#testing out a different eye style

[neodoesart]

me and my school uniform jacket

[marsalta]

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

－； SQUIRTING FOR THE FIRST TIME ?!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 paring : jing yuan, mydei, phainon, moze & sunday x f!reader

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 tws : nsfw/smut, reader is a hybrid kitty, creampie, chocking, cow-girl, doggy style, reader is implied to be chubby, Sunday is really mean in his part, Moze is gentle, hair pulling, reader licking jing yuans cheek, spanking, nipple play & hair pulling. /ᐠ > ˕ <マ

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 note : art banner is by rororo_mg on X! also not proof read.

＠ 𝒥ℐ𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒰𝒜𝒩！

Jing Yuan had always known you were sensitive—his little kitty was always so easy to tease, so quick to melt under his touch. But tonight, he was learning just how sensitive you really were.

Your tail flicked wildly, ears twitching as he held you down, his cock stretching you open in a way that left you breathless. You were on your stomach, legs trembling as his hands gripped your hips, pulling you back onto his cock with slow, deep thrusts. He was deliberate, as always, testing your reactions, watching your body shiver beneath him.

“Mm, you’re soaking me,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement as he rolled his hips into you. His fingers slid down between your thighs, pressing against your clit in lazy circles, making you whimper. “Are you getting this worked up just from me fucking you?”

You nodded desperately, but that wasn’t enough for him. A sharp slap landed on your ass, making you jolt. “Use your words, little one.”

“Y-Yes! ‘S too much, Yuan—feels s’good!” you mewled, your hands clawing at the sheets, your back arching to push yourself closer to him.

Jing Yuan chuckled, leaning down, his breath warm against your ear. “Good. Let it take over, kitten.” His pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, deeper, until the wet sounds of your pussy filled the room.

And then—oh. Oh, something felt different. Your body tensed, a sudden, overwhelming pressure building low in your belly. It made your toes curl, your tail fluff up, your ears flatten as you gasped. “Y-Yuan, ‘m—s-something—”

He noticed immediately, his movements slowing just a little, teasing. “Something what, hm?”

You whined, shaking your head. You didn’t know what was happening—you just knew it was too much. “C-Can’t—gonna—!”

The coil snapped.

Your whole body jerked as the pressure burst, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through you. Heat flooded your core, and suddenly, you were gushing, clear liquid dripping down your thighs, soaking his cock, the sheets, everything.

Jing Yuan stilled for a moment, watching with wide, golden eyes as you squirted around him, your pussy pulsing erratically. And then, he groaned, a deep, satisfied sound, before fucking you through it, making you ride out every wave of your pleasure. “Ah, my little kitten is full of surprises,” he mused, voice teasing yet utterly proud.

You were trembling, panting, your body still twitching as you turned your head, eyes hazy. Instinctively, you leaned up and dragged your tongue over his cheek, nuzzling into him, a soft, dazed purr rumbling from your chest. “Mm… Jing Yuan…”

His hand came up to pet your head, fingers running through your hair, soothing you even as he continued to thrust, chasing his own high. “So cute,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But don’t think we’re done just yet, little one. Now that I know you can do that…”

He smirked.

“You’ll do it again for me, won’t you?”

＠ ℳ𝒴𝒟ℰℐℳ𝒪𝒮！

Mydei had always loved breaking you down—loved watching the way your body trembled under his touch, how easily you melted when he took control. And right now, you were a mess beneath him, arms weak as you tried to keep yourself up, plush thighs spread wide, your ass pressed against his hips as he fucked you from behind.

“You’re dripping all over me, pretty,” he rasped, voice thick with amusement. His hands gripped your plush hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as he dragged you back onto his cock, making you take every inch. “This needy already?”

Your tail flicked, ears twitching at the teasing lilt in his voice. You were panting, your body bouncing with each rough thrust, the lewd squelch of your soaked pussy filling the air. Your nipples tingled, heavy tits swaying with every movement, and then—smack!

A sharp gasp tore from your lips as Mydei’s hand landed on your chest, slapping your tits without warning. The sting sent a jolt straight to your clit, and you clenched around his cock, whining.

“Oh?” His chuckle was smug, fingers pinching your hardened nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “You like that, don’t you?” Another slap to your tit, then another, your sensitive skin left tingling, burning with pleasure. “Look at you, dripping even more just from this.”

You buried your face into the sheets, moaning helplessly as he played with your tits, tugging at your nipples while he kept fucking you, each thrust pushing you further into mindless bliss. His other hand snaked down between your thighs, rough fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit, making your body jolt.

“F-Fuck—” Your voice was shaky, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your thighs quivered, that familiar, overwhelming pressure building deep in your core. You couldn’t hold it back—you couldn’t.

Mydei knew it, too. He could feel the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your breath hitched, body tensing like you were about to snap. “Go on,” he murmured, lips brushing against your ear. “Let go for me, kitty.”

And you did.

Your back arched, mouth falling open as the pressure burst, liquid gushing from your pussy, soaking his cock, his hand, the sheets. Your vision blurred, pleasure crashing through you in waves, your body trembling under the force of it.

Mydei groaned, watching with dark, hungry eyes as you squirted all over him, his fingers still working your clit, dragging out every last bit of your orgasm. “So fucking messy,” he muttered, smirking as he gave your ass a sharp slap. “You gonna do that for me again?”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was moving again, hips snapping forward, fucking you even harder.

“Good,” he murmured, voice full of wicked amusement. “I’m not done with you yet, kitty.”

Mydei didn’t give you time to recover. The moment your body slumped forward, spent and trembling from your orgasm, he yanked you back up, fingers tangling in your hair.

“Don't go all weak on me now, kitty,” he purred, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging, forcing your back to arch. The sting sent a shiver down your spine, making your pussy clench around his cock, still stuffed deep inside you. “You can take more, can't you?”

You whimpered, barely able to form words, but that wasn’t the answer he wanted. His grip tightened, pulling your head back further, exposing your throat to him. “Say it.”

“Y-Yeah…” you gasped, voice breathy, needy. “I can—ah! I can take it!”

He chuckled, pleased, and rewarded you by rolling his hips deeper, his cock pressing against that sweet spot that had you seeing stars. His free hand slid up your body, over the curve of your plush belly, before wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch.

The pressure was intoxicating. His fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, cutting off just enough air to make your head feel light, your body even more sensitive. The lack of oxygen made every thrust, every slap of his hips against your ass, ten times more intense. Your pussy clenched tighter around him, your thighs shaking as pleasure coiled deep inside you again.

“Mm, look at you,” Mydei murmured, his voice thick with amusement. His grip tightened just a little more, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You get even tighter when I do this—such a filthy little thing.”

Your body was on fire, heat pooling in your belly, your clit throbbing as his cock dragged against your sweet spot over and over again. You could barely breathe, barely think—your world had narrowed down to him, to the rough grip in your hair, the hand around your throat, the brutal pace of his thrusts.

And then his fingers dipped down to your clit again, rubbing rough, messy circles over the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight through you. Your moans were broken, choked, your body trembling uncontrollably as another orgasm rushed over you.

The moment the pressure burst, you gushed, a fresh wave of liquid squirting out of you, drenching his cock, the sheets, your thighs. Your body convulsed, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cried out, overwhelmed.

“Fuck,” Mydei groaned, his own pace stuttering as he watched you fall apart again, utterly ruined. He let go of your throat, letting you gasp for air, but his grip on your hair didn’t loosen. If anything, he pulled even —even harder, forcing your back to arch impossibly deep as he chased his own high.

“You just keep making a mess, huh?” Mydei groaned, his voice thick with lust, watching the way your body twitched from overstimulation. His cock was still buried inside you, stretching your dripping pussy as you clenched around him. His grip in your hair was relentless, keeping you exactly where he wanted you, while his free hand delivered a sharp slap to your ass. “So fucking greedy, squirting all over me like a desperate little thing.”

You could barely breathe, could barely think—your whole body was trembling, your thighs quivering from how hard he was fucking you. Your head spun from the mix of pain and pleasure, from the lingering pressure around your throat, from the way his cock dragged against your sweet spot with every brutal thrust.

Your moans were wrecked, broken, tears threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks. But Mydei wasn’t done yet. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “You’re not tapping out on me now, are you, kitty?”

You shook your head weakly, your voice coming out in a choked whimper. “N-No…”

“Good,” he murmured, his fingers slipping down to rub your swollen clit again, sending another sharp jolt of pleasure through you. “Then come for me one more time.

It wasn’t a request—it was an order. And your body obeyed, even as it burned from overstimulation. Your vision blurred, the pressure in your belly snapping again, your walls fluttering around him as another gush of slick dripped down your thighs.

“That's it,” Mydei groaned, his grip on your hair finally loosening as he slammed into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt. A deep growl tore from his throat as he came, filling you up with thick, hot spurts, his hips jerking against yours. He let out a satisfied sigh, his hands smoothing over your trembling body as he finally slowed.

You slumped forward, completely wrecked, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Mydei chuckled, trailing his fingers over your ass, down to your dripping cunt. “Messy thing,” he murmured, pushing his cum deeper with two fingers, making you whimper. “Hope you didn’t think we were done. I'm not letting you off that easy.”

Even as you trembled, spent and overstimulated, you knew you were in for a long night.

＠ 𝒫ℋ𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒪𝒩！

Phainon's hands gripped your plush thighs tightly, guiding you as you bounced on his cock. His sharp blue eyes were locked onto you, drinking in the way your tits jiggled with every movement, the way your soft stomach tensed when he thrust up into you.

“You look perfect like this,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. His hands pressed into your skin, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you who was in control. “Taking me so well, riding me like you were made for it.”

Your thighs burned, but the pleasure outweighed everything. His cock stretched you so deep, rubbing against that perfect spot with every bounce, sending electric jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your hands clutched his chest for support, fingers digging into the smooth, otherworldly skin as you whimpered.

Phainon groaned, tilting his head back as your walls fluttered around him, sucking him in greedily. “You're so fucking wet,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grab your tits, squeezing roughly before flicking your sensitive nipples. “Look at this—“ His other hand dipped between your thighs, fingers rubbing fast, messy circles on your clit.

A sharp cry left your lips, your body jerking at the overwhelming sensation. “P-Phai—!”

He smirked at your desperation, fingers never slowing. “You gonna come for me, pretty thing?” His hips snapped up, thrusting deeper just as he pinched your nipple, pushing you right over the edge.

Your body tensed, back arching as your orgasm crashed over you, your pussy clamping down around his cock. Your vision blurred, breath hitching as pleasure consumed you. But Phainon didn't stop—he kept fucking into you, riding out your high, dragging you into overstimulation.

“That's it,” he growled, watching as you trembled, your juices dripping down onto his thighs. “You're milking me so fucking good—” His grip on your hips tightened, holding you down as he thrust up one last time, burying himself deep inside.

A low groan rumbled from his chest as he came, filling you up with thick, hot spurts. His claws pressed into your skin as he held you there, making sure you took everything, making sure his cum stayed deep inside.

Your body slumped forward, completely spent, forehead resting against his shoulder as you panted. Phainon chuckled, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Not done yet, sweet thing,” he murmured, rolling his hips just enough to make you whimper. “You can give me another, can't you?”

Even as exhaustion weighed on you, you knew there was no escaping him—not when he still wanted more.

＠ ℳ𝒪𝒵ℰ！

Moze's hands were gentle as they rested on your hips, guiding you down on his cock slowly, making sure you were comfortable. His purple eyes stayed on you, calm but filled with something deeper, something hungry.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice soft but thick with desire. “Take your time, yeah?”

You nodded, breath shaky as you slowly sank all the way down, feeling his cock fill you up. It stretched you in all the right ways, and you could feel your pussy clenching around him, warm and tight.

“Feels s’ good,” you gasped, your hips lifting, starting to ride him, moving up and down at your own pace.

Moze groaned softly, his hands on your waist, guiding you just enough. “So tight, so perfect for me,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, as his purple eyes stared at you.

His movements were slow, controlled, making you feel every inch of him as he slid in and out. Your pussy tightened around him with each thrust, and you couldn’t help but moan louder, the pleasure building up inside you.

“Ah... Moze,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders as your pace picked up. “S’ good.”

Moze’s breath hitched as you started bouncing faster, his hands tightening on your hips. “You’re beautiful like this,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. His hands slid up to your chest, fingers brushing over your soft tits before gently squeezing. “Sensitive, huh?”

You whimpered, biting your lip as your body trembled. “Mm-hm,” you mumbled, not able to form much more than that. The pressure in your stomach was building fast.

Moze let out a low growl, his cock pushing deeper, his thrusts getting a little harder, a little more urgent. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go for me.”

And that’s when it hit—your body clenched tightly around him, and you squirted, liquid rushing out of you as your walls spasmed. You cried out, your back arching as the orgasm washed over you.

Moze's eyes widened, shocked by how you gushed all over him. “Fuck, sweetheart...” He panted, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “You— you did that for me?”

His thrusts slowed, but his hands were still tight on your waist, making sure he stayed buried deep inside as he let you ride out the aftershocks.

You nodded, breathless and flushed. “Y-Yeah... all for you.”

Moze chuckled softly, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, pulling you close. “You’re amazing.”

His gentle touch made your heart race, and you melted into his arms, your body still trembling from the aftereffects. Moze kissed your forehead, holding you close, his hands soothing as he waited for you to recover.

Moze held you close, his gentle touch still grounding you as the aftershocks of your orgasm faded. You were still panting, your breath coming out in soft, shaky bursts, but the feeling of his arms around you, holding you tight, calmed the storm inside you.

“You're okay, sweetheart,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his voice soothing. "You did so well.” he smiled softly, while gently scratching your fluffy ears.

You nodded, still too dazed to form many words, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. He was proud of you, and you were feeling that warmth inside you, deep down.

“Moze...” you murmured, lifting your head slightly to look at him. “I— I didn't know I could... do that.” You were still catching your breath, but there was a hint of embarrassment in your voice.

He smiled softly, his hand caressing your cheek. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. Never be embarrassed. You made me proud, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His fingers trailed down to your collarbone, slowly making their way to your chest, his touch so gentle, so tender.

You melted into his touch, feeling his warmth seep into you. It was calming, reassuring. Moze had a way of making you feel safe, loved, as if everything was okay. Even after everything, even after the intensity, he was right there, still gentle, still caring.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, his voice low, but not pressuring. “I don’t wanna rush you, but if you’re ready... I can take care of you some more.”

You nodded, your confidence returning slowly, your hands now gripping his shoulders as you looked down at him. “Yeah, I want to... I want you.”

Moze chuckled softly, his hands moving back to your hips, guiding you gently as he helped you lift up before slowly lowering you back down onto him, taking his time to make sure everything felt just right. His cock slid in easily, the mix of his cum and your wetness making it feel even more intense.

“You're so good to me,” you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with need as you started moving again, the pleasure slowly building up again. “I... I want more.”

Moze groaned, his hands firmly on your hips, but his movements were controlled, never forcing, just helping you find your rhythm as you rode him. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on you, taking in every move, every twitch, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. “Let go, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

With every thrust, every motion, the pleasure grew again, and you couldn’t stop yourself. It was like you were on fire, your body craving more, wanting to feel everything.

And when you came again, your body trembled, your voice breaking as you gasped, Moze groaned in response, his grip tightening as he let out a low, satisfied growl, filling you once more.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered against your skin, his lips brushing over your shoulder. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. I love you.”

You smiled softly, your body still humming from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “I love you too, Moze.”

You stayed in each other’s arms for a long time after, savoring the quiet intimacy, the connection that felt like it could last forever.

＠ 𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒟𝒜𝒴！

Your face was hot, burning from the mix of pleasure and humiliation, but Sunday didn’t care. He never did. The way he handled you—like you were nothing more than a desperate, needy thing beneath him—only made the coil in your stomach tighten.

“Such a filthy little kitten,” he sneered, one hand tangled in your curls, yanking your head back so you couldn’t escape his gaze. His other hand cracked down against your ass, making you jolt, a whimper breaking past your swollen lips. “Think you deserve to be treated nice? After making all these messes on me?”

You barely had the chance to answer before he spanked you again, harder this time, the sting spreading through your body in sharp, electric pulses. Your tail flicked wildly, ears twitching as you squirmed beneath him.

“P-please,” you gasped, voice breaking as another hit landed.

Sunday only chuckled, deep and cruel, his gloved fingers trailing down to where you were soaked, dripping against him. He tsked. “Begging like you got any right to. You’re already so ruined, kitten. Just look at you.”

You couldn’t. Your head was spinning, body trembling from the way he forced you down, made you take every ruthless movement, every sharp pull and teasing squeeze against your throat. His grip tightened just enough to steal your breath, his lips ghosting over your ear. His cock thrusting deep into your pussy.

“What is it, huh?” he murmured, mockingly sweet. “Is it too much? Or do you like being used like this?”

You barely managed a whine, but something about the way he touched you, the way he bullied your body into submission, your walls clenching around his thick cock, had you unraveling faster than ever before. The pressure inside you coiled unbearably tight, different from any other time—hotter, messier, overwhelming.

“S-Sunday,” you gasped, your fingers clawing at the sheets, your hips stuttering as a wave of heat built impossibly high. “S’ somethin’—feels—”

Sunday clicked his tongue, unimpressed. “Use your words, kitten.”

“C-can’t,” you slurred, barely able to think. “‘S too much—!”

And then it snapped.

The pleasure crashed into you, ripping through your body like a live wire. Your vision blurred as a helpless cry spilled from your lips, and before you could even process it, you were gushing, soaking everything beneath you. It was messy, uncontrollable, unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Sunday froze. Just for a second. Then his sharp, breathy laughter filled the air, laced with something dark and thrilled.

“Well, well,” he mused, his grip on your hair tightening as he forced you to face the soaked sheets beneath you. “Didn’t know my little pet could do that.” His free hand slid down, fingers swiping through the evidence of your shame before delivering another sharp slap against your ass, making you yelp. “You’re so fucking desperate, you don’t even know what your own body can do, huh?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, your body still trembling, too overstimulated to think straight. You tried to bury your face in the sheets, but Sunday wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh. No hiding from me now,” he growled, his palm cracking against your skin once more, sending another jolt of pleasure straight through your core. “You made a mess, kitten. You better get ready to clean it up.”

You were still shaking, thighs twitching from the aftershocks, but Sunday didn’t let up. If anything, your mess only seemed to amuse him more.

“Didn’t even know you could do that, huh?” he taunted, fingers trailing down to press against the soaked sheets beneath you before dragging them back up along your trembling thighs. “Poor, dumb kitten. What, did you think I’d let you off easy just ‘cause you made a mess?”

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pushing you back down, forcing your body to take everything he gave you. His cock throbbed against you, still buried deep, still relentless as he picked up his pace again, making you jolt with every sharp movement.

“N-no—can’t—” you whimpered, but Sunday only laughed, his grip tightening around your throat as he shoved your face into the soaked sheets.

“Don’t tell me you’re already givin’ up,” he mocked, voice dripping with condescension. “You wanted this, didn’t you? So take it.”

A choked gasp was all you managed, your body burning from the overstimulation, every nerve alight with the lingering aftershocks of what he’d forced out of you. It was too much—too sensitive—but Sunday didn’t care. He grinned at the way your body trembled, at the way you tried and failed to push against his grip.

“Look at you,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “So fuckin’ desperate. So messy. You really are just my stupid little pet, huh?”

His hand slid down, past your stomach, fingers toying with your sensitive clit in cruel little circles, sending another helpless shudder through your body. You sobbed against the sheets, hips jerking involuntarily as the sensation sent another wave of unbearable heat through you.

Sunday only smirked. “What’s wrong? Too much for you?” His hips snapped forward, making you cry out. “Too bad, kitten. We’re not done until I say we are.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[tumble-tv]

ICE raids are happening.

Any immigrants, no matter how long you have been a citizen of the USA, is at risk of being deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. Raids starting in Chicago, Illinois. and spreading to other major cities with high POC and Hispanic populations. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) have started raiding homes and families in California.

There are no "protected locations" as of January 21, 2025. Hospitals, schools, and churches are all at risk of being raided, where before these places were deemed safe and off limits to raids.

When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:

Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)

Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)

Both hands in pockets

Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward

Sweatshirts with the hood up

Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)

Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)

Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)

Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)

Overly friendly

Overly inquisitive

“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions

Don’t fit in

Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)

DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE

YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY

COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER

COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU

SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS

For protesting:

N95 masks

Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one

Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.) Use for flushing wounds, flushing eyes of tear gas, and of course drinking.

Snacks! You'll be doing a lot of walking and/or running and need to keep that energy up. Trail mix, dried fruit, nuts, granola bars, crackers, jerky/meat sticks, fruit snacks, candy, etc. Think of it like packing your lunchbox for a field trip.

Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)

Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)

If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake/temporary tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?

Wigs fall under the same category as tattoos. The person they're claiming to be you has a blonde bob and you have green hair past your shoulders.It also makes it possible to go with a completely different color without the use of hair dye. This means if they try to arrest you later and try to prove it was you by taking your hair and testing for dye, it won't come back the way they hope. (Thank you @violetrosepetals for this addition!)

Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt. Balaclavas are also a good choice, as they cover both your face and hair.

Power bank

Chargers

Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage, but tactical is also good

Hand sanitizer

Gloves with hard knuckles (tactical gloves). These pack a good punch even if you don't have the correct form. Don't have those? Wrist guards for roller skating/skateboarding work kinda like that too. More of a slapping motion, but still hurt like a bitch. Extra points if they're all scuffed up from use and falls.

Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything.

Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)

Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds

FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)

Good shoes. Boots and sneakers are your best choices. Not heels, not platforms, not sandals. Good boots or shoes that won't come off your feet too easily when you run. Steel toed shoes are a great option. Your toes won't be squashed, but also it'll hurt someone a lot more if you start kicking.

Spare socks. Trust me. You can use them to stop bleeding if it comes to it, but also you can put rocks in there and boom weapon. Also if the socks you're wearing get wet.

As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Black and baggy is best.

Photocopy of your ID, not your real one.

Sunscreen!

Make sure your clothes have pockets, even if you have a bag. You want everything to be easily accessible.

Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind. If you have overly unique or identifiable frames, goggles are your friend here. Get some goggles that will fit over your frames, preferably ones that are tinted.

If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Wrap it up. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.

If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains. Except maybe a pride flag so people know which team you're playing on.

Scarf or keffiyeh if you have one. They have many uses!

Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.

Pocket knife.

Pepper spray/mace/bear spray

if you get tear gassed, shake around first before using water. Most tear gas is more of a powder and water has a high likelihood of just spreading it around. (Thank you @actually-a-bread-loaf for this addition!)

Tennis rackets also work wonderfully for chucking tear gas canisters back at those throwing them. Anybody asks, you're going out to play tennis with friends later. Baseball bats also work! (Thank you @azul-nova-24 for this addition!)

Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.

IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME

IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD

COPS CAN FORCE YOU TO OPEN YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT OR FACE ID

MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE

If you see a potential or active raid, take pictures and note the time and location. Post online if you can, as well.

You have the right to remain silent. State that you wish to remain silent. Avoid giving information about anybody's immigration status. You have the right to refuse to sign anything before speaking to an attorney. You have the right to refuse searches of your car, your home, and yourself. Schools do not collect a child's immigration status.

I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not a white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.

Even if you're not currently protesting, it's good to know this just in case. Things are happening very quickly, and there is a very high chance of it changing very quickly within the next four years.

Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.

If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Even just reposting information helps.

This is an updated version of this post,

Updated January 27, 2025.

[hoshigray]

˙⋆✮ FIRST PERSON SQUIRTER.ᐣ.ᐟ ✮⋆˙ | jjk men

꩜ᯅ꩜ choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna & toji × how they deal with a squirter!?

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences (true form! kuna) - kissing/making out - thigh-riding - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - sqůirtǐng (ofc) - facesitting - Daddy kink - 69 + doggy style + full nelson positions - overstimulation - clitoral play (grinding + swiping + pinching) - praising - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, cutiepie, good girl, little thing, etc.) - degradation + humiliation - mention of blood and drool/spit.

word count: 5.3k

a. note: goin on a trip next week, so i leave y'all with this until the next one ☆ enjoy !!

ᯓ꩜ Chōsō Kamo

You giggled. “You ready, baby?”

He smiles back. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

Having a partner willing to try new things with you is undoubtedly a blessing. Wouldn’t you want to try anything and everything with your partner—learning new things and sharing experiences with the person you love and cherish the most in this globe? 

It adds to your trust in one another – an exchange enhances the companionship…even if it’s in the bedroom!

“Okay, Choso, get ready.”

Your boyfriend nods from below you, watching from between your thighs as you descend your lower half where his face is, and the two of you moan once the lips of your labia land on his awaiting tongue.

This was all your idea, by the way: you’re the one who pulled on Choso’s shirt as you two watched the television from his bed, his caramel eyes drifting to you after grabbing his attention. It was difficult to ask at first, stumbling with your words as this embarrassing request isn’t something you make regularly. Once you got your words out, it wasn’t surprising to see your boyfriend a little flustered as you were. 

However, that didn’t stop him from accepting it – albeit bashfully – confidently, igniting a colossal quirk of happiness to affect the glow of his bedroom. So, here you two are, putting this new experience to the test. 

“Mmmm, oh God,” you purr with chewed lips, fighting the urge to swing your hips as Choso mouths you. 

Choso has his hips on your waist to keep you steady as he does his work, using his lips and tongue to please you in this new position. His tongue swims around your inner labia, the folds coated with your wetness mixed with his saliva. You exhale through your nostrils, your thighs sluggishly move to have your man attend to the surface, and you mewl at the flick of your clitoris. Oh shiiit…!

Having you on top of him like this was not something the brunet expected, thinking this would be a lazy day to hang out with his cute companion on this slow Friday. However, to have easy access to taste your fluids within his vicinity in this erotic position...he’s starting to like it a little too much. 

“Ohhh, my God, Choso,” you shrill with a gasp. “You’re so good…Feel so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He questions below your waist, poking your clit with his tongue. “You like riding my face?” 

He can’t see it, but you nod impetuously. “Yessss! Yees—Shhaaah! Fuck, your tongue…!” You lick your lips and bite as you bring your waist lower, his nose bumping on your clit. “More, give me moreee…!”

“Heh, sure thing,” he titters at your enthusiasm as his hands curl to your buttocks, bringing you further down to his level. You whimper as he sucks on your vulva with purpose, lapping his tongue around to tease your entrance before he pushes it in. Here is where Choso changes the atmosphere, fucking you with his tongue and collecting more of your essence to drink. All you can do is wail and swing your hips faster, and your boyfriend quickly catches the rhythm. Shit, tastes so good…!

“Uhhgg, feels so fucking good—Mmmaa!” Holy hell, this was too much! There’s so much going on underneath you outside your control, only having the command of your waist to influence. Your thighs jiggle as you resort to bouncing on your boyfriend’s face, and your hands ball on the comforter the two of you lay on. 

Choso’s tongue goes frantic, wiggling the wet muscle around your insides and pulling you in to sink more into your overwhelming taste and smell. The more you bounce on his face, the more his nose hits your clitoris, your bud sending shocks up to your head to enlighten the exhilaration! Faster and faster you go, the same for the tongue lapping all over your vulva and sucking on you purposely. 

“Choso..!! Cho—shiiiit—Chosooo!!” You cry out with trenched brows and closed eyes, electric shocks spiraling all over your body with all the growing pressure. 

Your body then gives in, and you let your essence out of your system. Your fluids shower all over Choso’s face as you come on his tongue; your boyfriend is not swayed by the liquid hitting his face, just focused on slurping your wetness covering your cunt. Quivers force your thighs to jolt, jerking your whole frame as you let the waves of your orgasm hit until everything relaxes.

And when it does, you sigh heavily and lift your ass. Choso watches the sight before him, his spit blended with your come all within your inner thighs. The heat from his face spreads to his ears — oh, he hopes he doesn’t get addicted to this.

“Oh my God, Choso,” your boyfriend snaps to your call. “Your face, it’s all wet!”

“Hm? Oh!” It takes a second to realize that he is utterly drenched with your satisfaction, scoffing with a smile. “Guess we both got a bit too excited.”

You chuckle as you leave to grab a hand towel from his bathroom. “I’m sorry about that!”

“It’s okay,” Choso takes off his shirt, which was damp on his collar, and accepts the towel you give him. “As long as you’re feeling good up there, I don’t mind drowning a bit for you, sweetie.”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re not funny.”

ᯓ꩜ Nanami Kento

Nothing puts the cherry on top of a hard day at work for Nanami than coming home and being pulled into your arms.

“Nnnmm, Kento, you feel so good…”

…And loving on him more affectionately.

You practically dragged your man into the living room, peppering him with smooches in your glee that he had returned home safe and sound, and he chortles as you beckon him to sit on the couch with you. The two of you winding down while watching the television, Nanami relaxing with a nice cold beer and taking off his necktie and blazer.

However, he’s unaware of you glimpsing through your peripheral, looking intently, sliding his tie off his collar and unbuttoning his shirt. You notice the sneak of his exposed collarbone, drifting your gaze to something else only for it to land on his pants. Lips flatten at the sight of his thighs; his hand patting on it makes you stare longer than intended, swallowing thickly to quench a dry throat. 

He was taking a swig of his beer, watching the motion of his Adam’s apple with intent. Your fingers fiddling with the bottom of your sundress can’t jurisdiction your thoughts anymore, wanton desires stacking up and soon to fall like dominoes. 

And when it does fall, you silently stand and walk in front of Nanami, the blonde noticing you come around to obstruct his view of the TV. “My love?” You don’t answer. “Something’s wrong?” No words yet…but you lift your dress, mocha eyes pinpointing to the cute design of your cotton thong. “Sweetheart…” you move to sit again, but not back on the couch—nope—instead, his pant-clad thigh, straddling the firm muscles, and your arms come around to cup his cheeks.

“Kento,” you finally speak, whispering for only his words to pick up. “I missed you.”

If there was one thing that could pull Nanami’s heartstrings, it was you – his pretty wife. So, when you express your love for him, of course, he has to reciprocate tenfold.

“Ooooo, yesss, Ken…please, go faster…Mmmph.”

