Relax for us, baby.” He says, using his free hand to rub circles around your clit. With the extra stimulation, you relax around Heeseung’s cock, allowing him to move in and out of you at an easier pace. “There you go, baby.” He praises.

Heeseung leans forward under the guise of kissing you, and you open your mouth to accept his kisses, but instead, he spits into your mouth. “Swallow it,” he demands, snapping his hips into you. The lust in his voice sends a wave of desire rushing through you, making you swallow. “Good fucking girl,” he says, leaning down and kissing you this time. His lips are thinner than Sunghoon’s, but the passion is no less than the others as he continues to pound into you with your lips locked together. 

“Mmph, Heeseung- I’m gonna cum!” You moan, clinging to his arms as that familiar coil in your stomach tightens again. Heeseung subtly adjusts your position, slightly lifting your ass off of the table, allowing his cock to hit that spot. “T’s too much!” You cry, a tsunami of pleasure hitting you as your vision goes white. 

Heeseung, relentless in his thrusts, finds himself letting his release go as well when he feels your pussy tighten around his cock. Spurts of cum spill into the condom as his dick twitches inside of you, “Fuck, Y/n, cumming on my cock like that, you dirty girl.” He pants. 

You lay back on the table, Heeseung’s dick softening inside of you as the two of you catch your breath, but Sunghoon’s not done. “I’m close,” He says, approaching Heeseung with a look of desperation. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” Heeseung asks, gripping Sunghoon’s hair. Sunghoon bites his lip, the speed of his hand increasing as he listens to Heeseung talk to him. “Look at you, so desperate to cum, but you can’t without getting off to my voice.” 

Heeseung looks over to you with his eyebrow raised, as if expecting you to say something. Instead, you sit up, leaning on your arms and beckon Sunghoon over to give you a kiss. You capture his lips in a smoldering kiss, letting out the most erotic moans as encouragement. “Cum for me, Sunghoon.” 

And with that, thick, white ropes of cum spurt out of his slit, landing across the conference table while his head is thrown back in pleasure, moans leaving his mouth like a chant. 

“Next time, Sunghoon will fuck you.” Heeseung says. 

read part 2 here | read part 3 here

[angelsforthenight]

screen babe, mean babe, guess who’s gonna cream babe!

camgirl!vi x reader (part 1) pt 2 here!

summary: you spend every night in the safe confines of your room hopelessly jerking off to your favourite camgirl, PinkSage. but what happens when your family is providing accommodation to the same damn woman in your house for the summer?

cw: mdni, long fic, pornstar!vi, bratty sub!vi, switch!reader, vi’s name is revealed later in the fic, parasocial, delusional and obsessed reader 😭, cursing, bitchy!reader, bitchy!vi, voice fixation, vi has nipple piercings, nipple play, licking & spitting, use of dildo, embarrassing moments be aware….

a secret. you had a secret. and no, not one of those teensy-weensy mediocre secrets such as you still wet the bed or that you steal from pharmacies — this one is big… or at least it feels big.

each and every night, whenever the clock hits eleven, you find yourself sitting on your bed: cursor hovering over www.butchbabes.com - a website you had frequently, frequently visited before. you click on your following and patiently wait for your favourite camgirl to start streaming, who’s always on time.

PinkSage is a muscular woman who never dares show her face on camera, concealed with a leather cat mask that takes up half of her face. what may come across as bothersome, is enjoyable to you and her many other viewers instead. the fact that you’re not able to see her is what adds to the thrill, the mystery. it’s all a massive tease, and you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve came to her, at one point even damaging your computer because you squirted all over the keyboard!

unfortunately, you live in a world where women are chastised for their desires. easily stigmatised, unlike their male counterparts: where it is normalised for men to be perverted. while a man is just a man for getting off on watching women getting beaten, slapped and choked, women are revolting creatures for masturbating to even the tamest of pornography.

fear crawls up your spine at the thought of anyone finding out that what you masturbate to are masculine camgirls, or at least one camgirl in particular. as a result, you go out of your way to feign complete innocence to the outside world. as far as anybody else knows, you’re a uni girl focused on her studies; nothing more, nothing less. behind closed curtains, however, it’s nobody else’s business that you beseech filthy pleads underneath your breath as you’re close to reaching your climax — as if PinkSage could hear you through the screen. that you anticipate pay-check day, not to spend the money responsibly but instead using it all to gift her; your heart spiking in your chest whenever she’d personally call you out.

“always treating me so good your_user, love you.” she’d say, her voice lilted in a sultry drawl: quiet yet faintly cooing. you hang onto every single word, brandishing them in your head so it lingers for days and days. ‘always’. PinkSage recognises you as being a frequent gifter. you’re so happy, as if you won the goddamn lottery.

you’re obsessed, tremendously obsessed.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

hence, here you are: 10.59 on the clock as you constantly refresh her page to see if she’s on live yet. clock strikes eleven and you see big glowing red letters flashing ‘ON LIVE.’ your stomach flutters in excitement, a feeling you never tire of, and your fingers rapidly fly to click it.

there she is, in all her glory, wearing a tight dark tank top and playboy boxer briefs. the leather cat mask sits comfortably over her eyes as always. you gush at the sight of her. she’s pretty close to the camera, hand hovering over the mouse as she watches all the viewers and comments gallop in like it’s a stampede. her plush lips crackle into a grin, flaunting those perfect teeth. teeth you want nothing more than to suck on. and those fucking fingers?? you’ve never wanted anything stuffed in your mouth more.

“hey guys.” comparable to warm honey: satiny and velvety. you could drown in her voice. “missed me?”

and here goes the comments,

lezout69: YES WE MISSED UUU

tipsyflower: God I was waiting all day

m4niacan0nymous: can you show us ur feet

dykeyfamgirl: today felt long as hell I’m so happy to see you ;—;

orchidstar_: I missed u pinksageeee

girlongirlfanman: Start playing with your nipples now

bluesage111: IMS O FUCKING EXCITED HOLYSHIT IM

they all pop in at the same time. you, however, don’t comment anything, because you know that she’s going to respond with:

“fucking hell you guys need to relax… you saw me last night. freaks.” she snickers. it’s an ongoing bit that PinkSage makes fun of her viewers. audiences always eat it up: they like the idea of being degraded by her, humiliated. you? maybe on certain days. most of the time, you’re not so sure. why make fun of people that gift and pay to watch you all the time? it always rubbed you the wrong way, but because you worship PinkSage like she’s an angel, you choose to not dwell on it too much. after all, some things are for some, other things are for others.

“can you flex your muscles…” PinkSage reads. your heart does a backflip at the sound of the amused chuckle that follows right after. you’ve always admired how much fun she has doing her streams.

“fine. i’ll even do something extra.” she reaches for something on her desk, which culminates in her moving even closer to the camera; pierced nipples hidden underneath her tight top being paraded for everyone to watch. your tongue fleetingly swipes across your bottom lip, an unconscious movement that you find yourself doing each time she does subtle teasing movements like these.

she comes back with pink satin ribbon. “this is for the coquette bitches i see in my comments.”

she curls up her arm, wrapping the ribbon into a sweet little bow around her bicep. she then flexes her arm hard, making the flimsy ribbon tear apart in mere seconds. the comments go crazy.

wiccanyindigo8: OH MY FUCKING GOD???

sullenlambgirl: CAN SHE DO THIS TO ME PLSSSSS

tipsyflower: FUCKCKKCKCK

girlongirlfanman: Nah that shit was fake I swear

angelsforthenight: LMFAOOOOIWANTYOUTOFUCKMESOBADOOOOO

bluesage111: my neck next plz !!!!!!!!!!

m4niacan0nymous: yeayea can you show us ur feet now

abracadabragagafan27: I’m cumming🤤🤤

dykeyfamgirl: SHSJDKDJDNAK

bluesage111: @girlongirlfanman stfu

sweetdazekid: P U S S Y I N B I O 👅🥵💦

you have fun reading the comments, as it’s always a goddamn story; entertaining as hell. these people cannot be real. you have the hypocritical habit of differentiating yourself from these desperate swines, as if you’re not secretly worse.

and of course, PinkSage is already gifted a generous amount from a handful of viewers for that move and that move alone. you’re happy for her, so much so that you’re smiling with her. yes, you’re heavily parasocial, but do you care? no!

“should we move onto the real deal now?” she coos, leaning back on her desk chair and mindlessly swinging it from side to side. she has a flair for wrapping everyone around her finger: amassing almost a million subscribers. there’s six hundred thousand people watching her stream right now. she’s like a mother bird about to feed her children, having all the little baby birds screech and strain for a sliver of attention.

“been so fucking frustrated all day, i need this…” she mutters, her breathing palpably growing heavier as she lifts up her top above the swell of her breasts. you most likely have her boobs memorised in your head, but every time she reveals them it’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. pink buds with metal shoved in between. fucking euphoric.

she catches one between the pad of her thumb and forefinger, slowly rolling it, the tip of her finger rubbing the edges of it too. low groans do not fail to leave her lips immediately. they’re so sensitive that she’s visibly twitching. one of the gifts tell her to flick her nipple and she does what she’s told, a little ‘ooh’ weaselling out of her. without hesitation, the flood gates of your pussy open up, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. you’re only going to touch yourself when she starts to touch herself.

for now, she showers attention on the other nipple; her needy noises growing stronger. you imagine how wet she must be right now, teasing herself like this for the sake of pleasing her viewers. poor thing. your undying empathy for her is why you’re willing to ignore how drenched your panties are, refusing your touch yourself until she starts to pleasure her cunt.

“fuck, i’m so wet.” she whines. her voice always starts off low, but the more desperate she gets, the higher it becomes. the sexiest thing in the world. the tip of her nails are dragging down her deliciously toned stomach, slowly slipping underneath her waistband. you lean back, wriggling comfortably against your pillows as you mirror her actions. despite PinkSage basically having no idea who you are, you’ve always felt so intimate masturbating with her, going along with her pace. in a strange way, it feels like you know her.

you can see her knuckles protruding from her boxers, stroking her clit in tight circles underneath.

tipsyflower: she’s alwaysssss teasing us i swear 😩

the familiar gift noise pings through, a sound of coins jingling.

abracadabragagafan27: (GIFTED PINKSAGE $5.99!) Take the underwear off!

“your wish is my command, baby.” PinkSage twinkles, making a show of slowly pulling her boxers off, inch by excruciating inch. her pink happy trail (yes, the curtains do match the drapes, duh) marshal into the beautiful alcove of her mound, her bush glistening from how soaked she is. she resumes her movements, slender fingers slipping inside her pussy with ease. her knuckles flex as she goes deeper and deeper inside, her jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.

all this and you know she isn’t actually going to cum. she’s merely stretching herself out for the actual real deal. you’ve always thought on why PinkSage appeals to you so much… maybe it’s the fact that she conceals her face, so there’s that uninterrupted enigma and that you’ll probably never know what she looks like. a cruel tease.

or maybe it’s the fact that in a world where butches and muscular women are expected to be dominant and rough, PinkSage has no problem exhibiting herself as someone who leans more onto the submissive side: pliant and self-abasing, whilst simultaneously being mean and not taking anybody’s shit. in a way, it feels revolutionary. PinkSage stands out, and that’s why she’s currently at number one in your trusty ButchBabes website, and why you refuse to watch anyone else.

“i’ll let you filthy bitches pick for me, okay?” despite her catty language, her face is flushed and her chest is heaving. she did just edge herself after all, and in tandem, so did you. she reaches for something below her desk and pulls out two toys. a pink vibrator wand and a clear glass seven inch dildo — each in one hand. she waves them, a smug grin settled on her lips.

“vibrator?” she playfully licks a stripe up the wand, “or dildo?” she does the same, her tongue dragging across the shaft. she knows exactly what she’s doing, she always does. every movement is coordinated: done on purpose to elicit reactions from her audience.

you’re too lost in the haze of your lust to reach for the keyboard, so you merely watch as the majority of the viewers pick the dildo. you couldn’t care less on which one they picked, as long as you got to watch PinkSage pleasure herself.

“good choice.” she praises, throwing the wand away and leaning back in her seat, spreading her legs and giving the viewers an accessible view of her pretty pussy. she rubs the dildo down her slit, smearing her arousal. but she isn’t done: she brings the dildo up to her lips, dribbling spit down the model to lubricate it enough. your breath catches in your throat at the sight. you need to touch yourself, thighs trembling and squishing together, but you compel yourself to wait.

her breathing is palpable, loud and rapid enough to tell that she’s excited. sometimes you wonder if this is all an act, or if she genuinely forgets about the camera and pleasures herself without a care in the world.

she finally sinks the toy in, starting off with short and rapid strokes. the sounds of her sopping cunt are obscene: a drawled low moan leaving her lips as she tips her head back. “fuuuck.”

your own fingers start to move again, a strangled moan buried deep in your throat threatening to loom to the surface. PinkSage is just so perfect, her hips bucking and twitching; lower back arching as she starts to fuck herself with the dildo deeper. low groans quickly alter into high keens and destitute whines, her fingers flying to her nipple and pinching it to increase the stimulation. you curse under your breath at the smutty sight.

an idea suddenly zips through you and suddenly your fingers are out of your pants and on the keyboard. you’re gonna gift her. just as she’s about to cum, you’re gonna gift her and she’s going to orgasm thanking you. how fucking smart is that?

and luckily, the universe hears your wishes.

your_user: (GIFTED PINKSAGE $24.99!)

you settle back, fingers flying back to your pants as you bite your lip, waiting in anticipation for the loud jingling noise to catch her attention. and you’re blessed when it does.

“oh fuck!” she mewls louder at the sight of your gift, the dildo moving faster, “fuck, your_user, th—mmnfg—thank you so much, i’m cumming… fuck, your_user…”

with that, she keens loudly, head thrown back against the desk as she creams all over the toy. in tandem, you cum so hard you see stars. you cannot believe that happened. PinkSage huffs loudly, slowly pulling the dildo out. incomes the white pearly froth spilling down from her pussy and onto the seat. in your post orgasmic daze, you think you’re dreaming, but you dazedly watch the comment section and they prove otherwise.

dykeyfamgirl: wait i’m so jealous???

galadbdhs22: No fuckijf way

wiccanyindigo8: another hot orgasm yet againnnn

tipsyflower: I HAD NO IDEA SHE CAN DO THAT

bluesage111: i gotta try this next.

sallyfacefan: Will she give us another one? i need my name spilling from her lips

jerkheroff: THATS NOT FAIRRRRR

a dopey grin finds itself on your lips. everyone’s jealous. she said your user aloud — your name, mind you, whilst reaching her climax, but not theirs. you’ve been a fan for ages, you know she hasn’t done that with anyone else. you’re special and they’re not.

“no, i’m not giving you guys another. shoulda gotten there before your_user did.” your stomach flutters so hard you might as well float away. “thanks for watching, see you later filthies.” she puts her fingers in a rock and roll sign, her signature goodbye before logging off stream. you stare at the black screen with the white words reading ‘Live Ended’ for a long minute. dare this be the best night of your life?

you sleep extra well that night, replaying that moment in your head over and over again until it lulls you asleep, fantasising on what you would do if you two had ever met. if you had her right in your palm.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

the following morning, you awake with a smile adorning your lips. birds are singing outside, branches of the eucalyptus tree are rustling from the warm breeze. the sun is kissing your eyelids… besides, PinkSage literally orgasmed screaming your name last night. that’s your first pleasant thought of the morning; the way her face scrunched up, eyes half-lidded as she babbled your name. sure, it might’ve sounded like her words clustered together just as she was on the precipice of climaxing, but you alongside the rest of the 600K viewers heard it loud and clear. phenomenal. you almost hate yourself for not screen recording, but you don’t fret; sensing that it’s tucked in each and every crevice of your brain. shit, you’d inject the moment into your bloodstream if you could.

you yank your phone off your charger and take a look at social media. after mindlessly swiping through instagram stories and checking your tiktok notifications, your thumb glides over to twitter. your feed refreshes, and the first tweet is PinkSage’s.

PinkSage @PinkSagee420

hey guys going on hiatus for a bit </3 sorry no stream tonight and more nights to come :(( love y’all tho!

your face has never fallen faster. you sit up, blinking repeatedly and praying that your eyes are somehow proving you wrong. but no matter how hard you try, there it is: imprinted on your screen. going on a hiatus for a bit… love y’all tho! you furrow your brows. you bet she was smiling whilst typing that tweet. she so doesn’t give a fuck. what the hell are you meant to do now? was her hiatus so impromptu that she couldn’t have mentioned it on stream last night? instead of a half assed tweet? love y’all tho! ending the tweet like that is what grates on your nerves the most. if she really loved you, she wouldn’t go!

ugh. you quickly realise you’re being stupid and selfish, and you cringe at yourself. for fuck’s sake, PinkSage could be going through something serious and personal for all you know. you’re just freaking out because it’s the first time she’s ever taken a break. you’ve become so used to your nightly routine, so embedded in your grotty secret that you can’t help but feel as if you’ve been thrown off course. jesus, it feels like a break up.

your mind quickly diverges to solutions. PinkSage already posts some pretty smutty stuff on her Twitter, and then there’s the ButchBabes website — but you’d have to be a premium member to watch her pre-posted, long videos. as tempting as it sounds, having a subscription to a porn website just sounds… ew. you’re not that down bad. then again, there’s PinkSage’s patreon…

the sound of your door swinging open snaps you out of your thoughts, and you jerk your head up to see your dad resting his arms on your doorframe.

“morning. what’s with the long face?” he murmurs. you didn’t even notice your face was stuck in a frown since you read the tweet. “nothing. what’s up?”

“our guest is coming soon. earlier than expected, surprisingly. guess she’s eager to see us.” he smiles. she. at least it’s a woman this time, and one person. the last guests you had were a group of college boys, scruffy and loud and disrespectful, as if they were toddlers. they left your house a mess after!

that’s right, you’re a host family. offering a home and support to international/exchange students or volunteers. well, you don’t really do anything. whilst your parents offer them a bed to sleep in, give them meals and help them transport their way around your area, you do so much as smile at them, occasionally greeting them if you happened to bump into them. most of the time, however, you’re locked in your room. at some points you even wait until the living room is empty for you to go downstairs to eat. you’ve never been interested in making friends with your guests. they’re just there for a house, and you have enough friends.

