127moon

[127moon]

https://www.xvideos.com/video56382593/pornfidelity_davina_davis_divine_ass

[127moon]

˗ˋˏ YUCK! ˎˊ˗ | 18+ Only (Part One)

synopsis: how can you remain friends with benefits with someone who turns his plushies around during sex, pouts when you don't kiss him goodbye, and spends his time occupying your mind?

pairing: lsm x yn (gn afab)

genre: fluff, romance | pwp, smut

tags: food, character is drunk in a flashback, cursing, domesticity, fwb, sexual innuendos, university au | car sex, degradation/dumbification, dirty talk, exhibitionism, fingering, games, pet names, switch dk/reader, spitting, pnv, unprotected sex

wc: 7.62k

a/n: some grumpy x sunshine dynamics inspired by my favorite song off charli's crash album. deciding to drop this fic in 2 parts instead of one bc the length of this vs my old laptop is e***** my a**. I literally had to delete the sims 😔 kind of excited and scared bc this is my first fic on this blog so comments are deeply appreciated -nu ♡

lipglossjun's masterlist

Bare legs intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, DK brings his head closer to yours so that your noses are only a few centimeters apart. He whispers good morning and gently kisses you on the forehead. However, instead of greeting him back, you decide to ruin an otherwise sweet and heartfelt moment by reaching above your head for the closest thing you can find and slamming it onto his body.

“Stop being cheesy. You can’t ‘Good Morning’ me after sex,” you grumble, turning your body away from his.

DK’s large and deformed bumblebee plush he frequently uses as a backrest bounces off his body and plops onto the cold tiled floor where it joins a menagerie of different plushies and discarded clothing items. DK doesn’t do anything in retaliation and only snuggles into your back, wraps his arm around your side, and pulls you closer to him.

“Fuck aftercare. I’m still horny,” he mumbles into your neck while leaving warm kisses on your shoulder. He moves his right arm to your hips and massages your waist with his thumb, pressing deeply and drawing circles into your skin.

The action is enough to make you think about going another round with him, but the scattered sounds of metal doors opening and closing in the distance tell you that it’s almost time for your morning class. You reach to the side to grab your phone from his nightstand to double-check the time. There’s a text from your friend who lets you know he has your lab coat. There’s a follow-up text from him telling you to stop fucking DK so that you don’t get a grade docked for missing lab. As much as you want to laze in bed with DK, you detangle yourself from him and sit up. He whines at the lack of warmth, but you ignore him and make your way to his private bathroom where your overnight bag hangs on one of the metal door hooks.

You can still hear him whining about his horniness as your hand reaches for the toilet paper roll beside you. Not wanting him to continue complaining, you tell him very loudly that you are peeing. You hope it’s enough to get him to leave you alone. At the same time, you hope your voice doesn’t travel through the bathroom vent duct to the other dormitory restrooms.

His whining stops.

You think he’s starting his usual clean-up routine, plugging in his white shell-shaped socket air freshener – the same linen scented one he bought once and then over and over again simply because you complimented it once in passing. He would pick up all of the fallen stuffed animals he’s collected over the years, probably apologizing to them one by one for dropping them and for having sex in front of them. It’s just who he is, and you never understood how you became friends with someone like him in the first place.

You’re blunt, a no-bullshit kind of person. If Eeyore and Squidward had a baby, that baby would be you. So, usually, people like Dokyeom would piss you off. Dokyeom is the type of person who wakes up as refreshed as the type of people in those instant coffee commercials after they have had their morning cup of dark roast. He’s bright and bubbly and too kind for his own good. He’s stopped many roommate disputes simply by tearing up while listening to his “children” – as he likes to refer to them – argue in front of him. He can’t walk to class without waving at or bumping into somebody he knows. Hanging out with people like DK sucks the energy out of you, but DK's miraculously somehow your friend.

Also, part of you knows you lucked out when you became friends with benefits with a dormitory resident advisor a few months ago. It’s convenient for the both of you – because of his single bed and bath suite, you always have a place to stay if you are still on campus late at night. Both of you two never need to worry about being too loud because his room is basically soundproof. However, that luck also meant having a partner who doesn’t understand his boundaries, has an overtly positive mindset, and treats and takes care of you like you are one of his Freshman residents.

“I swear if I get a UTI…” you mumble to yourself while you lock your phone and place it on the sink counter before you wipe. You make a mental note that you still have a few minutes before you have to head to your morning class or else you would be way too late.

When you leave his bathroom, you see he’s making his bed. The resident advisor is fully dressed and happily fluffs his pillows as if you didn’t use them to stifle his moans while riding him just a few minutes ago – not because he was too loud, but because it was seven in the morning and all you wanted to do was fuck. As you predicted, his stuffed animals are all back in place, including the ones that toppled onto his floor. The air freshener is plugged into the socket with its intensity on the highest setting. His curtains are pulled open, and the calm morning breeze gently brushes against the bright green string of pearls plant sitting on his windowsill. In his trashcan under his desk is the tied and disposed of used condom tastefully covered by empty snack wrappers and dirty lint roller sheets. It’s like he lives a double life – one that only you know and one that only his residents know.

You find a small water bottle and a granola bar on your backpack that you left on his desk chair when you arrived last night. Confused, you point at the items and turn to the man sitting on his bed. There is a big dumb smile plastered on his face despite you looking at him with a blank expression.

“What’s this?” you move the water and snack onto his desk so you can swing your backpack over your shoulder. You lean over his wooden desk to double-check and fix your hair in his table mirror.

“Some snacks,” he sings while reaching over to pull a stuffed animal onto his lap. It’s the one he often hugs when he sleeps alone. “You didn’t eat this morning,” he pouts.

“What did I say about not needing to be taken care of?” You frown while grabbing the water bottle and hesitate while looking at the bar you put on his tidy desk. “I hate granola,” you grumble, but you decide to pocket the bar before leaving.

He grabs the paw of the large brown bear he’s cuddling and uses it to wave goodbye, “Study hard.”

You flip him off before closing his large metal dormitory door behind you. His keypad whirs and clicks its automatic lock into place, and you make your way to the hallway elevators.

With each navy blue carpeted step you take towards the dormitory elevator, the wrapped granola bar crinkles annoyingly in your sweats pocket. The more you’re aware of the crinkling, the louder it rings in your ear – and it’s driving you insane. You hate the awful bright green dormitory doors, the sound of the foil wrapper, and the way DK tries to take care of you when all you want is sex. Sure, you can’t say you’re not attracted to him. You’re not the type to be friends with benefits with somebody you don’t have an emotional connection with. Yet, the man doesn’t even have a car. How can he take care of you if he can’t even drive on the freeway? To you, friends with benefits is like a drive-thru – you enter, you exchange for goods, and you exit. For a man without a car, the concept of his drive-thru just seems abstruse.

Even more annoying is DK’s stupid laminated smiling face stapled onto his large classroom bulletin board. DK’s face stares you down front and center while you wait for the elevator to stop on your floor. Below his face are hand-cut expensive cardstock letters shaped in a wavy curve spelling out A Baa-ginner’s Guide to Sleep. Under the title are several large sheep with sleeping facts glued to their centers that leap across a fence in a green pasture. You doubt anybody really pays attention to his bulletin board, but you quickly read through the facts on each sheep to pass the time while you wait for the elevator to arrive on your floor.

On the right side of the bulletin board is a tiny suggestion box nailed to the wall with a washable marker attached to the side of the box. You decide to uncap the black marker and quickly draw facial hair on DK’s face. You think he wouldn’t mind the hair – it’s nothing compared to the number of phallic pictures he had to erase on the whiteboard on his door the first month of school. If anything, he could wipe it off whenever he wanted. You cap the marker and look at his fresh goatee. The corner of your lips turns upwards and then quickly falls back to its resting position.

Your phone in your other pocket coincidentally buzzes when the elevator dings. You pull out your phone while stepping into the empty elevator and press the elevator button for the first floor. You see it’s a text from DK. He sent you a selfie of him and the same brown bear plush he was cuddling earlier. He wants you to know he’s still horny, but he misses you. A lot.

You sigh and unhook your backpack from your shoulder so you can access the front pocket of your backpack. The elevator stops at the floor below you, and you make your way to the side to let other students onto the elevator.

The weather is finally nice outside after a week of consistent fog and overcast skies, so you thought it would be a great idea to study together under the sun. However, about half an hour into studying, Jun is about twenty chapters into a webcomic on his phone, Chan is busy flicking stray ants off the thin bedsheet, and you are about to resort to using ideas from your 2014 costume party Pinterest board you archived into the depths of hell a few years ago.

