#trying to predict her behavior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aeyumicore · 11 months ago

Text

misty invasion - hidden motive

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: zayne x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 3.6k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, slight spoilers to ‘hidden motive’ (zayne’s misty invasion card), knee humping, titty sucking, titty sucking through clothes, titty nibbling (zayne is a boobie fiend), slight predator and prey, switch!zayne (he’s dom but kinda needy and vulnerable), use of Y/N, sub!reader, unprotected sex, cumming in panties, reader on top

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | xav's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: haiiii guyssss i decided to upload the boys’ misty invasion fics one at a time! first up is baby zayne <3 his card inspired me so much, it was so intimate and passionate.

next up will probably be sylus, hopefully will post in maybe 3ish days! I haven’t watched raf’s or xav’s but i have ideas for them. I’m excited to write, i’m praying i don’t burn out…hope you guys enjoy :) love ya’ll! also i am more active on twitter if you guys would like to follow me there, my link is in my masterpost!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

Spontaneity was not something Zayne preferred to indulge in.

He had enough of it in his hectic surgery schedule, so in his personal life he tried to keep things as predictable as possible.

Yet he was graced with an absolute menace of a girlfriend, who, from the second she walked into his life, created chaos in her wake. Always running off on faraway Hunter missions, telling him only after she’d already left. Coming back injured, with a frustratingly adorable and sheepish smile, trying, and failing, to convince him she was fine.

God, you drove him utterly insane.

Which is why now, the normally composed, self-assured, and controlled, chief cardiac surgeon was unraveling at the seams beneath your seemingly innocent touch.

“Why does it smell sweeter than usual?” Zayne’s voice is raspy and breathless from the torrid and heated kiss the two of you had just been locked in. The razor blade and shaving cream had long since been discarded and forgotten.

Before you can respond, he’s pulling your wrist towards his reddened face, making you fall on top of him from your seat on his lap. You’re left straddling his one knee as you fall forward. Your wrist grips the leather recliner cushion by his head to catch you as he cups your lower back, just above your rear, pressing your body deeper into his.

He nuzzles his face into your wrist that's planted beside his head, absolutely enraptured by the scent of your lotion. The scent of you.

Taking another deef lung full of your pheromones mixed with your fruity lotion, his intense hazel eyes desperately seek yours, like he’s conveying his desires with the golden green orbs. You open your mouth to question his unusual behavior, but Zayne’s one step ahead of you. His knee raises to push your backside towards him, making you lose your grip completely and collapse completely atop him.

The recliner chair swings wildly at your combined movements, and you find yourself struggling to steady yourself. In your brief moment of helplessness, Zayne hoists you towards him, burying his face into your chest. His lips find your collarbone instantly, his knee nestled between your thighs to help balance you.

You gasp at his tongue lapping languidly at your fragrant skin, your fingers grasping his shoulders as he sucks at your sensitive collar, no doubt leaving a bruise. His lips dance dangerously close to where your silk camisole hangs off the swell of your breasts.

“Are you taking a break from work?” you ask between your raspy pants. Zayne continues to indulge in your skin, moving lower until his face meets your hardened nipples, separated only by a thin layer of silk. His tongue softly brushes against the soft material of your top, stroking at the swollen peaks through the smooth fabric. His knee grinds into your thighs, craving the warmth and dampness of his most favorite place.

He has to physically pry himself away from your chest, a dusting of deep peach painting his flustered face.

“Do I look like I can work right now?” His question is simple, but the aggressive demand that hides underneath them is urgent, nearly feral. You don’t get a chance to get another word out before he’s sinking back into the warmth of your chest.

This time, his lips close over your entire nipple through the soft silk of your sleeping cami, making you cry out in surprise. Your fingers grip his hair as he absolutely devours you through your top, the silk dampening with his saliva. His teeth come down to graze your sensitive peaks and you have to push him back before you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“...You don’t have to be so intense,” you urge him, despite the clear and inarguable fact that you want more. Clear from the way the panties you’d slept in start to dampen against his bare knee that peeks out from his robe.

Zayne looks unamused, almost sulky, as he mutters, “No working, and not allowed to do anything else…” He looks up at you, mischief briefly flashing across his eyes

He sits up, wrapping his strong arm around your shoulder and bringing you to him in an intimate embrace. You flail forward at his sudden movements, the rocking of the recliner chair making it impossible to find any balance. He takes the opportunity to drive his knee deeper into your core, making you moan lewdly. His chin rests on your bare shoulder, words hot and breathy against your pulsing neck, “Well then…my love, what exactly do you allow me to do?”

His actions make it difficult for you to speak, brain focussing solely on the pleasure he’s both giving you and keeping from you. At your wordless moans of excitement, Zayne continues.

“Will you allow me to do this?” he rocks his knee deeper into you, effectively humping you against his leg. Your nails dig into his muscled back at the unexpected ecstasy, his knee rubbing against your clit in the most sinfully perfect ways.

Zayne hisses at the feeling of the sting of your nails, only making him more desperate to take you right there on his living room chair, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

With his lips at your neck, he slowly and torturously pulls the flimsy straps of your loose top down, until your breasts are pressing against his exposed chest underneath his luxurious bathrobe.

His hands descend to hold your waist firmly, gently pulling you away from his chest so his hungry mouth can find your soft breasts again.

You throw your head backwards when his warm and wet mouth captures your bare skin into its embrace. Zayne is absolutely relentless, bouncing you filthily on his thigh as he absolutely devours your breasts. His teeth and tongue work in tandem to suckle pretty little bruises into the swell of your chest, and around your pert nipples.

Zayne looks up at you from underneath his eyelashes, heated irises drinking in your quivering form atop him. His erection pushes against the feeble restraints of his tied robe, creating a tent in his lap that twitches with anticipation. It brushes against your stomach as he grinds his knee into you, giving him just enough friction to need to bite into your breast to hold back his desperate moans.

You cling to him, trusting him to take all control of your body and of your pleasure. Your nails continue to draw angry red welts into his back, as you feel the familiar coiling of ecstasy in your gut.

You tap desperately on his shoulders, not wanting to make a mess in your panties that are already sticking to your wet folds.

“Z-Zayne, wait I —”

He brings his thumb to your lips, pressing softly against your parted lips, all the while his own lips never leave your aching tits. Against them, he mumbles, “Don’t deny me. Please.”

You’re briefly snapped out of the mind numbing pleasure of your quickly approaching orgasm at the sound of his plea, bordering on a feral demand. It’s so rare to hear him so unraveled and desperate, to hear him demanding things from you. A man who never asked anything of anyone, especially not of you, the one person he treasured more than life itself. It’s so rare and raw that you can’t help but want to give him everything he wants.

You bury your face into the top of his head, his addicting scent invading your senses, and you kiss him gently, “Never, I would never deny you.”

Zayne inhales sharply, groaning at your sweet words, ”Good girl.” He pulls you down fully on top of him again, the leather chair reclining until it’s nearly flat. Your ass is arched into the air, your face pressed into his chest, as his knee pushes into you with renewed vigor.

His lips find themselves sucking urgently at your nipples again, his knee moving faster, wanting to see his beautiful girl come undone all over his thighs. His tongue lathers tortuous circles around your hardened and swollen peaks, soothing the areas in which his teeth bite down softly.

“Let me see you, love. Please. I haven’t gotten to feel you since you ran off into danger without telling me, again.”

Your heart clenched as you realized that was where all this desperation and vulnerability was coming from. You want to apologize, but his unforgiving knee against your weeping cunt made it nearly impossible to get the syllables out.

“I-I’m – nnghh – m’sorry.”

His hand roughly grabs your chin, turning you to level with his smoldering hazel eyes. His voice is gruff and inquisitive, eyebrows raised in doubt, “Are you, sweetheart?”

You whine at his words, his actions only becoming more relentless, as if forcing the responses he wants out of you, “I am!”

The corner of his lips curl up, so faint you can barely see it. An arrogance Zayne so rarely lets show.

“Then show me. Show me how sorry you are.” With each demand, his leg drives harshly into your clit. You nod vigorously, eager to please him.

His darkened green eyes cling to yours, his voice deceptively calm and soothing, “Say it, love.”

You want to respond but the way he’s punctuating his every word with a hard intentional thrust of his knee into your aching cunt makes it impossible to do anything but moan lewdly into his ear, your head hanging down with your hair falling over your eyes.

He pinches your abused nipple, guiding your eyes back to his demanding hazel ones, the golden flecks glowing brightly as they savor the sight of you.

“I-I’m – unghh – s-sorry. Should’ve told you. I’ll be good, just-just let me cum f’you!” You bury your face into his neck, embarrassed by the words coming out of your mouth but unable to stop them all the same.

“Let me see you,” he grunts. When you lift your head, bleary eyes fixing on his, he smiles. It's faint but effervescently warm.

“That’s my girl. Now tell me, hm? How is my beautiful girl going to make it up to me?”

Your eyes fill with tears, overwhelmed by the pleasure his knee brings you, and the raw feelings that are masked behind his lewd words. His facade of filthy demands that hide the suffocating emotions, the same emotions he’d felt when he saw your name on the list of hunters dispatched to the wanderer quarantine zone. Emotions that he was now taking out on your ever-so responsive body.

“Anything you want Zayne, anything,” you gasp, your eyes locked into his as he continues to hump his knee into you,

His breath catches audibly at your words, pulling your chin towards him to capture your lips in a raw and passionate kiss, one that felt like it might stop time and space as you knew it.

At his intensely possessive lips, his throaty demands, his insistent knee wedged into your cunt, it isn’t long before you come undone all over his knee. You cum with a strangled cry, your fingers digging crescents into his muscled shoulders. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of the filthy dampness against the fabric of your panties. Zayne groans at the angelic sight of your face contorted into pure pleasure, his erection painfully hard against his silken robe, pressed into your quivering belly. The heavenly vision of you cumming was almost enough to have him erupting right against your stomach.

“That’s it my love, just like that,” Zayne coos as you cum over his knee, still rocking gently into you as he helps you ride out the waves of your ecstasy. His slender fingers rub soothing circles into the small of your back, cooling your burning skin.

“So good, so good for me,” he murmurs into your hair, your head resting on his shoulders as the post-orgasm tremors come and go. His lips press into your scalp, the moment feeling absolutely and idyllically perfect.

You’re so blissed out you almost don’t feel him shifting beneath you, slender fingers pulling your soaked panties to the side. It isn’t until you feel the all-too familiar feeling of his fat leaking cockhead nestled between your folds, right at the entrance to your most sensitive parts, that your bleary eyes open.

You watch him, cock in his fist, swiping up and down your drenched lips, head hung down in pleasure as he watches the way your pussy quite literally invites him in. A thin layer of sweat glistens on his furrowed forehead, his restraint hanging on by a thread as he tries to calm himself before he burrows into you like an absolute animal.

You grab him by his chin, guiding him to look up at you. You take his throbbing manhood into your own fingers, in place of his. He stares at you heatedly, your languid actions driving him to the edge of insanity. Your body quivers as his cockhead catches on your clit, your body still reeling from the orgasm you’d just experienced on his knee.

Zayne’s hand encompasses yours, your joined palms holding his aching cock at the base. He repeats his plea from earlier, his voice raspy and breathless, “Show me.”

His desperation makes you bite your lip in anticipation, and you nod before sinking down onto his thick member. Your body grapples with the stretch as you slide further and further down, as Zayne writhes below you, panting rapidly and fingers digging into your waist.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he rasps, fingers bruising your hips with the intensity in which they grab you, “Give me more, please love.”

You grin at his rare pleas, teasing him by stopping halfway, not letting him enter you fully. His desperate moans and grunts make you giggle, and you relish in the way his large hands hold you so possessively, in the way only you are able to make him lose control.

Zayne chuckles darkly at your teasing antics, “You don’t sound very apologetic, sweetheart.” He raises his eyebrow at you, in a playful warning. You open your mouth to speak, but it’s cut off with a scream when he slams you down on his thick length, his strong grip pulling you down until your ass meets his thighs.

The impact of your thighs against Zayne’s lap is sinful. Zayne groans at the way he can feel the globes of your ass shake against him, your pussy clenching to accommodate the sudden stretch. And Zayne doesn’t even let you ride him, instead using the raw strength of his arms and thighs to bob you up and down his length, in a rhythm that had you seeing white.

“Nnghh – P-Please Zayne!” you plead, but for what you’re not even sure. You certainly don’t want him to stop or slow down. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, holding on while he bounces you like you weigh absolutely nothing.

Zayne grunts in response, too lost in the feeling of how your walls cling to him, how your body responds to his touch and thrusts like he owns you.

“Always — hah — throwing yourself — fuck! — into danger. Without telling me,” he grits out, his thrusts into you harsh and passionate all at the same time. You can tell by his tone that he’s more hurt than he is angry about you running off to the frontlines of a nearby wanderer quarantine. The deep timbre of his voice conveys more worry and vulnerability than it does domination and accusation.

Your heart flutters at how adorably pouty Zayne was being, in his own way. It was rare for him to act on his emotions like this, and it reminded you of how far the two of you had come. His hands gripped you forcibly, almost as if he was afraid you’d disappear on him again. His face buried into your chest, savoring your intoxicating scent like it was the air he needed to survive. The way your warm plush skin tasted on his tongue and felt against his canines.

So you let him throw you around like a fucktoy, letting him feel how absolutely and irrevocably his, you were. You held him tightly to your chest, kissing the shell of his ear as he rutted into you like a madman, suckling on your breasts like he thought you might lactate for him. The blend of possessive domination and raw neediness was driving you insane.

Zayne tears himself away from your chest, looking up at you with heated expectation, his eyes hazy with animalistic desire, “Nothing to say, Y/N?” He punctuates his question with a harsh thrust that prods against your g-spot, all the way to your cervix.

You gasp out, almost choking for air, “M’sorry Zayne. I-I’ll make it up t’y-you.” His fingers grip you tighter as he relentlessly bounces you on his lap, his fat cock bullying into your g spot. Your teeth dig into your lip as you feel your cunt trembling, close to release.

Zayne nestles his face into the area where your neck meets your collarbone, gasping out as you get increasingly tighter, until it feels like he’s suffocating with pleasure.

“Let me cum in you,” he growls, moving back to your chest, nipping at the swell of your breasts, lapping at a reddened bruise he’d unwittingly left there. Zayne normally wasn’t keen on these juvenile displays of affection, leaving hickeys like a horny highschooler. But something about the way you constantly threw yourself into the face of danger for others, left him uncharacteristically uncontrollable and unrestrained.

“Let me leave my mark in you so you know better than to go running off into danger without me again.”

A string of whimpers escapes your mouth at his possessive yet sensitive words, clearly still miffed at the memory of your injured state after saving the pair of young siblings in the quarantine zone. Your talented, self-controlled, god-like surgeon, falling apart at the seams, for you.

It’s all enough to have you at the cusp of another mind-bending orgasm, your eyes rolling up as you try to warn him, “Z-Zayne, c-close.”

Zayne chuckles as you warn him. How adorable you were to think he needed to be told, as if he didn’t know your body like the back of his hand. That he couldn’t feel the telltale way your pussy pulsed and quivered around his cock, so tightly it threatened to break him.

“Look at me, my love. I need to see you.” He rams up into you, hands possessively on your hips, bringing you down forcefully with each upward thrust. You focus your eyes on him, eyelids hooded with an exhausted pleasure.

Through your blurry vision, you can see that Zayne is close too. His jaw ticks dangerously, teeth grit to hold the swears back. His golden emerald eyes meet yours, and he smiles, his fingers threading into the back of your head.

“Just like that, look at me when you cum,” he demands, pulling your face forward to capture your lips in a final kiss that would have you tumbling down the cliff of ecstasy. His tongue demands entry, teasing the seam of your lips. His fingers cup your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone.

You moan into his mouth as your body succumbs to yet another orgasm, your fingernails scraping into his back. Zayne groans into you as the sting of your nails against his skin intensifies the pleasure of your pussy practically wringing his cock dry, forcing the orgasm out of him.

It’s a passionate and furious gnashing of tongue and skin, his thighs, wet with your release, pounding up into you. Your combined whimpers of pleasure mix with the wet smacks of your ass against his thighs, creating the most sinful blanket of lust-filled ecstasy in Zayne’s living room.

His seed erupts inside you, hot, plenty, and demanding. Demanding to be inside you. Demanding to claim you.

Zayne’s thrusts slow, but don’t stop, plugging you completely full of him. He finally pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as goosebumps of overstimulation litter his skin. He keeps going until you tap his shoulders in surrender. He chuckles, lifting you easily off of him, removing himself from you.

Your thighs quiver as you remain seated on Zayne’s lap, his fingers rubbing delicate circles on your waist. His lips brush gentle kisses on your collar, savoring the moment of intimacy and adoration that falls over the two of you.

Zayne shifts so that he can look at you, cupping your chin gently in his fingers.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His deep voice is filled with concern, eyes searching yours, “Was I too…enthusiastic?”

You giggle tiredly, your voice filled with playful teasing, “Maybe a bit. But I loved it. I love you.”

Zayne chuckles, bringing your face back down to rest on his chest, his bare skin peeking through the robe that had become untied amidst all the movement. He cradles your head against his body, his arms secure and protective against you, his lips pressing kisses into the top of your head.

“Can you blame me?” He presses his lips into the space below your ear, leaving a trail of kissing down your neck and along your shoulders.

“When you’re constantly worried about the woman you love…it can leave one a bit pent up.”

His lips on your singed skin has you shivering against him, your fingers trailing up and down his chest, “And are you still…pent up?”

The corner of Zayne’s lips quirk up, the blood rushing back south as he feels you writhe against his most fleeting touches. Always so responsive to his touch.

Zayne uses one hand to guide your chin up towards him, his smile hungry and affectionate all at the same time. His other hand holds yours, and you jolt off his chest when he wraps your fingers around something wet, hot, and hard.

“You could say that.”

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

8K notes · View notes

planetaryupscaled · 1 month ago

Text

Claiming Naivety

Male OC x Eunchae

Tags: 15k, smut, first time, creampie, oral, anal, gb, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Eunchae was enjoying breakfast with her sister on a Saturday morning. They always made time like this to hang out. After all, they were the only family they each had. Eunchae's sister had dedicated her life to giving her all the love she could.

Eunchae, now that she was eighteen, had come to appreciate all her sister had done for her. The past year of her sister’s life was split between working and caring for her. But now that she was an adult herself and about to head to college in a few months, she hoped her sister would make time for herself again. Find new hobbies, make friends, and maybe even find a romantic relationship.

Eunchae herself hasn’t explored the romantic world either, but for different reasons. She dedicated herself to her studies as well as her love of art and music. While she may have lacked boyfriends, she made up for it with friends. In particular, she had four close friends: Eunwoo, Doyun, Chanwoo, and Minho. Her sister had teased her in the past for having four guys as best friends and predicted she would end up dating them. However, Eunchae asserted that wasn’t going to happen, proving herself correct. These guys were her friends, and no other funny business had ever occurred between them.

“Are your friends coming over tonight to hang out again?” her sister asked. Eunchae nodded. Her house was a frequent hangout spot for them. Her sister enjoyed having her friends around, too, and they often called her the ‘cool sister.’

“I’m glad to hear it. Now that you guys are adults, I can’t help but notice how handsome they are,” she said with a sly smile.

“Unnie! Gross! Those are my friends you’re talking about,” Eunchae said, shocked that her sister would comment on her friend’s appearance.

“Relax, I’m just saying. They wouldn’t be interested in me anyway. I’m older, but can you imagine...,” she said, looking off into the distance.

“No! I can’t and won’t imagine that. Can we please talk about something else,” Eunchae said in protest.

Hearing that her sister even entertained the idea of being anything resembling romantic with her friends was beyond embarrassing. She appreciated that her sister hadn’t had any contact with a man in years, but she could start by dating men her age.

However, Eunchae calmed herself down; her sister was just teasing. Even if she was interested in her friends in that way, as her sister said, she’s older than them. Eunchae even doubted how much her friends were interested in romantic encounters at the moment. None of them had girlfriends or gone on dates, as far as she knew. The five of them just wanted to have some fun.

That evening, the four guys arrived together at Eunchae’s. She had made plans for them to play a board game. “Hey guys, I got the game set up in the backroom. I even added in the bird expansion, so there are even more bird powers you can use!” Eunchae excitedly said.

But as she led them to the room where she expected them to spend the next hours playing the game, the four boys were momentarily distracted by the arrival of her sister. “Hello, boys! It’s so nice to see you all. I trust you all are staying fit as ever?” she said to them.

“We try our best, Noona,” Eunwoo said in a flirty tone that alarmed Eunchae.

“You’re looking fit yourself,” Doyun added.

“Oh, stop it, you guys. You’re going to tempt me into doing something bad...,” she said. What the hell does that mean, Eunchae thought. She started pushing her friends down the hall, away from her sister.

Eunchae said, “Come on, I need to explain to you guys how the egg-laying mechanism works in the game.”

Finally, distancing herself from her sister's odd behavior, Eunchae got to work walking them through the board game she intended for all five of them to play over the next few hours. Ten minutes later, she was in the middle of explaining how food selection works. “If the dice show the same food, you can re-roll. But that’s optional,” she said as she showed them an example.

"Wow, Noona looked amazing! Has she been hitting the gym, Eunchae?" Minho asked, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“She’s been taking walks more, I guess. Anyway, you can only take food when you do the collection action...,” she said, changing the subject back to the game before getting interrupted once more.

“She was being really friendly with us. Even flirty,” Chanwoo remarked.

“Yeah, she kept talking about how handsome you guys were earlier today. She even wondered out loud if you guys were interested in her. It was pretty embarrassing to hear. Can you imagine!” Eunchae said with a laugh. She felt bad making fun of her sister like this, but her behavior was so odd today.

“Your sister interested in us?” Doyun asked, surprised.

“That’s not what I said. She was wondering if you all were interested in her. God, I feel cringy even telling you guys about it,” Eunchae said, clarifying. “But let’s talk about how nectar is used.” However, the boys were becoming less interested in the game.

“Dude, she said we were handsome. She hasn’t been with anyone lately. Do you think we might have a shot with her?” Doyun asked the group.

Eunchae’s eyes lit up in horror. These guys were actually interested in her sister? “Whoa, guys. She’s my sister. Can we not talk about her like this?” she asked.

“We’re not teasing, Eunchae. I don’t know about the other guys, but I think your sister is a stone-cold fox. I’m sorry, but if she is attracted to me, I’m taking my shot,” Doyun said.

The other three voiced their strong agreement. “Let’s go talk to her. She might be on board for anything,” Eunwoo suggested. This prompted the four boys to stand up.

Eunchae ran to the door and blocked it. Their willingness and her sister’s flirty demeanor tonight created a bad combination. She didn’t need her friends and her sister engaging in... funny business.

“Guys, wait. I’m asking you, as your long-term friend here, please don’t go flirt with my sister,” Eunchae said, appealing to the four guys.

They all looked at each other before Doyun replied.

“To be clear, we’re not looking to flirt. Let’s stop beating around the bush here and be clear. We want to have sex with your sister, and we think we have a real shot tonight at actually making this happen.”

While Eunchae didn’t say this, she agreed with her friends. With the way her sister has been talking today, she might let her friends seduce her. Eunchae did not need to have her friends turning her sister into their fuck buddy.

“Don’t do this, guys. She’s my sister,” Eunchae said desperately.

“We’re not asking you to watch or anything, Eunchae. We’re adults now. Your sister is an adult woman—a woman with desires and the ability to give consent. I’m sorry that you are uncomfortable with the situation, but you don’t have the right to interfere if everyone involved is on board starting a sexual relationship,” Minho explained.

She understood his point, but her point was she didn’t want her sister fucking her friends.

They started crowding Eunchae, trying to get past. The second they do, there would be nothing stopping them from starting a five-way orgy with her sister. Her mind raced with thoughts of what she could say to convince them. Suddenly, a viable idea occurred to her, and she voiced it.

“How about I flash you guys my underwear?” Eunchae blurted out.

All four of them halted their attempt to leave the room, and her cheeks flushed red. She couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth. She nearly spoke up, declaring it to be a joke, but she had managed to stop them.

“Really? Or are you just fooling us?” Doyun asked skeptically.

Eunwoo was also in doubt. “You’ve never been one for showing off. You wear a t-shirt and swim trunks over your one-piece bathing suit when we go to the pool.”

“I’m... not kidding. But only a quick flash! Just so you guys will calm down, and we can play the game,” Eunchae said with a shaky voice.

The four of them backed up and watched Eunchae with interest. They seemed to expect her to flash them right then and there. Eunchae’s mind raced with panicked thoughts. She had never done anything like this, and she worried she was opening a door she could never close. Would these guys expect her to do this again in the future? Would they start to see her as more than a friend? She wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

But in the short term, she needed to do this. Their having sex with her sister would change their relationship far more than briefly seeing her underwear. As she felt her face heat up, Eunchae gripped the bottom of her sweater tightly. Closing her eyes, she quickly lifted her shirt, feeling the cooler air hit her stomach and upper body chest. She then pulled her sweater back down. They saw her bra, even if just for a second. It was done. She opened her eyes to the smiling faces of her friends, still staring at her chest, even though the underwear was now not visible.

“Okay. Let’s get back to the game,” Eunchae said in a quiet voice.

But the guys didn’t follow her back to the table. “You only showed us your bra. You still need to flash us your panties,” Minho said.

“What?” Eunchae said, turning around in shock. “I didn’t say anything about my panties. That’s asking too much, guys!”

They looked disappointed but understanding. “You don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, Eunchae. We’ll come back after we’re done to start the game,” Minho said as, once again, the guys headed towards the door and into the welcoming arms of Eunchae’s sister.

“Okay, look!” Eunchae yelled as she lifted her skirt, showing the four guys her panties. They all spun around and witnessed her underwear for the first time. Only this thin fabric was between them and their female friend’s most intimate area.

Confident they had seen what they requested, she lowered the skirt back down, restoring her back into a decent state. “We need to see the back of your panties as well,” Doyun added.

“What? Why?” Eunchae asked the question even though she could guess why.

Were they really so interested in her body that they needed to see her in her panties from different angles? The guys didn’t answer, so rather than wait for them to start walking towards the door again, Eunchae rolled her eyes and turned around. Lifting her skirt yet again, the four men enjoyed yet another view of her body that no man has yet seen until today.

The flowing air she felt on her cheeks reminded her that this underwear didn’t cover as much of her as she would have liked. She let the skirt fall back into place and felt relieved this was done. She hoped her friends would agree not to speak of this embarrassing day again.

“Wow, that was pretty hot, Eunchae. I didn’t know you had an exhibitionist side to you like that,” Chanwoo replied, still thinking about his friend in this new, sexy light.

“I didn’t do it for any weird reason like that! I just did it to convince you guys not to go try and get with my sister!” Eunchae replied in protest.

“Eunchae... why would giving us a quick flash of your underwear stop us from fucking your sister? She’s going to show us a lot more than just two seconds of her panties,” Doyun pointed out. Eunchae couldn’t believe this. Had she just embarrassed herself for no reason?

“Well then, how about I strip to my underwear and stay that way for the evening,” she offered, her muscles tensing up as she thought how shameful this was going to be for her.

“I’d love that,” Minho said, taking a seat as he looked forward to a much longer view of his longtime female friend in her unmentionables. The others followed suit. Once again, the naive teenager found herself in a situation where her friends anxiously awaited her to expose her body to them.

“You guys don’t really want to see me in my underwear, do you?” she asked them with a nervous laugh. Her friends responded with enthusiastic nods as they eyed her body.

Seeing no other path forward except letting her friends seek out her horny sister, Eunchae’s shaky hands reached for the bottom of her sweater. As she pulled it up and felt her stomach get exposed, she told herself it was nothing they hadn’t already seen, albeit briefly. The sweater rose to her face, and she knew that once again, her bra, holding her ample breasts, was on display for her friends.

“Fantastic,” Eunwoo commented as she placed her top on the ground.

The young lady instinctively wanted to cover her chest, but she knew she needed to finish the job first. She turned to face her friends before starting to push her skirt down, as she didn’t want them to see her rear end. But both Doyun and Chanwoo walked behind her, making that plan null.

The skirt slid down over the cheeks of her butt as she was again reminded that these panties didn’t cover the entirety of her ass. Trying to avoid bending over, Eunchae let the skirt fall to the floor. Her task was completed, but she now faced the humiliation of playing the game all evening in this state. Her friends would be able to view almost all of her exposed body whenever they wanted. She felt like a tramp, but her sister would be free from the eager hands of these four familiar guys.

“I’ll stay like this if you guys promise not to look at me too much. Now getting back to the player boards...,” Eunchae said, desperate to get back to her instructions once again.

But as always, her friends interjected before she could continue. “Eunchae, this is really hot. But your sister is going to show us her whole body, not just tease us in her underwear,” Doyun pointed out.

“God, I can’t wait to see her tits. So big and juicy. Fuck...,” Chanwoo said while mimicking their shape with his hands.

“Stop describing my sister’s tits! Jesus! I stripped to my underwear, and you guys still aren’t satisfied. Throw me a bone here,” the young woman complained.

“I’m looking forward to throwing your sister my bone,” Minho remarked.

“Shut up!” Eunchae had never seen this side of her friends. Were they really this anxious to fuck someone? And why did that person have to be her sister? But she understood their point about seeing her sister naked, as weird as that point was to make, countering it would be insanity. She would have to show them something she hadn’t planned to reveal until she got married in her late thirties: her naked body.

“Maybe I...,” she started to say, but then lost her words. The four guys waited for her to finish her thought, but she continued to stammer.

“Maybe you what?” Chanwoo asked curiously.

“Eunchae, you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” If she wanted to keep these guys from knowing what her sister’s naked body looked like, she did, Eunchae thought.

“Maybe I am willing to show you guys more,” she said, finally getting her words out.

After a brief pause, the boys sought clarification. “Like your boobs?” Eunwoo asked.

“And maybe your pussy too? Your sister will certainly show us hers.” Doyun pointed out.

“You should get on a table and do a strip tease!” Chanwoo added.

“And then give us lap dances like our own personal stripper!” Minho said excitedly.

When Eunchae said she was willing to show more, she meant maybe a quick flash of her chest while keeping her nipples concealed possible. But before she could say anything, her friends turned this offer into her acting as a full-on stripper who showed every inch of her body and even sat in their laps. Any compromise she offered from here would only create disappointment that would drive them into the arms and other parts of her willing sister.

“Trust me, guys. You don’t want to see me naked. It’s not worth it. I’m not that attractive,” Eunchae said, vocalizing her self-doubts.

“Are you kidding? Seeing you naked has been a dream of mine since we met. But you have never shown any interest in that kind of stuff till now,” Doyun admitted. The other three were in total agreement. Eunchae was taken aback at this admission. Her friends thought about her naked? This was such a foreign concept to Eunchae. The thought of someone seeing her as a sex object was confusing. But she shook off this strange thought. She had a choice to make. Either strip nude for her friends or send them off to fuck her sister. The choice was clear, albeit incredibly embarrassing.