“better get dressed.” your dad curtly pats the door before slipping away. you sigh, slumping back on your bed to wallow for just a little longer. you’re still very much bummed about PinkSage’s hiatus after all, and not even a female guest could lift your mood.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you tip toe down the corridor, holding your breath as you try not to make a creak in the old floorboards. you peer down the staircase, straining your ears to hear the conversation taking place.

the guest is here, and she seems to be a goddamn comedian with the way she’s making your parents laugh. even your usually stony mother is dying laughing. just who is she?

you regret not getting ready earlier, because now you’ll have to awkwardly step downstairs, suffer through the silence before everyone’s attention will be on you. you steel yourself, slowly descending down the stairs. you predicted the pause in laughter and chatting before it even came.

“she’s alive!” dad says as you reveal yourself. how embarrassing! you want to flip him off, but you’d get killed.

“oh, is this your daughter? hey!”

your eyes flash up to the woman as quick as light. is— wait, are you tweaking? okay, maybe the PinkSage withdrawals are hitting faster than you think, because that voice and that hair…

“i’m violet, but you can call me vi.” she approaches you and extends her hand, those fingers. nah… no fucking way.

you realise you’re staring at her hand for too long when your mother clears her throat. “y/n…”

“sorry, aha.” you take her hand. she has a firm grip. you dare a glance at her face again. powdery blue eyes and a little amused smile. PinkSage smiles like that…

“she gets shy. oh, and you two are the same age actually!” your dad grins. you cut him a glare, wishing he could shut up. does he revel in your embarrassment?

“are you a student?” you find yourself asking. since when did you give a shit?

“nah, i’m volunteering. animal care.” vi replies, and she sounds very proud of herself. you nod quietly and smile, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“okay. if you don’t mind i’m going to do homework now, nice meeting you.” you mutter with haste, padding back up the stairs. your mother tries to call for you to come back, probably deeming you as disrespectful.

“it’s chill, ‘girls got homework to do.” you hear her say. she sounds so cool, so… suave. PinkSage would say something like that.

you immediately scrounge for your phone once back in your room, whipping out PinkSage’s profile to scrutinise her. there’s plenty of women with pink hair, and vi was wearing a navy oversized jumper, so you can’t even tell if she has the same muscles or not. but that voice… her voice. you zoom in on PinkSage’s hair. her way of styling it is very unique, and similar to vi’s. eerily similar. your heart starts to pound in your chest. what if…? you want to be aloof, in fact, you’re genuinely trying to prove yourself wrong. okay, you’ve fantasised about what you’d do if you met her, like, an innumerable amount of times… but they were fantasies for a reason! who was expecting for her to live in your house for whoever the fuck knows how long!?

your fingers are trembling, and you’re months down on her posts. it sure is a weird coincidence that PinkSage is on hiatus, and suddenly there’s a woman that sounds and maybe looks like her in your house! is this a sick joke? is the universe having fun?

a tentative knock that sounds nothing like the ones of your parents (they never fucking knock) scares the shit out of you, making you whip your head too quick and because your head was too close to the headboard, you banged against it.

“fuck! i-i mean, come in!” you frantically call out. vi is visibly holding in a laugh when she peers through the door.

“are you good?” oh my god, she heard that. your ears burn alongside the pain mingling through your head.

“yeah, i’m—i’m good. breezy.” you close your eyes and nod like a bobble head. what the fuck is breezy?

“…right. you probably already know this but i’m sleeping next door. i was wondering if it was cool if i use your bathroom? i wake up at night.” she smiles sheepishly. you blink at her.

“sure! yeah, that’s completely fine! it’s not even my bathroom per se, i mean my parents just say it’s my bathroom ‘cuz i keep all my stuff there and it’s right across my room and they use the downstairs one, but you’re… hah…” you’ve been rambling so much you’re out of breath! vi giggles. maybe she’s just a really good PinkSage impersonator. that could be it. yeah.

your eyes follow her nervously as she steps closer inside the room, gazing at your cork-board full of polaroid photos, calendars and photo booth strips. her fingers graze the cd player below it, and then she skims through the cds on your crate as if she’s in a music shop. she’s pretty comfortable touching your stuff without even asking…

“nice.” she whips her head to glance at you, staring at you up and down. you swallow.

“i thought you were doing homework.”

you brow settles in a furrow. “… i finished.” you lie through your teeth.

“do i make you uncomfortable or something?” the swift delivery of that question sweeps you off your feet, and you find yourself speechless.

“i would hate to make you feel that way. to be fair, i think i’d also hate people in my house.” she continues, as if this is all so casual. that i-don’t-give-a-fuck mindset is something you’re not so sure you’re rolling with.

“what? that’s— that’s not it.” you sputter, blinking repeatedly. vi smirks in return. “good, then.”

she turns around and leaves, whilst you sit there: dumbfounded. good, then? this vi girl sure is conceited, skimming her fingers over your stuff just to leave like that? what is this, a movie? and leaving your door open, no less! where’s the decency? you bet she was going to use your bathroom regardless if you had said yes or not.

you don’t want to think of vi as PinkSage. whilst the camgirl enacts cockiness as something sexy; playing it off well, this vi woman just comes off as arrogant. they’re different women, they must be. you open your phone to the post you left off at: one of PinkSage’s mirror pics, showing off her back tattoo. you linger on it, feeling like a housewife that’s had her husband leave for war. you miss her already.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

you discreetly wait for vi to be finished with dinner so she can piss off to her room whilst you can eat without her amused gaze burning your retinas. as if your entire existence is funny to her. could you blame her? you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than you can say ‘i.’

it’s eleven. PinkSage would be streaming right now… but alas, she’s gone - not even specifying how long she’s away for. you feel a pang of sadness. you eat your food, watching a video essay in the empty living room. parents are sleeping by now, and vi’s upstairs. despite the faint sounds of your fork hitting the plate and the murmur of the youtube narrator, it’s really quiet. you wonder if vi is asleep by now too.

you pad back up the stairs after eating. vi’s door is open and you have to pass by her room to get to yours. a little peek on what she’s doing wouldn’t hurt would it? especially when she entered your room and touched your stuff without hesitation.

but as you fleetingly side-glance, your stomach churns in a way that makes you want to throw your dinner back up. you catch vi in the middle of putting her sports bra on, but it’s not even that: it’s what you see on her back, down to her triceps. the same fucking back tattoo. the same cogs, same plumes of steam, same machine parts… PinkSage. that’s Pink-goddamn-Sage, and you can’t even deny it anymore. evidence is all there: nobody else has a tattoo as specific as that one, nobody else styles their hair like she does, nobody else has that sensual ass voice: inviting and erotic. your favourite thing about her.

“holy mother of god.” you find yourself saying aloud, distractedly. vi yelps and whips around to glare at you.

“jesus, do you knock?” she huffs, grabbing her tank top and yanking it over her head.

“i… i know who you are.”

pt 2 now here!

a/n: very loosely inspired by this fic on ao3 so check it out! it’s been a while since i done a series omg!!! so excited for u guys to read this one ahhh >< i’m thinking of doing three or maybe four parts to this series.

[bbokicidal]

Loser In A Hot Body [2]|SKZ [L.F.]

Synopsis: Felix is tired of taking your relentless teasing when it comes to sex so he decides to reverse the roles.

Genre: smut Pairing: Lee Felix x Fem!!Reader Warnings: Virgin!Loser!Felix, Mean?Dom!Felix, PinV, spanking (not on the ass), lots of teasing

Part One | This part is also a lot shorter than the last, it's just considered a little add-on to the first part.

"Ah -! Mmnh--"

"That's right - That's what I thought. Acting all tough and then the second I take control you turn into a whiny little bitch," Felix's voice is heavy with lust and adoration as he grinds his cock into you from behind, rolling his hips into your own so he hit the deepest parts of you he could. "Listen to you; So desperate." Of course, he had to throw that word out there considering you'd spent the last, what, year of your relationship together making him feel like a perverted desperate virgin who would never get pussy in his life. He just wanted to rub it in a little.

"You really thought you could get away with teasing me all that time and I wouldn't do anything about it? That I wouldn't snap eventually and take what I wanted? Or was that what you were aiming for this whole time?" Your boyfriend leans down so his chest presses against your shoulder blades, his breath hot against your ear while he speaks and rips into your behavior from previous times before. "You really thought I was just your weak, loser boyfriend."

This was what you got for teasing Felix relentlessly over the months of you two being together. He'd sat and looked pretty for you time and time again, letting you get away with palming at his cock over his jeans while he gamed or making him rut against you like some dog in heat. He'd let it slide multiple times and while he did enjoy it in the moment, it almost always frustrated him afterwards. You knew he was a virgin and you would tease him constantly about it. Wouldn't a loving girlfriend be so eager to be his first?

One of his hands had fisted into your hair, ringed fingers curling around damp strands from your shower and twisting once to make sure he had a good hold. You weren't getting away from him this time. His free hand had settled onto your lower back to keep you somewhat steady against his gaming desk, fingers splayed over your skin and pushing down to pin you where he wanted you.

That's right - He'd bent you over his desk, pressed your face down close to his keyboard, and pulled the thin little shorts you'd slid into after your shower aside so he could get a peek at your pussy. At first you had assumed he was just being perverted and trying to rile you up so you would sit on his lap while he gamed or something - Grind down on his cock til he creamed in his sweats and tried to hide his moans from his mic. The moment you'd realized he wasn't playing nice was when you gave a tantalizing sway of your hips and you were met with Felix's palm coming down against your cunt in a sharp slap. It was enough to make you jolt, closing your thighs in slight embarrassment before he had pushed them back open and slipped two fingers into you with ease. Now it was his turn to tease you. "You're practically dripping. You like having your pussy spanked?"

"Come on, open your mouth. Tell me the truth." Felix chides with a knowing chuckle, making it a point to push his cock into you deeper with every stroke just so he could feel the way your hips shook against his own when his tip kissed and prodded at your poor cervix.

"Yes --! Yes, fuck -- I wanted to rile you up all the time so this would happen and you'd - fuck the shit out of me," You admit with a heavy gasp, your cheeks painted red and stained with a few tears that had fallen from the feeling of your boyfriend finally taking control and taking what he wanted. That and the iron grip he had on your hair.

Felix's mouth falls open as he peers down at you through lidded eyes, almost a little surprised you'd admitted to him that you just wanted to rile him up this entire time. There's a break in conversation then where the only sound filling the room is the slap of his hips against your own and your whines mixed with the quiet groans that escape your boyfriend. He chuckles after a while and bites into his lip, sucking in a breath before he speaks again. It's all in good fun - all teasing and light hearted. He knew you'd never purposefully do anything to upset him. "I can't believe you would do such a thing to me. If you wanted me to be rough with you, you could have just asked." His hold tightens on your hair, free hand pushing down to grip at your hip instead. He'd be sure to leave little bruises of his fingerprints - for keepsake, of course.

"'m sorry," Your gasps are met with the sound of Felix huffing out a breath in reply. "Sorry, Lix -- I didn't mean to make you mad." Your hands fumble to grab onto anything you can as his hips all but pound into you from behind, his cock making you melt from the inside - turning your guts to mush with how rough he was being. You end up knocking his keyboard askew which he would get at you later for, but in the moment it didn't matter as your hands curled around the edge of his desk and held onto it even as it rocked beneath your weight.

The blond sighs out as he pulls himself back up, standing tall as he pushed into you slower than before - but still just as rough. "Oh, baby. I'm not mad." Felix's eyes slipped shut before he let his head roll back, taking in and basking in the feeling of your gummy sopping wet walls hugging and squeezing around his cock. Finally. "Just can't believe you thought I would let it slide after all this time." Felix's hips snapped forward once more before he glanced down, watching the way your thighs trembled where you were bent over. A breath escaped his lips as he slowly pulled out, cock dragging against your walls in the most delicious way.

When you whimper and peek back at your boyfriend with glossy eyes, he can't do much but chuckle in both adoration and amusement. "What? You think I'm going to let you come after all the shit you've put me through?" His brow cocks and a smirk tugs at his lips just from the way you quiver at his words. He gives a small swat to your hip to get you to move to the side, his body slipping past you so he can drop down in sit in his chair.

Felix's gaze darts back to you as he sees your hands fall to your thighs, attempting to move your shorts back into place as you grow to assume he's done with you. "Ah," He scolds in a chiding tone, his hand smacking at your own to get you to let go of your shorts. Your hands jolt away and you look at him with soft eyes, a bit teary from not getting the relief you craved so badly. But Felix doesn't give into the doe-eyed look you give him and gestures towards his lap, spreading his thighs just a bit to give you an even better view of the way his cock leaked against his abdomen and coated honey kissed skin with cum that dared seep from his tip. "You're going to sit here while I game. And if you move," Felix huffs out a breath, shaking his head. He looks up at you when you don't move for a moment, your head fuzzy and words gone. So he snaps his fingers once before pointing back down at his lap, chuckling when you finally shift to face him and come closer.

"Sit."

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @pixie-felix @hpnsfwddict

@schniti-is-in-the-house @minniesverse

[mandukkul]

#14 for niki for the 1k celebration event🤭🤭

3:45pm – nrk

tags: ni-ki x reader (established relationship), fluff, prompt #14: “your cheeks are really soft.” “stop squishing them!”

word count: 0.7k , not proofread, likes + comments + reblogs appreciated

°❀⋆manny's 1k celebration event .ೃ࿔*:･

Ni-ki couldn't think of anything worse. 

At first, he thought today would be the best day ever. He had a day off that coincided with your free time, his members all were out for the day and so, today of all days, a once in a blue moon occurrence, you two had the house to yourselves. 

And yet, here you were, sitting at the end of his couch, laptop on your lap, typing away on an assignment that's not due for another month. 

Ni-ki found himself situated close to you, rubbing closely against your side, feeling your arms move as your fingers glide against your keyboard. He was able to subdue his itching need for your attention with a mindless game of fifa. 

And then he played 2 games. And then 3. And then– 

His hand reaches over like a cat, and he keyboard smashes across your document. 

“What the flip, Riks” you gasp incredulously, your head whipping to face your boyfriend. Your eyebrows knit together in that cute way that Ni-ki just adores. 

He thinks everything you do is cute, if he was being honest. The way you look furious when you focus on your silly assignments, the way your expression relaxes when you simultaneously swipe the tab to start reading a new boy's love you've come across, the way you absolutely rage when he decides to annoy the living hell out of you. 

A mischievous grin slips onto his face, one that means nothing but trouble. 

“Hey, no- what are you thinking… actually the fact that you are thinking right now is concerning enough” 

“Can you go a day without bullying me”

You let out the most ear soothing laugh, the melody of giggles slips out and settles in his bones. 

Instincetly, Ni-ki relaxes, dropping his head down to the side of the couch. You maneuver a bit, shifting to accommodate his resting head, making sure to throw a suspicious eyebrow his way. 

“You’re boring me” Ni-ki states, knocking his knee into yours. 

You roll your eyes, and let out a life-too-exhausting sigh which seems to make him feel all too satisfied– just not enough. Even when you shut your laptop, and half haphazardly place it on the coffee table, and lean your head back and into the couch, Ni-ki is still not satisfied. 

“Pay attention to me” He whines, as you turn to lock eyes. 

You roll your eyes again, maybe for the nth-teen time.

You take his hand into yours, and squeeze gently. 

“Baby”

Niki smirks, squeezing back. 

“No, i'm calling you a baby” you tease, which pulls an offended look right onto your lover’s face. 

In retaliation, or maybe retribution, his mile long hand finds home amongst your face. The expanses cover your features entirely, and the gently squish of your cheeks only annoys you more. 

One slap and you're off into another stratosphere. 

You choose not to move, only following the gentle manhandling of your boyfriend as he grips your face and shakes it like a magic 8-ball. 

He attempts to shake your sass out of you, but you seem to not mind. Only after a solid 5 seconds of annoying you, Ni-ki’s hand travels down to cup your between his thumb and forefingers. 

And squeezes. 

And squeezes again.

And now he's pulled his other hand from your hold to play with your cheeks like a little dough ball. 

“your cheeks are really soft.” Ni-ki says, in a tone between bewilderment and adoration. As if he doesn't spend half his time with you glued to your side, finding new ways to crawl under your skin.

At this point, you can feel your cheeks becoming sore, and you're sure they're red now and not because you're flustered by the proximity of you too.

 “stop squishing them!” you finally swat his hand away. 

Again with the offended look on his face. 

“My girlfriend hates me core” He fake sobs, and you push him down the couch with a hard shove. 

“You idiot!”

“This would totally go viral if i made a tiktok” 

“Stop hypothetically incriminating me!” 

Before you can retaliate even further, Ni-ki pulls you down onto him, settling you on top of his chest for a change. 

“Only if you let me squish your cheeks”

“After a nap I suppose” 

It’s Ni-ki’s turn to roll his eyes, but he ultimately yields after he feels your breath even out and your heartbeat syncs with his. 

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[m4ttslvr]

˳ ៚ Stars

cocky sub!matt x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend matt can’t resist you when you wear those tiny shorts around him, even if his brothers may hear you get devoured by him

warnings: oral fem!receiving, pet names, matt the munch!!

“FUCK!” you scream at the monitor in front of you where someone just shot you and made you lose the game for everyone.

“y/n! i told you he was right behind you!” chris yells through your headset.

“chris don’t yell at her, you literally had the shot and missed it dumbass” nick defends you.

you groan loudly in annoyance at yourself, “sorry guys, can we try again?”

“ok let me get a snack and a drink first” nick says. “get me something too!” chris tells him.

you were about to ask for a snack as well, instead you yelp when you are quickly spun around in your chair.

you are met with your boyfriend matt looking down at you. “matt!” you protest with a giggle, playfully slapping his arm.

he doesn’t react much, his eyes are trained on your exposed thighs which seem to have him in a trance.

“m’sorry, you just look so delicious” matt says in a whisper, his gaze unwavering. your cheeks go red as he spreads your legs with an eager grip, and kneels in front of you. “just want a taste, please?” he looks up at you with puppy eyes that make you melt into his chair.

he places a hot kiss on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh that makes you jump a little and you quickly snap his head up by his hair. “matt we can’t right now, i’m on a game with your brothers” you whisper, covering your mic with your other hand.

he looks up at you with blown out eyes that are glazed over with desire. “don’t care” he whines, his long fingers pulling at the hem of your red booty shorts. “pretty please?” he asks, with a pout.

you really didn’t have the strength to say no when he was looking up at you like that. your body was already hot with desire and your pussy was getting wetter by the second.