“It’s giving either pick me or middle school boy whose entire personality is him being a class clown,” Chan says while laying back down on the makeshift picnic blanket you made from an old yellow bedsheet you pulled from your closet. He crosses his arms under his head for support.

Jun grabs the laptop from Chan’s lap and clicks through the options you’ve opened in your different tabs. He squints his eyes at the screen and winces at every single one while he drags his finger across your touchpad, wishing he never saw your options. He shakes his head and pushes your laptop back to you, immediately going back to scrolling on his phone.

You take back your laptop from Jun and frown while clicking on your different open tabs to peruse your options again. You thought it would be funny if you wore the themed costume you were currently going for, but your friends think it’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever come up with – and you’ve come up with a ton of stupid ideas in the past. But you couldn’t see how this simple costume gives off a “pick me” vibe.

“I just think it’d be funny,” you grumble while closing your current tabs to look for more options.

You’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging out with DK more than usual. Sometimes it wasn’t even to hook up with him. You would stay at his place to study for midterms, and the two of you would often end up having dinner or breakfast together. You’ve been in the dorms for so long that his residents often mistake you for another resident. But it’s true, DK is only a friend – albeit one who’s starting to grow on you – but he’s only a friend. What’s the use in trying to find a costume that he would laugh at anyway?

“What did I tell you? You can’t just be friends with benefits with somebody like DK. People like him want long relationships. They like holding hands while walking. They like sending goodnight texts with a cute moving sticker from a sticker pack they paid for attached to it. They consider taking you home to their parents as a date,” Chan quickly sits up to try to see your laptop screen, but immediately lays back down when his vision gets blurry. He uses it as an excuse to skip the gym today.

“You, on the other hand,” Chan turns to his side so he can see you more clearly, “just want his dick in you.”

The other friend tries to stifle his laughter after hearing the word “dick.” You groan and push Chan’s chest, causing him to fall flat on his back again. Although you have to admit, you don’t disagree with him. Getting dicked down by your friend after meeting up with him to try new dessert places he found on Instagram is an amazing experience. You could taste the remnants of his frozen yogurt flavor on his tongue while he kisses you after eating you out. Visiting new places and hooking up afterward? It’s like an extended BOGO deal that doesn’t seem to have an expiry date.

“You say that like wanting dick is a bad thing,” the other friend, Jun, who swapped his phone for your backpack, opens the front pocket to look for something fun to play with or eat that would better interest him.

He pulls out the granola bar you shoved in your backpack that sat untouched since DK gave it to you. He quickly reads the label to look at the flavor and decides to pocket the bar.

“No,” you tell him when you hear the familiar crinkle of the foil wrapper. You reach over to snatch your backpack and your granola bar back from your friend. “It’s mine,” you emphasized.

“You don’t even like those,” Jun grumbles while leaning his elbow on his knee. He huffs very loudly, making it very obvious he is sad he wasn’t able to take the snack for himself.

You roll your eyes and launch the granola bar straight at his chest. It hits him with a hollow-sounding thunk and lands on his lap. Bullseye.

“Jesus,” Chan exclaims, now sitting up. He points at the poor boy who is rubbing the sore spot on his chest with a smile on his face, “What’s with you and chests?”

You shrug, your face void of any expression. You were more of an arm person.

“But going back to Yn and DK, I honestly don’t see anything wrong with them. They’re just friends who hook up,” Jun, who is completely fine, tears the corner of the foil wrapper and pulls it downwards. He moves the remaining end that covers the sticky bar to the side, revealing the snack that lost its original shape after being tumbled and bumped in your backpack. “My last friends with benefits hated my guts. We had absolutely nothing in common too. I literally had to fuck in silence because if we talked, we would only fight. But it only lasted a while because they were only visiting the area, but damn, I definitely wouldn’t do it again.”

He takes a bite of his granola bar.

“Hate fucking can make you grow stress acne,” he casually adds while his mouth is full.

The two of you turn to him in surprise, never knowing about his revelation despite years of being friends. Jun shrugs, unbothered by your expressions, and continues to snack.

“What? I like getting my dick sucked,” he nonchalantly tells the two of you. A tiny piece of oat flies out of his mouth and onto the blanket. You flick it away before the ants can get to it, but Jun doesn’t seem to notice and continues to talk, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Crumbs fall out of his mouth while he speaks with his mouth full. Only after he finishes his sentence does he take time to swallow his mouthful and shove the remainder of the bar into his mouth. He swats the crumbs off the blanket and his clothes and crumples the wrapper, looking around for the nearest trashcan.

His eyes land on a group of people moving carts and setting up for an event in the distance. He could recognize the outfits anywhere from the navy blue polo with the university crest embroidered on the left chest to the regulated sand-colored khakis every worker has to wear. He’s seen someone wear that uniform more often than he would have liked. Every time he complains about how ugly the polyester polos look, his friend who regularly wears the uniform only laughs at him and waves goodbye. 

Why would RA’s need to wear sports wick fabric? Jun thinks to himself. Do they get sweaty from doing dormitory checks at midnight? 

You notice Jun silently frowning at something in the distance instead of getting up to throw away his trash. You turn your body to look at who he’s frowning at, and you see a bunch of students setting up for some university event later in the afternoon. Your eyes land on a familiar silhouette who carries a clipboard in his left hand while pointing at different places to tell his coworkers where to place the different banners and tables. You know it’s him from the crisp khaki pants he refuses to stain to the way he carries himself – the bounce in his step and the way his open hand always falls onto the shoulder of the person next to him to use as support while he’s laughing.

He’s the same person who’s too kind for his own good. You think about the time you went shopping at the mall with him and how he couldn’t bring himself to decline the offer of getting a free scrub from the skincare kiosk. You had to stare down the man into applying the product on the back of DK’s arm, but even then, DK spent the next week rubbing medical-grade hydrocortisone cream on his rash without complaining. DK still wonders about where the man is every time he visits the mall to this day. On the other hand, you would never admit to secretly taking matters into your own hand by writing angrily worded reviews on their Google page under Chan’s abandoned elementary school email he uses to sign up for free trials.

“You’re drooling for a man in khakis,” Chan suddenly disrupts your thoughts. “Check yourself.”

You blink your eyes and look around you. Jun is already long gone, Jun's trash tossed in a trashcan. Now, he’s leaning against a tree while chatting up a poor girl who wanted to read her novel in peace. The funny thing is, he seems to be doing pretty well.

Chan, who doesn’t want both you and Jun to go to the party with a date, excuses himself so he could leave to annoy and embarrass Jun. He thinks if he has to go to the party alone, then he’s dragging one of you down with him. In this case, it’s Jun.

Your mind wanders back to the costume party. You can’t do a couple’s costume because one, you and DK are not a couple; and two, DK always shows up as a slutty fireman. It was his thing. He would show up to parties already a little tipsy from pregaming. He would hug a liter bottle of chase in one arm and have a coiled prop hose hanging from his shoulder on the opposite side. His firefighter costume would hang from his waist while DK walks around dapping up his friends in a white sleeveless cotton tank with streaks of grey ash. And the drunker he gets, the more lopsided his firefighter helmet sits on his head, eventually falling off when he crashes on the couch.

To Jun, dressing up as a firefighter is probably one of the sluttiest things DK could ever do. The first is respecting women. You’re number six on Jun’s list.

Someone comes up behind you from where you’re sitting and holds a cold water bottle in front of your face. He turns it upside down and quickly flicks it upright so the water inside the bottle whirls around in a whirlpool.

“Water tornado,” DK laughs while twisting open the white cap and handing the plastic bottle to you.  

His lame party trick makes you snort. Instead of complaining about already having your own iced water, you gladly accept his water. You put the cap back on and put it on top of your backpack knowing very well that his booth would be selling refreshments for triple its wholesale value.

He sits next to you on the bedsheet that’s slightly damp from touching the grass. He stretches his legs across the blanket and makes himself comfortable by laying on his back. He asks you where Chan and Jun are, and you point at the two of them pushing each other in front of the girl. You stare at them in defeat.

“Poor girl,” he tsks.

He moves his head onto your lap and you hover your hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun. He quietly stares at you while you use your other hand to open your university login page on your laptop, not really paying attention to him.

Just then, someone calls for DK from the event area. DK immediately sits up but accidentally slams his forehead into your palm. You let out a soft laugh, and he playfully glares at you.

How dumb.

“Just saying ‘hi’ to a friend,” he yells back.

A friend.

“Give me a kiss before I leave?”