“Where do you want me to do this?” she asked as her four friends’ faces lit up with the realization that this was going to happen. They led her to the game table, where they pushed game pieces aside and helped her onto the table. Standing on the table, she realized how shameful of an angle these guys were going to have on her various... parts. But she was up here now, and backing down would spell an end to her sister’s innocence.

“Do you... guys have a preference on what I... start with,” she asked them as her hands moved back and forth between her bra and panties. She couldn’t bear to decide for herself. Whatever piece she thought about removing first would send an unintended message to her friends about her confidence in that part or would indicate that she wanted them to see this first or last. Let the guys decide.

But this proved to be folly. Half of them yelled for her to show her boobs first, while the other half demanded the sight of her naked pussy. Hearing both sides argue about what part of her body they wanted to see put Eunchae into a state of extreme agitation, and she found herself pulling her panties down without even realizing what she was doing. The arguing stopped instantly as her panties landed on the top of the table, and her bald pussy was put on display for all four men. In that instant, they became the first, second, third, and fourth men ever to see this sight.

“Holy shit Eunchae, you shave?” Eunwoo asked. Eunchae’s eyes looked at her private area with horror as she hadn’t considered this when she stripped.

“Yes... But only because I think it’s more hygienic. It’s not for any weird sexual thing, I promise.” She cried out as she covered her groin with her hands. “Stop looking at it!”

The guys complained that a stripper wouldn’t hide her nudity after stripping. “Stop calling me a stripper! That’s not what’s going on, and you know it!” Eunchae was getting flustered but knew her friends were trying to get a rise out of her.

“Keep going! Let’s see everything!” Chanwoo cheered.

“Do it, do it, do it,” Eunwoo started chanting as the others joined him. Half an hour ago, Eunchae was explaining to these guys how to place cards in the board game. Now, they were uniformly calling for her to remove the last piece of clothing she had on.

As she stood there with her hands at her crotch, the boys started to move to the other side of the table to get a view of her ass.

“Where are you going. Stop!” Eunchae cried. But soon, they were on all sides of her, and she was unable to prevent them from enjoying yet another aspect of her body.

After a few minutes of posing like she needed to pee, the teenager realized she couldn’t delay things any further.

“Fine! Just... I don’t know. Just don’t be weird,” she said, standing upright and removing her hands, exposing herself once more. All four men quickly rushed to view her womanhood again. She closed her eyes, and her hands went to her back. Despite having done this tens of thousands of times, her unsteady hands struggled to unhook her bra.

“Do you need help, Eunchae?” Chanwoo asked.

“No!” She cried. Getting stripped by her friends seemed even more shameful than stripping herself for them.

Finally, to her relief, she got it unhooked. But that relief was replaced with the horror that this meant her friends would now see her ample breasts as soon as she released her grip on the garment. She peeked out of one eye and saw all four long-time friends practically drooling over her chest in anticipation. As she debated her options, her shaky hands lost their grip, and before she knew it, her bra fell off. The weight of her boobs weighed on her chest, and at that moment, her friends came to know every intimate detail about her naked body.

After the accidental strip, Eunchae was frozen in place. The four guys were equally in shock as they studied the newly revealed source of their apparent long-time lust. The silence made Eunchae ask herself increasingly worried questions. Were they so quiet because her body is weird? Did they not like what they saw? Why did she now care if her friends liked her body or not? But the following sudden response of the men threw these negative thoughts out of her head.

“Holy shit, your tits are incredible!”

“Yeah, but how about that pussy? Damn!”

“I’ve got to see that ass again.”

“So... fucking... hot.”

All four of them simultaneously voiced their admiration for her body.

Eunchae became conflicted. Showing herself off like this was embarrassing, and she wished to get dressed again. But these compliments gave her feelings of warmth and pride—something she hadn’t felt before.

“I call first lap dance!” Chanwoo called out, breaking up the moment of self-discovery Eunchae was having.

“What? Lap dance? I’m not...,” she said, turning rapidly towards him. With her tits now free of the confines of clothing, they jiggled considerably. A fact that the guys noticed.

“You said you were going to be our stripper. Strippers give lap dances...” Chanwoo said as if the lap dance had already been agreed upon previously.

“I have been adamant that I am not your stripper. And it was your idea that I give lap dances. I never said I would!” Eunchae cried out. Her friends kept pushing the boundaries of this friendship at a quickening pace.

“That’s okay then. Thanks for letting us see your naked body, though. I can’t believe we are going to see you and your sister both naked on the same night,” Doyun said as he followed the others toward the door.

Eunchae was astounded at this. She had stripped fully naked for these guys, something she had never done before. And even with all that, they still wanted to seek out the sexual attention of her sister.

“Wait! I didn’t say I wasn’t willing to give lap dances,” she said, stopping her friends once again.

“Each of us can get one from you?” Eunwoo asked, seeking clarity.

The idea of rubbing her body against one of them was odd enough, but all four?

“Yeah...,” she said meekly.

Chanwoo moved a chair into the middle of the room, and one of the guys started playing music that was appropriate for a lap dance. Eunchae stood several feet away from her friend, still fully naked. A fact that she still couldn’t believe was true. She had never done anything like this, so she thought back to the various movies she had seen where the actresses gave someone a lap dance. Slowly, she started swaying her hips back and forth, which prompted loud cheers from the guys. Chanwoo’s eyes were locked on her tits which jiggled considerably even with Eunchae’s small movements.

“Come closer, Eunchae. Stand over my lap while you do that,” he said, waving her over. She tip-toed over slowly, hoping to keep as much distance as possible from her horny friend while she was in this nude state. Still, he beckoned her to continue until her tits were mere inches away from his face.

“Isn’t this a bit too close?” Eunchae asked.

“It’s a lap dance. You’re supposed to be as close as possible. Your sister would understand that,” Chanwoo said. Why would her sister know that, Eunchae wondered as her hip movements started up again. Her male friend was now close enough to see every detail of her tits. Weirder still was that he needed to lean his face in only a few inches to make contact with her chest. That thought got the inexperienced girl’s heart thumping.

Feeling emboldened by the erotic sight, Chanwoo reached out and put his hands on Eunchae’s bare hips.

“Chanwoo... what are you doing...,” Eunchae nervously asked him.

“It’s just your hips,” he replied.

The young man’s eyes diverted from her ample chest to her womanhood. In this embarrassing position, her pussy was situated just above his crotch. True, his parts were contained within his pants, but it was still in proximity to her very exposed parts. Her eyes were also drawn to an area in his pants that bulged out. She wasn’t so naive that she didn’t know that was. The sight of her nude body had given her friend, likely all of her friends, an erection. A response before today, she wasn’t sure anyone had ever prompted her body. As she stared, she became curious to see more, but shook that thought out of her head. All this time, Chanwoo continued to watch Eunchae’s pussy.

“Turn around. Let’s see that naked ass shake,” he said. Eunchae did as he asked, but she took note of the change in dynamic. Her friends weren’t asking her. They were now telling her what to do. She truly was their own personal stripper now. But again, she remembered why she was doing this. If not, her sister would be in this exact position now. Her nude body being drooled over by her friends, or worse.

After watching her cheeks shake back and forth for a few minutes, her friend had another command. “Bend over. All the way.”

Eunchae looked back at him with a scared look. “Bend over? But you’ll see... Do you really need to see me in such a state?” She asked. Chanwoo shrugged, but if she protested, he would probably bring up her sister again and her willingness to do almost anything. A fact she wasn’t sure was true, but rather not tested. Eunchae bent over, holding onto her friend’s knees for support. The flow of cold air on the newly exposed area told her what this position was doing. Chanwoo was getting a close-up view of her pussy from behind. Rustling sounds behind her also told her that the other three friends had joined him in enjoying this view. Every second in this state was humiliating, and it would take another four minutes before she was told she could stand up.

“My turn,” Minho announced, taking the seat that Chanwoo had just been in. Eunchae was being passed around from friend to friend like they all wanted a turn lusting over her. It made her feel used but wanted. Her mind was a storm of conflicting feelings. For now, she obeyed the lusty commands of her friends. All the while telling herself every sexual gaze or embarrassing pose, she did was one less than her sister would do later.

Minho had her sit on his lap, her back resting against his front.

“Don’t just sit there, move that butt into me. It’s a lap dance, after all,” he explained.

As her bare ass slid back and forth on his crotch, the feeling of his erect dick became unquestionably noticeable. While she had seen Chanwoo’s contained in his pants, with Minho, she was feeling with him. With her own ass, no less. Why was it that he felt no shame in getting felt up like this while she felt like she was being used? Where did this power dynamic arise from? But she did admit feeling his dick rest between her butt checks was an erotic and naughty sensation. But feelings that were overwhelmed by the shame she felt for acting in such a way.

“Turn around and face me. I want to see your tits as I feel you grind into my crotch,” he said with confidence. She turned around and sat on him while facing him.

“Would it kill you to say please? I’m still your friend, guys,” Eunchae complained as she started up lap grinding on him again.

“Please shake your tits in my face while your ass rubs against my dick,” Minho said.

Eunchae gave him an angry look, and he started laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! That was a joke. You’re right. I’m getting carried away. We’re just having fun.” Despite the apology, though, he didn’t pull back on his expectation that she continues to stimulate him with her nude ass.

As Minho sat there with her tits swaying close to his face, he placed his hands on her lower back. Slowly, they moved south until they rested just above the start of her cheeks. “Where are your hands going there, Minho?” the naked teenager asked her aroused friend.

“I was thinking about getting some hand full of your ass. Or should I hold off and wait until I get my hands on your sister’s?” He asked.

Eunchae was well aware that they were using her over-protective attitude toward her sister to get her to agree to more sexual things. But they seemed genuine in their desire to get with her sister, so she had to play along. Even if it meant her ass would now be open to the groping of a guy she had trusted for so long. “If you have to...,” she muttered.

Within the instant she said that his hands went straight to her ass and squeezed, prompting her to yelp out of surprise. He felt them in every way possible and manipulated them in all directions. Her other three friends sat behind her and witnessed this occur. The weirdest was when he would push her cheeks apart.

“Stop doing that, Minho!” Eunchae complained, feeling him push them apart yet again.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because you’re showing...,” she started to say while trying to motion back subtly to her friends.

“If you’re worried his massaging of your ass is revealing your asshole to us, then so that you know, it is. We’ve seen it extensively now,” Eunwoo commented from behind her. Fantastic, Eunchae thought to herself. God forbid that her friends don’t see every square inch of her body.

Five minutes later and Minho had memorized how every nook and cranny of Eunchae’s ass felt. He then relented to give Eunwoo a turn at pushing Eunchae’s sexual boundaries. Eunwoo had her take the same position on him and wasted no time getting his own hands on her ample ass. Eunchae was now assuming all four of them were going to end up groping her naked ass. In fact, the whole rest of the night might consist of her cheeks getting felt up while stimulating her friends with a lap dance consisting mainly of crotch grinding. But this would be fine. She could handle this and waste away the night with this activity. Her sister would fall asleep in a few hours, free from the hands of her eager friends. What this meant for the future of Eunchae’s relationship with them was worrying. She doubted they would call this a one-time thing. More worrying was that Eunchae didn’t hate that idea.

While Eunwoo was enjoying the feeling of his friend’s behind, his eyes grew hungry for another part of her. “Lean in, Eunchae. I need to get my mouth all over those tits,” he said as his tongue dropped out of his mouth in anticipation.

“My... chest?” Eunchae said as she watched his tongue position itself inches from her nipples. Wasn’t seeing them enough? Wasn’t feeling her butt enough? Was anything enough for these guys? Why were her friends so horny for her and her sister?

“If you think you really need to in order to keep satisfied... okay,” the lap-dancing teen said while looking away.

The feeling of a warm, moist tongue rubbing all over her sensitive nipples made the young woman moan out involuntarily. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her other friends grow excited by her moan. Eunchae herself was surprised by this. Even more surprising was how continued stimulation of her breasts by his tongue garnered a continuous reaction from her.

Small jolts of pleasure shot out of her chest with each manipulation of her nipples with his mouth. When he took the entirety of one of them in his mouth, she again loudly moaned, and this confirmed to her male friend that she was enjoying the experience, much to her shame. His mouth was relentless, and she found herself grinding into his crotch just a bit harder and faster. Her tits grew warm while the tenderness in them reached levels that were causing the inexperienced teen to writhe on top of her friend.

Eunwoo continued to be bold and brought his hands to grope her chest next. Eunchae voiced no opposition to this and welcomed it. The feeling of his fingers pinching her nipples acted to relieve the building pleasure in her chest that was driving her crazy. The manipulation of her tits by his hands spread this pleasure throughout her body. She was grinding hard into his lap and breathing heavily as her mouth stayed agape. The view of the shy, embarrassed girl was replaced with one experiencing pleasure and actively leaning into those feelings.

It was only when Eunwoo commented, “Damn, you’re horny,” that Eunchae was knocked back to her usual self. She became very aware of her moans and how welcoming she had been of her friend’s touch on her naked body. She looked at him with wide, shocked eyes.

Not knowing what else to do, she suggested, “Maybe we give Doyun a turn.”

Eunchae stood up off Eunwoo, her whole body shivering a bit from the impact of having her breasts sexually stimulated. The last of her friends not to get their lap dance yet was Doyun, who sat on the chair with a smile indicating he had a plan in store for the now-flustered teen. “Sit on my lap, facing away from me. If you enjoyed what Eunwoo did to you, you’re going to love what I have in store.”

Eunchae didn’t know how to react to this. Why did Doyun need to do anything to her? Wasn’t this about their pleasure? But she was enamoured with curiosity and wondered if he could give her the same rush of joy that Eunwoo had. She took a seat on him just as he had asked.

Just like with her previous two friends, the erection contained in his pants was readily apparent as she felt it on her ass. She suspected that Chanwoo, the final friend, would soon give her the opportunity to feel his penis as well. “Just relax and lean back against me,” Doyun said in a calming voice.

His hands started at her sides. While far from an intimate location, Eunchae was so unused to male contact that even having his hands on the bare skin of her side felt intense. As she leaned back, he nestled his face on her neck and started lightly kissing it as his hands moved up and down her sides from her hips to the sides of her bosoms. Her legs squirmed as the feeling of his lips on her neck was divine. It also made her appreciate that men had seen her naked and felt so many areas of her body, but she had still never kissed a man. That realization made her feel whorish, but as Doyun’s hands migrated to become the second man in the last half hour to grope her naked tits, she didn’t care anymore.

“Aahhhh,” Eunchae moaned out as her tits, neck, and most intimate areas tingled with pleasure she never knew her body could feel. Her reasons for doing this were long forgotten. All she knew was she didn’t want this to stop. And Doyun didn’t stop as the next minutes consisted of nothing but her tits getting worked over by the strong hands of her friend while she squired on the shaft of his cock. A cock that consumed her thoughts. It was ever so tempting to suggest possible next steps, not caring that she had an audience. But only Doyun knew where things were going to end up between them.

As Eunchae’s mind was adrift in lust, she failed to notice the downward movement of her close friend’s hands. Soon, his fingers made contact with the area that even her own hands rarely touched. The nude girl shot up as she felt two fingers run along the length of her labia. “Oh fuck!” She yelled out. Coming back to reality fast, she looked down to confirm where her friend’s hands had shifted. She grabbed them and held them in place to prevent further stimulation of that area.

“Whoa there. I think that’s taking things too far. I’m letting you grope my chest extensively. Why do you need to touch me there?”

“You have a beautiful body, Eunchae. Your face, chest, butt, and your pussy as well. Why wouldn’t we want to touch you there, too?” He asked.

“Thanks... but touching me there provokes... feelings. I’m not ready for intensity like that,” the still-panting woman admitted.

“Are you sure you aren’t ready? You were plenty wet from what I could feel.”

“No! I... it was... no!” Eunchae said, not liking that this detail was spoken out loud. “I’m not ready!”

Doyun moved his hands away from the groin of his friend. “I understand. That was asking too much of you. You should probably get off me then,” he said.

Eunchae was cautious of this. “Why? I didn’t say you had to stop feeling my other areas.”

“And those areas are fun. But I’m ready for more, and if you don’t want to progress, then we are going to...,” but Eunchae finished his thought.

“My sister. I got it... Actually, I am ready for you to touch my... private area,” Eunchae said.

“Are you sure?” Doyun questioned. Eunchae didn’t answer with words but grabbed his hands and brought them back to her pussy, all while opening up her legs.

Doyun resumed rubbing two fingers along her labia, but just ever so lightly. Still, Eunchae let out a moan that she worried would echo all the way to her sister’s room. Her friend repeated this motion again, then again, and settled into a steady pace of finger stimulation. As Doyun pointed out, Eunchae provided a lot of lubrication. Ever since she started getting touched by Chanwoo, this had been occurring, much to her embarrassment. But there was no hiding that from Doyun.

The build-up of pleasure that had been driving the teenager mad from just the chest groping. But with her stimulation now vaginal in nature, this build-up felt more intense. Something was happening in her, and with what her friend’s fingers were doing, it was happening fast. During a downward motion along her vaginal lips, one of Doyun’s fingers did a sudden turn and penetrated her slightly. This sent a rush through her legs that caused them to spasm. He repeated this maneuver and got the same reaction from the young woman. His finger went deeper and longer each time and was joined by a neighboring finger. Eunchae’s reaction only grew, and soon her muscles all over her body tensed up from this new feeling of having someone inside her pussy.

Eunchae’s hands had a death grip on the chair that supported them. She continued to writhe on her friend, grinding her ass uncontrollably into his dick still contained in his pants. The relentless finger assault on her pussy sent pulse after pulse of pleasure through her body. These pulses grew more intense with less time between them. Soon, the pleasure was constant, and she lost awareness of the world around her. The ecstasy grew to new levels, and Eunchae wondered if relief would ever be found. Her mind was filled with perverse thoughts, and she thought about all of the unspeakable things she could do with the cock that she felt between her ass cheeks.

Finally, the dam burst open, and her body, from her spine to her toes, convulsed in pleasure. Her concern about her sister possibly hearing her was long forgotten, and she wailed out in beautiful agony. As the orgasm relented its hold on her, she collapsed onto her friend, who grabbed her to prevent her body from sliding off. Eunchae had experienced something she didn’t know was possible.

She also didn’t know how long she had been on top of him as her friends watched her bare chest heave up and down. As her breath got under control, she turned her head and was face to face with the guy who had given her this sexual glee. She put her lips together and contacted his, an event that proved to be her first kiss. She reflected on how embarrassing this was later, having been given an orgasm by a guy before kissing them. A situation that would soon be repeated.

After sharing a few more kisses, they looked into each other’s eyes with bliss until Doyun asked, “Blowjob?”

Hearing such a brazen request caused Eunchae to shoot to her feet and off the lap of her friend. However, her legs were in no state to hold her weight, and she fell on her ass, putting her in a spread-legged pose that her friends enjoyed seeing. The nude girl wasn’t concerned with her body being exposed at the moment, though.

“A blowjob? What? From me?” She asked in her post-orgasm-confused state. She worried that while getting fingered earlier, when she imagined herself doing just such an act, she may have unknowingly vocalized a desire to take on such a task. But that wasn’t the case. This was simply a guy wanting to experience a blowjob from his increasingly sexually active female friend.

“Or your sister. Man, can you guys imagine her luscious lips wrapped around your...”

“Stop. Stop. You guys are trying to convince me to blow you by saying you’re going to seek oral from my sister otherwise. Seriously. Can you just agree not to seek out sexual acts from my sister? Is that too big of an ask,” Eunchae pleaded while on the floor with an exposed, shimmering pussy.

The four guys looked at each other. “Eunchae, we understand that you aren’t that interested in sex, events that occurred just five minutes ago notwithstanding. But we are. If your sister is willing to engage in blowjobs with all four of us. That’s her business. I’m sorry you feel that we are trying to manipulate you into doing anything. We aren’t. But we also aren’t going to turn down anything you are offering,” Minho said in a well-meaning tone.

As Eunchae thought about what her friend had just said, she began to accept the reality. She had done some embarrassing things, but there was no need to go further. Her sister was a woman, and these guys were men. Everyone was of legal age, and no cheating would occur. She wouldn’t get in the way of whatever it was they wanted to do with each other.

But then her mind visualized her sister being surrounded by the four cocks of her friends as she went back and forth sucking on them all. Her friends groped her naked body just as they had Eunchae’s, giving her sister the same feelings of uncontrollable lust. Eventually, they unload the contents of their cocks in her mouth and on her. From there, they progress to even more sensual activities. No! Eunchae couldn’t accept such an event occurring. And it was in her power to stop it.

“Get your dick out. I’ll suck it,” she said with her voice cracking. Doyun stood up, looking like he, well, looking like he just had his long-term female friend, whom he had long been attracted to, offer to blow him. Eunchae, meanwhile, was coming to terms with the many new sensations she was about to experience, all centered around the penis of her trusted friend.

With Eunchae on the floor, Doyun stood on the ground next to her. “How about you get my dick out. That will be fun,” he suggested. Not knowing how to argue otherwise, the nude teenage girl brought her shaky hands to the belt of Doyun. She fumbled with it for a while but got it loose, bringing her ever closer to the object of her soon-to-be oral fixation.

As she reached for the zipper of his pants, her hand slid by the bulge in his pants where his cock lay, sending a shiver up her arm. But she knew that in no time, she would be doing more than just glancing at his shaft. The zipper came down, and she unbuttoned his jeans, leaving a thin layer of cloth between her and his manhood. She could have easily pulled down his boxers, but took the opportunity to delay the appearance of his manly feature a few more seconds.

Released from the confines of his pants, his erection became much more noticeable, giving Eunchae a clearer idea of its size and shape. Seeing her pause and stare, Doyun checked in with her soon-to-be friend/lover. “Everything okay, Eunchae?”

His words almost startled the young woman, and she stammered in response. “What? Oh yeah. Everything is good. Just looking at... I mean, not looking at. But your penis is. Your dick looks good. I mean, no. No, not no... I’m going to shut up and take off your boxers.”

As she dwelled on the embarrassing word salad she just said in reference to her friend’s cock, she pulled down the boxers and, looking up, was taken aback at the sight of her first in-person penis. A very erect one at that, thanks to her efforts earlier. “Fuck...,” she said as her mouth when agape at its sight. It was huge, or at least she thought it was. The idea of fitting into... certain orifices of hers was intimidating, and she was thankful that wasn’t what she was preparing for.

But what she was committed to required her to do more than gawk at it, although she was enjoying her viewing of it. This raised questions, though, that Eunchae realized she needed to answer. How the fuck do you give a blowjob. She knew the obvious parts. You put the penis in your mouth. But was that all there was to it? Was she about to embarrass herself by giving the world’s worst blowjob, all while her friends watched? While giving it to a friend...

She reached up and gently took hold of the base of the shaft with her hand. She was doing it. She was actually holding a real dick in her hand. It was... fleshy. An obvious observation, but it was the best way she felt to describe it. It was firm but pleasantly smooth. She ran her hand up and down it a bit just to get a feel for it, and Doyun reacted positively to this. “God, that feels good. Your hands are so soft on my dick Eunchae,” he said, smiling. The naive girl was surprised at this. Was she actually giving her friend some sexual pleasure? Even with that small amount of effort?

This emboldened the nude teenager currently on her knees. Doyun didn’t ask for a handjob. He asked for a blowjob. So, there was no point in delaying things. Eunchae was going to take a dick into her mouth. She metaphorically dove in and took as much of his length into her as she could without risking ganging. Her lips then wrapped around his shaft, and she slowly pulled away from him, feeling his smooth skin glide along her.

“Fuck...,” Doyun groaned, voicing his approval of her first foray into getting face fucked. Eunchae considered it official that she had now lost her mouth virginity, if that could be considered a thing.

She started repeating this movement, driving the portion of his dick that fit in and out of her mouth, all while using her lips to massage all sides of the cock. After getting used to this, she decided to introduce her tongue to her friend’s dick. As she thrusted his dick once again into her mouth, her tongue swiped a quick lick in. Her taste buds were soon flooded with the taste of the pre-cum leaking out of him. It was an enjoyable salty sensation. But tasting this fluid reminded her of another component, which was Doyun’s sperm. While it was a small amount, for now, the idea of having her close friend’s sperm inside her was intimidating. In the right place, those little swimmers could cause her a lot of trouble. But her mouth was safe, and all the sperm Doyun could supply in this orifice wouldn’t get her pregnant. Despite her extreme nervousness in engaging in such an act, Eunchae admitted to herself that she was enjoying the experience, which was good as she had three friends likely eager for their turns.

As she got more creative with her tongue’s role in the blowjob, Doyun took hold of her head with his hands and started directing her to move faster and deeper. Soon her lips were running rapidly over the cock, and Doyun was breathing hard. Just as the young Eunchae wondered how much longer this might go on, her mouth became flooded with a warm liquid that overwhelmed her taste buds with the previous subtle flavor of his pre-cum. Eunchae had successfully made her friend orgasm, with her mouth no less. Thus returning the orgasm he had given her just earlier.

She pulled away from him, releasing his dick from her mouth. She briefly looked around as her mouth contained billions of his sperm until she finally swallowed, not knowing what else she could do. “Fan-fucking-tastic Eunchae,” Doyun said, needing to take a seat in the chair previously used for lap dances.

“Thanks. I guess,” the teenager said after having her blowjob skills complimented. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be good at this or not, but for now, she was glad the job was done. For one of these guys, at least.

She looked over at her other three friends in a different light than she had in the past. At this moment, they represented dicks that she needed to make cum.

“So... am I blowing one of you guys next?” Eunchae asked in maybe the most embarrassing question of her life.

“I’ll take a boobjob,” Eunwoo announced, standing up. A boobjob? Was there a menu of options that Eunchae was offering that she wasn’t aware of? Was her job tonight to fulfill all of their sexual requests? Still, considering she just took a dick in the mouth, it seemed to her that pleasuring one with your chest was a lesser ask.

“How do we do this?” she asked. Eunwoo was already pulling down his boxers when she asked, revealing the second cock of the day for the inexperienced 18-year-old girl with a stomach full of her friend’s cum. He laid on the floor as his cock awaited two large tits to surround it. This second dick looked no less large than the last one. And no less alluring either, Eunchae thought in the back of her mind. She was a bit excited to feel it.

She got on her knees and leaned over the fleshy staff. “Do I just rub my chest over it like this?” She asked as she positioned the dick between her ample tits. The idea that her body was ideal for such an activity was too much for her to accept.

Eunchae pushed her boobs inward together, compressing them around the dick, and started moving herself up and down the shaft of her friend. This was another first she had given up tonight, although she was certain ‘boob virginity’ was not a thing. She was almost able to surround the perimeter of his manhood completely. The feeling of having this male feature between her chest was odd—a combination of naughty and shameful. Two hours ago, if her friends had asked her to wear something that showed a bit of cleavage, she would have denied them and run off in total embarrassment at even being asked such a thing. Now she was fully naked and currently trying to induce her friend to cum by stimulating him with her tits. Eunchae was worried about what might happen in the next two hours.

Pre-cum from Eunwoo soon coated her bosom. Again, she thought about her friend’s sperm and how another part of her body was being introduced to it. Another safe area, but not headed in the direction she liked.

“Lie on your back,” he said as Eunwoo was looking to switch things around. Being requested to lie on your back fully naked by your friend, currently sporting an exposed erection, worried Eunchae, but she complied. Surely, he wasn’t taking things to that level. Once she was horizontal on her back, the eager male straddled her over her stomach and plopped down his cock between her chest. He then used his own hands to squeeze her tits together and resume the tit job. In control now, Eunwoo was much more vigorous with pumping his cock between her tits. In addition, having both his hands squeezing her tits while a dick used them for pleasure was having an erotic impact on the young lady.

Just as Doyun and Eunwoo gave her tit-stimulated pleasure during the lap dance, this boob job was proving no different. As she saw a dick thrust towards her face repeatedly, Eunchae began to squirm from the barrage of pleasure her chest was feeling. One orgasm was shameful enough to have in front of her friends, but a second one? Especially one derived from such an act would be too much to bear. But the possibility of such a thing happening disappeared as Eunwoo pulled himself out from between her tits. But she then appreciated that he hadn’t finished and wondered if maybe he didn’t plan to. But then the feeling of warm liquid spraying onto her chest brought her up to date with her friend’s plan. He was cumming directly onto his chest. The sight of a dick cumming was breath-taking to the inexperienced teenager. It shot out with force in multiple bursts. Each pump that hit her made her gasp as she appreciated what this liquid was and how erotic this act was. The smell of the cum hit her, and she found it invigorating and wanting more of it. If not on her chest, then other areas...

The last of his seed dripped out onto her, and Eunchae knew she had finished pleasing yet another friend. But two more remained. “I should go clean up,” she said, sitting up.

“No! Keep it on your chest,” Chanwoo said, with Minho nearby, shaking his head in agreement.

“What? But...,” Eunchae started to argue but quickly relented. If this is what they wanted, fine. She didn’t need to hear about how her sister would happily wear their cum with pride.

Having regained her strength from her orgasm earlier, Eunchae stood up. While wearing the cum of Eunwoo on her tits, she asked Chanwoo and Minho, “So what do you guys want to do?” Eunchae regretted her language as she was starting to sound like she was making herself free to be used for their sexual pleasure. Although, isn’t that what she was doing?

“Get on your knees,” Minho said. Figuring that meant he was volunteering to be next and wanted to feel her lips on his cock, she complied.

However, both men approached her while starting to unzip their pants. “Wait. Who am I blowing?” Eunchae asked as she watched both guys’ pants fall to the floor.

“Both,” Chanwoo said as he pulled his cock out, followed by Minho revealing his.

Eunchae understood. Earlier, she had visualized almost this exact scenario, albeit with her sister doing this instead of her. With the amount of cocks she had handled doubling, the nude teenager took hold of each shaft in either hand and started stroking them. They felt remarkably similar to Doyun’s. From here on, anytime she hung out with her friends, she would know the size, texture, and in most cases, taste of their cocks. Even in the most innocent of interactions, that knowledge would pop into her head in addition to images of the many acts she was partaking in tonight with them.

While she had two hands that were up to the task of jacking off her friends, she had but a single mouth. Eunchae elected to have Chanwoo become the second dick to penetrate her mouth. As her lips rolled over the bare skin of his manhood and her tongue teased his tip, she came to appreciate his cock had a different taste than her previous oral partner. His, likely from the healthy amount of pre-cum, had a bit more of a metallic taste. That made her curious about what Minho tasted like, and she switched her mouth over to his and found it to have more of the salty taste that Doyun shared. She wondered then about the only cock in the room she hadn’t sucked on, Eunwoo’s. But she realized this was embarrassing to consider. She would not ask to give her friend a blowjob just to compare his taste to the others.

Over the next five minutes, Eunchae worked the two cocks with her hand while giving them oral pleasure as equally as she could. “God, I’m getting close,” Chanwoo moaned.