"ok" you say softly, with your heart pounding in your chest. a smile spreads across his face and he licks his lips before sucking at your sensitive skin. you softly moan low in your throat. before you get too lost in the pleasure of matt’s touch, you reach to take off your headset.

you’re stopped by matt's tattooed arm, your wrist in his hand. you look at him wide eyed, he calmly shakes his head at you. "you're gonna keep playing" he says, more of a command than a statement. your heart is racing now but you nod anyway.

matt slides his strong hands under your knees pulling you closer to him until the gaming chair is pressed against his chest. he then raises your legs and places them over his shoulders.

“mmm you’re soaking through your shorts baby” he says in a cocky tone, biting his lip to hide his proud smirk.

you jump when his brothers yell something at you through the headset. you forgot they were there.

you feel matt lick you through your shorts as you’re about to answer. “y-yeah, i’m here” your voice more high pitched and shaky than you intended.

nick and matt are complaining about how bad you’re playing but you can’t find it in you to care when your boyfriend is slipping your shorts off agonizingly slow.

your eyes are glued to the veins on his hands and the feeling of his fingertips sliding down your hot thighs is making your breathing ragged.

matt’s biting back a smirk watching you squirm. “patient” he mouths and you might just cry because of how desperate he’s making you.

chris is begging in a really loud voice you on the other line to play as good as you usually do which matt hears. he places your hands on the keyboard signaling for you to play. you’re expression is dumbfounded but you’ll do anything matt wants you to do right now.

“go on baby, play nice” matt says with an encouraging wink while he slides a finger down the witness of your panties. his touch tickles your clit ever so softly and he adds a bit of pressure at your entrance— the air in the room heavy.

you can only nod as you try to play the game. you’re trying to concentrate on chris’ instructions and when you’re finally starting to shoot straight, matt pulls your panties to the side and blows on your exposed cunt, making you gasp into the mic.

“what?” chris asks, thinking it’s a reaction to the game. “answer” matt commands steadily, his eyes trained on your leaking and pulsating pussy.

you try to come up with something on the spot “a shooter behind the—“ you’re cut off by matt’s mouth attacking your pussy without warning. “oh!” you squeal in surprise and pleasure.

“behind what?” both nick and chris ask into the your ears. your hands pressed random buttons on the keyboard making your avatar run towards a random bush. matt digs his tongue into your entrance, your walls instantly clenching around it desperate to be filled with it.

“there mm— there” your mind short circuiting and muscle memory kicking in, you are encouraging matt going down on you but his brothers think you’re telling them there’s a shooter behind a bush.

“there’s nobody here” nick says confused. matt is now licking up and down between your folds, brushing your clit and your hole with every glide of his tongue. you were now biting your hand trying to muffle your moans.

“focus y/n, take it and come on” chris says into your ears and your brain short circuits again, taking what chris said as a sexual command instead of what he actually meant, which was him handing your avatar a gun. before you can register what you’re doing you moan an “mhmm” as a reply.

your eyes go wide when you realize what you did and there’s silence on the other line, you feel embarrassment wash over you in a wave of heat down your entire body. matt doesn’t stop working his mouth on you, he is lost in your taste.

you hear someone clear their throat on your headset and then they start having a conversation about strategies for the game.

you’re thankful they don’t address it and they’re not questioning you anymore because matt has just started pumping two of his long fingers into you— all coherent thoughts gone and your back arched in pleasure.

matt was relentless shaking his head side to side, his tongue flicking your clit back and forth. you are grinding down on his fingers now, your jaw slack, desperately chasing your high.

the hand that was over your mouth goes to hold onto the armrest of the chair so you don’t fall off the chair. but that was a mistake since another flounder escaped your lips, this time louder than before.

you try to disguise it as a reaction to the game, coughing and gasping as if something shocking happened in the game. “you good y/n?” chris voice says into your ears.

“fuck! s-someone’s shooting— at— me” you manage to say, while your boobs are bouncing from the strength in which matt is fucking you with his tongue. you watch matt’s low lidded eyes follow your breasts up and down.

“…what? where?” chris asks.

you’re breathing hard through your nose, so you don’t pant all over the mic and into matt’s brother’s ears.

“you’re way behind or something, we don’t see you?” nick says.

you try your hardest to click the right buttons and get it together, “m’good now” you manage to say.

“..okay” nick says, clearly worried about my playing skills.

matt reaches for your tank top with his free hand and tugs at it. you’re lost in the feeling of his lips on you that you don’t register what he’s asking. he stops devouring you pulling a sound of protest form you, “off” he says tugging at your shirt.

you get it this time and quickly strip, your boobs jiggling as they’re released from your tight tank top. matt’s hand immediately starts playing with your breast, squeezing and playing with your nipples. the stimulation becoming overwhelming, you felt your orgasm close.

with your vision blurry due to your low eyelids, you barely saw on the screen that his brothers had lost this round making you sigh in relief.

“wanna go another round y/n?,” chris asks immediately. you can’t form words at the moment with matt abusing your pussy so you can only make a noise of disapproval.

“pleaseeee?” chris begs. you can’t help that his words go straight to your pussy, making it throb even harder against matt’s lips.

you pulled at matt’s curls, the chair rocking back and forth. you were staring to feel like you were being too rough, but your worry is discarded when matt grips you from your waist and grinds you down even harder onto his face.

“you can do it, come on y/n” chris encourages you, his words having a whole different meaning for you at the moment.

his voice sounds almost identical to matt’s through the headset and it’s turning you on impossibly more.

“please please please please” chris goes on in a whiny voice.

you can’t take it anymore and you reach for the mute button. you’re lucky that you did because a second later matt curves his tongue and fingers inside you, making you moan matt’s name loudly and release all into his mouth.

matt wastes no time sucking up your juices, the feeling overstimulating your spent cunt making you see stars.

a/n: in honor of streamer matt making a comeback! ;3

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀·

[eternallyei]

smut, men x reader

When you finally get your mind set on some work to do, sitting at your desk like a champ. Finally getting an ounce of motivation to do your tasks for your next deadline, and then there he is.

Observing you from where he is sitting, desperately trying to focus on his book or.. whatever occupation he tried to acquire to pass the time while you have to do your own things. Barely glancing in his direction.

No.. this can't be though. Not for too long at least. So you expected him to stay nicely sat a few meters from you, sitting at your desk when he could just.. help your motivation further ? Nah, think again.

Confidently typing on your keyboard, you sigh, a small content smile spreading on your lips as you analyse your progress. It's almost done, finish line is right ahead — a small pat jolts you out of your concentration.

"Wanna hug.."

You look up, his eyes needy and desperate to just have his arms around you — or so you thought.

"Please"

"I just have a few more things to do, we can cuddle all you want after that, I promise.."

He closes his eyes, sighs and shakes his head — you don't get it, do you ? — his eyes bore into yours again, he places a gentle hand behind your shoulder.

"I've been waiting all day, please."

He whines, whines. You sigh, shoulders falling in despair, letting him know this isn't the right time for you, no matter how much you love him. Yet just as he wanted, you get up. Leaving him just enough space to slip behind you and sit on that uncomfortable chair you sat on all day.

You sit on his lap, his thighs supporting you better than any chair could. It was way more confortable, yes — and as soon as his deprived hands grab a firm hold of your waist, you know that work will have to wait until at least tomorrow.

You look over your shoulder, discerning the blush over his cheeks, ‘attempt to self control’ written all over his face.

"Happy ?"

He nods weakly, one arm circling around your waist to pull you closer — desperately closer. You quickly find your back tightly pressed against his broad chest, nearly sensing his heartbeat quickening in anticipation.

He adjusts in his seat and there you finally feel it — it's hard, aching to be relieved, it's twitching and already leaking at the feeling of your clothed hole over him.

"Hey.. I'm warning you, if you don't let me concentrate on this work, I'll shoo you away. Better stay still."

As if — but then again, as you wish — he audibly gulps, doing his best to not whimper under you when you order him like this.

"Just wanna be inside then, baby, please"

He shifts again, his hot breathe warming the soft skin of your neck while he whispers next to your ear. It's the only way to not fail in maintaining his cool and not let out any needy noises.

Your eyes glued to the screen in front of you, you lift your hips up, standing on your feet for a few seconds — a silent yes that he quickly takes in, as his thick hands hurriedly grab the waistband of his boxer and sweatpants, pulling them down mid-thigh.

His cock doing it's best not to burst a load at the sudden change of temperature, tip red and sensitive already after a day of imagining your sweet hole around him.

You lower your shorts and panties, both falling to your feet without effort, his eyes pretty much shining at the sight of your bare ass, he can't even keep his hands to himself at the view. A faint slap falls on your ass followed by a devilish scoff resonating in his throat as you jolt.

Spreading your legs and taking a few steps back so you're bending over him, elbows steadily holding you up on the desk as you let him align himself with your entrance. His big hands gently guide you down on his length, — it twitches, pulsates. It's hot and needy, like him.

You hear him hold back his breath as you sink down on him, sitting proudly over his lap when your walls finally envelope his cock all the way to the base. He lets out a shaky breathe, the same arm finding it's initial place around your waist for support and sanity. At least what's left of it.

"T-Thank.. you.."

You giggle faintly, you just made the big boy stutter by just sitting on his aching cock, veins pulsating blood in his hard shaft so desperately you swear it'll mess up your heartbeat.

Fully filled, warming him up just the way he was craving for hours, you straighten your back, your hands find the keyboard as you begin typing again, concentrating back in your work.

Mind you, you're the only one concentrated and mentally okay with this situation, because if one person in this room isn’t losing it, it's certainly not him right now. But you so wanna finish this work after all.

And he wants to finish too — or maybe, we're not talking about the same thing now ?

His eyes tightly close, it's taking all his self control to not hold you in a headlock and fuck himself inside you. Maybe this will remind you he needs a piece of the attention you overly give to your works.

He sighs, his eyes scanning your back and the way it stays so still over him. Wondering just how you're able to act so cool, when you usually mewl and incoherently babble when he sinks his fat inches inside your tight little hole.

"You're so warm, you feel so good wrapped this tight around me, doll"

His hips jerk against you, pushing himself just a tiny little bit deeper. You're wet, oh so wet for him, and it works his brain up so bad.

He leans closer to your back, pressing a hot kiss to the back of your neck, his huge hands making your waist look so small when they snarl over your skin, grabbing a good hold of the way your hips do their best to stay still.

"Baby, please.."

You contentedly sigh, he knows how to get under your skin — he knows how to break your resistance, — and patience is key.

Kisses pressed gently on your skin, marking your neck all the way to your shoulder while his hungry hands slide under your shirt, begging to be wrapped around those soft and round boobs.

You feel so small under his hands, he loves it. He loves the way you feel so fragile and breakable even when you think you're in control. His hands come up to grope your breast, thumb teasing your hardened nipple, — and you do exactly what he wants, you mewl.

He wants to tell you to give up on that work for today, you certainly did a good job so far already — but you'd tell him to keep his hands off you and scold him for distracting you.

And he doesn't want that. Toying with you is just how he likes to have you. Earn you.

"Baby.. I need to finish this, please"

He knows. Does he care though ? No. Absolutely not.

His digits work over your tit, circling and flicking them until your hips unconsciously twitch and you squeeze his cock. He smirks, he knows you're too weak to play this game. He won from the moment you took your eyes off your fucking screen.

"I'm almost done"

And he'll make you say it again afterwards, but surely not speaking about your stupid assignment this time.

He bites your neck, his hips jerking when you squeeze him again, earning a lewd moan out of your soft parted lips. Because at this point, you were needy and desperate to have him pace his hips into yours. You needed him as much as he needed you after all.

Yet here you are, insisting on finishing that damn assessment. You shakily type a few word on the computer while he plays with your boobs, as if you were used to it now. Unbothered, — not quite exactly though, you were practically soaking his tensed balls wet.

"Look, what d'you think ?"

You manage to ask, his hands and mouth still trying their best to distract you from that damn computer.

"Mmh, don't care."

He kisses, bites your skin, already red and overused. His hand slide down your stomach, finding their favorite place between your thighs while the other grab a firm hold of your waist to keep you in place.

Because he knows and understand that you want to act indifferent so bad but once he's got his digits between your folds, you're squeezing your thighs together and squirming around, begging to be spared.

And once his fingers slide down your folds, ghosting over your clit, you're doing right what he knew you would do. Squirm around, desperately trying to pull on his wrist to keep his hands away from what he toys the best with.

"Sshh, focus on your assessment, baby"

Asshole, you think to yourself — so he needs you mewling, whining and fighting under his grip to remind you to stay focused ? Daring you to resist him now.

His kisses turn into mean little chuckles, his arm griping your waist tighter than it ever has been so his fingers can work over your clit, toying with it just the right way to get you rolling your eyes and throwing your head back over his shoulder.

"Okay.. okay. That’s it, lemme reward you, doll"

You moan and press your thighs together — at least best you can with how spread he's keeping you with his own thighs. He kisses your cheeks, finally able to see your pretty face contort in pleasure as he handles you.

You're shaking already, deprived from your own will. His firm hold over your waist easing him to move your hips over his own, his tip pressing the deepest spot of your insides with just how hard he is.

Your lips parting to let out yet another needy mewl, his thumb caresses the soft skin of your sides. He presses another kiss on your temples.

"I'll take care of you now"

He doesn't want to be mean but he's been craving to cum inside you all day, his poor balls aching to be emptied. Wishing he could just pick you up and throw your small frame on the bed and fuck you till you can't even remember your own name.

After a long day of ignoring him, you got him all desperate. Poor big boy losing his restraint and becoming a messy one needing to get his favorite little hole filled to the brim with his precious cum.

Reminding you that your time is all his and only his.

— CALEB ais Eren Xavier AMON suguru Marius ghost

— AND YOUR FAVS ♡

fyi, yes, i have works to do. and yes, i was doing it with caleb staring into my soul while doing it.

it just sounded so well i had to write that down. writing this without overthinking it guys, bare with me. anyway i admit i wanted to quote my favorite guys bc they deserved their little story too! didn't quite know how to finish it—

if anyone has ideas or requests i'm all ears.

likes, rb and comments are appreciated, thank you again lovelies ♡

@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.

[skywalkoverme]

𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞

a/n: Here is the threesome I mentioned yesterday!! I hope you enjoy!! Sorry, Ewan's photo wouldnt load :(

𐙚 Anakin x Fem x Kenobi 𐙚 THREESOME 𐙚 || 18+ MDNI

Summary: You spend the night at your friends dorm.

Warnings/contains: College AU, Anakin + Kenobi are athletes, smut, p's in v, double penetration, sex tapes, multiple creampies, face fucking, slapping, hair pulling, choking, marking, hickies, sex modeling, sexual teasing, proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 4.1k // More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Athlete’s Dorm: ‘9:02 PM'

“What do you mean, broken?!” He stood in his dorm hall with his roommate. Soon, the hall was filled with students fanning themselves and chattering.

“I mean, there’s a guy here to fix the AC, Skywalker. Just bear with me, ok?” Anakin folded his arms, and leaned back onto the door frame as more people asked the RA questions. “Alright, everyone! Calm down! There are fans in the lobby! You’re welcome to—” The students began to push past the RA to the elevators. “Whatever.”

“I hate this building.” Anakin groaned, pulled off his shirt and left the door to his dorm open.

‘10:12 PM’

He sat at his computer, glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, and two energy drinks by his keyboard. The fan on his shelf blew warm air onto his sweaty, shirtless torso. After procrastinating for a week, his essay for his government class was due as well as a handful of chemistry assignments. As he typed, he thought of all the time he wasted crashing in other’s dorms or jerking off after class--- “Ahg!” The young man grumbled and folded his arms. “I’m goin’ to the vending machine, ya want anything?” He asked his roommate, Kenobi.

“Empty calories. No.” Kenobi said with his back to Anakin as he went over his biology notes with a highlighter.

Anakin sucked his teeth and grabbed his wallet before heading to the elevator. I fucking hate this old ass building…stupid fucking government class. Interrupting his thoughts, the elevator took him down to the lobby.

Every area was filled with sweaty and complaining students. Some lay on the floor and others, across furniture and against walls. Anakin was quickly distracted by a group of his teammates who stood together. “What’s so funny?” He placed a gentle hand on one of the guys.

“Girl in your room?”

Kenobi would kill me. He thought. “I’m writing an essay.” He called over his shoulder as he got a water and something sweet from the vending machines.

“That can wait. We’re about to take a walk~” A friend of his raised his eyebrows.

“Tempting. But no.” A few of the guys groaned, some sighed.

“You’re missing out!” One guy called out.

“Oh, yeah?” Anakin continued to walk around the lobby, eventually finding his way to the RA telephone on the desk behind the counter. He walked around the desk and started to dial a number---

“Skywalker! What do you think you’re doing?!” One of the staff asked with a groan, trying to avoid staring at his bare torso. He raised a finger to his lips. The woman gasped and stormed towards the coordinator’s office.

After a few rings, you picked up the landline on your nightstand. “Hello?”

“Hey, beautiful.” Anakin said smoothly after taking a sip of his water.

You turned over your left wrist and smiled at your watch. “It’s late, Mister Skywalker. What is it? Ran out of Red bull?” You speak into the landline as you remove your jewelry for bed.

He chuckled, playing with the phone cord. “An hour ago, yes. But that’s not why I’m callin’, Sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes, a hand on your hip. He was a known sweet talker and did nothing to hide it. You’re sure he could convince you to balance fine China on a tightrope with a simple smirk. “How was your day?” He leaned on the desk of the lobby.

“It was good.” You bit your bottom lip, a lock of hair around your fingers. “Yours?”

“Rather lonely, can you believe that?” He asked softly.

You shook your head before realizing he was simply on the phone. “U- Ahem, no.”

“Do you want to know why, Sweetheart? I didn’t see you in class.” He whispered the last part; your lips spread with need. “Where were you?”

“Doctor’s appointment.”

“And you thought to tell no one?” He asked sweetly, your feet swung under you as you sat at the end of your bed. “You should know, I sent out a whole calvary to find you. I was worried.” That charming sarcasm always grasped you so tightly.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, handsome.”

“Tsk, well you did.” He sighed, “You’ll have to make it up to me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“As the Teacher’s Assistant…it’s your job to help students in need, right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “I suppose. It depends on what that student needs.” Breathlessly, you spoke while imagining him on the phone with you. Making that sly smirk, toying with something that didn’t belong to him.

“My essay. Will you come help me?” You knew he’d have you in his dorm until morning. Not that anyone cared in his dorm, but this was looked down upon. A TA sleeping with her student; you should be ashamed but thank God you aren’t.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He chuckled, “Bye now…”

You arrived in lobby only four minutes later and quickly walked up to him, holding an armful of books with crooked glasses on your face. He could tell you put on a subtle amount of makeup in the car. Pajama pants waved in the wind created by the fans in the lobby, your tank top clung to your distracting figure. His eyes traced down your body. “Why is it so warm in here?” You asked while glancing over the groups of students.