“No,” you frown at him while looking away. You were trying to get him to go back to work. It also wasn’t like you called him over. Albeit there is a part of you that is the tiniest bit of upset after hearing DK call you his friend so easily. How dumb of you.

He pouts but gently squeezes your shoulder before he jogs back to where he was setting up.

In the distance, Jun and Chan sigh while they pull out their phones to transfer money into the hammock girl’s bank account. Hammock girl bet that he wouldn’t kiss you even if nobody was near the two of you. She was right. Although, the three of them could agree that a shoulder squeeze is just sad.

He giggles when he sees your face contort in disgust after he holds the body wash under your nose, squeezing it gently so you can smell the scent. He takes it back and flips the cap closed before putting it back on the store shelf. He takes the bottle from your hand when it’s your turn to pass him your pick, but he quickly passes it back to you after he smells the scent. He shakes his head “no.”

“You don’t like this one?” you cap the bottle and place it back where it belongs. You thought the scent was fine with you.

“It’s too sweet,” DK reads the label on another product, “I feel like it would attract ants.” He shudders at the idea of a line of ants trailing in his bathroom but continues to swing his shopping basket by his side while he browses the bath products aisle.

You don’t know how DK managed to convince you to drive him to the retail store and help him with his next bulletin board design. You think it’s because he knows you drew the mustache on his face, but he suggested you shop with him for a body wash that you would also prefer using because you’ve been staying over at his place more often. You were going to decline his suggestion, but you remembered you were almost out of trash bags and condoms for your place. Because there were only so many times you could visit the health center free condom bowl without becoming one of their regulars, you agreed to his request.

Yet here you are, trailing closely behind DK under the bright fluorescent store lights where the first bottle on mostly every shelf is just a little crooked. The two of you have spent the last few minutes trying to find a scent that works for both of you. To be honest, you couldn’t care less about the fragrance he chooses, but he insists on finding the perfect one – stressing the “t” in “perfect” to the point where it came out of his mouth in a clicking sound. You were more or less focused on how his bicep bulges the heavier his basket gets – practically drooling when his rolled shirt sleeve pushes up just a little whenever his arm automatically flexes every time he adds an item to his basket. You hope he thinks you’re staying quiet because your nose is congested from smelling all of the products and not because you’ve been staring at his arms the entire time.

He taps you on your shoulder when you’re skimming the ingredient list of a 3-in-1, and you look over to see him smiling widely at you as he holds a slim opaque bottle in his hand. 

When you smell the body wash he holds under your nose, you give him a tiny nod in agreement. He immediately caps the bottle, drops it in his basket, and heads toward his next destination. The bottle rolls over in the red basket, and you briefly see the scent name while you trail behind its future owner. Its scent fits the man humming in front of you perfectly, and you can’t deny that you’re quite fond of it yourself. You decide to grab one for your place before catching up to him.

.

About half an hour later, you’re still staring at his arms while he reaches up the grab the hood of your car trunk to slam it shut after helping load the shopping bags. He seems to notice you staring as he wastes time by looking into his tote bag, pretending to look for something.

You hate him, that little minx. Of course, he knows you’re staring at him. He knows exactly how you’re feeling. He didn’t purposely press against you while reaching up for items on higher shelves for nothing. The t-shirt he’s wearing? It’s a size too small, but by god do you think it fits so tightly and so well around his body.

Between stressing about midterms and working on top of taking classes with a full-time course load, your sex drive has been out of sync with how it used to be. You and DK haven’t had proper sex in a while, and you’ve been caught thinking about sex during geology lab (out of all places). Jun was pretty sure you were harder than all of the rocks on the lab table. If one more sex scenario came into your mind, you were pretty sure a diamond would fall out of you the next time you open your legs.

DK knows how to push your buttons and rile you up – subtly and in multiplicities. But in your favorite retail store? Where you go to de-stress and bask in the free air conditioning? The same one that welcomes you with the scent of fresh buttery popcorn when you walk through its large revolving doors? Leave it to DK to ruin the one good thing you had going for you, but if you’re going to fuck DK in your car, then you are going to make him pay for it in the process.

When you shut your car door, the hanging pine tree shaped air freshener clacks with the acrylic figurine keychain Chan brought back for you when he visited Japan during the winter. DK is sitting in the middle seat in the backseat of your manual, already visibly hard and palming himself. He grabs your hand while you move towards him to straddle his lap. Your knees sink into the cushions on the sides of his thighs, and you grind yourself on his arousal, feeling him grow harder and harder under you – days of pent up stress immediately leaving your body. He places his hands on your hips, guiding your movements, groaning when you find your pace – feeling the pool of arousal between your legs leak onto his crotch.

You grab his chin, thumb stroking the stubble along his jaw. He looks back at you with his big dark eyes, and your head dips so your lips can meet his. Your lips are hard and impatient as yours collides against his over and over – mouths working in tandem as he matches your pace and fervor as you continue to grind against him, digging your hips deeper into him when your back arches. You can’t help but smile against his lips and he moans in response, against your mouth. You fill the tiny opening by taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging and running your tongue against his lip.

However, he pulls back to catch his breath. His hands have traveled to your ass, and he asks you in the most innocent tone while kneading them between his fingers, “But what about the cars waiting for us?”

You roll your eyes and verbally scoff at him. You point his chin upwards so he’s looking up at you. He gulps while you stare at him, your eyes burning holes into his eyes. He knows you’re mad. But his dick twitches in excitement just thinking about how you’re going to punish him.

“Don’t play dumb with me fucking slut,” the way you jeer at him sends shivers down his spine. He looks up at you with glassy eyes, staying silent while you continue to berate him. “What? Purposely riling me up and then playing innocent when you think about a car waiting for us?”

He continues to stay silent while his breathing gets harder. He can feel his pre-cum leaking out of his dick, wanting desperately for you to sink down on him.

You tilt his chin to the side so you can whisper in his ear, “I’m going to make them watch you fall apart under me until they forget why they’re waiting for us in the first place. You understand?”

He nods his head quickly, thinking about how hot you look at that moment. You reach down to stroke his arousal with your other hand still secured around his chin. He whimpers at the feeling of your hand around him, eager to do anything you tell him to.

“What was the theme that you came up with for your bulletin board?” you pout at him, faking innocence. Of course you knew his theme. It’s all he’s been talking about since you picked him up from school. The concept is a little abstract, but you don’t push him because it’s not your board in the first place. You remove your hand from his chin and slowly trace it down his chest while looking at him with playful eyes.

“S-Simon says,” he hiccups as you unbutton his pants. He bites his lip when you reach his hard-on.

You see he’s red, hard, and throbbing in the palm of your hand. There’s enough pre-cum to drip down the sides of your fingers. You languidly stroke him, relieving some of the tension built up in his stomach. He hisses in response, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Simon says to tell me what you’re thinking.”

DK draws in an unsteady breath and groans while you continue stroking him up and down, slowly adding speed. “I’ve been so horny,” he breathes. “I think about you at night. How you’ll kneel in front of me, naked, and in between my legs. How you’ll slowly kiss up my thighs, leaving wet kisses the way I like them while spreading my thighs apart because you always treat me s-so well no matter how b-bad I’ve been,” he babbles while gripping onto your shoulders, anything that he can grip onto his vicinity.

You rub your thumb over his smooth head while he spreads his thighs a little wider in his seat. You feel your core begin to throb when you hear him shamelessly groan, the sound alone stimulating you further. However, you try to keep your composure while he’s literally in the palm of your hand. 

“And…” he trails off for a bit, turning his head and not meeting your eyes. You see the tips of his ears glow bright red as he tries to avoid your stare. “I had wet dreams about you spitting in my mouth,” he mumbles while trying to hide from you despite the fact that you’re still sitting on his lap. 

The mere thought of spitting into Dokyeom’s mouth continues to feed the flame burning inside of you, so you decide to continue your game with him.

“What was that hmm?” you dip your head so that you’re hovering right above his lips. He has nowhere to turn except to face you. And when he does, you can tell his eyes are frantically darting between your eyes and your lips. You’re close enough to him to feel his breath on your lips, how his breath hitches as you continue to build his high. “What did you want me to do to you?”

He quickly shakes his head and looks up at you as if to tell you he’s being a good boy by playing the game by the rules. You didn’t say “Simon Says” before your last question. You smile and nod at him while slowly pulling your shorts and panties down, placing yourself on top of his dick. He whimpers upon contact.

You trace him along the inside of your soaked folds, and he immediately bucks under your lap. He’s sweating and very close to becoming overstimulated at this point, but he’s surprisingly enjoying it.