You stay atop Nanami’s thigh, grinding your labia on his pants to the point that a damp spot is prominent in the tan color. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he’s the one who slid your thong for his fore and middle finger to swipe on your clitoris. The touch is pleasant, fueling your waist to keep moving. With your back to his chest, he kisses you passionately from behind. Your sweet tongue meets his, influenced by the taste of alcohol, a strange combination that surprisingly gets the kiss steamier. 

Nanami chews on your bottom lip, having you whimper so sublimely that shivers crawl his spine, sucking on your tongue as your hips go faster. Jesus Christ, the friction from grinding on the material of his pants feels so good, nestling in between your folds nicely and faintly bumping on your clit. However, that is for your husband’s fingers, tweaking the bud you perk to your tippy toes. Hahhh, so good!

“Mmmm, shit,” the golden-haired man curses under his breath before taking your lips into his again. “Come here, angel.” He slams his lips to yours, and you don’t plan to leave his taste as you throw your head back. One arm lifts your legs by the knees, the free hand having more access for him to stick his middle finger into your wetness.

You moan into his mouth, allowing your husband to please you with his fingers rubbing your inner texture. It starts slow until he adds the ring finger, dialing the pace for his fingertips to scratch onto places you could never reach. A hand finds his hair, his neat locks now getting disheveled because of you. 

“Puhaah, ohhh, shit!” You shrill with puffy lips while Nanami kisses your cheek and chin, all the while his digits are brushing up on the upper wall of your vagina — you almost lose balance. “I’m close…!”

The magic words let Nanami know to keep doing what he’s doing, sucking the skin of your neck while shoving his fingers until his very knuckles. The clamp of your walls is sensational, addicting to the point that he doesn’t want to get his digits out yet — not until your high comes to an end.

And that doesn’t sound impossible; you scream as if you don’t have neighbors between your apartment, a watery liquid ejecting out of your glands and showering all around. Sprinkles of your clear juices hit the palm of Nanami’s hand and thigh, adding more stains to his pants to worry about.

 Your heaving body slowly relaxes as your orgasm rattles your bones, Nanami laying more pecs on your beautiful skin as he permits your quaking legs to touch the floor again. Yet, you jerk when your toes feel something wet, snapping out of your daze and realizing what a show you made.

“O-Oh, my—“ you try to stand, but Nanami’s quick to catch you as your body is still under the shocks of your crescendo. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kento, I messed up your work clothes.”

“No worries, I need to do laundry tomorrow anyway.” The blonde chuckles to your ear and kisses you again, massaging your waist. 

“In that case…would you mind if I dirty your clothes some more?” Your butt presses up on the tent of his groin — which has been getting firmer and firmer once the man stuffed his fingers in you. “I’m sure you’d get some fun out of it.”

He raises a sandy brow with a smile. “Would I, or would you, since you’re the one who came onto me?”

“…A bit of both.” You both share a laugh as Nanami carries you bridally to the bedroom.

“Then I don’t mind at all.”

ᯓ꩜ Gojō Satoru

“Mmmm, can never get over this view~.”

“Can you stop commenting about it?!”

“Whaaat? I can’t say I admire my cutie’s beautiful ass in front of me?”

“You’re so annoying…” you grumble as you sigh and begin to lick the tip of his cock.

It’s been a while since you and Gojo had a good 69 session. He is busy being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era and being a full-time teacher, and you go through your day-to-day life swarmed up with work and routine. Lack of time to spend together is an onerous task to execute outside of sleeping and snoring in your shared bed.

But alas, when you two are finally resting and enjoying each other’s company this weekend, it’s a no-brainer that you two will end up skin-to-skin action sometime today. 

You straddled atop Gojo, your ass facing him while his lower half was to your front, your hand stroking his length cock, following the curve up to the pink tippy top. The sight of precum starting to pool and spill over down your fingertips makes your cheeks hot, and the heat between your legs causes a twitch.

Gojo, however, grins before he kisses your labia, welcoming his tongue that invades the space between your folds. You moan as you stuff your mouth with his cockhead, treating him with peppered licks and sucks as you keep jerking him off. Fucking hell, his dick is just so lengthy, hitting the back of your throat with ease that you have to remind yourself to relax to not gag.

Lazy licks are dawned on your wet chasm, lapping from the clit up to the other end. He notices the subtle quakes of your thighs as he tongues you down and has him chuckle as he pushes his face into your frame more, his hands curling to cup your ass so he can fondle the flesh.

You mumble on his dick after he flicks your clit. “Mmmph…! Hmmmm…” Sucking on his shaft, you bob your head up and down to get accustomed to the limb. Climbing back up to the tip where you suck on it roughly with hallowed cheeks after drizzling it with saliva. 

“Oh shiiit,” the white-haired man’s head hits the headboard of his bed, moaning at the attention you’re giving his cock. “So good at this, angel,” he coos as his hands curl to the front to massage and lightly pat your asscheeks like drums. “Missed this.”

“Mmmm, mmmahh…!” The tip leaves your lips, and you’re quick to keep stroking him as you lick around his crown. “Fuck, so big…”

“Well, thank you, baby,” he knows you’re probably rolling your eyes at that comment, chortling to himself. “Means a lot hearing that from someone who keeps winking at me over here.”

“Pfft, you’re so gross,” you top his cockhead to the flat of your tongue, blowing on it to make your tall partner shiver under you. “So full of yourself.”

“Mmmm, maybe so,” you whine as Gojo blows and sucks on your inner labia. “But you can’t blame me for that, right?”

“What…ever,” your feet come around and pulls his face back to your ass. “Just shut up and use that tongue—since you’re so confident.”

“Heh, so pushy.” But the thing is, Gojo is confident – narcissistically so. You saying that only probed him to flip a switch, and you’re unfortunately on the receiving end of his wrath. 

Gojo’s tongue goes erratic, swishing around your vulva as if you can’t keep up with one lap after the other. Your waist goes to lift your ass away — fat chance, as his hands return behind your butt to keep you on him the entire time. The vibrations of his humorful laugh are felt in the very nerves of your folds.

You whimper aloud, the hand jerking his cock, straying off its rhythm as your body submits to the pleasure going around your lower half. He inserts his tongue into your opening, fucking your slit with pushes and pulls. He sucks your wetness with his mouth, and the hands placed on your ass grip on the flesh that has you standing on your very palms.

“—Khhh..! W-Wait, Satoruu, stop!” You cry, but the tall man only smacks your ass mischievously, having you clamping on his tongue without your conscience. “I-I said waaait!!” No signs of waiting as he stuffs his face further between your thighs; noises of him slurping your vulva sound so wrong!

Oh, my fucking God! Your legs tremble, a sign that you’re trying everything you can to alleviate. However, Gojo’s grip on you doesn’t make it an easy battle, latching onto you with vigor. No, wait, wait, stop i—“Ahaa—ahhhnn!!”

It’s no use; the fluid you release slips past your control, spraying out of the urethra and showering all over your thighs and Gojo’s lower jaw and neck. Your body yields, losing balance and slumping your whole body on top of your boyfriend as you come on his tongue and drizzle all around the space of your lower half. Shocks and quivers travel up your spine to your head to pound, leaving Gojo to keep lapping and swishing on your wet slit in victory. 

“Mmmm, aahhhshit, so good…!” He blinks with hooded eyes as he licks his lips and spits on your vagina to lick slowly. “Taste so good…”

“Hahhh, ahhh, I..I told you to,” you stand on your elbows and look behind. “To…wait, dummy!”

“You told me to shut and use my tongue!” He backfires, not relenting even after sending your half-lidded glare. You groan and turn back to suck on his pink tip in defeat. “Fuck, love it when you’re all wet like this…and lucky me for being in the splash zone as you—Oww!”

You smack on his nuts. “You’re so annoying!”

ᯓ꩜ Getō Suguru

“Suguruuu…! Don’t do th–Ahhht!”

“Ahhhh, you sound so cute, baby.”

Geto plows you from behind, watching you grip the armrest of the couch as your butt is propped up and your face buried to hide yourself…Quite a futile attempt, if he says so himself, but adorable nonetheless. 

Fucking in the living room wasn’t part of the daily routine today, yet here you two are. His hands grab hold of your waist as he conceals his girthy cock inside your tight cunt, stuffing every inch of him till the very hilt meets the lips of your outer lips. 

Your breath is shaky as Geto’s hips move to and fro, sighing at the sensation of your tensed walls around him. You always felt way too fucking good, biting his lip to fight the urge to let his waist fly and piston himself right into you. And he enjoys the way you act as he teases you, the position giving him ideas on how to torment you idly. 

Like now, as he skims a thumb around your asshole. The action of having you contract on him even more. “Nnnn! Nnooooh, don’t play with my ass…!”

“You sure? It’s been winking at me for a minute.” He chimes with a sly smile, licking his finger and switching his thumb to lather your hole with his saliva. Holy shit, the way you’re twitching around him is driving him nuts, as he hasn’t even put anything in yet. 

“Do-Don’t say it like that!” You peer over your shoulder with furrowed brows, meeting the purple eyes that catch you. His hips go excruciatingly slow, your vagina feeling like a void as he pulls for absence before fulling you back as he pushes. “It’s em…barrassin—Ghhhh!”

He pushes the thumb inside while you’re distracted, and both your holes pucker in haste. “Awww, don’t be like that, my love,” his mellow voice doesn’t match the crudeness of his actions, throwing unpredictable snaps of his hips to throw you off. “Nothing about your body is embarrassing….God, your ass looks so sexy from the back—“

Another twitch of your slit—God, you’re too fucking cute. “What are you—Don’t say stuff like that…!” Your flustered reaction didn’t make it any better as Geto pushed his thumb inside until the dent and knuckle, wiggling it inside and pushing and pulling to toy with your rear. Your teeth clench onto the couch pillow while he increases the cadence of his ruts. “Mmmmm, ohmyGod…Suguu, please—“

“Hmm, you want me to stop?” He asks and observes for a cue to stop what he’s doing. You don’t say anything, though, just your hips swaying. It makes Geto scoff, “I get the feeling you don’t want me to; look at you moving your hips on your own, pumpkin. Your body’s so honest for me.”

“Haaahh, you’re soo…mean, Sugu…”

“Only when I know it makes you feel good,” he moves his bangs out for a bit. “Which is why,” then Geto slithers that same hand down to where your chasm is linked to his wet cock, and his fingers go erratically fast on your clit. “I wanna tease this a bit, too.”

Eyes widen as you shriek at the touch, moaning aloud once he removes his thumb from your ass to keep your butt onto him as he jackhammers his cock into you. Your frame is propelled with every push, the pokes on of your cervix knock you out like the wind, and the hard rubs on your clit have you seeing stars.

“—Ohhooo, oh–hoooo!! Sug’ruuu, waaiitt!!” It’s useless; he doesn’t stop, and more hits to your womb have you wailing uncontrollably. The fingers on your clit don’t let you rest, having you unable to speak a proper sentence and resort to letting your boyfriend pound into you. A few more pinches have your legs jerking, and you can’t help but let the wave smash onto you.

As your orgasm claims over your body, you squirt out, liquids falling onto the couch beneath you, point blank. Your eyes are sewn shut as your slit flutters on Geto’s penis, your substance leaking out of your glans and dirtying your thighs and legs. Oh God, no!!

Geto hisses at the feeling of you spasming on him, tilting his head to see what you’ve done. “Oh my, would’ya look at that~.”

“Shooop, don’t loook…!!” A hand moves to the side to “try” and stop him, but he catches it with his palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t look at iiiit…”

“But you did so well!” Geto kisses your hand. “Maybe I should play with your ass more—“

“Suguru, stop!”

“Kidding~,” he was not.

ᯓ꩜ Ryōmen Sukuna

Sukuna relishes the feeling of you like this — your back to his front, your legs held up by his solid upper arms while the lower hands hold your buttocks, and your holes accommodating to his two girthy cocks — like the good pet you are. 

He entirely suspends you, your entire frame contorted for your arms to grip the futon sheets below. Sweat and warmth are exchanged by bare skin, the glow of the candles highlights the unioned figures within Sukuna’s quarters, and your anus and vagina are full of nothing but the two cocks stretching you and rubbing your insides.

Sukuna bucks his hips with might, and his every push makes you dizzy. Toes curl as your ass is pulled up and down to meet his hefty balls, his dicks venturing further to torture your insides with satisfaction. Your vision gets a bit hazy as the heat gets to your head, and your head begins to pound.

“What’s wrong, little thing,” your lips flatten to hinder the moan wanting to escape as he speaks behind you, feeling his breath brush the hairs of your back. “You’re silent this time around.”

“Haaaah, my Lord…” The tongue of his stomach licks your lower back with a lazy kiss. “Y-You’re…too biiig.”

He hits you with a sudden rut and purrs at the clench of your entrances. “You say that, yet your lewd body seems to accustom pretty well.” Another hit of his hips causes the tips of his cock to brush up against your sweet spots effortlessly, and you finally unclench your lips to let a wail escape. “Your body only good for taking cocks like a real good whore, huh?”

“I’m so—Mmmph…! S-Shooo fuuuull…” 

“No, you’re not,” he snickers as his lower left-hand sneaks around to cusp your clitoris, your precious pearl engulfed by the sheer thickness of his digits. “Not until I fill you with my seed like a sow in heat.”

The salmon-haired man picks up the pace to drill his cocks, churning your vagina and rear like toys. Your cries fly out quickly at the point, puffy lips losing ground to stay locked. Hands balled into fists as you’re threatened by the sheer mass of Sukuna, unable to fight out of this—forced to submit to him and his persistence.

Your slit and butt are so busy with his cocks, the length of your vagina grazing your G-spot by its underside, the walls fluttering involuntarily around him. The dick inside your butt feels so utterly good; the size of him is never something you can get fully habituated to. And the hand on your clit doesn’t stop playing with it, roughly pushing and grinding on it to the point of babbling and choking on spit. 

“—Hnnngh, fuck. So tight,” Sukuna licks your back and nibbles on your skin, teasing to tear your skin to taste just a hint of blood. “Feel so good…”

“Ahahhh, I caaan’t…!” Your eyes begin to water as you shut them close, lack of vision enhancing the sense of touch where it has your nerves overly stimulated. Everything is happening all at once, and you can sense the climb once the tip hits your womb. “I can’t do iiit! You’re gonna break meee!!”

“Keheh, wouldn’t be the first time.” It’s probably for the best because you can’t see the smug-ass grin on his oddly comely face. More kisses are placed on your back. “Shut up and take it, dove,” he commands you, not leaving you any room to retaliate as his thrusts increase without warning. 

Your mouth is agape, and your cries are unwillingly bouncing around the shoji-paneled walls. A bit of spit comes down your lips, your hands only finding Sukuna’s waist for your nails to dig into. The grumble of his stomach traversing to your core to rumble with the vibrations. Oh, God, noo!! You can feel it – the worse of the worse. Just when you thought your humiliation wasn’t enough at this moment, it was about to skyrocket in three…two…one.

Feverish ruts to your ass, have the reins slip out of your hold, all the restraint in your body withering with every harsh push and pull. Your head pounds like crazy, nothing but a blur can be seen in your eyes, and the clear substance expels out of your urethra, leaving out of your system along with your dignity. 

And Sukuna doesn’t have to see it to believe it, grinning from ear to ear as he playfully smacks on your vulva to create more of a mess. The watered-down liquid sprayed out to his thighs and the futon sheets and sticking to your inner thighs and sliding down the crack of your ass. Tiny pinches to your clit help you jerk out more to ruin yourself, your body losing strength entirely and letting the cursed man keep you in your distorted position. 

“Hmph, what a bad little toy,” he criticizes you like always, the tears beckoning to leave your watery eyes. “Look at you causing a mess on my bedding; who told you to do that?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Sukuna,” your expression borderline fucked out, yet the embarrassment keeps you humble. “Forgive me…my Lord.”

Sukuna slaps onto your clit with his palm; you pucker onto his girths immediately. “You dare ask for forgiveness after the fact—I should just throw you out in the cold with these wet sheets you’ve caused.”

“N-Nooo! I’m so sorry!!” Fuck, he loves it when you plead, so desperate for his word, his submissive and breakable dove. “Pleaseee, fill me up with your seed, and I will clean it up…! I-I won’t do it again…”

“Says who?” He finally lets your legs go briefly before he spreads them over with his lower arms. His upper hands find your chest to grope. “You’ve stained my sheets with your essence; you aren’t sleeping anywhere else tonight except here with me in this exact puddle you made for yourself, you dirty pet. Am I clear?”

His final words have your skin crawl as he nibbles on your nape, and you nod.

“Good.”

ᯓ꩜ Fushiguro Tōji

“Gahhh!! Ahhhhh!!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s it; keep clenchin’.”

Toji’s fingers are stuffed inside you, stretching your poor hole with pushes and pulls that take your breath away with ease—quite literally as your arms come around his neck to keep him close.

His bedroom is filled with nothing but you: your shorts and panties decorating his bedroom floor, the smell of your lotion on your now-sweaty skin intoxicating his senses, and your damp towel laid underneath you as you lie on your back.

Toji sits right beside you, near as you keep him from leaving. Not that he planned to — of course not. When he has his ring and middle finger shoved inside your vagina and grazing your inner skin with a mediocre pace, there’s no way the older man would want to stop now. Fuck, he loved how tight your cunt was, so snug to the touch and tender to his fingertips. It drove him crazy, just like you always make him. He can never get tired of you, honestly. 

“Hahhhh, Tojiii, ahhaaa…” Your whimpers get louder and louder by the second, and your back jerks to the blunt of his fingertips, poking deep inside your chasm. “Gooohh, ohhhshit…!”

“Yeah, sweetie?” His forehead touches yours, skin-on-skin increasing intimacy. “Ya like it when I fuck you wit’ my fingers, huh?” You answer with a whine as he slows his digits down, teasing the walls of your entrance while pressing on your clit with his thumb. He scoffs, “So nice and tight fr’ me, huh…”

“Ahhhh..! Bu–But I just…finished taking a showerrr!!” You wail with pleading hooded eyes that are instantly locked with intense viridian ones. “You’re making me—mmm!—dirty again…!”

He raises a brow. “That doesn’t mean anythin’ to me,” more push to your clitoris causes your body to jolt closer to Toji, and he sneers. “Getting all ready and clean fr’ me, what a good girl…all the more fun fr’ Daddy to make ya all dirty and cryin’ all over again.”

A hand grips his shoulder, exposed by his black wife-beater. “Pleasee, Daddy, it’s too—Aghahh!” He sneaks his fingers back inside knuckle-deep; the deep chuckle you hear from him causes your ears to melt. 

“C’mon, mama, I know you have it in ya,” he coos with a kiss to your forehead that has you dissolve under his scarred lips. “Wring my fingers up, make a mess fr’ me.”

Another kiss to your forehead makes you whine, the gentle atmosphere only lasting for mere seconds before the pace of his hand returns to a rhythm that has you screaming instantly. Jesus Christ, those thick fingers are no joke, the stretch enough to overwhelm your senses, along with how deep they reach inside. 

Every push to your cunt has you breathless, and every dig is knuckles-deep and too fast to catch up with one after the other. “Ohoooo, D-Daddyyy, n-nooo!” Yet there’s no point in begging now—once Toji is deadset on something, it’s challenging to swade him off. Especially when it comes to you, his little sweet thing… “I’m gonna—ohfuuck!—I’m so clooose…!”

Your words only egg Toji on to keep fingering you as much as he can, ravaging your delicate insides with his hand alone. He purchases his face to your neck, sighing deeply at the alluring whiff of your lotion. He licks your skin before a kiss, and the pace between your legs becomes unforgivingly faster.

Eyes roll up to the ceiling as your body shuts down without your knowledge, completely taken aback by the climax that clenches around the thickness of Toji’s fingers. Also, the water liquid is excreting projectively from the continuous knock-kneed-worthy pleasure. You let loose with a howl, your back arching with every subtle buck of your hips. 

Toji looks down with a salacious grin, taking in the sight of you spraying all over his bed. The towel is doing nothing but getting damper because of you, and he can only chortle at the sight and, lowkey, thank his intuition for wearing a wife-beater so you can coat his forearm. Dazed with euphoria, your body slumps down to the sheets, sweaty and sticky from the excretions and panting heavily. So much for a shower, huh?

Toji whistles and courses his free hand atop your head while besmearing your vulva with your juices. “Good girl, mama, good fuckin’ girl.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[shouyuus]

─── 恋与深空 APHRODITE MADE ME!!

a mini-series of aphrodisiac-centric fics for our lnds boys bc how else do we celebrate kinktober if not under the influence? here you'll find fics that contain: sex pollen, heat-sex, and not one but two instances of sex-drug induced coitus -- don't say i didn't warn you now!

─── TAG YOU'RE IT .��.ᐟ

pls comment below if you'd like to be tagged in one or all of these fics! cw and specifics below the cut. pls do have an age indicator on ur blog somewhere if ur asking to be tagged! your my mileage may vary in getting these fics out though, bc the muse is sporadic at best and nonexistent at worse, but i'll eventually have all these written... for sure! also, these summaries/tags might change slightly as i actually start to write the fics to better fit the content, but the broad storkes (ha! get it) won't change :) and without further ado -- here we go!

─── 黎深 ZAYNE

doctor, doctor!

he's not one known for overindulgence, so when he comes home from the hospital one day with flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes, you're understandably wary of his claim that he's just fine. but a few more minutes of probing reveals that he'd signed up to test a developing cure for a new strand of black-market aphrodisiacs on himself — well, you think, you might be just the person to nurse him back to health.

cw: knowing use of sex drugs, needy!zayn, internal creampies, handjobs, oral (fem receiving), face-riding, missionary

─── 祁煜 RAFAYEL

so it's that time of year again, except this year on ebb day, he's acting stranger than ever, begging you to touch him, to stay close — it isn't till he'd panting beneath you that he finally tells you the truth, that a lemurian in love reacts to ebb day differently. how differently? well, you're about to find out.

cw: heat!sex, premature ejaculation, power bottom!raf, switch!reader, cowgirl, oral (male receiving), abo-adjacent dynamics

─── 沈星回 XAVIER

it's not often that you come home to find xavier sprawled out on the bed, moaning your name, fucking his fist to the thought of you, but when you do, you can't help but wonder — what brought this on? turns out a lumiere fangirl handed him a box of chocolates and he didn't think twice about eating them. so, what better punishment is there than to let him look but not touch?

cw: unknowing use of sex drugs, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, dom!reader, sub!xavier, orgasm denial, footjobs, bit of aftercare

─── 秦彻 SYLUS

when the twins drag sylus back, squawking about how he nearly got shot, you're more than a little worried. but it quickly becomes apparent that what sylus got shot with wasn't just any normal bullet, and it won't be fatal. but, it is going to be a long, long night, and being the caring captive that you are, what to do but to dress his wounds and help him work through whatever it is that he needs working through?

cw: sex pollen, dom!sylus, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, rough sex, doggy style, creampies, backshot, hair-pulling, biting

[aysrin]

Needle Felt Siffrin Build Log: (oct 6 - nov 20, 2024)

Credits goes wholely to @insertdisc5 for creating ISAT and siffrin's design! I am just here to attempt to make cool fanart (and get more people to play isat.. my devious plans are going great so far :3) As always, this isn't a tutorial- it is just a log about how i go about approaching a sculpture and I hope this collection of resources can help others make their own sifs!!

PSA: this has some spoilers for endgame CGs/sprites on my references image board ( also might see it in the backgrounds of my process pics). And bc this is needle felting, you will see some sharp needles! beware!

my inspiration was the intro cutscene where Sif eats the star, so my main goal was to adhere to the style of ISAT as closely as possible while transfering it to 3D space. And I knew i also wanted to try making the cloak for stopmotion purposes, so my process was tailored towards having control over the fabric with wire inlaid within the cloak (more on that later).

I ended up not sticking eyebrows on top of siffrin's bangs lol but anyways, first order of business is Gather Reference! v important. pureref is free and an awesome program. I also do some sketches to visualize the pose and important details i wanted to include in the sculpt.

behold the isat wiki gallery page! tawnysoup wrote an awesome ISAT style guide that absolutely rings true in 3d space too!! adrienne made a sif hair guide here!! (sorry i couldnt find the original link, but it's on the wiki). It says ref komaeda hair so that's what i looked at, along with other adjacent hairstyles! I also like doing drawovers on in progress photos to previs shapes n stuff to get a better idea of the end result.

Also if you're like me and struggle with translating stuff into 3D space, take a look at how people make 3d models and figurines! sketchfab is also a great resource! I looked at the link botw model by Christoph Schoch here for hair ref. (I used Maya, but there's a blender version too ! you can pose characters too if your model has been rigged!)

Face:

Started off blocking out the main shapes of eyelids and iris, and then filling in the colour details in the iris and the star highlights before moving onto adding thin black outlines and eyelashes. I didn't take many in-progress photos cause i kept ripping stuff out to redo them many many times, sorry!! This eye took about 3 hrs bc i just wasn't happy with it!! Sometimes it do be the vibe to give up, go to bed and see how it looks in the morning (more often than naught, it looks fine and it was the "dont trust yourself after 9pm" speaking)

The Mouth:

Couldn't decide if i even wanted to add a mouth as per usual with all my humanoid sculptures.. but i did some drawover tests first to see what expression i liked and to try to visualize it from multiple angles. (I was also testing the placement of stars on the hat brim here)

And then I redid the mouth like 3 times cause the angle just wasn't right (this went on for about the course of a week yay!)

Hair: woe baldfrin be upon ye

I made the hair strands individually first, and then since Sif has some of the hair at the back dyed black, i covered some of the tips with black wool (manually) (I think it would go much faster if i just took a marker to it, but hahaha i love pain and detailing!! )

And then the rest of it was positioning strands with sewing pins layer by layer, always looking at it from different multiple angles- sometimes tailoring the angle or swoop of individual hair flippies. At one point I thought the back looked too cluttered, but the hat covers a lot of it anyways!! yay for hiding mistakes! (imo this is a similar process to how cosplayers style wigs, but on a smaller scale and the same level of time consuming)

As always, look to your reference for guides, and I always do a whole bunch of drawovers over in progress photos to ascertain what was working and what wasn't.

Hat:

A trick to get a super pointy tip, make another tip seperately while keeping the connection point unfelted, and then combine the two to make super pointy hat!! (this also helps if you made the hat too short and need it to be taller. ask me how i know)

The embroidery on the hat brim was done in a hoop and then invisible stitched to the felted top portion. Technically you don't need a hoop but it helps keep the fabric tension, so you avoid puckers in your embroidery. You can also use iron-on stabilizer if your fabric is loose weave or particularly thin. this is the tutorial i used for the stars embroidery! particularly the fly stitch one, french knots, and the criss-cross stitches. highly recommend needlenthread for embroidery stitches and techniques! i learned all my embroidery from this single site alone.

For fabric, I think I used a polycotton i had in my stash,, unsure of the actual fiber content bc i bought it a long time ago. I used DMC Satin floss which was nice and subtle shiny but frayed a lot so it was kind of a pain to stitch with... but keep a short thread length and perservere through it!! After the embroidery was done, I folded up the raw edges and invisible sewed it to the top portion of the hat.

General shape:

Ok general structure of the body is this: wire armature body covered with black wool -> cloak lining & wire cage -> edge of lining is invisibly sewn to the main cloak at the hem -> head

Don't be afraid to mess around with the pattern, it's essentially a pizza with a slice taken out of it to form a steep cone shape!! Use draft paper before cutting into felt to save material! (i think i made like 3 cloaks before i was happy with the shape lol).

You can also hide the seam of the cloak and collars by gently messing up the fibers of the felt with your fingers or a felting needle btw! you can also sandpaper the seams according to Sarah Spaceman in this vid (highly recommend them for their in depth cosplay/crafting builds holy smokes), though since sif cloak is at such a smol scale, I just blended the seam with my felting needle.

For the lining wire cage section, I sewed in wire around the cloak, so the main rotation point is at the top neck area under the collar. These paddles are used to keep whatever pose I need the cloak to be in for stopmotion purposes. Then after the wire is done, I invisibly sewed the lining to the cloak at the hem (same technique as the hat brim to the lining there).

In hindsight, I should've used a thinner fabric for the lining, but i only had sheer white in my stash so had to go with double felt, thus resulting in a really bulky lining but oh well!

Heels:

started with the general boot shape, then tacking on the diamond shape heel stack and also diamond shape sole bc we're committed to the bit here. I skewer the boot onto the armature which also conveniently hides the connection point into the base to keep the whole thing upright and also I can rotate the boot to tweak the angle if needed.

Pins:

I kinda just trial and error'd jewellery wire with pliers into the pin shapes. They're itty bitty!! had a whole bunch of fails before i got two nice ones. A hot tip is to use needle nose pliers and wrap the wire around the tip to get a smooth circle shape!

Base:

I smoothed out the edge of a circular wood base with a dremel, and then used wood stainer to get the black colour. It ended up kinda looking like I took a sharpie to it, but whatever.... now i have a whole ass can of black wood stainer........ I then made a rough mountain of black wool and stuck the feet armature in. And now he's standing!!

Normally at this point when I'm done felting everything, to get a smooth finish, I'd take a small pair of scissors and carefully snip away any flyaway fibers, but this time, I just left them fluffy cause i think that's what sif would do :3c

Photoshoot:

Normally I do shoots using daylight but it was winter so the sun was nonexistent. So I broke out the home lighting setup aka dollarstore posterboard for a nice smooth background, and then hit it with the overhead Fill, side Fill 2, and Rim light, and use white paper/posterboard for bounce light if one side feels too dark. But if things are overexposed, you can move the light sources away until the harshness dims down. I'm using a Olympus mirrorless camera (handed down to me by my sibling so i dont remember the model exactly), which can connect to my phone as a remote so I can avoid shaking the camera when i take photos. Pretty nifty for stopmotion purposes! (yes my camera stand is a stack of notebooks, a tissuebox and some eva foam under the lens, don't judge me)

Stopmotion animation:

I'm still figuring stopmo out on my part, but my process was straight ahead animation ... move the cloak a cm, take a pic.... move another cm, click.... and repeat until i get a version I was happy with. My ref was the cloak animation from Gris (beautiful game btw). The 2d star animation was also done straight ahead using procreate, exported in png with a transparent background, and finally stitched together with the stopmotion footage in photoshop.