“Shit. I forgot to tell you: the AC blew.” He shook his head, walking closely as you went to the elevator.

“Damn, I’m sorry. But that explains…all this.” You took a long look around the room again at the shirtless men and women in sport bras. You muttered, more needy than you expected, “You are…so lucky to live in this dorm.”

“Tsk, get in the elevator.” He lightly slapped your ass. You quickly shuffled into the elevator; your books in his arms as the doors closed. “Kenobi’s likely still in there. Midterms are knocking him on his ass.”

“He’s not the only one, I’m guessing.” You shrugged and Anakin ignored the comment before entering his dorm.

“I was thinkin’ more…write a paragraph, get some head in the study nook down the hall. Y’know, alternate between the two.” You rolled your eyes faster than he could get the words out.

“Hey, Ken.” You hugged his shoulder before sitting at Anakin’s desk. He hummed a ‘Hello’ and continued highlighting. Anakin rolled his eyes as you pushed his trash into his already full wastebasket.

“Alright, Interior decorator.”

He leaned over you as you sat, his palms on the top of the desk. “You should…get a new rolodex…” You whispered as a drop of his sweat dropped and slipped down your right breast. “It’s full.” Your heartbeat thumped quickly in your chest before you looked up at him and he was smirking.

“It’s been filled for a while now.” He added. You turned your attention to his computer. “It’s an argumentative essay over state law and federal…who should have more power or somethin’.” He waved a dismissive hand and opened your government textbook to the unit. “You’re my TA. Don’t you have the answers?”

A single line of sweat ran from his adam’s apple down his collarbones, to his pink nipple. “A- uh.” His tanned skin continued to draw your eyes back, “It’s an essay. Not a multiple-choice test.” You mumbled, “Did you keep the rubric?”

Anakin ran a hand through his hair and looked through his mess of papers from his desk. “Maybe I dropped it.” He went to Kenobi’s desk and picked his government binder from the shelf.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t mind. I just need it for a few seconds.” Anakin offered you Kenobi’s binder as you began to type his essay onto the file. “Make sure you include a few spelling mistakes.” He said while leaning over you.

'10:59’

Minutes passed and he began blabbering about his game and spinning a ball on each of his fingers—or at least trying to. “…with Notre Dame. Coach said tighten up but I’m not stressing. Half of ‘em are on coke anyway.” He shrugged, “So are you coming?”

You turned from the computer and to him. “What?”

He groaned and rolled his eyes, “Are you even listening?” He tossed his ball into a laundry basket across the room. “Come to my game!” He groaned again, his head tucked into your neck, his nose buried in your hair. “Ken’s gonna be there.”

Kenobi rolled his eyes, “I must be there. I’m the team manager. Don’t guilt trip her.” His broad shoulders strained against a sweat-soaked cotton shirt. Ken blew cool air into his shirt before he pulled it off his body. “Fuck, it’s hot.”

Anakin ignored his friend, his hands on your sides. “I can’t focus on you right now, Anakin.” You whispered as he playfully licked your neck.

“I’ll let you work.” He said, resting his chin on your shoulder as you wrote his essay.

“I expect to be paid handsomely for this.” You referenced Kenobi’s notes and your textbook as he simply watched you work.

He peered over his shoulder to be sure Ken wasn’t listening, “How about a few rounds of leg-shaking head?” You slapped one of his hands softly, “Oww!” He whispered, hugging you tighter. “For my girlfriend, you are quite feisty.”

“I’m not your girl, Ani.”

“Why is that again?” He asked before slipping his large hand into your pajama pants.

You whipped your head in his direction, “What are you doing?” You hardly whispered.

He pressed his lips against your temple, “I’m helping.” Before you could disagree with him, he moved the chair closer to the desk to conceal the location of his hand. “Just some motivation.” He whispered into your hair as his fingers ran up and down your slit. You decided to give your attention to his paper. “See? It’s working.” His fingers rest over your warm slit. “Someone shaved~”

“Oh stop! I did that before you called.” He snickered, “Ken, I need your help.”

“Don’t call him over here.” Anakin groaned and took his hand from your pants.

“Yeah? What’s the matter?” When you turned your head, your eyes were met with Ken’s bare torso. His chest covered in blonde hair as he rubbed his mustache. You stuttered for a moment before Anakin turned your head towards the computer by your braids.

“Uhm…c- could you both read this? I want it to sound natural like Anakin.”

“Sure thing.” Their hands rest on the back of the chair as they read through the paper; “You mind?” You took the warm mouse in your hand and scrolled down some. “The paper looks good…just…” Ken leaned down until his chest hair rubbed your shoulder and he began to make a few changes to the conclusion.

“Sounds like me.” Anakin shrugged.

“Alright, we can print it before class on Monday.” You began to stack your books and offered Kenobi his resources.

“Where are you going?” Ken asked as the room’s fan tossed the young men’s hair, sweat ran down their tanned bodies as you fixed the strap of your tank top. “Home already? I thought you’d stay.”

“Really?” Anakin turned his head to his dormmate. “You never let me have guests.”

“This is different.” He shrugged and organized his books on his shelves. Your eyes shifted between the two and ran down their toned backs. “She’s a TA, a good influence.” Anakin could feel that Kenobi was trying to butter you up. And right in front of him?!

You weren’t focused on the unspoken words, just the two figures, glistening with sweat under the faint desk lights. Both men were powerfully built, their muscles taut under tanned skin. Kenobi, a stockier man with a porno mustache (that you suggested), wiped a hand across his brow, leaving a streak of sweat. Anakin ran a hand through his damp, dark hair. His chest heaved slightly with each breath, revealing the network of muscles beneath his skin. 

Both men, clearly uncomfortable in the stifling heat, radiated an almost palpable aura of sexual frustration.

‘12:04 AM’

Anakin offered you his jersey and in the bathroom, you changed out of the heavy pajama pants and sweaty tank top. The airy jersey and panties gave you room to breathe as you lay in Anakin’s bed with an ice pack over your head.

“How about you stay still so I can kill you!” Anakin snapped as they leaned over the console; fingers shifting on their controllers.

“He never wins.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Anakin barked behind him as you lay on your side, observing the two. After a tussle, Anakin covered Ken’s eyes and won the in-game match. He smirked and tossed his controller on his beanbag.

“No, no, no! Rematch! That was cheating!---” Anakin followed Kenobi’s gaze to his bed. You were bent over while adjusting his puffy pillows for your head. When the room fell silent, your attention shifted to them.

“What’s wrong?” There was only silence as their hungry gazes ran over your tanned thighs and round ass up to the open sleeve of the jersey; your perky breasts showed from the side before you quickly covered yourself with a pillow. “Don’t stare!”

“You look like a model.” Anakin drooled.

“An indecent one.” Obi-wan sneered before putting his hands up, “I meant no offense!”

Anakin folded his arms over his chest, “What did you mean? Y’know, she’s my girlfriend.”

You chuckled and moved hair behind your ear. “No, I’m not.”

“Tsk, Y/n!” Kenobi was messing with something by his bed as Anakin began to beg, his face on your warm, thick thighs. “You’re the only girl I’ve seen this month!” You rolled your eyes and pushed his forehead, “I want to take us seriously. Why are you so hesitant?”

“Because you’re a man-whore.” Ken said over his shoulder as he slipped a new battery into his digital camera. You curiously sat up on your knees as he turned it on.

“What’s that for?” You asked as your hand ran through Anakin’s hair and down his back. His eyes were shut as your nails gently scratched his skin. Kenobi pressed a finger to his lips to shush you and raised the camera to his face. You discreetly moved the fabric of the jersey over and flashed a tit at the camera.

Behind Anakin’s back, you’d been fucking Ken. Only when Anakin had class and even then, he’d find any excuse to skip so it wasn’t easy. It’d been two weeks since you last fucked Ken; he’s starving for you and your teasing didn’t help. The man bit his lip as he stared at your hard nipple.

When Anakin picked up his head, you quickly kissed him. He was fairly distracted by your gesture but as the flash of Obi-wan’s camera went off, he pulled himself away. “M- mhh! What are you doing?”

“Taking pictures of my pretty girl.”

Anakin was angered as you bit your nail, a knowing look traded between you both. “What is he talking about?” A pause. “You slut.”

“Like you’re so different.” Anakin didn’t find you funny. “Just come here, Ani.” You pat the bed, crawling backward to make room for him.

“I don’t want to share.”

“You’ve been doing it for months.” Ken adds while taking more pictures of you. In the covers, Anakin couldn’t lie, you looked stunning. More than that, you looked like a woman straight out of his Playboy magazines. Anakin took the camera from his dormmates hands and began to go through them. The two turned to each other and back to you. “I have a camcorder.”

The light flashed red as it rest on the bookshelf, pointed to the bed. You rest on your hands and knees; Ken pressed his crotch against the front of your face as you left messy kisses along his cock and full balls. The two had suckled on your neck and attacked the flesh with passionate kisses. Already, the purplish-red bruises marked your skin. You’d experienced groping before but nothing so possessive. The two men groped, licked and slapped the curves of your breasts, thighs, ass and throat.

Anakin’s hands gripped your hips as he moved against you, the pace was fast and rough, but it felt so good while you arched your back. Your clit bumping into his pelvis while he bucked into you harshly, the sound was slick and wet. “You feel so fucking good~”

Ken took your tit into his hand, pinching and rolling the nipple over again in his forefinger and thumb. His breath was hot as he murmured, “Take that down your throat.” His cockhead pushed past your lips and deep into your mouth. Your fingers clung tightly to the covers as your eyes watered. “Don’t bite me.” He warned as he grabbed you by the braids and guided your hot mouth along his shaft. His head threw back as you swirled your tongue around his shaft.

The room was filled with a symphony of sounds - the creaking of the bed, the slick slap of skin against skin, and your combined moans, chokes and gasps. Obi-Wan's eyes met Anakin's, a look of shared pleasure passing between them.

As you were turned by Obi-Wan's strong hands, he took a moment to admire your curved back and the plump flesh of your rear. Ken’s blue eyes darkened with lust as he positioned himself behind you, his muscular frame hovering over your smaller form. He leaned down, his blonde hair brushing against your back as he pressed hot kisses along your shoulder blades.

Anakin fisted your long, dark hair, pulling your head back and exposing your neck as he positioned himself at your plump lips. The scent of sex and the musky aroma of the men’s arousal filled your nostrils, making your head spin. Anakin rubbed the slick tip of his cock against your soft lips, smearing them with his pre-cum. “Hm,” He chuckled, slapping your face with his cock. “Of course you want two cocks in you. I should’ve known.”

“Open your mouth.” As you parted your lips, Anakin pushed forward, sliding his hard length into your warm, wet mouth. He groaned at the sensation, his grip tightening on your hair as he began to move, fucking your face with deep, steady thrusts.

Obi-Wan matched Anakin's rhythm from behind, his hips rolling forward to bury himself deep inside of your tight heat. The dual sensations of having both men pleasuring you was overwhelming; you could feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge for the first time tonight.

Obi-Wan took the camcorder into his hand and filmed the sight of your jiggling ass that slapped so lewdly against his hips. His hand slid down to slap your ass a few times; staining your cheeks with red marks. Your pussy tightened from the slaps and unique grind of Ken’s hips. The room was filled with the obscene sounds of their balls against your skin, and their ragged breaths and moans. “Haha!” The man filmed the sight of saliva on your face and in your hair as Anakin treated you roughly.

Anakin continued to thrust into your pretty mouth, his grip on your hair tightening as he found his sweet spot in your throat. “Look at me.” Your eyes lolled up to meet Anakin’s gaze. He could feel you choking and whining; your throat vibrating around his sensitive cock, only serving to make him cum faster. Ken drove into you with deep, and quick strokes that had you seeing stars.

Obi-Wan's hands slid around to your front, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. You pulled your head from Anakin’s cock and broke down trembling, pathetic squeals left your lips. “Shhh.” Ken chuckled past your ear as he filmed your face. He could feel your walls starting to flutter around his hard length, and he knew you were close.

Anakin couldn’t care less about your helpless whimpers. He took the camera and pulled you by your hair, his balls pressed onto your face. You lapped at the swells and took them into your mouth.

Anakin placed the camera behind him and pulled his balls out of your mouth with a groan, a string of saliva connecting his package to your swollen lips. He flipped you over onto your back, holding your legs up and spreading them wide for Ken. Obi-Wan followed suit, never breaking his rhythm as he continued to drive into your hot, tight core.

Together, they worked in tandem, their bodies moving as one as they brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. Anakin leaned down, capturing your swollen lips in a lewd kiss, swallowing your gasps. Ken’s fingers began to work your clit once more, rubbing and circling the sensitive bud as he felt his own release approaching.

Before long, Anakin’s cock filled your tilted mouth again.  Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into Anakin's thighs as you finally let go. Your orgasm crashed over like a tidal wave, your inner walls clenching and spasming around Ken’s pistoning length.

As you lay on your back, Anakin gripped your hair tightly and picked up the pace of his frenzied thrusts into your mouth. His hips snapped forward rapidly, slamming his thick cock deep into your throat with each stroke. “Good girllll…” Ken continued to drive into your fluttering, over-sensitive pussy from below, extending that perfectly intense orgasm. As you purred, he could feel your walls still clenching and unclenching around him, milking his own release.

Anakin's pace became erratic as he neared his own climax. With a strangled groan, he pushed himself balls-deep into your mouth and held himself there, his cock pulsing as he spilled his hot seed down your throat. His balls covered your nose as you began to search for air. Obi-Wan followed seconds later, spilling his own release deep inside your quivering core with a low, deep moan of your name.

“M- more.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance, a look of surprise and renewed arousal passing between them at your plea.

Some time later

Anakin sat up, his sculpted abs glistening with a sheen of sweat. He scooped you up into his arms, his hand gripping your thigh possessively as he positioned you to straddle his lap. His cock, already hardening again, prodded against your cum-covered entrance.

With that, Anakin pulled you down, spearing you onto his hardening length in one smooth, deep thrust. At the same time, Ken pressed against your back, his own fat cock nestling between your warm ass cheeks as he began to grind through them. Your hands cuffed around Anakin’s face as they exhaled onto your sweaty skin.

Anakin gripped your hips, slamming you down onto his thick cock with each powerful thrust. Behind her, Obi-Wan's hands slid around to grope your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and rolling your stiff nipples between his fingers. He caught your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing each cry of pleasure as the sex grew more intense. “You want me to cum in your ass?”

You could only moan and whimper in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being so thoroughly taken by the two athletes. You could feel Obi-Wan's hard length pressing insistently against your backside, grinding in time with Anakin's relentless thrusts.

Their pace grew more intense, more urgent, as they chased their next releases. The small room was filled with the sound of their harsh breaths, and of course, your needy moans. You could feel the coil of another orgasm building low in your belly, your walls started to flutter and clench around Anakin's plundering length.

“Please…I- I” Your voice quieter than you expected as they each took a side of your neck into their mouths. Ken gently slipped inside of your tight ass; his hand pressed on the back wall behind Anakin’s head.

Anakin watched your twitching features. “Cumslut.” Your body convulsed, back arching as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. Your pussy clenched and spasmed around Anakin's pistoning length, milking him for all he was worth. “A- hmp!” His head hit the back of the wall as he buried himself deep inside of you. Ken’s cock pushed past the tight rings of your asshole as he came within the perfect, suckling heat.

Your lips were taken by Ken’s before given to Anakin. You tried your best to keep your mind still as their cocks nestled inside of you. Anakin’s tongue rubbed against yours; Ken’s tongue licked up and down your neck as their sweaty skin pressed against yours.

a/n: long one, hope you enjoyed!! I wrote this a month-ish ago so pls ignore the mediocre writing here.

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Dividers (as always) from @cursed-carmine

[starconstruction]

Lighthearted Bullies

Chaewon + Heejin x Male Reader (Smut)

Smut tags: pussy eating, blowjob, face riding, creampie

Word Count: 1836

Being a loser had no benefits, you sat alone at lunch, group projects were solo affairs and everyone would give you strange looks. Not that you did much to get into this position, but sometimes somebody has to roll a bad dice roll.

Well there was two people who would pay you mind, two of the popular girls. Chaewon and Heejin, it wasn't a positive relationship of course. Each day came with triple the workload that every normal student has, head burrowed in the projects they asked you to do. They made it very clear you'd live to regret it if you didn't comply.

It was 3am, 7 red bulls sat on your defiled desk while you typed away on your keyboard. Drinking the 3rd red bull of the night, you were wearing pajamas with the full intent of sleeping much earlier ago. But their assignments were so big, so fucking wordy and you were only told about them three days before they were due.

The soft angelic hum of ARTMS played from your headphones, breaking up the crushing mundane work with texting whoever would listen on discord. Heejin's assignment only had another like 5 pages, if you are lucky you may get at least 45 minutes of sleep.

You didn't.

-

The slams of lockers felt louder, sharper. Lights were uncomfortably bright and blurry, tears painted the corners of your eyes as they struggled to remain open. The people in front of you moved out of your way with disgusted looks. God you feel like shit.

You sat uncomfortably in the blue plastic chair, fiddling with your hands as you tried to ignore the throbbing headache that pounded against your skull. You got here earlier than the rest, situated in the back of the room. It was going to be a long day.

The class was soon about to start, students funneled into the room which included your two bullies. You paid them little mind as they walked in, taking the two chairs surrounding you. Their strong perfume felt even more pungent, filling your nose with the cheap scent of lavender. "Wow, Y/N you look like shit dude." Heejin mocked, playfully tapping you on the back. Chaewon snickered as her hand rummaged in her handbag.

"Y-yeah, your assignments took me forever." Your voice was meek and quiet, they did not appreciate you raising your voice. The time you did was met with a swift shove into a locker, tooth still loose from the contact.

"At least you did it, thank you Y/N" Chaewon said. Thank you, she never said thank you. Your face warmed up turning a beet red, they almost certainly noticed it. All the tiredness hit you at once, a tsunami of exhaustion crushing you. Their faces appeared at the corners of your eyes, a face of pity or maybe they thought you were pathetic.

"We'll be nice this once, just sleep. We will give you the notes." Heejin commanded, you knew better than to take advantage of any kindness they offered. Head pressing against the table, it didn't take long for you to pass out.