“Simon Says to tell you what you want Simon to do to you,” you taunt him calmly. You align him at your entrance while keeping eye contact with him.

“Please...” he mewls, so desperate that he can’t even properly tell you what he wants. It’s frustrating, and he’s frustrated. He throws a mini fit by huffing after pleading. 

“Please what?” you kiss along his jawline while he tries rutting up into you. “Did my dumb slut forget how to speak?”

You frown at his action and lift yourself higher so he can’t reach you. You cock an eyebrow at him, trying to get him to tell you want he wants you to do to him. Because, fuck, even you were getting desperate at this point (even though it is mostly your fault for prolonging it for so long).

He finally fesses, “P-Please fuck me so hard that your car ah–”

So caught up with everything, you forget about his size, and loudly moan while you bottom out on him, immediately clinging onto him while you bury your face in his neck. He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, but he lets out a choked scream as he feels you take all of him so well and so quickly. He feels so tight, so full in you. It reminds you about how much you needed him in you these past few days. He curses under his breath, automatically pulling you into him. He kisses you with so much ardor, running his tongue around yours, that you temporarily forget that you’re only friends.

His large hands find their way to your ass again, sizing you up and guiding it up and down over and over again, making you bounce up and down on him. He groans out loud while he drowns in the feeling of him stretching you open and you clenching tightly around him, hearing the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs. You feel so good around him, a lot tighter than usual that he has to stop himself from coming immediately. His lips temporarily leave yours with a thin line of saliva still webbed between your mouths when he breaks your kiss. You take the chance to tell him to open his mouth wide, and he quickly obeys. You grab a fistful of his hair and pull it backward. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and you spit on his extended tongue, watching the transparent liquid slowly slide down his tongue. He swallows it and sticks his tongue out again, begging for more.

“Aww,” you coo at him while he tugs on your shirt, a little habit of his when he’s needy but too fucked out to verbally beg. “Dumb baby. Did you forget you’re still being punished?”

You lift yourself from him so that only his tip remains in you. He tries angling his hips so he can be in you again, but you only shake your head at him while trapping his waist between your knees. At this point, he can only whine your name. Your name escapes his mouth in a high-pitched rasp, slowly removing one of his hands from your ass to knead himself. He slowly rolls his balls between his fingers, tugging and releasing the prettiest moans while you watch him slowly get off by himself.

“Fine. Go ahead,” you remove yourself from his lap when you realize what he’s doing. You sit on the seat beside him while you watch him touch himself despite your pussy aching without his touch. “I was going to ask you to choose between me spitting in my dumb whore’s mouth again or ride him to completion, but it seems like he doesn’t need me anymore.”

He pauses what he’s doing to look at you with big glossy eyes. His face is hot and flushed, and you can still smell his musky scent from where you’re sitting. You almost cave when you see him look at you, your heart fluttering a little. No matter how much you love playing with DK, you will have to admit that you have such a soft spot for him. He reaches over to tug your shirt sleeve, but you only shake him off. You can’t allow yourself to swallow your pride no matter how much you want to baby him.

You think he’s going to beg for you to forgive him, but he does the complete opposite. He takes matters into his own hands by leaning over you despite the cramped space. He spreads your legs while he leans in between them.

“What are you doing?” you gulp.

He hovers his hand over your core and looks at you. You immediately nod, and he rubs your nub with his thumb, slowly inserting his ring finger in your cunt. He hooks it at the right spot, immediately making you buck against his hand in response.

“A- Ah. Baby please,” you mewl at him, begging for him to pump his finger. When he only stares at you, enjoying watching you beg underneath him as you fuck yourself on his finger repeatedly, your pride thrown out the window.

“I’m not even moving my finger and I can feel you creaming around it,” he smirks while tapping the inside of you by hooking and unhooking his finger, causing the coil in you to snap as you wail his name while riding out your orgasm.

Now it’s his turn to cock his head in amusement while he watches you desperately cling onto his arm as you continue to come on his single finger. Your eyes are squeezed shut, and your mouth can’t help but hang open while he inserts another long finger into you while you’re trembling under his touch. He continues to rub your nub in figure eights while he slowly scissors your aching and swollen cunt, knowing you’re about to cum again based on how tightly you’re clenched around his fingers, calling out and mindlessly babbling his name over and over again like it’s the only word in your vocabulary.

He feels your juices leak onto his fingers and he pulls them out of you just before your climax hits, holding it up to the large rearview window to see them well-coated with your slick and glistening in the sun. He brings the same fingers into his mouth and licks them clean when he sees a customer walking past the car. He shoves them into your mouth before you can complain, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking on them and running your tongue around each digit.

“I’m fine with playing Simon Says,” he sighs at you while you continue sucking on his fingers while looking into his eyes. “But if you say you want to fuck me so hard that other people will see, then fucking do it right Yn,” he sneers.

He realigns himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. His new angle allows him to drive himself so deep into your cunt that you wail out a choked sob. There are no agonizingly slow strokes as he repeatedly pounds into you, hard, giving you no time to adjust. He ruts himself into you like you’re his toy and grunts while allowing the nastiest words to come out of his mouth, making up for all the time you lost between studying up until that moment. He’s so deep in you that you can feel him in your throat so that you can’t even utter a word, incoherent, as the springs of your car squeak to the rhythm of him relentlessly pounding in you. You’re so cock-drunk that you don’t even notice you’ve came again, this time sopping wet and onto your leather seats. You wail while struggling to keep your lips around his fingers. But they slip out of your mouth with a trail of your saliva and latch around your throat. He’s intoxicating, and you can't seem get him out of your mind.

.

“Was that too much?” you ask DK while you trace a heart around a plastic stencil he borrowed from the RA from the floor below his.

The two of you are sitting on the white tiled floor of his dormitory room, tracing letters and shapes on the construction paper he picked up at the store. Pop music plays from his laptop speakers, and he has his Pinterest board pulled up on his phone. After much brainstorming and a much-needed shower, the two of you finally came up with a new bulletin theme after scrapping the last one.

“It was the first time you called me ‘baby,’” there is a certain playfulness to his voice.

He proudly holds up the four-leaf clover he made by tracing four hearts on his green construction paper for you to see.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him.

Your hand accidentally slips while tracing the figure when DK crawls over to your side to look at your progress, creating a jagged line around the stencil.

“Did that cross the line?” your voice soft yet uneasy. You’re not sure if DK enjoyed the experience in the car. Maybe it was too much, you think to yourself. Maybe, it would’ve been better if you waited until the two of you got to his dorm.

“No…” he sits down on the space next to you and hugs his knees loosely. He thinks about it for a while. “It wasn’t what I expected, but don’t think I hated it,” he confesses while looking at you.

He takes a stray pencil on the floor and fixes the uneven line of the heart that you stenciled. You lean over to pick up his finished clover to compare it to yours. You frown at your crooked stenciled heart, but DK pats your head and reassures you that it’s fine the way it looks. Still, you think you should’ve volunteered to help him type his bulletin board information instead of volunteering to help him do something artistic like stenciling. 

“Thanks for helping me with my board today,” he tilts his head to his side while beaming at you. You can smell his new body wash on his skin and the ocean-scented laundry softener beads he uses for his clothes.

It’s your turn to bow your head to avoid his eyes. “I told you I’d help you today,” you mumble while tracing another heart. “And I kind of ruined your original plan.”

“Yn, it’s okay. It didn’t make sense anyway,” he leans over to quickly peck your cheek. He smiles at you and lightly pinches your nose between his thumb and index finger. “Did I ever tell you that you make me the happiest?”

Someone knocks on his door, and he immediately gets up from his spot to greet his resident. You’re left sitting cross-legged on his floor, trying not to make yourself known as the resident advisor talks to the freshman with his door open. You don’t even know why you try to hide yourself. You keep reminding yourself that you’re only his friend and that there’s no shame in being his friend.

But feeling of his lips against your skin lingers a little longer than it should. It’s just a simple peck on your cheek, but it feels like your skin is burning. And for the first time in your life, you don’t complain about his kiss.

[127moon]

push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) - part one

summary: thirsting over your ex’s best friend in general is a bad idea. given that you and seungcheol have never gotten along, it’s even worse. when you accidentally stumble across his stream, though, and he finds out? all bets are off.