“Me too. Your mouth is heaven, Eunchae,” Minho said.

“Okay, so where do you want to...,” the teen asked before her question was thoroughly answered. Cum out of both dicks sprayed onto her face.

“Don’t stop your hands,” Minho commanded as cum continued to splatter over the surprised face of Eunchae. As the last of it hit her, the boys again complimented her ability to get them to cum, saying she had a talent. A talent that the cum covered friend wasn’t sure she welcomed.

But Eunchae breathed easily, knowing that her friends were sexually satisfied and her sister was free of the horny hands and cum of her friends. “Now that everyone has been... serviced? Can we get back to the game now?” She asked as she looked towards the table. She expected they would want her to play naked and keep her cum coating on. That was fine, and the smell of cum continued to intoxicate her. But the guys didn’t give her the immediate confirmation of that plan.

“Eunchae. I think you’re underestimating the sexual appetite of men,” Doyun said. She turned to face him and was met with her still-naked friend, sporting another erection.

“You’re kidding me...,” she said as she remembered taking his cum into her mouth just half an hour ago.

“What can I say. I’m enjoying the view,” Doyun said, looking over his friend’s seeded body.

“Okay, fine. I guess I’m blowing you guys more,” Eunchae said as she took one last longing look at her board game that remained unplayed. Although she didn’t resent the idea of four men focusing their sexual lust on her again.

“Your blowjob was, well, orgasmic, Eunchae. But we’re looking for the real deal now. Something I don’t think you are willing to do. So you sit tight here, and we’re going to go hang out with your sister for a bit,” Minho said.

“You mean you’re going to go fuck her,” Eunchae said, thinking that now that she was covered in cum, the time to stop glossing over what people really meant has passed.

“Yes, we want to have sex with your sister.”

The four men got up, not bothering to put their clothes on. Eunchae wondered if they were really going to solicit sex from her sister while naked like this? But as she thought about it, the sight of four naked and erect boys outside of her bedroom might make her sister all the easier to convince her sister to engage in sex. Eunchae had an obvious path to avoid this. Offer her own body in place of her sister’s. But that would mean giving up her big V-card. Her real virginity. She couldn’t get that back. But did she really care about holding on to it? She had just engaged in a five-way blowjob orgy. Was claiming technical innocence worth knowing her friends would soon fill her sister’s willing womb with their cum?

Once again, she stopped them right as they started leaving the room.

“Wait...,” the nervous virgin said.

Her four naked guy friends turned around. “Yes?” Chanwoo asked.

Eunchae paused and couldn’t get the words out. “You know what I’m going to say. Don’t make me actually say it,” she said in a shaky voice.

“I need to hear you say it,” Chanwoo said to the nods of the others.

“Y—you... you can fuck me,” she muttered.

“Aren’t you a virgin?” Eunwoo asked, speculating on the sexual experience of his friend.

“Yeah... but we got to start sometime, right?” The four nudes looked at each other.

“I don’t know if you really want to do this, Eunchae. Maybe you should just let us get with your sister and save yourself for a future boyfriend,” Doyun mentioned.

“I know we’ve done a lot of stuff tonight, but I agree. I don’t think this is something you really want,” Chanwoo added. Eunchae was getting frustrated hearing this. She wasn’t drunk, being blackmailed, or anything else. She is giving her consent, and these big dick jerks are still doubting her intentions. She needed to be extra clear.

“I’m telling you that I want to feel your cock inside my pussy! Fuck me now and fuck me hard, you jerk!” She yelled out.

Eunchae felt her pride sink to a new low, but it had the intended effect. “Okay, Eunchae, chill. We will have sex with you. But which of us do you want to have sex with first?” Eunwoo asked, holding his hands up to calm down the eager teenage girl.

“Why do I have to choose?” Eunchae protested.

“Because usually girls choose who they lose their virginity to,” Chanwoo said. The nude girl couldn’t argue with that, but by what logic could she even pick? Whoever she chooses would probably send an unintended message that she felt that one was more attractive or appealing to her. Up until an hour ago, when she started feeling their dicks, Eunchae never saw these guys in that light.

Her eyes were drawn to their dicks which were all now erect. She swore they looked even bigger and had trouble believing they would fit inside her. Not that she had ever explored fitting things in that part of her. But she realized she had been checking out their cock for a while and turned around in embarrassment.

Picking them based on their size would be the last thing she would want to do. It’s not like they all wouldn’t end up fucking her anyway. Oh god, all four of her friends are going to fuck her tonight, Eunchae realized. Why wouldn’t they? They had all wanted a lap dance from her and afterward wanted her to make them cum. She had agreed to a full-on orgy with her best friends. So many words popped into her head that she would use to describe women who partake in such activities. Descriptors that she would soon apply to herself.

“I’ll just pick random. We have dice, after all,” she said, walking to the table. At least a small part of the game would be used, she thought. It would be weird as from here on, every time she rolled the dice playing, she would remember how she used it to decide who broke her hymen and made her a ‘real woman.’ But as she grabbed the dice, she saw the bag of bird eggs, which served as an important reminder to her.

“You guys have condoms?”

All four shook their heads.

“Well, we can’t have sex without condoms, so I guess it’s not happening,” Eunchae said. That would give her a short reprieve from giving up the goods to these guys, but she knew next time they would come over, they would probably bring a pack or something obscene.

“Your sister would probably let us fuck her without condoms,” Chanwoo remarked.

Why were these guys making so many assumptions about the sexual nature of her sister? Eunchae fretted. But would her sister go so far as to forgo protection to get with guys younger than her? What worried her most was that she knew for a fact that, like her, her sister wasn’t on protection. A year ago, Eunchae’s sister came to her asking if she would like to start birth control. Eunchae declined, saying she wasn’t planning on being sexually active. Her sister remarked she wasn’t on birth control for the same reason.

“Then promise you’ll pull out and cum on my chest. You guys seemed to enjoy doing that,” Eunchae offered as a compromise. This made her unbelievably nervous as she knew pre-cum contained sperm. In addition, this would require a lot of trust in some guys proving to be extraordinarily horny.

“Eunchae, your sister will probably let us…” Chanwoo started to say before the virgin girl objected.

“If you’re suggesting my sister will let a group of teenage boys cum inside her and risk a pregnancy just for sexual satisfaction, you’re wrong!”

But Eunchae wasn’t sure about this. It’s not like she has discussed anything like this with her sister. Given that she existed at all, though, proved that her sister was capable of agreeing to unprotected sex with men she wasn’t married to. Given her built-up lust, would she repeat this mistake? With her sister’s teenage friends, even?

“So you’re saying the only way you guys won’t cum inside my sister is if I let you guys cum inside me,” Eunchae asked.

“That’s not fair! You make it sound like we are making you do this. Eunchae, if you don’t want to fuck us, then don’t!” Doyun complained.

“Then don’t have unprotected sex with my sister!”

“Be reasonable. We’re guys. All we think about is sex. If a hot woman is willing to let us have sex with her, protection or no, we’re going to take her up on it. I’m sorry that it happens to be your sister,” Eunwoo said, laying out their position.

“But I’m not on birth control. Do you guys really want to risk getting me pregnant?” Eunchae asked as her mind started to panic that she was even considering this.

“It’s not that I want to impregnate you. I want to cum inside a beautiful woman tonight. It seems we have two candidates,” Eunwoo said.

What the hell was happening, thought Eunchae. How did tonight go from a board game about birds to her friends willing to impregnate her or her sister? And what had happened to her in these few hours that she was taking this willingness as a compliment and becoming very tempted by it.

A child would change almost everything Eunchae had planned in her life. College, a husband, and even where she would live would all be drastically changed by getting pregnant at age 18. But the alternative was her sister getting pregnant. By the seed of her friends. God, would one of these guys become her brother-in-law? Oh god, would she have ended up blowing her brother-in-law?

“I’m not saying I want to... yet. But if we did this... and something were to... take hold inside me. Would you guys take responsibility?”

All four of them voiced enthusiastic agreement with that.

“Are you kidding? I’d happily!” Minho said. Eunchae wondered just what that meant to her friends. Were they indicating they would marry her? Or just raise their child? Were they saying that to get in her pants? Even though she wasn’t wearing any right now? Today was proving mind-bogglingly life-changing to the sexually inexperienced teen girl.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a baby, but I think I’m ready to go all the way with you guys,” Eunchae finally admitted.

This was crazy. She was basically asking these guys to impregnate her to prevent herself from getting a brother-in-law. As per her plan, she headed to the game table and rolled the dice. The four guys continued to look shocked that their friend, who had shown no interest in any sexual before, was now using a board game piece to pick which of them would get the first shot at impregnating her. Assigning each guy to a bird food picture on the die, the luck of the roll favored Eunwoo. He would be the first to partake in the most intimate of actions with his friend.

A wide-eyed Eunchae went and lay on the floor, deciding this was where it would happen. Eunwoo inched closer to her, but still questioned things. “I only want to do this with you, Eunchae, if you really do,” he asked as his erection showed his body as fully onboard.

Eunchae didn’t want to go through this whole exercise with her friend doubting her resolve, so she made things clear.

“Take that cock of yours and fuck my pussy with it until I squeal from cumming. Then fill my womb with so much cum there will be no doubt that I’m pregnant.”

Eunchae's direct words took all four men by surprise. But as the night advanced, none questioned her desire to do this again.

But the soon-to-be ex-virgin’s confidence was just for show. In reality, she eyed his cock with immense anxiety. Both in terms of its size and the millions of little swimmers it would soon dispense. All it would take is for one to find its target. Her eggs. She wasn’t one to keep track of her cycles, but from a quick estimation in her head, this was not the day to be doing this.

Eunwoo joined her on the floor and climbed on top of her, putting his face next to hers. “I’m going to take this slow, okay?” He informed his soon-to-be lover. She put on a brave face and gave him a nod like she had done this a hundred times before. Given how horny these guys were, that scenario might become the truth soon.

Eunchae felt the entrance to her womb get tickled, but she knew this wasn’t any finger touching her. Soon, the appendage in question started applying pressure, and she took one last breath as a virgin. Eunwoo’s dick penetrated her, and a shot of pain sent a clear message to the young woman. She was fucking her friend. True to his word, Eunwoo didn’t immediately start pounding her mound despite her early boast that she wanted them to ‘fuck her hard.’ The pain was more than she expected, but was fading fast. The cock in her pulled out slowly and then back in. This generated new pain, but it was less intense and faded even faster. Eunchae appreciated that the worst was over and was thankful that Eunwoo was proving to be such a thoughtful and skillful sexual partner.

He continued to slide in and out of her, with the pain becoming almost non-existent. The fading of the pain was a relief, but her major concern still loomed large. Even now, she knew sperm was already leaking out of the cock currently fucking her. It was a small amount, but would soon be joined by a flood of fellow swimmers. A flood with one goal. To impregnate her. But for now, Eunwoo was picking up the pace and delving deeper into her with each stroke. They continued to be face to face, and while she tried to look away or close her eyes. However, often their eyes would meet. Was it weird that she wasn’t kissing him? Or if she tried to, would that make it weirder?

Eunchae had expected sex to be much like when she got fingered earlier by Doyun, but that was proving not to be the case. The feeling of getting stretched out over and over by the cock was... unusually pleasant. As well as the friction caused by the movement of his dick inside her. While she still would have liked to be using protection, the skin-on-skin contact was so intimate. The recently devirginized teenager felt every textured detail of him slide inside her. Despite her earlier appreciation of him taking it slow, she was now finding herself eager for him to go faster and harder. While not something she consciously decided to do, her hips started humping in unison with Eunwoo’s thrust, driving him to go deeper into her.

As she was getting comfortable with the experience, a facial expression of pleasure reminded the young woman of the reality of the situation. Eunwoo was approaching his limit, and with that event, the potential impregnation. Feeling the cock inside her, Eunchae had second thoughts about her earlier acceptance of becoming a sister-in-law. Why was she doing this? She could ask her friend to withdraw, and he would comply. Her virginity wouldn’t be restored, but she would be left without this life-changing event occurring. With that thought, Eunwoo’s dick reached a new depth within her, and Eunchae let out a moan, and her legs stirred underneath her current lover. This redirected her attention to the three friends watching the sex show she was freely giving them. Three guys were watching but really waiting for their turn. And if not Eunchae, they would be watching her sister take on the nine-inch cock in her pussy. Her sister would be the one about to get inseminated.

Seeing Eunwoo’s face contort further as his orgasm was approaching rapidly, Eunchae steeled her nerves. This was the right decision.

“Get me pregnant,” she said to Eunwoo.

She pulled his face into hers and kissed him passionately right when she felt the sensation of a warm liquid enter her. Over the next minute, he stayed inside her while enjoying the feel of her lips on his. All the while, the last of his cum, and potent sperm entered the womb of his friend. Eunchae had been inseminated.

Eunchae pulled her face back and looked at Eunwoo with eyes the size of frisbees. As he withdrew from her, leaving her on the floor naked and cum filled, she calmed herself down. Would one load of cum really get her pregnant? But then she saw the eager faces of her friends, one load on her foot. Even Eunwoo was talking about doing more.

“That was so incredible. I’m going to focus on getting ready for my next turn,” he said, taking a seat on the floor to watch the next sex show Eunchae would be starring in.

Next time, she thought? How many times was she going to get fucked today? Minho announced that it was agreed he would go next. Apparently, Chanwoo and Doyun had something planned, which made Eunchae greatly curious. But she couldn’t dwell on that too much as she was about to experience the feeling of yet another long-term friend cumming inside her. Wanting to keep things fresh, he asked that she ride him on top of his dick. As Eunchae saw him lying on the floor with his erection pointing straight upward, she wondered why it was necessary to change things up with a girl you haven’t had sex with yet. A thought that instantly left her lead as she lowered herself onto her newest lover.

Being on top this time, Minho’s cock was able to penetrate her fully right off the bat. A feeling that the newly introduced teenager didn’t appreciate until now. She let out a loud gasp, and her whole body shivered briefly.

“God, your pussy feels so good and wet,” Minho said as his hands took hold of her tits.

That was not a compliment Eunchae had expected her to hear today, if ever in her life. But as the shock of the giant cock entering her wore off, she gradually started lifting herself up and down on it. In this position, she was mostly in control. Minho was eagerly lifting his hips to encourage her to pick up the pace.

Eunchae found her rhythm and was sliding the inside of her vaginal walls against her second cock of the day. The same pleasurable experiences she encountered with Eunwoo resumed. But with her nerves about getting impregnated relaxed somewhat, she was able to focus on chasing these feelings. As she humped the equally large dick, she manipulated the angle of attack to maximize her pleasure. This worked maybe too well, and as the tip rubbed against a very sensitive area she found, Eunchae let out a loud “Fuck,” and her ass twitched as a wave of sexual glee spread out from that spot. Taking a minute to recover, she started her humping back up, telling herself to avoid doing that again as it was just too intense.

However, not twenty seconds later, her curiosity and lust got the better of her, and she manipulated her body to experience that again. Ready for it this time, the next wave that hit her didn’t interrupt her rhythm, and she let out a long moan that she felt a bit embarrassed about. Opening her eyes, she saw the teasing face of Minho smiling back.

“Shut up! I’m letting my four best friends try to impregnate me. I’m not going to be shamed for enjoying myself,” Eunchae said before closing her eyes again.

Minutes later, the tip of the dick was hitting this orgasmic spot constantly, and the newly introduced to sex teenager was in a continuous state of moaning. Her lover was no longer teasing her as he was focused on not cumming early to the sexually charged sight he witnessed on top of him. Eunchae was humping his dick with a purpose. Wave after wave was crashing throughout her body until it became a steady stream of ecstasy. She used her hands to ensure Minho kept a firm grip on her tits as it was adding to her full-body pleasure. She knew she was building up to something grand and needed to see it to its mind-blowing conclusion. Her vision was starting to go white, and any doubt, shame, or worries she had been now gone. A live news crew could walk into the room, and she wouldn’t stop driving her pussy into this dick. Finally, after one last slide of the dick inside her, the build-up exploded.

“Coming, coming,” Eunchae muttered as she felt her legs convulse and her toes curl. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she worried this state she was in would drive her mad if it continued, but she simultaneously wanted it never to stop.

But it finally did, and she fell into her second sexual partner’s chest, gasping for air after she realized she had forgotten to breathe during her orgasm. It was only a minute later that she questioned whether Minho had even finished, but the feeling of fresh liquid leaking out of her confirmed it. As the logical side of her brain booted back up, she knew this meant she had added another name to the list of potential fathers of the child she soon expected to start growing inside her.

Eunchae rolled off of Minho and onto the floor. That was the second orgasm of her life, and her friends had witnessed both on this same night. That one was more intense, too, and she worried about what would happen if these boys got her there a third time. Because she was certain, they wanted to try. And try all night.

As she lay on the floor looking upwards, two dicks came into her view, and she knew Doyun and Chanwoo were standing over her. “How are you doing?” Doyun asked her. She knew he was probably eager to feel her pussy with his dick. Eunchae didn’t vocalize this, but she was keen to let them try after the heaven on earth she experienced.

“Who is next,” she asked, hoping she wasn’t starting to sound like a sex-crazed slut, asking for her next dick.

“Both of us,” Chanwoo said with a devilish smile.

“What the fuck does that mean,” Eunchae said, sitting up. He didn’t immediately answer her, and Eunchae looked around the room at her friends to try to understand what she was missing.

Her last lover finally explained as he lay on the spot where they had just made love. “Chanwoo and Doyun want to fuck you in your ass and pussy at the same time. They want to double penetrate you,” he explained.

“My ass? While I’m getting fucked? I just lost my virginity twenty minutes ago. Now my ass needs to get penetrated? Isn’t fucking my pussy enough?” She fretted.

Chanwoo and Doyun looked at each other. “As we keep saying, Eunchae, you don’t have to do this. We will happily go to your...,” Doyun started to say, using the same excuse that they have been using all night.

“No! My sister may be willing to have sex with you guys. She may even be willing to have unprotected sex. But I know my sister. She isn’t up for getting ass fucked by her sister’s friends while another takes a shot at impregnating her at the same time!” But once again, Eunchae asked herself if she really knew that. What sister knows the sexual kinks of their sister?

“We’ll let you know what she says when we offer,” Chanwoo said, leading Doyun out of the room.

“How about you fuck my butt one on one?” Eunchae offered. Oh god, did she just offer her asshole now?

“I might take you up on that afterward, but for now, we’re sticking with our plan,” Doyun said without even turning around.

“Why does it have to be at the same time,” Eunchae cried out.

“It’s hard to explain. But once you do it, you’ll know,” Chanwoo replied.

“Then show me,” she said, going red in the cheeks at her sudden decision. Hearing that, the two boys finally turned around. “If it’s difficult to put into words, then demonstrate it with me,” she muttered.

“So you’re saying we can...,” Doyun cautiously asked.

“Don’t make me say it. Just tell me what I need to do,” Eunchae said, looking away.

Chanwoo lay on the floor on his back. They were going to create an Eunchae fucking sandwich, as Doyun described it. She climbed on him and laid on him so they were stomach to stomach. She maneuvered downward until she was low enough that Chanwoo can penetrated her with his dick. She started to hump it, almost out of instinct, but the boys told her to wait. As her third cock waited inside her, Eunchae looked back nervously as Doyun joined them. He held himself up just above, and she felt his erect cock resting against her butt crack.

“For this part, I would recommend you try and relax your asshole as much as possible while I put my dick into you,” Doyun said calmly.

That was a sentence she had not expected to hear tonight when she invited them over to play a board game. She did her best as Doyun directed his tip to her most intimate of entrances. And the only one that had been cock free until now.

It took considerably more pressure to penetrate her ass than her pussy, but it finally popped in, and finally Eunchae experienced the feeling of having two dicks inside her for the first time. Her ass barraged her with feelings of pain and pleasure, and Eunchae started squealing. The two mixed and formed a new sensation that the young girl couldn’t process at first. Doyun took hold of Eunchae’s body and started pumping her on and off of not only his cock implanted in her ass but Chanwoo’s as well.

This was giving her double the pleasure as she was being stretched in both places now. Twice the feeling of a hard cock sliding inside her and twice the sensitive spots being massaged. Her ass was relaxing and feeding her feelings of pure pleasure now. Her friends were rocking her body hard, and she learned what they meant. This feeling couldn’t be described, and she was glad she had agreed to it.

Her muscles all over her body started tensing up as sparks of pleasure burst all over her body. Even in unexplainable areas like her tits and neck. But as she tensed up from this sexual joy, it had the bonus effect of making her squeeze tighter onto the cocks ravaging her insides, sending even more orgasmic pleasure into her body. It was creating a viscous pleasure cycle that sent her skyrocketing up a mountain of ecstasy. When it would peak was unknown to the writhing, naked woman.

Eunchae’s mind thought of nothing but sex, and she started blurting out her thoughts without any sense of shame.

“Don’t stop fucking my holes. Don’t ever stop. I want to do this forever with you. Fill my ass and pussy with cum. Impregnate me and make me your forever whore. Oh god!” The young woman couldn’t tell if she was having two orgasms or one large one.

But in either case, her mouth opened wide, and she looked like she was screaming, but no sound came out as the pleasure flooded into her spine, making her back arch. Her hands flayed wildly as if looking for something that could release her from the intensity she felt from cumming.

Her lovers could do nothing but fill her with their seed, which they did happily. Chanwoo added his sperm to the ever-increasing pool seeking to impregnate Eunchae while Doyun came inside the last orifice of Eunchae’s that had been cum free.

When Eunchae’s vision returned several minutes later, the first thought that popped into her head was that this friendship was forever changed. There’s no way you can let two guy friends double-team you like that and expect things to stay the same. But would they change for the better or worse? Eunchae herself didn’t even know what she wanted the future to hold. But as she sat up, she knew one thing. Eunwoo and Minho were both hard again. Her protection of her sister’s innocence from these horny teenagers was still in question.

“Who’s next, and where do you want to put it?” She asked the men.

The orgy continued for five more hours. Doyun took a shot at impregnating her as well. Multiple times, in fact. All four of them cycled between Eunchae’s different holes, but most enjoyed her pussy. There were, of course, breaks in the actions, but in that time frame, she never went more than twenty minutes without at least one dick in her.

Towards the end of the night, the guys began pushing Eunchae to reveal how many times she had cum, as it had become difficult to tell.

“A proper lady doesn’t reveal such intimate details,” she teased as cum leaked out of her ass and pussy from the last round of double penetration they engaged in.

The night ended when yet another dam of pleasure burst open in Eunchae and proved too overwhelming for her to remain conscious. Her friends were spent at that point and left, leaving Eunchae’s sister untouched that night. When the over-sexed girl woke up in a very sore, cummed covered state, she panicked that her sister might find her like this and quickly cleaned herself and the room up as best she could. But the room had a lingering smell of cum in it. The smell made Eunchae’s legs squirm a bit, but she hoped her sister wouldn’t recognize it if she ever came back here.

Having lost a lot of fluids last night, while gaining a lot as well, Eunchae headed to the kitchen, where she was glad to find her sister had made breakfast. She grabbed a plate and sat at the table with her.

“You guys played that game of yours late last night. Your friends must have really enjoyed themselves,” Eunchae's sister said without a hint indicating she actually knew what happened.

“Yeah... it was fun,” Eunchae said, not able to look her sister in the eyes. They both sat in silence for a few minutes with an awkwardness in the air that had never been present before.

“Eunchae, I have something to tell you. And I need you to let me finish before you respond,” her sister asked, looking nervous.

“Okay...,” Eunchae replied, putting down her fork. She anxiously expected her sister to reveal she knew about her orgy last night and expected a lecture on safe sex. A lecture that was a day late, likely, Eunchae thought, putting her hand on her tummy.

“I appreciate that what I’m about to tell you will make you upset and may even make you feel betrayed. I know I messed up, but I hope you at least understand why I did this.” Eunchae suddenly had no clue where this was headed, but kept quiet as her sister had requested.

“Starting five months ago, right after the last of them turned eighteen, I have been engaging in sexual activities with your four friends. Wait. I should be clear about this, as you are an adult and need to hear the truth. I have been having sex with them. Orally, vaginally, and anally. Often at the same time. Your friends have a touch that drives me wild. Often, I pass out in an orgasmic spasm, only to wake up the next day hungry for more. We meet together whenever we can, which is 4 to 5 times a week. I should also mention that I got addicted to the feeling of their bare skin inside me, and thus, we haven’t been using protection. I’m... three months pregnant. I’m not sure which of them is the father, nor do I need to know. I’m so sorry about this. I tried to tell you yesterday, but you seemed so off-put by the idea of me being attracted to your friends. But I knew I had to tell you today, no matter what. How mad are you with me?”

Eunchae sat looking at her sister calmly for a minute before responding.

“Could we pretend you didn’t tell me this yet? My friends are coming over tonight, and there’s a new game we invented last night that I want to keep playing with them. Maybe we tell them in three or four months?”

Her sister smiled at her with understanding eyes.

“You should probably put some lube on your asshole. Trust me, it will help.”

#eunchae smut #le sserafim smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

1K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 6 months ago

Text

The wallflower.

Johnny clocks it immediately, your shoulders practically pinned against the pale-yellow wall, pint glass slick with condensation cradled between your fingers. Your eyes dart around and then away, finding something to study in the carpet, or the stairs, on the coffee table.

You’re not comfortable here, that much is clear.

He elbows Simon. “Poor girl looks nervous.” Simon gives you a furtive glance over the rim of his glasses, and nods.

“Probably only knows one person. Or got dragged here.” It’s Kyle’s wife’s birthday party. She has a lot of friends it seems, well liked in all facets of her life, work and otherwise. He clucks his tongue. “Sweet thing.” Someone bumps into you, and then pivots, reaching out to grab your arm in apology. You don’t tell him off or pull away. You just glance at his hand, meek smile stretching your lips sour. It turns Johnny’s stomach.

“She needs rescuing.”

“Johnny.” There’s a warning in Simon’s tone, a reproachful sentiment that he knows well. No strays. No projects. No more shelter pets.

“Ach c’mon. Look at her.” That one muscle in Simon’s cheek feathers, the one that says everything without Simon saying anything at all. Broken resolve.

He sighs. Johnny grins.

“Ye alright?” The man who’s taken up a residence at your shoulder is now speaking to you. Worse, he’s asking you if you’re alright.

“I… I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” You grip your glass tighter, ignoring the flip of your stomach. You snuck at glance at him when he first came over, and that was enough. He’s very handsome.

And you’re, well-

You’re… you.

“Someone ditch ye?” Oh god.

“Uh, no. My friend is over there.” You point to Anna’s back. She’s in the kitchen, laughing so loud you can hear her from across the living room.

“Ah. She did ditch ye.”

“No!” You glare at him, “No.”

“But she didnae offer to introduce you to anyone?” You wince, and his eyes flicker with sympathy. “Ah, she did.”

“I’m not good with… people.” The understatement of the year. You don’t do people. People are too unpredictable, too much of an unknown. A pattern of behavior will only take you so far, and it’s hard to forecast their actions, reactions, words, emotions… everything.

You prefer safer bets. Predictable things. Equations, mostly.

“Ye’re not good w’people, but ye’re at a party.”

“Yes, it’s quite a feat.” You snap your mouth shut, expecting him to give you a weird look, but he laughs.

“If ye’re uncomfortable, why stay?”

“Because, social interactions are good for me. And I promised myself a slice of cheese pizza if I made it an hour.” He should laugh. Most would. Most would think it’s fucking hilarious, how you’re bribing yourself, dangling a carrot in front of your face.

But this guy doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh. He cocks his head, and frowns. “So… ye’re torturing yourself so ye can earn a slice of pizza.” A nervous giggle bubbles up and out your throat.

“It sounds bad when you put it that way but-“

“It is bad.” A deep voice sounds from over your shoulder, and you jump.

“This is Simon.” Your new… friend, Johnny, motions to the hulking man at your side, and you manage a nod, spitting out your name. “He’s no’ scary, just looks it.” Johnny reaches for his hand, and the equation clicks to together with ease.

Oh.

“You here with a friend?”

“Uh. Yep.” You point to Anna, again, and they exchange a look.

“She ditch ya?” Same question, different accent, and you’re about to give the same answer, when Johnny intercedes.

“She’s here so she can have a slice of pizza.” Yeah. It sounds bad.

“Wot?”

“I… It’s good for me to be around people so I said if I could do it for an hour, I could have pizza.” They’re both wearing expressions you can’t translate, two faces you don’t understand, and it twists you up.

“Do you usually ransom yourself pizza?”

“N-no.”

“Is it… an eating thing?”

“Oh, no. It’s like… I’d rather be at home, but everyone says socializing is… important. So, for doing something I hate, I get pizza.” Simon sighs.

“Trying to fit a square into a circle.” The comment is puzzling, but as you’re trying to put it together, Johnny links his pinky with yours and tugs you closer. The room is quiet, the music, the laughing, the chatter, all of it goes silent. There are dozens and dozens of people in here, but right now, it’s just you and these two. Staring at one another. There’s a web thin string spinning from him, to you, to Simon, and it’s wrapping you up, cocooning you, holding you tight.

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye wannae go get that slice with us?” Do it. Just do it. Do something. You take a deep breath.

“Sure.”

They look comical, shoved into the pleather red booth across the table from you, Simon far too wide to comfortably accommodate Johnny, but they don’t seem to mind. “So, cheese then?” You nod, picking at the faded corner of a menu. This was a bad idea, this was stupid. What were you thinking? Why-

“Three slices of cheese please.” You hadn’t even noticed the server, and you panic when she starts to turn away.

“And a coke!” You blurt, immediately embarrassed. She stares at you for a second before nodding, forcing a smile, and walking off. Fuck. You press your palm down on the table, trying to focus on the texture, the feel of it.

“Hey,” Simon says softly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” You bristle.

“I know that.” Of course you know… don’t you?

Clearly not.

They don’t try to force you into conversation, but they do talk to you. They don’t ask you pointed questions or try to dig into you, instead choosing to tell you about themselves, their dog, their jobs. They keep you involved without dragging you in unwillingly.

It’s nice.

You’re halfway through your slice when you realize they’re watching you.

“What? Is there something on my face?” You frantically wipe at your chin, your cheeks. Simon’s mouth quirks.

“Nothing on your face, sweet girl.” Your brain scrambles. Words fail. You don’t think anyone has ever called you something like that before.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good.” Stupid.

“Go on and finish up.” He instructs, pointing at the grease laden slice, and you bring it to your mouth obediently. “Want to come for a walk with us after this? Our favorite park is around the corner, and the moon is really bright tonight.” A walk. With them. A walk? What does that mean? Just like, a walk?

Do it. Just do it. Do something. Be brave.

You roll your shoulders, and take a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly and swallowing.

And then you nod.

“Yes.”

#ghoap x reader #go peach give us nothing #trying to shake off some dust I guess #reader is neurodivergent #peaches writes

2K notes · View notes

kiwriteswords · 6 months ago

Note

Hello could I please request a fic where maybe the team doesnt like reader at first?