My turnarounds are also stopmotion! also secret hack, the turntable is a fidget spinner sticky tacked to a cake platter.

And i think that's all! i mainly wanted to share how I go about thinking about taking a 2d concept and moving it to 3D. I also didn't go in depth into how to actually do the needle felting bc I don't think I''d be very helpful I'm a very good teacher by telling yall to just keep stabbing until it looks right (i'm self taught for this hobby),,, if anyone wants it though, i can share a bunch of tutorials and other felters' process that helped me learn more needle felting!

Hopefully this was helpful to someone! Feel free to send asks if ya got any questions or if anything needs clarification! Or show me your works! I love seeing other people's crafts :3

here have a cookie for making it this far 🥐

[tbaluver]

S/O That Wears Glasses- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader requested: by anonnie `⎚⩊⎚´ -✧ genre/tags: fluff fluff + silly a/n: hihi lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ we're nawt gonna talk abt how long ago this request was ( ;´ - `;) this is a lil short but i should have other posts uploaded soon ! enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ thank yew @ilovemitsuya and @deusfoundry for helping MWAH ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

he adores you with or without them

The type to remove your glasses as soon as you both settle in for bed, believing you should feel comfortable and relaxed without them.

Sometimes he playfully tests how bad your vision is by leaning his face close, causing your face to flush

Whenever your glasses break during a mission, he immediately works to fix them on the spot so you can see clearly again.

Goes "boop" whenever he sees your glasses slipping off your nose while gently pushing them back up for you

Zayne:

He knows your exact prescription so he makes sure to always have an extra pair on him whenever you forget, lose, or accidentally break them

When he comes home late at night and finds you asleep with your glasses on, he gently takes them off for you, carefully placing them on the nightstand or back in their case

He would carry a small cloth on him whenever your glasses get smudged

One time he accidentally grabbed your glasses when rushing back to the hospital, not realizing how much smaller they felt

Gets you matching sunglasses that he wears often in the cafe so you can wear them when the sun is too bright

Rafayel:

The type to act cute whenever he tries to put on your glasses for you but ends up poking your eye. He’ll end up rambling many apologies right after

Attempt two. Covers your eyes- unless your vision is already bad, to surprise kiss you. Sometimes he covers your eyes and he’ll say “guess whoooo cutie?”

Attempt three. When you were looking for your glasses, he'd place them on top of his head. When you finally spot them and reach up to grab it, he'd lean down to your level and press a sweet kiss on your lips before handing them over

He'd make you a personal and special goggles so you can dive into the sea together. He'd also make a cute case for your glasses that's designed perfectly for you

Sylus:

When your current glasses feel too uncomfortable, he’ll go shopping with you to find a pair that’s more comfortable and suited to your style. He’ll even engrave something special for you on the temples. The same goes for when your glasses break after you accidentally leave them on the bed or couch, making his fifty pounds of voluptuous ass accidentally sit on them. He would have to remind you to be careful where you place them.

He’ll offer to read things out for you if you’re reading a book, using a tablet, or trying to read a menu way to close to your face

Brushes your hair out of the way when your glasses start to slip down your nose or get out place

Whenever he leans in to kiss you, he gently lifts your glasses off to make sure nothing comes between the two of you

Caleb:

If you lost your glasses somewhere at the house, detective Caleb is on it. He’ll reassure you that he’ll look for it himself because he doesn’t want you to bump into anything or hurt yourself- depending on how bad your vision is

He’s playfully taken your glasses before just to see how they’d look on him but then he realized that they were too small for him. But really he just wanted to know how your vision is just in case he could be even more helpful for you.

Anytime you go out with him, he’ll help adjust your glasses for you whenever he sees them slipping off.

Finds it cute whenever your glasses get fogged up whenever you eat something steamy or cook something steamy with him. He’ll offer to feed it to you or he’ll let you cook with different ingredients instead

[petalbcrnes]

ㅤ۟ㅤㅤ──ㅤ𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓ㅤ۫ㅤ ͏ㅤ𑜞᭄ ㅤ۪ㅤ⊹ㅤ𓈒

🧷 𑁯 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 ── 𝓙𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 w/ an 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ! reader ഒ

♡ · REQUEST ── ❝ Could I pretty please request a fic thats Jason Todd X reader!!! But like... Reader is THAT girl . . . She has and always will be the shit of Gotham . . . Jason and reader have been friends since his robin dayz, and after he dies they still get back together and resume their bad bitch couple shit . . . it melts ppls hearts. ❞

⊹ 💬 · these reqs are so fun i love writing jaybeans and reader totally in love and being the hottest people in the room <3

ഒ DIRECTORY⠀;⠀RULES⠀;⠀TALK HERE⠀;⠀HEADCANONS

Jason thinks he knows what sanctuary feels like—heaven built brick by brick by the hands of an angel he once knew before the waves of the Lazarus Pit covered him completely. It changed his young skin into something marred.

He did come back. He clawed his way out of his grave. But he came back wrong. He left something of the boy he used to be under that dirt. The name ‘Jason Todd’ etched upon that gravestone was long forgotten by most.

By most. Not all.

There had been white lilies upon his grave. It was like clockwork. Every month She came to him—or where She thought he rested. He watched from afar. His eyes never left the angel he used to know—his sanctuary.

She had grown up into something otherworldly. She wasn’t the girl he used to see during the Galas Bruce dragged him to, clinging to her parents as if everyone else around her scared her. Her glossy eyed stare had found him then. It had been so easy to attach himself to Her.

She was his friend. Is still now by the look of it. She never stopped visiting with those White Lilies, grieving losing something as if he was something She held dear.

She’s something different now. The girl She was still lingered behind those sharp eyes—hypnotizing to a fault—eyes that used to trap him in their hold and still continue to do so to this day.

She walks with a purpose now. Every step is calculated. People in Gotham City worship or curse the ground She walks on. It doesn’t change the fact everyone knows Her. Everyone notices Her.

She shines the brightest in this whole damned city.

He had wished She could shine upon him as well. He took his chance. Like a dog scratching at its owner’s door, begging to be let in—he caved and ran to the only sanctuary he’d known—Her.

She opened the door.

It was a dark night when he visited Her. The alabaster moon’s light was akin to a halo around Her. Her hair was perfectly imperfect—styled but slightly messy from sleeping. Her skin just as alive as he remembered it.

Her eyes still looked at him as if She loved his own sea-green eyes. Her hands now slender and soft—different from the calloused hands of his—still tender as they grazed his face, testing if he was real. As if this was a dream for Her, as if She dreamed of him.

The way She brought him into Her hold felt like a dream. The way She let him wrap his arms around her felt like a dream.

He’d entered the sanctuary again after that night alongside Her. Or maybe, the sanctuary was always just Her.

Next to Her he felt alive. The boy Jason Todd came alive under Her touch. It felt akin to lightning under his fingertips. It felt like a drug he was getting addicted to.

She was his. He was Hers.

The wide-eyed stares the two of them got was ever so worth it. Gotham City’s angel had brought heaven to the devil. Her hands played the entire Gotham elite like an instrument. She was Gotham City’s crowned princess, and him—the prince.

The media was alive with rumors about the two of them.

‘Is Love Real? Jason Todd's Soft Eyes™ Only for Gotham's It Girl: Gotham gasps. Media combusts. Hearts melt.’

Jason wasn’t used to this kind of light.

Not from the moon, not from Her living room dimmed by candlelight, not from the soft flash of paparazzi bulbs trying to catch a glimpse of their joined silhouettes through the tinted windows of a passing car.

He wasn’t used to being seen like this.

Not as a weapon. Not as a story of resurrection gone wrong.

But as Hers.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There's something about the way She walks beside him. Like Gotham belongs to Her and She’s just letting everyone else borrow the sidewalk.

Jason doesn’t flinch under the eyes anymore. He used to. Used to brace himself for whispers or stares, expecting judgment or recognition or worse.

But now—now the stares are different.

They’re envious.

Jason said, “You wanna ditch this place?” His voice carried the weight of a man who’d learned the value of simple pleasures after tasting both death and resurrection.

She turned to him, eyes gleaming like She knew every life he'd lived—and said, “Yeah. But I'm driving.” The words simple but carrying universes between them.

He’d never loved a voice more in his life.

The next morning, tabloids were in flames.

‘Gotham's Golden Girl and the Reformed Robin.’

A grainy photo of them in a booth at some dive on the east end—Her in his leather jacket, him smiling like he forgot how to scowl, like happiness wasn’t just something that happened to other people.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Tim said, “So, this is a thing now?” His voice cutting through the manor’s morning quiet like a curious bird.

Jason shrugged, sipping coffee in the manor kitchen like he didn’t just spend the night wrapped in silk sheets and Her perfume, like dawn hadn’t broken over his skin with Her breath against his neck. “Guess it is.”

“Since when?”

“Since she opened the damn door.” And with those words, heaven had let him back in.

Dick walked in, caught sight of the look on Jason's face and went, “Oh my god, he's in love.” The words hanging in the air like a revelation.

That’s when Roy burst in through the back entrance, wild-haired and sleep-deprived, clearly running off three hours of rest and one Red Bull, a whirlwind of motion and disbelief.

“I just saw the photo, and I swear to God, tell me it's Photoshop.”

Jason blinked. “Morning to you too, Harper.”

Roy stormed into the kitchen, phone in hand, showing the now-viral tabloid shot of Her sitting on Jason’s motorcycle in a black leather mini-dress and his jacket like she was the poster girl for ‘my boyfriend’s a reformed vigilante and I run this city.’

“This. This is real?! You and her?!”

Jason didn't even look. “Yeah. Real.” In those two words, the certainty of a man who’d touched divinity and lived to tell about it.

Tim sipped his drink like this was better than reality television.

Dick leaned against the fridge, smirking. “He’s been soft for her since we were kids.”

Roy stared at all of them, processing, then slowly sat down at the kitchen island like his legs gave out. “No, I need a minute. I’m dizzy. Jason Todd has a goddess who voluntarily chooses to hang out with him?”

Jason raised a brow. “You good?”

“No! I am not good!” Roy pointed dramatically. “You’re hot in a feral, ‘I fought my way out of hell’ kinda way. She’s hot in a ‘Vogue cover and private yacht in Monaco’ kinda way. That math doesn't math.”

“Sounds like jealousy to me.” Jason just grinned like the devil himself got a second chance at heaven.

© petalbcrnes | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified. viewer discretion is advised.

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][part 2 of this][fingering][edging][daddy kink][hair pulling][missionary][knees to the chest][passionate][begging][subtle breeding kink][whiny dick][doggy style][pussydrunk man>>][could see him as a girldad][not proofread]

"And— And— I saw a clownfish. Like, like Nemo. And I saw crabs. And— and I saw the big, big fish that's like—" Riot's tiny arms outstretch as far as they can, eyes wide and emphatic, "bigger than this."

He stands in the kitchen, sock-clad feet pittering after Alfred as he continues to break down each and every sighting of the aquarium. The older man stares down at him, grin stretching to no end because it reminds him of when Bruce was no taller than his knee, breaking down each thing he saw at galas and events in the late evening hours when he was supposed to be asleep.

"I thought you were going to the museum." Alfred hums. "Why the change of plans?"

And Riot hums, rocking back and forth on his feet. "We wanted to go, but someone took a painting so we didn't. So we went to see the fishies."

"And what was your favourite part?" Alfred hums softly, weathered eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched the way chubby fingers carefully grab different utensils from the different dish washer compartments, holding them out to for Alfred to pack away in the cupboards far too high.

"The touch tank!" Riot chirps, before letting out an excited gasp. "So many fishies. And—" Tubby hands flail excitedly. "And sharks."

Alfred hums almost thoughtfully.

"And did you get to touch the sharks?" Alfred questions, so animated and inquisitive and the giggle Riot lets out is the most heartwarming sound he's heard in a long while.

The sound of a child being simply what they are;

A child.

Not a vigilante, not a hero.

"No, silly Grampy." Chonky hands cover his mouth as he giggles. "The touch tank had the sea cucumbers, and the starfishies."

Alfred melts. Scooping Riot up in his arms, lithe muscles shifting beneath the flesh as he rests the boy on his hip before moving into the lounge, staring Bruce dead in the eye.

"I am 'Grampy', Master Bruce." Alfred gleams, the apples of his cheeks rising and Bruce simply scowls, before looking down at Riot who watches him with wide eyes. Head tilting before covering his hand with his mouth.

"Daddy?" Riot's voice is tiny as he holds his arms out to Bruce, making grabby hands as his eyes well up.

The room goes dead silent, Duke's hand moves to cover his mouth, eyes darting between Bruce, Riot and Dick. Because the tea is piping right now.

And you let out a snort, raising your glass to your lips. "You can't con these ones, baby, they have the money for DNA tests."

And Riot huffs, tiny fists wiping away fat tears before he hops down from Alfred's hip, giving the older man's hand a sweet, and affectionate squeeze before he moves towards you, soft footsteps carrying him towards you, and he stands between your thighs, hands bracing on your legs and you huff.

"Never let me have anything." You murmur under your breath, before one of your hands rest beneath Riot's chin, while you let him have a sip of your juice. Tiny hands clasp around the cool glass, although your hand remains on it to prevent a little accident.

And Dick's just so... Smitten.

Brilliant blue eyes locked on the way your thumb so carefully brushes away a stray droplet of juice, pretty eyes locked on the chubby features of your baby as he, undoubtedly, judges the Wayne household. All except Alfred, probably.

Dick brushes back long, muscular fingers through his hair, easing back against the backrest before extending his legs, crossing them at the ankles and his tongue runs over his teeth when he watches the way Riot plants himself next to you.

Looking at everyone.

Before zeroing in on Duke.

"Signal."

Riot's singular utter makes the room go silent. Dead silent, and shared glances are shared, before Duke lets out a laugh, elbows braced on his knees and he leans forward.

"What makes you think that, little man?" Duke hums, tone light and easy, despite the fact that his brain is moving at 1 000 000 miles a minute.

"I haven't seen a lot of black people in Gotham."

The words leave the little boy's lips and you nearly spit out your juice before looking at Riot, eyes wide and lips pursed to hide a laugh that you know might be distasteful.

"Riot, baby, no. Don't—you could've mentioned literally anything else. Like the slight glow, or the black and yellow shoes or anything else." You pinch the bridge of your nose when Riot lets out a giggle in response.

"But m'funnier."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ❄️་༘࿐

"You should've told me about him." Dick's voice is a quiet murmur and you simply let out a sigh, your fingers deftly folding a tiny pajamas set, as well as several pairs of underwear and socks, stuffing them into a Spiderman backpack.

It's something you've been hearing all day. In the quiet whispers of wind rustling the branches of the trees, the crunch of gravel beneath each of your footsteps as Dick would carry Riot on his hip, watching as the little boy points out the different breeds of dog that were scattered in the park.

Fuck, you even heard it in the bubbles let out by different fish as you walked past tanks because never in a million years, had the thought even crossed your mind, that Dick would be ecstatic to be a dad.

You didn't think of the way a smile would stretch so effortlessly on his stupidly perfect face whenever Riot would point out something, you didn't think of the way he'd be so happy to take pictures of his son in front of different tanks. You didn't think of the way his breath would visibly stutter when Riot would ask for his first family picture, and you didn't think of the way his eyes would meet yours as you both blew raspberries against the giggling and rosy cheeks of your baby.

"I don't know, Ri—" "Don't call me that, please." Dick breathes out softly, blue eyes softening as he looks down at you, taking the balled up socks from your hand and setting them back down, and his hands move to hold your hands. And Dick forces you to look at him, as he guides one of your hands to cup his cheek.

The warmth of his palm isn't something you've forgotten. Just like the length of his fingers. Musician's hands, if anything.

"Don't talk to me like you don't know me."

Dick's voice is soft as he tilts his head, pressing a kiss to your palm. "You know me. You knew me twice on your couch last night." Dick adds, the offhanded comment bringing a reluctant smile to your lips and he hums out a chuckle, before stepping closer to you, forcing you to crane your neck backwards. And Dick cups your face in his hands.

"Don't shut me out." He speaks so softly. "Not again."

The way Dick looks at you nearly makes you melt, all soft eyes and warm palms, cradling your face like you're the most precious thing to walk the Earth.

And Dick swallows.

Long lashes fluttering so prettily, before his tongue darts out, dragging across his pinkened bottom lip.

"Open up to me..." He breathes out, so sweetly. "Please, baby."

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ❄️་༘࿐

"That's a good girl... There she is, open up for me more, pretty..."

"Dickie...."

Your voice is a hoarse whimper, legs tossed over Dick's broad thighs, your panties and pants abandoned across the surface of whatever furniture was the nearest as dextrous digits continue to push past your gummy walls.

Your nails dig into his thighs, lashes fluttering with each curl of his fingers and moans slip past your lips whenever his lips brush against the curve of your ear. Tracing the shell with his tongue, before pulling your lobe into his mouth, teeth brushing against the sensitive skin.

"Nobody's taken care of this pretty pussy since me, huh?" Dick coos softly, fingers pulling out of you only to give you those delightful, teasing smacks against your neglected clit, watching the way your thighs burn to close. And he does it again.

Light smacks that make your hole clench around nothing, whines slipping past your lips.

And you nod your head weakly, toes curling in your socks and Dick croons to you, so sweet as he presses a kiss against your pulse.

"Shhhh, it's okay, gorgeous. Daddy's home."

His fingers circle your clit so attentively, brilliant blue eyes darkened by lust and want, watching as your face screws up and your hips buck in his lap, pleasure nearly blinding and he's not even making you come yet.

Dick's prolonging it because well, you just look so pretty when slick oozes from you, puffy pussy glossy with your wetness, eyes teary and your bottom lip is wedged between your teeth.

Your face is flushed, rosy cheeks with beads of sweat gathering at your temples and Dick hums softly, pushing his middle finger into your needy cunt. All the way to the knuckle, before pulling out all the way, just to trace your gooey slit with the tips of his fingers.

And you whine.

"Dick, please." The sound of your voice so weak has Dick straining against his boxers, his lashes flutter and he lets himself breathe, just to get a hold of himself.

He's a bit of a people pleaser and God, does he wanna please you.

And Dick swallows, before nodding his head, shifting you off his lap and instead, guiding you to rest against the backrest, thighs spread obscenely wide and your feet resting on the seats on either side of you.

And Dick's head dips low, taking a deep breath of the scent of you. Your slick, your pussy, everything. It all just makes him so dizzy that he leans forward without a second's notice, tongue curling against your clit and Dick moans when your fingers find purchase in his hair.

Lovely digits curl around the thick locks and he hums, nodding his head.

"That's it, baby." He hums. "Pull my hair."

Dick's whimper is hypnotic when you tug on the raven strands, guiding his face back to your pussy where his lips wrap around the sensitive nub, suckling at it so earnestly.

And your hips buck and twitch, hands readjusting their grip and instead, grabbing the back of his head, moving him closer.

"That's it, pretty. Make yourself feel good— Come on my fucking tongue."

Your feet leave the surface of the sofa, knees nearly pulled up all the way and Dick's having the fucking time of his life when you tug him this way and that way by his hair.

Dick's tongue dips into your core, prodding around the gummy insides as the ball of his nose grinds against your clit and you're coming. Clenching around his tongue, tangling your fingers in his hair and wrapping your thighs around his neck.

The sounds you make are melodious, gasps, and breaths leaving you like you ran a marathon, all as he continues to lap at your slick cunt like a fucking animal in heat.

When Dick lifts his head, his pupils are dilated and the lower half of his face is glistening with a sheen that puts dewy makeup to shame.

Dick practically looks like he's glowing from the inside.

And he's definitely glowing when he brings your knees up to your chest, urging you to keep them there while he fumbles with his belt.

"Spread your pretty pussy for me, yeah?" Dick breathes out, eyes locked on where a peace sign has two of your digits tucked on either side of your folds, pushing your pussy lips apart and he groans at the sight of your hole.

Warm, inviting and so, so pretty.

"That's fucking perfect, baby. You're perfect." Dick's breathing heavy as he taps the flushed head of his cock against your clit, watching as your belly flexes and tightens, right before he sticks his tip in.

You're warm. You're gooey. And you're so fucking perfect, wrapping around his cock like the perfect pair of socks. And Dick whines when you squelch around him, each sinking inch making him so much more desperate to feel you come on his cock.

When Dick's balls rest against the curve of your ass, you get a feel of just how fucking heavy they are, muscular hands keep your knees anchored to your chest. And he swallows, panted breaths falling from his lips.

Dick pulls out halfway, and only halfway. Because it's damn near painful to be out of your wet heat and he's pushing back in, grinding against you each time your flesh meets his.

His head dips, long, tongue kisses pressed against your lips while his hips thrust into you, slow and meaningful, and so, sooooo fucking deep. His tongue moves against yours, the only sounds being Dick's breathy groans and the sound of skin hitting skin. Alongside the wet sounds of his tongue, wrapping around yours with the same kind of skill he eats pussy.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. But you're not too focused on that when his prettily curved cock is dragging against that spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut, panted breaths leaving you.

"I w'na—... Mm-fuck, you're so tight, oh my god." Dick moans against your lips, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, hot breaths fanning across your features as he looks down towards where you're split open on his fat cock. Glistening pussy taking him like you were made to.

"I wanna—" Dick swallows, a shaky breath leaving his broad chest before he pushes down on you, forcing you further into the cushions, "—wanna be a f-family."

Your breath stills in your lungs but you don't speak, simply nodding your head, urging Dick to continue as he fucks into you, feeling the way your walls flutter at the trembles that line his voice.

"I wanna— fuck, please." Dick's face presses into the curve of your neck, his arms instead coming to wrap around you, his hips beginning to snap rather quickly into you as he brings you closer. Your thighs remain against your torso, the sting in your hamstrings is apparent but not as apparent as the battering your cervix is taking.

"Please, please, please. Be with me."

Dick begs. His hips fucking into you at an almost inhuman pace, your toes curl and your vision becomes speckled and you whimper, a breathless gasp taking you over as you approach your second orgasm.

And fast.

Your mind hits a blank, your tongue threatening to loll out at the way Dick fucks you brainless, all while begging to be a family. Your belly is in knots and you're making a creamy ring at the base of him, a sight that would have Dick going crazy if he wasn't too busy hiding his rosy face in your neck.

And you nod mindlessly. "Uh huh..." You mumble weakly when you feel the sensation of Dick pulling his cock out of you, still wet with your slick and still so hard as he carefully guides you to instead, go on your hands and knees on the sofa.

Dick's knees dig into the cushions, his cock slowly sliding into you once again as the curve of your back deepens, a downright demonic arch that has him biting down a whimper at the sight alone.

His veiny hand travels down the curve, tracing the dip in your spine before grabbing the hair at the nape of your neck, fisting his fingers and tugging you just a bit back, enough for your head to lift from the cushions and your arch to deepen.

"Really?" Dick chirps so sweetly, his hips rocking into yours and his tip leaks copious amounts of precum that has him wondering if he already came.

And you nod weakly.

And you feel as Dick leans forward, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before straightening back up, his hands moving to bracket your hips.

And with your bleary ass peripheral vision, you catch a glimpse of Dick steadying himself, planting one foot on the sofa for the stability he needs.

"Now, let's... Expand the family, huh?" Dick mumbles, his voice just a bit slurred from the pussydrunkenness.

"Give me a little girl this time, okay?"

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[mrgoldmc26]

Yuna goes to School Part 1

Tags: Different sexual partners, blowjob, anal, creampie, lots of dirty talk, spanking, school sex, cum swallowing, facial, daddy kink and more...

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry for the long wait for another chapter. I hope you guys like this one. Decided to try something new, not only in terms on kinks, but also writing style. Wanted to make some words stand out (in terms of their meaning), so I made them bold just add that little extra umpf to it.

Also, no way near as many pics as in my other chapters, because I wanted to keep the theme of this chapter.

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

"Ten more days in this shithole, and I'm free forever." Yuna thought to herself.

Life as an idol wasn't easy, especially if you were still in school. There wasn't a single spot inside the school where Yuna could go without feeling someone looking at her. Because she had debuted with Itzy at such a young age, almost 3 years ago, it meant she was by far the most popular girl in the school, and with that came great responsibilities.

There was a lot of pressure on her at all times. She couldn't get caught lacking. Yuna had to look flawless at every moment. She also had to be extremely careful with what she said and did, or else all it took was one video out of context and her career would be over, just like that. But perhaps most importantly, just like any other student, her grades had to be top-notch. Netizens would destroy Yuna online if they found out she was just as dumb as the average BTS fan...

Unfortunately for Yuna, balancing idol life with school studies was starting to get increasingly more difficult, and with the final exam just around the corner, she knew she needed help.

Knowing this, Yuna decided to head over to the school library, where she luckily found the smartest student in the whole school. He was one of those prodigy kids...a black guy that came to Korea through one of those exchange student programs. Not only was he the smartest guy in the school, but he was also in her class, which meant that if there was anyone who could help her, it was him.

"Hey...do you mind if I sit here, next to you?"

The boy was very shy, and why wouldn't he be? Hottest girl in the school wanting to sit right next to you...a celebrity, an idol, a legend in the making, and a future icon of the business...it was perfectly normal for him to feel this way towards her, especially when she wanted to be right next to him.

He nodded very quietly, and Yuna sat down next to him.

"Can you help me study for the test? I really need it." She asked, giving him the eyes.

"Uhhmm, y-yeah...of course..."

Yuna almost burst out laughing with how much the poor boy was shaking, but she managed to hold it, and instead she just smiled at him.

The two started going over the potential exercises that could show up in the test, and it was going nicely for the first couple of minutes until Yuna decided to rest her hand on his thigh, and that's when she felt a large bulge in his pants. The guy was rock hard, just from being next to Yuna, and he shifted in his seat as soon as he felt her hand touch his boner.

"Uhmmm, sorry." Yuna said, immediately removing her hand.

The guy gulped down hard, hoping that she didn't feel how hard he was for her, but Yuna knew...Yuna knew and she wanted it...badly.

It was Yuna's biggest weakness...cocks. The bigger, the better. The more, the merrier. She couldn't help herself. Not ever since Ryujin opened her doors to this side of the universe, shortly after she turned 18, almost two months ago. Ever since the day that Ryujin invited a fan backstage after a show for a special "Meet & Greet" with both of them, Yuna couldn't think of anything else other than cocks. During classes, all she could think about was which guy she should pick to bring over to the bathroom and blow him during the intervals.

Yuna never would've guessed that this shy smart boy had a big cock, but she should've, given he was black.

As for him, he lost all composure once he felt her hand on his pants. After that, he could no longer help Yuna with studies...hell...he could barely string a sentence together...

"Do you want me to take care of that?"

"Huh?...what?!"

"C'mon, I know you want it."

"B-but...we are in the library."

"Chill, look around...there is barely anyone here, plus we are like in the most hidden corner of the library. We are not gonna get caught." Yuna said, getting off her chair and sliding to her knees.

She immediately started working on his pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his ankles alongside his boxers.

"Yuna, are you sure? This is cra..fuckkkkkk"

His sentence died in his mouth as soon as Yuna took his whole length down her throat. She deepthroated his enormous black cock a few times before pulling back, and she already had multiple strings of spit dripping down her chin.

"Fuck, I love sucking big black cocks." She said, giving his shaft a few strokes before sliding her lips past his dick and taking him into her mouth once again.

The guy was in utter disbelief of how he managed to get into this situation in the first place, but he didn't care. He very well knew this was his only chance of fucking a K-Pop idol, and he wasn't going to waste it. He no longer cared if he got caught, and neither did Yuna.

He remained seated on the chair and let Yuna do all the work. The 18-year-old idol happily bobbed her head up and down on his big black cock and kept slurping away. The guy threw his head back as Yuna constantly choked herself on his dick.

"Yuna...I'm not going to last much longer."

Yuna smiled with his cock in her mouth and kept sucking his dick for a couple more seconds before releasing him with a loud pop in the practically empty school library.

"Good...then don't. Stand up, fuck my face, and cum down my throat." She said, holding his massive black cock with both of her hands and rapidly stroking it whilst sliding her tongue across his sensitive tip.

Every word that came out of the mouth of Itzy's maknae fueled his lust for her, and his shy barrier was rapidly cracking. He was eager to fulfill Yuna's request, and so he stood up, put his hands on each side of her face, and started smashing his cock into the back of Yuna's throat. Yuna proudly gagged around his black cock like the naughty student that she was and took it all the way down. Her school uniform was covered in drool in just a matter of seconds, but that didn't stop him from thrusting his hips and giving Yuna all of his cock.

Seeing Yuna on her knees with her mouth stuffed full of his brown cock only made him grow in confidence, and he decided to show her this by slapping the left cheek of her face with his right hand a few times, until it became red. Yuna was loving every single second of it, and she made sure to tell him by removing his hard dick from her mouth and slapping her face with it for a couple of seconds.

Yuna's efforts on his cock sent him to a point of no return, and he quickly grabbed hold of her hair and shoved his dick right back into her mouth. Yuna's eyes were wide open as she got caught by surprise, but she didn't mind it. She loved it, actually. Loved feeling his hard cock slide past her lips each time he went in and out of her mouth. Loved feeling his heavy balls hit her chin with each thrust. And she fucking loved when he eventually blew his load inside her mouth, sending multiple ropes to the back of Yuna's throat, filling it entirely.

She tried to swallow everything, but it was too much cum, even for someone like Yuna, and she had no other option but to spit half of his seed onto her uniform. It created a large stain that would be pretty difficult to hide, but that was the last thing on Yuna's mind right now...

"Fuck, I didn't know you had so much cum."

"Yeah, well...black men always cum a lot, you should know."

"True, but I don't think the cum I've sucked out of black dicks so far compares to yours."

"Didn't you turn 18 like a month ago or something?"

"I did, but I've got some experience already...Ryujin unnie is teaching me the ropes."

Yuna's reply made his cock twitch, and it only got harder when Yuna stood up and turned around. She gave him a brief smile over her shoulder before bending over and sliding down her soaked panties.

She shook her butt a little bit, as if she was begging him to slide his dick inside her.

"Yuna, what the fuck...I...I can't. It's still sensitive."

"But it's hard, and I want it. Don't you wanna fuck my tight pussy with that big cock?"

"You are crazy..."

"Crazy for cock, yes. Now shut up and fuck me. And don't you dare pull out. I want you to cum inside me."