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

word count: 8.4k (this part - the whole fic? uhhh tbd)

genre: smut (18+), enemies to lovers, camboy au

warnings/contains: camboy!cheol, explicit language, masturbation (m. and f.), usage of petnames (affectionate) and petnames (derogatory), general e2l antagonism and shenanigans, questionable decision-making.

a/n: this is part of the svthub collab. thanks to @sapphichui for putting it together and for being so gracious! special shoutout as well to @biaswreckingfics for being my second pair of eyes on this even if she doesn't read svt fic <3

svthub masterlists: hyung line and maknae line and official taglist form

general taglist: @trashlord-007, @goodforgyu

“Nope! James is a dick and we don’t gorge ourselves on ice cream over dicks.” Your well-meaning best friend, Lily, made this declaration as she grabbed the carton of Ben and Jerry’s from your hand and immediately went to throw it away. “We’re going to get you over this break-up with alcohol, neon lights, loud music, and dancing.”

Despite yourself, you had to bite back a laugh. “I’m not gorging myself, Jesus,” you argued, getting to your feet and following your friend. You rested your elbows on the island countertop and watched her dump the carton in trash then rinse your spoon in the sink. “One: I’ve had three bites and two: I realize he’s a dick. The AmeriCone Dream is less about my ex and more about me craving something sweet. Also three: The last time we all went out, we ended up getting on the wrong train and not realizing it until we literally made it to the end of the line and they kicked us off at like 2AM.”

That gave Lily pause. “...Point. We’ll just have to agree in advance that we’re sharing an uber home rather than risking the train! I’ll let Nari and Jess know the plan. Now. Go get dressed because we’re doing this.”

Your lips twitched and you let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

-----------------------------------------

Two hours later, you were in the middle of a crowded dance floor, covered in a sheen of – well, you’d call it sweat but your grandmother always said ladies don’t sweat, they glisten, so – whatever noun constituted glistening. Catching Nari’s attention, you gestured you were headed toward the bar and made sure she nodded her understanding of your intentions before making your way to the (relatively) less (at the moment) crowded bar area. You pressed your hands against the edge of the countertop then leaned forward to speak to the bartender when she stopped in front of you, having to almost shout your order for water and another rum and coke. At her thumbs up and movements to do just that, you shifted to sit on the stool while you waited, a hand moving from your peripheral into your line of sight drawing your attention.

You followed the hand up the arm, all the way up until your gaze met that of the unbelievably handsome man standing next to you, a wide, friendly smile on his face and his hand still held out to you. Having confirmed he caught your attention, the man shifted his hand into a slight wave and your lips curved up into a smile. 

“Hello,” you said with an answering wave. Had you gone out that night with the intention of picking up or being picked up by someone? No. Did that mean you were going to not take this chance to talk to a random hot guy and see what happened? Also no. After how things went down with your ex, if nothing else, it was a nice validation. 

“Hi,” he started, “I’m –”

“Sorry, buddy. She’s spoken for,” came an altogether too familiar voice, quickly followed by the man to whom that annoyingly familiar voice belonged slipping himself between you and Mister Tall, Dark, and Dreamy. Looking pleased as punch as he turned his body sideways to force the other man to step further back or risk being bumped into. 

Seungcheol.  

If you had hackles, they would be raised straight up. “I am not,” you said through gritted teeth. Forcing your gaze away from the bane of your existence, you looked up at the other man.  “Please ignore Seungcheol. His favorite pastime is being an ass.” 

That earned you an arched eyebrow and an amused smirk from said ass. 

Unfortunately, Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous was looking back and forth between you and Seungcheol, then shaking his head and holding his hands up. “No, it’s okay. I’ll let you two do…whatever this is.” 

Then he was gone and you were glaring at Seungcheol. “Seriously?”

He grinned, turning his body back around so he was facing you. “I’ve gotta look out for my best friend’s girl, don’t I?”

“Your best friend’s ex-girl, actually, and considering you’ve never looked out for me a day in your life, this is a really odd time to start.” 

“Haven’t I?” His expression was unreadable, then, and your brows pulled together, baffled by his words and his demeanor. At least until he shifted right back into obnoxious, making a point to look you up and down before shaking his head and returning his gaze to yours. “Anyway, you’ll always be his girl to me, unfortunately. On the rebound already, though, ouch,” he said with a tsk that you could see more than hear, and that made you want to claw his eyes out but hey. It was nothing new. “That didn’t take long at all, did it?” 

”Despite your…personal – and questionable – experience with reality, the rest of us live in the world where James and I broke up. And since I’m at least waiting until that’s the case to ‘rebound,’ of the two of us, I think I’m morally in the clear here.”

“What?” It was his turn to look confused.

“What do you mean, what? He didn’t tell you why we broke up?”  

Seungcheol straightened his spine and your attention shifted down to where his jaw was clenched before you forced it back up to meet his, inwardly recoiling at the ire there. If you didn’t know for a fact the man hated you, you could almost think he was angry on your behalf. “Obviously not. What happened?” 

You did know him, though, and he had made it very clear over the last eight months how much he disliked you. 

                                                                                             You had never figured out why or what you’d done to offend him so much in the first ten seconds of your meeting that prompted him to ice you out. To continue to be cold and dismissive of you despite your attempts to understand and get closer to him in an effort to make things less awkward for your boyfriend. After all, James had nothing but good things to say about his best friend. Warm, affectionate, funny, loyal, trustworthy, dependable, kind. Those were adjectives you’d heard used to describe Seungcheol hundreds of times during the course of your relationship with your ex, and yet you had never met that version of the man. 

Still, you had tried and tried until you finally had enough one day and just asked him what the hell his problem was, only to be met with a scoff and a drawled, “What’s the matter, princess? Need everyone to like you? Can’t handle it when someone isn’t paying you attention, hm?” 

Your indignant gasp and (admittedly and sadly) shrill, “Princess? Are you kidding me right now?” had earned you a sly smile and him stepping into your personal space, tucking stray hairs behind your ear and crooning at you. 

“Or is it just that you want my attention? For me to like you?”

You had slapped his hand away and balled your hands into fists at your sides. “I don’t want anything to do with you,” you had hissed at him, flushed with anger and offense. 

Some small part of you had whispered that actually, you had wanted him to like you and to pay attention to you – not in the way he was implying, of course. As objectively good looking as Seungcheol was (you could admit it to yourself and had even had an initial moment of, ‘Oh no, he’s hot,’ when James had first introduced the two of you), he was an ass and you were hopelessly infatuated with James. But because he was your boyfriend’s best friend and you had wanted him to fucking like you, which wasn’t a bad thing! 

His attention. That was maybe a little less noble, but it was human nature to want what we couldn’t have and the more standoffish he had been, the more you had wanted him to turn his attention to you. If only to prove that you could have it and there wasn’t something wrong with you that warranted being treated like a Leper.  

“Oh? My mistake.” Seungcheol had chuckled and you had watched his gaze sweep over you, then toward the front door, which you both heard opening at that moment. James had gone to get lunch and the sound indicated he must have returned. Seuncheol had taken a step back, then, and turned his loaded gaze to meet yours. “Maybe you should pay more attention to what your boyfriend is getting up to than whether or not I ask you how your day is and tell you that you look pretty.”

After that…well, screw him. If he wanted to act like an ice prince and for you to act like a bratty princess, fine. You could and you would and you did. 

Back now in the present moment, you gave yourself a mental shake and shrugged your shoulders. “He’s your bestie. Ask him.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue – of fucking course he wanted to argue; since that day you confronted him, every interaction between the two of you had devolved into an argument or bickering until someone (usually your now-ex) either separated you or changed the subject. Fortunately, any argument he wanted to make was interrupted by the bartender placing your drinks on the counter in front of you and you handing her your card. 

You could feel Seungcheol’s eyes on you as you paid and made your way back into the crush of people.

-----------------------------------------

Disloyal Douchebag [1:02AM]: Did you tattle on me to Cheol? 

Disloyal Douchebag [1:52AM]: Wtf

When you finally got your phone back the next morning, Lily having confiscated it at some point during the night, the missed calls (three of them) and texts from James simultaneously made you want to laugh and your brain hurt. Made that part of you who had cared enough to spend eight months with the man ache. He could reach out when he wanted to complain about you inadvertently outing him for being a cheater to his best friend, but not to apologize for being a cheater. It wasn’t as though Seungcheol knowing would change anything. 

Bro code and all of that. 

Ignoring the sting in your eyes, you blinked rapidly and got up to go about your day. 

-----------------------------------------

The rest of the weekend flew by, courtesy of your friends, so determined to keep you busy and distracted, and the inevitable, unavoidable, never-ending responsibilities that every functional adult had to take care of during those two meager days off. 10PM on Sunday night found you letting out a relieved breath as you finally flopped down onto your bed, spread out on your back like a starfish. 