Winning Over the Kids [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4.5k|| AN: Thank you for the request; I love seeing all of them come in <3 Feedback is also always welcomed! xx

Tags/Warnings: implied age-gap, reader is a forensic psychologist, no use of y/n, secret relationship, team dislikes reader at first, protective Hotch, no mention of Jack--so up to you if he exists or not lol, mirroring the Lo-Fi vibes with Kate Joyner/Hotch/Team, canon-typical themes, some fluff, team dynamics, established relationship

Sypnosis: When Erin Strauss contracts a forensic psychologist to work with the BAU Team, Aaron Hotchner isn't sure if he is more frustrated with the fact that they dislike you as their newest team member or as his secret girlfriend.

Aaron Hotchner had spent years mastering the art of control. His team relied on him to remain composed under pressure, a steady anchor in chaos. But when Erin Strauss informed him that she was contracting a forensic psychologist to assist the BAU, he felt his resolve stretch thin. Not because he doubted the decision—he knew you were exceptional—but because the team didn’t know the full story.

You were brilliant, sharp, and confident. You had risen through the ranks faster than most, your reputation built on precision and expertise. Yet, whispers of you being a “workaholic” and “cutthroat” followed you, a product of stereotypes surrounding young, successful women in high-stakes fields. Aaron had seen it before, but it infuriated him nonetheless, especially now that you were his… well, not officially, but close enough to feel the sting of those judgments on your behalf.

At the morning briefing, he broke the news. “The Bureau has decided to bring in a forensic psychologist to collaborate with us on our cases. She’ll be joining us starting tomorrow.”

Predictably, the room bristled.

“A shrink? Really?” Derek Morgan leaned back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “No offense, Hotch, but we kind of know how to read people.”

Emily Prentiss folded her arms. “Isn’t that the point of profiling? What does Strauss think we’ve been doing all this time?”

JJ added carefully, “Is this about our mental health? Are we supposed to… talk to her?”

Spencer Reid, ever the analyst, frowned. “I’ve read that forensic psychologists in consulting roles often critique operational dynamics. Could this be Strauss trying to monitor us?”

Aaron kept his face neutral, though he wanted to correct them all. You were nothing like what they imagined. “This isn’t about our capabilities. The psychologist has specific expertise in complex cases involving psychological manipulation. Her role is to supplement our efforts, not replace them.”

“Yeah, until she starts picking apart everything we do,” Derek muttered.

Aaron resisted the urge to snap. They didn’t know you yet. They didn’t see the meticulous care you put into every decision, or the softer moments when you let your guard down with him.

The next day, you arrived at Quantico with a polished confidence that turned heads. Ready to take on the next case, which was local to the BAU.

You greeted the team with a professional demeanor, offering a firm handshake and an easy smile. But the tension was palpable. The team’s skepticism hung in the air like a storm cloud, and Aaron felt his jaw tighten as he observed their guarded reactions.

Derek kept his distance, observing you with a critical eye. Emily was polite but cool, and even JJ seemed uncertain about how to approach you. Spencer avoided eye contact altogether. Rossi…well, Rossi seemed to sit back and take it all in.

“Let’s get to work,” Aaron said, more curtly than he intended, leading the group into the roundtable room.

You took a seat beside him, your notebook open and pen poised. “I’ve reviewed the case files,” you began, your voice steady and self-assured. “The unsub’s behavior suggests a deep-seated fear of abandonment, likely rooted in childhood trauma. But the escalation pattern indicates recent stressors. Have you explored potential triggers within the last six months?”

Reid blinked, clearly taken aback. “We—uh, we considered family dynamics, but we didn’t narrow the timeline that specifically.”

Your sharp gaze turned to him, not unkindly. “It’s worth revisiting. The timeline could give us a better idea of who influenced him most recently.”

Aaron noticed the way Reid shifted uncomfortably, and it grated on him. You were offering valuable insights, yet the team’s resistance was evident.

After the briefing, Derek muttered to Emily, loud enough for Aaron to hear, “Well, she doesn’t waste time, does she?”

Aaron’s patience wore thin. “Morgan, a word,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

In his office, Aaron shut the door and faced Derek. “What’s your problem with her?”

Derek raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t say anything she didn’t earn. She walks in here acting like she knows everything. What do you expect us to do—roll out the red carpet?”

“I expect you to treat her with the same respect you’d give any other professional,” Aaron snapped. “She’s here because she’s the best at what she does, and we need her expertise. Whatever preconceived notions you have, leave them at the door.”

Derek frowned but nodded. “Got it, Hotch.”

Aaron exhaled slowly after Derek left. He knew he couldn’t shield you completely, but it infuriated him that he had to watch you navigate the team’s cold reception.

That evening, after everyone had gone home, you found Aaron in his office. You closed the door behind you and leaned against it, crossing your arms. “So, how bad was it?”

He looked up from his desk, his expression softening. “They’ll come around.”

You smirked, though your eyes held a flicker of vulnerability. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Aaron stood and walked over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to prove yourself to them. I know who you are, and eventually, they will too.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile breaking through. “Is that your way of saying you’re proud of me, Agent Hotchner?”

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Always.”

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted. Here, behind closed doors, you didn’t have to be the prodigy or the psychologist with a reputation. You were just you, and Aaron was fiercely determined to make sure the team saw that too—someday.

The next morning, as Aaron walked into Quantico, he noticed a huddle forming near Penelope’s desk. Derek, Emily, Spencer, JJ, and Penelope stood together, their voices low but animated. He had planned to keep walking, but a snippet of their conversation caught his attention.

“I’m telling you, I heard she’s impossible to work with,” Penelope whispered, her usual warmth absent.

“Yeah, and she’s already showing it,” Derek added. “Control issues, first day on the job.”

“So far, It’s just one case,” Emily said, though her tone was skeptical. “But she’s definitely… intense.”

“We don’t need someone analyzing us while we’re trying to profile an unsub,” JJ muttered.

“I don’t think she’s here for that,” Reid said hesitantly. “But… yeah, I’ve heard the whispers too.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened as he listened. He wanted to intervene, to defend you, but he bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time. Instead, he walked away, the sting of their words lingering. He felt almost betrayed. His team was usually better than this. They prided themselves on fairness, on seeing beyond the surface. But in this case, they were clinging to gossip and prejudice, and it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

When you arrived, you carried yourself with the same poise and determination Aaron admired. You greeted the team briefly, your no-nonsense demeanor firmly in place. “Let’s get to work,” you said, spreading the case files across the conference table.

Your approach was methodical and efficient, and though Aaron knew it was how you operated, he could see how it rubbed the team the wrong way. They weren’t used to outsiders, especially not ones who came in with your level of authority and expertise. But they were professionals, and they pushed their reservations aside as the case progressed.

Aaron watched you closely throughout the day. You were unflinching in your analysis, your insights sharp and accurate. When you spoke, your voice carried confidence, but he could sense the subtle edge in your tone—a shield you had learned to wield over years of proving yourself.

After the case briefing wrapped up, Aaron found you in one of the quieter corners of the office. You were reviewing your notes, your expression focused but unreadable.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice low.

You glanced up, a small smile playing at your lips. “I’m fine, Aaron. It’s not my first rodeo.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowing. “I’ve heard some of the things they’ve said,” he admitted. “They don’t know you, and they’re wrong. I’m sorry for how unwelcoming they’ve been.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You don’t have to apologize for them. I get it. They’re protective of their team, and I’m an outsider. It’ll take time.”

“It shouldn’t have to,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended. He softened, adding, “You shouldn’t have to prove yourself to them.”

Your smile widened, though there was a flicker of something softer in your eyes. “I’ve been proving myself my whole life, Aaron. This is nothing new. Besides, I’ve got you in my corner, right?”

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

For a moment, the weight of the day lifted, and he allowed himself to take comfort in your resilience. But as he returned to the team, he resolved to address their behavior. They needed to see you for who you truly were—and he wouldn’t rest until they did.

During the next case you assisted on, the tension had been simmering all day, and Aaron could feel it building like a storm. You had just delivered a sharp, insightful breakdown of the unsub’s likely behavior patterns, pointing out inconsistencies in the case file that had gone unnoticed. It was the kind of analysis that would have earned respect from anyone else, but not today. Not from this team, not yet.

The briefing room was quiet for a moment after you finished speaking. Emily exchanged a glance with Derek, and JJ tapped her pen against the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating.

“That’s… an interesting perspective,” Derek said, leaning back in his chair. His tone was polite, but Aaron caught the subtle edge, the unspoken doubt.

You didn’t falter. “It’s not just a perspective,” you replied, your voice calm and measured. “The data supports it. If you cross-reference the victimology with the geographic profile—”

“We get it,” Emily interrupted, her tone sharper than usual. “But we’ve been doing this a long time. We know how to read behavior.”

Aaron’s jaw tightened. He glanced at you, but your expression remained composed, even as he could see the faint tension in your posture. You nodded slightly, as if conceding the point, and continued reviewing the case files without another word.

The meeting wrapped soon after, but Aaron lingered behind, pretending to organize his notes. That’s when he heard it.

“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with her,” Emily muttered as the others gathered near the coffee station. “She’s so… clinical. It’s like she doesn’t even care about the victims, just the data.”

“She’s got control issues, for sure,” Derek added. “Like she’s got something to prove.”

JJ sighed. “Maybe Strauss sent her to micromanage us. I mean, why else would she be here? We’re already the best at what we do.”

Aaron slammed his folder shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The team froze, turning to see him standing there, his expression dark and unreadable.

“Enough,” he said, his voice low but laced with unmistakable anger. He stepped toward them, his gaze sweeping over each of them. “I don’t know what’s more disappointing--your lack of professionalism or your willingness to tear someone down based on assumptions and gossip.”

The team exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.

“You think she’s here to micromanage you? She’s here to help. And the fact that you can’t see the value in her insights says more about your egos than it does about her methods.”

“Hotch, we didn’t mean—” JJ started, but he cut her off.

“No,” he said firmly. “You did mean it. And if you spent half as much energy working with her as you do undermining her, we’d be a hell of a lot closer to catching this unsub.”

The room fell silent. Aaron rarely raised his voice, and when he did, it carried the weight of finality. He let the silence hang for a moment before he continued.

“She’s not here to prove herself to you. She’s already proven herself, time and time again. It’s time for you to rise to her level, not drag her down to yours.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he’d have to address this further later, but for now, he needed to find you. He wanted to make sure you were okay to remind you, in whatever small way he could, that he was still in your corner. Always.

Aaron Hotchner found you where he expected to: in one of the unused offices, deep in thought over the case files. You were perched on the edge of the desk, flipping through pages with a sharp focus that never failed to impress him. The tension he’d carried since leaving the briefing room eased slightly when he saw how calm you were.

You didn’t even look up when he stepped inside. “Didn’t expect you to find me so quickly,” you said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Aaron leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I needed to check in. The team…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “They were out of line.”

That made you pause. You glanced up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Aaron, it’s fine,” you said, setting the file down. “I’ve been in this position before. People don’t like change, and they don’t like outsiders. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he replied, his voice firmer than he intended. “It’s not fair, and it’s not professional.”

You tilted your head, studying him in that way you always did when you were about to cut through the noise. “They don’t know, Aaron. About us.” Your tone was even, but there was a hint of something deeper there--not accusation, just acknowledgment.

He stiffened slightly, but nodded. “They don’t. And I’d prefer to keep it that way. For now.”

You let out a quiet hum, leaning back on your hands. “For now, sure. But you should think about it. They’re already questioning why you’re defending me. If they find out later that it’s because we’re involved, it won’t sit well with them. They’ll feel like you’ve been hiding something important.”

“They’ll feel betrayed,” Aaron said, the weight of the truth settling over him.

You nodded, a small, knowing smile on your face. “Exactly. Look, I can handle their doubts, their gossip, whatever they want to throw at me. But you need to decide how long you want to keep this a secret. They’re your team. They’re loyal to you. But they also need to trust you.”

Aaron stepped further into the room, his expression softening as he regarded you. “You don’t care what they think of you, do you?”

“Not even a little,” you said with a shrug, your confidence steady. “I’ve spent years dealing with this kind of thing. It’s not new, and it doesn’t bother me. What does bother me,” you added, meeting his eyes, “is the idea of this coming out later and making things harder for you. Or for us.”

Aaron let out a slow breath, running a hand over the back of his neck. You were right, of course. You always were. He couldn’t keep this from his team forever, and things with you had grown too serious for him to pretend otherwise. He had never been one to let his personal life interfere with his work, but this was different. You were different.

“This is serious,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You arched a brow, a teasing smile breaking through. “Wow, Aaron. Way to make a girl feel special.”

He stepped closer, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “You know what I mean. Things are serious between us. You’re not going anywhere, and neither is the team. I need to find a way to make this work.”

You softened, your hand brushing against his as he stood next to you. “You will. They’ll come around, Aaron. And if they don’t, well…” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting in a smirk. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

Aaron felt a warmth spread through him, a rare sense of peace in the midst of the chaos. You were right, as always. He would figure it out--not just because he had to, but because you were worth it.

And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe that it would all work out.

Aaron Hotchner had always believed in leading by example. Transparency, fairness, and honesty were core tenets of how he ran his team, and they had rewarded him with loyalty and mutual respect. But as he stood in the conference room, waiting for his team to gather for an unscheduled meeting, he knew he had failed to uphold one of those principles.

The team filtered in, curiosity and unease written across their faces. JJ and Emily exchanged glances, Reid clutched his ever-present notebook, and Derek leaned against the edge of the table with his arms crossed. Penelope, usually lighthearted, looked slightly nervous. Rossi lingered at the back, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought.

When the door closed, Aaron cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “I asked you all here because there’s something I need to address—something I should have told you from the beginning.”

The team straightened, their collective focus sharpening. Aaron had their attention.

“You’ve all expressed concerns about having a forensic psychologist embedded in the team,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “You’ve questioned her presence, her methods, and, frankly, her character. Some of those comments have been professional disagreements, but others have crossed the line. I’ve let it continue longer than I should have, and for that, I take responsibility.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably while Morgan frowned. Reid’s brow furrowed in confusion, his pen tapping lightly against his notebook. Rossi, though silent, tilted his head slightly, a knowing look flickering across his face.

Aaron met each of their gazes in turn, his tone unwavering. “The reason I know she’s good at her job—why I trust her, and why I know she’s not here to spy on us or undermine our work—is because I’ve been seeing her outside of work. For a while now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Reid blinked rapidly, his pen freezing mid-air. JJ’s mouth opened slightly as if to speak, and Penelope let out a small, involuntary gasp. Derek sat up straighter, his brows furrowed in disbelief. Emily’s eyes widened, but she quickly masked her surprise. Rossi, however, didn’t look shocked at all. Instead, his lips quirked into the faintest of smirks, as though confirming a suspicion.

“I had no say in her placement on this team,” Aaron continued, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Strauss made the decision, and she made it clear that the reason is simple: she’s the best. You’ve seen it for yourselves, even if you haven’t wanted to admit it. Her insights have already helped move this case forward. She is not your enemy, nor is she here to judge you.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. “I didn’t disclose our relationship because I wanted to keep our personal lives separate from our professional ones. But as your Unit Chief and as her partner, I will not tolerate disrespect toward her—whether it’s behind her back or to her face.”

Reid, finally finding his voice, asked hesitantly, “Does she…know about us? I mean, our dynamics, our methods? Or does she see us as part of the problem?”

Aaron’s expression softened slightly as he addressed the question. “She knows exactly who you are and how good you are at what you do. She’s here to help you do your jobs better, not to interfere. But she also deserves the same respect you’d give any other member of this team.”

Rossi finally spoke, his tone measured. “And you think telling us this now is going to smooth things over?” His words weren’t accusatory, but they carried weight.

“I think,” Aaron replied, meeting Rossi’s gaze, “that you deserved to know the truth. And I think it’s time we focus on the job at hand rather than creating divisions that don’t need to exist.”

The silence lingered until Derek broke it. “Hotch, we didn’t mean to—”

Aaron held up a hand. “I know you didn’t mean harm, but intentions don’t erase the impact. This team works because we trust each other. That trust goes both ways. If there’s something you need to say, say it to me or to her directly. Gossip and disrespect have no place here.”

JJ nodded, her expression softening. “You’re right. We were out of line. I think…I think we just felt blindsided.”

Aaron’s tone eased, though it remained firm. “I understand. Change isn’t easy, but it’s necessary. You’ll see soon enough why she’s here. Until then, I need your cooperation.”

Emily exchanged a glance with Morgan, then nodded. “We’ll work on it. I promise.”

Rossi gave a small nod of approval, his smirk gone but his understanding clear. “She’s good, Aaron. I’ve seen it. Let’s make sure the rest of the team sees it too.”

Reid looked thoughtful, his pen tapping rhythmically again. “I think we can…adjust. If she’s here to make us better, that’s not a bad thing.”

Aaron gave a single nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. That’s all I wanted to say. Dismissed.”

As the team filed out, murmuring quietly among themselves, Rossi lingered behind. “You know,” he said, crossing his arms, “you could’ve just told me this a week ago.”

Aaron allowed himself the faintest smile. “Would it have made a difference?”

“Probably not,” Rossi said with a shrug, “but it would’ve saved you the speech.” With that, he left, leaving Aaron alone to gather his thoughts.

For now, he had taken the first step. And he could only hope it was enough.

Over the next few days, Aaron began to notice subtle shifts in his team’s behavior toward you. It wasn’t immediate, nor was it dramatic, but the signs were there. During case briefings, they no longer exchanged skeptical glances when you spoke. Instead, they began nodding along or even asking follow-up questions. Derek, who had been one of the most vocal skeptics, offered a rare compliment about your interrogation technique after a successful suspect interview.

“She’s got a way of getting under people’s skin,” Morgan admitted to Rossi when he thought Aaron wasn’t listening. “In a good way, I guess.”

Aaron didn’t respond, but he tucked the comment away, feeling an unspoken sense of satisfaction.

Even Reid, who had initially kept his distance, began peppering you with questions about your graduate work. You seemed to enjoy indulging him, discussing obscure psychological theories with the same enthusiasm he brought to the conversation. JJ and Emily followed suit, no longer as guarded, and Penelope—while still wary—had gone out of her way to show you how to use the BAU’s internal systems.

Aaron observed it all with quiet pride. His team was warming up to you, just as he had hoped, and it wasn’t because he’d told them to—it was because of you. Your intelligence, your confidence, and your ability to adapt were slowly breaking down the barriers they’d put up.

That evening, as the two of you wrapped up some paperwork in his office, you leaned back in your chair and smirked at him. “You know,” you said, your voice light with amusement, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Aaron looked up from his file, one brow raised. “Enjoying what?”

“You’re like the team dad,” you teased, crossing your arms. “All broody and protective, wanting the stepmom to be liked by the kids.”

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, low and rich. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” you shot back, grinning. “Because I think you’ve been paying more attention to their approval ratings for me than I have.”

He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head but still smiling. “Maybe. But only because I know how much they mean to you—and how much you mean to me. I want this to work.”

Your expression softened, and for a moment, the teasing dropped. “It already is, Aaron. You don’t have to worry.”

His smile lingered as he looked at you, the tension that had been weighing on him for weeks finally starting to lift.

The real sign of progress came at the end of the week. The team had just wrapped up a grueling case, and as everyone packed up their things, Derek clapped his hands together.

“Alright, we’re going out. Drinks, food, and maybe a little dancing. Who’s in?”

JJ and Emily immediately agreed, and Reid nodded hesitantly, though he muttered something about “just one drink.” Rossi chuckled but offered a quick “Count me in.” Penelope looked around, her bright demeanor back in full force. “Where are we going? And more importantly, is there karaoke?”

Derek laughed. “No promises, Garcia.”

Then, almost casually, JJ turned to you. “You should come,” she said, her tone friendly and genuine. “You’ve had a long week too. You deserve to relax a little.”

Aaron didn’t miss the slight hesitation in your posture before you smiled. “I might take you up on that.”

“Good,” JJ said, already texting someone. “It’ll be fun.”

Aaron stayed silent, watching the moment unfold. The invitation wasn’t forced or reluctant—it was sincere. It was an olive branch, extended without fanfare, and he could tell by the look on your face that you recognized it for what it was.

As the team began filing out, chatting about where to go, you lingered by his desk. “That was unexpected,” you said quietly, glancing at him with a small smile.

“They’re coming around,” Aaron replied, his voice equally soft. “I told you they would.”

You smirked. “Well, Dad, looks like the kids like the stepmom after all.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he stood. “Let’s just hope I can keep them from embarrassing us tonight.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you teased, grabbing your bag. “Now, come on. You’ve got to show me if Unit Chief Hotchner can actually let loose.”

As you both headed out to join the others, Aaron felt a rare lightness in his chest. Things were falling into place—his team, you, everything. And for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to enjoy it.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #kiwriteswords

1K notes · View notes

shortnspidey · 19 days ago

Text

MANCHILD

Rafe Cameron X Kook!Reader || WC: 6.5K

SUMMARY: Being friends with Rafe Cameron was never simple. Especially when that friendship blurred into something more, only his behavior made it impossible to hold onto hope. You grew tired of picking up the pieces, of being his fallback girl while he refused to grow up. You wanted something real, not emotional whiplash. And if Rafe couldn't stop treating your heart like an afterthought, you’d rather walk away than let him break it again.

WARNINGS: Typical OBX themes, cursing, mentions of drugs and alcohol, Rafe (because that man is a warning), mild violence, platonic JJ x reader, angst, fluffy ending

A/N: This fic is inspired by miss Sabrina's new single which has been on repeat for me since it first came out. Hope y’all enjoy! <3

➩ main masterlist

➩ rafe cameron masterlist

The Kildare Enduro was a staple for a reason, more than just a race, it was a spectacle. The air buzzed with the tang of gasoline and dust, the guttural roar of engines rolling across the makeshift track. Cheers echoed from every direction, both Kooks and Pogues, red Solo cups in hand, locals hyped up by the scent of adrenaline and the promise of utter and pure chaos. You hadn’t planned on going.

Honestly, the idea of peeling yourself out of bed and into the heat just to watch overgrown boys play with horsepower didn’t thrill you. Yet by mid-morning, Kiara had shown up at your door honking her horn like a madwoman, and Sarah wasn’t too far behind. Before you knew it, you were shoved in the backseat of the Twinkie, the smell of sunscreen, spilled soda, and JJ's lingering weed filling the car as the windows stayed down, blasting music as the coastline blurred past.

And so here you were, standing off to the side, arms crossed over your chest, trying to act interested as Sarah excitedly pointed out one stunt after another. Dirt bikes shot off ramps like they had wings, tires skidding across loose gravel, riders pulling off reckless backflips and tail whips just to earn a few more cheers, as well as few more bets in their favor. Still, your eyes kept scanning the crowd of competitors. Your jaw tensed every time you caught a glimpse of blonde hair under a helmet.

Every time a voice in your head asked, Is that him? You hated that you were doing this, searching for him. Rafe Cameron had no business being here, but of course that’s what made it so likely. That boy never met a bad idea he didn’t like, and danger? He wore it like a badge of honor. You used to find that magnetic. Now, it just made your stomach twist. You told yourself you were over it. That you were done playing the one he came crawling to when everything else blew up in his face.

Yet, there you stood, heart betraying you in the quiet ways it always had with him. Because no matter how hard you tried to act unaffected, part of you still wondered if he’d show up. If he’d look for you in the crowd like you were always looking for him. And worse, if he’d still expect you to be waiting. Because if there was one thing Rafe Cameron knew how to do, it was running to you when he had nowhere else to go. So instead of looking for him among the crowd, you tuned into Pope’s voice, as he spit out statistics and predictions that barely masked your restlessness.

He was mid-sentence, rattling off about ratios and tire grip percentages like a man possessed, while Cleo crouched low by JJ’s bike, her hands moving with practiced precision. She was focused, wiping grime off the throttle, double-checking bolts, making sure the motorcycle wouldn’t betray JJ mid-race. You envied that clarity, knowing exactly what needed fixing and how to do it. You wished your heart worked the same way. Then it happened, almost as if he knew you had just stopped searching for him.

The sharp, cocky growl of an engine sliced through the air. You didn’t even have to look. You felt him before you saw him. Rafe’s bike was louder than it needed to be, all polished chrome and empty bravado, and when he rolled to a stop a few feet away, the tension in the air shifted. Like gravity decided to pull toward him instead of the earth. Topper, as usual was right there at his side, already sneering in JJ and John B’s direction.

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His helmet was off, tucked under one arm, and his eyes were locked on you, stormy, unreadable, and furious. You scoffed under your breath before you could stop yourself. A sharp, involuntary sound that was equal parts amusement and exhaustion. Of course he would show up like this. Of course he’d find a way to remind you he was always watching. And JJ noticed. In an instant, he was by your side, arm slinging around your shoulders with that boyish ease that only he could pull off without effort.

He gave you a half-hug that you reciprocated, his touch grounding you in that moment. "You won't be mad if I beat your boyfriend, right, Y/N?" He asked, that trademark grin playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes, but smiled despite yourself. His timing was impeccable. "I'm not his keeper, so go ahead, JJ." The words came with a sigh, a little more tired than you intended. But it was the truth. Because you weren’t. You weren’t Rafe’s anything. Not officially. Not out loud. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like something.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the sharp turn of Rafe’s head. He was staring at the way JJ’s arm rested around your shoulder like it belonged there. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the helmet in his grip. If looks could kill, JJ would’ve been six feet under. And still, he said nothing. He never said anything. Just played his games, ran hot one night and frigid the next. Made you feel like the center of his universe, then vanished into silence like none of it ever happened. You were tired of wondering if the fire in his eyes meant love, hate, or something in between.

You missed the look Kiara and Sarah shared beside you, one of knowing sympathy. Instead, you focused on the stack of bracelets on your wrist, fingers tugging one higher up your arm as if rearranging them could settle the ache building in your chest. If Rafe Cameron wanted to pretend he didn’t care, then fine. You could play that game too. But you couldn’t deny it, no matter how much space you tried to put between your heart and his, you still felt that same sharp pull every time he was near.

The question was: how much longer could you pretend it didn’t matter?

With one last reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, JJ peeled away, his usual swagger in full effect as he made his way toward the makeshift starting line. He slipped seamlessly into the scene, nodding at John B who stood beside him, his designated backup. The two of them huddled around JJ’s bike, doing final checks while the other racers began rolling their machines into position. The air had shifted. Thicker now, electric with anticipation.

The countdown hadn’t even begun and already your nerves felt like frayed wires sparking under your skin. Your gaze moved instinctively, searching again despite yourself and caught on Rafe. He was standing by his bike, the picture of smug confidence. He looked good. That was the worst part. Too good. The kind of effortless good that pissed you off because he didn’t even have to try. But what cut deeper was the way he moved, purposeful, sharp, stalking toward John B like their rivalry hadn’t cooled one bit. You watched as he gestured with his chin toward you, chest puffed like a warning shot.

You couldn’t hear what he said, but the smug scoff that followed said enough. Then, like nothing happened, he turned away. No glance back. No smirk. No flicker of anything in his eyes as he marched back to his bike and secured his helmet, sealing himself off from the world. From you. Just like always, he pushed, then pulled away. Said nothing, but expected you to read between the silences. You told yourself you were done falling for that routine, but your chest still ached like he had sucker-punched the air out of your lungs without even touching you.

“Yo, JJ, did you build that yourself from a kit?” Topper’s voice tore through the moment like nails on a chalkboard, loud, mocking, and as insufferable as ever. You visibly cringed at the sound. God, how you hated him. JJ didn’t skip a beat. He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “It’s not about the bike, bro. You’ll see.” You watched him mount his bike like he belonged there, like every piece of him was aligned with the machine beneath him. Still, your eyes drifted again, betraying you again.

Rafe, now sat rigid and ready, fingers gripping the handlebars, jaw set tight under the visor of his helmet. His posture was stiff, like he was fighting something. Maybe nerves. Maybe rage. Or maybe, just maybe, the sight of JJ with his arm around you was still echoing in his mind like gunfire. You secretly hoped that was the reason. That way he could get a taste of what you felt every time he was surrounded by women, flirting shamelessly as if you weren’t in the same room and felt the way you did about him. You leaned toward Cleo, dropping your voice low.

“What are the odds that asshole has a mechanical issue?” You asked motioning over towards Topper. Cleo’s eyes sparkled as she bit back a laugh. “Wishful hoping,” She muttered back making you smile. It was a joke. Mostly. It’s safe to say you never wish for anything harder. The starting flags rose in the air. Engines revved. The race was seconds away, and so was the potential fallout. Because no matter how fast they rode, you knew someone’s pride wasn’t making it out of this clean. “Alright guys, listen up!”

A voice called, muffled slightly by the noise of revving engines and the crowd’s restless energy. You looked up to see the woman in charge, stepping up onto a dented cooler like it was her podium. “Race is to the old buoy and back!” She shouted, voice clear now that the engines had quieted slightly. “Other than that, no rules!” That was the part that made your stomach twist. No rules meant no mercy. Not when it came to egos like Rafe Cameron’s. He was the kind of person who didn’t see boundaries, only opportunities to push harder, to hurt more.

And something in his body language told you this wasn’t just about winning the race. This was about making a point. The competitors lined up, front tires angled toward the narrow break between dunes that led to the open beach trail. You caught sight of JJ, already straddling his bike, shoulders rolling like he was shaking off the nerves. John B was by his smacking JJ’s back for luck. The woman raised her hand. The crowd buzzed louder. Your heart beat out of sync with everything around you.

“On your marks!”

The engines howled.

“Get set!”

The world held its breath.

“GO!”

The ground seemed to explode. Sand kicked up in a cloud as tires spun and rocketed forward, engines screaming with unleashed fury. The racers surged down the path, weaving past each other in a blur. All except one. JJ’s bike lurched forward with a weak cough, then sputtered. The rear tire kicked up a sad puff of sand before sinking deeper, completely stuck. The bike tilted slightly, and JJ slammed a palm against the handlebar in frustration.

The rear tire spun wildly, digging deeper into the soft sand. He leaned forward, adjusted, gunned the throttle, nothing. The machine jerked once, uselessly, then sputtered. It was stuck, buried just enough to throw off his start. Your heart plummeted. The rest of the riders tore down the beach, out front, unmistakably, Rafe had taken the lead, completely unbothered by what was happening behind him. JJ jumped off, digging his boots into the sand, yanking the handlebars with a frustrated burst of energy.

The bike rocked, tilted, but he didn’t give up. A second, maybe two, passed like an eternity. Then the rear wheel caught. He was back on in a flash. With one violent twist of the throttle, JJ surged forward, the engine finally catching traction. He disappeared into the chase, trailing behind the rest but gaining speed fast. You stood frozen, heart hammering. Pope said something behind you. Cleo moved toward the track, slow and calculating. Kiara’s hand brushed your arm, grounding you, but all you could focus on was the tightening knot in your chest.