There was no chance in hell that he was going to give up on this offer, and so he placed his hands on Yuna's waist and started teasing her by rubbing his hard dick between her pussy lips.

"Don't tease me, please. Put that dick inside me and fuck me hard."

"I need that huge cock inside me right now."

Cock was what she craved, and cock was what she got when the guy slowly slid his entire length into Yuna's cunt. Yuna was extremely tight, which was always going to be the case given how young she was, however, luckily for him, she was indeed very wet, and with the blowjob from earlier, it made his cock slip in and out of her Korean pussy not as difficult of a task as one might think.

He pumped her at a steady pace, not slow or fast. All he wanted was to feel her walls and the way they hugged big black cock perfectly, as if Yuna was born to take such a huge dick (which she definitely was).

The longer he fucked her, the more Yuna begged him to go harder, and once he did, she started moaning loudly. His reactions were insanely fast, and he quickly put his right hand over her mouth, preventing Yuna from revealing their location to the one or two people still inside the school library at that time.

"Are you fucking crazy? Do you wanna get caught?" He asked, removing his hand so she could answer.

"Sorry...Fuckkk, I can't help it. It's too good. Your cock is just so fucking perfect...It's much bigger than any other black cock I've taken so far."

"And no...I don't wanna get caught. All I want is your cum, so please...give it to me."

"Pull my hair and pump me full of cum. I wannabe your BBC slut."

With his hand back over her mouth and now a grip on her hair, he began fucking Yuna hard and rough. Her moans might've been muffled, but anyone who would come close to their proximity, could 100% hear the sound of Yuna's cheeks getting absolutely clapped and pounded with immense force...he did not hold back, whatsoever.

At that time, the library was nothing more than Yuna's sex chamber...a place for her to be fucked and ruined by a fellow classmate that had a ridiculously huge black cock.

Yuna took his cock like a pro and let him use her as his personal toy. A few seconds of rubbing her clit after putting her hand between her legs was all it took to make her cum on his cock, and once she did, her legs almost gave up. In fact, if not for him or the table that she was currently being bent over, Yuna would've collapsed to the ground. Instead, she was able to just remain there and take his big black cock over and over and over again, with her pussy being stretched to the absolute limit.

With fear that someone else might hear him, he didn't tell Yuna that he was close and instead kept hammering away at her pussy. He fucked her balls deep, and after a couple of more minutes of using Yuna as his personal cumslut, he unloaded inside her just like she asked.

"Oh my god, fuckkkk. It's so warm...I can feel your cock throbbing inside my pussy."

"I can't believe I just fucked a K-Pop idol inside the school..."

"It definitely won't be the last time. I can guarantee you that." Yuna replied, as the guy pulled out his cock and watched as his cum slowly leaked out of Yuna's pussy and ran down her thighs before falling onto the floor.

And she was right...it wasn't the last time. For the entirety of the next week leading up to the final exam, Yuna and him fucked her all over the school, in the most hidden of spaces. She took his cock everywhere...in her mouth, in her pussy and she even let him have her ass. Yuna let him use her as his personal cumdispenser. All that Yuna could think about was him and his huge black cock, that it actually caused a huge problem for her...she didn't study. She actually didn't study...not one bit. Yuna was fucked, and not in the good way.

The final exam was a disaster for Yuna. For the next two days after the exam, she prayed that it was enough to pass. When the day of receiving her grade arrived, her professor waited for the very last minute of the class to hand out the results. He had the exams on a stack on top of his table and told everyone to grab theirs and leave his classroom. Yuna was the very last one to grab hers because she feared the worst, and her professor confirmed her fears before Yuna even had the chance to pick up her exam and look at her grade.

"Shin Yuna...what happened?"

"Professor...I don't know..."

"It pains me to do this to you...to end your career, just because of a test..."

"Please, don't do this...this can't get out...I need a passing grade, or else it's all over...my dream of becoming an idol will end." She said, walking over to his side of the desk with the most pleading face she could pull.

"Yuna...I can't do anything for you. My hands are tied. I'm sorry."

"You can't, but...maybe I can do something for you..." Yuna said, slowly reaching over to his crotch with her hand.

"Yuna, what are you doing? I can't do this."

"Your dick says otherwise." She replied, feeling his cock already getting hard.

"I can't do this...I can't risk my job."

"Nobody is going to find out. Everyone has already left."

"It's just me, you, and your big cock." She added, felling him getting harder and harder with each rub.

"Yuna...fuckkkk."

"No...fuck...shit...I can't do it. I'm married."

"Oh, come on...I see the way you look at me when I'm in class. I know you want to fuck me." She said, as she stopped working on his pants and moved behind him to give him a massage on his shoulders.

"I see the way you arrive every day...stressed. Is your wife not doing the job, Mr. Professor?"

"Is she not draining those balls properly?" She doubled down, whispering in his ear.

"Don't you wanna fuck a hot, popular K-Pop idol?"

"Yuna, please don't do this...I can't cheat on my wife. We've been married for over 30 years."

"We met in this exact school. We are high-school sweethearts. She's the only woman I have ever been with."

"Well, time to add another one to the list, then..." Yuna said, lifting her school uniform and briefly flashing him her tits.

"Yuna, what the fuck!"

"C'mon, touch them. I know you want to."

Her teacher was unable to take his eyes off her small breasts, but he remained professional, and didn't reach out for them. In the end, it didn't really matter, because Yuna reached out to grab his right arm and placed his hand directly on her tits, forcing him to feel them.

"Yuna!!!"

"Shhhhhhhhhh." She said, by pressing her finger to his lips, forcing him to stay quiet.

"Here is what's going to happen..."

"You are going to pull out your cock, and I'm gonna suck it like the good little slut that I am."

"Afterwards, I'm going to let you use me as your anal slut and you're going to pound the shit out of my asshole until you paint my insides."

"And in return for giving you the best sex you will ever have, I want you to change my grade to A+."

"Do we have a deal...daddy?"

A hard cock in his pants combined with a handful of her tits plus the dirty talk...Yuna knew she had him on the palm of his hands, and he knew that too. It was physically impossible for him to resist Yuna and the chance to fuck one of the hottest K-Pop idols of all time, even though she was still only 18 years of age.

After a brief moment of silence and consideration, only three words left his mouth.

"Lock the door."

"Victory." Yuna thought to herself.

With a smile on her face, she turned around and did what she was told. After locking the door, she walked over back to him. She tried to lean in and kiss him, but he had other plans.

He spun Yuna around and pushed her against his desk, bending her over at a 90º angle. Her head was pressed sideways against the cold steel table, and despite wanting and needing this to happen, this wasn't in her bingo card.

"What are you doing, daddy?"

"I'm going to teach you a lesson."

"A lesson of what happens when cute little girls like you decide to behave like naughty dirty sluts." He added.

"Hmmm, well, you are my teacher, so...teach me. Teach me what happens to dirty sluts like me."

"You wanna know what happens, Yuna? They get punished, and that is what I'm going to do to you...I'm going to punish you for being a dirty slut."

"Hmmmm, okay...I like the sound of that. How are you going to do that?"

Her question went unanswered, with the professor opting to remain silent and let his actions speak for themselves. He grabbed her mini skirt and pulled it down slowly, watching her supple and round butt appear from under it, only made bigger and more inviting by her perfect wide hips.

"Pfffff...of course you're not wearing any panties...fucking slut..."

Yuna just smiled and waited for her punishment. In that position, Yuna thought she was in for a nice hard spanking coming from her professor, and her thoughts were confirmed when she saw him reach for a large wooden ruler on his desk, right next to where she was bent over.

With the 18-year-old folded in half over his table and her bare butt sticking out, he raised his right arm and started giving her some nice hard slaps across her buttcheeks, as a nice warm-up for what was about to go down.

"Slap me harder, daddy. I've been such a naughty student."

"Yeah...you have. Why did you stop studding? Your grades have fallen off a cliff this past couple of weeks." He responded, not only with his words, but also with a hard smack across her ass, leaving his handprint on her cheek.

"Fuckkk...I was too busy sucking cocks left, right, and center."

"You will not make it in this industry, Yuna. One day, people will find out how much of a slut you really are, and your career will be over."

"I don't care about the future...I care about the present...the now."

"I love being a naughty, dirty, slutty, cock hungry bitch. I love sucking cocks and getting fucked by guys with big dicks."

"And right now...I want that. I want you to punish me until you deem me worthy of your huge cock, daddy."

Lust had taken over Yuna's mind, and for her, this was no longer about her grades or her future. The only thing Yuna cared about was getting fucked and used by her teacher. Yuna wanted him to dominate her, and that is what he did. He grabbed her arms and put them behind her back before taking a few steps back and admiring his work. Yuna...the 18-year-old K-Pop idol...Itzy's maknae...bent over his desk wearing nothing but the school uniform, with her holes exposed for him and him only. The grin on his face said it all, and he was ready to put Yuna in her place.

He put the ruler in his hands and gave her a swift but not too hard slap. Yuna let out a soft moan once she felt the large wooden object hit her skin, and she smiled every time he spanked her with the ruler.

"Hit me harder, c'mon. Make me your slut." She said, shaking her butt from side to side.

Her teasing only made his cock throb against his pants even more, and if Yuna wanted it harder, she was going to get it. The professor pulled his arm further than before and began hitting her with his ruler. Yuna's cheeks shook with each spank and she bit her lip hard. She was enjoying the constant stinging sensation on her buttcheeks, and the handprint that was previously on her ass had been replaced by numerous red marks. However, unsurprisingly, she wanted more.

For a horny slut like Yuna, being butt naked and bent over a table whilst getting spanked in a classroom inside the fucking school was just simply wasn't enough for her. As for her professor, it was dreamland. He had easily the hottest girl in the school, half naked in front of him. That alone in any other scenario would be enough to send any man into a euphoric state, but Yuna wasn't any other girl...

She was an 'It Girl' of the K-Pop industry. Yuna was already so famous that it was practically impossible to step foot outside without seeing her face on a big ass billboard. To have someone that famous...that talented...that rich, right in front of you and at your mercy...it's something capable of turning any man into a lust-frenzied animal, and in this case it was no different.

Her teacher kept unleashing a barrage of spanks on her ass, and those were always met with the same word.

"Harder!"

Yuna was a complete masochist, and he fucking loved that. At the start, he was a bit afraid of hitting her hard, but now he wasn't holding back anymore. With each slap, the ruler left a nasty red mark, and the sounds of it hitting her ass echoed inside the classroom.

"HARDER!"

Yuna wasn't the only one taking a beating, as all this spanking was absolutely draining his energy, and Yuna could feel that because of the longer time between each hit. He took a step back for a little bit of a breather and admired the damage that he had done. Yuna's cheeks were so red that it was as if she had decided to tan only that part of her body.

"Do you want to spank me some more, or do you want to put your hard dick inside my mouth and make me choke on it?"

"S-Shut up...shut up and spread that asshole for me, slut." He said in between heavy breaths.

Yuna didn't waste any time and put her fingers between her asscheeks. As soon as her fingertips made contact with her skin, she felt just how much pain she was really in. It was going to be a long time before she could sit her sweet ass on any surface...

She was still eager to comply, so she grabbed her asscheeks once again and spread them wide, to give him the perfect view of her tight little hole.

"Take a good look, daddy."

"That's what you will be pounding in just a few minutes."

"I can't wait to feel that hard cock filling me up and stretching me out."

"I bet your wife doesn't even take it up the ass, now does she?"

The bare mention of his wife turned all that lust into pure rage. He didn't want to be in this situation to begin with, but Yuna gave him no other option, with how naughty she behaved and talked. Without saying a single word, he grabbed her hands and put them on the table before taking a few steps back.

Yuna was completely unaware of what her teacher was going to do. Her head was pressed sideways against the table, and all she could do was wait in anticipation. The professor held the wooden ruler with both of his hands, as if he was holding a baseball bat or a katana and lifted it above his head before smashing it against her right cheek with all his strength.

"FUCK, OH MY FUCKING GOD, FUCKKKKKKK!!!!!" She cried out.

He used so much power that the ruler broke in half once it made contact with Yuna's ass. Even he was in shock once he saw one piece of the ruler flying across the room and the other one still in his hands. Yuna was in complete pain, and she definitely bit off more than she could chew. It was safe to say that she learned her lesson. She had spent so many moments inside that classroom over the years, and yet, despite all the pain she was in, this was still by far her favourite moment of being there.

A short moment of silence settled in the classroom, with them realizing that they had both crossed the line in their lust for each other. Yuna slowly turned around and looked him in the eyes, with a painful look on her face. As for him, he had mixed feelings all over the place. He had just smashed a wooden ruler against his student's ass so hard that it broke in half!!! And it wasn't just any student, no...it was Yuna. Someone who could easily buy his whole house. Someone who made more money in two years than him in his entire career as a teacher. And to add to that, he had his wife in the back of his mind. Technically, he wasn't cheating on her...he still hadn't had sex with Yuna. He could stop right here and walk away, but his cock had a mind of its own, and he knew he couldn't resist Itzy's maknae any longer.

"Are...are you ready for your reward?"

"Yes, daddy. I've never been more ready for cock in my whole life. I'm so wet for you."

"I'm going to suck your cock so good, that you won't be able to think of anyone else." She added.

Yuna was treading through dangerous waters. She made sure to avoid his trigger word, but he knew very well what she meant by that. He shot her an unpleasant look, before moving on.

"Good. Then get down on your knees and open your fucking mouth."

Despite his order, there was no chance in hell Yuna could sit with how sore her ass was, so instead she just squatted and unbuckled his pants before pulling them down. A wide smile appeared on her face once she was finally had his big cock in front of her.

Her hands immediately latched onto it, but swatted them away, which brought out Yuna's puppy eyes. It was if someone had just taken away her favourite toy.

She wasn't left sad for too long though, as he placed his hand on the top of her head and started slapping her face with his big dick. Yuna stuck her tongue out after the first couple of slaps and happily let him use her face for his pleasure.

Yuna loved feeling his ridiculously hard cock hitting her face and tongue, and he knew it. And despite knowing how much she was enjoying herself, he knew what she really wanted, and he decided to make her beg for it.

"Tell me what you want, Yuna. Say it."

"Please, daddy...push your cock down my throat."

"That's not good enough!" He replied, slamming his fist on the table.

"Put that big dick in my mouth and make me take it like the slut that I am. I know I can give head way better than your lame, ugly wife."

"Oh, shut the fuck up and take my cock, you fucking slut." He said, grabbing her hair and forcing his cock down Yuna's throat.

Yuna knew exactly how to trigger him, and she got what she wanted from him...his cock right into the back of her throat. No going slow...no time to adjust...none of that bullshit. Just straight up intense facefuck from the very start.

The professor held her head and kept pounding away at her face, fucking her throat without any mercy. Yuna's jaw was forced wide open, and she couldn't help but gag around his length each time it went down her throat.

Her mouth was filled with cock and she had drool all over her chin. Spit was constantly leaking out of the corners of Yuna's mouth, despite her having her lips wrapped tightly around his cock.

The only thing that could be heard inside the classroom was the sound of his balls slapping her chin and Yuna's gagging. Her throat was being demolished by her teacher's dick, and yet, she didn't want to have it any other way. He kept on using her as his personal fleshlight for a while longer, until he decided to stop his thrusts into the back of her throat. However, instead of pulling out, he remained balls deep inside her throat, taking on the view that he knew he would surely only see once in his life...

He admired the bulge of his cock in her neck and how pretty she looked with his dick stuffed down her throat.

"You look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth, you know that?"

Yuna smiled around his length, which made a lot of saliva escape her mouth and drip down her chin before it landed on her school uniform.

"So this is why you failed in the final exam, huh? Turned 18 and discovered your true passion...acting like a slut, sucking dicks, getting fucked and draining big cocks, huh?" He asked, letting his cock slip out of her mouth.

Before Yuna could even answer, he started slapping her a few times with his cock, just to make a complete mess of her face. Yuna smiled and let him rub is dick all over her lips as much as he wanted, before finally coming to a stop and letting Itzy's starlet answer his question. "I can't lie...my music career is no longer my number one priority."

"All I really want these days is a nice fat cock to play with and drain as much as I want." She said, opening her mouth for him to stick his shaft back inside.

He was slow this time, just enjoying the way her lips felt every time he slid his dick past them. Yuna hummed around his length and made sure to match his movements by slowly bobbing her head back and forth on his cock.

"You love that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy. I love having dick in my mouth. I love sucking huge cocks like yours." She said, releasing him from her mouth.

"Then prove it. Show me how much you love this dick, Yuna."

His words had barely left his mouth, and Yuna already taking his cock inside hers. She started to bob her head up and down his cock rapidly, making loud slurping noises each time his dick went past her lips.

Yuna made sure not to leave an inch of his cock untouched. She ran her tongue all over his balls, coating them in her spit before popping them in her mouth and sucking on them, all whilst rapidly stroking his wet cock. She then licked the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip before pushing his cock back inside her mouth, where she immediately deepthroated his entire length over and over again, gagging and coughing all over it.

She kept was choking herself on his dick and her eyes became watery, but not once did she think about stopping or pulling away. Yuna's face was turning red with each passing second, but that wasn't going to stop her.

What did end up stopping Yuna was her insatiable thirst for having his cock deep inside her holes, and after a couple more deepthroats, she released him from her mouth with a loud pop before standing up and turning around.

"Are you ready to pound my asshole, daddy?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.

"Is that what you want, Yuna? To get fucked by your teacher?"

"Yes, I need it so badly! I want to be your naughty, slutty student, bent over your desk, waiting for her teacher's dick."

"I'm going to make you scream on my fucking cock." He whispered at her ear, before pushing her back down on the table, with her head against the cold steel surface.

Instead of going straight into the action, he decided to tease her just a little bit by running his finger up and down the length of her pussy lips. Yuna's juices were starting to drip down her legs, and her teacher used it to lube her asshole up, rubbing his fingers against her tight hole.

He then spat on his fingers and shoved three inside her asshole, basically giving her a signal that he wasn't here to play nice...Yuna was going to get it and she was going to get it hard.

Yuna let out a couple of moans once she felt his fingers enter her tight little bumhole. Her professor began pumping them in and out, stretching her as much as possible to prepare her for his big fat cock.

"You don't need to waste any time stretching me, daddy. I want your cock right now."

"I want you to break me in half, fill my tight little hole with your hot cum and claim my asshole for yourself."

Yuna's request was loud and obvious, and he was eager to give her what she wanted. He grabbed his cock and pressed it against her hole before slowly pushing his hips forward until his entire length was buried inside her tight butt.

"Oh god...fuckkkkk. That's just what I needed."

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head once she felt his whole shaft inside her, and once he slowly pulled back, Yuna knew it was about to go down.

The teacher thrust his hips inside her and began fucking her asshole. Not slow, not fast. Just the perfect pace, giving her the perfect amount of pain and pleasure without blowing his load so soon.

Her moans became slightly louder with each thrust, and they echoed inside the room. Yuna's breasts were pressed against the table, and her asscheeks jiggled every time his hips met hers.

It was practically heaven for Yuna, especially when she felt his balls slapping her pussy. The longer they went at it, the better and louder it got.

"Give me that cock. Just fuck me as hard as you can. I can take it, daddy."

"Who's a good slut for daddy's cock?" He asked, grabbing her hair with one hand and slapping her sore asscheeks with the other.

"I am, daddy! I'm your anal slut."

"I am nothing but a K-Pop idol that loves taking huge dicks up her ass!" She cried out, closing her eyes as he kept on pounding her tight hole.

Just like she had said it, Yuna was indeed his anal slut, and he loved it. Yuna's walls were squeezing him for all his worth, and he could feel the pressure building up. It was time to dump his thick load inside her asshole.

He held her hips tightly and increased his speed. If when he was spanking her earlier on, he made sure Yuna couldn't sit for a week, now he was making sure Yuna wouldn't be able to walk for a week. Yuna was being treated like an absolute fuckdoll, and she was moaning every step of the way. She curled her toes as she felt his cock splitting her open and stretching her butt, and it was becoming too much for her to handle, even for a total cumslut like Yuna.

"Oh, Yuna...I'm so fucking close."

"Fill my ass with cum, please."

His dick was going in and out of her ass as fast as he could, and with a young moaning mess like Yuna bent over in front of him, begging for cum, it was too much for him to handle and he ended up unloading a huge amount of cum inside the 18-year-old.

Almost immediately he slumped backwards, balancing himself on a student's table, and watched as Yuna remained in position, unable to move due to the pain.

"Ahhhhh, fuckkkk...daddy. So much fucking cum for me." She said, reaching for her ass and feeling the cum leak out from her butt.

She put a finger inside and collected some of his seed before bringing it to her mouth, where she unsurprisingly poured it on her tongue to taste it.

"Hmmmm...so warm and tasty. I could drink this all day long."

Tired and drained from this extracurricular activity, her teacher stood up and quickly picked up a pen before changing Yuna's exam grade.

"There, done. You got what you wanted. Now, please....leave my classroom."

"Oh, we are not done yet. I'm not leaving until I get my pussy fucked and my face covered in cum."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm not. Plus, I can see that your toy is still hard for me." Yuna said, making her teacher roll his eyes into the back of his head and sigh in disbelief.

"Don't you see how wet I am for you?" She added, grabbing his hand and making him touch her wet folds.

"You are fucking crazy, Yuna..."

Her teacher caved in and began voluntarily dipping his fingers inside Yuna's pussy as the two started making out with one another. The young starlet hummed into his mouth, and the older man explored the maknae's cunt. This lasted for a couple of minutes before Yuna's thirst for cock got the better of her.

"Your cock. My pussy. Now!"

"Is that what my cumslut princess wants?" He said, putting his thumb inside her mouth and making her suck on it.

Yuna shook her head up and down and slowly swirled her tongue around his finger. Her teacher smiled and told her to turn around and place her hands on the edge of his desk. The idol patiently awaited for his next move, and after a few seconds, she felt a pair of hands on her ass. It was still sore due to all the slapping that it had endured earlier on, and she let out a soft cry because of it.

Her whimper became a moan when the professor introduced his tongue inside her cunt and started lapping at her folds.

"Oh fuck, daddyyy, hmmm. Keep eating my pussy...just like that."

He feasted on Yuna's pussy like it was a goddamn buffet, constantly swirling his tongue inside it and tasting her juices before spitting in it. The deeper he shoved his tongue in Yuna's cunt, the louder she moaned. She shut her eyes and her mouth fell open as he kept working her over. The way he was going at it, it was only a matter of time before Yuna came, and she had zero intentions of letting that happen...the only way she was going to cum today, was with his cock buried in her young fertile pussy.

"I'm going to cum if you keep that up, daddy."

"And that's a bad thing because...?"

"I want you to do it with your cock, please."

"Fuck, you are such a greedy little cock slut." He said, standing up and slapping her ass one more time just for good measure.

Having sex with Yuna had drained so much energy from him, that he had to take a moment to grab a water bottle from his bag and take a sip, or else he might've had passed out inside her, not that Yuna would complain...she probably would've ridden his cock until he woke up a few hours later...

After several seconds, he made his way back to Yuna and grabbed her leg, putting it on top of the table. He had seen way too many fancams of her, so he knew she was flexible and could easily take his big white cock in this position. He grabbed his thick shaft and rubbed it all over her pussy lips, sliding it back and forth across her folds and coating it in her wetness, much to Yuna's annoyance, as she just wanted to get fucked hard and nothing else.

"What are you waiting for, daddy? Put it in and start fucking the shit out of me."

If it wasn't for Yuna begging for his cock like the absolute slut that she was, he swore that he could've spent hours just looking at Yuna in that position...a leg on the floor and another one on top of the desk, creating the most perfect 90º angle he had ever seen. Her holes were out and in full display, with some cum still dripping down her leg...she was impossible to resist.

Most people thought that Yuna was like the forbidden fruit...nobody could have her. Except, that very much wasn't the case. Any guy half decent looking and with a big cock could have a crack at her and her tight holes, and thankfully for her teacher, he was him.

After slapping her asscheeks with his hard shaft a couple more times, he pushed his cockhead past her cunt, and he watched how her tight teen pussy swallowed the entire length. Thankfully for him, it was no way near as tight as her ass, but even then, her pussy wasn't very far behind.

Yuna couldn't help but bite her lower lip as her teacher's cock stretched her walls out. She looked over her shoulder and watched him as he slowly began to pump his dick in and out of her tight pussy.

The face Yuna was making as she was getting her pussy pounded hard was so insanely sexy that he couldn't help but grab her hair and pull her in for a kiss. Yuna moaned into his mouth as he kept thrusting in and she couldn't wait for his second load of the day.

"Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock, Yuna."

He stopped kissing her and put a hand on the side of her neck to be able to watch her dead in the eyes. Yuna's mouth was wide open and her forehead was touching his. The two were so close to each other that the teacher could feel the heat irradiating from her body, but he wanted more. His hands moved to the bottom of her school uniform and he pulled it over her head, leaving Yuna only with her boots on.

Almost immediately, her breasts became the center of attention, as her professor couldn't keep his hands off them whilst he continued hammering away at Yuna's pussy. Her back was completely arched, and the position she found herself in was a testament to how insane her flexibility was. Yuna was made to be fucked...simple as that.

Everything about her was pornographic. Her gorgeous face, her insane body and her tight holes. She was perfect, from top to bottom, and she very much was a bottom. Yuna loved being a submissive slut for guys with big cocks, and with the constant pleasure of getting her pussy railed hard and fast by her teacher, combined with having his hands pinching her nipples, she couldn't hold any longer and came on his cock.

Her orgasm hit her so hard, that if it wasn't for him holding her in his arms, she would've fallen face first into his desk. Thankfully that didn't happen, and instead he kept fucking Yuna like there was no tomorrow, feeling his own orgasm approaching.

"You are such a fucking whore, you know that, right? Cumming on my cock like that."

"I know, daddy. I'm such a whore for big dicks. I love spreading my legs and letting guys use me however they like."

Her dirty talk was the final nail in the coffin, and he quickly pulled out and dragged Yuna onto her knees, where he started stroking his big dick and aiming it right at her face. Yuna wasted no time in sticking her tongue out whilst she rubbed her pussy like the good little slut that she was proud to be.

"Beg for it, Yuna. Tell me how much of a slut you are."

"I want your cum, daddy."

"I need you to cover my face with it and turn me into your personal cumdumpster."

He grinned from ear to ear and held her face close with one hand whilst he kept jerking off with the other until he finally shot his load all over Yuna's face, with some spurts going directly into her mouth. He took a few steps back and looked at the complete mess that he had done. Yuna's entire face was coated with his cum. Her cheeks, forehead, eyelids, nose, lips and even hair all had cum blasted on them.

Yuna giggled upon feeling so many warm spurts land on her face, and once she stopped feeling that pleasant sensation, she took his dick into her mouth to completely milk him dry out of every last drop.

Some of the cum on her face had started to drip down her chin and drop onto her tits when she released his girthy cock from her lips, and she wasted no time in collecting that same cum and pouring it in her mouth.

"Hmmm...just as tasty as the first time."

"Thank you so much, daddy."

"I love draining cocks dry, especially when they are massive like yours."

"The pleasure was all mine, Yuna...trust me."

Yuna smiled before standing up and picking up a tissue from her bag to clean up her face and try to be as presentable as one can be after being completely fucked for the past hour. As for her teacher, he put his clothes back on and watched the young starlet as she was fixing herself. Even though he looked at a naked Yuna dressing up, all he could think about was how on earth he had managed to have sex with an insanely hot and famous K-Pop idol, who practically threw herself at him.

"I should probably go." She said, grabbing her stuff.

"Hey, don't forget your exam...you deserve it, after...you know..."

"Thanks. I hope you had fun, daddy. And just remember...if you need your cock drained, or want me to be your little slutty student again, I'm all yours."

"My...my wife is out of town for the weekend, actually...if y-..."

"Say no more. I'm in!"

"Actually...I'm in as long as you promise me you'll fuck me where your wife sleeps."

"You fucking little slut....."

End of part 1

[flowersforbucky]

under my skin

john walker x reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: what first begins as a series of bad luck shows you a different side of the man who normally drives you crazy.

warnings/tags: a lot of banter, jealous walker, no use of y/n, forced close proximity trope, sprinkle of hurt/comfort, minor injury, kissing and suggestiveness, not explicit but mdni

author's note: if someone had told me a few years ago that i would be writing for john walker, i would have laughed in their face. but god, he was fun to write.

“We can take a break. If you need to.”

Walker snorts. He doesn’t even look down at you – just keeps trekking through the dense woods at the same brisk pace that he has been since he picked you up and carried out you of the old military base the two of you had been tasked with surveilling before you were ambushed and everything went to shit.

You've lost track of time at this point, but you know it's getting late by the way the golden hour sun filters through the trees.

“Thanks,” he huffs sarcastically. “But I don't need to take a break.”

He readjusts you in his arms, tightening his hold under your thighs and back. You wince at the movement, a sharp pain radiating from your injured knee. He glances down when you hiss, a brief flicker of concern in his eyes before his gaze is back on the trail ahead of you.

He's been carrying you bridal style for miles and has yet to break a sweat. Saying you’re uncomfortable would be putting it mildly – your busted knee is throbbing and your neck is aching from nonstop effort to resist resting your face against his chest. But you don’t dare complain – not when you know he’s likely still irritated with you for being a fuckin’ klutz and getting yourself injured.

You're on thin ice as it is. One more smart-ass remark and it wouldn’t surprise you if he sits you on a tree stump and leaves you to hobble back to the car on your one good leg.

“Besides,” he continues as he looks up to the sky. “We need to keep going. It’s going to start raining soon.”

“Rain?” You follow his gaze up to the sky. It’s mostly blocked by tree branches, but from what you can see, it’s perfectly sunny. “The weather report didn’t say anything about rain this morning.”

“Can't always trust the weather report,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I trust my senses. And I can smell that it's going to rain.”

You roll your eyes with exaggerated annoyance. “And what exactly, Mr. Military Man, does rain smell like?”

You’re just testing him. He makes it too fucking easy sometimes. Plus, you need some entertainment for the last portion of this walk. Why did he have to park so far away?

“It’s… you know, earthy. Musky,” he shrugs, jostling you in his arms again. “The smell is produced by a chemical reaction with plant oils and bacteria when there’s an increase in humidity and moisture. There’s a name for it. It’s called, uh...”