You stared at the ceiling, mindlessly counting the silly glow-in-the-dark stars you’d put up in a fit of whimsy last month, an impulse purchase from the gift shop at the planetarium. James had flaked (of course), but his friend, Jeonghan, made sure you knew you were still invited and encouraged you to bring one of your friends, too. His laugh when you’d asked if Seungcheol was going and the amusement in Jeonghan’s voice when he offered reassurance that he would make sure the other man was on his best behavior still made you smile. Actually, one of the worst parts about this whole thing was how much you liked some of your ex’s friends and how, given the whole break-up thing and that they were his friends first, meant you doubted you would get to see them again. 

Groaning, you rolled over onto your stomach and buried your face in the pillow beneath your head. You reached out a hand to turn the bedside lamp off then drew the covers over you, telling yourself as you started to drift off that you could just text those mutual friends that you wanted to keep. Maybe they wouldn’t want anything to do with you, maybe you and James would have to share “custody” in the split, or maybe they realized he was trash and you would get to keep them. A very teeny, tiny, possibly sort of petty and vindictive part of you maybe hoped for the latter. 

You break my heart, I take your friends. 

But mostly they were just really cool and it would suck to lose them, too. 

Except Seungcheol. James could keep him.

—-----------------------------------------

By the time you made it to the following Friday, you were unbelievably relieved for the week to be over but also incredibly, intolerably bored. All of your friends were busy and, if you had to stare at your walls any longer or watch one more minute of television, you were going to lose your mind. Add in the fact that work had been determined to drive you up a wall and/or run you ragged in the past week, and your ongoing angst regarding your ex (who was also clearly determined to drive you up a wall, considering his random calls you had to ignore and the voicemails he left that vacillated between remorseful, “please take me back,” and “I don’t see what the big deal is/you’re overreacting, come on already,”), your general stress level was what any rational human being would consider not good. 

And okay, fine. You were also horny, which you chalked up to a) not being able to have sex regularly anymore and b) hormones that always messed with you this time of the month and hadn’t got the memo regarding point a. 

So there you were. 

Alone on your bed, with your laptop in-hand, scrolling through thumbnails of live streams on some website you’d never heard of before – SVT Hub. You weren’t normally one for watching cam shows but that night you were curious enough to see what it was about. At the very least, while you weren’t in the room with the man on the other end of the line, there seemed to be some level of added intimacy and connection as opposed to mindlessly watching the same old, pre-recorded porn. 

The first thought you had when you saw coups_d_éhot was, “Holy beefy arms, Batman!” S.Coups, which was his name according to his profile, didn’t have his face shown in the thumbnail, nor was it visible when you clicked through into his streaming page to view the pictures he posted. All of them captured him from the neck down, showing off those truly distractingly strong arms, as well as several of his torso which was just – Jesus, you could definitely see the appeal of watching him get himself off. You were just looking at pictures of the man and you wanted to lick him. Or claw up his back, which he had oh-so-graciously shown in one of his photos. 

His tendency to hide his face was something you noticed continued to be the case as you clicked into the live stream, just starting. Biting at your lower lip, you let your gaze sweep over what you could see of him, sitting in front of his computer in an executive chair, upper body encased in a black turtleneck. Upper body really doing an amazing job at filling out that turtleneck, the outline of his muscles teasing at the fabric. 

And look, you totally understood him not showing his face for privacy reasons. You did. God knew, you couldn’t even do it with your face hidden. It did feel a little weird staring at and possibly getting off to a man whose image was cut off at the chin, though. Yes, he was a camboy and was on the site to be looked at and talked to and hopefully, for his and his audience’s pleasure, but he was literally being – visually and physically, at least – reduced to his body. Guilt gnawing at your insides, you almost backed out of the page, when he spoke. His voice, deep and smooth, caught and held your attention. Vaguely familiar, some small part of your brain registered, but quickly pushed aside in favor of focusing on what he was saying and the screen in front of you.

“I don’t know about you, but it’s been a really fucking long week for me,” he said and you could see the rise of his chest as he drew in a deep breath, then watched it fall again as he sighed. 

He sat up straighter in the chair and his voice practically oozed empathy when he spoke again. “Yeah? I’m sorry you’ve had it rough, too.” Logically, you knew he was responding to someone in the chat, but he could have been speaking to you and you felt that genuine warmth like a caress. “We’ll just have to make sure we take extra good care of ourselves tonight, hm?”

Okay, so maybe you could stick around and watch a bit. Just to see. Dragging the cursor away from the back button, you let your hands fall to your lap. 

“Why am I wearing a turtleneck in the middle of the summer?” You could hear the grin in his voice as he read the words and let out a soft laugh. “That’s a good question! You don’t miss anything, do you?” 

Thank God someone asked because you were only wearing panties and an oversized shirt and were already warm. Looking at him, you felt even hotter on his behalf. 

“I got a new tattoo and, well – should I show you?” 

Yes, you thought, as the chat box filled with enthusiastic echoes of that same thought. 

He tutted and your gaze caught on the back and forth movement of his chin. “You know better than that. Ask me nicely, baby,” he instructed, voice pitched even lower and okay, fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the petname or the sternness, but you felt yourself clench and knew damned well you weren’t going anywhere. 

Yes, please, you typed into the chat. 

Watching tips notifications pop up in the chat, along with a resounding textual chorus of ‘pleases,’ you held your breath. Anticipating. 

“That’s better. So polite for me,” he practically purred. “Manners get rewarded, don’t they?” His hands appeared on screen then, dragging the turtleneck up with them, until he had pulled it over his head and tossed it somewhere off camera, leaving himself bare from the waist up and your mouth dry. 

Pictures did not do this man justice. Well, they did, but not enough. You weren’t even sure where to focus your gaze, too busy letting it sweep over the flatness and fitness of his abs, the slightest trail of hair starting at his belly button and disappearing into the sweats he wore. Back up to his chest and catching at his nipples, dusky and tempting and, if you’d wanted to put your mouth on them before, now that they were live and his thumbs brushed against them, a soft hiss escaping from between lips you couldn’t see, the desire to taste him and earn more of those sounds was an ache. 

The movement of his hands drew your attention then, your gaze avidly watching one dropping to his lap, palming himself through the cotton fabric of his pants, causing your breath to catch in your throat and you to squirm on your bed, until your peripheral caught sight of his other hand sliding across his chest to trace over the tattoo on his neck. Black a stark contrast against his skin, soft brushes of ink that shaped a feather? A bird’s wing? Whatever it was, it covered the left side of his neck from just above collarbone to just beneath his jaw and fuck, it was hot. 

“Thank you,” came his rough voice and you watched his throat move around the words as he responded to people in the chat. “Got it last weekend. Mm, been wanting to for a while, m’glad you like it, baby.”

Like might have been an understatement, if anyone asked you, but you kept that to yourself, along with the other thirsty and completely inappropriate thoughts you were having about the man. S.Coups, you reminded yourself. That’s what he called himself. 

If you ever gave any thought to what camming might consist of and/or the possibility of watching it before, you would have said the talking and shooting the shit was probably just a waste of time. A ploy to drive tips and prolong getting to the point, which was the sexy stuff, wasn’t it? The naked stuff. Watching and listening to S.Coups as he engaged with the viewers, though, you sort of got it. He was a stranger about to get off on camera but, in these interactions, he was charming and it made the whole experience seem less generic porn-y and more…intimate. Like – face hidden or not – he was a real person sharing this part of himself with you. All however many of you. 

He chuckled, then, voice laced with amusement. “It makes me look like a bad boy? I have my moments. You and I know how much you like it when I’m bad, don’t we? Like it when I encourage you to be naughty with me.” He punctuated his words with a groan, the hand palming himself giving a squeeze and causing his hips to jerk upwards. “You gonna misbehave for me tonight, sweetheart?”

Well fuck. 

-----------------------------------------

You woke the next morning to sunlight streaming in through the curtains and a familiar ringtone coming from your nightstand. Slapping your hand out to the side, you groggily grabbed your cell and looked at the screen, a sleepy grumble escaping from between your lips when you saw Jess’ name lighting up the screen, which reminded you that you had brunch plans with friends that morning. 

Rolling over in bed, determined to ignore the call and knowing you could get at least another ten minutes in before one of your friends called again or just showed up at your door, you yelped when your stomach landed on something hard, and your eyes flew open on instinct. They narrowed when you spotted your laptop, first in that still-half-asleep-what-is-happening sense, then in perturb at the thing that would dare to interrupt your efforts to ignore the day and drift back into dreams. Delicious dreams of a man, sweaty, strong hand gripping your hip, dragging your ass back into his thrusts, other hand fisted in your hair just hard enough for you to feel the pull, his voice a low rasp of your name into your ear. 