-

A soft hand slapped you awake, Chaewon looked at you saying something incomprehensible. Her hand dragged you up and started pulling you somewhere, feet struggling to keep up with the short tempered woman. The wind hit you with a strong gust, waking you up slightly. "Get in." Chaewon said, throwing you into her dingy black 2007 Cadillac. The scent of cheap cherry as she got in the other side.

"where are we going chaewon?" You asked, voice thick with tiredness as her hand grabbed the wheel. "You are coming with me, Heejin is already there." She didn't elaborate, she drove quickly. Probably too quickly. Window open slightly while playing the radio way too loud, body bouncing as she sung whatever came on.

You two drove for awhile, Chaewon beamed as you laid against the seat. Her energy was contagious, slightly moving your body to the music as you two pulled into her driveway.

She loved to drag you around, pulling you into her house. The entrance screamed Chaewon, several pair of same size shoes laid on the ground. The walls a comforting white, but she had no interest in doing a house tour. Discarding her shoes as she dragged you into her bedroom.

The bedroom was even more her, filled with various strange items. Statues of various anime characters on shelves, posters of weeekly, linkin park and some random local bands you've only heard mentioned in passing. Her bed laid pushed up in the corner, midnight black sheets laid hastily thrown on with pillows scattered around. The main thing of note was Heejin, sat there in her ripped jeans and band shirt. "You brought him!" She yelled.

Chaewon wasnt apparently done man handling you, shoving you face first into Heejin. Her arms wrapped around you, suffocating the life essence as she squeezed. "Of course I did. He doesn't know why though." You were so confused, comfortably perched on Heejin's lap.

"Oh joy! May I have the honours?" Heejin said, Chaewon nodded as Heejin's hand turned your head to face her. "We just wanted to say thanks for your effort and we have just the thing for it." You didn't have time to respond, Heejin's lips pressed against yours, eyes widened in shock as you tried to kiss back. You've never done this before, struggling to guess the actions as your lips moved against hers. " Awe he's so responsive." Chaewon fawned.

Suddenly she was behind you, back pressing against you as her hand brushed against your cock, fingers making faint contact with the tip. You've never been so erect, evidently Heejin's strawberry flavored lip gloss had an effect on you. Heejin pulled away "Not a bad kisser for a virgin." She commented, Your head found the bed as she ended up by your crotch. "Not for much longer, you'll enjoy this."

You shuddered as her lips pressed against your clothed cock, her mouth smiling as a tongue trailed up the fabric. "So hard.." Heejin admired in awe, Chaewon refused to remain idle. Her weight shifting the bed as her body appeared near your head, "You wanna be good for me, for us. Right?" Your head nodded on its own accord, "Good boy." Heejin's hand found it's way to your zip, tugging it down. The fabric ripped off in one fell swoop, you felt so aroused. Heejin's hand found your cock as it wrapped around "Wow, I've barely touched you and your leaking." She said, stroking up and down as she started her hand job off dry.

"Spit on it for me Chae." Heejin requested, smiling as Chaewon's mouth contorted to produce warm saliva. It dripped from her mouth, landing on your needy cock. Heejin immediately got to work, lubricating you with her hand. "Throbbing already.. Don't blow your load too early." She demanded, growling as she took you in her mouth. You had nothing to compare with but she felt experienced, tongue trailing around your length.

Chaewon pulled down her shirt revealing her purple bra, nipples as hard as diamond while they poked out. "Be good for us, suck for me." You complied, mouth finding solace in Chaewon's massive breasts. Sucking the hardened flesh as Chaewon looked down at you.

Heejin sped up, testing your ability to restrain yourself as her mouth bobbed. She slurped on your cock making sinful sounds, Chaewon stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of tugging on your strands. "That's it, let the stress melt away.. You are safe here." She spoke softly, a contrast to the action happening against your crotch right now.

You were getting close, unable to speak as Chaewon's breasts silenced your words. Heejin realised, pressing her nose to your pubes as your hips thrust inwards. Moaning against Chaewon's nipple as you came, shooting shot after shot into Heejin's throat which it gracefully accepted. She stayed there for a few long moments as you rode the high of your first orgasm not caused by you.

Your mouth was made empty as she pulled away, they swapped positions. Heejin now sat next to you, "Did I do well?" She asked, no way she was actually conscious about her throat game. Just wanting a ego stroke which you happily obligated, nodding.

Chaewon turned away, shimmying out of her jeans. Putting on the show of a lifetime as her meaty ass shed it's clothing, a thin red thong covered her holes as she faced you again. "Like what you see?" She teased as you tried to speak, only a small whine coming out. "Look at you, drooling. You are such a mess for us." she continued.

Chaewon pulled the soiled fabric down her endlessly long legs, throwing it at your face as you pressed her panties into your nose, breathing in her scent as she straddled you. "W-wait!" You called out, "Shouldn't we use a condom?"

She laughed, "No." Her body sunk down on you, wrapping around every inch it consumed. Squeezing the life out of you as your shaft throbbed in her warmth, you were embarrassed at how close you were already. You were so distracted by Chaewon you didn't realize Heejin had stripped, "Be a good boy and let me ride that pretty face." You nodded, tongue sticking out as Heejin found her seat on her throne.

The dual riding was one hell of a first time, overwhelmed by the sensation of the two bullies. Chaewon worked her magic on your dick, taking you beyond heaven as she bounced up and down. Heejin leaked arousal all over your tongue while you struggled to keep up, your muscle licked her soft slit indiscriminately.

"You are being such a good boy for us!" Chaewon barked, holding onto your chest as she slammed against your crotch. You were surprised by how long you lasted, but it wasn't possible to go any longer. You wouldn't call them moans, but some form of sound left your mouth into Heejin's pussy, shooting cum into Chaewon's awaiting body. Filling her with your cream, she kept going for a second. But she had plans.

Chaewon got off your spent shaft, sitting on your chest as she leaked your load back onto you. Her tongue helped you with Heejin's neediness, everytime she came backwards Chaewon would lick her cunt. The dual tonguing made her moan even louder, Heejin's legs fully tightened around your skull as she rained down her squirt into your mouth.

Heejin fell back into Chaewon's arms, your mouth still inches from her lips as you three caught your breath. Basking in the pleasure that took place, the only sound that could be heard was the shared panting of pleasure.

Chaewon broke the suspenseful silence, playfully hitting your shoulder "Congrats on losing your virginity loser! Two women at the same time as well." Heejin carried on, like this was a planned bit. "You are ours now, not that you have anyone else. We are doing this more often."

Maybe there was one perk to being a loser.

[bangtanbeom]

⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 3

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3.3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: sorry for the long wait guys! please bear with me ;-;. i wasn't feeling well lately and couldn't find the energy to continue writing. i'm still having trouble with writing a little, my head is a mess. BUT im happy with the positive responses, i'll work hard to finish this and make it enjoyable :) <3 taglist: always open! @saccharinezennie | @soobinz-wife | @mental-hollows

the fluorescent lights of the office hummed overhead as you pushed yourself through the glass doors, the usual morning chatter of keyboards clacking and hushed phone conversations filled the space. but the moment you stepped into the office—

yeonjun's head snapped up from his desk like a predator catching a scent.

oh no.

you barely had time to drop your bag onto your chair before he was already swiveling his chair toward you, his sharp eyes gleaming with mischief as they locked onto you like a target.

"well, well, well," he drawled, popping his chin in his hand, elbow digging into his desk. "look who survived her practice date."

you shot him a warning glare. "don't"

"don't what?" he blinked innocently—but the grin tugging at his lips ruined the act. "don't ask how it went? don't ask if you two held hands? don't ask if he—"

"yeonjun."

"—kissed you goodnight?"

you nearly choked on your coffee. "we didn't kiss—"

"oh?" he leaned forward, his grin widening. "so there was a goodnight?"

you groaned, slumping into your chair. "i hate you."

"no, you don't." he rolled closer, unfazed. "come on, details. was he as annoyingly perfect as his profile?"

you hesitated. the truth was, the night had been... surprisingly okay. less awkward than you'd expected. maybe even—dare you say it—fun. but admitting that to yeonjun would mean giving in.

"it was fine," you muttered, turning your attention on your computer screen with exaggerated focus. "we practiced. we ate. we left."

yeonjun gasped, slapping a hand over his heart like you'd just confessed a crime. dramatic. "you ate together? how romantic."

"it was a dinner practice for a fake date—"

"did he pay?"

"that's your question?"

"it's an important one!" he wagged a finger, grinning. "a gentleman always pays."

you scoffed. "it's a business transaction. of course he paid."

yeonjun's grin widened. "so he is a gentleman."

you buried your face in your hands, your voice muffled. "why do i even talk to you?"

"because you love me." he poked your shoulder. "and because you secretly enjoyed yourself."

you lifted your head just enough to glare at him. "i did not."

"liar." he smirked. "you're cheeks are red."

yeonjun, miraculously, dropped the subject—for approximately three hours. then, during lunch, he struck again.

the two of you sat at a small corner table in the company cafeteria, the noise of clattering trays and overlapping conversations muffled in the background.

"so," he said casually, picking up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks, "when's the next session?"

you narrowed your eyes. "why?"

"just curious." he shrugged. a grin played at the corner of his lips as he added, "you know. as your friend and favorite coworker."

"you're not curious," you countered. "you're nosy."

"same thing." he popped the sushi into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. after swallowing, he leaned forward. resting his elbows on the table. "i'm invested now. this is better than a drama."

you groaned, tilting your head back toward the ceiling as if begging for patience. "it's not a drama." you insisted, dropping your voice lower as a group of interns passed by your table. "it's a fake relationship. with a contract. and boundaries."

"uh huh." he leaned in. "and how many of those boundaries have you almost crossed?"

your chopsticks froze mid-bite, the rice grains crumbling slightly under the sudden pressure.

yeonjun's eyes lit up. "oh my god. there is something."

"there's nothing—"

"you hesitated!" he pointed accusingly, his chopsticks nearly grazing your nose. "spill. now."

you exhaled sharply through your nose. "nothing happened, but maybe i'm... slightly less awkward around him now." you relented, crossing your arms.

yeonjun gasped. "progress!"

"but!" you held up a finger. "it's strictly professional. he's good at his job. that's all."

"sure." yeonjun nodded wisely. "and i'm sure him being tall, handsome, and charming has nothing to do with it."

soobin: practice date #2. tomorrow. 7pm. we're doing a double date to stimulate group pressure. dress casually but nice. no flinching when i touch you.

you: who said i flinch?

soobin: you literally elbowed me in the ribs when i put my arm around you at the bookstore.

you: reflexes. also you deserved it.

soobin: noted. try to resist assaulting me in front of your ex, though. bad for the act.

you: no promises.

soobin: i'm adding "combat training" to your invoice.

you snorted, locking your phone before yeonjun could peer over your shoulders—again.

"oooh, is that mr. perfect boyfriend?" yeonjun sing-songed, swiveling his chair toward you with a grin.

you shoved your phone in your pocket. "it's none of your business."

"that's a yes." he clasped his hands under his chin. "so? what's the plan? romantic stroll by the han river? cozy movie date? kissing practice—"

you snatched the nearest pen off the table and hurled it at him. he dodged with a yelp, the pen clattering against the wall behind him. "we're doing a double date simulation. to practice group dynamics."

yeonjun wiggled his eyebrows. "uh huh. and how many of these practice sessions do you need before you admit you're enjoying this?"

"it's fake." you hissed, rolling your eyes. "he's literally being paid to do this."

"and yet." yeonjun's grin widened as he pointed at your face. "you're blushing."

"i'm annoyed."

"sure." he flopped back in his chair, spinning lazily. "keep telling yourself that."

you stood in front of your closet, staring at the outfit you'd laid out on your bed for the fifth time in ten minutes.

casual but nice.

that's what soobin said.

you held up a silky blouse, then an off-the-shoulder top, then a dress you hadn't worn in months.

too formal. too plain. too... desperate?

with a frustrated groan, you grabbed the first thing that didn't make you second-guess yourself—a light-colored knitted sweater. simple.

you checked your reflection one last time, adjusting the neckline, smoothing your hair, and grabbed your keys.

your phone buzzed.

soobin: don't panic when you see beomgyu. he can be intimidating, but he's just a playful puppy in human form.

deep breath. you got this.

the drive to the restaurant was too short. your fingers drummed against the steering wheel, the lights blurring past as you rehearsed everything in your head.

bookstore. together for two months. no flinching.

you pulled into the restaurant's parking lot, your stomach twisting as you spotted soobin leaning against the entrance, scrolling through his phone.

you stepped out of the car, and his head lifted instantly, his eyes locking onto yours. a slow, knowing grin curled at the corner of his lips.

"took you long enough," he called out, pushing himself off the wall.

"i'm five minutes early," you shot back, crossing your arms.

"and yet, i've been waiting." he closed the distance between you, his voice dropping as he leaned in. "you look nice, by the way."

"thanks," you muttered. "you look good too, i guess."

he chuckled, the sound low and warm. "you ready?" he said, then held out his hand.

you hesitated.

his fingers twitched, waiting.

this is what you're paying him for.

you slipped your hand into his. his grip was warm, firm—reassuring, even.

"remember," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "no flinching."

you exhaled and nodded. "i'll try my best."

the moment you slid into the booth across from beomgyu and his girlfriend, you understood two things.

beomgyu was in fact like a playful puppy—energetic, unrestrained, and radiating chaotic charm. his grin was instant, wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes, and just a little unhinged.

his girlfriend was terrifyingly observant. her sharp eyes flicked between you and soobin like she was already analyzing the act, her gaze lingering just a second too long on the way soobin's arm brushed yours as you settled in. her lips curled faintly—not quite a smile, more like a quiet satisfaction of someone already piecing together a puzzle.

"finally!" beomgyu clapped his hands together, the sound sharp in the hum of the diner. "we've been dying to meet you. soobin never shuts up about—"

soobin kicked him under the table. a swift, unmistakable thud under the table cut him off. beomgyu yelped, shooting him a wounded look before seamlessly recovering.

"—how great his job is," beomgyu finished smoothly, grinning.

you shot soobin a look. really?

soobin's expression didn't change, but the toe of his shoe nudged yours under the table—play along.

"so," beomgyu's girlfriend said, resting her chin on her hand. "how did you two meet?"

ah. the first test.

you opened your mouth, but soobin's hand settled over yours on the table, his tumb brushing your knuckles. "we fought over a book," he said, his voice warm with amusement.

beomgyu gasped. "romantic."

"he reached for it first," you added, relaxing into the lie. "but i may have elbowed him out of the way."

soobin scoffed. "she definitely elbowed me."

beomgyu's girlfriend smirked, and soobin squeezed your hand—good job.

by the time dessert arrived, soobin had already passed three levels of the unspoken couple habits—and you were almost keeping up.

first, the hair tuck.

it happened so casually you almost missed it, when the waiter had just cleared the plates and the air was thick with the scent of caramelized meat and lingering spice—the brush of his fingers against your temple, the fleeting warmth of his knuckles grazing your cheek as he tucked a loose strand behind your ear.

you slightly stiffened, shoulders tensing for half a second, but soobin didn't react. he just leaned back in his seat, one arm slung over the backrest.

"you had something," he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear.

"liar," you muttered back.

his lips twitched. "prove it."

then second, the kimchi pancake.

soobin speared a perfectly crispy bite with his chopsticks and held it out to you, eyebrows raised in challenge. "babe. try it."

the pet name still sent a jolt through you, but you refused to let him see it. you leaned forward, maintaining eye contact as you took the bite from his chopsticks—only to immediately regret it when his smirk deepened.

"good?"

"overrated," you lied, even though the flavors burst on your tongue, savory and tangy.

revenge came as you shoved a spoonful of ice cream toward his face. "your turn."

soobin didn't hesitate. he caught your wrist, fingers circling lightly but firmly, guiding the spoon the rest of the way himself. his lips wrapping around it in a way that was absolutely unnecessary—slow, deliberate.

and unfair.

"sweet," he said, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop.

across the table, beomgyu fake-gagged.

the third, where you stood up to go to the bathroom, sliding out the booth with a murmured excuse.

soobin's hand settled on your waist, his touch light but undeniable, his fingers just enough to press into the fabric of your shirt—it was possesive yet casual. boyfriend-coded.

and—

you didn't flinch.

progress.

the dinner ended with beomgyu dramatically clutching his chest, letting out an exaggerated gasp. "i take it back," he announced, pointing between you and soobin. "you two are disgusting. i've lost my appetite."

you blinked, lowering your fork. "what?"

beomgyu groaned, slumping back against the leather booth. "the looks," he insisted, miming a swoon. "the little hand squeezes under the table—don't think i didn't see that. and the way he feeds you—"

soobin kicked him again. harder this time.

this time, beomgyu yelped loud enough that a few heads turned at nearby tables. his girlfriend just smirked, swirling her drink with a knowing look.

"you two are good," she mused, her sharp eyes flicking between you and soobin. "almost too good."

you stiffened, but soobin just laughed, his fingers lacing through yours on the table. "jealous?" he teased, squeezing your hand tightly.

beomgyu groaned again. "i can't take it. can we leave before i lose my will to live?"

soobin rolled his eyes. "drama queen," he muttered under his breath.

as you all stood to leave, beomgyu slung an arm around soobin's shoulder, whispering something that made soobin shove him off with an exasperated sigh.

outside the restaurant, beomgyu's girlfriend pulled you aside while the boys bickered over the bill. "for the record," she murmured, "he's never brought a client to meet us before."

your breath hitched. "this is just practice."

"sure." she smirked. "but if you were real? i'd definitely approve."

beomgyu and his girlfriend lingered for a moment, exchanging final teasing remarks before waving goodbye.

"see you at the next one," beomgyu called, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at soobin.

soobin rolled his eyes, shoving him lightly. "go home, gyu."

beomgyu laughed, throwing an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder as they walked away. "good luck with your client," he sing-songed, just loud enough for you to hear.

soobin sighed, rubbing his temples like he was already exhausted by the mere thought of beomgyu's antics.

soobin lingered beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets, the glow of the streetlights casting long shadows across his face.

"you survived," he mused, glancing at you sideways.

"barely," you muttered, rubbing your temples. "beomgyu is... a lot."

soobin chuckled. "understatement."

a comfortable silence settled between you, the kind that didn't feel forced—just two people decompressing after an eventful evening.

this was a performance. you'd seen the way he slipped into his role so easily—the way his voice softened at all the right moments, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long to make you feel special. it was flawless.

"do you ever turn it off?" you asked before you could stop yourself, breaking the silence between the two of you.

soobin blinked, his expression flickered for half a second. "what?"