The distant roar of engines echoed against the crashing surf as JJ disappeared into the shimmering heat haze of the beach trail, far behind the rest. But even from where you stood, you could see the determination in the way his body hunched low over the handlebars, elbows tucked, eyes locked ahead. He was pushing the bike hard, harder than most would dare on that terrain. After all he had everything to lose. By the lack of noise, you guessed that some racers had begun falling behind as sandbanks and tight curves slowed them down.

However, out front as announced by the umpires, Rafe cut through the course like a man possessed. He wasn’t just racing, he was performing. Kicking up sand with tail slides, lifting the front wheel into a controlled wheelie, twisting into sharp turns just close enough to the flags to make people gasp. Every stunt was loud. Designed to draw eyes. And it worked. Only, JJ was gaining. Little by little, the distance closed. He blew past two riders stuck behind a shallow tide pool. Skated around another who tried to block him out near the jagged driftwood stretch.

John B wasn’t far ahead, holding steady behind Topper, who rode like the bastard he was, weaving, swerving too close, flinging sand into John B’s path with every exaggerated cut of his back wheel. And then he did it. Just as JJ was narrowing in on them, Topper slowed, only to sharply cut across John B’s lane, nearly clipping his front tire. John B swerved, barely staying upright, skidding dangerously close to the rock-slick shoreline. JJ veered wide to avoid the tangle, engine snarling in protest as he charged forward.

Behind his helmet, you could practically feel the heat of JJ’s fury. The trail narrowed ahead, splitting into two lanes before leading to the inlet: a wide stretch of water, deceptively shallow in places, but tricky to navigate. Most racers slowed down, planning to take the longer arc around it. Rafe didn’t. He sped straight for the edge, lifted his front tire, and jumped, his bike slicing cleanly through the air before landing with a spray of sand on the other side. The crowd screamed, thrilled by the recklessness of it.

But JJ wasn’t backing down. He was last into the turn. Last to the edge. But instead of hesitating, he went faster, faster than he should’ve. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he hit the lip of the dune and launched. He cleared the inlet. For a heartbeat, he was airborne and then before any of you could blink, he landed hard, suspension groaning as his wheels bit into the sand. And just like that, he was in front of Rafe. You didn’t even realize you were clenching your fists until Sarah gasped beside you, grabbing your arm.

The crowd was deafening, and yet all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears as JJ surged ahead, heading toward the finish line. But Rafe wouldn’t have it. He was right behind him now, tucked in close, too close. The two of them thundered across the final stretch, neck and neck. You saw it happening before it happened. Rafe angled in, subtle at first, then harder. He clipped the back of JJ’s tire with the front of his own. In result, JJ’s bike bucked sideways. For a split second, it looked like he might recover. But it was too late.

Both bikes skidded.

Both riders went airborne.

The impact wasn't catastrophic, but it was violent, bodies rolling, metal skidding, sand exploding in clouds as the two of them hit the ground, limbs tangled, bikes flipping beside them. The entire crowd held its breath. You could feel your pulse in your teeth. Bottom lip caught in between your teeth so hard it drew blood. You heard Kiara gasp as JJ pushed himself up first, coughing. Rafe followed, rolling onto his back, helmet cracked at the edge. Yet the race wasn’t over. Through the cloud of chaos, one rider crossed the line.

Topper.

His smug face tore past the checkered flag as the woman waved the finish. He threw his arms in the air, howling in victory as if he hadn’t just sabotaged half the damn race. Around you, people cheered. Pope shouted something. Kiara cursed. Sarah rushed towards John B. All you could do was watch as JJ ripped off his helmet, face flushed and jaw clenched, standing in the wreckage of what should have been his moment. He didn’t look at Topper. He didn’t even look at Rafe. He just stared at the finish line like it was mocking him.

By the time you and the rest of the Pogues reached him, he’d already turned his back. John B got to him first, hand outstretched, but JJ swatted it away with a sharp shake of his head. Kiara tried next, murmuring something under her breath as she reached for his arm, but he pulled free. He was seething. You stopped short a few feet away, your shoes digging into the sand as you watched the scene unfold from the outside. Eventually, JJ walked off, shoulders rigid, leaving the others calling after him. No one followed.

You stood there, arms crossed and unsure whether to chase after him or let him cool off. You knew him well enough to know that pushing would only make it worse. Still, your chest ached with the need to do something, to say something. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, heavy and uncertain. Before you could move, a shadow passed beside you. Rafe. He walked with a slight limp, favoring his left knee as he approached, dust and blood smeared across his temple. His helmet hung loosely in one hand, forgotten.

You didn’t look at him. Not right away. Not until he stopped a few feet away, gaze heavy on you. You could feel it, like heat against your skin. Slowly, you turned, cautious and guarded, unsure what he’d come to say. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out at first. For once, the arrogant smirk was gone. Replaced with something that looked dangerously close to regret. He took a breath, voice low and strained. “Can we please talk?” You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure you could.

So he tried again. Something about the way he looked at you, lost and pleading beneath the cracks in his armor made your chest tighten. He looked vulnerable. You didn’t want to give him this moment. Not after everything. Not after how he'd handled you, or worse, how he'd handled JJ. But you hesitated. And in that hesitation, he stepped closer, his expression softening just enough to remind you that despite everything he was, he still felt something. “Just a minute, please Y/N.” He rasped, motioning off to the side.

It wasn’t a demand. It was a beg. And against every bitter impulse, you gave the smallest of nods. Only a minute. But you already knew, nothing about this was going to be simple. The weight of Rafe’s request lingered in the space between you, unsettling and hard to ignore. You hated how easily his voice slipped beneath your skin, how his presence still sparked something sharp and tangled in your chest. And yet, despite everything you followed him. Behind you, the Pogues watched in stunned silence.

Their gazes pressed into your back. You turned, just once, to look at them. Pope’s brow was furrowed, clearly fighting the urge to say something. Cleo stood with her arms crossed, a hard edge in her stance. Kiara looked like she didn’t know whether to stop you or simply trust your judgment. John B’s jaw practically dropped. And Sarah, Sarah’s eyes held something softer, understanding maybe, but it only made the knot in your throat tighten. You met their eyes hesitantly, almost shamefully.

Then, without thinking, you gave them all a half-assed thumbs up. Was it your proudest moment? Most definitely not. Was it reassurance? Hardly, you thought mentally kicking yourself. You weren’t even sure if it was for them or so that you could reassure yourself. To nobody’s super, they didn’t return it. They just watched as you turned away. Following after the one person you shouldn’t. And all you could think of in that moment was: What could possibly go wrong?

Despite everything in your body that screamed don’t do this, the ache in your gut, the guilt simmering under your skin you followed him. Rafe didn’t look back as he led you down the path, steps heavy against the old wood of the dock. The cheers and chaos of the race faded behind you, swallowed by the sound of the ocean, waves crashing against rocks like a warning you couldn’t quite decipher. The pier was nearly deserted.

Only seagulls overhead and the distant hiss of the wind weaving through rusted rails. But inside your chest, your heartbeat was deafening. Rafe stopped near the edge, dried blood at his temple. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you. And that silence, it lit a spark you didn’t bother putting out. “Are you going to talk,” You snapped, voice cutting through the quiet like glass. “Or just stand there while I try to read your mind like always?” Your words hung in the air, bitter and biting.

He flinched, barely, but you caught it. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching beneath his skin as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides like he didn’t trust them not to break something. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself not to reach for you. You waited, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Not just at him, for the crash, for JJ, for the way he looked at you like you were his and nothing at all at the same time, but mostly at yourself, too.

For being here. For caring. For still looking at him and wanting answers when you should’ve walked away the moment he asked. Rafe exhaled sharply, jaw ticking, still not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that.” He muttered, finally. Quiet. Almost like he hated the words as they left his mouth. You scoffed, stepping forward, heart pounding. “You purposely bumped his tire, Rafe. He could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You could’ve gotten hurt too.”

“I know,” He growled, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck, fingers twitching near the fading bruises down his arm. “It just, happened.” You couldn’t believe the words coming out from his mouth. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?” Your voice broke, sharper than you intended it to. “It just happened. Like every time you flip the switch between whatever this is and pretending like I don’t exist.” He looked at you then. And for a second, you hated him for it, because he looked wrecked.

Eyes bloodshot around the edges, pain laced in the lines of his face. No smugness. No front. “You are never going to change, are you?” You whimpered, voice cracking as the weight of it all finally broke. Your throat burned as the tears you’d been holding back began to fall, hot and bitter against your cheeks. You didn’t wait for an answer. You didn’t need one. Because you already knew. “You only show up when everything around you’s falling apart. Every time I think you’re about to step up, you do the opposite,” You continued, voice wobbling but unwavering.

“You know how I feel about you. And I thought… I really thought I knew how you felt about me. Yet everything you do just makes it harder to believe any of it was real.” You shook your head, more tears falling, more rage rising. “I deserve better than this,” You declared fiercely, though the tremor in your hands betrayed you. “You act like I’m someone you need, and then treat me like I’m disposable the second things get too real. I’ve been patient, but I’m done waiting for you to figure out how to care about someone without setting them on fire first.”

You swiped your cheek roughly, trying to ground yourself, but the trembling only got worse. “I’m not your therapist. I’m not your outlet. I’m not a punching bag for when you hate the person you’ve become.” You paused, just long enough to gather the last of your strength. “I deserve something real, Rafe,” You muttered, softer now. “Or nothing at all.” You looked up at him, fully, everything laid bare in your expression. “So what is it?” You asked, voice sharp again.

“What was so important that you had to pull me aside for? Or was this just another one of your half-assed attempts to mark your territory like I’m some thing you own?” Your heart thundered as you stepped back, your final words slicing the space between you. “I’m not yours. And you’re not mine. Not like this. So either find the balls to tell me how you really feel, or leave me the hell alone once and for all.” And still, he said nothing. Not a word. Not even a breath. His silence settled over the dock like fog, thick, suffocating.

You felt it in your chest, in your spine, in the way your legs suddenly wanted to give out. You stared at him, pleading, just for something. But there was only silence. And maybe, you thought, that was the answer. Maybe it always had been. Maybe you just had been to blinded to see what was right in front of you. Making the decision for him, you turned to leave, heart pounding so hard you felt nauseous, as your feet moved on instinct, away from him, away from everything.

But his voice cut through the noise in your head, sharp and sudden. “I love you.” You froze mid-step. Those three words. So quiet. So simple. So devastatingly late. You didn’t turn around. You just stood there, eyes wide, body suspended like the breath caught in your lungs. Because those words, they were everything you’d wanted, and everything you could no longer afford to believe. “I know I’ve been absolute shit at showing you how I feel.” You could hear his footsteps now, cautious, like he didn’t know if he was walking into forgiveness or finality.

“It’s just…” He trailed off, and you could picture him, rubbing the back of his neck, biting at the inside of his cheek like he always did when his mind spiraled. “I didn’t know how else to tell you.”His breath hitched. “I thought maybe if I pissed you off enough, you’d hate me. And that would be easier.” You looked over your shoulder, not daring to meet his eyes fully. Just enough to see the shake in his stance. His fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

His buzzed hair was damp with sweat, forehead creased in a way that looked older than he was.“You deserve the world, Y/N,” He declared, voice low and raw. “And I’m a selfish bastard. I took you for granted. Over and over again. And even while I was doing it, I knew, I knew the only thing I really wanted was you.” He ran a hand across his face, like he was trying to physically wipe the guilt away. “But I was scared. I am scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do. I hurt people. I keep people away before they can see the parts of me I can’t even stand to look at.” There was a tremble in his voice now.

“Y/N,” He whispered your name like a prayer. “I love you so fucking much it terrifies me.” Your eyes slammed shut. The tears came again, quieter this time. Slower. Your body gave the faintest shudder, as if every emotion you had tried to suppress was clawing its way back up to the surface. Behind you, he stepped closer. Only a few feet away now.“If you give me a chance,” He pleaded, softer now, “I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I’ll show you that you were never a placeholder. You’ve always been the thing I’ve wanted most, the only thing.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it wasn’t empty. It was full. Full of grief. Full of longing. Full of everything neither of you had said until now. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs, and you weren’t sure if it was from heartbreak or hope. You could feel his eyes on you. The way he held his breath. Waiting. After a few seconds, not being able to stand the silence swallowing the space between you, Rafe closed the distance. His movements were hesitant, cautious, like he was afraid one wrong breath might send you running.

The waves behind you crashed louder now, as if even the ocean was holding its breath. He stepped in front of you slowly, forcing your gaze up. “Please, baby…” He whispered, voice frayed at the edges. It broke something in you. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Rafe Cameron didn’t beg. But now, he stood before you, shoulders hunched, eyes glassy, desperation bleeding into every line of his face. Then he did something you never could’ve predicted. He dropped to his knees. Your breath caught. You blinked, not quite believing it.

His frame folding to the ground in front of you, pride left somewhere far behind on the dock. His hands reached up, trembling slightly, as if asking for permission before he even touched you. You didn't move. Not yet. Your heart thudded in your chest, thunderous and confused. His fingers brushed yours, featherlight. And then he took your hands in his, gently, like holding something he’d already broken once and didn’t dare risk dropping again. “I’m sorry for everything,” He choked out, head lowered, voice cracking around the apology. Tears spilled freely now, not just yours.

His too. His chest heaved with them, quiet and broken as they came. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” He whispered, his thumbs brushing the backs of your hands like they were trying to erase the pain he’d left behind. “Every time I look at you I feel like I’m watching something I’ll never deserve… but I still want to be better, for you. Because you loved me even when I gave you nothing.” You swallowed hard, throat raw. And still, he didn’t rise. Rafe stayed there, knees on splintered wood, forehead nearly pressed to your joined hands.

Not as a performance. Not to manipulate. But because he didn’t know any other way to show you how completely he'd fallen apart. “I’m scared of who I am without you,” He admitted softly, shame pouring out between each syllable. “But I’m more scared of who I’ve become with you thinking I don’t care.” You didn’t realize you were crying until your tears hit the tops of his knuckles. He felt them. And his grip tightened just slightly, like he knew he’d struck something deep, and couldn’t let go. For the first time, maybe ever, there was no mask.

No bravado. No storm of chaos cloaking his words. Just Rafe. Unarmored. On his knees. Apologizing not because he wanted to be forgiven, but because he needed you to know that he finally understood the cost of loving without care. And he had never wanted anything more than to try again. This time the right way. If you let him. Something in you cracked. Maybe it was the way he said your name. Or maybe it was the sight of him, Rafe Cameron, down on his knees, pride shattered, hands trembling as he reached for you.

Or maybe it was the grief behind his tears, grief for the damage he caused, and for the possibility he’d lost you for good. But instead of falling with him, you reached out. Your fingers curled around his, gentle but firm, like an anchor. He looked up at you with wide eyes, the kind of vulnerability you never thought he’d be capable of showing. There was no mask now. No biting smirk. Just the boy underneath it all, the one who had been quietly begging you to see him, even when he was doing everything to push you away.

You didn’t kneel. You pulled him up. Slowly, like gravity was fighting it, like every inch closer to you was some kind of redemption. He stood unevenly, breath shallow, blinking like he didn’t know what would happen next. He towered just slightly over you now, body stiff, afraid to touch you, waiting. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Because the moment his eyes met yours, everything inside of you exploded. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you kissed him.

You surged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and crashing your lips into his like it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. The kiss was messy, desperate, teeth knocking and breaths stolen. His hands found your face almost too quickly, like he’d been dreaming of this moment and memorizing how to hold you. It wasn’t gentle. It was full of rage, of pain, of longing. Of everything you never got to say. It was an apology and a confession and a scream all in one.

It was grief meeting grief, and choosing not to be alone anymore. He kissed you like he was starving. Like this was the only thing that could make the noise in his head go quiet. His mouth moved against yours in a way that was both familiar and new, like something he’d craved for so long but never believed he deserved. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself fall. Fall into him. Into this. Into the chaos of what the two of you were. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Foreheads pressed together. Hands still gripping fabric like you might drift apart if you let go.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, over the tears neither of you had noticed were still falling. “Still think I don’t mean it?” He whispered, voice hoarse and shaking. Your eyes didn’t leave his. Not when he leaned in. Not when his breath ghosted over your lips. Not even when the ache in your chest threatened to cave you in completely. You let the silence stretch between you, thick and intimate before your fingers slipped up the front of his shirt again, tugging him closer. A quiet shrug left your shoulders, a smirk ghosting over your kiss-bitten lips.

“Would it be so bad if I wanted to see you grovel a little bit more?” You murmured, voice low, teasing, but there was no venom in it. Just warmth. A flicker of hope laced in exhaustion. He huffed a soft laugh, the first real one you'd heard from him in what felt like forever, and you felt it, the way it vibrated through his chest, into yours. His nose nudged against yours, slow and tender, grounding you in the closeness. “Nah, baby,” He whispered, voice gravel and saccharine, lips brushing yours again but not quite kissing you.

“Believe me, I intend to do that and a lot more. If you’ll let me.” Your heart clenched, hard. Because you’d never seen him like this. Unarmored. Unfiltered. Saying the things you used to dream about when the nights were long and he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t asking for permission to make things perfect, he was asking for a chance. A real one. And something in you, despite every bruise, every crack, wanted to believe him. Your fingers slid up, into the short strands of his buzzed hair, your touch soft but unyielding.

“Then don’t just say it,” You breathed, brushing your lips over his again. “Prove it.” This time, the kiss came slower. Deeper. No frenzy. No anger. Just the press of two people trying to fit years of ache into one breath. You felt the way his hands gripped your waist, not possessive, but reverent. Like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers again. Like he wanted to memorize the way you felt, just in case this was all a dream. You pressed into him, and he met you there, without hesitation, without fear, just need. Pure, aching, desperate need.

The kiss deepened quickly, turning from tentative to hungry, from apology to confession. Your mouths moved in sync, familiar and foreign all at once, like muscle memory coming alive after years of being dormant. His hands found your waist again, sliding around your back, fingers splaying across the small of it like he was trying to hold all of you at once, trying to ground himself in the one thing he could never get right but couldn’t bear to let go of. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush now.

His breath shuddering as your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, scraping lightly at his scalp. He groaned into your mouth, a sound that made your stomach twist and your heart race. You felt his vulnerability in every movement, the way he kissed you like he thought it might be the last time, the way he whispered your name against your lips like a lifeline. You kissed him like every second apart had left a hollow in your chest only he could fill.

And maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe it wasn’t smart, but in that moment, it was real. Your lips slowed eventually, but didn’t break. You lingered there, breathing each other in. He rested his forehead against yours again, and you could feel how hard his heart was beating, you could feel how yours echoing the same chaotic rhythm. “I missed you so much,” He whispered against your mouth, his voice breaking with the weight of it.

“Even when I was being the worst version of myself… I missed you. And now I’m never letting you go. Not again.” You didn’t reply. You just kissed him again, softer this time, slower. But no less sure. And when you pulled back, lips swollen, eyes glassy, hands still clutching his shirt like he might disappear, you realized something. You were kissing the boy who came back, broken, terrified, begging for a second chance, and maybe, just maybe, you were ready to let him try.

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

557 notes · View notes

revlw · 2 months ago

Note

The way I rushed to your requests when I found out they were open😭 your writing made me giggle and kick my feet you are SO talented

Anyways! Can I please request (if it’s okay with you) a Yandere team-up with Chance and Elliot (forsaken)? They’re both head over heels for the reader and so they decide to work together..

Headcanons are fine!! Make sure to drink lots of water and take care of yourself!!

𓏵 LUCKY STRIKE

YAN! PAYCHECK X READER

Warning ! : Obsessive behavior , yandere themes , manipulation , possesive dynamics , mild stalking elements , potential gaslighting

Note ! : AAAAAA TYSM !!!! this means a lot to me truly! And I think Im KINDA bad ab headcanons so so its kinda a one shot???….,,,, I HOPE U LIKE IT!!! Art : @/fishumlem on X

Chance notices you first, but not in any dramatic way. He sees the way you hesitate near the fire, uncertain. The way you laugh too quickly when someone jokes, trying to fit in.

He likes that you don’t yet know the game. People like that are interesting. Predictable in some ways—naive—but also capable of surprising him. And Chance loves surprises.

He starts approaching you slowly. Playfully. Nothing alarming.

“You know, you keep standing by that tree like you’re expecting it to save you from a killer.”

You laugh. It’s easy to laugh around him. He makes it easy.

Elliot notices too. Not your laugh, not your smile—your fear. The way your hands tremble just slightly when you hear the killer’s scream. The way you fumble with a generator. The way you linger near others for safety.

He doesn’t say anything to you. He just… starts watching.

At first, he’s near you by accident. Or at least, that’s what it looks like.

You blow a generator? Elliot’s already nearby to cover for you.

Get knocked down? He’s the first to pick you up, silent, efficient.

You thank him. He nods once.

He doesn’t ask for anything in return.

Not yet.

It’s subtle.

Chance starts treating you like a game. Not a cruel one—but a test. A series of probabilities and risks. He bets you small things:

“Want me to boost you to that ledge? Let’s flip for it. But if I win, you owe me a secret.”

“Heads, we take the long way. Tails, we sneak past the killer.”

You laugh, roll your eyes. But you play along. It becomes habit.

He always seems to win, somehow.

Elliot, meanwhile, watches who you talk to. Watches how you smile at certain survivors. Watches when you flinch. He doesn’t say anything when you start trusting Chance more—but he watches him, too.

He starts intervening. Slightly.

That one round when you and Chance are paired together? Elliot joins too. He doesn’t speak, but he’s always just there, between you and a threat. Or between you and Chance.

They begin to notice each other.

At first, Chance thinks Elliot is just… hovering. A protective type. He finds it amusing.

“Silent knight,” he jokes to you once. “Pretty sure he’d throw himself in front of a trap for you.”

You glance at Elliot. He doesn’t deny it. Just tilts his head, quiet. Still watching.

Chance narrows his eyes. It’s not funny anymore.

Elliot doesn’t like how Chance makes you laugh. He doesn’t like how close he stands to you, how his voice drops when you’re alone together.

But Elliot is patient. He doesn’t act on impulse.

He waits. Watches. Calculates.

The Shift.

It’s during a brutal round—Jason, maybe, or c00lkidd. You get separated. Alone, bleeding, hiding behind a rock.

They both find you at the same time.

Chance crouches beside you, all charm, coaxing words:

“Hey, hey, easy. You’re alright. Just a scratch. Let me help, yeah?”

Elliot is silent, but his hands are already pulling out a medkit. His expression is unreadable, his eyes locked on him—not you.

Chance smirks.

“Oh, sure. You can patch her up if you want. I’ll just hold her still.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You smile, nervously. Neither of them does.

They both fix you. Carefully. Silently. But the air between them is sharp.

From that moment, something changes.

They don’t argue anymore. They start working together.

Chance engages you with warmth and wit. Elliot handles logistics—watching your back, offering tools, helping you silently.

You barely get time alone. Not because they’re obvious, but because they’re coordinated.

One distracts while the other circles in. One keeps you smiling, the other keeps you safe.

And slowly, the others fall away.

Survivors avoid you—either pushed out, subtly sabotaged, or scared off. You never notice the pattern.

But soon, it’s just you and them. Always.

Chance manipulates the social side of things. He always has an excuse to talk to you.

“Hey, come with me. Safer in pairs, right?”

He makes you feel like choosing him is your idea.

He studies you like a strategist studies the board—tracking your fears, your preferences, even how fast your heart beats when he leans close.

If you ever question why people avoid you now, he shrugs with a smile.

“Maybe they’re jealous. I mean, you’ve got two of the best keeping you safe. Who wouldn’t be?”

Elliot doesn’t try to win you over with charm. He builds a quiet, unshakable presence in your life.

You fall, he’s there. You’re in danger, he’s already moving. You cry, he passes you a handkerchief without a word.

He starts taking things from you—not objects, but choices.

You don’t need to fix that generator. He already did it.

You don’t need to ask for help. He’s already beside you.

He never pressures you. But he’s always watching. Always waiting.

And over time, you start to rely on him. You trust him.

That’s all he ever wanted.

They talk when you’re not around. Quiet, tense meetings.

“They looked tired today.”

“I’ll handle it. You just keep them entertained.”

They don’t like each other. Not really.

But their shared obsession keeps them in orbit. And if either one of them ever steps out of line, the other is watching.

Because in the end, their goal is the same:

Keep you safe. Keep you close. Keep you theirs.

@revlw 2025

#𓉸ྀི𝑹𝑬𝑽𝑳𝑾 #forsaken x y/n #forsaken x oc #forsaken x you #forsaken x reader #forsaken #chance x reader #elliot x reader #paycheck #roblox #01

478 notes · View notes

imbecominggayer · 7 months ago

Text

Writing Advice: How To Add Forshadowing

Forshadowing is an excellent writing tool in your writing arsenal that allows you to look incredibly smart while simultaneously slapping your audience in the face with the realization that the answer was in front of them this whole time!

For @melda0m3, I'm going to be giving you some broad strokes about to add forshadowing into your stories

I'm going to hope you understand what forshadowing is but if you don't then: Forshadowing is a suggestion but not outright prediction of future reveals and events

A) Work Backwards

A lot of people say to add forshadowing after the chapter/book is written but before you post it since then you can go back and organically add in those small details that make you seem like a genious without accidentally pulling the curtain too far back.

I recommend a combination of both. Write from the belly of a character, if you will. Let them naturally guide their proclivities and then try to paper them over.

For example, Character A is trying to pretent that they were born into wealth but they weren't. Their natural tendency is to side with the underdog. To tip the waiter a normal amount. To do average not-rich shit. Having Character A accidentally be a normal person and then disguise this as a mistake or an expression of empathy/intelligence/stupidity what have you can serve as forshadowing.

By putting forshadowing in at a later point or as an organic development that you run past like it's just background information allows you to steer your audience away from the true purpose of that information.

B) It's Just A Little Off

This mostly applies to situations where a character is trying to pretend to be something they aren't.

A neglectful mother grabs her child just a bit too hard to be normal.

A previously cowardly character is suddenly taking the lead

A seemingly innocuous woman knows her way around the house a bit too well

A previously good person starts suggesting things that have a tendency of backfiring on the rest of the cast

It's pretty simple and I could just go on and on about different types of characters revealing that they aren't the person they are pretending to be and that they might just know more than they are letting on.

These forshadow clues might be:

An unexplained phobia that seems silly at first until the tragic backstory behind it is revealed

A beautiful piece of jewlery sitting on a petty thief

Hypocritical behavior

A random moment that seems out of character

#writing #on writing #writeblr #creative writing #writing advice #writers on tumblr #fiction writing #writers #writer #writers block #writerscommunity #writers and poets #forshadowing #how to write

915 notes · View notes

barnacles34 · 7 months ago

Text

Steamy Mornings and Massages (Winter x Male OC)

7k words

Tags: smut, fluff, office sex, office massage, soulmates, romance, very love-heavy

Chapter 1: The Day After

"Let's just stay here," Minjeong murmured, pressing soft kisses to the crown of Junho's head. The morning alarm had shattered what his typically precise mind had categorized as Optimal Comfort Configuration™, but neither of them had moved to silence it[1].

His face remained buried in the crook of her neck, accepting what his mind reluctantly acknowledged as the only form of comfort he'd ever truly wanted. "Well, my secretary," he rumbled against her skin, the possessive pronoun carrying new weight in the morning light, "on a very important day, doesn't want to go to work?" Despite his words, his arms tightened incrementally around her waist, betraying his own reluctance.

Minjeong's embrace constricted in response, her Busan accent thick with morning warmth. "What are you going to do? Fire me?" Despite the implied challenge, she still continued to press soft kisses on his forehead. He tightened his embrace further, relishing in the warmth of Minjeong.

The challenge in her voice activated something primal in his executive functioning. His teeth grazed her neck in warning, hovering over precisely the spot that would make any low-necked blouse useless to wear for the following days. "Maybe," he murmured, his hand sliding to the small of her back with deliberate intent, dangerously close to the curve of her backside, "I'll fire you and keep you here, all day long, so that you belong only to me."

"That's..." her breath hitched as his hand dropped lower, "...rather unprofessional of you."

He lifted his head just enough to fix her with that boardroom stare that never failed to make her pulse race. "Says the woman currently preventing her CEO from attending his meetings." Her CEO? Something warm raced inside of her—she thought, her ceo? And this time, she wrapped her arms tighter—however much her thin arms could tighten; nevertheless, an affectionate hug.

"I prefer to think of it as optimizing your morning routine," she countered, though her professional efficiency was somewhat undermined by the way she melted under his touch, furthermore when he traced the curves of her backside. "Some things are more important than the Zhang Corp merger."

His laugh vibrated against her throat. "Careful, Secretary Kim. That sounds dangerously close to insubordination."

"And what does the CEO do with insubordinate employees?" The question emerged soft and weaker than intended as his mouth traced a deliberate path along her collar, trying her most obnoxiously.

"That depends," he murmured, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made her breath catch. "Are they all as beautiful as you when they disobey direct orders?"

She attempted to maintain her composure, though her hands betrayed her by pulling him closer. "I wouldn't know. I've never seen you like this with other employees[2]."

"No," he agreed, suddenly serious as he raised his head to meet her gaze. "You haven't. You won't."

The intensity in his eyes made her throat tight. "Promise?"

Instead of answering, he caught her mouth in a kiss that effectively ended all discussion of work protocols and proper business conduct[3]. The morning sun painted complex equations of light across their entangled forms, but for once, neither of them was counting the minutes.

—

[1] The first recorded instance of CEO Kim's morning alarm continuing past its initial 0.3-second alert phase, a fact that would require significant updates to the home automation system's behavioral prediction models.

[2] The security system's emotion recognition protocols flagged this moment for what its algorithms could only classify as "Unprecedented Display of Executive Vulnerability."

[3] Later analysis would suggest that certain forms of insubordination yielded surprisingly positive results in terms of overall company morale, though these findings were kept strictly off the official record.

—

"You haven't eaten properly in days," Minjeong observed softly, her fingers tracing the subtle tension in his shoulders that most wouldn't notice. But she wasn't most people—she'd spent months learning to read the microscopic signs of his stress levels[4].

"I've been eating," he defended, though his attempt at authority was somewhat undermined by the way he instinctively relaxed under her touch.

"Coffee and quarterly reports don't count as meals," she countered, continuing her gentle exploration of his shoulder muscles. "I've watched you skip lunch three times this week alone."

He lifted his head to study her face, finding that mix of strength and tenderness that had first undone him. "You keep track of my meals?"

"I keep track of everything about you," she admitted, not backing down from his intense gaze. "Someone has to notice when you forget to take care of yourself."

His hand curved around the nape of her neck, thumb brushing her pulse point. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"

"Consider it an extension of my secretarial duties," she murmured, then gasped softly as he tightened his grip in warning.

"There's nothing secretarial about the way you take care of me," he corrected, voice low and dangerous. "Is there, Minjeong-ah?"