Fucking cooing that you “needed this, didn’t you?” and “I know, princess. Gonna give you what you need, fuck, just like that. There you go.” You had been on the cusp of coming when the sun decided to so rudely wake you up and your stupid laptop that didn’t even belong there just had to be there to be hit. Why the hell was your laptop on your bed anywa– Oh. 

Right. 

S.Coups. coups_d_éhot. The unfairly sexy camboy – camman? cam man? – who seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it in order to leave you panting, writhing, making a mess of yourself and your sheets, until you were begging him in the goddamn chat to let you come. Tipping him. You had never paid for porn a day in your life, and yet. Apparently, you were dreaming about him, too? Jesus. Whoever he was in his real life, he knew exactly what he was doing on that stream and for the sake of your wallet (and peaceful sleep), you needed to stay away from said stream.

Sighing and giving up on your bonus sleep, you swiped the screen to answer, pulling the phone to your ear and stating, “I need twenty minutes.”

Jess laughed and her voice was laced with mirth when she responded. “I figured. I’ll swing by Starbucks on my way and see you in thirty, sleeping beauty!” 

You loved your friends. You really did. 

-----------------------------------------

Despite your best intentions and several very strongly worded lectures to yourself, you did not stay away from the cam site. You made it to Wednesday night before curiosity and the metaphorical devil on your shoulder had you pulling it back up, scrolling until you found coups_d_éhot, hesitating all of ten seconds before clicking through and onto his profile. He wasn’t streaming that day, but he did have older videos you could pay to watch, which you did. 

That night, you got yourself off to his low, rough voice telling you exactly how to do so. Edging yourself again and again until you knew that, if he had been live – if he had been in your bed with you, teasing you and drawing it out so long, with that casual amusement, the knowing in his tone, his words – you would have been cursing him and pleading with him to let you come. To either let you finish yourself off or to give you his fingers, his mouth, his cock. 

Your eyes were riveted on the grip of his hand on said cock, hard and long and thick, precome gathering at the head. The way his thumb brushed over the tip, drawing the liquid down his length. The low groan he emitted when he drizzled lube onto his dick, the squeeze he gave himself as he started pumping harder, faster. 

You lied there in your own bed, biting back said curses and pleas that he would never hear, your fingers not nearly enough to sate you but when he finally threw his head back, jaw clenched, and growled at you that he was “Gonna come, fuck, you’re gonna take it all for me, aren’t you, baby? Every drop.” His voice was a rasp as he commanded you to, “Come now. Let me fucking feel you squeeze it out of me,” and you fell apart, cunt clenching around your fingers, a needy whine pushing its way past your lips because he came then and as you watched him spill come across his abdomen, you wanted him to be inside of you on the most visceral level. 

Friday night, again. You went to bed with your body still tingling, his voice still echoing in your head, sated and sleepy.

The rest of the weekend and the next week didn’t afford much opportunity to indulge and really, you needed to not get completely caught up in some faceless, real nameless man on the internet being the source of your orgasms. 

The following Saturday (technically Sunday morning), still tipsy and wired despite it being 2 o’clock in the morning, you decided to say, “Screw it,” and pulled up your favorite camboy’s latest video. The datestamp indicated it had been recorded earlier that night, while you and your friends were very enthusiastically and tragically singing pop’s greatest hits. Well, what you all thought the greatest hits were. God, he had the tattoo in that one. You might or might not have sent him a private message telling him he was your favorite — your only camboy, if you were being honest (which you were) — that he was stupid hot (even if he never showed his face, you just knew and he should know), he really did make you want to misbehave, and thanking him for orgasms. Lots of them. Including the one you had right before sending said message. 

That you might have but might not have sent. Because you totally wouldn’t do that. 

(Except you definitely did.) 

-----------------------------------------

August was always hot and you were by no means a fan of the heat, but you did love the beach and there was no better time to be at the beach than when it was hot enough to bake you just standing outside for ten minutes. After finding parking – easier said than done, the whole ordeal taking you forty-five minutes and causing you to seriously consider just going home and calling an uber to bring you right back – you and Lily finally made your way toward the sand and water, your lips pulling into a happy smile as you watched the people milling about, and the way the waves continuously rolled into the shoreline. 

This was your happy place. 

You heard your name being called and turned your head toward it, spotting and waving back at Jess, slipping your arm through Lily’s and dragging her forward to meet up with your other friends, who had picked a spot earlier. You hugged Jess and Nari, giving their boyfriends a friendly smile in greeting before you and Lily set your towels down next to theirs and dropped down onto yours. 

While everyone chatted or stripped down to their swimsuits, you pulled off your own shorts and t-shirt, tucking the items into your bag and started searching through the bag for your sunscreen. You found it and were able to put it on for the most part, calling over your shoulder as you finished up on your face, holding out the bottle of sunscreen to your side so Lily could grab it from you. “Hey, get my back for me? I can’t reach it.”

“Ask me nicely,” came the drawled response in a voice that definitely did not belong to any of your friends and, in fact, gave you an unfortunate flashback to when S.Coups told the viewers exactly that, causing a shiver to shoot down your spine at the same time you spun quickly around to confirm your worst fears. 

Seungcheol was standing over you, backlit by the sun, arms crossed over his chest, and his forever infuriating smirk in place. Staring at you expectantly.    

“I – What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed up at him, looking around for your friends and realizing that while you were busy covering yourself in SPF 100, half of them must have wandered into the water and the other half were several towels down, looking very interested in anything but your current predicament. 

“That is not asking me nicely, princess.” 

His words drew your attention back to him and you refused to think about the way what would normally only piss you off now managed to piss you off and somehow send a bolt of lust through you. Well. You were seriously never watching coups_d_éhot again. Clearly he broke something in you, if you were responding to Seungcheol like this. Or no. It’s not even about Seungcheol, you told yourself. You were reacting to echoes of the camboy’s words, so that is what turned you on. The words were the same and they just – Seungcheol had a similar voice to him, was all. Actually, when you thought about it, their voices were uncomfortably similar. Between that and the middle of the night thirsty private message your intoxicated brain thought would be a good idea to send, you had yet another reason to avoid watching S.Coups in the future. 

You were determined to ignore the lingering horniness that was obviously because of someone not the man in front of you. Clearing your throat, you put on your most pleasant, innocent, and so overly-that-it-wasn’t-even-remotely-believable contrite expression as you squinted up at the man. “You’re right. I am so sorry, Seungcheol. Would you please tell me what the hell you’re doing here?” 

“You are such a fucking brat,” he said, lips twitching. 

You grit your teeth as you watched him reach behind his head and draw his shirt up and off, rolling it up and dropping it onto the sand next to you before he crouched down in front of you. He rested one forearm on his thigh and held the other hand out for the bottle of sunscreen, still in your hand. “Lily invited Jeonghan, Jeonghan invited me. It’s hot. I said yes. Give it to me, hm? Unless you want to burn…?”

Vaguely, you were aware of his words. Aware of the fact that you should be annoyed and offended by being called a brat. Instead, your focus tunneled, the sounds and colors and movements around you fading into the periphery. Crouching as he was, shirtless as he was, and close enough that you weren’t blinded by the sun behind him, you had an up close and personal view of his bare upper body. On even the best day, under the best of circumstances, it would be distracting. You had never seen him without a shirt and, although he was your least favorite (okay, second to least, since James held the top honors) person on the planet, the man was built. His fucking arms? His chest? His neck with horrifyingly familiar black ink. That hadn’t been there before. You would’ve noticed. Wouldn’t you? 

No, you would’ve. Definitely. 

You forced your gaze away from the tattoo, letting it sweep over his torso again, then his jawline. No. No no no. Widened eyes stared at the feather design, starting at that same spot just above that same clavicle, ending in that same spot beneath that same jaw. You drew in a sharp breath as the realization that Seungcheol was S.Coups hit you. You hated this man and he hated you but you’d seen him naked and watched him pump his cock in his fist, heard him say the sexiest, filthiest things, while you fucked yourself to climax on the other side of the screen. Multiple times.

You had sent him a message – you had told him –  

Oh fuck. Fuck. 

 “Careful, princess,” he tutted, moving closer and grabbing the sunscreen from your outstretched hand, leaning his face into your view and arching a brow at you. “Keep looking at me like that, I’ll start to think you like me and all the attitude has just been you trying to hide how much.” 