"do you ever get tired of being everyone's dream guy and never yourself?"

he barked out a startled laugh, but was hollow. "that's not what i'm hired for."

"that's not an answer to my question."

the streetlight caught the tension in his jaw as he looked away. for the first time tonight, he seemed different—like you could see the layers unraveling behind his mask, like you'd pulled a thread he didn't want loose.

"it's easier this way," he said finally, voice quieter. "no surprises or disappointments."

you recognized the words for what they were—a shield.

he was too good at his job because he did care—just not in a way that ever left him vulnerable. his reviews praised him for being 'the perfect boyfriend', but you wondered if anyone ever asked what he got out of it—besides the money. if he ever felt like an actor in everyone else's story, but never the main character in his own.

"must be lonely," you said softly.

he stiffened. "i don't—

he cut himself off, exhaling through his nose. for a second, it seemed like he might actually say something real—something raw—but then his shoulders listed in a practiced shrug.

"it's just a job." the words were light, but the way he avoided your eyes betrayed him. "you shouldn't worry about me, i'm here to help you."

before you could press further, your phone buzzed in your pocket—a sharp, unwelcome sound in the quiet between you. you fished it out, half-irritated, and glanced at the screen

yeonjun: so??? how was the double date, did he feed you dessert?

you huffed and rolled your eyes, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

you: shut up. it was practice. nothing more.

soobin peeked over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen before you could hide it. his lips curled into a smirk. "work husband checking in?"

you snapped your phone shut. "work what—?"

"yeonjun," he said, nodding toward your phone. "the coworker who booked me for you. sounds like he's invested."

you snapped your phone shut, but not fast enough. his smirk was already in place, smooth and effortless—the perfect mask sliding back on.

"he's just nosy," you grumbled, shoving your phone into your pocket.

soobin's eyes crinkled at the corners. "mhm. sure."

you elbowed him lightly. "don't start."

he laughed, the sound warm and rich in the cool night air. "wouldn't dream of it."

you fished your keys from your bag, the weight of them familiar in your palm—your escape route, your reminder that none of this was real, no matter how convincingly you'd played the part tonight.

soobin walked behind you, hands tucked lazily into his pockets, the fabric rustling softly with each movement. his shoulder brushing yours as you walked toward the parking lot.

the parking lot was quiet, the hum of distant traffic filling up the comfortable silence between the two of you.

you hesitated, keys jingling in your grip, clicking the unlock button on your key fob. the car chirped in response, the headlights flashing twice—bright, impatient almost like a silent plea. "so. that went... okay?"

soobin tilted his head slightly as he studied you. "better than okay. you didn't flinch once."

"yeah well," you said, swinging your car door open, "i had a decent teacher."

his grin widened, slow and pleased. "aw. was that a compliment?"

you raised your eyebrow. "don't let it go to your head."

you slid into the driver's seat, but before you could shut the door, soobin's hand caught the frame, holding it open. he leaned down slightly, the streetlight casting shadows across his face, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "seriously. you didn't even flinch once. even when i—"

his fingers brushed your wrist where it rested on the steering wheel, then reaching toward your face, swiftly tucking the loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"—did that."

then he straightened, stepping back with that infuriating smirk—radiating his usual confidence. "see you at the dinner, babe."

the door clicked shut before you could retaliate.

you groaned, gripping the wheel.

just two days left.

"do you ever turn it off?"

soobin's fingers tapped restlessly. your voice clung to him, sharper than the cold air outside.

"do you ever get tired of being everyone's dream guy and never yourself?"

no one had ever asked him that. his chest tightened by the surfacing memory.

clients didn't pay for real. they paid for better—better than their exes, better than loneliness, better than whatever hollow version of love they'd settled for before. and soobin was good at giving them that. flawless, even. five-star reviews across the board.

you didn't ask for better.

you wanted honesty, the raw truth of what was behind the mask, the shield.

he dragged a hand down his face. he'd almost answered. for one reckless second, when your eyes held his under the flickering lights—sharp and seeing too much—he'd wanted to tell you, the raw truth.

but it shouldn't matter. that wasn't what you were paying him for.

the whole point of his job—no attachments, no complications. just a transaction. a role.

but you kept asking things that weren't on the script.

"how many of these fake relationships have you done?"

a question most clients asked, but not like that. not like they were counting how many times he'd pretended to care—not like you.

the neon sign of the late-night convenience store buzzed overhead, casting flickering pink light across soobin's face as he leaned against the brick wall outside. beomgyu had dragged him here under the urgency of needing late night snacks, but the way his friend was now smirking at him—chip bag crinkling in his grip—told him this was an interrogation in disguise. "so," beomgyu drawled, tossing a chip into his mouth. "when's the wedding?"

soobin let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "shut up."

beomgyu grinned mischievously. "i'm serious, the way you looked at her?" beomgyu fake gagged. "i almost threw up my kimchi pancakes. digsusting."

"it's called acting," soobin retorted, rolling his eyes at the dramatic antics of beomgyu.

"acting my ass. you've never looked at a client like that before." beomgyu shot back with a teasing grin.

soobin hesitated, the silence stretching for too long. beomgyu's smirk faltered when soobin didn't immediately fire back. his voice softened, just a fraction. "no way—wait. do you like her?"

soobin flicked his gaze away, taking a slow sip of his drink. the carbonation burned his tongue. he shrugged casually before answering. "i like getting paid."

there was another silence. then—

"bullshit." beomgyu crumpled the empty chip bag and lobbed it at his head. "you're a terrible liar when it comes to these stuff."

soobin swatted it away, scowling. "there's nothing to lie about. she's a client. end of story."

beomgyu studied him, uncharacteristically serious. "you know what your problem is? you're so used to playing the perfect boyfriend for strangers that you don't know how to be real with someone who actually sees you."

soobin's jaw clenched. "that's not—"

"you looked at her tonight," beomgyu pressed. "not the way you do with clients. the way you used to do, back when you still—"

"drop it, gyu."

a sharp pang twisted in soobin's chest.

beomgyu sighed, but didn't push further. "look, all i'm saying is—if you keep acting like you don't care about anything, eventually you won't."

soobin rolled his eyes. "since when are you the wise one?"

"since always." beomgyu grinned, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "now buy me more snacks. my advice isn't free."

୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / part four / part five ୨♡୧

© bangtanbeom 2025

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: None ?

A/N: Dawg. I love this shit.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

P3: Affection

wc: 2000+

Two days later, I find myself outside Matt’s house again, regretting my life choices.

My brother Baylen has been home for all of five minutes before we’re already at each other’s throats. Nothing major—just the usual biting remarks, the passive-aggressive tension that’s existed between us for as long as I can remember. It’s not like we have some tragic backstory; we just don’t get along.

So, I use this project as an excuse to get out, even if it means stepping into enemy territory.

Matt’s house is clean but has a certain emptiness to it. The walls are bare, the furniture simple and unassuming. There are no candles, no decorative pillows, no family photos—nothing that gives off any sense of warmth. It’s functional, but it lacks a motherly touch, and for some reason, that sits with me more than it should.

Matt opens the door, nodding in greeting before stepping aside to let me in.

“No Chris?” I ask, scanning the space as I drop my bag near the couch.

Matt shakes his head. “He’s out, probably with Trevor.”

“Good,” I mutter under my breath, though a tiny part of me isn’t sure if I mean it.

Matt leads me to the dining table, where our books and notes are already set up. We work in comfortable silence, his presence easy to be around despite how little he speaks. He isn’t overly friendly, but he isn’t cold either—just somewhere in between.

I watch as Matt bites his lip, staring down at his phone with his face scrunches. 

“What’s up?” I ask. 

Matt shakes his head, letting out a sight as he runs his hands through his hair. “It’s–um…nothing, I just, ugh.” He brings his hand to his mouth, chewing on his nails. “It’s this girl, she’s, uh–I wanna ask her out, but I just don’t know… how?” 

My heart pulses as I look at his flushed cheeks. He’s so sweet. 

“What’s holding you back?” I ask, placing my hands in my lap as I give him my undivided attention. 

How are Matt and Chris even related? Matt’s so nice and Chris is… 

Well, Chris. 

“Do you know Mia?” I shake my head at his question. Mia didn’t sound familiar. “Well, I really like her and I’m just–-I’m not very good with girls, I guess.” 

My eyes widen with disbelief, my hand slapping over my mouth as I hold back a laugh. 

Matt squirms in his seat. “What’s so funny?” 

He’s so clueless. 

“Matt,” I huff, licking over my lips as I hold back a smile. “You’re great with girls. You’re sweet, you’re thoughtful…just–just ask!” I exclaim, placing my hand on his shoulder. 

His cheeks flourish with a more vibrant hue of red. “Thanks. But, how do I even ask?” 

“You like her?” 

He nods. 

“Well, make her feel special. Ask her on a date you know she’d like and be yourself because, trust me, that’s enough,” I direct. 

Matt’s body slumps with a relaxing breath. “Thank you, I think I’m just overthinking this shit,” he smiles, letting out an airy laugh. 

I lower my hand back down to my lap. “Anytime. I overthink too, it’s okay,” I joke. 

“What about you?” he asks. 

What about me? 

Noticing my confused expression, Matt explains more. “Any guy–or girl troubles?” 

My fingers intertwine with each other, fiddling as I stare back at my computer screen. “I, um, not really. The only guy troubles is my brother.” I huff. 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Trust me, I get that.” 

The conversation dies down as we settle into a comfortable silence. Clicks of fingers typing on keyboards echo as we direct our attention towards the class work. 

After about twenty minutes, the front door opens, followed by the familiar jingling of Trevor’s collar. My body tenses instinctively before I can stop myself.

Of course.

Chris strolls in like he owns the place, his sharp eyes immediately landing on me. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a beat too long before kicking off his shoes and heading toward the kitchen.

I ignore him, focusing on my notes. Or at least, I try.

“You’re back,” Chris finally says from across the room.

I roll my eyes. “Observant.”

Matt sighs. “Chris.”

“What?” Chris leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “I just wasn’t expecting her to voluntarily step foot in this house again.”

“Trust me, if I had another option, I’d take it,” I shoot back, gripping my pen tighter than necessary.

Chris smirks, the kind that makes my stomach twist in the most annoying way. “Must be bad if you’d rather be here.”

I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a response, turning back to Matt, who’s clearly used to this dynamic but looks vaguely tired of it.

We continue working, but Chris doesn’t leave. Instead, he makes himself comfortable, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets as if he’s trying to be a distraction on purpose.

Trevor, traitor that he is, trots over and plops down near my chair, his tail thumping lazily against the floor. I reach down to scratch behind his ears, fully aware that Chris is watching.

“You two fight like children,” Matt mutters, flipping through his notes.

Chris and I both turn to glare at him, which only seems to amuse him more.

“You should’ve been an only child,” Chris quips.

Matt hums. “Believe me, sometimes I wish I was.”

I smirk. “Smartest thing you’ve said all day.”

Chris shoots me an unimpressed look. “Hilarious.”

For a while, it’s mostly quiet, aside from the scratching of pens against paper and the occasional shuffling of notes. Every so often, I can feel Chris’s gaze flicker to me, though I pretend not to notice.

Then, without warning, he plops down in the chair directly across from me, arms resting on the table.

“You two are boring,” he announces.

Matt doesn’t even look up. “Then leave.”

Chris ignores him, his eyes on me instead. “You always this serious when you work?”

I raise a brow. “You always this much of a pain in the ass?”

Chris smirks, drumming his fingers against the wood. “Depends on who you ask.”

I scoff. “Let me guess—if I asked Trevor, he’d say you’re insufferable.”

Chris leans back in his chair, grinning. “Oh, he loves me. He’s just playing favorites right now.”

Trevor, as if on cue, sighs contently from his spot at my feet.

I smirk. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Chris exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Matt finally sets his pen down, rubbing his temples. “Are you two going to do this the whole time?”

Chris and I exchange glances before I shrug. “Probably.”

Matt sighs. “Great.”

We manage to work for another hour, though Chris remains an infuriating presence. Every so often, he throws in some sarcastic comment, just enough to get under my skin but not enough for me to take the bait fully. It’s like he enjoys testing my patience, and unfortunately, I have a limited supply.

By the time we wrap up, my head’s starting to ache from the sheer force of keeping my annoyance in check.

As I gather my things, Chris leans against the doorway, arms crossed. “So, same time next time?”

I scoff. “You wish.”

Matt shakes his head as he follows me to the door. “You two exhaust me.”

As I reach for the handle to open the door, Trevor suddenly stands up, his tail wagging energetically as he trots over to me. He nudges his head against my legs, an oddly insistent gesture that I can’t quite place.

"What's up, cutie?" I mutter, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears, but Trevor doesn’t seem satisfied. He sits at my feet, then looks up at me with an almost mournful gaze, like he’s trying to get my attention.

I chuckle, thinking maybe he just wants more love, but then, with surprising tenderness, he leans into my side, resting his head against my shoulder. It isn’t a normal gesture for him—he’s always playful, a little too energetic, but this is different. It feels… intimate. Protective, almost.

I freeze, my fingers halting mid-scratch as I stare at him, confused by the sudden shift in his behavior. Trevor’s never been this affectionate, at least not in a way that feels so personal. It’s as if he’s trying to comfort me, but I can’t understand why.

I feel a shift in the air—a presence that isn’t quite right. My gaze flicks up toward the door, and I catch Chris standing there, watching us. His posture is stiff, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. His jaw is set, his eyes a little too focused on Trevor and me. His lips part like he wants to say something but can’t.

Then Trevor does something I hadn’t expected. He nuzzles his face against mine, nudging my cheek with the same gentle pressure he’d shown when he leaned into me earlier. It feels different this time, like it carries an extra layer of tenderness, something that goes beyond a simple gesture of affection.

Chris's eyes widen, and for a moment, his expression falters—almost like he recognizes something. A brief flicker of emotion flashes in his eyes before his face hardens, and he turns away, muttering something under his breath.

“Shit,” he curses softly, his voice a mixture of frustration and something else I can’t place.

I don’t know what just happened, but the atmosphere suddenly feels heavier. Chris shakes his head as if trying to shake off whatever thoughts have crossed his mind. Without saying anything more, he walks quickly past us and out the door, his steps sharp and deliberate.

I watch him go, still processing what just happened with Trevor. There’s a strange, heavy silence between me and the dog as I stand up. Trevor just sits there, looking at me with those big, trusting eyes like nothing’s amiss. But I can tell something has shifted in the air, something I don’t fully understand.

"Matt?" I call softly, turning toward him. He’s standing by the table, his arms folded, looking between me and the door Chris just exited.

“What was that?” I ask, my voice quieter now. "Trevor’s never acted like that before. Why did Chris—"

Matt cuts me off before I can finish. “Forget it.” His voice is calm but firm, the kind of tone that doesn’t invite more questions.

I frown. “Forget what? What’s going on?”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head as he gathers the loose papers on the table. “It’s nothing. Trevor’s just weird sometimes.”

That’s a lie. I know it. And Matt knows that I know it.

I open my mouth to push further, but he beats me to it. “Did you finish the notes on chapter five?”

A deliberate subject change. Deflection at its finest.

I hesitate, glancing toward the door where Chris disappeared, my mind still turning over the strange energy in the room. Trevor’s unusual behavior. Chris’s reaction. The look on Matt’s face now—calm, unreadable, but a little too controlled.

Something is off.

But I can tell Matt isn’t going to give me anything. Not right now.

So I let out a slow breath and nod. “Yeah. I finished them.”Matt gives me a short, approving nod, like that settles it. But as we sit back down, I can’t shake the feeling that I just walked past a locked door—one I wasn’t meant to notice in the first place.

[mischiefmaker615]

Literature Lurking

Summary: Loki knows about your writing hobby, but never really looked into what you wrote ABOUT. One day he snuck onto your computer and discovered your smut secret. However, you've never done all these kinks with him, so he gets the idea that you must have been cheating on him! 

Rating: PG14

Note: I might as well have called our ass out Lol

Loki never judged you for what you were into. Even when you told him you were a fan fic writer, he assured you that if anything made you happy, he was happy. You didn’t push the subject after that because you knew you’d die if he even read any of your content. Just the mere knowledge of him knowing you did it at all was enough to feel like you told him everything and left it at that.

Whenever he heard you typing until there might be smoke coming from the keyboard, he knew not to bother you. Youd come to him eventually, and he did make a note in his head that whenever you seemed to have finished your little writing moods- or stopped in the middle of it sometimes, you’d both have sex. It was by far never unwanted, but he often did think of if whatever reason, writing seemed to make you horny.

Curiosity seemed to prod the cat one day enough to finally get up and investigate.

You had a work meeting, so your laptop was left behind and granted Loki the perfect opportunity to take a peek. He wasn’t to educated when it came to navigating the internet, but he did know enough to go to your ‘history’ and click on the most popped up word on the list.

Tumblr.

He wasn’t sure what you wrote about, just that you.. wrote. Half the time he assumed it was perhaps making up some grand make believe plots of dragons or singing people you often enjoyed watching on the television. That’s what fan fiction was right? You had explained it was something where people wrote within the realm of the fandom they enjoyed, but sort of made the existing characters your puppet. Loki was confused enough to just shake it off and just tell you ‘You being happy is all I care about’ but now he wished he asked more questions.

Taking a bit of time to try to figure things out, he saw ‘Account’ and clicked on it. He almost felt guilty sneaking about on this when you weren’t home, but he figured you were already open about this, there should be no shame in him actually reading what you spent sometimes hours working on.

That’s when his eyes grew wide when he saw his name. a lot. Everywhere. On a page that followed with a lewd word and topics, his cheeks instantly grew red. After having a small debate in his head on if he really wanted to know, he clicked on a link that said ‘Masterlist’.

‘’Norns to grace..’’ he breathed, seeing the various titles that ran down for a mile on an endless page. ‘’did she write all of this?” he thought out loud, finding the devoted time to have built all this quite impressive.. it’s the content that had him hesitating.

Until he finally began clicking links. All of them..

Biting. Slapping. Begging. Edging. Fingering. Oral. Daddy. Brats. Doms. Public. Sucking. Threesomes. Masturbation. Cucking. CNC. Ra-

Loki quickly pushed the roller chair back and he slide halfway across the room backwards, his eyes wide while all this information swam in his head. He read them all. He. Read. Them. All.. his heart raced while his hands white knuckled the arms of the chair.