“Petrichor.” You finish his sentence, and then purse your lips to resist smirking as you look up at him in amusement.

He looks down at you, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yeah. That’s it. Petrichor.”

You find yourself staring at him for a split-second too long. “Maybe you’re smarter than you look, Walker,” you jab, trying to ignore the fact that you’d been thinking about how blue his eyes are in this lighting.

As soon as he opens his mouth to retort, a low clap of thunder rolls in the distance. You hear the pitter-patter of rain colliding against the canopy of branches above you a second before you feel the drops hit your skin.

“Shit!” you exclaim, futilely wiping the water off of your face with your arm that isn’t wrapped around his neck.

“Told you,” Walker grunts as he begins to increase his pace to a jog.

Despite the trees surrounding you acting as an umbrella, you’re both sopping wet within minutes. The rain starts as a drizzle and quickly turns into a downpour, soaking through your tactical suit. After what feels like an eternity, the red Jeep that you’d driven comes into view from where he had parked on a roadside pull-off at the edge of the woods.

He seamlessly opens the passenger side door and maneuvers you into your seat before running to the driver's side and hopping in.

“Jesus Christ,” you huff, as if you’re the one who just carried another human being through miles of woods during a thunderstorm. Walker turns the key in the ignition, violently shaking his head to rid his hair of some of the water dripping from his blond locks. The drops fly all over the leather interior of the rental car, and hit you in the face.

“What are you? A dog?” you groan, retrieving your cell phone from the glove box to call Yelena with an update.

“It’s not like you aren’t already sopping wet,” he snaps. “Now buckle up.”

You roll your eyes, only halfway paying attention to him as you scroll through your recent calls to find Yelena’s name. Just as you’re about to call her, he curses under his breath and leans over, reaching across you to yank your seat belt over your chest and lap, clicking it into the buckle.

You narrow your eyes at him, momentarily surprised. “That was unnecessary. All you had to do was say please.”

“Please stop making my job more difficult. How about that?”

“Good boy. Now, will you please drive?”

He stares at you, jaw clenched, and shifts into drive.

The two of you exchange only necessary words for the duration of the drive. You fill Yelena in on your current predicament – fucked up knee, drenched clothes, and a thunderstorm that is bordering on dangerous to drive in. She suggests getting motel rooms for the night and waiting until morning to catch a flight back to New York instead of traveling in such inclement conditions. Exhausted and uncomfortable, even you and Walker aren’t stubborn enough to put up much of an argument.

You're in a small town in northern Georgia – the kind of town that no one has heard of except for the thousand or so people that live there. One bank, one drugstore, a couple mom and pop diners, and yep, you guessed it – a singular small inn with a vacancy sign glowing in neon letters.

Walker parks as close as he can to the entrance, and then opens the door for you as you limp inside before going back out into the rain to get both his and your bags.

“Hi,” you greet the small, elderly woman behind the front desk. She looks up from her computer screen, eyes wide and brows raised when she takes in your wet, disheveled state. “I need to get two rooms for the night, please.”

She gives you a polite smile and nod before she starts clicking around the computer screen. Walker walks through the door a second later, a duffel bag on each arm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes, looking between the two of you. “We actually only have one room available right now.”

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip to resist the urge to curse out loud. Could one more thing go wrong today? What have you done to deserve such a string of bad luck?

There’s no other hotels within a ten mile radius, and this heavy rain isn’t safe to keep driving in. You’re wet, and tired, and your knee is screaming at you to lay the fuck down and ice it.

“Does the room have – is it – are there two beds?” You stutter out. Sharing a room with Walker isn’t ideal, but you figure you can cope if you have your own beds. He is uncharacteristically quiet beside you.

The woman, whose name tag reads Arlene, glances back down at the screen in front of her for a brief moment before looking back up at you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, dear. It’s only one bed. But it is a king…” she trails off, eyeing Walker up and down. “So there should be plenty of room.”

You exhale, brainstorming a solution to this predicament. One of you could take the room, and the other could sleep in the Jeep, you suppose. The backseat is pretty roomy…

“We’ll take it,” Walker tells her when you start to open your mouth. You look at him with furrowed brows. “What? I’m not driving anymore tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You don’t have the energy to protest. You pay for the room before you have the chance to overthink it.

It’s not like you haven’t shared rooms with your teammates before. Hell, you technically have shared a room with Walker before – Walker, and Yelena, and Ava. But never just Walker.

While you're relieved to have someplace dry and comfortable to sleep for the night, there’s a small part of you – a part deep in the pit of your stomach – that feels nervous. When it comes down to it, you trust John Walker with your life. But when faced with the realization that you're going to be sharing a bedroom with him, your thoughts flash back to being cradled against his chest for well over an hour.

You hate to admit it to yourself, but you didn’t exactly mind it. It felt secure. A little awkward at first, sure. But also safe.

And then there was the moment in the car when he took it upon himself to buckle your seatbelt. It should have pissed you off – he’s so damn bossy and impatient. It normally takes little to nothing for him to get under your skin.

Should have and normally being the key words.

You don’t know how to come to terms with the fact that it sent a rush of adrenaline through you. All you could think to do in that moment was deflect with sarcasm so that he wouldn’t pick up on the way you held your breath and your heart rate spiked at the small act of dominance.

You had every intention of catching a flight to New York and pushing those thoughts to the very back of your mind until you’re back home, where he will inevitably piss you off by leaving his dirty dishes in the sink or eating the last of your yogurts without asking you.

Instead, you’ll be spending the next twelve hours with him in a three hundred square foot room with only one bed while you attempt to not dwell on these sudden, unwelcome thoughts.

“I’m gonna go get some ice for your knee,” he announces as soon as you enter the room. He drops the duffel bags and his shield at the bottom of the bed as you begin to take off your combat boots. “There’s a diner right across the road. What do you want to eat?”

You shrug, slightly taken aback by the thoughtfulness. It dawns on you that the two of you haven’t eaten since before your flight this morning. “Oh, uh – just a burger and fries is fine. Or a salad. Or chicken sandwich. Thanks.”

He nods, not phased by your indecisiveness. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” you tell him as he starts to exit the room. “I’m just going to shower off really quick while you’re out.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning to look at you like you’ve grown a second head. “No, you're not.”

“What?” you snap. “What’s the problem?”

“You have a bum leg,” he retorts like it’s obvious. “You can barely walk. The last thing I need is you falling in the shower and cracking your head open while I’m not here. Just wait until I get back.”

So fucking bossy. But for some reason, it doesn’t annoy you as much as it typically would.

“Fine,” you huff. “Don’t get washed away by the storm. I’m starving and can't fend for myself right now, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, opening the door and rolling his eyes as he walks back into the motel hallway.

After the door clicks shut behind him, you take several deep, calming breaths. How dare you let yourself be flustered over Walker, of all people?

It’s a stretch to even call him your friend. Sure, the two of you technically live together. Go on morning runs together, and train together, and work together. Eat breakfast and dinner together most days, and spend a decent amount of free time together on your days off.

But you do all of those things with all of your teammates, too. None of them make you want to throttle their necks on a regular basis. So why is it that Walker has you so worked up?

All you know is that you need to get these wet clothes off of your body so that you can lay down without drenching the bed.

With your knee now swollen to the size of a softball, this proves to be a task that is easier said than done. You'd never admit it to him, but Walker is right – it’s probably smart that you don’t risk showering while he’s gone. You can’t put any pressure on your left leg and your balance is fucked.

Once you’re out of the wet tactical suit and changed into a pair of shorts and a crewneck sweatshirt, you finally plop down onto the bed and turn on the Roku television to find something to watch to pass the time. You prop an extra pillow beneath your knee to elevate it a bit, and silently wish that you had told Walker to stop by the Walgreens down the road to get you some ibuprofen.

You’re sure that he would if you’d just call or text him and ask, but you’ve already been quite an inconvenience today, and you don’t want to ask anything else of him right now. Maybe he has some in his duffel bag – though you highly doubt it, since super soldiers rarely have the need for over the counter pain relievers.

After losing track of time scrolling through movie titles on the TV, you select some generic looking action-comedy that you think is right up Walker’s alley. Checking the time on your phone, you realize that he’s been gone for quite a while. The diner is directly across the road from the motel, so you expected him to be back fairly quickly.

Maybe the diner is just busy? Sure, it's storming like crazy, but it is a Friday night and it’s one of the only restaurants in town.

Just when you open your and Walker’s message thread to send him a text and make sure he’s okay, you hear the beeping of a key card as it’s inserted and removed from the door lock. A second later, Walker enters the room with a few plastic bags, somehow even wetter than he was after your stroll through the forest just a little while ago.

You put your phone on the nightstand beside you, choosing to keep it to yourself that you were about to send him a message to check in on him.

Of course he’s okay. He’s a fucking super soldier. He can handle going across the road in a thunderstorm to get some food.

“Oh, hey,” he exclaims, looking at the movie playing on the TV. “I’ve been wanting to watch this.”

You can’t help but grin at the fact that you’d been right.

“Some schmuck forgot to log out of their Netflix account before they checked out.”

He passes one of the take-out bags to you. “One burger with fries and a side salad.”

You happily take the bag from him, your stomach growling at the smell of the greasy diner food.

“And,” he continues, reaching into a bag that you hadn’t noticed. “Some extra strength Tylenol.” He retrieves a small bottle from the bag and tosses it to you from where he stands at the foot of the bed.

“Oh,” you quip, catching the bottle. “Uh – thanks, Walker. I appreciate it.”

He gives an awkward shrug. “Can’t say I never did anything for you. Grabbed a few water bottles, too.”

You dig into your food in hopes that it will distract you from the way your stomach fluttered when you realized he had gone out of his way to get you the medicine – without you even asking.

It really isn’t a big deal. It’s a five dollar bottle of over the counter pills. But Walker doesn’t exactly go around anticipating the needs of others – especially not at the expense of his own convenience. Still, you know better than to read into it. You’re just tired and the events of today are clouding your judgment.

Clearly. That’s the only explanation for why you’re experiencing what can only be described as butterflies over John Walker.

Once you finish scarfing down your food, you cram the garbage back inside the take-out bag and force yourself into a standing position despite your body's protests. You desperately want to shower, even just to have a few minutes kind of alone with your thoughts.

Walker, still in the middle of eating his own burger at the small desk in front of the bed, turns his attention away from the movie and to you.

“I’m going to take a shower now,” you explain simply, grabbing your duffel bag before limping towards the bathroom on the other side of the small room. You pause at the door when you hear footsteps behind you, turning to face him.

“Are you wanting to join me? Or…?” You ask sarcastically.

“Jesus,” he huffs, taking a step back and throwing his hands up. His face flushes pink. “No. I'm just going to wait behind the door and make sure you get into the shower okay.”

You roll your eyes. “I promise I’m capable of getting in the shower.” You can tell by the hesitant look on his face that he isn’t convinced. “I’ll yell if I need anything. Okay? Sit down and finish your food.”

You step into the bathroom, shutting the door in his face as he tells you to be careful in an annoyed tone.

Holy hell. Has he always been such a mother hen?

No, there’s no way. You would have noticed it on any of the other dozen or so jobs that you’ve worked with him in the last few months. He’s being uncharacteristically protective and considerate, and despite the fact that there’s a small part of you that almost likes it, you don’t understand the sudden shift in behavior.

Once you’ve managed to get into the shower without any further injury, you stand beneath the scalding hot stream of water until your thoughts stop racing and your skin feels blistered.

••••••

By the time you finish your shower and post-shower routines, it’s just after eight o’clock. Walker retrieves some ice from the motel lobby and assembles a makeshift ice pack for your knee before going to take a shower himself.

You’re halfway paying attention to the fight sequence unfolding on the screen in front of you when he exits the bathroom in only a pair of black sweatpants. No shirt, hair dripping, and skin flushed pink from the heat of the shower.

Taken by surprise, your eyes freeze on him as he walks by you. Luckily, he doesn’t notice your gaze and you snap out of it before he turns to face you as he pulls a t-shirt from his bag and then yanks it over his head.

Six foot two and well over two hundred pounds of pure muscle – you’re not blind. He looks damn good, but you’re not about to let him know that you think so.

Fucker. There’s no way that was an accident. How does someone remember to take a pair of pants with them into the bathroom but somehow forget their shirt?

You bite your tongue, holding back the smart-ass comments that threaten to spill from your mouth. Something in your gut tells you that’s exactly how he’s hoping you’ll react, and you aren’t going to give him that satisfaction so easily.

“Are you ready to go to sleep? Or do you want to keep watching the movie?” You ask instead.

You’re ready to turn the lights off and pass the fuck out, but he'd been a good partner today, and only a fraction as annoying as he normally is, so you figure it won’t kill you to show a little consideration for his wants, too.

Maybe it's the tone of your voice or the look on your face, but he seems to pick up on the fact that you have no real desire to continue watching this movie.

“I’m beat.” He yawns dramatically, stretching for emphasis. “Carrying you for miles really wore me out.”

You grab the closest pillow to you and chuck it towards his head. “You know, I was going to offer to let you take the bed, but after that comment, I think I’ll stay right where I’m at.”

He catches it with ease and laughs as he tosses it to the ground, in between the bed and the motel door – directly beside you. He grabs a spare blanket that's folded at the bottom of the mattress and then sinks to his knees.

“I promise, I've had far worse sleeping conditions than this.”

You know he's just joking around, but something about the comment gets to you more than it should. All of the far worse places that he had to sleep during his time in the Army flash through your mind and make you feel a pang of guilt for hogging an entire king sized bed to yourself.

“What?” He asks, kneeling on the floor next to you. It hits you that you're just staring at him.

Before you can overthink it, the words are pouring from your mouth.

“Just get in the bed.”

“What?” He repeats, this time in bewilderment. He looks at you like he isn’t sure if he heard you correctly – or like you’re pulling a prank on him.

“You heard me,” you sigh, pressing the power button on the TV remote and turning it off. “This bed is huge. There's no sense in you sleeping on the cold, hard floor when you don't have to.”

His eyes flicker between you and the empty space on the bed beside you. “Are you sure? It's not that big of a deal. I can sleep on the flo—”

“John, get in the fucking bed.”

He closes his mouth, an indecipherable expression on his face. He hesitates for a second longer, and then stands up with the pillow that you'd thrown at him.

“Okay. Scoot over.”

“What?” you chuckle. “Why do I need to scoot over? Just take the other side.”

“Because I want to be closest to the door,” he says like it’s obvious. “In case someone tries to break in or something.”

You roll your eyes, reluctantly moving over to the empty space on the other side of the bed. You’re too tired to fight him on this one.

“How noble of you.”

He takes your place, slipping under the scratchy motel comforter and flipping the bedside table lamp off. The two of you are now encased in darkness – the only noise coming from a television playing in the neighboring room due to paper thin walls.

It’s silent for a moment, and you assume that you’re both going to drift to sleep without saying anything else, when he speaks into the darkness.

“You know, you called me John.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, though it’s too dark to see anything other than his silhouette. “Well, that is your name.”

“Yeah,” he replies after a loaded pause. “But you never call me John. You’ve only ever called me Walker.”

You purse your lips. He’s right – you don’t remember ever calling him by his first name in all the time that you’ve known him. Sometimes, it’s easy for you to forget that Walker isn’t actually his first name.

You exhale through your nose – something between a sigh and a laugh. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“No.” His voice rises an octave. The response comes quickly, like he didn’t think before speaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t mind it,” he murmurs, his voice returning to its normal cadence.

“Oh,” you whisper.

The silence that follows feels heavy. You’re both completely still. A loud clap of thunder booms, shaking the building and breaking whatever tension was lingering between you. You exhale a shaky breath, ignoring the way your heart is beating in your chest.

“Goodnight, John.”

••••••

When you open your eyes, the room is dark except for white flashes of lightning that creep through the cracks of the motel room’s curtains.

You feel groggy and disorientated, so you know that you couldn’t have been asleep for very long. With the way that the storm is raging outside, you quickly piece together that it was a loud clap of thunder or the violent screeching of wind that must have startled you awake.

Goosebumps decorate the exposed skin of your legs and you shiver, wrapping the cheap, thin comforter tighter around your frame.

There's movement from your left and you’re reminded that you aren’t alone in this bed.

“Storm knocked the power out,” he mutters, his voice raspy with sleep.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you groan. Your teeth chatter involuntarily.

He snorts. “It’s not that cold.”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff. “Not everyone has super soldier serum turning them into a human space heater.”

You can practically feel the warmth radiating off of his body despite the good foot or so of space in between you. In your half-awake state, you fight the urge to move closer to the only heat source in the room.

“Well, if I’m a human space heater…” He trails off. The bed creaks as he readjusts his position, turning on his side to face you. “I could, uh.. I could help warm you up. Just until the power comes back on,” he adds quickly.

The offer takes you by surprise. If you weren’t so cold, you’d probably burst into laughter. But you’re shivering too much to find anything funny right now. Why the hell did you only pack shorts to sleep in?

Oh, yeah. Because it's spring time, and you’re in Georgia. It shouldn’t be this cold right now. But thanks to the heavy rain and the motel’s lack of proper insulation, it feels like the middle of a New York winter night.

“Really?” you ask lamely. You feel dumb for even considering the offer.

“I mean…” You feel him shrug. “Yeah, why not? You’re cold, I’m warm. You did me a favor by letting me sleep in the bed, so…”

Cuddling with Walker. If your teammates found out, they’d never let either of you hear the end of it. You can hear Alexei’s teasing now.

“Or you can just be cold. I’m fine either way,” he adds when you’re quiet for a moment too long. He starts to turn in the opposite direction when you grab him by the shoulder.

“No, wait,” you mutter, embarrassment creeping over you at the realization of what you’re about to do. “Okay.”

He settles back down, this time laying with his back against the mattress. He extends his arm closest to you, a silent offer for you to tuck yourself between it and his side. Before you can overthink it any further, you close the distance between your bodies and press yourself against him.

Your head rests against his chest, and you throw your arm over his stomach. He wraps his arms around you without any hesitation, and you have to remind yourself to breathe. When you do, you let out a noise that can best be described as a sigh of contentment.

He’s even warmer than you'd imagined. You instantly stop caring about how weird this is and focus on the relief that his body heat provides.

“Jesus, you’re shaking like a leaf,” he murmurs. He runs a large hand up and down the side of your arm, warming you further with the friction.

You snort. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t lying about being cold just to snuggle you.”

“Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

You pinch him just below his ribcage in response to his teasing. His chest vibrates with silent laughter, but he doesn’t say anything else.

You're both fast asleep within minutes. The power comes back on at some point during the night, but you’re still entangled with each other when the sun pours through the curtains come morning time.

••••••

Neither of you mention your night in the small Georgia inn after checking out the next morning.

Not on the drive to the airport, or the flight back to New York, or at any point since returning home almost a month ago.

For the most part, things go back to normal between the two of you. You continue to work together, and train together, and banter persists as it usually does when your other teammates are present.

But more and more often you’re noticing that as soon as you find yourselves alone for more than a few minutes, John suddenly has every excuse to be elsewhere.

It’s not as if you used to spend all of your free time together – but the fact that he suddenly wants to take the stairs up to the twentieth floor of the Watchtower instead of taking the elevator with you is a little odd.

It doesn’t bother you at first. You think it’s weird, but why should you let it get to you? You weren’t exactly the best of friends to begin with.

Then, there starts to be moments that you find your thoughts drifting to him when they shouldn’t. When you get caught in the rain and you think back to how he looked with raindrops dripping from his hair and beard, and when you wake in the middle of the night and it’s a little too chilly and you remember how it felt to be pressed against him in the freezing motel room.

You’ll lie awake at night, wondering if he’s in his bed, directly across the hallway, thinking about the same thing as you.

It's fucking stupid.

Like right now – you’re all at a lavish gala, thrown in celebration of Sam Wilson’s Avengers and The New Avengers(z) coming together to form one big, happy super team.

There’s a full service bar, unlimited hors d’oeuvres, and good music – you should be having a good time.

Instead, you’re staring across the room at the back of a dumb blond super soldier’s head while a reporter attempts to ask you questions about who designed the dress you’re wearing.

“I’m so sorry,” you interrupt her. “I just remembered I have to… go to the bathroom. Will you please excuse me?”

You don’t wait for her to answer before you begin walking across the dance floor without a concrete idea as to what you’re going to say or do when you reach him.

“Hey,” you greet him casually. He turns to you at the sound of your voice, a look of mild surprise on his face. There’s a sudden, undeniable fluttering of butterflies in your stomach. He looks too handsome with his suit and tousled hair.

“Did you try the goat cheese and salami stuffed dates?”

Why that’s the question you decide to start off with, you don’t know.

“Uh – no,” he shakes his head, confusion taking over his features. “No, I guess I must have missed those.”

“That's too bad. They’re fucking delicious.”

He cocks a brow at you. “That’s good to know.”

Well, there goes your ice breaker.

It’s the longest conversation the two of you have had by yourselves in weeks, but there’s a level of awkward tension that you just don’t know how to shake – and it obviously isn’t going to go away on its own.

You toss the rest of your drink back before biting the bullet. “Can we, uh – do you mind if we go somewhere a little more quiet so that we can talk?”

As soon as you get the last word out, Valentina walks up and grabs you by the arm.

“There you are,” she says through gritted teeth. There’s a smile plastered across her face, but her voice gives away her irritation – at what, you never really know or care. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

You sigh, unable to hide your irritation at her timing. “What is it, Val?”

She fake laughs, waving to someone off in the distance. “John, would you be a dear and get me another drink while her and I have a short chat? Thanks so much.”

John's annoyance is palpable. He glares at Valentina with daggers, clenching his jaw as he storms off in the direction of the bar.

As soon as he’s out of ear shot, she turns to you. “I need a favor.”

You resist rolling your eyes in case there’s any cameras pointed in your direction at the moment. “I’m here, aren’t I? Is that not enough of a favor?”

She ignores your quip, pointing to where Sam, Joaquín Torres, and Bucky are mingling with a few random attendees.

“I need you to dance with him.”

“Dance? With Bucky? Why?” You sputter the words out, not expecting that to be her request.

“Not Bucky,” she shushes you, plucking your empty martini glass out of your hand. “The young, cute one in the middle.”

“Joaquín?” You exclaim. “I barely know him.”

You can count on one hand the number of conversations you’ve had with Joaquín. You have no problem with him – he's good at his job, a team player, and he’s enjoyable enough to be around. But the last thing on your mind right now is dancing with a man you hardly know.

“That’s the entire point of this whole thing.” She gestures dramatically to all of the people around you. “Bringing the two teams together. It’ll show people how well everyone is getting along. Ava has already agreed to have a dance with Sam.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble beneath your breath.

“I’ll give you an extra week of paid vacation days,” she offers before you can argue any further.

You know she isn’t going to let up. Valentina is nothing if not persistent. Truthfully, you just want her to leave you alone so that you can get on with your night – the extra paid time off is just a bonus.

“One dance and one dance only.”

You walk away from her before she can give you any half-assed words of gratitude.

On your way over to where Joaquín is talking to Bucky and the others, you glance around the crowded room for John. You don’t see him anywhere, and you can’t help but feel the slightest inkling of disappointment.

What would you say to him even if you did happen to run into him right now, anyway? Valentina is making me dance with Joaquín and I really hate dancing but for some reason I don’t think I’d mind it nearly as much if I was dancing with you?

Yeah, right. You’d probably just make awkward small talk about the fucking appetizers again.

You do your best to pretend that there's nothing else on your mind for the few minutes that you talk to Sam, Bucky, and Joaquín, but you can’t stop yourself from glancing around the room every other minute.

“Are you ready to give all of the reporters something super exciting to take pictures of?” You ask Joaquín as he guides you to the middle of the dance floor.

There’s a few other couples slow dancing to the live, classical piano music that fills the venue, so you shouldn’t stick out too much, but of course reporters start flocking around with their cameras when they see a member of the New Avengers(z) and the new Falcon slow dancing.

“Don’t be nervous,” he tells you as he takes one of your hands in his, placing the other on the small of your back. You lift your arm to his neck and begin following his slow, rhythmic steps to the music. “Sam and Ava are going to dance any minute now, and then all eyes will be on Captain America and the infamous Ghost.”

“Me? Nervous?” you scoff playfully. “I’m not nervous.”

“Could have fooled me,” he shrugs. “You looked like you might puke when Valentina first asked you.”

He guides you into a gentle spin, clearly far more experienced with all of this than you. When he does, you catch a brief glimpse on John. He’s standing several yards away with his hands in his pockets and a stoic expression on his face – looking right at you and Joaquín.

You nearly trip over your own foot, but Joaquín catches you and quickly gets you back on rhythm.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I hope you don't take it personally, because it's nothing against you. At all. Dancing just isn't my forte, and I've kind of… had a lot on my mind.”

He looks behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes with a curious smirk. “Would that happen to have something to do with why Walker is looking at me like he wants to bash my head in with his shield?”

“What?” you exclaim, nearly stumbling again. You have to resist the urge to look over your shoulder where John is standing. “Don’t be crazy. He… wouldn't do something like that again.”

Joaquín throws his head back in laughter. “I don’t know about that. I think he just might over you.”

You roll your eyes. “I think you just might be exaggerating.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs. At that exact moment, Sam and Ava begin dancing just a few feet away from you and Joaquín. All of the reporters suddenly lose interest in the two of you.

“Or maybe not. Only way for you to find out is to chase him down and ask him, I guess.”

“Chase him down?” you repeat, looking over your shoulder to see John walking directly towards an exit.

Shit.

“Go on,” Joaquín encourages. “I think it’s safe to say we have given Val the photo op that she was hoping for.”

You give his hand a grateful squeeze before letting go. “Thanks, Joaquín.”

You really fucking wish you weren’t wearing heels right now. As fast as you can without twisting an ankle, you make your way across the dance floor, heading straight towards the hallway that you saw John enter just a few seconds prior.

There's a voice in the back of your mind screaming that you don't even know what you’re going to say when you manage to catch up to him, but that doesn’t stop you from putting one foot in front of the other until his large frame comes into view.

“John!” You call. He stops right away, though he hesitates for a moment before turning to face you. His face is relatively expressionless, but there's tension in his jaw.

“You okay..?” You ask. “Where are you going?”

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I just need some fresh air. Is that okay?” He starts to walk away again, but you reach out and grab him by the hand.

“Is it okay if I come with you? I could use some fresh air, too.”

He pulls his hand out of your grasp – not violently, not harshly, but yet it still stings.

“You sure about that? I would hate to keep you from Torres for too long.” There’s a hint of venom in both his stare and tone. He starts to walk away again, and it takes you a moment to react.

Maybe Joaquín was right, after all.

His strides are long and quick. By the time you start walking after him, he’s already turning the corner of the hallway and out of your sight.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you mutter. You pause long enough to yank off the obnoxious stiletto heels that had been killing your feet since you’d taken your first steps in them tonight. With your shoes in hand, you all but sprint down the hallway after him.

The second that you turn the corner of the hallway, it feels as if you have collided with a brick wall.

A brick wall that smells like sandalwood and cedar.

“Jesus!” John exclaims, barely even stumbling when the front of your body slams into his back. “What the hell are you—”

“I like you,” you interrupt him. His mouth snaps shut, and his eyes go wide. The martini that you you’d finished earlier threatens to come back up, but you swallow and force yourself to continue.

“I like you, John,” you repeat, softer. “I was only dancing with Joaquín because Valentina told me to. I know things have been… weird, ever since Georgia. You can go back to avoiding me like the plague, if that’s what you want. I just needed you to hear—”

The next thing you know, his large, calloused hands are cradling your face and his lips are on yours.

It takes you a second to realize what is happening, but when you do, you're kissing him back like there’s no chance of an unsuspecting stranger walking down this hallway at any moment. You drop your shoes to the floor so that your hands are free to trail up his chest. You grip fistfuls of the satin material of his suit in your hands and pull him closer to you.

Without ever taking his lips off of yours, he backs you against the wall of the corridor. His tongue dances along your bottom lip and you open up for him, your brain turning to static white noise as he slips inside your mouth.

He tilts your head, deepening the kiss. He’s all you feel, smell, and taste – the two of you may as well be the only two people in this entire building right now. It's too easy to forget that you’re at a very public gala, and that any person with a camera could snap a picture of him pinning you against the wall and kissing you senseless.

You let out an involuntarily whimper into his mouth, and he pulls away as if it physically pains him to do so.

“The only reason I’ve been avoiding you like the plague,” he quotes your words, using the pad of his thumb to trace the swell of your bottom lip. “Is because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about doing that for the last month. Ever since you fell asleep with your head on my chest. Ever since I carried you through those woods…”

He trails off, leaning down to bring his lips to yours once more.

This kiss is slower – delicate and intentional in a way that the first one was not. As if he's trying to commit it all to memory. His hands rest on your hips, and yours in the short tufts of his hair.

“This is all I have wanted to do.”

“So…” you start with a nervous laugh. You smooth the fabric of his suit that you had bunched in your fists back to its original state. “You like me too, then..?”

He laughs, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, did I not make that obvious?”

“Nah. I think I need to hear you say it,” you hum.

He sighs, and then places another gentle, soft peck to your lips that ends sooner than you’d like. “I like you. You drive me crazy, but I like you so much that it hurts.”

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

thank you for reading!! comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💕🫶🏻

[ego13]

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤMINISKIRT ❘❙❚ feat. YU JIMIN

synopsis ࿐ Having found a rather prestigious job for yourself, you couldn't even imagine that your boss had her eye on you, taking advantage of your boyfriend's naivety

pairing ✳ yu jimin x fem!reader ✳ word count 9k+ ✳ setting ✳ buisness AU, buisnesswoman!yu jimin

warnings ࿐ cheating, reader has a boyfriend, jealousy, marking, freaky conversations, cunnilingus, kissing, body worship, cum eating, scissoring (kinda), switching, praise kink, eventual smut, sex toys, strap usage (r!recieving), missionary, cowgirl, doggy style, multiple orgasms, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, doll), semi-hard sex, sex in the water, clit stimulating.

playlist ✳ you won't be able to take your eyes off of me, don't stop me

Across the room, a glass wall separated the lobby from an expansive office.

Behind the desk stood a woman.