The informal address, rarely used, made her breath catch. "No," she agreed quietly. "There isn't."

He studied her for a long moment, his analytical mind cataloging the flush in her cheeks, the slight quickening of her breath, the way she yielded to his touch while somehow maintaining that core of quiet strength[5]. "You're dangerous," he finally said, “dangerously beautiful, so beautiful,” then a kiss on the side of her neck which, eventually, will turn into a hickey and Minjeong hadn’t the power to resist her CEO’s advances anymore.

"Me?" She replied, out of breath, tremored, brilliantly transformed by her smile—the type of smile men fight wars for, the type of smile sinewy sociopathic CEOs would drop down for. "I'm just trying to make sure Korea's most brilliant CEO—I mean, my CEO, remembers to eat breakfast." Her small hand collected the waves of his hair, the aroma of the shampoo she recommended wafted in the air.

“Minjeong, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Is that a problem?” She pulled back her hand along his scalp, gathering hair, then trailing all down his nape, to his back: the type of affection that says, even if you were insane, I’d still be crazy about you.

Instead of answering directly, he pressed his lips to her forehead, then her temple, then the corner of her mouth—a calculated sequence of kisses that made her melt further into his embrace. "The only problem," he murmured against her skin, "is that you're making it very difficult to want to leave this bed."

—

[4] Her observation logs, never shared but meticulously maintained, included such details as the precise angle of his jaw when overwhelmed, the subtle shift in his typing rhythm when stressed, and the exact tone of voice that meant he'd skipped meals.

[5] The home automation system's behavioral analysis protocols struggled to categorize this new dynamic, where authority and surrender seemed to flow both ways simultaneously.

—

"Three days," Minjeong continued, her fingers finding the knots in his shoulders with practiced ease. "You've had that tension here since the Singapore deal started falling apart." The morning light caught the subtle furrow in his brow as he processed her words, realizing she'd been tracking his stress levels without him noticing. Her touch was methodical yet tender, each pressure point targeted with the same precision she applied to his scheduling.

"I didn't think anyone had noticed," he admitted, then caught her knowing smile. "Except you."

"I always notice," she replied simply. "Like how you've been drinking twice your usual coffee intake, or how your left eye twitches slightly when the board sends those passive-aggressive emails." Her hands moved lower, finding another point of tension. "You hide it well, but not from me."

He caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips. "It becomes…oddly weird when I see you do the things I usually do." The tease in his voice was softened by the way he pressed kisses to her fingertips.

"Consider it preventive maintenance," she countered, not backing down despite Junho trying to hide his habits under the rug, not backing down despite the heat in his gaze. "Someone needs to monitor your functionality levels[6]."

"Functionality levels?" His laugh rumbled against her skin as he shifted to hover over her. "Is that what we're calling this?"

"Would you prefer 'executive performance metrics'?" She managed to keep her voice steady even as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "I have spreadsheets..."

"Of course you do," he murmured, teeth grazing her collarbone in retaliation. "My perfectly thorough secretary, tracking every detail."

"Not just details," she breathed, hands sliding up his chest. "I know when you skip lunch to avoid the board members. When you stay late reviewing reports that could wait until morning. When you need..." she paused as his hand curved possessively around her hip, "...someone to remind you that you're human."

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Junho lifted his head to study her face, finding that unique blend of submission and strength that had first undone his carefully constructed defenses[7]. "And you've appointed yourself to that position?"

"Someone has to." Her smile carried traces of Busan sunshine. "Besides, I'm uniquely qualified."

"How so, Minjeong-ah?” Another tease.

“Because you love me.” Minjeong stated, matter of factly. And this time, Junho seized her tight, trapping her under him, seizing her two thin wrists. Then, pressed a deep kiss onto Minjeong’s delicate lips. After a while, he released himself from the kiss, the kiss that Minjeong reluctantly let go of—her lips pointing outwards like a duck as he left. Finally, he said, “That’s right, I love you.”

Her stomach stirred with butterflies and more.

—

[6] Her personal files, never shared but meticulously maintained, included detailed protocols for managing various levels of CEO stress responses, from subtle intervention to direct action.

[7] The exact moment of this defensive breach had been logged by the building's security systems, though the footage was classified under "Executive Privacy Protocols."

—

Minjeong lingered in bed, her heart performing calculations that had nothing to do with quarterly reports. The smart home system's sensors detected her elevated pulse rate, though no algorithm could properly quantify the joy radiating from her smile[8]. She stretched luxuriously against Egyptian cotton sheets that still held traces of his warmth, letting herself marvel at the reality of being here, in his space, surrounded by evidence of Junho.

Her mind couldn't help but catalog the endearing chaos around her—academic journals scattered across surfaces, a tablet displaying economic projections that had clearly been reviewed at 3 AM, several coffee cups in various states of abandonment. The morning light revealed what darkness and desire had hidden the night before: Junho's private space was a fascinating contradiction to his public persona, a detail she filed away with all her other precious observations of him.

Rising with practiced grace, she padded across cold hardwood floors, her bare feet gliding across the floor. His dress shirt from the previous night—the one that had hung open as they'd discovered more interesting uses for his mahogany desk—called to her like a siren song. She slipped it on, the fabric carrying traces of his unisex cologne and something uniquely him that made her stomach flutter[9].

Junho emerged from his ensuite bathroom to find her like this: drowning in his shirt, examining his space with that careful attention she brought to everything concerning him. His breath caught audibly.

"That's mine," he noted, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that never failed to make her pulse race.

She turned to face him, letting the hem of his shirt brush against her thighs. "Really? I think it’s mine."

—

[8] The home automation system logged this moment as: "Secondary User Biometrics Indicating Unprecedented Levels of Serotonin. CEO Response: Highly Favorable."

[9] Security footage would later reveal this as the exact moment CEO Kim's usually impeccable morning routine experienced a critical efficiency failure, though no one questioned why that particular shirt never made it to the dry cleaners.

—

"You know," Junho mused against her neck, his hands tracing idle patterns on her thighs, "for someone so concerned about my eating habits, you're being very distracting in my kitchen."

"Me?" Minjeong's attempt at innocence was undermined by the way her fingers kept playing with his hair. "I'm trying to feed you."

"Wearing my shirt. Sitting on my counter." His smile carried equal parts mischief and heat as he pulled back to look at her. "I'm starting to think this is corporate sabotage, Secretary Kim."

She tried to maintain her professional expression, though her lips twitched. "I would never compromise company productivity, 사장님."

"No?" He raised an eyebrow, fingers sliding deliberately higher under his shirt. "Then explain why Korea's most efficient CEO is currently contemplating skipping his 9 AM."

"Poor executive guidance?" she suggested, then squeaked as he nipped her earlobe in retaliation. "I mean... clearly you need better supervision."

"Is that your professional opinion?" His laugh was warm against her skin. "And I suppose you're volunteering for the position?"

"Well," she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging gently, "I do have extensive experience in handling difficult executives."

He lifted his head, eyes dancing. "Difficult?"

"Demanding," she amended, then added with deliberate sweetness, "High-maintenance?"

"You," he declared, catching her wrists and pinning them behind her back with one hand, "are getting dangerously bold with your performance reviews[12]."

Her answering smile was pure sunshine. "Does that mean I'm not getting that raise?"

"Oh, I'll give you a raise," he promised, his free hand sliding up her spine as he pressed closer. "Right after we discuss your insubordination."

"I have a presentation prepared," she managed, though her breath hitched as his mouth found that sensitive spot behind her ear. "Complete with charts on CEO stubbornness metrics..."

"Using company resources for personal research?" His mock disapproval was somewhat undermined by the way he couldn't stop smiling against her skin. "That's a serious violation of corporate policy."

"And what's the penalty for that?" She arched into his touch, shameless. "More overtime with my boss?"

"Definitely." He captured her mouth in a kiss that tasted like laughter and promise. "Starting now[13]."

—

[12] The home automation system registered this interaction as a significant deviation from standard performance review protocols, though it noted remarkable improvements in overall satisfaction metrics.

[13] Later analysis of the kitchen's usage patterns would reveal this as the morning the coffee maker recorded its latest ever first brew, a delay that would become surprisingly routine.

—

"We're going to be late," Minjeong observed, though she made no move to leave her perch on the counter as Junho's hands mapped new territories beneath his borrowed shirt. The morning sun painted gold across his shoulders, and she couldn't resist tracing the light with her fingers.

"Concerned about punctuality now?" His smile was wicked against her collar. "After deliberately sabotaging your CEO's morning routine?"

"I would never," she protested, then gasped as his teeth found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I'm simply... optimizing your schedule."

"Is that what we're calling it?" His laugh vibrated through both their bodies as he pressed closer, effectively trapping her against the granite. "And how does this particular optimization benefit the company?"

Her fingers curled into his hair as his mouth traced a deliberate path down her throat. "Improved executive mood... increased satisfaction metrics... better work-life balance..."

"Very thorough analysis," he approved, his hand sliding higher up her thigh. "Though I think we need more data points[14]."

"준호야..." Her professional composure cracked entirely as his fingers found bare skin. "The Zhang Corp meeting..."

"Can wait." He lifted his head to meet her gaze, his smile carrying that perfect blend of authority and affection that never failed to undo her. "I'm conducting important research."

"On what?" She managed to arch an eyebrow despite her rapidly dissolving coherence. "How to make your secretary lose her mind?"

"Girlfriend," he corrected, voice dropping to that dangerous register as his thumb traced patterns on her inner thigh. "And I believe we were discussing your performance review[15]."

Jun abruptly stopped their performance review midway because the deal was on the line and time was running short. Minjeong was reminded of this painfully by how Jun pulled away from the kiss—she was pouty about it until they reached the office, when her damascus-like resolve kicks in.

—

[14] The kitchen's environmental sensors registered multiple instances of what could only be classified as "Critical Protocol Deviations," though these readings were automatically archived under "Executive Privacy Settings."

[15] HR would later note a curious correlation between the CEO's improved mood and these new "morning performance evaluations," though no one dared to investigate further.

—

Chapter 2: The Meeting

The Zhang Corp representatives sat across the mahogany conference table, their expressions carefully neutral as they reviewed the merger proposals. Minjeong maintained her perfect professional facade, though her pulse quickened every time Junho's hand brushed hers as she passed him documents[1].

"The third quarter projections," she murmured, leaning close enough that his cologne made her thoughts stray to their morning activities. His finger tapped twice against the paper—their private signal that he needed a moment to compose himself.

"As you can see," Junho addressed the room with that commanding presence that made board members squirm, though Minjeong could detect the slight roughness in his voice that hadn't been there before their morning 'delay', "our integration timeline is aggressive but achievable."

She took her seat beside him, crossing her legs in a way that made his pen pause fractionally on the contract. Two could play at this game of professional torture. His response was to rest his hand on her thigh under the table, hidden from view but commanding enough to make her breath catch[2].

"Secretary Kim," he said smoothly, his thumb tracing dangerous patterns against her skin, "would you pull up the logistics breakdown?"

"Of course, 사장님." She managed to keep her voice steady as she reached for her tablet, though her free hand found his wrist under the table, her fingers curling around it in what could have been either submission or warning.

The meeting proceeded with perfect corporate efficiency, though the undercurrent of tension between CEO and secretary created what the room's environmental sensors could only classify as "Critical Atmospheric Pressure"[3].

—

[1] The conference room's biometric scanners noted elevated heart rates in both CEO and secretary, though this data was diplomatically omitted from official meeting records.

[2] Security footage would later require careful editing to maintain professional appearances, particularly regarding certain "under-table activities."

[3] The Zhang Corp representatives would later confess to the fact that they could tell what was happening, no amount of demure leg-crossing could hide it. Though, they ignored it in order to get that deal (which was integral to them).

—

The private office door clicked shut behind them, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across imported marble floors. Junho rolled his shoulders, tension evident in his posture despite the meeting's success[4].

"Come here," Minjeong said softly, recognizing the signs of his post-negotiation stress. She guided him to his leather chair, her hands already moving to his shoulders. "You get so tense during these meetings." Instead of standing behind him and the chair, she stood in front, impending a mount to get ‘better access’ to his shoulders.

"Keeping my hands to myself requires considerable effort," he admitted, then groaned softly as her fingers found a particularly tight knot. "Especially when you keep giving me those looks."

"What looks?" Her innocent tone was betrayed by the way her hands slid lower, tracing patterns down his upper chest. "I was being perfectly professional."

He caught her wrist, tugging her to face him. "Professional? Is that what you call that thing you did with your pen?"

"Taking notes?" She smiled down at him, letting her fingers trail along his tie. "I'm very thorough in my documentation."

"Very thorough," he agreed, pulling her into his lap with practiced ease. "Though I noticed some interesting gaps in the meeting minutes."

"Oh?" Her hands returned to his shoulders, kneading the tension even as she shifted closer. "Like what?"

"Like how many times you deliberately brushed against me," his voice dropped lower as her fingers worked their magic, "or how your skirt kept riding up when you reached for files[5]."

"Maybe," she breathed, her ministrations becoming less therapeutic and more intentional, "your secretary just needs better supervision."

His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Is that what you need, Secretary Kim?"

Instead of answering, she pressed a kiss to that spot below his ear that always made him growl. His hands tightened on her hips in warning, but she didn't stop her exploration of his neck, her fingers still working the tension from his shoulders even as she created a different kind of pressure entirely.

"The door," he managed, though his hands were already sliding under her blouse.

"Locked," she murmured against his skin. "I'm very efficient."

"My perfect secretary," he agreed.

—

[4] The office's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Post-Meeting Stress Relief Protocol: Executive Override Engaged."

[5] The meeting's official minutes would maintain strict professional standards, though certain observations were kept in much more private records.

—

"You're still tense," Minjeong observed, her fingers tracing new patterns down his spine. The afternoon light painted gold across his desk, where various merger documents lay forgotten. "Let me take care of you properly."

She slid from his lap, moving behind his chair with practiced grace. Her hands returned to his shoulders, this time with more purposeful intent. Junho's head fell back as she worked a particularly tight knot, a sound escaping him that had nothing to do with professional conduct[7].

"That noise," she murmured, leaning close enough that her breath teased his ear, "is definitely not going in the meeting minutes."

His laugh turned into another groan as her thumbs hit a sensitive spot. "Keeping secrets from the board, Secretary Kim?"

"Only the interesting ones," she admitted, her hands sliding lower, tracing the muscles of his back through his expensive shirt. "Like how my very commanding CEO turns to putty when I do this..."

His hand shot up to catch her wrist in warning. "Careful," his voice carried that dangerous edge that made her stomach flip. "You're getting bold with your observations."

"Just maintaining detailed records," she breathed, not backing down despite his grip. "For example, when I press here..." Her free hand found another knot, making him inhale sharply. "Your left eye twitches slightly. And when I do this..." She leaned forward, letting her lips brush his neck. "Your pulse jumps exactly like it did during the merger talks[8]."

The chair spun suddenly, Junho pulling her back into his lap with decisive force. "You," he growled, hands spanning her waist, "are playing a dangerous game."

Her smile was pure innocence, though her fingers were already working his tie loose. "I'm simply being thorough in my duties, 사장님."

"Your duties," he repeated, watching her with dark amusement as she stripped his tie with expert efficiency. "Is that what we're calling this?"

"Would you prefer 'executive stress relief'?" She gasped as his teeth found her collar. "Or maybe 'personnel management'?"

His laugh vibrated against her skin. "I prefer," he murmured, hands sliding deliberately up her thighs, "when you stop talking altogether[9]."

—

[7] The office's audio sensors temporarily malfunctioned during this period, a technical glitch that occurred with suspicious regularity during certain "private meetings."

[8] Her personal files contained extensive documentation of CEO behavioral patterns, though certain observations were encrypted under "Private Research: Ongoing."

[9] The afternoon's remaining meetings would require creative rescheduling, though no one questioned why the CEO's mood had improved so dramatically.

—

"You missed a spot," Minjeong murmured against his mouth, her fingers finding another knot of tension in his shoulders even as she shifted closer in his lap. The leather chair creaked softly beneath them, a sound that would forever carry new associations in both their minds[10].

"Did I?" His hands slid higher beneath her skirt, mapping territories that were becoming dangerously familiar for office hours. "Or are you just making excuses to keep touching your CEO?"

She pulled back just enough to give him that look—the one that somehow managed to be both defiant and yielding. "I take my responsibilities very seriously, 사장님."

"I've noticed," he growled, catching her wrist as she tried to maintain the pretense of massage. "Like how seriously you took those meeting notes earlier. Very... thorough."

Her laugh caught in her throat as his lips found that sensitive spot below her ear. "I was documenting important observations."

"Such as?" His teeth grazed her pulse point, making her grip his shoulders for balance.

"Such as," she managed, though her professional tone wavered as his hands grew bolder, "how the great Kim Junho gets distracted when I cross my legs. How your voice drops exactly half an octave when you're trying not to react to me. How you tap your pen twice when you're thinking about—"

He silenced her with a kiss that effectively derailed all attempts at analysis[11]. When he finally pulled back, her dazed expression made him smirk. "Any other observations to record, Secretary Kim?"

“I must’ve forgotten, I usually remember better when you kiss me.” She hinted, and he obliged, letting his lips connect yet again with Minjeong. This time, the endless teasing reached a breaking point that both of them coalesced to at the same time.

He tightly grasped her backside then pulled her up from the executive chair to the executive table. Wherein, she was splayed across the wide table. “We really have to ban tables when we’re around each other.” She joked.

“That’d be a terrible idea.”

“How so?”

“Where else could I splay you across like this, then explore you, centimeter-by-centimeter?”

“Hmm…” she hummed, pleased, "Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“Then come here, my ceo.”

“My beautiful secretary, whatever shall I do with you?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you find out?” She pulled as tight as she could, locking her arms around his neck.

He obliged, meeting lips with her once again. He felt the softness of her face as he explored deeper into the kiss, forgetting time and everything except what was being shared between them. Journeying his hands further, entangling it into the silken strands of his lover as he deepened the kiss, and she replied with a deep sigh—trembling with a mix of her high register.

“You’re such a good woman for me, Minjeong.” He said before nipping at her lower lip, catching it softly between his teeth with a teasing tug, Minjeong let out a breathless laugh, “you’re devouring me, Junho.” Regardless, he dug deeper, letting his entire body shift into Minjeong’s malleable, petite body—letting his hand explore more of her silken strands, almost saying, yes Minjeong, that is my purpose: to devour you.

Now, instead of every 5 seconds, Minjeong’s soft moans that only served to goad Junho on were musically released into his ears every second. Precautiously, she asked, “how good is the soundproofing in your private room-ah!”

“Not good enough to hide your moans, dear.” He replied, his voice like rough gravel. Her eyes widened suddenly from the need to hide her moans. Yet he dug deeper, letting his loin rub against her wet bottom, daring her moan out loud.

Despite all the regulations, the possible condemnation, their passions only grew more. Mouths moving in sync, gazes meeting momentarily, it wasn’t just kissing anymore—it was a language. The type of language where Minjeong coalesced to his dangerous games and learned to enjoy it, almost as much as him.

“Junho, seriously, I don’t want to be seen as-”

“Minjeong-ah, I don’t give a single fuck if my employees hear you and I.” The teeth that so brazenly tugged on her lower lips trailed down her neck, tracing the soft tendons.

Whispering, in a verbose way, “And as you are my secretary, my extension, my life-line, you’ll follow. Me.” And as Minjeong was getting battered by the gravel-slung voice of Junho—she hadn’t noticed how her blouse was opened, bra pushed down to reveal the breasts that he was so infatuated with—only until she felt the torsion of her nipple.

“Ngh!”

“I love that, Minjeong, scream out. I’ll fuck you until the entire floor hears you call my name.”

And another wet mewl that inspired his further deviance.

Feeling the soft suction of his mouth on her neck, she deduced that it could only mean one thing: another hickey just placed above the collar of her blouse, the same sort of hickey that the Zhang corp executives couldn’t keep their eyes off of—any justification in their minds that it was a skin discoloration was debilitated by how intensely Minjeong and Junho shared those deadly glances, likely to jump on each other as soon as they left—and they were right.

“Junho—ngh!”

“Louder.” He replied, testing her, “fucking. Louder.” Then he pressed deeper, grinding his rough textured pants on the creamy soft bottom of Minjeong.

“Please Junho, seriously.” Was all that she could get out of her bated breaths, her deep moans.

Then suddenly, he stopped, caressing the softness of her cheeks with his, back-handed, knuckles.

“You look so beautiful when you’re all tired and exhausted, did I tell you that before?” Letting the tune of his voice marinate with Minjeong (who was recovering from how hot and bothered she was just a second ago).

However good his intentions were, he wasn’t perfect. The way Minjeong’s body looked splayed against the messy paperwork, her blonde hair all frizzy and stuck to the desk, how her chest went in-and-out catching all the breath she lost—all of it made it impossible for him to resist anymore.

He pounced on her again, connecting lips against her wet, trembling lips that nonetheless accepted him so openly, like a warm cup of milk tea on a winter morning. That momentary pause had changed everything, Minjeong—now fully conquered by him—was begging for that penetrative action that he would give out so liberally to her.

“Naughty woman, bad secretary, what else?”

“Junho’s toy.”

“Fuck.” And in a flash, his belt flew off, then in another flash, his pants fell down.

“Tented much?” She was truly in no position to tease: a strategic error.

He grinned at the statement, finally, teasingly, let his underwear fall inch-by-inch.

Simultaneously, she bunched up her legs then pulled off her panty that revealed the color combinations that he would die for. Though before he could look for longer, she crossed her shins—hiding the cause of Junho’s demise behind her thin legs.

They shared a giggle before Jun hugged her soft body.

“I will penetrate you in this office.”

“Yes. It appears so.”

“No, like, do you consent?”

“Idiot..” Minjeong pulled him in for another kiss. Which, coincidentally, made his tip graze her engorged and swollen core, Minjeong almost came instantaneously from that alone.

And he could tell, laughing, “Seriously, Minjeong?”

“It’s your fault, you trained me like this.”

“This is like our 3rd time.” He said, as if to brush it off.

“This is my 3rd time.”

And Minjeong would be certainly hurt by the thought that Junho’s partners before her made it more than his 3rd time for him—some of them, the girlfriends, she saw.

He caught on the clues before it was too late, “Minjeong, not to compare, but who else have I been so crazy about? Who else did I track for every minute of the day? Who else did I let in my home (his girlfriends didn’t, actually, get to enter his home)? Who else would make me lose composure when they’re out of my sight-line?”

Letting his forehead touch against hers, he could feel her heart rend and beat and do all sorts of bothered gymnastics.

“It’s always been about you, Minjeong. You are the brilliance of my life, the expansion of a born star—bright from millions of light years away.”

And she needn’t say anything or reply. Absolving him by wrapping her arms tighter around his nape, then holding up her head to desperately kiss Junho again and again.

In between all the kisses, he penetrated Minjeong. His length, constricted against her core, travelled softly—wringing out all sorts of noises. Her swollen pussy wrapped around him gently but tight. “I love you, Minjeong.” Was the last thing said before Minjeong’s eyes went into the back of her head—a cute habit—before she orgasmed and creamed all over.

As per her request, Junho didn’t stop. He let his hips move as slow as he could possibly go before it could be called torture. During all this, Minjeong grabbed for stability as she was getting fucked through her orgasm, feeling that intense thrusting from the love of her life as she covered his length in more of her slick.

“Oh f-” He covered her mouth this time, respecting her wish to stay at least a little lowkey in the office, whatever the hell that meant right now. Then, shallow thrusts turned into slow thrusts all the way to the hilt, getting Minjeong to scrunch her face in pleasure, eyebrows knitted in the highest pleasure, her mouth agape with strands of her saliva connecting the roof of her mouth to her tongue.

“I love you, Minjeong. Fuck. This is insane, having sex with you in my office.”

“Ngh~ I - I love you so much,” was all that she could get across before succumbing to her dopamine receptors—eyes joining the back her head. Junho connected lips with her again, letting her legs lock around his waist, then rubbing his pelvis against her engorged core, clitoris and all.

After Minjeong finally got used to the familiar motions, he grasped her thin waist, almost wrapping his two hands around the entire circumference of her tight waist. Then their eyes met momentarily, Junho had the I am going to fuck you through this desk eyes whilst Minjeong had the prey eyes that relentlessly coalesced to him. Though, before he could go wild, he brushed off the stray hairs stuck to her forehead, gave a reaffirming kiss on her forehead before pumping all the way in.

The small of her back surrendered to his tight grip, bending against the pushes and pulls. Her legs tightened the lock around his waist—almost painfully tight, but that didn’t matter to him, who’d get to pummel her soft pussy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he planted his body against Minjeong’s, pinning her two thin wrists against the stable table.

“You’re fucking me so good, Junho,” Minjeong replied, her rare use of the curse made him chuckle by the side of her head.

“That’s right, baby,” Junho bear-hugged Minjeong, only thrusting deeper and deeper, pelvis rubbing against hers, to make her cum again.

“NGHHH~!” The abrupt moan startled him and herself—however, they didn’t care as much about the employees anymore after indulging in each other’s bodies. Instead of stopping or evaluating the situation—as the rationalists would do—they dug deeper into each other, trying to carve each other with their soft and swollen lips.

Suddenly, he lifted Winter and turned her over. Bending her back against the table before dipping his cock into her pussy again. This time, the entrance was entranced with the soft, tight, wet feeling that he was fully obsessed with. This time, he had more ready access to her soft ass that was so soft and supple that he had to relieve it of its aesthetic beauty: with some redness spread across her ass.

“Oh my god!” Winter squeaked as she reacted against the heavy-handed slap against her ass, loving it, spreading—overflowing—his length with her slick.

Leaning over, he held Minjeong’s chin for the last stretch, considerably slowing down and enjoying each other’s presence.

“How much do you bet the coworkers will give us bad looks?”

“The female workers already give me horrible ones.” She said whilst her chin was held stable by his hand, still moaning against the soft thrusts.

“Hmm, broad generalization. How do you know this?”

“That hickey that you gave that was far too purple and far too above the collar of my blouse.”

“No long-necked turtleneck?”

“No, that’d ruin the point, I wanted to show off the gift my Junho-ssi gave.” That was the moment when he moaned hard, pressing deep inside Winter before releasing all his seed—the seed that Winter felt bounce against her cervix, making her moan out and squeal happily.

“God. Minjeong, you will be my demise.” He sighed before Winter turned around and kissed him, “as long as I get to stay with you, through demise and all,” she said between the kisses.

—

[10] The office furniture procurement department would later note an unusual request for "enhanced stability features" in executive seating, though they wisely chose not to inquire further.

[11] The building's environmental controls registered what could only be classified as "Critical Temperature Fluctuation - Executive Override Protocol Engaged."

—

Evening painted Seoul's skyline in shades of amber and gold, the office gradually emptying as another corporate day drew to a close. Only the executive floor maintained signs of life, though its usual efficiency had given way to something far more intimate[12].

"We should go home," Minjeong murmured against Junho's shoulder, though she made no move to leave her position in his lap. His shirt had long since been unbuttoned, her blouse delightfully rumpled, both their professional facades thoroughly compromised.

"Should we?" His fingers traced lazy patterns up her spine, his other hand still possessively curved around her hip. "I rather like having my secretary exactly where she is."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, finding that unique blend of authority and affection that never failed to make her heart race. "Your secretary has plans for you."

"Oh?" His interest visibly peaked. "More performance reviews?"

"Better." She smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm cooking you dinner. Besides, breakfast was skipped."

The surprise in his expression made her laugh softly. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," she interrupted, then added with deliberate sweetness, "Unless my CEO is refusing a direct offer from his girlfriend?"

His hands tightened on her waist. "Using that title to manipulate me now?"

"Is it working?" She bit her lip, watching his eyes darken at the gesture.

Instead of answering, he pulled her into a kiss that suggested dinner might be delayed[13]. When they finally broke apart, his smile carried dangerous promise. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours," she decided, fingers playing with his collar. "Your kitchen needs christening properly."

His laugh rumbled through both their bodies. "Just the kitchen?"

"We'll see how dinner goes," she teased, then squeaked as he stood suddenly, lifting her with him. "준호야!"

"Efficient time management," he explained, setting her on her feet but keeping her close. "The sooner we leave..."

She pressed against him, deliberate and knowing. "The sooner you can help me... cook?"

"Among other things," he agreed, already reaching for his jacket. The predatory grace in his movements suggested cooking might not be the evening's primary activity[14].

—

[12] Security logs would note this as the third consecutive evening of "Extended Executive Hours," though the actual nature of these extensions remained diplomatically unrecorded.

[13] The office's automated systems began learning to expect these end-of-day delays, adjusting power consumption accordingly.

[14] The kitchen's motion sensors would later flag unusually high activity levels, though whether any actual cooking occurred remained a matter of some debate.

Fin

I fixed some stuff that I executed poorly before, like the crazy amount of math references; which, in foresight, was far too much.

I really had to get this out quickly. Now, I think it's a good idea to not expect anything from me for an entire month (hopefully not).

hope u enjoyed.

#smut #kpop smut #fanfic #aespa #aespa smut #fanfiction #male oc #kpop #winter smut #aespa winter

657 notes · View notes

shouts-into-the-void · 3 months ago

Text

Montresor caring about Will didn't come out of nowhere, Lenore was just mad: a biased completely unbiased post

The thing we need to remember as a rule is that Montresor's default personality is rude and antagonistic even when he's not actively trying to be an aggressor, which means you have to look at what he means rather than necessarily the things he says. He's a clear victim of abuse, who reacts to feelings trapped, cornered, threatened, panicked, or humiliated by lashing out. From what I have gathered, it seems like his mother may have been the type of person who was nice one minute, then became abusive at the drop of a hat, and/or acted loving while claiming she "had to do this for his own good", and he was clearly raised in a very strict religious environment where he didnt have a lot of control/was punished for things he couldnt help. As a reaction, Montresor tries to force an aggressive response out of anyone he feels threatened by, because at least then it's predictable and he feels in control. Okay, great, Montresor analysis out of the way, moving on.

Our first real look at Will and Montresor as a unit is when the clusterfucks (side note: I've seen a lot of people calling them the acoleets now? Far less funny, absolutely not) are discussing their spectres. During this conversation, Montresor is actually hyping Will up, and even when he agrees with Ada that is sounds useless, he makes sure to assure him that it "looks really cool though."

We only really see Montresor become outright violent and dangerous once it's revealed that only one person can win a new life. We see him actively panic about it, and while we don't really get a lot more context for him yelling at Will in the moment, I think its relevant that this is the moment when he starts treating Will less nicely, because now it's a competition and everyone else is potentially out to get him. Hell, he even immediately begins joking around with Will after telling him to shut up, so it's clear that he's acting out of stress and fear immediately after the revelation.