‘Where was she getting her inspiration from.. she hardly talks of her dating life before me.. she and I most certainly haven’t tried even half of these.. is this what she’s into- no.. we would have talked of this.. we would have tried most of this..’

His eyes widened as he stared at the screen across the room. His mind went to if you were cheating on him.. he most certainly haven’t picked up on another man’s scent on you.. and your time is always spent on him if you weren’t at work- work! A coworker? A backroom? You work with men- not just amongst the Avengers.. who were these guys? What were you doing? Loki’s mind was going practically a thousand miles a minute, he felt like he was going insane before he found himself slamming the lap top shut.

This just won’t do..

You exhaled a sigh of relief when you finally shut the door behind you and let your purse fall from your shoulder and land on the ground. Your height dropped about two inches when you slipped off your heels and let the jacket fall next while you continued to walk further into the living room. There was nothing more relaxing than to finally get home after work- almost nothing.

You immediately sought out your boyfriend, looking around to find him nowhere in sight while you furrowed your brows. ‘’Loki?” you called, walking into the bedroom and looked around before the door shut behind you, making you jump and turn around to see his hand flat against it, having closed it firmly.

‘’Loki- how was your day?” You smiled, obviously oblivious to his stare while you scampered over to hug him, but his free hand met you halfway and gripped your chin, stopping you in place.

‘’who is he?”

Your face immediately fell to confusion. ‘’who?”

‘’him. the one you’ve been apparently fulfilling your fantasies with.’’ Loki hissed, stepping forward towards you and his hand gripped your hip from stepping away, immediately pulling you forward so he could bury his face in your hair. With the way he was inhaling, you could tell he was searching for a scent and you immediately pushed against his chest with a mild irritated look.

‘’I’m not cheating on you.’’

‘’of course you’d say that, everyone says that to deny the truth. Jut as you had denied me of all your.. erotic.. nonsense’’ he waved a hand, trying to find words while you raised a brow and scoffed.

‘’nonsense?’’ you stopped yourself from laughing and looked at him to await the joke, the punchline, the ‘got you’ moment while he stared at you with nothing but seriousness. Your face fell and immediately took a step back. ‘’what are you playing at?”

Loki huffed at your denial. ‘’do not play me for a fool darling, in all our years as a couple, you have not once presented yourself to me in such a way you do to others. Are you in love with someone else? Is that it? Or perhaps you’ve grown bored at what I offer you because apparently it’s not enough!’’ he nearly spat and caught your wrist just as it had moved to slap him. ‘’please,’’ he looked mockingly amused. ‘’you’d probably get off on that.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you said through a careful breath while you searched his face to try to figure out what he was talking about. He claims you to have cheated on him? on him?? the god of pleasure! Erotic he had mentioned.. there was nothing you’ve done in your life in the realms of erotic.. all that kinky shit and-

Your eyes grew wide while Loki continued to demand with his eyes, still having his hand on your wrist while his other hand moved over your shoulder to rest against the door, ensuring your place while your eyes looked over towards your computer. No.. nononononono-

‘’you looked? …”

Loki narrowed his eyes. ‘’yes of course I looked- I have every right to look, and I’ve clearly seen all of your apparent experiences you’ve so thoroughly have kept away from me.’’

‘’Loki..’’ you started and looked back at him with red cheeks of embarrassment and your heart began to race ‘’-none of that is real..’’

‘’oh please,’’ he huffed and turned away from you finally. ‘’the description was as accurate as taking a breath. Every detail, every step, it was a vision upon paper. The only concerning moment is that you’ve lacked to share this knowledge with me.. unless you are trying to protect him..’’

‘’there is no one to protect!” you threw your hands in the air before you took a step forward and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face you. ‘’that is what being a writer is! To be able to create.. anything in such detail, readers believe it to be true- none of that was real, obviously- because those stories are with you..’’ your face became redder by the second, wishing you could curl up in a hole with the very face that he had read your smut blogs.

Gods.. how many..

‘’obviously you and I haven’t participated in not even half the list- you must have replaced the name with mine or something-‘’

‘’oh for heaven fake-‘’ you sigh and cup his face, standing as tall as you could while you pulled him down a little to be better nose to nose with you. ‘’you’re the damn god of lies- look at me right now and tell me I’m lying! Those. Stories. Are. Made. Up! No one has done any of that with me, it’s just the.. sick thoughts that come somewhere far deep in my mind where my body apparently feels the need to write and share it..’’ your voice got a little quieter, having to take a few deep breaths while you forced yourself to confess and your eyes immediately dropped down to the ground.

‘’the dark thoughts.. I don’t know where they come from.. but I know much of the.. topics that are upon that account is things that perhaps I wish to try with you- but I’m to embarrassed to try or bring it up.. writing in a way makes me feel like I sort of done it and gets that itch away..’’

Loki’s brows were furrowed, gazing upon you like he was trying to study, to pick up on something like a lie but found none. He blinked several times, his own feeling of embarrassment through assumption twisted into now feeling terrible by his approach on things, making his eyes widen and his body took a step back.

‘’Y/N..’’ he started, his lips searching for words that only came out in a whisper. ‘’I’m sorry..’’

‘’no, I’m sorry..’’ you sighed and looked up at him. ‘’you knew I wrote, but I should have been more specific on what.. it’s just a little embarrassing talking about any of that stuff in real life..’’

‘’then.. why write it if you are unable to talk about it?” Loki asked.

You looked at him sheepishly and rubbed your arm. ‘’it’s easier to do embarrassing stuff you really want to do behind a screen where no one can judge you.. which is why I dreaded to day anyone I know in real life would come across it..’’

Loki raised a brow and chuckled. ‘’you think doing such things is embarrassing?”

You blushed. ‘’well.. it feels out of my character.. how people see me, and then perhaps doing the complete opposite behind closed doors.. and angel in the streets and a demon in the sheets, type deal..’’

This had Loki laugh and move forward to wrap his arms around you in a tight hug, your cheeks pressing against his chest while a hand cradled the back of your head while an arm wrapped around your middle. ‘’so.. these are things you secretly want to do- or at least try.. but your to shy to ask me.’’

You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face more in his chest. ‘’yes..’’ though writing as a whole is fun anyway.. ‘’but I don’t want you to do things you’re not comfortable with and suck it up for my sake- nor do I wish you to do things just because I had to mention it..’’

Loki laughed and kissed the top of your head. ‘’despite my many powers darling, I cannot read your mind. If you wish to try something, that is where we are going to have to communicate.’’ He said gently and pulled back enough to place a finger under your chin and tilt your head up to look at him. ‘’it may be embarrassing of sorts, but I promise I will not judge you or think of you any differently. I promise.’’

Despite your red cheeks, you smiled up at him and tilted your head down to kiss your hand. ‘’I’ll work on my communication, I promise.’’

‘’in all regards, your writing skills are quite impressive and much of your stories and ideas intrigued me.’’ Loki lightly shrugged with a smile while his hands then began to travel down to your waist before going to grip your ass, his ‘missing you’ state coming back since you did just come home from work and was always a ‘to long apart from each other’ state.

‘’but I do wonder.. how did you know to write particular things if you’ve never even done them yourself before?”

You looked at him sheepishly while your hands rose to rest on his shoulders. ‘’the list where I have all the books I read is far longer than the list where I write..’’

‘’well then,’’ Loki smirked and leaned down a little just enough to curve his hands before he had you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapping around his neck and caught the lustful look in his eyes.

‘’which one of your topics should we try first?”

Biting. Slapping. Begging. Edging. Fingering. Oral. Daddy. Brats. Doms. Public. Sucking. Threesomes. Masturbation. Cucking. CNC. Ra-

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @westwindrhapsody @lulubelle814 @katelinp @cueloki @hailey-laufeyson

[fathermothwrites]

Why don’t you let us help.. (ii x vess x muse)

This is not proofread so i apologize. My first formal attempt at writing a fic. All for my bestie @emptypringlescanister 😫♥️

THIS IS NSFW SO MINORS DNI

It had been a long week, a long month really. Work was hectic as all hell, and working with the public was never easy. Your body ached and your mind was well passed tired. So the grueling hours on top of the recent lack of sleep. It was all starting to pile up to say the least.

The biggest cherry on top of the shit pile however, was that the guy you’ve been ‘seeing’ turned out to be horrible in the bedroom. You weren’t superficial enough to fully give up on him. But it was disappointing, if you wanted to take care of yourself after every shag you would have just gotten a new toy. But he was sweet, he held the door and never pressured you into anything.

In this day and age that was hard to come by. Or at least that’s what you told your roommates. The two men sitting on the couch faces alight with amusement. They encouraged you to do whatever made you happy. Well vessel did ii however was much more forthcoming with his opinion.

“I think you should dump the poor idiot. It’s not that hard to navigate between a woman’s legs” he spoke the words confidently, that same smug smirk he always wore when he thought he was right. Vessel stifled back a laugh and slapped ii’s chest. “Alright mate, maybe he’s just inexperienced or something. Not everyone is a ladykiller” trying to make any excuse to try and lessen the embarrassment on your part.

But their words were stuck deep in your mind. After another long week of finishing on your own fingers. Your mind started to drift from your former muse, instead being lead directly to the bright eyes of the shorter of your two roommates. His sly smile and wide shoulders. The way he seemed so confident in his words. I mean sure you’d heard him bring women home. You’d never made noises quite that loud before. But the women seemed to fully enjoy it.

Night after night you found yourself whining his name into your pillow. Writing under your own touch doing all you could to satisfy that insatiable ache. Vessel found his way into those thoughts eventually. Especially when you could hear him through your shared wall. Playing his keyboard or spread out on the couch writing. You were starting to think maybe you just needed a good lay.

That your hormones were getting the best of you. Never having thought of these two men in that way before. Not that they were unattractive. It was just an unspoken rule, maybe that’s why the taboo got you all hot and bothered. However you weren’t the only one acutely aware of your situation. Both men had noticed how tightly wound you had been.

Confining yourself to your room. Rarely outside of your pajamas on your days off. The way you couldn’t seem to hold conversation let alone eye contact with either of them. So it was a surprise when you came home one night to an empty house. A messily wrapped box on the counter. The rectangular box peaking out of the paper in some spots.

A messily written note laid beside it on the countertop. Etched In red pen on a spare piece of printer paper. No doubt of ii’s doing.

“obviously the bloke won’t shag you right. Dump him and use this for a few hours, we miss our fun Rachel”

The words made your cheeks flush. Reading it over a few times, before you built up the courage to open the package. Your jaw falling slack when your eyes landed on the wand. The large white device was no doubt one of the expensive ones. It came with a plug in cord, because in ii’s mind it was more powerful that way. Couldn’t have it dying on you, not when your sanity seemed to be at stake.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you discarded the box. Running off to your room, the device definitely relieving a good bit of your stress. By the time you finished your little play session. It was well into the early morning. You had just drifted off as the sound of the front door opening woke you. Rubbing at your eyes as you heard the two going to their respective rooms. A sudden wave of embarrassment taking hold of you.

His little gift definitely helped, but not in the way he hoped. Especially now with this new layer of shame. So when you continued to hide away. ii grew impatient, thinking that maybe that wasn’t enough. It took a little convincing. But he soon got vessel on his side. Deciding to make a plan to force you to hang out with them. He could only fix this problem if he could at least get you to sit and speak to them.

So ii sent a message in the shared group chat. Telling you that you were going to participate in movie night. or they were dragging you out of your room by force. Of course it was playful but there was definitely something about the way he said it. Like he had much more in mind for you. You let your mind run wild with possibilities for the rest of your shift. Time seeming to only drag now that you had plans.

Soon thought you were pulling into the driveway. Your hands shaking slightly at the sudden rush of adrenaline. Pushing your key into the door. You were greeted with a dim lit room. The smell of pizza and beer filling your nostrils. Closing the door behind you, ii instantly got to his feet. Making his way through the living room to greet you. “Long time no see stranger, here you sip this I’m gonna have ves pick the movie” he spoke smoothly. Clearly having nursed his own drink or two.

Holding the chilled bottle you followed him into the living room. A palate made of blankets and pillows covered the area between the two couches. Essentially blocking you in, taking a sip from your beer as your eyes landed on vessel. Laid out on the couch in a sweatshirt and shorts. Hair messy under the hood as he gazed up at you with an attentive smile. “Ah almost forgot your pretty face ya’ been gone so long” he mused and chuckled.

Motioning for you to sit wherever you wanted. The two men sharing a momentary look between them. Watching as you settled down onto the floor pallet. Vessel had some horror movie pulled up, explaining his choice to you. Though you were far too busy wondering exactly where this night was going. ii soon joined the both of you. Handing you a plate of random food things they’d picked up. You couldn’t deny it did feel good to be doted on. But it didn’t help your wandering mind, especially when they both moved to sit beside you.

Their towering frames making you feel much smaller than you were used to. Nervously staring at the screen as the movie started. Vessel stealing a cookie from your plate. “Eat something love, especially if you’re drinking. Can’t have you passing out on us so early” he teased his eyes never leaving the screen. A satisfied hum leaving his lips as you immediately began to nervously eat.

The entirety of the movie the two men seemed to be passing you back and forth. Vessel brushing your hair back, ii draping his arm over the couch behind you. Sharing glances between each other every time you seemed to stiffen up at their actions. As the first movie ended vessel handed the remote to you. “Pick something you don’t mind not paying attention to” he spoke and sat up. Grabbing the empty bottles and your plate.

Leaving you alone with two as he cleaned up a bit. ii chuckled seeing your wide eyed expression. “Don’t worry, we aren’t going to bite. Well not unless you ask me to of course” his words fell from his lips in a soothing tone. Gently rubbing your back, chuckling as your hands fumbled to find some random movie. “Don’t be so nervous it’s just us dove, we won’t give you anything you can’t handle yeah?” He added taking the remote from your hands.

Smiling down at you as he sat up. Brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “You look so shocked, you know you shouldn’t be. The walls in this house are rather thin. And my name sounds far too beautiful falling from these lips, I fancy hearin’ it for myself” he spoke his eyes locked on yours. Moving his hand to brush your cheek before settling his thumb on your lips.

Just in time for vessel to return taking his place at your side. A smirk playing on his lips seeing the way ii had you practically drooling already. “It seems the present ii was so kind to get you. Didn’t exactly fix our predicament. So maybe being properly fucked will hm?” Vessel hummed his fingers tracing over your neck. Circling your shoulder before cupping your jaw. Turning you to look up at him. “Would you like that? For us to fuck you darling” his words were a dangerously low whisper. Eyes tracing over your features for any sign of resistance.

You shook your head and ii chuckled. Leaning in to speak directly into your ear. “Oh you’re a big girl use your words baby” he urged warm lips brushing the shell of your ear. Your body flushed, melting into their touch. “.. yes, please” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them. You meant each word, but the logical part of you screamed to tell them that this was a bad idea. But flush between their bodies you could do little with your critical thinking.

A satisfied hum left both of their lips. Leaning toward you, only to meet each others lips instead of yours. Vessel cradled ii’s jaw, capturing the smaller man in a slow sensual kiss. Only pulling away after they were both out of breath, Ii immediately attaching his lips to yours. Stealing your breath with his heated kiss. Vessel busting himself with kissing your neck. Sucking soft purple marks into the flesh. ii swallowing each moan as they fell from your lips to his.

“Good girl so responsive for us” vessel mused against your skin. ii allowed his hands to roam the expanse of your back. Snaking his hand up to tangle in your hair. Separating the kiss as he pulled the strands. Vessel wasting no time in replacing ii’s lips with his own. Smiling against your warm skin. Slipping his tongue past your puffy lips. A groan left ii’s lips at the sight. “God you look so perfect like this baby” his words were laced with lust. The gravel of it evident in his tone.

“Let vessel take care of you, I’ll be right back princess” he spoke, his words barely processing before he stood. Vessel keeping you entirely entranced as his hand caressed your breast. Kneading it as he hummed against your lips. His thumb brushing over your clothed nipple. Feeling it pebble under his touch. His teeth gently biting at your lip. Pulling away for a moment to watch you. Wide eyes darkened with lust. “Such a good girl.. feels good yeah?”

Your mind fell blank when his hand trailed down your torso. Settling between your spread legs. Rubbing slow circles over your clothed heat. “I can’t wait to fuck this tight little cunt” voice just above a whisper as he watched your expression. Lip tucked between his teeth as he coaxed wanton moans from your lips. ii returned after a few agonizing minutes. “I’ve got her nice and warmed up for you mate” vessel spoke up to the man before him.

Craning his neck to kiss his friend as ii bent to thank him. “Perfect, your reward is getting to be the first to make her cum” he spoke against vessel’s lips. The taller man groaned at ii’s words. Taking the toy ii had retrieved from his hands. Moving to plug in the wand. ii held his hand out for you “up you go princess, let’s get you out of these clothes yeah?” His fingers brushed the hem of your shirt. Waiting until you gave him consent. But the moment he had it he was practically ripping the fabric from your body.

Capturing your lips with his once again. Before pulling you into him. Turning you around before settling back onto the padded floor. Sitting you between his legs hooking your thighs over his muscular legs. Spreading you bare, raising his eyebrows at the creak your poor hips made at the extension. “I didn’t break you yet did I doll?” He asked looking down at you from over his shoulder. Your flushed face gave away that you were okay and he quickly let it go. Vessel returning just in time to settle between your legs. Smiling down at you like a mad man.

Taking in your fully bare form, both of them were straining against their clothes. So hard it almost hurt. “Go ahead vess, the faster you get her off the faster we can finally fuck her” ii urged and vessel nodded eagerly. Turning the wand on he leaned forward. ii settling you back against him. Holding your throat in one hand as the other moved down to spread you better. Vessel pressing the toy directly to your clit. His attention fully on the way your body responded. “Yeah? S’that good love?” Your frantic head shaking assuring him that he was doing perfect.

His cheeks flushed, practically drooling as he watched you. ii smirked at the taller man, “look what you’ve done Rachel, you’ve made our boy stupid for your cunt” his words only made vessel blush deeper. “He’s practically drooling, I think he deserved to cum soon yeah? Why don’t you go ahead and let go for us” his words made your head dizzy. Vessel turned the wand up to its highest setting. Watching you with pure excitement in his gaze. You didn’t last much longer. Overwhelmed with all of the attention.