Yu Jimin.

You recognized her immediately.

"No, I don’t care what your logs say, I said check the handler before pushing it. How many times do I have to tell you — if you touch the server side without passing QA, you don’t wait for my damn permission. You just don’t do it!"

The man across from her, mid-30s, in a T-shirt and jeans, looked like he wanted to disappear.

"But Jimin-ssi, I thought—"

"Don’t think. Test. Revert the commit. Fix the loop. And tell Minseok to stop patching garbage into mainline before stand-up!"

You froze in the doorway, hesitant to interrupt. But just then, Jimin turned, probably catching your reflection in the glass.

She looked straight at you.

Her expression shifted instantly. The hard edge in her eyes melted, replaced by something more measured. Still alert, but… different.

"Out," she snapped without breaking eye contact. Her voice still firm — but directed entirely at the programmer.

"Y-yeah. Right. Sorry, sunbae," the man stammered, grabbing his laptop and nearly tripping over the chair as he left the office.

Jimin waited until the door clicked shut.

Then, her voice lowered, smoother, almost warm: "You’re the applicant, right? Come in."

You swallowed and stepped inside, forcing your shoulders back, your heartbeat suddenly louder in your ears.

She moved around to the front of her desk, one hand slipping into her pocket. She looked at you carefully — not in the judgmental way you expected, but like she was scanning for something specific. Noticing.

"I’m Yu Jimin," she said, holding your gaze. "Nice to meet you."

You stepped closer, bowed politely, then fumbled to pull your resume from your bag. Your fingers felt slightly stiff as you handed it over.

"Here’s my resume," you said, trying not to sound nervous.

She took it with one hand, flipping it open with practiced ease. She glanced down, eyes scanning the page, then back up at you. Her mouth tugged into a faint smile.

"You studied law," she noted. "Dongguk University?"

"Yes," you said, nodding once. "Graduated last year."

"Good." She looked you over again — gladly not in a disapproving way. Her eyes lingered a second longer than necessary before returning to the paper. "And you’ve got decent language certifications. Any actual office experience?"

You shifted your weight. "Just part-time admin work during school. Filing, basic scheduling. Nothing serious."

Yu hummed, closing the resume slowly. "I see."

Her eyes locked on yours again. "You’re pretty young. Most people applying here for assistant or analyst roles are already in their late thirties."

You nodded, unsure what to say.

She tilted her head slightly, the edge of her lip pulling upward. "But you look like the type that learns fast."

You blinked.

There was a moment of silence. Then she leaned against the edge of her desk, still facing you.

"Do people tell you you have a very… calm face? Like you don’t get flustered easily," she said.

"I—uh… not really," you replied, confused. "I'm actually flustered all the time."

That made her laugh, low and quick. "At least you're honest."

You felt your cheeks warm slightly.

Jimin tapped your resume against her palm, still watching you. "Do you mind if I ask something not on here?"

You shook your head. "No, go ahead."

"Are you single?"

You stared at her.

She smiled, unapologetic. "Sorry, that was inappropriate. You don’t have to answer that. Just — curious."

You forced a small laugh, unsure how to respond. "It’s okay. Uh… no, I have a boyfriend."

Her eyebrow arched slightly, but she let it hang there without commenting further. She set your resume down on the desk and crossed her arms.

"Alright," she said, her tone returning to something closer to professional. "I’ll be straight with you. The position I have open isn’t glamorous. It’s a mix of scheduling, document review, fielding calls, and sometimes dealing with my CTO’s bad temper."

You nodded. "I can handle that."

"I’m sure you can."

She pushed herself off the desk and walked back around to her chair, gesturing for you to sit in the one opposite.

"Let’s talk details, then."

"So, the position is technically 'executive assistant,'" she said, tapping a pen lightly on your resume. "But in reality, it’s a secretary role. Mostly supporting me directly."

You nodded. "That's fine. I don’t mind handling basic tasks."

"You’d manage my calendar, coordinate meetings, handle follow-up emails, and — occasionally — remind me to eat something before I collapse." She gave a small smirk. "It’s not the most thrilling job in the world, but I do value people who can keep things running."

"I understand. I’m organized. And I don’t mind repetitive work."

She tilted her head again, watching you.

"You strike me as someone who's careful. Neat handwriting, polite tone, dressed conservatively… very by-the-book." Her eyes scanned your outfit briefly. "Your boyfriend must like that about you."

You blinked, not expecting her to bring that back up. "I guess. I mean, we have our differences."

"Mm. He must be a lucky guy," she said casually, resting her chin on her hand. "Though personally, I find it a bit wasteful."

"Wasteful?"

She shrugged. "Letting someone like you spend your best years covering for a guy who plays games all day. If it were me, I wouldn’t let you leave the apartment in the morning without at least three compliments and a decent breakfast."

You didn’t know what to say to that. You gave a small, awkward smile, but looked away.

Jimin leaned back slightly, still watching. "Sorry. I’m being too forward again."

"It’s okay," you muttered. "I just didn’t expect this kind of interview."

"Neither did I," she said quietly, almost to herself.

There was a brief silence before she clicked her pen and returned to a neutral tone.

"Anyway. It's a full-time position. Nine to six, Monday to Friday. Sometimes later, depending on deadlines. Pay starts at 2.8 million won a month, plus lunch stipend, transportation allowance, and health coverage."

You nodded quickly. "That’s fair. More than I expected, honestly."

"Good." She paused, then added, "If you’re hired, you'll also need to sign a confidentiality agreement. We work with a few sensitive clients."

"That’s not a problem."

Jimin gave a small nod, then tapped your resume once more before setting it aside.

"I like you," she said plainly. "You seem grounded. Honest. A little too stiff maybe — but that can be unlearned."

You blinked again. "Thanks… I think."

"That was a compliment," she added, smirking, "Even if you have a boyfriend."

Your breath caught slightly. "You’re very direct."

"I don’t like wasting time."

Jimin’s fingers lingered at your waist just a second longer before she reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair from your face.

"You really shouldn’t be going home alone after drinking," she said quietly. "Even if it's just a couple glasses."

"I’m fine," you replied, your voice quieter now. "It’s just the subway, twenty minutes and I'm home."

She shook her head once. "No. I’d rather not risk it."

Before you could argue, she was already stepping away, reaching into her blazer pocket and pulling out her phone.

"I’ll call my driver. He’s downstairs. He can take you wherever you need to go."

You watched her, caught somewhere between flattered and confused. "Jimin, really, you don’t have to—"

"I know I don’t." She glanced at you again, her tone softer. "But I want to."

There was a pause while she tapped something out, then she looked up again.

"He’ll be out front in five. Black Genesis sedan. Plate ends in 78."

You exhaled slowly. "Okay… thanks."

She came closer again, standing in front of you but not too close this time.

"It’s nothing. You’ve had a long day, and you still managed to hold yourself together like a pro. Least I can do is make sure you get home safe."

You nodded, feeling your heartbeat still a little fast — not from the alcohol, but from her. From the way she looked at you like she actually saw you.

"Let me grab my things," you murmured.

She nodded once. "I’ll walk you out."

You picked up your bag, the warmth of the office still clinging to you as she opened the door. For a brief second before stepping into the hallway, you glanced back at her — still half in disbelief that a woman like her was showing this kind of attention. And care.

Jimin caught your glance and gave you a small smile. "Let’s go."

The elevator ride down was quiet, but not uncomfortable. She stood beside you, hands in her pockets, glancing over once or twice but saying nothing.

As the elevator doors opened in the lobby, the driver was already visible through the glass doors outside, standing next to a sleek black Genesis parked at the curb.

You stepped forward, but Jimin suddenly reached out and took your bag from your shoulder.

"Hey—"

She shook her head. "You’ve had enough on your back today," she said simply. "Let me."

You blinked at her. "It’s really not that heavy—"

"I didn’t say it was." She slung the strap over her own shoulder, ignoring your protest. "I just don’t want you carrying it."

You gave her a look, but didn’t argue again. There was something firm but not aggressive in her tone — like she didn’t see it as a favor, just a given.

The driver opened the back door as the two of you approached. Jimin handed off the bag to him gently. Then she turned to you.

"He knows where to take you. I texted him your address already."

You stared at her. "Jimin, you’re... really something else, you know that?"

Her smile was slow. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

You climbed into the backseat. Before you could close the door, Jimin leaned down slightly, just outside the frame.

"Text me when you get home. Just so I know."

You nodded. "Okay."

She paused for a second, then added, "And try to get some sleep. Tomorrow might be your first day, if you’re still interested."

You couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah. I am."

With that, she stepped back, and the driver closed the door.

The car pulled up in front of the apartment building just as the sky started to turn that soft grey before sunset. The driver stepped out and came around to your side, opening the door with a quiet, "Miss, we're here."

You nodded, thanking him softly as he helped you out. The black Genesis looked completely out of place on your quiet street. As you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, you noticed Yunho standing at the front gate, leaning on the railing with a familiar scowl.

His eyes were locked on the car, then shifted to the driver, then to you.

You didn’t say anything as you walked past him toward the building entrance. He walked behind you.

"Nice ride," he muttered, the sarcasm already thick in his voice.

You kept walking, trying to keep your expression neutral. But by the time you unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside, you could already hear the frustration in his voice building up behind you.

"So who the hell was that?"

You dropped your bag, taking off your shoes. "My new boss’s driver. She didn’t want me going home alone after drinks."

"She?" Yunho raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "And she just sends a luxury car like you're some damn CEO?"

You looked over your shoulder. "What’s your problem?"

"My problem?" he snapped. "You show up in a car that costs more than this building, some guy opening your door like you’re royalty, and you don’t even think to explain?"

You turned to face him fully now, jaw tight. "Because I didn’t think I had to explain basic decency. It was a job interview. A good one. With a woman who actually take their work seriously."

His eyes narrowed. "And what? You’re suddenly impressed with her because she got money and fancy cars?"

"No," you said sharply. "Because she work. She built something. She do more than sit around playing League all day waiting for a miracle that’s not coming."

That hit. He flinched slightly, but recovered with bitterness.

"So now I’m the loser again."

"I didn’t say that," you replied, even though the words were hanging in the air.

"Yeah, but you didn’t need to." He scoffed. "Guess it’s easy to look down on me now that you’ve had drinks with billionaires."

You sighed. "I’m tired, Yunho. I’ve been tired for a long time. I just want a future that isn’t built on excuses."

He didn’t reply.

You picked up your bag again and walked into the bedroom, needing to be alone. For a moment, you considered texting Jimin like she asked.

But instead, you sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, thinking about how quickly everything could change — and whether you'd be brave enough to let it.

You stood by the bed, pulling an old hoodie over your tank top, when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You glanced at the screen. Yu Jimin.

It was already past 10 p.m. You hesitated for a second — normal people didn’t call at this hour for anything work-related — but you still picked it up.

"Hello?"

There was a pause, then her voice came through, low and smooth, a little rough like she’d either been drinking something warm or was just naturally that way late at night.

"Hey. I hope I’m not bothering you."

You sat down on the edge of the bed again. "No. Just got home a while ago."

Another pause, lighter this time. "Did my driver get you home okay?"

"Yeah, he was polite. Thank you again."

"Mmh," she hummed. "I told him not to be too polite. I wanted to be the one to spoil you."

You exhaled through a short laugh, not sure how to respond to that.

There was a rustling sound on her end, like she was leaning back into a couch or bed. Then she asked, softly, "How are you feeling?"

You blinked. It wasn’t a usual question — not when coming from someone you barely met a few hours ago. But it was genuine. You could tell.

"A little overwhelmed, honestly. But... not in a bad way."

"I figured," Jimin said. "It was a long day. But you did well. I meant it when I said I want you on the team."

You nodded slowly, even though she couldn’t see it.

"And," she continued, voice still smooth, "I have a business trip. Paris. Airplane. Tomorrow. Boring tech meeting with men who’ll repeat the same pitch three different ways. I’m supposed to attend... but I don’t really want to go alone."

You sat up straighter. "You want me to come with you?"

Jimin chuckled softly. "Well, officially, I’ll say I need a secretary with me. You know, someone to help coordinate meetings and smile politely."

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially, I just want to look across the table and see you there so I don’t fall asleep."

You didn’t know what to say. You stared at the floor for a moment, then bit your lip. "You’re really asking me to fly to Paris with you?"

"Yes," she said simply. "One night in a suite, nice food, we come back after the meeting. Think of it as a trial run for the job. Or... just an excuse to get to know each other better."

You looked over toward the closed door of the living room where Yunho had gone quiet. Then back down at your phone.

"Okay," you said, quietly but firmly. "I’ll go."

There was silence for half a beat. Then a pleased hum on the other end. "Good girl."

Your cheeks flushed.

"I’ll have my assistant book everything," she added, voice softening again. "Just bring yourself."

"Thanks for the invitation," you said, letting your voice drop just a little, a teasing edge slipping in. "I'll try not to embarrass you in Paris."

Jimin laughed on the other end. "I’m counting on you to distract everyone, actually."

You bit your lip, smiling to yourself. "Then I’ll pack something nice."

"You better."

The line went quiet after that, and you set your phone down on the nightstand, heart still beating a little faster than usual. You stood up, ran a hand through your hair, then walked to the closet.

You opened the suitcase you hadn’t used in over a year, dragging it out from the bottom shelf. It was a little dusty. You unzipped it, already thinking through what you’d need.

You were halfway through folding a shirt when Yunho's voice came from the doorway behind you.

"What the hell are you doing?"

You didn’t turn around right away. Just kept folding the shirt, slower this time. "Packing."

He scoffed. "No shit. Where are you going?"

"Paris. For work."

You heard his footstep into the room. "With who? That fancy company that sent you home in a private car like you’re some VIP?"

You turned around now, meeting his gaze. He looked like he hadn’t moved from the couch since you left.

"Yes," you said flatly. "YJ Group. My boss invited me to go with her for a meeting. It's work."

He stared at you, then laughed once, sarcastically. "Your boss. Yeah, I bet."

You crossed your arms. "You wanna do this now?"

"You're really just gonna run off with some rich stranger because she gave you a ride in a nice car?"

You stepped around the suitcase. "No, I'm going because she offered me a job. A real job. Something you haven't bothered to look for in months."

"That's low."

"No," you said, pointing at him now, "what's low is sitting on your ass every day, gaming with your friends, pretending you're gonna magically become some pro player while I'm the one stressing about rent, bills, everything."

He was quiet. Not because you’d gone too far—because you hadn’t.

You turned back to the suitcase. "I’m going. You don’t have to like it."

He stood there for a second longer, jaw tight. Then he turned and walked out.

You zipped the suitcase closed.

You lay down on the bed with your suitcase closed and standing near the door, ready. The apartment was quiet now.

You stared up at the ceiling, the dim light from the hallway spilling in just enough to make out the outline of the fan above.

Everything still felt a bit surreal.

Just yesterday, you'd been checking job boards with zero leads and zero hope. Now, you were flying to Paris with the founder of one of the most talked-about tech companies in the country. And not just flying — invited. Personally, not just email that her assistant would sent her. For "business."

But it wasn’t just the job that occupied your thoughts.

It was Jimin.

Her voice still echoed in your head—calm, smooth, slightly rough like she’d been talking all day, but always careful when she spoke to you. The way her eyes had lingered when you first walked into the office. The casual touch at your waist.

You exhaled slowly and turned to your side, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

It was insane. She was your boss. You had a boyfriend — barely. But still.

And yet, your last thought before falling asleep wasn’t about Yunho, or your resume, or the meeting ahead.

It was about her.

What it would feel like to sit beside her on the plane?

To hear her laugh in person again?

To see what she looked like outside the damn office — off guard, relaxed.

Then, eyes slowly closed.

You woke up to the weight of an arm around your waist and the faint heat of breath against the back of your neck.

Then realization hit you — Yunho.

His arm was draped lazily over you like nothing had happened last night. Like he hadn’t stood in the doorway accusing you of sleeping your way into a promotion. Like he hadn’t sat around for months doing nothing while you scrambled to hold everything together.

You stared at the wall for a long moment. His touch didn’t feel comforting. It felt heavy. Clingy. Like something that used to mean safety but now just made your skin crawl.

Carefully, you slid your hand under his wrist and lifted his arm off you. He stirred but didn’t wake. You sat up slowly, then swung your legs over the side of the bed.

You didn’t look back.

The floor was cold under your feet as you walked to the bathroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. You turned on the light, squinting for a second, then faced yourself in the mirror.

You turned on the tap and splashed cold water on your face. It shocked you awake, and for a moment you just stood there, dripping, palms braced on the sink.

You stepped out of the bathroom, towel still draped around your shoulders, when your phone buzzed on the dresser. You picked it up, half expecting a message — but instead, Jimin’s name lit up the screen.

You hesitated, then answered.

"Hello?"

Her voice came through smooth and unhurried. "Morning. I’m downstairs."

You blinked. "Wait—what?"

"I figured we could go to the airport together," she said casually, then added, a hint of playfulness creeping into her voice, "Is that a problem?"

You glanced down at yourself — damp hair, still in your robe, your suitcase half-zipped on the floor.

"I’m not ready. At all," you admitted, pressing the phone between your shoulder and ear as you reached for the blow dryer. "You should’ve told me you were coming."

"Wanted to surprise you," Jimin said, a low chuckle in her throat. "But I don’t mind waiting. Take your time. I just wanted to see your face this morning."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile pulling at your lips. "Give me ten minutes. Fifteen tops."

"I’ll be right here," she said. "Take your time, seriously. I’ll just sit here, imagine what you look like all flustered and running around in a towel."

You flushed despite yourself. "Goodbye, Jimin."

You dressed quickly but carefully — nothing over the top, just a clean blouse, black slacks and a light jacket.

Before you left, you stood for a moment in the doorway of the bedroom.

Yunho was still asleep, sprawled across the bed like he hadn’t moved since you left it. The blankets were tangled around his legs, one arm hanging over the edge. Peaceful, useless, oblivious.

You didn’t feel angry anymore. Just... done.

You closed the door behind you quietly, pulling the handle until you heard the latch click.

The elevator ride down was silent. Just the hum of the old motor and the dull flicker of fluorescent lights. Then the doors opened — and there she was.

Jimin stood beside a sleek, black Genesis G90, parked right in front of the building like it belonged there. She was dressed sharptailored slacks, an expensive-looking trench coat, sunglasses pushed up on her head — and in her hand, a small bouquet of red roses.

You blinked.

She smiled as you stepped out into the morning air. "For you," she said, holding the flowers out. "Don’t read into it. I just thought they’d suit you."

You hesitated, then took them. "Thanks... You didn’t have to do that."

"Maybe not," she replied with a slight smirk, "but I wanted to."

She opened the car door for you herself, like it was nothing, like it was natural. You slipped in, setting the flowers gently on your lap as the driver closed the trunk on your suitcase and moved around to the front.

Jimin got in next to you, and just before the car pulled away from the curb, she looked over at you.

"You look so good, by the way," she said, tone casual — but there was something behind her eyes that made your skin feel warm. "Worth the wait."

You tried not to smile too much. "You’re not so bad yourself."

You shifted slightly in your seat, the bouquet of roses still resting in your lap, their scent faint but sweet.

Her eyes kept drifting — casually at first, but then less so.

"You really do look good today," she said suddenly, her voice low but clear. "It’s not just polite small talk. I mean it."

You glanced at her, trying not to seem caught off guard. "Thanks. I tried to look presentable."

"It’s more than that," she replied, resting her arm along the door. "You’ve got this... natural thing going. Like you’re not even trying, but you walk in and somehow turn all the attention to you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure the attention’s on you. You're the one with the billion-won company."

She gave a short laugh. "Business is boring. People like to act impressed, but it's just money. you, though—" she paused, letting her eyes linger on you for just a second longer than was casual, "—you're interesting."

You looked out the window for a moment, heartbeat steady but quick. "You don’t even know me that well."

"Not yet," she said, tone playful, but not joking, "we will have time in Paris to get to know each other... better."

Silence settled between you for a few seconds, comfortable, not awkward.

Jimin reached into the center console and pulled out a small bottle of water, handing it to you. "Drink it. I don’t want you passing out on the plane. That would ruin the vibe."

You accepted it, chuckling under your breath. "Thanks, boss."

"Call me Jimin," she said smoothly. "We're not in the office now."

You glanced at her again, and she gave you a look that lingered a little too long to be just friendly.

The car sped on toward the airport, and for the first time in a while, you felt a kind of nervousness you didn't mind at all.

At the curb outside the airport, the car eased to a stop. You could even think to move, Jimin was already circling around the car.

"I’ve got it," she said, reaching into the trunk herself and grabbing both your suitcase and hers without hesitation, by that time one of her attendants approached her.

She waved off the him, who looked like he was about to protest. "It’s fine. I don’t want her carrying anything."

You blinked, a little surprised. "Jimin, I can carry my own bag."

She turned her head slightly, giving you that half-smile she seemed to reserve just for moments like this. "And yet, I’d rather do it. Come on."

With both bags in hand, she walked with confident strides toward the sliding glass doors of the terminal. You followed a half-step behind, feeling the stares from a few passersby.

Inside, she made a direct line for the business check-in counter, bypassing the lines entirely. An attendant spotted her immediately and motioned her forward.

"Miss Yu," the woman said politely with a quick bow. "We’ve been expecting you. Everything is ready."

Jimin nodded, setting the bags down gently and placing her ID on the counter. "And my guest. She’s with me."

The attendant looked at you, then smiled and gave another respectful nod. "Of course. Right away."

You shifted awkwardly beside Jimin as they processed the check-in. She glanced sideways at you and leaned in just slightly.

"Relax, doll," she murmured, "this part’s the easiest. No pressure. Just stick with me."

You gave a small nod, trying not to seem out of place in the well-dressed, fast-paced atmosphere.

Within a few minutes, the boarding passes were printed, the luggage tagged and taken, and the attendant was handing back her documents with both hands.

"Enjoy your flight, Miss Yu."

She took the passes and handed yours to you before gently guiding you toward the private security lane.

"You’re handling this pretty well," she said quietly, almost teasingly. "Some people get overwhelmed on their first trip with me."

You smirked, walking beside her. "I guess I’m just built different."

Jimin glanced at you with a faint smile.

The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal speakers, and you followed Jimin toward the gate, your steps slowing a little as the walkway to the plane came into view.

The faint rumble of jet engines outside was louder than you remembered. It had been years since you’d last flown—and never on something this fancy.

You stopped short just before the boarding agent could scan your pass, your grip tightening slightly around the paper ticket.

Jimin, already a few steps ahead, turned immediately when she realized you weren’t beside her. Her eyes flicked to your face, catching the hesitation.

Without a word, she passed both her designer travel bag and yours to the tall, suited man who had been trailing them silently since the car — her bodyguard, walked right back to you.

She didn’t ask anything. Didn’t say a word at first.

Then, to your surprise, she crouched down on one knee in front of you, her hands reaching up to gently take yours.

"Hey," she said, voice low and calm, eyes level with yours, "you okay?"

You swallowed and gave a small nod, trying to play it off. "I just… haven’t flown in a long time. It’s stupid, I know."

"Not stupid." She squeezed your hands lightly. "You’re stepping into something new. That always messes with your head a bit."

You glanced around, a little embarrassed, but no one seemed to care. The gate agent gave you space, and the few people nearby looked away politely.

Jimin tilted her head. "Want me to say something comforting?"

You nodded hesitantly.

She paused, pretending to think hard, then gave you a crooked grin. "Okay. Deep breath. Ready?"

You nodded again.

"I have absolutely no idea how to calm down scared girls," she said, straight-faced. "But you're cute when you're nervous, so I’m just going to stay here until you feel better. Is that working?"

You let out a shaky laugh despite yourself, the tension easing slightly.

"Kind of."

"Kind of is good enough," she said, then stood smoothly, brushing imaginary dust from her slacks. She didn’t let go of your hand. "Come on. I’ll sit next to you the whole way. And if you get scared mid-air, I promise not to make fun of you more than twice."

You rolled your eyes but followed her, finally stepping through the gate and onto the plane.

Inside the private jet, everything looked more like a high-end hotel lounge than anything that should be airborne.

You sank into one of the cream-colored seats next to Jimin, still holding onto the remnants of your earlier nerves, though they were steadily being replaced by a sense of disbelief.

The flight attendant, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy uniform, approached with a polite smile and handed each of you a thick, high-quality menu. All of it — every single item — was printed in French.

You stared at the page, trying to make sense of the cursive typography, but gave up after the third item. "I have no idea what any of this means," you muttered.

Jimin peeked at your menu, then gave you a teasing look. "You mean you didn’t study fine dining terms in law school?"

You rolled your eyes. "Sorry, no. We barely got through Latin."

She chuckled, flipping open her own menu. "Alright, let’s see. 'Foie gras' — that’s duck liver, but like… the fancy kind. And this one — 'homard rôti' — that’s roasted lobster. Worth trying."

You nodded slowly, trying to keep up.

"'Velouté de cèpes' — mushroom soup, but the expensive type. And this one…" She pointed to a long line near the bottom, "'Chocolat noir aux épices douces' — dark chocolate dessert with sweet spices. Probably the best thing here."

"So basically everything costs more because it sounds better in French," you joked.

Jimin grinned, leaning a little closer to you, her shoulder brushing yours. "Exactly. But don’t worry, I’ll order for you. I’ll make sure you don’t accidentally end up with something raw and moving."

You laughed quietly, grateful for the way she made this all feel less overwhelming.

The low hum of the jet was oddly calming. You sat back in the wide leather seat, feeling the unfamiliar weight of luxury around you. Across from you, Jimin was already speaking smoothly in French to the flight attendant, her tone casual but confident.

"Deux portions de filet de bar avec légumes grillés. Une salade niçoise. Et... la bouteille de Dom Pérignon, 2013, s’il vous plaît."

«Two portions of sea bass fillet with grilled vegetables. A Niçoise salad. And... the bottle of Dom Pérignon, 2013, please.»

The attendant nodded and disappeared quietly into the galley.

Jimin turned her attention back to you, crossing one leg over the other. Her eyes rested on you for a moment before she spoke.

"So," she said, lightly. "How did your boyfriend take the news?"

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Not well."

Jimin tilted her head. "Predictable."

You let out a breath. "He didn’t understand. Just saw the car. Assumed the worst."

"Typical," Jimin muttered, her voice dry. "You know..." She leaned in just a bit, elbows on her knees. "Someone like you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like that."

You looked up, unsure how to respond.

She continued, "You’re smart. Gorgeous. Trying to build something for yourself. And he? He’s waiting to ‘make it’ in a video game while you carry the weight of both your futures."

You glanced down at your phone, buzzing silently on the armrest. Yunho.

You stared at his name for a second. No message, just the call.

Then, without a word, you tapped the airplane icon on the screen. The signal vanished.

Jimin watched quietly as you set the phone down, face down.

You looked up again, managing a faint smile.

"Good," she said softly. Then she poured two glasses of champagne and handed you one.

“To new beginnings.”

The attendant returned with their meals, placing the plates down on the small table between you and Jimin. The smell hit you first — fresh, delicate, not overly seasoned. Just… clean. Refined.

You picked up your fork, carefully cutting off a small piece of the sea bass fillet. The texture was soft but held together well, and as soon as you took a bite, your eyes widened slightly.

"Oh my god," you said, surprised. "I’ve never tasted anything like this."

She smiled behind her glass as she took another sip of champagne. "It’s line-caught Mediterranean sea bass. Very light. They cook it at just the right temp so it doesn’t lose moisture."

You looked at her, fork halfway to your mouth again.

"Some of the Michelin kitchens I’ve been to," she continued casually, “they poach it gently in olive oil, sometimes with a touch of citrus and white wine. But this one’s grilled. Clean, simple. No heavy sauces to cover the flavor.”

You chewed slowly, appreciating it more with every bite. "I didn’t know fish could taste like this," you muttered, almost to yourself.

She grinned. "You’d be surprised what food is like when people care about the details. When it’s not just… whatever’s cheap and fast."

You nodded quietly, sipping your champagne. Even that tasted better than you expected — sharp and crisp, but soft as it went down. You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the company, but your shoulders had started to relax.

Jimin didn’t push the conversation. She just sat with you, eating slowly, saying little, glancing over at you now and then with that slight, unreadable smile.

You arrived in Paris late in the evening. The hotel room was spacious and modern, with a large window framing a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower glowing softly in the distance.

Jimin was busy unpacking her things — carefully folding clothes, setting them neatly on the dresser. You stood by the window, staring out at the city, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.

Noticing you, Jimin paused and smiled faintly. She stepped behind you quietly and, almost without thinking, wrapped her arms gently around your waist.

You stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into her hold.

She leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Not used to views like this, huh?"

You glanced back at her, managing a small smile. "No, not really."

She stayed close, the city lights reflecting softly in her eyes. "Good. Then maybe it’s time you got used to better things."

Her hands slid to your shoulders, gently kneading the tense muscles, causing you to sigh in relaxation, leaning slightly against her. "Would you like me to run a jacuzzi for you?"

You didn't say anything, just nodded silently, after which you felt the absence of her hands on your body, which made you slightly disappointed, but you didn't have to wait long. Ten minutes later she returned to you, smiling warmly and taking your hand, "come on, I will take care of you tonight."

At the corner of the bathroom stood a massive, sunken jacuzzi tub, already filled with steaming, bubbling water. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted through the air, the soothing aroma of the essential oils she had added to the water.

"Sweetheart, let me help you get undressed," she offered, but her hands already working on the buttons of your shirt. She took her time, her fingers brushing against your skin with every button she undid, savoring the feel of her soft flesh against her fingertips.

She slid it off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Leaned down, letting you to take all chances to pull back, but as she understood that you had no intention to back off, she captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss as her hands reached behind to unhook your bra. She let it fall away, breaking the kiss to toss it aside carelessly.

"You're so fucking beautiful, doll," she breathed, reaching out to trail her fingertips along the swell of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in her palms. "I could spend hours just looking at you."

She took your hand gently, helping you into the warm water, the way the water touched your tense shoulders made you close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of your aching muscles relaxing.

Opening your eyes, you saw Jimin slowly unbuttoning her pants, letting them slide down her long, skinny legs, before sending the outerwear down the same path to the floor. Stepping over the edge of the jacuzzi, she carefully appeared behind you, the steam rising around her as she settled into the water.