The interaction that immediately follows this is the incident with Morella and Ada, and I find it notable that Montresor goes out of his way to include Will. (when he makes sure to let you get your turn humiliating a woman to prove her loyalty to the group #romantic 🤡)

Later, during the Spectre vs. Students lesson, when Berenice bites Will and he asks for help, Montresor immediately tells her to leave him alone. While he seems mildly annoyed with Will the whole time (kind of understandably, because Will keeps screwing up the plan) he only says anything particularly horrible after Berenice slashes him across the face with her knife, which clearly pisses him off in general. We see him letting Will nap on his shoulder afterwards, which isn't super important I just think it's cute.

Montresor clearly sees them as a unit, as he still involved Will with the plan despite Will messing up the previous night with Duke and stops Will from helping Annabel with Ada despite not having a real reason to do so by saying "We'll sit this one out." Like it should have gone without saying that if he's not doing it, Will isn't either. Then the next day, the fact that Montresor comes to get Will specifically so they can walk to breakfast together? Knows what his toothbrush looks like and goes out of his way to give it back? The little flick on the forehead when he calls him a churchmouse? That he picks up on Will's distress and immediately goes to collect Ada to save him? I see you, fake-ass idgafer.

Which brings me to my next point, which is that it is Lenore on her enraged, vengeful tirade who claims that Montresor hates Will. She claims it's due to his behavior towards Will when he came to get him, but I think its pretty clear she only says it to upset Will. And Will can't think of anything nice Montresor's ever done for him because he's stressed, thinks he's about to get shot, and his self-confidence is super low. He even addresses the fact later that Montresor goes out of his way to save him all the time.

I also think now is a good time to point out that Montresor only seems to physically hurt Will in any significant way when he's been having a flashback. His expression when he comes out of his death flashback to find himself attacking Will is shocked, and while he doesn't apologize, his response does come across as apologetic. He has a similar expression when he wakes up from Ada's vision choking Will, only he looks incredibly panicked that time because he'd done actual damage. The expression on his face when Lenore points out what he's done is pained. I think this runs back to Montresor telling Will not to touch him, I'm pretty sure part of his trauma revolves around physical touch and when he's having an episode of PTSD/not fully aware of his surroundings he lashes out instinctively at the person touching him, which unfortunately means Will, who is a very physically affectionate person (man has 13 siblings and it shows.) Which is unfortunate, because I think Montresor also seems to be a very tactile person, and he actually goes out of his way to be touching Will a lot.

Another interesting thing? Montresor only ever addresses Will by name, which is very significant with context. The nicknames Montresor gives people are meant to mock them, so by only using Will's name it subtlely signals that he holds him in higher respect (or at least in more genuine regard) than the others. In Will's flashback, Sally–someone who went to school with him and was in all the same classes–doesn't remember his name, only that he's one of many Wilson siblings. So for Montresor, who can't even remember his "ace in the hole" and current fling's name, to be constantly making it a point to say he knows who Will is, is a great indicator of his actual feelings. By contrast, Will calls Montresor "Monty" exclusively, the only nickname he receives that is genuinely affectionate and something he never attempts to make him stop calling him.

Which pretty much brings us back to the events of the current episodes, which I've already talked about the significance of in another post. I know this is probably insanely biased for multiple reasons and im sure theres a bunch of little tidbits I've forgotten , but do with it what you will.

#now that yall are up to date and seeing my vision #nevermore #montresor nevermore #will nevermore #willtresor #nevermore webtoon

336 notes · View notes

mssalo · 10 months ago

Text

Hummingbird - Part: I

Summary: In the quiet town of Jackson, Joel becomes consumed by a dark and overpowering obsession with his new neighbor. What begins as fascination quickly spirals into something much darker as he loses control over his desires.

3,6k

Warnings: +18, MDNI, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, obsessive!Joel, stalking, voyeurism, dark themes, explicit sexual content, masturbation, age gap (not specified), unprotected PIV, noncon, sexual obsession, power imbalance, dark!Joel, inappropriate behavior

Part: I

Here’s Part II.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

In the quiet of Jackson, where the rhythm of daily life had settled into a predictable monotony, something delicate and strange began to intrude upon Joel Miller’s routine. It was a morning like any other, with the sun rising lazily over the horizon, casting a gentle golden hue across the town. Joel was out on his usual run, his steps methodical and unhurried as he made his way back to the his house, his mind occupied with mundane thoughts.

It was then, amidst the usual rustle of leaves and distant hum of the town awakening, that he first heard it. At first, it was barely perceptible—a faint, ethereal sound drifting through the air like a whisper from another world. Joel paused, his attention momentarily snagged by the delicate melody that seemed to dance just at the edge of his hearing. It was as if the air itself had taken on a subtle, musical quality, a softness that contrasted starkly with the rough edges of his usual environment.

He turned his head, his gaze searching for the source of this unexpected serenade. It was coming from the house next door, a modest structure that had always seemed unremarkable, shrouded in vines and surrounded by the casual chaos of overgrown greenery. The sound was so incongruous with the house’s unassuming exterior that it felt like a secret whisper from within, something hidden and precious.

Joel’s curiosity was piqued. He stood still for a moment, trying to catch the essence of the melody. It was a hum—a soft, resonant tone that seemed to rise and fall with a natural, almost instinctual grace. The notes were like tendrils of mist, curling through the air and slipping past his defenses. He could only imagine the source, but it was enough to make him linger longer than usual, his gaze drawn toward the window of the house.

He paused, listening, his gaze instinctively drawn toward her house. Through the window, all he could make out was a fleeting shadow, a delicate form moving gracefully inside.

At first, Joel thought nothing of it, dismissing the moment as an odd distraction. But as the days passed, something began to shift in him. He found himself increasingly drawn to that house, his curiosity growing with every glimpse of her. It started innocently enough, with stolen glances as he passed by, but soon it became more deliberate. His steps slowed near her house, his eyes straying toward her window, searching for even the slightest sign of her. He was fascinated by the way she moved, by the way her hands gently tended to the garden, her fingers brushing over the petals of flowers she grew with such care. Each sight sent a strange rush through him, something that made his pulse quicken.

· · ─────

The first time Joel saw your face, it struck him with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs. He had been watching, hidden behind the blinds of his window, when you stepped outside. The world seemed to pause, holding its breath as your eyes met his, just for a brief, charged moment. Your wide, innocent eyes framed by long lashes, and the natural rosy glow of your cheeks, made Joel’s chest tighten. You smiled softly, the gentle curve of your lips triggering something deep inside him. He felt it immediately—a need so intense it nearly overwhelmed him.

Joel’s heart pounded in his chest, a relentless pressure building in his pants. His body reacted violently to the sight of you—his cock hardening painfully. He clenched his fists at his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to approach you, to bridge the gap that separated you.

That was when the obsession began.

He started to hear your voice more clearly, each utterance a sweet murmur that resonated deep within him. Even the simplest exchanges—casual hellos, friendly greetings—were like a siren’s call, drawing him deeper into his obsession. Your voice was a melody that seemed to play directly to his most primal desires. Every word you spoke, every laugh, every soft-spoken sentence made his resolve crumble.

As he observed you from a distance, he couldn’t help but be captivated by the way your clothes clung to your body—how your sundress gently swayed with each movement, exposing just enough to tease. The sight of your legs, bare and inviting, only served to fuel his obsession. His cock often grew hard and throbbing whenever he caught sight of you, straining painfully against his pants. The thought of you, so close yet so out of reach, drove him to the brink of madness.

One evening, as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, Joel found himself standing by his window, peering out at your house. His breath came in ragged gasps as he saw you stepping outside, your form illuminated by the fading light. You looked ethereal, your face soft and angelic in the warm glow. The sight of you made his cock pulse with need. He gripped the edge of the windowsill, trying to steady himself, but the pressure in his pants became almost unbearable.

He watched, nearly paralyzed with desire, as you walked to your mailbox, your hips swaying with each step. The way your dress clung to your curves made his mouth go dry. His hand instinctively moved to his aching cock, and he found himself pressing against it through his pants, trying to relieve some of the intense pressure. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of dirty fantasies—images of you, your soft lips wrapped around him, your body arching beneath him.

“Goddammit, baby” he cursed, his voice low and strained. “I need you so bad… fuckin’ want you so much…” His hand moved under his pants to his aching cock as he began to stroke himself slowly, his mind filled with filthy images of you. He imagined your soft lips on his skin, your body arching in pleasure beneath him. He imagined how you’d look at him with your pretty eyes as you took him between your soft pillowy lips. fuck.

The intensity of his desire pushed him to the edge as he whispered dirty thoughts about you, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

With every stroke, he imagined you moaning his name, your body shuddering with pleasure as he took you, over and over again. Pounding into your little cunt. He could almost feel the warmth of your body against his, the way your skin would feel under his hands.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, eyes locked onto your unknowing frame as he stroked himself, his mind filled with filthy fantasies of you. “I bet you’d feel so good wrapped around me, fuck…”

The thought drove him to the brink, and he came with a shuddering gasp, his mind filled with the image of you—innocent and sweet, yet twisted into his darkest fantasies.

· · ─────

Later, when Joel finally mustered the courage to approach you, he was a bundle of conflicting emotions—nervousness and raw, unfiltered desire coiling tightly within him.

The encounter had been a fantasy that had played out in his mind countless times, and now it was happening in reality. Every step toward your porch felt monumental, his heart pounding with a frenetic rhythm that echoed in his ears. His palms were slick with sweat, making his grip on the porch railing shaky as he approached.

He could barely contain the tremors that coursed through his hands and legs, the anticipation making his entire body vibrate with a desperate urgency.

You were seated gracefully on your porch, a book resting lightly in your lap, your legs crossed in a demure manner that only accentuated the delicate curve of your soft thighs.

The evening light painted you in a soft, almost ethereal glow, casting shadows that highlighted the gentle curve of your silhouette. Joel couldn’t believe how one could look so… pretty.

When you looked up and saw him standing there, your eyes widened with surprise, and a radiant, innocent smile spread across your face—a sight so pure and captivating that it made Joel’s breath catch in his throat.

“Hello,” Joel managed to say, his voice coming out rough and gravelly, betraying the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

He struggled to keep his tone steady, forcing himself to act casual despite the intense craving gnawing at his insides.

Your smile only widened further, and your eyes sparkled with a blend of curiosity and warmth.

“Oh, hi! You must be Mr. Miller. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Joel’s gaze fell to your hand as you extended it in greeting.

Immediately his thoughts slipped to your delicate fingers gripping his throbbing member while he called you his goodgirl. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a rush of blood pool in his cock, which was now straining painfully against the confines of his pants.

Every move you made seemed to amplify his arousal, and he fought to maintain control as he forced himself to look up at your face.

The sight of you, so effortlessly charming and engaging, was overwhelming. His cock throbbed again with an urgent need that he could hardly contain, and he struggled to keep his composure as he looked at you. Do you know, what you’re doing to him?

“Call me Joel,” he said, his voice low and strained, barely above a whisper. His hands were clammy, and he had to clench them into fists to keep them from reaching out and taking you right on the floor.

You continued to speak, your voice a soft, inviting murmur that wrapped around him like a velvet glove, soothing yet igniting.

“I was just out here enjoying the evening. How are you?”

Joel’s eyes traced every movement you made, every subtle shift of your body.

The way you leaned forward slightly, the way your pretty pink lips parted in a soft, engaging smile—all of it was a tantalizing display that made his cock strain even harder.

He could feel the wetness seeping from the tip of his cock, staining the fabric of his pants, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to discreetly adjust himself while maintaining a semblance of normal conversation.

“I’m doin’ fine,” he said, his voice barely audible.

All he could focus on was the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with an innocent curiosity that heightened his yearning.

His mind was consumed by a storm of lustful thoughts, barely registering the actual conversation. Do you feel this pull, too?

The more you spoke, the more his body betrayed him.

Every smile you flashed, every soft laugh that escaped your lips, was like a provocative tease that made his cock twitch with uncontrollable arousal.

His fantasies grew darker with each passing second, imagining what it would be like to press you against the wall, to feel your body writhing beneath him, to hear your moans of pleasure while he sucked your perfect clit into his mouth and doing that, and more, for hours.

The thought made him shudder with a mix of desire and frustration, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Each accidental brush of your body against his was like a jolt of electricity. You’re talking, but he only grasps half of it.

When you leaned in to grab something from the table, your soft, intoxicating scent enveloped him, making his cock nearly explode with a desperate need.

He could barely keep himself together, his thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of dirty fantasies.

You, looking up at him while sucking on his twitching balls. Licking between them and going lower-

He interrupted himself before he would go actually insane.

You laughed at something he said, and the sound of your laughter—sweet and melodic—was like a siren’s call that fueled his desire further.

He envisioned your eyes filled with innocent curiosity as you took him in. The thought made his cock leak uncontrollably, the wet stain spreading on his pants a testament to his arousal.

Look down, baby. Look what you’re doing to me. Give me a fuckin’ reason.

· · ─────

As the evening drew to a close and you finally excused yourself, Joel was left standing there, his body trembling with a mix of frustration and unfulfilled desire.

He watched you walk back inside, your silhouette framed by the warm light of your home, and the sight only deepened his obsession.

He retreated to his own house, barely able to contain the need that simmered just beneath the surface.

Later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts were consumed by you. Every moment, every touch, every word you had spoken replayed in his mind with relentless intensity.

His hand moved to his aching cock, and he began to stroke himself slowly, his mind filled with filthy images of you. He imagined your soft lips on his skin, your body arching in pleasure beneath him. The intensity of his desire pushed him to the edge as he whispered dirty thoughts about you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. My goodgirl. You’ll be such a good fuckin’ girl.

“Fuck, I need you so bad,” he groaned, each stroke of his hand sending waves of pleasure through him.

I want to feel your tight pussy wrapped around me, hear you scream my name. I need to make you mine.

With each stroke, he envisioned you moaning his name, calling out to him. Daddy, sir, master, anything - as long as it’s you.

The thought drove him to the brink, and he came with a shuddering gasp, his mind flooded with the image of you—innocent and sweet, yet twisted into his darkest fantasies.

· · ─────

Joel knew his obsession with you was consuming him, but he couldn’t stop.

Every sight, every sound, only deepened his fixation. He was trapped in a cycle of desire and denial, the more he saw of you, the more intense his obsession became.

The twisted desire that had taken root in him was growing stronger, and he knew there was no escaping the dark, perverse longing that now ruled his every thought.

“I have to have her,” Joel whispered into the darkness, the words a promise and a curse. His mind was set on claiming you, making you his in every way. The thought of finally having you, of making you his possession, consumed him completely. He was lost in his obsession, and the only thing that mattered now was the need to make you his, no matter the cost.

Soon, we’ll be together - my sweet little hummingbird.

1K notes · View notes

twilightkitkat · 8 months ago

Text

Poolverine but they dress up as each other for Halloween. I'm not just talking about swapping costumes—they go all in. They get those facial prosthetics to get each other's skin textures right, Wade goes in with makeup for detailing, and Wade wears a bodysuit while Logan wears slight platform shoes and shapewear to roughly match their builds.

They put on each other's suits and make sure the proportions are as accurate as possible. Wade even goes as far as to call in a few favors to get voice-changing abilities.

Then, Halloween, they pretend to be each other. They try to match each other's personalities and mannerisms and see if anyone can notice.

At first, you'd think it'd be obvious that they switched. But here's the thing: they know each other. Wade knows how Logan moves and talks and acts and fights. Logan knows how to predict Wade's moods and reactions and decisions. They're incredibly self-aware and in sync.

They both show up to their friend's Halloween party dressed as each other. The crowd is incredibly large because everyone invited all the people that they know, which includes Vanessa's new friends and the majority of the X-mansion.

The only person who knew off the bat was Laura. There was no hiding it from her with her sense of smell, but they didn't intend to. She was in on the joke and came to watch the shitshow in action.

When asked about their costume, "Wade" says that Deadpool is what all the kids want to dress up as for Halloween, and he was just following the trend! Besides, no need to waste money buying a costume when he has the best one right in his closet. He's the scariest to be, obviously, because Deadpool is such a fearsome name.

Logan matches Wade's pitch immaculately, curling his voice into a whine before going back to talking cheerily as if nothing happened. Nobody bats an eye, classic Wade behavior.

Any slight imperfections are hidden by the flashing lights and relaxed atmosphere and large crowd. It's hard to pick out their friends in a crowd, let alone tell the differences between their carefully crafted copycat plans.

Laura gets closer to "Logan" and asks him how "Wade" has been lately, playing along. He responds with a grunt and an exasperated but fond summary of Wade's newest hyperfixation, acting as if he didn't know any of the terminology for it.

She has to hide a shit-eating grin when some of the people who knew Logan from the X-mansion came up to greet him and ask him how he's been. Plan successful.

"Logan" reaches out and pats a few heads, lingering just long enough to show he cares but pulling away soon enough to avoid deep intimacy. He answers questions with the same gruff tone as the actual Logan, giving just enough information to satisfy their questions.

Miraculously, the night continues and they haven't been caught. This is quite frankly hilarious because the two had done their rounds with each other's friends and acquaintances and apparently knew enough about each other to answer accurately. It's a pretty big feat, and even Laura has to reluctantly admit she's impressed by how well they know each other to pull this off.

The two draw together near the end, bickering as usual and using each other's tactics. Wade has to stifle a giggle at Logan imitating his out to not break character, and Logan has to hold himself back from burying his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

The real challenge is when Vanessa comes in to greet "Wade," with her new boyfriend in tow. Because Logan knows how Wade should act: vaguely uncomfortable and awkward, cagey toward the new guy, with an undertone of yearning and regret.

He knows this, but it stings. It hurts to know that while Wade and him are living together, a part of Wade will always belong to Vanessa. He knows it's irrational and that he's the main person in Wade's life, but the thought of them together makes him feel vaguely nauseous.

But he promised Wade he'd try to do this with him. They'd made bets and everything about who would find out and who wouldn't. He didn't want to ruin his fun.

So Logan grits his teeth and shifts into character, acting a little tense but also relieved to see her. Acting a bit more closed off and tense when the new guy introduces himself, and a little embarrassed to be seen with "Logan." Guilty, almost, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

But Vanessa's expression isn't remorseful or awkward. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, crosses her arms, and asks him what's wrong. Tells him that something's clearly bothering him and that he knows he can come to her for anything.

Logan becomes confused. What was he doing wrong? Was he not giving her the "puppy dog eyes" convincingly enough? Was he not portraying the bittersweet feeling of seeing "the one who got away" well?

But then she asks him if he and "Logan" were fighting. If something was going wrong in their relationship for him to act so cagey and upset.

...And Logan is baffled. What the hell does them fighting have to do with this?

Until she continues. She tells him that she knows how much "Logan" means to him and that she knows Logan feels the same (it's obvious just in the way he looks at Wade), so she's sure they'll figure it out soon.

She chuckles and shakes her head and says that it's endearing how Wade constantly talks about Logan as if he's the only topic in the world. That she's glad he's happy and that she remembered him asking to meet her boyfriend at some point so he could "rate her taste." She pats his shoulder, placatingly, and tells him that she's always there to talk if anything happens. Then she leaves.

And oh.

Logan thought he had Wade's personality down to a science, that he knew almost everything about him. His thoughts, his feelings, his relationships. ...But apparently, he was wrong for once.

Then he takes a second to stand there and analyze his interactions with Wade. And he realizes that she was right. That Wade glancing constantly back at him when Vanessa was there wasn't awkward pining for his ex, but just Wade wanting to look at Logan.

Now that he thinks about it, Wade doesn't just do that around Vanessa. He did it around almost everyone. He'd intermittently glance at Logan with what he assumed to be embarrassment over him, but now he realizes it was endearment. Awe. Bashfulness and slight pride over getting to introduce Logan to his friends instead of being ashamed of him.

And Logan realized that maybe he didn't know everything about Wade. That maybe, some of his assumptions were based more on his own experiences and past rather than the present. That he let his jealousy and insecurity and anxiety cloud his interpretation until it became foggy, creating the same rough shape but without the structure.

...And Logan smiles, under the mask. A warm, incredulous thing. That Wade spent most of his time with Vanessa talking about him. That it was so obvious Wade loved him that everyone commented on it. He'd never had someone be proud of belonging to him before, showing him off like he was something worth coveting. It felt nice.

Eventually, he rejoined "Logan's" side. He sidled up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder, throwing out a flirty comment and cuddling closer. "Logan" let him, letting his shoulder slump and wrapping an arm around him in return.

"Wade" stared at "Logan," watching his expressions shift and the curve of his lips as they moved. He let the adoration and wonder swell up in him, seeing how accurately Wade played the part.

It was obvious that he was staring, but nobody batted an eye. They all accepted it as normal, as if it was perfectly in character for Wade to stare at Logan with full focus even while people flitted and talked around them.

When Logan leaned in to kiss Wade's shoulder, nobody said anything.

(They manage to make it through the night without anyone calling them out on their impersonation. When they reveal it the next day, everyone is shocked. It was so realistic that they couldn't even tell.

Well, almost everyone is shocked. Laura rolls her eyes and Vanessa hides a knowing smile behind the rim of her coffee cup.)

#poolverine #deadclaws #kitkat #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool movie #wade x logan #wade/logan #poolverine angst #but only a little #mainly fluff #theyre adorable #i love them #halloween special!!!!

534 notes · View notes

peachiejeongin · 7 months ago

Text

Jealousy | Lee Know

Synopsis: You and Lee Know have been best friends for as long as time can tell; however, a third party has ignited an unfamiliar negativity in him, and he is finally ready to handle it himself.

Pairing: jealous! dom!LK x fem!reader (Reader has breasts and a vagina, and uses she/her pronouns !)

Genre: Smut, a bit of Angst, Fluff towards the ending

Warnings: Sexually Explicit Content (18+), marking, breast-play (sort of), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (please use protection my loves!), pet names (sweetheart, good girl, baby, etc.), Minho is extremely jealous and possessive, Minho quite literally answers the phone during sex [As always, please inform me if I missed anything!]

Word Count: 9k

Notice: Hello, my darlings! I have missed you all dearly! I recently acquired a bit of inspiration to get back into writing, so enjoy a Lee Know smut drabble I wrote a while back :)

Smut under the cut!

"Hey, I feel like we're getting off topic again," Minho bluntly states, cutting you off in the middle of your chatter. You glanced at him, your mouth slightly agape from the abrupt interruption. "You do remember that hanging out today was your idea, right?"

Of course, you remembered it was your idea; after all, you had made the plans last minute, just that morning. You invited Minho over for a movie and a catch-up night, since you hadn't seen him in a few days. You expected a normal evening with him; however, hanging out felt strange. In fact, it had felt unusual ever since a certain third party had entered the picture.

You had recently started talking to another guy and had unintentionally began spending more time with him than with Lee Know. As of late, though, this new guy seemed to be distancing himself from you; he would often go days, or even up to a week, without speaking to you. Then, he would reappear in your life as if nothing had happened, claiming to have been, "busy."

Your best friend saw right through the guy's facade; he knew the guy was only seeking attention from you, and he was not tolerating it. Despite Minho's clear disapproval, it seemed as if the guy consumed much of your conversations lately; in fact, Minho interjected as you were once again delving into another tangent about the guy's behavior. It had become a predictable cycle: the guy would reappear after ghosting, make plans, and vanish again. Frankly, Lee Know was growing tired of it.

"Yeah, I know hanging out was my idea. Why wouldn't I remember that?" you questioned, a confused expression present amongst your features.

Minho scoffed. "Because it's not feeling like it," he said. You raised one eyebrow, urging him to explain further. "I understand you want advice and my personal input on what's going on with this potential guy, and I can help you out with whatever as your friend..." He paused briefly, letting out a deep sigh as he continued, "I'm trying really hard not to be a jerk about this, but I really thought today wasn't going to revolve around this again."

"Min, I get where you're coming from, but I feel like you're making it seem like I've been talking about this guy non-stop, which I haven't." Upon your response, Minho could not stop himself from narrowing his eyes and chuckling coldly.

"Literally, since I brought you that water, you have not stopped talking about him."

"Yes, I have! I've talked about so many other things, and-"

"When?" he promptly cuts you off again, his voice raising slightly. "I mean, seriously? When I first came over, you were all like, 'Hey, I need your opinion. Can you look at this for a sec?'" Lee Know mirrored your prior actions by shoving his phone in your face.

What had you shoved in Lee Know's face exactly? A message from the guy stating, "Sorry, I've been busy." The date on the message read 8:41P.M., not even thirty minutes ago. The last message you had sent, on the contrary, read Monday, November 18th.

Over a week ago.

You wanted Minho's honest opinion; after all, he was your only friend that would give you the truth instead of what you wanted to hear. Thus, the truth he gave: "How many times do I have to tell you this guy is not worth it?"

And so, you find yourself connecting the dots on previous events.

"I may have asked for your opinion, but I didn't shove my phone in your face," you argue, pushing his phone away by instinct. You were becoming increasingly annoyed at his behavior.

"Yeah, you did," he retaliated, retracting his phone. "You shoved your phone in my face just like that." You opened your mouth to counter; however, no sound came out. All thoughts on how to go against him had completely dissipated from your mind. You closed your agape jaw in defeat and stared grimly at the floor. Lee Know rolled his eyes harshly.

"I told you last time, and I'll tell you again, it means he's not worth your time. This guy is clearly only trying to hit you up when it's convenient for him, and you know that, too."

Minho's grievances mirrored but also contrasted your own. Of course, he was agitated with your behavior, but the hinderance came from a divergent perspective; he knew you were smarter than this, you had to be. There was absolutely no way you could not see the clear convenience you were to this guy. Minho could not tell if you were intently playing dumb in order to lessen the blame or if you were simply blind sighted by this guy.

Either way, he was fed up.

You could not wrap your head around the guy's actions, however. Just the other night, the two of you had went on a date that went pleasantly well. How was he able to change up so quickly?

You made mention of your thoughts aloud: "But...the last date we went on..."

"What about it?" Minho sat up and threw his hands sharply to his sides in a vexed manner. He leaned back on his palms, his eyebrows furrowed as he awaited your response.

"It just...It went really well is all..." You shrugged and folded your arms over your torso. You tapped your foot against the hardwood floor as you apprehensively glanced up at Minho. He had taken off his glasses and was rubbing his temples.

He put his glasses back on, took a deep inhale, and cupped his hands in your direction.

"So what if the date went really well, Y/N? That doesn't excuse what he's been doing. He's basically ghosted you for an entire week, and it's been, what? Three times now?" Minho's acute words stung. You knew he was right, but it was still taking you time you wrap your head around one aspect:

Why?

"I get that things aren't official yet," he continued, snapping you out of your thoughts, "but you have to see that this guy is-"

"I just don't understand why, Min," you interrupted him this time. "What even is going to happen after this?" He narrowed his eyes and inhaled sharply.

"Look, i really don't want to be your counselor again," Lee Know shook his head while chuckling out of aggravation. "But, obviously, he's gonna try to make up every excuse and try to act sweet when he finally responds."

"What if he really has been busy, though?" you desperately reply, attempting to convince yourself more than anything. Minho did not shoot a glance at you this time, the annoyance clear on his sunk in expression.

"Look," he stated directly in attempts to get you to listen. "It might be more acceptable if you two were going into this potential relationship expecting it to be a casual kind of thing, y'know, with no strings attached. But, that's not what you've been telling me, and he knows exactly what this is supposed to be. He's the one that's not respecting your time, or my time for that matter because I constantly have to listen to what a piece this guy sounds like."

"He...He hasn't been acting like there's no strings attached! Just the other day, he-" You huffed in efforts to tell Minho about how the guy denied another girl's number at the arcade on the last date, even going so far as to call you "his girl." Once again, however, Minho interjected.

"You are really starting to annoy me." his words cut; they were honest, yet brutal. "There is no way you are this stupid, y/n. Come on: not responding for weeks at a time? Love bombing when he does respond? That's acting like no strings attached." You considered Lee Know's words for a brief moment. Upon this, you finally had a realization:

"Maybe...Maybe he's not worth it anymore."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Minho responded with a chuckle mixed of disbelief and humor. "Get rid of him; you would be doing us both a favor that way."

You nodded in sorrow, staring down at your phone. Despite the comment you had made, part of you was still hoping you would look at your lock screen and there would be a text message from him.

"So, you're not going to talk to him anymore. Deal?" Minho ponders, snapping you out of your train of thought.

"No. No, I'm not going to talk to him anymore." You set your phone down on your lap, your foot still tapping nervously.

"So, we're done with this?" he follows up with a second question.

"I don't know, Min," you admit, causing Minho to intake a rough breath. "I mean, I still can't comprehend it. He's so sweet and caring, and he's really good in-"

"No, I don't wanna hear about it, y/n!" Minho finally snaps, managing to keep his voice stern but calm.

"What? Why? I thought you were supposed to be here for me?" you ask, once again hurt by his words.

"I am here for you, but I don't like hearing about these guys you're seeing," Minho growled, his voice tinged with frustration. "I just really do not need to know about all of that, okay? Just put it down, and let's not talk about this anymore."

"Okay, okay. Fine. What do you wanna talk about?" You finally look up at Minho, your eyes sunk in and arms crossed with defeat.

"Well, I was thinking," he began, his voice a lot more gentle, "that we could talk about, and this is just a wild idea, but something related to us instead?" He accentuated his words with a few lighthearted chuckles.

"Hm, yeah. Did you have something specific in mind?" you inquired, your demeanor beginning to soften but your eyes still narrowed in slight frustration.

"I did have something. I actually already had this in mind before you got me offtopic earlier," he teased briefly, "but I was thinking since we both have some time off next week, we should go out and eat somewhere!" Minho's eyes seemed to beaming as bright as his smile; he took pride in the fact that he was able to deter your attention back to him, back to where it was supposed to be, he thought. He missed you dreadfully, and the suggestion of going out to dinner had been plaguing his mind since he walked through your front door.

"Oh yeah?" you asked rhetorically. "What place did you have in mind?" You returned his grin with a soft, half smile of your own. You could not deny you had missed spending time with him has well; however, the thoughts of your admirer still clouded your better judgement. Unintentionally, you began to stare off into space as Lee Know began his reply.

"There's been this one new place that I've been wanting to try. I think it would be nice," Lee Know explained as he began to describe the new traditional restaurant that had just opened up not even a couple of blocks away from your apartment. Lee Know ended his description with a cheeky, "Plus, I feel like you kind of owe me one anyways." This statement snapped you out of your endless distraction. You turned your head in his direction quickly, your eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown present on your face, replacing the half-smile that was just present.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you interrogated, your tone coming off more accusatory than attended. Minho raised a teasing eyebrow to accompany his ever-present smile, which now had morphed into more of a smirk; he was slightly taken aback by your sudden yet slight outburst.

"You know exactly what that's supposed to mean," he responded unequivocally, nodding his head with each accentuation of the sentence. "I'm just saying that you've been so busy with your new guy that we haven't had a chance to hang out lately. Remember last week? When you flaked on me...twice?" Minho's smile had slightly faded, his demeanor becoming solumn in contrast to the previous cheeky behavior.