The moment you tipped over the edge. They were practically all over you. Vessel kissing you deeply. Drool covering both of your lips by the end of it. ii carefully urging you forward, until you were perfectly on your hands and knees. Vessel breaking the kiss to eagerly undress himself. ii’s hands roaming over your hips. Watching as your cunt clenched around nothing. “Fuck… please tell me you’re ready, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” ii’s voice was desperate. His touch gentle but his thoughts were far from it. When you eagerly begged to be taken they both hissed in desperate relief.

ii pulling himself free of his clothes, stroking his cock slowly as he pulled vessel closer. “Go ahead and show vessel how good of a cock sucker you are baby” his words were soon followed with a gasp from vessel. The smaller man holding his throat tightly as he leaned in to kiss him. Groaning against his lips with every stroke of his own hand. But when vessel shook with a wave of pleasure he pulled away. Watching as you took the man into your mouth. His jaw falling slack at the sight. Stroking himself once more before lining up with your wet entrance.

Pushing in slowly, he hissed at the way you gripped him. His head was practically spinning already. Hands moving from vessel to grip your hips. As vessels tangled in your hair. “F-fuck oh my god” vessel practically whimpered his thighs shaking. Trying desperately to take in everything. Gaze shifting from your lips around him to the way ii bottomed out inside of you. ii gave you a moment to adjust before he started to rock his hips. A string of curses and pants leaving his lips at the feeling of your warm cunt.

“Such a good little thing for us, we just might have to keep you yeah?” He spoke earning an eager nod from vessel. A wide smile on his lips as he could already feel himself getting close. “Fuck you feel so good, made just for our cocks..” ii groaned

Bringing his hand down to slap the flesh of your ass. Hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he quickened his pace. The both of you were amused when vessel shook and whined. Exclaiming just how close he was. “Fuck.. can I, can I cum in your mouth baby” his words were broken with panting breaths. Staring down at you like you hung the stars. Before letting out a shaking groan, hands tightening in your hair.

Finishing in the warmth of your mouth. Pulling you off of him with a pop. His sensitive cock starting to slowly soften. As he leaned down to kiss you hungrily. “Fuck, thank you.. such a good girl. Made me feel so fucking good” he breathed out as he pulled away. Pressing his forehead against yours. the motion on ii’s hips bumping your heads together making him chuckle. “Does he feel good baby, I know I love watching it” he spoke in awe of the sight before him.

ii smirked at the sight of you two. His thrusts becoming more erratic. “Getting close princess… ves.. get the wand” his grunts interrupting each word as his hips met your ass. Sure to leave bruises in their wake. Vessel did as told turning on the wand once again. “Can you spread that pretty cunt for me baby?” He spoke softly against your cheek. Waiting until you are ready to press the vibratory to your swollen clit. ii groaned at the way you squeezed around him. Moving his hands from your hips to lace them together under your chin. Holding you up so vessel could access you better.

“Good.. fucking.. girl” ii panted feeling you throb around him with each thrust. The room was filled with the wet sounds of your body and the low buzz of the toy. Vessel’s quiet pants muffled by the sound of ii’s desperate cries. Clenching his teeth as he felt the pressure within him ready to break. “I’m gonna cum baby, make you all mine.” He gasped watching the way you shook below him. Coming undone around him. Griping him as you rode out your high. “Yeah you deserve my cum don’t you, been such a good fucking girl.. ahh fuckkk” his voice cracked as he thrusted deep inside of you.

Doubling over as he allowed his orgasm to wash over him. Biting down onto your shoulder to keep himself from yelling. Vessel kept the vibrator on you until he was sure you were both done. Smiling widely as you both relaxed. ii carefully pulling out before pulling you to lay against his chest. Vessel moving to sit on the other side of you both. “Well, that was certainly a lot of fun, hopefully you have fully given up on that bloke now” ii spoke and chuckled kissing the side of your head.

“Why don’t I run us all a bath yeah?” Vessel spoke brushing your hair away from your face. “You look pretty fucked out right about now” he teased and pecked your lips. “Hopefully something we will see a hell of a lot more often” ii mused and smiled at the both of you. “Agreed” you breathed out voice barely above a whisper.

[leyavo]

⛓️‍💥| Out on your own |

Part Task Force 141 x Tech!reader

Summary: After Graves relieves Ghost and Soap from their shared mission, Jinx is left to fend for herself in the Fuerzas Especiales facility against the shadows. (Loosely based on the mw2 video game, alone/ghost team mission)

Featuring: Graves, Soap, Ghost and Jinx (tech!reader). Graves and Jinx have history.

[series Masterlist] < more tech!reader there

The glowing flickers of monitor screens, lit the dingy room. A desk pushed against the wall, surveillance and the whirring of computers filling the silence.

No natural light entering the small room. Jinx felt like she’d be digging her own grave, the one person she’d tried to dodge now stared down at her.

“Look at you, got yourself a name and everything,” Graves said, his arms crossed over his chest as he leant on the edge of the desk. His finger resting close to the trigger of his gun. “How’s that bad luck treating you Jinx?”

Luck, had never been on Jinx’s side since she was a kid. In the back of her mind, she knew that no one would come and save her, not if they knew the truth. Not if they knew where she’d come from or what she’d done.

The cuffs around Jinx’s wrists bit into her flesh, both secured to the arm rest. Her ankles tied to the chair legs, thankfully the bag over her head had been removed.

A hand twisted in her hair and forced her to look up at Graves, scalp tingling and neck aching.

Graves flicked out his dagger, blade tracing the column of Jinx’s throat and the line of a scar curving from her right ear and down to the collar of her T-shirt.

“Didn’t think I’d recognise you? Huh,” he said, adding pressure against her throat. “I’ve always been watching you, in the shadows. Someone with your set of skills would be valuable to this organisation.”

Valuable, Jinx knew that information lead to currency and safety. The more she learnt, the more they kept her around and valued her. Warmth trickled down her neck, another inch added to the old scar.

“Maybe this is your lucky day, Jinx. What do you say?” Graves leant forward, lifting the blade away.

Jinx spat, a thick blob of her saliva rolling down Graves’s jaw. The back of his hand connected with her cheek, her vision tilting as she and the chair fell to the side. Her shoulder smashing into the concrete floor, a puddle of water soaking her shirt.

“Now that wasn’t very nice was it,” he said, nodding for the man behind her to set her back up. He stepped back, ducking under the swinging lightbulb above them.

The coppery tang of blood swam on top of her teeth, heat of her cheek tender and swollen beneath her eye. “Fuck you,” she spat, red splattering Graves face.

Graves blinked, his palm smearing the blood on his face. “Imagine what the 141 will say when they realise what scum they’ve let into their task force.” The gun he’d discarded on the desk back in his grasp, the back of it slamming into Jinx’s stomach.

Jinx swore, head hanging as she tried to catch her breath. Her trembling breathes shuddering through her whole body.

“Laswell’s gone soft.”

Laswell the first person that offered Jinx a lifeline. An opportunity to make her own luck, instead of being forced to do other people’s bidding. There was no way she’d betray her team, even if they weren’t coming for her. She’d do this for Laswell. No way she’d give Graves what he wanted.

“Now,” Graves said, dragging her chair across the room. “Find me that missile.”

The door opened to the right, but before Jinx could search what laid beyond it, a harsh slap sent her head back down. Two more soldiers appeared either side of her, fingers circling her biceps as the one behind her cut the ties from her ankles. The cuff on her right wrist removed and shoved in one of the pockets of on of their vest.

“Find it yourself,” Jinx snarled, trying to escape their hold. Her cheek smashed into the keyboard, her left wrist cuffed to the locked drawer under the desk.

The shadows retreated, filing out the door one by one.

Graves sat on the desk beside her, grasping her chin, nails sinking into her cheek. “I’m sure 157 would love to pick up that investigation on you again,” he said, shoving her back into the chair and pushing it closer to the desk.

She tried not to react, the flutter of her jaw giving her away. Graves smiled, his hand forcing hers to move the mouse and click on a file.

“Find me that missile and you won’t have to worry about the task force 141 or 157. Make your own luck today Jinx. Would be such a shame to waste such potential.” He tapped the clock on the wall as he stood, the click of numbers counting down.

Jinx stared at the timer, waiting for the door to shut behind Graves. Her gaze darting to the monitor in front of her and the database of information at her fingertips.

One camera in the left corner behind her, the only scrap of security watching her. The webcam above the screen showed a green light, one way they could frame her for searching for the missiles. Either way she wasn’t coming out of this alive. If it wasn’t the shadows it was the two task forces. That or the bloody government, the military and that meant a price on her head.

No, Jinx would have to be smart. Fifty six minutes to gather all the information she could. She’d find that missile and somehow contact Laswell, the last resort being selling it to the highest bidder in order to survive. Maybe even go back to where she came from, that’s all she knew.

Clicking on the secure database, she scrolled through the numbered files. Hundreds and hundreds of data, quick flicks of text she read and then closed for the next one. Her eyes sore, head throbbing as she tried to memorise the key pieces of intel. Tried to trace the maps and the organisations profiled within the facility.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Jinx mumbled to herself, leaning forward to double check what she’d just read. She automatically closed the file and hid it within another, no doubt they would have it backed up so there was no use deleting it.

She stood from the desk, her gaze trailing the lead from the monitor to the computer tower underneath. Crawling to back she dragged it out, ripping the leads out of it and stamping on the tower.

An explosion shook the foundations, the echoes of guns firing in the distance. It was now or never. Jinx ripped the bent metal from the side of the computer tower and flinched as her finger cut on a scrap piece of metal. She pried it off just as the door flung open and a shadow lunged at her.

She tried to run, but her cuffed wrist yanked her back. The shadow’s hands wrapping around her throat, pressing into her wind pipe. Her left arm useless crushed behind her back, the man’s body pinning to the edge of the desk.

Jinx plunged the metal in the man’s neck swiping it across his throat. Blood spraying on her face, his hands flung to cover the wound as he dropped to the ground bringing her down with him. She scrambled away, watching him choke on his own blood as she caught her own breath.

The timer beeped, the repetition beep drawing Jinx back to the present. To the body lying on the floor, she got to her feet trying to kick the door shut. A sliver of light still entering the room.

She spun around tugging the cuff attached to locked drawer. The jagged piece of metal she’d used as a weapon unreachable. A cry tore from her lips, the bite of the cuff sinking further into her wrist as she tried to pull the drawer out.

“Jinx.”

The sound of his muffled voice sent a shiver up her spine. She glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed as she stared at the two soldiers wearing skeleton masks.

Soap walked closer, jinx taking a step back. Her gaze flitted to his eyes and then to his gun.

“I didn’t tell him anything,” she blurted out. Her heart hammered against her chest as Ghost toed the wrecked computer tower, his fist silencing the timers alarm.

“You know something,” Soap said, glancing to Ghost. He yanked the small axe from his pack and swung it at the chain connecting Jinx’s cuff.

Jinx nodded, pushing the cuff down so she could run her wrist. “What if I do?”

The radio crackled, Captain Price asking for a status. Soap replied, taking up his place outside the room with the rest of the team who were approaching the next area. Ghost hanging back with her.

“Where’s the missile Jinx? Everyone knows that’s why Graves wanted you here,” Ghost said, he cocked his head to the side and looked her up and down.

Time, never seemed to be on her side either. The firing of guns in the distance reminding her to hurry up. Overthink and you’re gone. Bang.

“Chicago.” She didn’t want to use her one and only way out, but there was no way she’d escape the likes of Ghost. Soap maybe yes, but not him.

“Good girl, you’ve been promoted,” Ghost said, pulling a mask out of his pocket and chucking it to Jinx. “Welcome to Ghost team.”

She caught it, slinging it over her shoulder as pushed her hair back.

Ghost patted the shadow down, pulling a pistol and ammo out of the straps of his vest. “Stick with me, Jinx,” he said, passing her the guard’s discarded gun into her hands.

Jinx hesitated, the cool metal meeting her fingertips. She raised the gun, pointing it at Ghost. “I gave you intel, you let me go.” She didn’t expect him to give her a weapon, the weight of holding it up trembling through her arms.

He didn’t even blink as he stared at her, as if he’d stared at death regularly. He closed the distance, lifting his arm and forcing the gun back to her side.

“Laswell told me where you’re from. We’re not the 157. You be good to me, I’ll be good to you,” he said, plucking the mask off her shoulder and pulling it over her head.

“I’ll be good,” she said, adjusting the mask to sit comfortably over the bridge of her nose.

His thumbs smeared over the black paint under his eyes and he held Jinx’s head, staining the skin around her eyes that were not covered by the skeleton mask.

“Come on Lucky.”

[matts-girlfriend]

Cut The Cameras - Matt Sturniolo

Youtuber!Matt and Videographer!Reader

Chapter 1

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain substance abuse, angst, arguing, tension, mentions of sex, smut, this is a warning for all chapters.

summary ~ When Y/N finds out her boyfriend of three years is cheating—with the girlfriend of the one person she can’t stand the most, Matt everything falls apart. That is, until Chris suggests the unthinkable, a PR relationship. But with cameras rolling, emotions spiraling, and lines blurring, pretending might just hurt more than the heartbreak.

The living room was filled with the low hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the click-clack of a keyboard as Y/N sat cross-legged on the worn-in leather couch, editing the triplets’ latest vlog. Her fingers moved with muscle memory, dragging clips into place, adjusting color grades, syncing audio with cuts. The familiar rhythm should’ve been soothing. But her mind? Elsewhere.

Her phone sat beside her, screen-up, taunting her in silence.

Another glance.

No notifications.

She bit her lip and clicked play on the current edit — Nick falling into the freezing lake after trying to "casually walk across the ice." Chris’s hysterical laughter echoed through the speakers, but even that couldn't crack her tension. She leaned back against the couch cushion, her shoulders tight with something unspoken, eyes flicking back to the phone again.

"You're gonna melt the fucking screen if you stare at it any harder," Nick teased from where he sat upside down on the other side of the couch, feet hanging over the backrest, his phone held above his face.

Chris looked up from his place on the floor, surrounded by empty snack wrappers. “Yeah, Y/N, maybe he’s just takin’ a nap. Doesn’t mean he’s ghosting you.”

“I didn’t say that,” Y/N mumbled, still not looking away from the screen. She could feel the worry sinking claws into her stomach. “I just… I don’t know. He’s never this quiet. Not even a good morning text.”

Chris scooted over and nudged her ankle with his hand. “You shouldn’t be stressin',” he said gently. “Josh wouldn’t ruin what you guys have.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when the front door slammed open like it had been kicked. Everyone in the room jolted, heads snapping up toward the source.

Matt.

He was standing in the entryway, hoodie half-off one shoulder, chest heaving like he’d run here, hair wind-messed. His eyes were sharp. Not in the usual cold and aloof Matt kind of way. No — this was something deeper, something wild. Something wrecked.

Y/N’s heart stuttered.

His gaze found her almost instantly. And whatever emotion was lingering on his face — it vanished like smoke. His jaw clenched, and his steps were harsh as he stormed toward her.

“What the fuck—” she started, but the words died in her throat.

“Did you know?” he barked. Voice sharp, ragged, raw. “Huh?! Did you fucking know, Y/N, that your fuckass boyfriend was fucking Kayla?”

Silence.

Pure, ice-cold silence.

Y/N froze, her body suddenly too heavy to move. Her eyes locked with his, wide, stunned. Her mouth opened. Closed.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she spat back finally, but it was all panic — thin and brittle.

Chris was already on his feet, wedging himself between them. “Alright, what the fuck is going on—?”

“You couldn't satisfy him that bad,” Matt sneered, “that he went for my fucking girl?”

The world stopped.

The air disappeared from the room.

The words hit her like a slap to the chest.

Nick stood up slowly, blinking in disbelief. Chris’s face went pale. And Y/N — Y/N saw red.

She lunged, hand midair before Chris caught her wrist just in time.

“You’re such a fucking dick, Matt!” she screamed, trying to wriggle free.

Chris shoved Matt back hard. “Shut the fuck up, Matt. Don’t fucking take your shit out on her.”

Matt didn’t say anything. His fists were balled. His face blank. But his eyes — those were still burning.

He sat down in the corner chair, glaring at the girl like she had personally betrayed him.

Nick crossed his arms, still looking between the two of them. “Matt, what the fuck happened? What are you talking about?”

Matt exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

“I went to Kayla’s place,” he said bitterly. “Was gonna surprise her. Take her out. I even brought her fucking apple juice ‘cause she said she liked that dumb organic shit. And then—”

He paused.

Swallowed.

“Then I heard it. Moaning. Through the door. So I, I fucking kicked the door in. And there they were. On the couch. Him on top of her like— like she meant nothing.”

A pause stretched out. Chris let out a low whistle under his breath.

Y/N’s stomach twisted violently. It felt like every inch of her skin was set on fire. The way Matt said it so detached, like he had to remove himself emotionally to even recount it — it only made it worse.

She didn’t cry.

Not yet.

She bit her lip hard, nails digging into her palms as she sat in silence. Matt wasn’t looking at her anymore. Thank God.

The buzzing sound of her phone jolted her.

Everyone looked at it.

The screen lit up: Josh (💛)

don’t believe matt

he’s lying

i swear it didn’t mean anything

i’m sorry i’m so sorry i don’t know how this happened

answer your fucking phone

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Chris leaned over, eyes scanning the messages before she could hide them. “Jesus fuck.”

She didn’t even have time to react before the dam broke. A quiet, cracked sob escaped her lips and then the tears were falling fast, hard, uncontrollable. Chris was by her side in an instant, pulling her into his arms, whispering a soft string of “it’s okay, let it out, I got you.”

Matt watched from across the room.

And for a second, there was something in his eyes again. Something that almost looked like guilt. But he looked away too fast to be sure.

He stood abruptly.

Didn’t say anything.

Just stormed off toward the back hallway and slammed a door behind him.

Nick let out a shaky breath. “This is so fucked.”

Chris gently took the phone from her trembling hands and went to her contacts. Without asking, he blocked Josh’s number. “There. Done. You’re not gonna deal with his shit right now.”

Y/N didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.

Her entire world had just been rewired in a matter of minutes.

And worse — Matt had seen it all coming before she did.

“Stay the night,” Chris said softly, brushing her hair back. “You’re gonna need the company.”

She nodded numbly, collapsing further into his side.

She didn’t notice the way the hallway light flicked off behind the closed door.

Or the way Matt sat on the other side of it, back against the wall, staring at the ceiling — like he didn’t know if he was more angry… or just broken.

a/n: If you couldn’t tell, this story is inspired by my c.ai bot. And I’m really sorry for the delay in getting the first chapter out — my mind’s been all over the place lately. I’ve been trying to pull everything together and figure out what to write, all while juggling school and sorting out my housing situation for next semester. So thank you for being patient with me. - Mari taglist:

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