She pulled your back against her chest, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Come here, doll," she cooed, holding you close as she leaned back against the built-in cushion of the tub.

She could feel you against her, melting into her arms as the warm water soothed you. Her arms began to gently rub your shoulders, fingers working out any lingering tension.

As she massaged sore muscles, she pressed gentle kisses along the side of your neck, her lips lingering on the smooth skin. "You're so tense, baby. Let me help you relax," she cooed, her hands sliding up to your neck to knead the knots there.

Again. Hands slid lower, tracing the curve of your spine before coming to rest on your hips, gripping them gently. "You know, you have such a beautiful back," she murmured, her lips brushing against your shoulder blade. "I swear, I could spend hours exploring it."

Her fingers began to knead the muscles of you lower back, working out any remaining tension. She could feel the way your body body growing heavy and relaxed, melting. "That's my good girl," Jimin praised, her voice a low, intimate rumble. "Can you just let yourself go, sweetheart? Let me take care of you like no one can, I swear."

Jimin's hands slowly slid around to your stomach, fingers splaying across the soft skin. She pulled you more closer, hugging you from behind as the warm water lapped at your skin. "You need someone who can take care of you like I can," her cheek resting against the top of your head. "You need someone, with whom you won't have to count every penny and think whether you'll have enough to pay the bills tomorrow, you need me, doll."

"I want to touch every part of you, sweetheart," she breathed against your neck, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "I want to make you feel pleasure that would be beyond anything you've ever experienced in your life."

Her thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with teasing strokes. She could feel you squirming against her touch, the way your hips rocking instinctively to meet her touch.

"Yeah? Do you like it?" she chuckled, burying her nose in the crook of your neck, while her movements, as if mockingly, became faster and slower, as if not giving you a chance to get used to such sensations. "I know you do, doll, this is not even half of what I will do to you tonight."

You barely heard her words, all of it mixed in unison with the phantom sensations of her touches on your body, with the pleasant, warm and slightly dim lighting of this jacuzzi, and the smell of essential oils that were added to the water like an additional drug to quickly drive you crazy.

"I'm ready to spend millions just to see you like this every day, at my disposal," Jimin bit her bottom lip as she heard your uncontrollable whines getting louder with each passing second, "and I think you won't mind."

She said the last sentence with a smirk, and fuck, of course she was right, you've never experienced anything like this, not even close, her touch, her words.

Too well, despite her teasing, she listened attentively to all the sounds that flew out of your mouth, as if with her ears trying to catch that very painful note that would make her stop, even though that was the last thing she wanted right now.

But your comfort was the most important thing now, and that's why when she didn't felt the resistance of your body, she just continued, knowing that right now you want it no less than she does.

"Come on, sweetheart," she babbled, the gentle yet still trembling tone of her voice making you arch your back, pressing your back against her chest, "you don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

Your walls started to clamp around nothing, and feeling this pleasant pulsation, she understood that you were close, and the particularly high moan that flew out of your mouth only confirmed this.

"That's my good girl," she immediately praised, but did not allow you to rest, her hands again slid to your hips, forcing you to turn towards her, ending up on her lap.

This change of position caused some water in the hot tub to spill overboard, but obviously now you both didn't care.

"You're so beautiful, gow many times have I told you this today?" Her words made you smile, "more than necessary," you replied, looking at her face while your lips were almost a millimeter apart.

"Never, I'm ready to repeat this to you at least a hundred times until you understand it." And with that, she captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

She poured all of herself into her touch, her love, her yearing for you, her all-consuming need for the beautiful girl in her arms. Tongue delved deep, intertwining with yours.

Breaking the kiss, she trailed her lips down the column of your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the racing pulse she found there. She sucked lightly, leaving barely noticeable red marks from her teeth every time she bit a little harder than necessary.

At one point she felt your hands on her shoulders, forcing her to lean her back against the back of the jacuzzi, which she calmly allowed you to do, as if giving you a flag in your hands.

You spread her legs, bending them at the knees. At that moment you dazed gaze immediately rushes between her thighs.

Her flesh shines invitingly, that's what made you bite your lower lip, seeing such a strong and seemingly cold-blooded woman for the first time at your mercy. You were slowly saddle her leg to slide straight her older crotch. Her large palms immediately cover your round buttocks, pulling them even closer to her.

"Fuck... so good, sweetheart," she exhaled, watching as you looked straight into her eyes without a drop of shame, slowly starting to move, "really? When you're on the bottom, you look even better than usual." You said as you felt Jimin's hands force your hips to push against her own.

You cover your mouth with trembling hand, and Jimin does not take her excited gaze away from the place where their hips collide. This view really drove her crazy, making her want you even more, although it seemed like where else could it be?

"The hottest view I've ever had in my life," she said with a grin, she says greedily, licking her lips. She doesn't stop kneading the younger's soft buttocks and furiously rubbing her groin against her, catching your clumsy thrusts and half-strangled sobs.

You placed your palms on her stomach under the water, your hair sticks to her crimson cheeks, lips are dry, and you are both quite tense and focused on thrusting, because you both felt the approaching climax becoming more and more tangible.

You falls onto her chest with a drawn-out groan, continuing to twitch convulsively, and she herself presses her wet groin tightly against your folds, while she impatiently lifted your hips to increase the friction between them and prolong the pleasure spreading between her legs.

You both realized that you clearly didn't want to stop now, which is why, after a few minutes, your gazes met again, and you both understood each other without words.

Getting out of the hot tub as quickly as possible, you slowly wrapped your arms around her neck, jumping into her arms, wrapping your arms around her bare waist. Hands gripped your hips tightly as you both walked out of the bathroom, and despite the cold temperature contrast with the hot bath, you both made your way to the bed.

Jimin carefully laid you on your back, hovering over you, she grabs the soft roundness of your breasts with her palms, squeezes them through her own trembling and impatience, she sank lower, kisses your sunken stomach, inhaling the faint scent of your desire.

You don't hold back your moans when she does it especially well for you, but sometimes you react at all, and at other moments on the contrary, you felt everything too sensitively, not even understanding why your body reacted so much to her touches.

Your toes curl convulsively with pleasure. She looked up at you, her eyes dark and hazy with desire as she took in the exquisite sight of you arched against the pillows, your back bowed in pleasure.

"Quite the sight," she said, licking her lower lips, "Is it really me who has this influence on you?"

This question made you lift your head from the pillows, looking at her with a look that literally said "what-is-this-fucking-question", but despite this, you found the strength to answer with maximum restraint, despite the excess of feelings and emotions that were seething inside you, "and who else?"

She seemed to be satisfied with your answer, helped guide your legs up and over her shoulders, the soft skin of your inner thighs brushing against her cheeks, she leaned in closer, breath hot and heavy against your dripping core as she gazed up at your face, taking in every expression that flitted across your features.

"If you had said your boyfriend's name, I swear I would have killed you right now," with this words, she dove in, tongue delving deep into you, swirling and stroking your inner walls. She licked and suckled, her movements deliberate and focused on giving you the most of the pleasure she could ever give you.

Jimin's nose nestling against your mound as her tongue continued assault on your aching clit, the feeling of that stimulation made your body shudder.

"Fuck, baby..." She breathed, before diving back in again, rough surface of tongue delving deeper into your folds. She licked and sucked, her tongue curling to hit that spongy perfect spot inside you, "sweetheart, It feels like I can't get enough of you."

She could feel your body trembling, hear your breathy moans filling the room as she worked up you closer to your peak, your thighs tensing around her head, your body arching off the bed as the coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter.

Inner walls clamped down around the tip of her tongue as wave after wave of your orgasm crashed over you, your back arching sharply as you cried out for the last time.

The way your juices gushed, staining her chin turned her on even more, forcing her to obediently swallow every last drop.

With her lips moving up along the skin of your stomach, she chuckled, still feeling the tremors that seemed like they weren't going to leave your body.

"The most beautiful orgasm I've ever seen in my life," she giggled, licking the beads of sweat that were running down your wet body from your collarbone, skillfully catching each one with her tongue, "and it's clearly not the last."

It made you look at her questioningly, you saw the sly way she looked at you and it made you burn with anticipation. Not the last one?

"Are you up to something, Jimin?" you asked, your eyebrows raised in question, watching as instead of answering, she just smirked and moved away from you, taking her suitcase out from under the bed.

"You know, call me a freak, but I took something interesting on the trip with you," she said in a voice that was full of mystery, and in this voice you couldn’t even understand whether she was joking or speaking in all seriousness.

You didn't see what she was doing, you just heard a barely audible click, which made you wonder, is she fastening something? What is she doing?

But all the questions disappeared as soon as she straightened up, she started to slip the harness on, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly against her hips and thighs. The silicone of strap juttted out obscenely, bobbing with each movement as she positioned herself between your legs once more.

"A fucking strap-on, Yu Jimin?" You asked in surprise, despite the fact that this scenario clearly did not frighten or disgust you, "Are you seriously took it "with us" to Paris?"

Your surprised remarks made her laugh as she looked into your eyes defiantly, "why not? I couldn't pass up the chance to fuck you in a room with a view of the Eiffel Tower, it would be a waste of money."

Her answer made you snort playfully as she tightened the toy around her hips more, "come on, roll over for me, baby," Jimin instructed softly, her hands caressing your hips, "a little fun won't hurt, you know."

As you rolled over obediently, she helped arrange the pillows beneath your hips, lifting them to present yourself to her. She ran her hands over the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh appreciatively.

She pressed the silicone tip against your entrance, rubbing it teasingly between your folds, wetting herself with your lubricant, hoping that this would allow her to slide into you more easily without causing you pain.

"Push back against me, angle your hips to take me deeper, it would be less painful for you, sweetheart," one hand slid around your hip to your front, finding your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles over the sensitive nub. The other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as she started to thrust, building a steady rhythm.

She pulled out until just the tip remained before slamming back in, burying herself to the hilt. Her hips slapped against your cheeks with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound filling the room along with your needy moans.

She gradually picked up the pace as she felt she could move inside more freely, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. She tugged your head back, forcing your spine to arch even more as she pounded into you.

"You're looking so fuckable right now," she pushed her hips harder, with a particularly hard thrust, grinding the strap-on deep inside you as she continued to rub tight circles on your clit. She could feel your walls fluttering around the intrusion, your body instinctively trying to draw her in even deeper.

"You're looking so fuckable right now," she pushed her hips harder, with a particularly hard thrust, grinding the strap-on deep inside you as she continued to rub tight circles on your clit. She could feel your walls fluttering around the intrusion, your body instinctively trying to draw her in even deeper.

"Bet your boyfriend will never be able to do it the way I do it," she punctuated her possessive words with a sharp smack to your ass, watching as the flesh jiggled from the impact. "Fucking never," she rubbed the reddened skin soothingly before gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you back to meet her rough thrusts.

Jimin pushed you over, again, your body convulsing beneath hers as your orgasm crashed over you. She worked you through it, fucking you through each aftershock until you collapsed onto the bed, spent and panting.

She followed you down, covering your body with her own, her hips still rocking gently against yours as she caught her breath. She gazed at you adoringly, brushing your sweat-soaked hair back from your face, her fingers tracing the curves of your cheeks.

Jimin began to move once, rolling her hips in a slow rhythm, the strap-on sliding in and out of you with a lewd squelch. Her face mere inches from yours, allowing you to see every flicker of emotion and lust in her eyes.

"That's it, baby. Wrap those legs around my waist," she encouraged, her voice a low, seductive murmur. "Pull me in deeper, angel. I want to be as close to you, pretty girl."

As you obeyed, locking your ankles around her back, she leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss, tongue delving into your mouth to intertwine with yours. She swallowed your moans and whimpers.

"That's my good girl," She praised breathlessly, breaking the kiss to gaze at you with hooded eyes dark with desire.

Your hands push her, forcing you to change positions, obviously, she did not offer any resistance to this, on the contrary, she encouraged it

"Sweetheart, you're so fucking eager for me, aren't you?" She purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "I love this side of you."

Her hands immediately went to your waist, gripping your hips possessively as she gazed up at you with a look of pure lust, hands up your sides, cupping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as she admired your confidence. Her thumbs circled your nipples, teasing the sensitive buds till they pebbled under her touch.

"Ride me, baby," she encouraged, her voice low and thick with arousal. "I know you want to take all you need from me, do it, right now."

Jimin guided your hips with her hands, helping you set rhythm that was comfortable for you as you rose and fell on the strap-on. Her eyes were glued to where you both were joined, watching your cunt swallow her up again and again, your arousal coating the silicone.

"That's my good girl, bouncing on me so eagerly," she groaned, her head falling back against the pillow, "you're riding my cock like it was made for your pussy."

You felt your breathing quicken, how it became harder for you to breathe with every movement, because of how hard your body was shaking, she saw this and she continued to push herself, holding you by the hips.

With every push you were closer and closer to falling into the abyss, and the last push sent you straight there, with a loud groan, causing you to fall right onto her.

She wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as she rolled her hips, grinding against yours to prolong your climax. She gazed at you adoringly, brushing your sweat-soaked hair back from your face, her fingers tracing the curves of your cheeks.

Lips kissed your temple soothingly while the silicone toy was still inside you, clearly not planning on coming out yet. The way you breathed heavily into her neck made her chuckle, pulling you even closer.

"Sleep now, baby, you need to get some rest, I don't want my secretary to come to the meeting with shaking legs tomorrow.

[smutmind]

can you make a twice mina, when it doesn't fit 🙏

When it Doesn't Fit ft. Mina

Mina X BBC

Something about Mina was different.

She didn’t wear anything new. No louder colors, no extra styling. But when she appeared live for the first time in months, fans noticed instantly.

“Why does she look hotter doing nothing?” “She moves like she’s got secrets.” “Mina post-hiatus is dangerous…”

She barely smiled. Her tone was as soft as ever. But her gaze—her presence—lingered. Like every movement had weight. Like she knew people were watching and wanted them to stay there.

Even the way she sat had changed. She didn’t fidget. She reclined—one leg crossed, back just slightly arched, lips parted like she’d just tasted something sweet and didn’t want to share.

The change wasn’t loud. It was felt.

And no one could figure out why.

Paris had wrapped her in velvet and sin.

It started with a surprise invite—an exclusive brand debut, front row, private fittings, and whispered praise from stylists who only touched royalty.

“You have the right bones,” one had said. “But more importantly, you have the mystery.”

She walked every room like she didn’t quite belong—and yet every eye found her.

But what happened that changed her didn’t happen on the runway.

It happened on the third night. After dinner. In private.

The brand called it a “market test.”

One of the execs pulled her aside, voice cool and smooth. “We’d like to get a sense of your full appeal. What kind of effect you really have.”

She blinked. “You mean a shoot?”

“Something… less conventional,” he said. “Elijah will handle it. He’s worked with models before.”

She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t need to. Because when they mentioned his name, her stomach twisted—not with fear, but something more dangerous.

Curiosity.

Elijah opened the penthouse door shirtless. Towering. Dark. Shoulders wide enough to block the light. His voice low and amused.

“You’re braver than I expected.”

Mina stepped inside. Her throat felt tight. “This is… still about the brand?”

“In a way,” he said. “They want to see how you respond. Not just in photos. In sensation. In surrender.”

She swallowed hard.

He stepped closer. “Take off your coat.”

She obeyed. Beneath it, silk clung to her skin—a sleek black slip that barely covered her thighs.

He didn’t compliment her. He didn’t touch her yet.

He just said, “Get on the bed.”

Mina's hands shook as she crawled onto the bed, her bare skin flushed from nerves and the bite of Paris air through the open balcony.

Elijah stood behind her, pants undone, thick cock already in his grip. When she glanced back, her breath caught.

It was big—too big. Dark, veined, heavy.

She swallowed hard. “There’s no way that’s gonna fit.”

He smirked. “You’ll take it.”

His hands gripped her ass, spreading her wide. “You’re wet enough already. Don’t pretend you’re not ready for it.”

“I’m not pretending,” she breathed. “I’m fucking scared.”

“Good,” he growled. “That means it’s real.”

He lined himself up, the blunt head pressing against her entrance.

“Relax.”

She tried—but the second he pushed in, her body tensed on instinct.

“Fuck—” she gasped. “It’s too much.”

Elijah didn’t stop. He gripped her hips, dragged her back onto him slowly—inch by thick inch until her pussy was forced to open wide around him.

Her hands clawed at the sheets.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, face buried in the mattress. “You’re splitting me open—”

He leaned over her, one hand sliding beneath to grip her tits, squeezing them tight, using her chest as leverage as he started to move.

“That’s it,” he grunted. “Let me hear it.”

His cock pounded into her now—deep, brutal, stretching her out with every thrust. Her tits bounced under his hands, moans spilling from her lips loud, broken, raw.

“Shit—Elijah—fuck!” she cried, voice cracking. “It’s too deep—I can’t—”

“You can.” He slammed into her harder. “You’re taking all this cock like a good girl.”

She sobbed and moaned all at once, legs shaking, cunt soaked and stretched wide.

“You feel that?” he hissed in her ear. “That’s what you’ve been needing.”

Her orgasm hit without warning—ripping through her hard, clenching around him, making her legs give out.

He didn’t stop.

His pace turned savage—balls slapping against her with each thrust, cock slamming deep, filling her to the edge. Using her tits for grip. Her soaked pussy for heat.

Mina’s body writhed under him, overstimulated, slick, stretched.

“F-fuck, Elijah—wait—” she gasped. “It hurts—too deep—”

He didn’t stop immediately, but his grip shifted—less brute force, more control. He leaned over her, voice rough in her ear.

“You want me to stop?”

She shook her head, breath trembling. “No, just… slow.”

He did. Just a little. But enough.

And even as she whimpered from the burn, her pussy still clenched around him—wet, greedy, traitorous.

“God, why does it still feel so good,” she whispered, half crying, half moaning.

“Because you’re made for this,” he growled.

His rhythm picked back up, and she could feel him thicken—cock twitching with the build.

Her eyes flew open. “Don’t cum inside,” she panted. “Please. Not inside.”

He didn’t answer.

Just grunted, low and guttural.

“Elijah—”

With a final thrust, he pulled out, hand stroking the length of his shaft fast, hard—until thick ropes spilled hot across her lower back, her ass, her thighs. Heat painted her skin as she gasped at the mess of it.

He exhaled like he’d been holding back a storm.

Then collapsed beside her.

She lay there—legs shaking, cunt soaked, body trembling between pain and pleasure, her skin sticky with him.

Elijah was wrecked—flat on his back, chest rising in shaky pulls, cock softening against his thigh, glistening with spit and sex.

Mina straddled his chest, looking down at him like a queen surveying her prey.

Her voice dropped to a growl. “You think we’re done?”

He barely managed a breath. “I don’t know if I can—”

“You don’t get to decide,” she snapped. “Sharon decides.”

She slid down between his legs, grabbing his cock in both hands—still thick, too damn big, twitching under her touch. Her fingers barely fit around it.

“Still fat,” she muttered. “Still mine.”

She spit on the head, watched it drip down the shaft, then took him into her mouth with intent. Her jaw ached instantly. He stretched her wide, made her gag halfway down—but she didn’t stop.

She moaned around him, loud and raw. Sloppy. Her spit soaked them both. He groaned, trying to lift his hips, but she pinned him down, bobbing harder, faster, letting his cock brutalize her throat.

“Shit, Sharon—fuck—fuck!” he gasped, knuckles white as he gripped the sheets.

She pulled off with a wet pop, saliva smeared on her chin, and slapped his cock against her tongue.

“You’re gonna stay hard,” she growled. “You’re gonna give me one more.”

Before he could answer, she climbed back on top of him—lining that massive cock up with her dripping, stretched pussy.

“Barely fit me the first time,” she muttered. “But I’m gonna fuckin’ take it.”

She dropped down in one brutal grind, burying him inch by inch until he was balls-deep inside her again. Her moan was ragged, half pain, half triumph.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re splitting me open.”

She rode him hard—hips snapping, tits bouncing, cunt sucking him in greedily even as she winced from the stretch.

He was shaking beneath her.

“Sharon, I—fuck—I can’t—”

“Yes, you fucking can,” she barked. “You’ll come when I say.”

Her pussy clenched down, dripping around his cock, milking him for more. Her rhythm got rougher. She used him, chased her own high, growled in his face.

“Look at you,” she panted. “Fucked dumb. Cock drained. Still giving me more.”

He groaned, helpless, his balls tightening again.

“Inside me,” she whispered darkly. “Now.”

He came hard—twitching, choking, cock pumping hot cum deep into her sore, soaked cunt.

She rode it out with a broken moan, grinding down until the last spasm passed.

And when she finally stilled, thighs trembling, chest heaving, she leaned down to his ear.

“That’s two loads in me. And your cock’s still hard.”

Then she smirked.

“Next time? You better bring friends.”

[idkwhylou]

Trouble

Summary : You grew up on military bases, always under the shadow of your admiral father—and always just out of reach of the Navy boys you weren't supposed to want. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been different.

Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader/militarybrat!reader

Warnings : bad knowledge on military settings, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex (nothing graphic more suggestive), flirt, Hangman, no use of y/n, bit of angst ?, happy ending dw

Words : 6K

A/N : It's the first time I write for Bradley, actually this have been hidden in my drafts for too long soooo. Didn't check before posting, sorry for the mistakes

+ your last name is Andrews (not important I just named the admiral father like that so)

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆·⋆ ─── ««

Being a military brat wasn’t exactly a dream, but you’d learn to survive it with style.

Endless relocations, half-finished friendships, birthdays celebrated on video calls while your father was halfway around the world—Admiral Andrews always had bigger battles to fight. You grew up in hangars and on tarmacs, your lullabies was the roar of jet engines and the bark of orders through static-filled radios. Discipline was second nature. And so was pretending things didn’t hurt.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. They were…perks. 

Namely, the men.

They came and went like seasons—loud, fleeting, and always convinced they were unforgettable. Each one walked with the same cocksure strut, flight suits unzipped just enough to suggest ego rather than comfort, and eyes that burned with that reckless, high-altitude gleam. You learned fast—faster than you were probably supposed to—how to recognize the pattern. The polished charm they wore like a second skin.

You didn’t fall for it. Not once.

You watched, studied, catalogued the way they spoke when they thought they were being clever, the way their smiles sharpened when they were about to flirt. You learned how long it took them to show their tells—the subtle shift in tone, the not-so-innocent brush of an arm, the pause that lasted just a beat too long. They weren’t as mysterious as they thought or tried to pretend. They were pretty predictable actually.

But you never chased them. That, was the key.

You let them notice you instead—just enough to spark the thought, just enough to stay in their mind when the hangar got quiet. You were a test they didn’t realize they were failing. 

Every. Single. Time.

But your father had made it crystal clear from the start : “No navy men”. Which was funny, considering that’s all you were ever surrounded by. Anyway, the irony wasn’t lost on you and neither was the challenge. 

He thought keeping you on base and away from the navy bars meant keeping you safe. But the Admiral never realized that some of your favorite games were played right under his nose. You knew the base like the back of your hand—every shadow, every corner, every overlooked bench, every hangar edge where you could linger just out of sight. You didn’t need loud scenes or public displays. You had subtle smiles, quiet glances, late-night conversations shared against metal walls still warm from the day’s sun. 

Flirts came and went; a wink here, a stolen moment there. You kept things light and unattached. You weren’t naïve—you knew better than to fall for boys who wore dog tags. But God, it was so fun watching them fall just a little bit for you. 

Over the years you got really good at it. You learned how pilots saw you, how they move around girls, how they lie without meaning to. You recognized the ones who were all show, the ones who tried too hard, and the rare few who didn’t try at all. You knew how to draw attention without begging for it. 

And at first, they all tried.

When you were younger—barely out of high school but already too clever for your own good—the attention was constant. New recruits, cocky lieutenants, even a few seasoned officers too sure of their charm. They came at you like it was some unspoken initiation: flirt with the Admiral’s daughter, see how close you could get before it blew up in your face.

One did get close. Too close.

You’d spent the night tangled in Navy sheets and heat; a moment of rebellion that tasted too sweet to regret. It wasn’t love—just curiosity with hands and mouths, a quiet hunger you hadn’t realized you’d been carrying until it finally spilled over. He was older, confident in a way that didn’t feel forced, and for one night, you let yourself fall into the thrill of being wanted, seen—not as the Admiral’s daughter, but just as you.

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But the morning did. You hadn’t even had time to slip your shirt back on when you heard the footsteps—sharp, purposeful, unmistakable. The door creaked open before you could speak, and there he was: your father, Admiral Andrews, jaw clenched so tight it looked carved from stone. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to actually. One look. One breath drawn through his nose. One flick of his eyes to the discarded uniform trousers on the floor. 

That was enough.

The silence that followed was deafening. He didn’t yell, didn’t bark orders. He simply turned and walked away with the kind of fury that came wrapped in control—and that was somehow worse. By the end of the week, the boy was gone. Transferred without explanation to another coast. Scrubbed clean from your world like he’d never been there. And no one said a word about it. 

Not your father. Not the guy. Not anyone. Not even you, because you knew it was best to keep your mouth shut if you didn’t want to end up in the same situation.

But the message was heard loud and clear across base. You were off-limits now. Untouchable. The Admiral’s daughter—marked. 

After that, most of them backed off. The stares were more cautious; they’d smile quickly, maybe toss a joke your way, but nobody dared get too close. Well, not unless they had a death wish—or a transfer request ready to go.

And you ? You adapted. The flirting became harmless, more performative—just enough to keep things fun.

And still, now and then, someone would forget. 

Some new recruit, fresh off a carrier and drunk on his own reflection, would mistake your easy grin for an invitation. Or maybe it was the way you leaned in when you laughed, the way you held eye contact just a breath too long. You knew the signals you sent. You just knew how to pull them back, too.

They’d catch on. Eventually. Maybe it was the way the older pilots watched you a little too closely, not with hunger but with caution. Maybe it was the subtle tension that snapped into place anytime your father’s name left someone’s mouth like it was a warning label: ‘Admiral Andrews’s daughter’.

And then there were the whispers. Low-voiced and half-believed, traded like ghost stories in locker rooms and smoke breaks. The one who got a guy sent away. Some were curious, others called it poison, most didn’t dare. But a few still tried: the ones too bold or too dumb to care, or maybe just the ones who didn’t know.

Which is why you noticed right away when someone didn’t get the memo.

That night at the Hard Deck, the music was low, the air buzzing with the usual mix of sweat and beer. You were nursing a drink more out of habit than thirst, letting the noise wash over you in waves. That’s when he showed up—Jake Seresin, golden boy swagger and all.

He didn’t look at you like someone warned him. He looked at you like a dare.

“Funny,” he said, leaning an elbow on the bar like he had all night to kill. “I come here a lot, and I don’t remember seeing you before. That feels like a personal tragedy.”

You turned to him, unimpressed but not dismissive. “Maybe I’m very good at not being noticed.”

Jake smiled slowly, eyes sweeping over you—not crude, but confident. “Not with a face like that.”

You snorted softly, swirling the rest of your drink. “Do those lines actually work, or are you just here to collect L’s ?”

He laughed, tilting his head. “Just here to see if lightning strikes. What’s your name ?”

You considered it for a beat too long. “Wouldn’t you rather guess ?”

Jake’s grin grew wider. “Trouble. Definitely trouble.”

You leaned in slightly, letting your shoulder brush his just enough to register. “Only for people who don’t know how to handle me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, “I specialize in handling.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression unreadable but amused. “You sure ? You look more like someone who talks a big game and taps out when it gets interesting.”

His hand pressed to his chest in mock offense. “You wound me.”

“I’m just being cautious,” you replied, your voice silk over steel. “I’ve seen a lot of pilots walk in here thinking they’re bulletproof. Turns out, most of them flinch when the safety’s off.”

Jake chuckled, eyes narrowing slightly. “So you are military. I was betting civilian.”

“Does it matter ?” you asked, letting the question linger.

“Only if you outrank me.”

You smirked into your glass. “You have no idea.”

For a moment, the air between you was still—charged with the kind of tension that made everything slow down. Jake looked at you like he wanted to solve you. You looked at him like you’d already read the answer and were just waiting to see if he’d catch up.

From across the room, someone called his name but he didn’t move. Not yet. “Tell you what,” he said. “Let me buy you a drink. Worst case, you put me in my place and I go home with a bruised ego. Best case…”

You tilted your head. “Best case ?”

He leaned in, just a little. “You stop pretending you're not having fun.”

You didn’t answer right away, just held his gaze. Then, with a slow, calculated smile, you slid your almost empty glass toward him.

“I’ll take a whiskey,” you said. “Neat. No bullshit.”

Jake’s laugh was soft and genuine as he flagged down Penny. “Now that’s a girl after my own heart.”

He returned quickly with the drinks in hand, sliding yours across the table next to you like a magician revealing a card trick. “One whiskey, neat. No bullshit—just how you like it.”

You took it with a nod, your fingers brushing his for half a second. He was easy to look at—lean, tan, jawline too sharp for his own good. The kind of guy who probably had a mirror above his bed. But he was charming, you had to admit. There was something in the way he grinned at you like he already knew you were trouble and still wanted a bite. Maybe you’d give him one. Just a taste.

“You’re not so bad, Hangman,” you said, sipping your drink.

He perked up. “So you have heard of me.”

“Hard not to. The ego arrives five minutes before you do.”

Jake laughed. “That’s fair.”

You let the conversation drift, leaning back against the wall, letting his stories and confident smirks wash over you. It was easy to play this game. Familiar. Like slipping into old shoes—ones that still fit but didn’t take you anywhere new.

And then, the door swung open.

You didn’t look at first, still listening to Jake—he was mid-sentence about some dogfight in training—but then you felt it. A shift in the air. Your eyes flicked toward the entrance.

Bradley fucking Bradshaw.

He walked in like he didn’t need the room to notice him—and yet it did. He had that kind of quiet gravity, the kind that pulled attention without asking for. He wore one of those old Hawaiian shirts���sun-bleached and fraying a little at the edges, probably one of his dad’s—left unbuttoned, sleeves cuffed like it was second nature. A pair of aviators rested low on the bridge of his nose, catching the bar lights just enough to hide his eyes. In his hand, he still held the keys to his precious bronco, twirling them once around his finger like a nervous tic, though nothing about him looked uncertain. 