You did remember essentially leaving Minho in the dust last week, although you did not want to. You and Minho had planned a night together, similar to the one you were having at this moment; however, on the night of the planned venture, the new guy had messaged you out of the blue and asked if you wanted to grab dinner with him that night. All reason had fled from your mind at that moment as you texted back, 'Yes!' without thinking twice about your plans for the night. It was not until Minho had began to blow up your cellphone with messages such as, 'Where are you?' 'y/n, i'm at your apartment,' and 'hello? what the hell?!' when you remembered. You quickly replied, explaining what had happened and that you would be home soon in a desperate attempt to please both parties, yet your response was met with, 'Don't bother. I'm going home.'

With this failed endeavor, you and Minho had attempted to reschedule your arrangements for the next night; thankfully, Minho had the whole week off from schedules, and it was your fall break from classes. You had made a slight adjustment to visit the cinema rather than a move night at your apartment. Yet, this attempt succeeded just as much as the first did, and it went about the same way; it was as if the guy had some sort of radar detecting the days you and Minho had planned to hang out so he could steal you away.

As you dreadfully remembered the events of the prior week, you scoffed and refused to give up your stern standpoint on the matter.

"You sound jealous, y'know that?" was the response your anger-stricken brain formulated. You had stated it without thinking, honestly, and you instantly regretted it once Minho leaned back on the couch, his arms crossing and his mouth slightly agape in pure vexation.

"I sound what?" he inquired stiffly, his dark brown eyes staring daggers into your gaze. "Jealous?" he repeated the word as if he could not believe the statement, which to some degree he could not. He followed up the repitition with a couple of brutal snickers as he shook his head in disbelief. His stare had now found its way boring holes into the wall beside him. "Very funny. I'm not jealous," he claimed as if he was trying to convince himself of the matter rather than you. He shifted his gaze towards the floor as he continued, "I just think you should follow through when we make plans."

"You know we can always reschedule," you responded somberly as you glanced out of the window to your right in order to avoid eye contact with Minho.

"Yeah, you can reschedule, but you ended up cancelling that too," Minho fixed his eyes upon you, specifically how you were still refusing to look at him. You knew the truth to his words, which only made the guilt to felt ten times worse; still, you refused to let your guard down, responding to his truth with a skeptical head shake. You rolled your eyes as you did so, and you shifted your gaze to side eye the male.

"Do you not hear yourself? You are jealous, otherwise you wouldn't be speaking like this, or bringing up last week!" There was no denying your rage at this moment; you were tired of Minho bringing up your faults, especially when it was in relation to this guy. Minho's tongue prodded at his cheek and his vacant expression darkened. There was a brief silence as Minho contemplated what to say in order to get his point across and not sound like a total jerk.

"Okay," he started, "now, you're just imagining things. I'm not jealous." You chuckled slightly, turning your gaze back to focus on the rain pittering against the windows outside.

"Sure," you replied quite coldly with a strained, sarcastic smirk plastered upon your face. Minho frustratedly breathed in and took a slight glance towards the ceiling.

"Fine," he threw his hands up slightly, "y'know what? Forget it. Let's just drop this." He attempted to change the topic of conversation, both because he was tired of talking about his feelings, but also because there was a minuscule aspect of him that knew you were correct. "But, if you happen have time to allocate next week, is that a yes or a no on the restaurant thing?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity. Minho was JUST on your case, and now he is bringing the subject of the restaurant.

He is so jealous, you thought.

That was not what came out of your mouth, however. Instead, you sighed as a way to release the lingering tidbits of bottled-up anger you felt and responded with a simple question: "What did you say the name of the place was again?" Minho paused for a moment in an attempt to remember the answer to your question.

"Uh, I don't remember the exact name, but it opened up right next to the theatre," Minho did his best to recollect the traditional restaurant, but could only remember its location.

"Is it that one new silverish building with all of the fairy lights hanged near the entrance?" you inquired genuinely, your body beginning to relax from the intensity of aforementioned events. Minho nodded slightly, finally feeling a sense of relief that you were endulging in a conversation unrelated to the guy.

"Yeah, yeah, that building. The name was, uh," Minho attempted to recall the name of the restaurant once again, and partially succeeded, "Great...something." You laughed at his inable memory, causing him to eye you up and down in a playful manner. "Listen, I had the name in my head for the entire day!"

"Likely story! Where'd it go then?" you asked him cheekily, leaning in a bit closer to him on the couch as if to accentuate your question. Lee Know moved away from you in sarcastic disgust as he returned your giggles.

"I don't know! For some reason, it's just on the tip of my tongue right now," Minho returned to his normal sitting position as he racked his brain for the name of the restaurant.

"Is it...is it 'Great Bake?'" you asked as you recalled seeing a grey building that matched the description of the restaurant. Minho looked at you, confusion etched all over his face.

"No, that's a cookie shop!" Minho chortled at your futile attempt at recollecting. "Plus, that place has been there for years now. But I mean, we can go there if you want." You tilted your head at the suggestion before slowly shaking it.

"No thanks. I'd rather go for a meal than for cookies. They make my stomach ache," you rubbed your stomach as you stated the last part in order to adorn your words with comicality.

"Are you sure?" Minho asked you genuinely. "Because I don't mind going for desert after. Or we could go for Boba afterwards if you prefer."

"Nah," you politely declined his offers. "I think the meal will be enough for me."

"You sure?" Minho inquired once more. "It can be my treat!"

"You don't have a reason to treat me," you retaliated in a half-serious half-silly demeanor. Lee Know shook his head in response.

"There doesn't have to be a reason."

"You're just never this considerate is all." Another reply you would slightly regret the moment is escaped your lips. Minho threw his head back, his ego slightly hurt at your statement.

"I am always considerate, hello?" he countered sounding a tad vexated. "What kind of image do you have of me?"

"Well, if you're always considerate, is dinner going to be on you too?" you inquired, crossing your arms brazenly as you awaited an answer.

"You..." Minho's voice quieted as he let out a string of adorning giggles. "No, relax. I am only covering the dessert portion." You scoffed, this one coming out in an exuberant manner in contrast to the previous ones out of annoyance.

"So, I'll pay for dinner in order to make it up to you, I guess, and you'll pay for dessert?" You had decided to concede to Minho's proposition about the cookies and boba. He beamed brightly at your own proposal.

"Okay, let's do that then!" his words were laced with a joyous hint, which made your heart smile. You had a newfound exhileration for the endeavor; as such, you asked Minho if he was excited in order to ensure that the feeling was reciprocated.

"I am, yeah! I am excited for the food!" Minho poked fun towards you, causing you to lightly smack the back of his head. "I'm just kidding, y/n. Of course I am excited for the food, but also because you and I, y'know...I said it earlier, but it really has been a while since we've been able to catch up. Like, not just surface level stuff in our lives, and I've really missed-"

Minho's endearing ramble was interrupted by a buzz of your cellphone; the guy's name appeared on your phone screen in the form of an iMessage. A second buzz quickly followed, and you almost lept at the coffee table in attempts to retrieve your phone. You came to a stop just as your hand grasped the device, and you slowly looked up from the table, making dejected eye contact with Minho. The grin on his face swifty disappeared, and he sighed as he looked down at the ground one more.

"I'm sorry, Min. Do you...mind if I answer this real quick?" You figured it was at least alright to ask, but you took note of how upset he appeared as the inquiry left your mouth.

"Uh, yeah, go ahead. Can't really ignore that, right?" Minho never looked up from the ground as he spoke, and the last fragment of his sentence came out in a snarky bearing.

"I mean I can if, if you want me to," you stuttered, and Minho just shook his head in disapproval.

"I know if you try not to check your phone, you're just going to get distracted from the conversation," Minho paused, taking into consideration how you were hyper-focused on your phone, your fingers were already moving at the speed of light to type out a reply to the guy. "And it looks like you're already doing that anyways." You glanced up from your phone, your face contorted into a confused expression with your eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed together.

"Why are you making that face at me?" Minho catechized your expression as if it was the most unnecessary item in the world. "It's him again, I know it is. I told you not to bother with him anymore, so why are you even thinking about responding?" You were silent, a culpable feeling engulfing your body.

"He. He apologized, and he said-"

"It doesn't matter what he's saying!" Minho snapped outrageously, instantly standing and unintentionally towering over you. "Are you serious right now? We just talked about this!" His fists were clenched by his side, and his eyes were narrowed in exasperation. Before he could let his emotions take over, he took a couple of steps away from you and removed his glasses one more, rubbing at the inner corners of his eyes to seemingly rid them of the stress he was feeling. "Y'know, this is really starting to piss me off."

"Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" you queried, careful not to let the lump building up in your throat waiver your voice. Minho looked at you as if you had lost your sanity.

"Because I thought we were done with this, y/n."

"It's none of your business, Minho!" You had stood up now as well in order to mirror the actions of your friend. He took a step closer to you, his expression vexing further if that was fathomable.

"No, it wasn't my business initially, but you kind of went and made it my business with how often you rubbed this in my face. What, you expect me not to care about what happens to you?" You jeered at Minho's question, slapping a hand against your thigh in frustration.

"Can you just admit you don't like the fact I'm hanging out with a guy who isn't you? That's what the whole problem is here! Like I said: you're jealous, Minho." You crossed your arms as you stared up at the taller boy, who rolled his eyes in the middle of your reply.

"Here you go again with the jealousy thing," Minho huffed. "Look, I'm really annoyed already, so can you stop messing around, please?"

"I'm not messing around," you defended your stance. "You're only worried about me because another guy is in the picture."

"I am worried about you as a friend, y/n, and I'm saying from a platonic standpoint that he is not worth it," Minho retaliated, the annoyance becoming more prominent in his voice with every word he spoke.

"Meaning what exactly?" you prodded further. At this point, Minho was not sure if you were simply asking questions because of sheer confusion or to get on his nerves. It was a mix of both in reality; you could not deny the immense joy you felt from pushing Minho to his limits, yet you also could not fathom why he was so passionate about his stance on this guy.

"Meaning that I don't want you to see him anymore." Minho thought the response sounded better in his head. You widened your eyes once you heard it.

"Okay, so you're jealous and possessive." You moved your finger as you spoke as if you were making some sort of air-bullet list. Minho's mouth gaped slightly open and he sneered.

"Now I sound possessive? I'm really not, but sure, if you'd like to add that into your mix of ideas about me, too." Minho attempted to walk away from the conversation, but you grabbed his shirt sleeve to make him stay put.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" you asked for the nth time that night. Minho looked down at your hand's grasp on his shirt sleeve, then back up at you before scoffing once again, a smug smirk playing at his lips.

"You have not seen me being possessive at all, sweetheart," he remarked with a boldness present in his voice. "I don't want to get into this right now."

"And why is that?" The pure curiosity within you had vanished; now, the questions were purely to push Minho's buttons. You had already gotten him so far towards the edge, so what harm would an additional shove do?

"Because if I were being possessive, I would say, 'You're not going out with him again. I'm not letting him have you.' That is what I would want to say," Minho's sultry gaze bore into your own, and you felt your knees tremble slightly and your heart quicken its pace. You did not understand why you had began to feel this way, but it was exciting.

And you wanted more.

"Are you still insisting on this as a friend, Min?" As you uttered those words, you made an essentially bold move; you moved your hand from his shirt sleeve to his palm, nearly intertwining his hand with yours. The mere movement made Minho's breath hitch.

"Well, I, uh," Minho took a deep breath before continuing. "How much are you going to push me? If you asked me like that then you already have an idea, don't you?" He instinctly moved his thumb over your knuckles as he began his honest vouch. "You're right. I have been feeling jealous for a while now. I don't know when it started, but I am. Having to think about you and this guy going out has obviously only made it worse." Your gaze softened as you squeezed his hand.

"Why didn't you tell me, Min?"

"Because I didn't think I would care this much, so how was I supposed to tell you?" Minho genuinely asked this question, but you did not respond.

"So, is that all?" Minho scoffed at your returned question.

"Excuse me? Of course it's not," he stated like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "Do you really want to know what else I've been keeping to myself?" Before you realized what you were doing, your body took control over your mind, allowing your head to nod in agreement rapidly, earning a, "Are you sure about that?" from Minho.

"Are they," you began, feeling a slight tremble in your voice so you paused for a moment. "Are they about me?"

"Mhm. They're related to you. The things that I've wanted to do, thought about doing. It's more than I'm willing to say on its own," he responded casually, the chillness yet unintentionally seductive manner causing you to instinctively cross your legs and slightly rub them together.

"Don't say it then," you replied near instantly, an anxious hitch present in your voice. "Show me." Minho quirked an eyebrow, repeating your words to make sure he understood you correctly. He sighed deeply, almost longingly.

"If you insist, then fine. C'mere," he planted a firm hand on your upper back and pulled you impossibly close towards him. Before you could question his actions, his lips were on yours, kissing you like he had no time left in the world. You were shocked at first, but you quickly melted into the kiss, a few whimpers escaping from your mouth as the two of you embraced. After about thirty seconds, Minho pulled away, smiling at how swollen your lips appeared after such a short period of time.

"I like you," he stumbled over his words as he spoke. "More than I was ever planning to or ever supposed to." He accompanied his confession with a gentle caress of your cheek, a lazy grin accompanying his features. "Seeing you talk about that guy just made me realize how much it bothered me, and," he took a short stop, the light in his eyes morphing into an expression of lust, "if I could have my way with you...if I could do anything that I wanted, then I would keep you all to myself." The hand he had placed on your cheek shifted downward until it found purchase on your waist. Minho's words and subsequent actions had you feeling hot. Everywhere.

"Minho, I never expected you to be this way," you chuckled both out of astonishment and nervousness towards Lee Know's possessiveness.

"Yeah, I don't think you've ever seen how greedy of a person I can be," he responded with an anxious chortle of his own. "I tried to maintain being friends, and obviously I couldn't act like that, could I?" You shook your head, agreeing with his statement.

"Well, maybe I like the way you're acting right now," your hands placing themselves against his chest. You stood on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "Maybe I want to see that side of you." The reaction Minho felt from your words went straight down.

"Why?" he whispered in return, his own voice sounding like a whine rather than an octave.

"Because...there is a slight chance I feel the same way you do, and I am curious as to how far this side of you extends." Your hands had began to slide up and down Minho's chest, allowing him to release a soft groan.

"Alright then," he replied as both hands now softly grasped your waist. "If you were mine, then I would definitely be a lot closer than this." Once Minho stated this, he gently maneuvered the both of you back over the couch, softly laying you down and hovering over top of you. The heat within your body was growing, and your heart was pumping with adrenaline at the sight of your best friend on top of you.

You could not believe that this was reality.

"Probably this close would be more accurate," he added on with a cheeky smirk, although his heavy breaths contrasted the slyness of his attitude. He had one hand on your lower back and the other softly brushing over your left cheek. "I wouldn't be able to help myself from here though," he leaned down to the crook of your neck, just to where his lips were ghosting the lobe of your ear. "I would make sure everyone knows you're mine," he alluringly whispered as he moved your hair away from the skin of your neck. "Especially here to start," he murmured before diving down to kiss the exposed area. "The things you do to me," he muttered as he kissed, licked, and sucked love marks into your neck. You did your best to keep quiet; however, no matter your best efforts, a string of hearty whines fell from your lips with every sensual movement Lee Know performed.

It felt like Heaven on Earth.

Minho was setting a rhythm to his actions when he was crudely interrupted by yet another buzz from your cellphone. You instinctually moved to grab it, only to be met with Lee Know sighing in annoyance. He swiftly grasped your arm and pinned it down to your side.

"Stop," he commanded in a frustrated yet enduring tone. "Don't answer it. Look at me." He took his free hand and tilted your chin upwards, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He delved down once more, this time finding your lips rather than your neck. This time, he slipped his tongue past your lips and yours impulsively fought back for dominance, allowing you both to explore one another's mouths. One of your hands found residence in his soft brown locks of hair, tugging on them lightly and eliciting a few moans from his ends.

Yet, all good things must come to an end, it seems.

Another buzz came from your phone, causing both you and Minho to let out groans of irritation.

"Give me that," Minho demanded, outstretching his arm for you to hand your phone to him. You automatically did as he asked and placed your phone in his grasp, to which he put it on the head of the couch behind him, making it to where you could not reach it.

"You're done with him."

With that, Minho went back to kissing you as if his life depended on it, taking note of the equal fervor your kisses contained. Hands were roaming everywhere, lips were encapsulated with one another's, blood flow was pumping to the maximum. It felt perfect. Minho pulled away to catch a breath of air, slightly chuckling against your lips at your flushed state. You had not even been making out for five minutes, and you already appeared disheveled with your bangs sticking to your forehead and your eyes blown with a glint of need.

"You really wanted this, too, didn't you?" Minho quieried, concentrating on keeping his gaze focused on yours. You let out a quiet 'mhm' in response, causing Minho's brazen smirk to reappear. "Were you trying to get a reaction out of me? Just so I would take it this far?" Minho moved your sweaty strands of hair out of your face as he anticipated a response.

"I wasn't trying to at first, I promise," you riposted sounding entirely breathless, partially because you were. "But it just got so fun seeing you all worked up over me." This caused the both of you to giggle; although, the humor was swiftly overtaken by hunger as Minho scanned your body up and down.

"How about I get back to making sure everyone knows you aren't available, hm?" He did not alott time for a response before beginning to kiss your neck once again. "Fuck, you have such a pretty neck," he groaned as he began to resume his prior actions of sucking, biting, and kissing every exposed spot he could access. He continued his endeavors for a long time, only pausing when your moans became as high pitched as a shriek. He pulled away briefly, analyzing the spots in which he had just finished orally assaulting.

"What? Are you sensitive here?" he inquired, gently rubbing his thumb over the spot for emphasis.

"Y-yes, Min, oh my God," you moaned out, desperate to have him reattach his lips to your skin. As if he could read your mind, he did just what you desired, focusing intently on your sensitive spots and relishing in the strangled moans you released as he did so.

You had almost completely lost yourself in the moment until yet another buzz came from your cellphone. Minho released an agitated noise before pulling away from the love-mark he had just embellished upon your neck.

"What the fuck does this guy want?" He read over the text message you were sent, scoffing in response. "A little too late to be texting this now," he remarked and set your phone back on the upper couch cushion.

"What did he say, Min?" Minho leaned back down seemingly even closer than he was before and pressed a short kiss to your temple.

"Don't worry about it, Sweetheart," Minho answered. "You're not seeing him again, and even if he does run into you, I think he'll get the message when he sees these marks all over your neck." Minho accompanied his words by glancing down at your neck; where there was once a smooth skin tone now housed marks of red, purple, and pink, almost resembling some form of a darkened sunset.

"They're so pretty," he whispered as he ran his fingers gently over the blemished marks. "I like seeing proof of my work on you. I want to mark you all over your body," he confessed, instead opting to mark your lips with a kiss in that moment.

"Lift up your arms for me," Minho babbled against your lips. "These clothes are getting in the way." You did just as you were commanded and raised your arms above your head. Minho made quick work of the baby blue crop top you had chosen to wear that day, pulling it over your head and leaving you topless with the exception of your bra.

"C'mon, get it all off for me," he directed you in regards to your bra. You reached your hands behind your back, attempting to undo the impossible clasp of the material. Minho offered to aid your struggle; his larger hands quickly replaced yours, and he was able to undo your bra in one swift motion. He instantaneously groaned at the sight of you, topless, and made specifically for him. He had imagined this scenario over the span of countless, lonely nights; his imagination had underestimated the mere sight of you because here you lay, even more perfect than he could have ever pictured.

"Can I touch you, baby?" he asked you, his words sounding desperate and sensual.

"Please do," you squeaked out, grabbing one of his hands and guiding them to your left breast. Minho took control from there, fondling the one breast as his mouth went to appease the other. The pleasure that erupted in your body was indescribable by words, only becoming conveyed by the loud moans that bounced off of the living room walls; every flick of Minho's tongue over your right nipple, every brush of his thumb over the left, and every sensation you felt on your chest made you rub your thighs together, begging for some sort of sweet relief. Minho picked up on your needy movements; therefore, he released your breasts from his suction and gently placed your hands on them instead.

"Keep playing with your tits for me," he instructed, "while I help you out down here, yeah?" You nodded desperately, feeling slightly embarassed from what he was asking you to do, but you obliged nevertheless, attempting to mirror his movements from before.

Minho, on the other hand, was slowly making his way down to your waistline, kissing every surface of your body he could while doing so. He made it to the band of your light grey sweatpants, and he hooked his thumb under the hem of both them and your underwear, managing to pull both articles down simultaneously and discarding them somewhere on the living room floor.

"Fuck," was all he could manage to spew out as he took you in. Your physical beauty, your scent, the slick already coating you, every aspect of your core was absolutely intriguing to him; it only made his ferality grow.

"I want to taste you," he confessed, not daring to make any movements upon you until he had your full consent. "Can I?"

"Please!" you nearly screamed, praying desparately for him to have his way with you. With your approval, Minho wasted no time in pleasing you. He started with slow kitty licks to your clitoris, eventually switching to alternations between licking and sucking on the sensitive bud, allowing his tongue to drag itself a bit lower down your folds each time. You let out an agonizing sigh of relief, which made its way past your lips in the form of a moan.

"Oh my God, Minho," you whimpered. "Just like that, please!" You continued to beg and plead and whimper and whine the whole way through Minho's work upon you.

"Fuck, y/n, you taste so good," he vibrated against your core, causing shock waves to coarse throughout your lower half. As your moans began to pick up in pace and pitch, as did Minho's movements in speed. He sucked, licked, and hummed against you at a moderate rhythm, giving rise to your back arching and your hips bucking. You felt a knot began to tighten in your stomach just as Minho pulled away, removing his cool, metal rings from his right hand. He tenderly took hold of your dominant hand and placed it where his mouth just was.

"I want you to play with your clit while I finger you," he told you bluntly, causing your cheeks to flush slightly. He took notice of your unease and so added on, "Can you do that for me?" as a way to both ask for your consent and make sure you were in a stable mindset to do so.

"Yes," you hoarsely stammered, "I can." To prove it, you leisurely began to rub your clit in small circles, moaning at the return of pleasureful contact. Minho smirked at your actions.

"Good girl," he praised as he slowly inserted his middle finger inside of you, pumping the singular digit slowly in and out of your vagina, curling it in order to brush against that sweet spot inside of you. Your maneuvers on yourself began to falter slightly as he inserted his ring finger as well, quickening his pace as he did so. You made an attempt to stifle your wanton, continuous moans; after all, you hated being too loud, always fearing someone would walk in and catch you in the act. Yet, Minho was not standing for this.

"No no," he stated while making eye contact with you, "let me hear you, baby. Be loud for me. Moan for me" Just like that, any hesitation within your body vanished, and you let every noise held within your vocal chords escape. Moans, groans, whimpers, whines, and everything in between filled the thin walls of your apartment.

"Attagirl." Minho took your noises as encouragement and began pumping his fingers in and out of you faster, still managing to curl them at the opportune moments. You began to rub your clit in tempo-esque sync with Minho's fingers, both motions feeling inhumanely swift at this point.

"Min, I'm getting c-close," you mumbled out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten further and your brain only focusing on your release.

"Yeah, baby?" he cooed as his fingers rapidly brushed against your G-Spot. "Cum for me then, baby. I want you to cum all over my fingers. Can you do that for me?" He never broke eye contact with you as he asked this, not once.

"I, I can try," you replied, attempting to laugh the nervousness off, but it instead came out gargled.

"Hm, good girls do what they're told. You wanna be a good girl for me, right?" Minho inquired, moving his fingers back down to a moderate pace.

"Yes, yes, yes, I do!" you stumbled over your repetition. "'M your good girl." Minho chuckled at your adorable, mind-numb antics.

"Then cum all over for me," he repeated, working his fingers back up to the swift pace they had stalled from. "You can do it, I know you can, baby." The combined pleasure of Minho's fingers gracing your G-Spot and your fingers massaging your clit all became too overwhelming at once. You felt yourself coming undone, and as such, your hips began to stutter and your thighs began to shake as you came down from your high. Your hands flew to grasp at the slick leather of the couch as Minho's fingers helped you ride out your high.

"Good girl," Minho eulogized as he removed both digits from your entrance and inserted them into his mouth, licking them clean of your arousal. He climbed back over top of you and planted a kiss of adoration on your forehead.

"You did so well for me, pretty girl," he ran a hand through your hair as he smiled earnestly at you. Your brain was too numb to respond with verbage, so you instead sat up and kissed Minho with more passion than you previously had. "That's my girl," he mumbled against your lips. You mustered up enough strength to push Minho on his back, his hands instantly crawling up to squeeze the plush of your ass.

"Your turn," you tiredly stated, causing a chuckle to escape Lee Know's mouth. He encapsulated you in yet another kiss as your hands traveled down to his black, ripped jeans. You quickly found the zipper, unzipping his pants while simultaneously, yet unintentionally, palming his erection and eliciting a needy groan from him. With a bit of help from him, you shimmied his jeans and his boxers down, allowing his cock to spring free from its prior restraint. You took his shirt off of him just as fast, leaving both of you bare in front of one another.

"C'mere," he commanded, moving you forward on his lap to the point in which you were straddling him as he was sitting up. "Spread those legs for me." You shifted your position to where you were doing just that, giving him enough room to push up into you comfortably. "There you go," he praised before softly gripping your chin and pulling you into a brief yet fiery kiss.

"Look at me," Minho adjured you. "I don't want to miss a second of this pretty face." The compliment caused you to go red once more, making Minho in turn giggle. "Are you ready?" he asked before going forward.

"Yes, I have been, please, Min," you were not even sure what you were begging for, but Minho found it adorable nevertheless.

"Please what, baby?"

"Please fuck me."

Minho could not help but smirk at your bold comment as if to say, 'As you wish.' He adjusted his dick to align with your entrance and slowly but surely, inch by inch pushed himself inside of you. The stretch you felt from the endeavor was painful, yet delicious, and both you and Minho groaned from the feeling of one another's arousal. Minho was still for a minute, allowing for you to adjust to his length. Without warning, you began to slowly bounce on his length, taking Lee Know completely by surprise. Moans quickly refilled the apartment air, this time coming from both parties.

"Thereee you go," Minho groaned out as you continued your movements, his hands bracing themselves on your hips both to steady you and to keep himself in tact. "Move those hips for me baby."

A plethora of praises began to feel the air as you sped up your movements on Minho's cock, consisting of, 'That's it, baby,' 'Keep doing that,' and the ever so common, 'Yes, yes, yes!' along with multiple swears that adorned the vicinity. All reasonable judgment had left the area, with both you and Minho becoming concerned with each other's pleasure ass moans and movements began to become more frequent.

This statement only proved its factuality as Minho heard a buzzing sound coming from behind him. Your movements began to slow down as you heard it too; of course, it was your phone that was responsible. Minho grabbed your phone and scoffed, a sly, 'fuck,' falling from his lips as he read the caller ID.

"Look who it is again," he laughed sarcastically, showing you the phone screen as you continued your dulled thrusts. "And he's calling this time." Minho pondered for a moment before an idea came into his head. Amidst the noises of skin slapping, he asked you, "Should I answer it?" Your face instantly contorted into an expression of worry and anxiety.

"No, no, Min. D-don't answer it," you stammered out in a mix of breathlessness and fret.

"Are you sure? I think he's g-getting kind of worried," Minho retorted, the cockiness evident in his tone. Despite your wishes, he picked up the call.

"Hello?" Almost instantaneously, you clenched around Minho, both out of worry and exhileration. It was an anxiety-stricken situation, that was for certain; however, something about the confidence Minho exerted in that moment turned you on, so much so to the point where you accidentally let out a high pitched moan.

"Shh," Minho held a hand over your mouth, holding the phone away from you both. "You don't want him to hear you moaning like this, do you?" You shook your head no as Minho smirked and brought your phone back to his ear. "Sorry, what was that? Yeah, she's busy with me right now, but if you want me to leave a message for you, I can. You sure? Alright, no problem. Take care, man." Minho finally hung up the phone. "I think he got the message."

Although you could not hear the other end of the conversation, you were almost positive the guy could ear the lewd noises coming from your side of the receiver. It should have embarrassed you to no end, but it only made your eroticism grow. As such, you bounced harder and faster on Minho's cock, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure and release a string of swears.

"Fuck, baby. You were squeezing me so tightly while I was on the phone," he remarked about the gesture you had hoped he had not tooken notice of. "Were you that nervous or was it that," he stopped his interrogation to caputre you in yet again another passionate kiss, "you liked it? Hm?"

You could not bring yourself to answer him verbally, instead allowing moan upon moan to be uttered. Minho did not mind, however, instead allowing the both of you to become lost within your pleasure. With the pace you had set for the occasion, it was not long until you found yourself nearing a second orgasm, and from the way Minho's hips had began to stutter against your own and his whines becoming more high pitched, you figured it was the same case for him. He proved you correct moments later.

"Close, 'M close," he repeated several times over. "Keep going. Just like that for me, yeah?" His hands grasped your hips, aiding you in swiftening your movements on his cock, bouncing faster than you had ever been able to manage before. "Where baby? Where do you want me to cum?"

"Inside," you replied without hesitation. Your answer surprised Minho initially, but it quickly morphed into excitement. Minho felt his orgasm creeping up on him, so he buried his head into the crook of your neck, thrusting his hips into your own as he quickly tried to bring himself to release.

You, on the other hand, felt yourself already coming undone once more, and Minho's additional thrusts were the straws that broke the camel's back. You saw stars as your second orgasm hit, feeling more intense than the first by a longshot. The sight itself alone was enough to arouse Minho to completion, and he let himself go, realising thick white ropes of cum inside of you and groaning immensely while doing so.

As both of you came down from your respective highs, you laid your head on Minho's chest, your breathing heavy and your blood pumping. Minho held you close to him, not wanting to let you go in that moment.

"Damn," he finally broke the silence with a chuckle. He lifted your head up towards him, muttering a, 'c'mere' as he brought you in for a kiss, this one much less intense than the ones prior.

"You did so well, baby," he rubbed your arms as he spoke. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," was all you could mumble against him. You somehow felt weak yet on Cloud 9 at the same time. It was a weird feeling, but exhilerating none the less. You attempted to lift yourself off of Minho, but the boy's strong arms kept you held down.

"Let's just stay like this for a little while, yeah?" You nodded, bringing yourself to lie down on top of Minho. "Are you alright, Princess?"

"Mhm," you sleepily mumbled. "You?"

"Well, I didn't expect to be doing this tonight, but yes. I am great." Minho looked up at the sight of you: your hair stuck to your forehead once more, beads of sweat cascaded like waterfalls down your body, and you were ninety-nine percent sure your makeup was running. Yet, Minho thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he vocalized it.

"I look like the personified spawn of Satan right now, Minho." Minho could not help but burst into a fit of laughter at your words.

"You're always beautiful to me," he retorted. You smiled down at him, feeling yourself doze off in his arms, but not before he muttered one more thing:

"So, no more of him then, right?"

460 notes · View notes