Jake was still talking, something about g-force and cocky teammates, but you weren’t hearing it anymore. You and Bradley had known each other for a while now. Enough to share inside jokes and glances that didn’t need words. He made space for you in conversations without trying. He remembered things you hadn’t realized you’d said. He was kind in a way that didn’t need an audience.

The blond said something and you nodded absently, but your eyes followed Bradley as he made his way toward the bar. Rooster hadn’t seen you yet, or maybe he had and was just taking his time. Either way, he walked with the ease of someone who didn’t have to prove anything. While Jake was all angles and spotlight, Bradley was all depth and quiet corners.

Hangman finally paused, catching your shift in attention. He followed your gaze and let out a short laugh, “Is it the porn ‘stache or the ugly shirt ?”

You blinked, snapped back. “What ?”

“Bradshaw,” Jake said, nodding toward him. “Didn’t peg you for the boy scout type.”

You shrugged and let out a soft chuckle, “I don’t have a type.”

Jake tilted his head, that ever-present smirk tugging at his mouth. “Sure you don’t. Rooster ? Really ? You’re goin’ soft on us sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, feigning boredom as you sipped your drink. “Bradley’s just a long-time friend.”

Hangman leaned in a little, elbow brushing the table as his voice dropped low. “Mm-hmm. Funny, because you don’t look at your other friends like that.”

You smirked. “What’s the matter ? You’re jealous ?”

His grin widened into something smug. “Jealous ? Please.” He gestured at himself. “Sweetheart, I’m not worried. ‘Cause let’s be honest—Rooster’s too busy thinking about the right thing to say. Me ?” He leaned in just a bit closer, voice smooth and low. “I actually know how to treat a girl like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a slow smile tugging at your lips. “Oh yeah ? And what kind of girl is that, exactly ?”

His gaze flicked down briefly—too quickly to be respectful, too slowly to be innocent. “Smart mouth, sharp tongue… but you like a little danger. You want someone who doesn’t ask permission to touch, someone who knows when to talk… and when not to.”

You let out a soft laugh, but there was heat beneath it. “Wow. You rehearsed that one ?”

Jake’s grin turned lazy, cocky. “Sweetheart, that was the improv version.”

You leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing, teasing. “If I wanted a man who thought with his ego, I’d pick one with better stamina.”

His eyebrows lifted, that cocky smirk faltering just a second—then came back twice as bold. “You volunteering to test that theory ?”

You were about to say something sharp, something that might’ve made the temperature between you boil over, but a voice cut the moment clean in half. “Seresin.”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. But you did.

Bradley stood there, calm as ever, jaw tight, that unreadable gaze flicking between you and Hangman. The keys to his Bronco hung loosely in his hand, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable. “Didn’t know we were giving lectures on respect tonight,” he added, his voice level, but unmistakably pointed.

Jake raised both hands in mock surrender, a laugh in his throat. “Easy, Rooster. We were just talkin’.”

“Sure you were,” Bradley said, gaze not leaving Jake’s face.

Hangman didn’t move, his grin just a fraction but his stance still confident, as if daring Bradley to push further. “So, what’s the real deal ? I’m not one to back off, you should know that Bradshaw.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping low but steady, laced with quiet authority. “You remember Admiral Andrews, right ? You’ve got his sweet little girl right in front of you, idiot.” He took a slow step closer, his tone sharpened with warning. “So maybe think twice before you mess around with something you can’t afford to break.”

The blond blinked, the easy cockiness flickered for a moment, surprise crossing his features as Bradley’s words hit harder than he expected. He glanced at you, then back at Bradley, sensing the line he wasn’t meant to cross. You see a flicker of hesitation in his eyes—but he didn’t back down. You liked that.

“You think a name’s gonna scare me off ? I’m not like you chicken. Plus I don’t see her old man anywhere.” He smirked.

Bradley stepped forward just enough, his voice calm but firm, carrying the weight of authority. “Maybe not. But I’m the one standing between you and a whole lot of trouble. So why don’t you save us both the headache and walk away ?”

Jake let out a slow sigh, the fight draining out of him as he finally nodded. He looked at you and winked, “When he's done bothering you, you know where to find me sweetheart.”

You weren’t angry—Bradley did this all the time. Always stepping in, always cock-blocking you when you least expected it. It was almost infuriating how often he played the protective big brother role. But you knew it came from somewhere deeper. He wasn’t just interfering for the sake of it; he was looking out for you. You mattered to him, more than most people realized.

Bradley’s eyes softened as he looked at you, a quiet honesty in his voice. “I know it’s annoying. But you’ve got people watching your back—including me.”

You shook your head with a small laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Big brother mode activated. I get it.”

He nudged you gently with his elbow as you both moved toward the bar, where Penny was serving other patrons. “Come on,” he said. You followed him, feeling the familiar pull of comfort in his presence—someone who knew the real you, without pretense or judgment.

Bradley didn’t waste a second. He caught Penny’s eye and commanded, “Six shots of tequila Pen’.” He shot you a knowing look, his smirk softening just a little. He knew exactly how you liked it. 

Before you could even think about pulling out your wallet, he slid his card across the counter. “On me. Don’t even.”

You slid onto the stool next to him, the wood creaking softly beneath your weight. The air between you buzzed with a tension that had settled there years ago—familiar, low-burning. You barely had time to adjust your seat when Bradley, without a word or a glance, reached out and tugged your stool closer to him. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either—firm, like muscle memory, like this wasn’t the first time he’d wanted you that close.

You didn’t protest, you didn’t need to and absolutely didn’t want to. 

From across the bar, Penny slid the six shots in front of you with practiced ease. She arched a brow, smirking as her eyes flicked between the two of you. “Bradley,” she said, tone dry but affectionate, “keep an eye on her tonight, will you ? She’s trouble in my bar—and you’re the only one she actually listens to.” 

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh, but didn’t deny it. And Bradley just smirked, like he already knew he’d be doing just that. Trouble, after all, had a way of finding the two of you. Or maybe you were just better at finding each other. You took the salt and pour some on your palm, Rooster stretched out his hand to you, so that you could put salt on his too. You, then, reached for the first glass without hesitation, fingers brushing the cool rim just as Bradley’s hand closed around his own. Your eyes met in the half-second, you raised your shot in a toast. 

“To trouble then.” You said, your smile lazy, knowing. 

He chuckled warmly under his breath as the clink of glass between you was soft, but it echoed—more than sound. You tipped yours back easily. The tequila was sharp at first, then smooth as you bite in your quarter of lemon. His gaze lingered a second too long on your mouth, as you lick your lips. 

You leaned your elbow on the bar, chin in hand, feeling your throat burning. “You’ve always got my back, haven’t you ?”

He gave a half-shrug, eyes flicking down to his empty glass. “Someone had to.” That was always the thing about Bradley—he didn’t posture. He didn’t need to. While others circled like moths to flame, trying too hard, talking too loud, he simply stayed. The only one who never looked at you like you were something to win or just a piece of meat.

You studied his profile for a beat—the strong jaw, the crease just forming between his brows. He looked like he always did: calm, grounded, the kind of calm that only made you more aware of your own pulse. His fingers tapped once against the bar, a quiet rhythm. Nervous ? No. Calculated for sure. Like he was trying not to look at you again, trying not to give too much away.

Then, without breaking the silence between you, he reached for the second shot. And slid yours toward you.

No words this time.

Just the soft scrape of glass across wood—and that heat blooming in your chest again, heavier this time. Not from the tequila. From the way his fingers brushed yours, just long enough to feel intentional and deliberate. 

For now.

You tilted your head, voice low and teasing. “What is it with you, Bradshaw ? You always this cautious, or just with me ?”

He gave a soft breath of a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t make it easy.”

That was honest. A little too honest.

You clinked your glass to his again. “Good.”

The second shot burned a little deeper, less sweet and more heat. You didn’t look away this time. You let your eyes linger on him as you set your glass down with a quiet clink, and this time, he was already watching you.

But not in the way others did. There was nothing lazy or possessive in it, just that familiar, weighted gaze. 

“You ever think maybe I’m not trying to make it easy ?” you murmured, lips just shy of a smirk.

He didn’t answer right away. Just shifted slightly on his feet, as if trying to find steadier ground. “I think,” he said finally, “that you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And I think,” you replied, leaning in just a little, “you’re still trying to pretend it doesn’t get to you.”

His mouth twitched, like he wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. Instead, he glanced away, jaw tight, hands folded in front of him like he needed somewhere to put the tension. “I can’t risk it,” he said under his breath. It wasn’t for effect. It wasn’t a line. It was a confession.

Your smile softened just a fraction. “Then why are you still sitting here, Brad ?”

That pulled his gaze back to you—harder this time, deeper. Something in it cracked, just slightly. And between you, the third shot sat untouched, waiting, as the tequila warmed your chest. Spread slow through your veins like liquid confidence. But Bradley’s eyes were too serious now.

“I’ve known you too long to fuck this up,” he said quietly, “You’re his daughter. You know what that means.”

And there it was; the sting. The salt no softening it at all and no smirk to hide behind.

Your smile faltered for half a second before you caught it, masked it in something lighter—your defense, always. “Well, good thing you’re not in uniform tonight. It doesn’t count then.”

You tried to make it sound like a joke. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. 

You leaned in, slow and unhurried, “So what’s your excuse now, Lieutenant ?”

But before you could get too close, he shifted. Enough to let the air slip between you again, enough to say nowithout the words. You froze for a beat, the rejection subtle but sharp in the places that mattered. He didn’t meet your eyes right away, his fingers tense against the wooden bar. 

“I don’t have a good reason,” he said at last, voice rougher now. “Only the right one.”

You didn’t flinch, but something in you pulled tight. Slowly, you leaned back, the teasing edge fading from your smile. Your fingers toyed with the rim of your empty glass, tracing a circle like it might give you answers. Right. Of course, it was the right reason. It always was with him. That was the problem.

“I forget sometimes,” you said quietly, your gaze fixed on the bar. 

He looked at you then—really looked—and there it was again, that quiet storm always behind his eyes. “I know what they see when they look at you. I’m not proud of how many I’ve wanted to punch for it.”

You huffed a breath, something like a laugh but thinner. “And here I thought you were the calm one.”

“I’m not calm when it comes to you.”

The confession dropped between you like a weight, and for a moment neither of you moved. The room felt too still. Too exposed. You turned, met his gaze again, your voice soft but steady. “Then don’t be. Just for tonight.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t look away either. And that silence said more than either of you were ready for. From behind the bar, Penny raised a brow and took discretely the two empty glasses—cutting through the moment like she knew. Of course she did.

You glanced down at it, then back at Bradley. “Last one,” you murmured. “You gonna let me drink alone ?”

His jaw flexed, but this time, he didn’t move away.

Bradley’s fingers wrapped around the last shot glass as he held your gaze. Then he tipped it back in one smooth motion. You watched his throat work as the tequila slid down, the way his eyes fluttered closed for just a beat—like he needed the burn to make a decision. Like he’d hoped the fire would settle something inside him.

But when he set the glass down, he didn’t say a word. Just pushed the rim gently toward the center of the bar and stood. No glance toward you. No smirk. No half-joke to soften the blow. Just the subtle clench of his jaw and the quiet scrape of wood as he stepped back from his stool.

Your breath caught. “Bradley—”

“I can’t,” he said, barely above a whisper. But it hit harder than if he’d shouted.

Then he turned and walked away. You sat frozen for a second, the heat of the liquor blooming in your chest, spreading too fast. Too deep. Penny didn’t say anything—just watched with that knowing look she always had, as if she’d seen a hundred near-misses like this before. You stared at the empty glass in front of you. Still warm. Still full of everything he didn’t say.

You stared at the empty space where he’d been, pulse thrumming beneath your skin like something trying to break loose. The tequila sat in front of you—untouched, waiting. Like a dare. 

You picked it up without thinking. “Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, then knocked it back. The burn hit harder than the first two. Bit deeper. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was him—but the moment the glass hit the bar again, you were already sliding off the stool.

You pushed past the quiet hum of the Hard Deck, ignoring the knowing look Penny shot your way, ignoring Jake's low whistle behind you. All you could focus on was the sight of Bradley’s broad back, just slipping through the door, his frame half-lit by the hazy dusk spilling across the beach.

“Bradley !” you called, the wind catching your voice as you jogged after him.

He didn’t turn around at first. Not until you caught up, your hand brushing his arm, fingers curling. He stopped like he’d been struck. Then, slowly, he turned. His sweet brown eyes found yours in the dim light of the parking lot, a storm behind his quiet irises. You let your hand drop from his arm, but his warmth lingered on your skin like a brand. 

“Why do you always do that ?” you asked, voice lower now. “Push me away like I’m some damn risk you can’t afford.”

Bradley didn’t answer right away. He looked past you for a second, jaw tight, as if picking his words from a minefield. “Because you ae,” he said finally, “You’re an Admiral’s daughter. You’re trouble I can’t walk away from clean.”

You flinched, not from the words themselves but the truth behind them. “I’m not a fucking kid Brad.”

“I know that,” he said, eyes falling shut for a second, like he was trying to steady something inside him. He pinched his nose, “Trust me, I know.”

“Then stop acting like you don’t want this too !” you snapped. “You’re not wearing your uniform tonight. You’re not my babysitter. You’re just… you. And I’m just me.”

His eyes opened because of the sudden rise of your voice, “You think that makes it easier ?”. You didn’t respond and he sighed looking down, then he stepped forward, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body again. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“I’m not asking,” you said, tapping your head back to meet his gaze. “I’m telling you I’m right here. And I want you.”

Bradley’s hands twitched at his sides, and for a moment it looked like he might pull away again. But instead of retreating, he exhaled slowly, like he was holding himself back. His expression shifted in something sharp flickering in his eyes, frustration simmering just under the surface. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair as his voice edged harder. 

“You don’t get it,” he said tightly. “You think I can just pretend that your dad wouldn’t end my career the second he found out I even looked at you twice ?”

You sighed and then took a shaky breath, your voice defiant. “You think I care what my dad thinks ?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Plus he likes you Bradley ! He trusts you and-”

He cut you off by letting out a bitter laugh, “Yeah,” he muttered, “because I’m not trying to fuck his daughter.”

The words hit hard—crude, sharp, and a little too honest. 

“This isn’t a game for me.” Your name escaped his lips so softly you almost forgot you were arguing. 

“I never said it was a game,” you said barely over a whisper. “But thanks for assuming I don’t understand.”

His jaw clenched. He looked away, down the road like it might offer an easier answer than what stood in front of him. “This is exactly why I walk away.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. “Right. Because walking away’s easier than actually admitting you care.”

That made him freeze. Just for a second. But it was enough.

He turned, keys still dangling in his hand, posture tense like he was ready to bolt.

Your heart squeezed.

You took a step forward, voice gentler now, cracking just a bit. “Bradley—wait.”

He stopped but didn’t turn. His shoulders stayed tense, his jaw locked as your words settled in the quiet between you.

“Can I just…” you hesitated. “Can I just have one thing ? One second. You don’t have to do anything else. Just let me… just let me have this.”

You stepped in slowly, cautiously, like approaching something wild that might bolt at any sudden movement. Your hand brushed his chest, fingers splaying gently over the fabric of his shirt. His heart was racing and so was yours.

“I don’t want to stay mad at you,” you said softly, searching his face. “I don’t want you to stay mad either.”

And then, without waiting for a yes—just holding your breath—you leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Slow, barely there. Lingering just long enough to make your heart break a little when you pulled back. It wasn’t about heat or seduction, it was something quieter; a confession. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d done it. There had been quiet moments over the years—late nights, stolen conversations, the way he’d look at you when he thought you weren’t looking—when you let yourself lean in and leave that barely-there kiss on the corner of his mouth. Just enough to remind him you saw him. Wanted him. Hoped he’d want you too.

And every time, Bradley would pull back with a small shake of his head, or a sharp sigh, or that carefully constructed silence that meant he was burying the thought before it could bloom.

But tonight… he didn’t move. He let you do it. He didn’t flinch or step away. He just stood there, breathing you in like it hurt, letting the moment happen. And that—more than anything—made your heart thud painfully in your chest.

You took a step back like you hadn’t just laid every card on the table. “That’s all,” you whispered.

Bradley exhaled, something raw and helpless in the sound. His eyes found yours—dark, unreadable—and then dropped to your lips. “You’re a real brat,” he muttered, almost like a prayer.

And before you could respond, he reached for you—fast, like the dam had finally cracked. One hand curled firmly around your waist, grounding you, while the other slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair like he needed to anchor himself. 

Then he pulled you in. 

His lips met yours, like he’d been fighting the pull for too long and finally, finally gave in. There was nothing hesitant about it, no more restraint, no more carefully measured distance. It was deep, consuming, years of tension unraveling in one breathless moment. He kissed you like he was starved for it, like every second he’d held back had only built the hunger. 

Bradley’s lips were deceptively soft, contrasting the sharp angles of his jaw and the rough edge he carried with him everywhere else. They were warm, shaped with a natural fullness that made every half-smile feel like a secret, every smirk a challenge. When he kissed you, they didn’t hesitate. There was no awkwardness, no uncertainty—just a grounded, confident pressure that spoke of restraint worn thin.

They tasted faintly of tequila and whatever gum he chewed out of habit, but underneath it was something that was just him ; clean, familiar, and dangerously addictive. And when they moved against yours, slow at first then deeper, there was a quiet intensity in them, like he'd been holding back for too long and finally let it slip.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing unsteady, like you’d knocked the wind out of him. His voice came low, hoarse and rough with everything he’d tried to bury.

“I should’ve known better than to think I’d ever be safe from trouble like you.”

“That’s why you love me.” You chuckled and gave him a quick peck, “And, don’t worry ‘bout my dad, I’ll take care of it.”

“If he sends me at the other end of the universe, you’d better follow me, you brat.” He teased, pinching your side playfully. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll follow you anywhere Bradshaw.” You kissed him again and you felt his body softening under your touch. 

[fortunxa]

VIDEO CONNECTION . . . (nsfw)

# cw. virtual sex, masturbation, dirty talk, teasing, taunting(?), praising, fwb(?), yearning, smut with plot, modern au. mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ

# wc. 2.4k

—inspired by . . . Girls on the Internet ♪♫♪

Jinx had always been reckless, but this? this is a whole new kind of thrill.

you had met online months ago—just another faceless username in a sea of them. a random server, a few playful insults, and somehow, you had become her person—the one she stayed up with, the one who made her stomach tighten with anticipation every time her phone chimed with a new message.

the video calls had started off innocent, too; late-night conversations, inside jokes, teasing comments that made you both linger a little too long. then curiosity crept in. you wanted to know what Jinx looked like when she stretched in the morning, all soft and sleepy. she wanted to see you fresh out of the shower, hair damp, skin glistening. you tested the waters with small slips—a bare shoulder here, a flash of skin there—until the tension was unbearable.

one dare turned into a challenge, a stolen glimpse into a full view. and now? now, there are no secrets left between you.

and tonight is no different.

Jinx sits back against the headboard, one leg bent, the other stretched out, her laptop positioned just right, the glow of the screen casting a soft light over her bare skin. the only thing she’s wearing is a loose tank top, thin enough to show the faintest outline of her nipples, and a pair of vibrant blue lace panties that ride high on her hips—just enough to cover, just enough to tease, meant to be seen; she’s barely bothering to keep up the pretense of modesty.

she drums her fingers against her thigh, anticipation curling hot in her stomach. she had been waiting for this all day, her needy cunt dampening her underwear and begging to be played with.

you always unwind together, always let the other watch. touching yourselves with nothing but pixels and distance between you, whispering things you shouldn’t, making each other feel without ever actually feeling.

she had never met you in person, never once felt your skin or breathed the same air. Jinx has never been shy, but you have a way of making her feel exposed, even when she isn’t stripping down in front of the camera.

the screen flickers, and you appear; hair tumbling over your bare shoulders, lips already parted, skin warm and flushed from the heat of your bedroom. you’re wearing that robe again—deep red, barely held together by the loosest of ties, leaving just enough to make her wish she could reach through the screen and pull it open herself.

you look wreckable, and you want to be—she knows that.

“damn,” she murmurs, licking her rosy lips. “you didn’t waste any time, huh?”

your smirk is slow as your gaze drags over her image on the screen, wanting. “neither did you.”

Jinx shifts, deliberately dragging her fingers up her bare thigh, watching your eyes follow the movement.

she wanted to be good. really, she did; she told herself she’d start with something sweet, ask you how your day was, maybe even tease a little before getting to the part she’d been thinking about since the moment she woke up.

but fuck, you’re right there, looking so soft, so warm, so fucking tempting, and her patience is gone. her tongue darts out to wet her lips, voice dropping into something low, hungry. “you waiting for me to ask nicely, or…?”

you tilt your head, eyes glinting with something wicked. “you could ask nicely.”

she scoffs. “not my style.”

your grin widens as your fingers slip beneath the edge of your robe, parting the fabric just a little more—just enough to tease. “then maybe i’ll make you work for it.”

Jinx just chuckles, genuinely amused this time and completely unbothered because you always say that—you’re usually the first to break, too. “sure you will,” she drawls, her smirk deepening. “go on, trouble. make me.”

you narrow your eyes, the flicker of indignation in them only making her smirk grow. cocky little shit, always so sure of herself.

but you’re not giving up just yet. you lean forward, chest pressing subtly toward the laptop, adjusting the webcam just enough to let her see the way two of your fingers slip between your lips. you hum softly, coating them in warm, wet heat before pulling them out with a quiet, obscene little pop. her gaze darkens instantly.

you trail your slick digits slowly down the valley of your breasts, dragging moisture over flushed skin, watching Jinx watch you. “bet you wish you could touch me right now,” you press on, voice soft and airy, deliberately pornographic. you want her to feel it, to ache for it.

her smirk twitches, her cocky composure wavering just slightly. her pupils are blown wide, her chest rising and falling just a little too fast “you have no idea,” she mutters, voice rough.

your lips curve, heat pooling in your stomach at the way she’s looking at you, at the hunger there. “oh, i think i do.”

she exhales sharply, her fingers twitching against the sheets. “you gonna show me?”

“you first.”

Jinx sighs, feigning disappointment. “so demanding.”

“so stubborn.”

she only grins in return, dragging the moment out, making you wait. instead of stripping fully, she lifts her shirt a little higher—her fingers skimming over her stomach, tracing lazy circles against soft and creamy skin, dipping dangerously low.

so close, but not quite.

“i love when you try to play this game,” she murmurs, her voice a slow, delicious drawl. “really, i do.”

the shift in control is so quick you barely catch it before it’s slipping through your fingers. she feels your resolve waver, and that smug, knowing look is back in full force. “i’ll give you one more chance,” she says, tilting her head. “be a good girl and give in now, and i might go easy on you.”

you suck in a breath, pulse hammering in your throat. you could keep fighting, keep teasing, keep pretending you have the upper hand; but Jinx knows you too fucking well.

you exhale slowly before reaching for the sash of your robe. the silk slips open, revealing smooth, bare skin beneath. “happy now?” you groan, falling back against your pillows.

she drags her teeth over her bottom lip, eyes locked onto your every movement. “getting there.” god, she hates that there’s a screen between you—that you’re right there, and yet still untouchable.

“your turn.”

she shivers as she lets her hand drift lower, lazily pulling her knees toward her chest. “you gonna watch real close for me?” her voice is candy-sweet, purposefully cheeky.

“wouldn’t miss a thing,” you rasp, gripping your sheets in anticipation.

her smirk deepens. good.

“you know,” Jinx purrs, her voice laced with amusement, “there are people out there who’d drop a stupid amount of cash on a camgirl for a show like this.” she pauses, manicured nails dragging over the lacy material of her panties. “but me? i do it just for you.” she pulls the fabric upward, between her puffy folds, whining softly as it digs into her needy clit.

you whimper. actually whimper just from that alone. “fuck.”

“already?” she can feel the weight of your attention, and she relishes it. “you like seeing me like this?”

you swallow hard, fingers moving in slow, teasing circles over your own skin, making yourself shudder. “just keep going.” you want her hands on you, slow and cruel fingers exploring your body like she has all the time in the world. watching her through the screen, the way her hips are rolling lazily against the fabric of her panties, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she grins at you—it’s not enough.

she hums in pleasure, finally releasing the material with a shaky sigh. “tell me what you’re thinking.”

you inhale sharply, eyes locked onto Jinx like you want to devour her. “i’m thinking about how much i hate this distance.”

she chuckles, breathless. “no shit.”

you smirk back, but it falters as your hand moves again, a quiet gasp slipping past your lips as you unceremoniously sink a finger past your aching entrance.

her eyes widen. “fuck. you’re already—”

you nod, eyelids fluttering, and she groans as she finally sheds her loose top to give you something to really look at, pink nipples already hardened and begging for attention. “wish it was me?”

“so bad.” your breath hitches as her perky tits come into view, admiring the way the blue clouds of her tattoo curl above her right nipple; you figure it must’ve hurt getting it done, but you know she enjoyed every second of it—probably let out a small whimper at some point, too.

she hooks her thumbs under the elastic clinging to her hips, planting her feet on the bed as she finally slides her panties down her thighs, kicking them off. “bet you’re so wet for me.”

you moan, pushing your finger deeper as she displays her pink cunt, spreading her own slick folds so you can have your fill. “come on, pretty girl,” she coaxes, voice honeyed and slow. “don’t you wanna let me see?”

you barely hesitate before you scoot closer, letting her see just how much you want this, how much you want her.

“you getting shy on me now?” she tuts, collecting her moisture and dragging it upward, playing with her sensitive bud. “add one more.”

your body tenses at the command, and you comply, easily stuffing a second finger in. she lets out a quiet, satisfied hum, her gaze locked onto every tiny movement, every shift of your hips, every sharp inhale.

“that’s it. good fucking girl,” she murmurs. “feel me?”

“mmm, yeah,” you exhale sharply, your body twitching as you pump in and out at a steady rhythm. “i do.”

she mewls as she applies more pressure against herself, slowly spiraling from the image alone. “how’s it feel?”

you tilt your head back, fully sinking into it. “like your hands are all over me.”

“they would be.”

you whimper, pleasure curling in your gut at the thought of Jinx’s touch instead of your own, her body pressing you down, making you take it. but it’s just you and the screens between you, the grainy flicker of video quality that blurs her edges but never dulls the intensity in her eyes. “where would you touch me first?”

she exhales, free hand trailing to her chest and pinching a hardened peak, before rolling it between her thumb and index finger, mewling like a needy cat from the added stimulation. “mhm, here… and then—” her back arches softly as she teases her tiny hole with shallow thrusts, like she’s touching you instead. “here.”

you let out a ragged breath, your body tightening. “Jinx—”

“look at you,” she murmurs, her fingers moving a little faster. “fucking yourself for me. so needy.” how ironic, you think.

your thighs press together for a second before you force them back open, knowing she’s watching. “shut up,” you mutter, but your voice shakes, pleasure fraying the edges of your words.

“you wish i was stretching you out instead?” she presses, voice dripping with mock sympathy, filthy and thick with heat. “mhm, i know you do.”

you groan, your free hand fisting into the sheets to anchor yourself.

“easy, baby,” she croons, her teasing momentarily softening as your frustration spills over. but her voice—low, syrup-thick—only makes it worse. “wish it was your mouth instead.”

she leans in slightly, her eyes locking onto the webcam with a sharp, predatory gleam, like she’s seeing you, like she’s right there. “wish I could ride that pretty tongue,” she breathes, her lips curling into something downright sinful. but then her voice dips into that slow, taunting drawl again. “you’d love that, wouldn’t you? getting me all messy, still tasting me hours later?”

you’re grateful for your vivid imagination—because right now, you can practically taste her. you imagine it would be rich and heady, intoxicating. salty-sweet, like sweat-dampened skin kissed by heat. you can almost feel the way her juices would linger, sticky and warm, a sinful kind of aftertaste that would make you chase it, again and again, never quite satisfied, never quite finished.

your movements grow frantic, your body desperate, chasing something just out of reach. “you’ll ruin me,” you gasp, your voice breaking, raw with need.

she lets out a sweet, knowing chuckle. because of course she will—the screen between you is nothing but a temporary barrier to something inevitable.

“go faster,” you whimper pleadingly, needing her to feel it, needing her to match you.

and Jinx—despite all her previous teasing—obeys instantly, fingers thrusting into her needy hole and pulling wet squelching sounds from it, arousal dripping onto the sheets below. her whole body shudders at the image of you on top of her, taking what you need, fucking using her.

you let out a soft hum in response, low and breathy. “feel good, baby?”

she groans, brows knitting together as she feels the way her stomach clenches, the way every muscle in her body coils tight like a bowstring about to snap. “you know it does.”

“you gonna come with me?” your eyes flutter shut for a moment before snapping back open, locking onto hers through the screen. “you look so fucking pretty when you do.” her hips jerk under her own touch, and you press on, “pretend i’m right there—pretend i’m inside you.”

she whimpers, her whole body shaking now. “i’m—oh fuck—”

your pulse is pounding in your ears, your body thrumming, her every movement sending heat through your veins. your breaths tangle through the speakers, sharp and uneven, and you can feel yourself slipping, muscles tensing tighter and tighter—

and then she moans, soft and wrecked, and you hold back just enough to catch a glimpse of her face twisting in pleasure before you follow. your back arches, breath hitching in your throat as the world shatters in a rush of heat and white noise.

somewhere through the haze, Jinx hears her name spilling from your lips, breathy and desperate, like she’s right there, pressed against you, instead of miles away.

for a long moment, there’s only the distant hum of the laptop and the sound of breathing—heavy, shaky, spent—as you ride the same wave that crashed over the both of you.

“holy shit,” she pants, voice wrecked as she drags a hand through her messy hair. “i felt you.”

you let out a breathless laugh, watching as her juices trail down to her peach-shaped ass, glistening in the faint glow of her screen, wishing you could be the one to lick her clean. “mmm. that good, huh?”

Jinx finally cracks a lazy, exhausted grin. “imagine how much better it’ll be when i’m actually there.” she exhales sharply, taking in the sight of you—flushed, glowing, perfect.

your gaze darkens, lips curling into something wicked.

“then hurry the fuck up and come get me.”

oh, she would.

the idea was there, execution debatable 🩷