Well that was a reality check, tearing you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. You jerked your hand back, glaring at him and trying your best to ignore the flush you could feel covering your skin. Trying to ignore how close he was and to not let your gaze keep dropping to his neck or his torso. Trying to pretend you hadn’t seen this man naked. Mortified, furious, and appalled. At least he didn’t realize you knew about his…nighttime activities.

“Like you? I do not –” you started, before realizing how loud you were being and pressing your lips together, then continuing much more quietly. “Maybe I just like your tattoo. It’s new?” 

His gaze slipped from yours and toward where the tattoo was, not that he could see it, then he cocked his head to the side and you did not like the interest with which he looked at you. “Ah, right. That must be it. We’ll just pretend that’s the only place you were looking.” 

You were going to hit him. You just were. The patronizing jackass. 

Or you were going to die of discomfort and say something to somehow out yourself as one of his – fuck, one of his viewers. What you needed to do was put space between the two of you so you could wrap your head around this development and then never think about it again. 

“I’m going in the water,” you said, pushing yourself away from Seungcheol and to your feet. 

“You realize I haven’t put the sunscreen on you yet, right?” 

“I don’t even care.”

“Sit down.”

“No.”

The way he clenched his jaw actually gave you a thrill that you refused to think about too closely. Instead, you flashed him an overly bright smile and turned away, ignoring the curses you heard him making under his breath or him calling your name. 

You were able to avoid him most of the time there, making sure to be in the water when he was on the shore or on the shore when he made his way into the water. What you could not avoid was his gaze. That, you felt on you throughout the day and caught on you several times. The problem was you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him or looking for him, needing to be aware of where he was at all times in order to avoid having to talk to him and give him the opportunity to question you or fluster you. Because you were really fucking flustered already and were having a very hard time compartmentalizing. A task that was made even harder every time you looked at him, caught him staring at you, studying you, his goddamned eyebrow lifted and a smirk turning up the corner of his lips. 

The thing was, you knew he didn’t know you had seen his…performances. There was just no way. You had watched him as a guest the first time and then used some super generic screenname to buy access to the videos and to message him from. As long as you – for real, this time – never went back to the site and never actually told him you saw him on there, it would be fine. If you could avoid ever seeing him or running into him again at all, even better!

From the looks Lily and Jeonghan kept exchanging and their not actually all that sneaky touches, though, you were definitely going to be in the same place at the same time with him again at some point. This was what happened when you got greedy and asked the universe to let you keep your ex’s friends. They started dating your friends. 

A nudge to your arm dragged your attention away from the blossoming couple – or more accurately, Seungcheol’s back, where he was standing next to the blossoming couple – to the knowing grin Nari was giving you. “I thought you hated him,” she said. 

“I do hate him,” you argued. “And he hates me.” 

“Is that why you’re blushing?” 

“Blush- I’m- I’m not blushing!” You sputtered, hands flying up to your face to cover your cheeks, cringing when you felt the heat there. 

Her smile widened and she laughed, holding her palms up in front of her. “Okay, okay! For the record, though, you guys are both being extra weird today. And you spend a lot of time staring at each other for two people that supposedly hate one another.”

Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed your friend warily. You wanted to explain but despite the enmity between you and Seungcheol, he clearly tried to conceal his identity during the streams, and you weren’t going to be the asshole who exposed him. “It’s…complicated,” you settled on.

When she responded with, “Mmhm, I bet it is,” you rolled your eyes affectionately and gave your friend a soft shove toward the coolers.

-----------------------------------------

As you settled yourself in bed that night, you turned off the lights and were plugging your phone into the bedside charger when a notification banner popped up on your screen, indicating you had a new email. Expecting the email to be a quick ‘send it to the trash’ type thing, as was usually the case when they came through at this time of night, you clicked through intending to do just that. Your eyes scanned the body of the message and you felt your breath catch when you realized it was SVTHub telling you that you had a new private message from coups_d_éhot. 

Shit. 

On the one hand, it was really nice that he took the time to reply to people who messaged him. Which – his whole persona as S.Coups was so different from the version of him you knew personally that the resulting cognitive dissonance made your brain error. It was weird and wrong and yet, so much more like the man everyone else described him as that it was also kind of infuriating. Even strangers on the internet got to meet thoughtful, warm Seungcheol! Apparently, you were the only person on the planet who didn’t.  

On the other goddamn hand, his response meant Seungcheol had read your thirsty DM. Thank God he didn’t know you were, well, you. 

You weren’t going to read his response. You weren’t. You told yourself exactly that even as you clicked on the link in the email that would take you to the message on the website. 

[coups_d_éhot] to [princess_peach] 10:43pm: 

Thank you for the sweet message, princess. I’m honored to be your favorite (only) camboy and love to hear you’ve been able to make yourself feel so good while watching me. ;) Don’t be a stranger in the chats. Tell me what you need and share those orgasms with me. 

Reading that was a mistake. Squeezing your eyes shut, you did your best to ignore the flush creeping across your cheeks and down your neck. Seungcheol didn’t know he was talking to you but you sure as hell did and the idea of sharing your orgasms with him filled you with a warmth you weren’t going to acknowledge. You bit at your bottom lip, weighing out whether it would be worse to reply and then disappear forever or just ignore the message. 

The guilt gnawing at your insides had your fingers moving to the keys, trying to type up something that would allow you to gracefully exit stage left while also acknowledging him and not leaving the guy on read.

[princess_peach] to [coups_d_éhot] 11:05 pm: 

As appealing as that sounds, I don’t think I’m comfortable sharing my orgasms with you AND the rest of the chat haha. Thanks for getting back to me and not treating me like a giant weirdo for watching and messaging a stranger!

There. That was a totally reasonable response! You were about to close the screen and log-out when another message popped up. 

[coups_d_éhot] to [princess_peach] 11:06pm: 

You’re cute. Shy, huh? I get that. Tell you what, peach. If you ever want all of my attention to yourself and to share with ONLY me, let me know. I don’t usually do private streams, but I have before, and you and I could talk about what that may look like. 

Your next inhale was sharp, eyes staring at the words on the screen as you squirmed in your bed. A private stream? You forced your eyes shut and quickly closed the tab, then shoved your phone face down on your nightstand. That you considered it for even a second was inexcusable and, frankly, bewildering. He wasn’t just some nameless, faceless, random man on the internet. He was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend! He was the bane of your existence! You were his best friend’s ex-girlfriend and he couldn’t stand you. 

If Seungcheol knew it was you on the other end of his messages, he would be horrified. And probably kill you. At the very least, he would go out of his way to be even more of a pain in your ass. So no. You were going to erase this whole thing from your awareness and pretend it never happened. 

Starting now. 

-----------------------------------------

You ran into your ex at the store on Wednesday and found yourself floundering. James had been there with the woman he had cheated on you with, even, something you had hoped to avoid ever having to encounter in person. Feeling frustrated and a little brittle, hurt and angry – with him, with yourself for still caring and allowing yourself to be affected by him, you needed to do something. In your defense, you had called your friends first and they had been able to talk you down from that something being completely impulsive and excessive.

Idea number one had been to pack a bag, get on a plane, and move to Boston, Augustana style. If you didn’t love Lily as much as you did, and know she loved you just as much, her laughter as she shot down that plan would have had you pushing back more. Idea two was to swear off men entirely, for the rest of forever, which you thought was pretty reasonable, all things considered. Jess and Nari reminded you of all the things you actually really loved about men, though – at least, men not James – and they had a point. Lots of guys were not cheating douchebags and there was no way you would give up forever all the stuff that came with dating them.

So fine. 

You made plans with them to meet up over the weekend and hung up the phone, feeling better. Mostly. The old saying that the best way to get over a guy is to get under another guy snuck up into your awareness and wouldn’t leave, and at this point, you were starting to seriously consider the strategy. 

Which left you with two options: tinder or getting gussied up, going out, and trying to pick a guy up. Tinder was a goddamn nightmare and a curse upon every single woman in the universe, however. It would also involve you then having to still get gussied up to meet them and presumably sleep with them. And even if you found someone on there, or if you put in the effort to go out to find someone the old-fashioned way (which, really, going out by yourself to a club or bar sounded awful), there was zero guarantee the guy could get you off. 

Okay, option three was to table options one and two for now, possibly revisit option two over the weekend when you and your friends went out, and just focus on orgasms. Partnered and yet…not. Your fingers were still curled around your phone and you tightened your grip, drawing in a deep breath. You tried to tell yourself that messaging Seungcheol back, asking him what exactly was required for and what was the expectation for private streaming, was not an option. 

It wasn’t quite as rife with the potential for life-altering consequences as an impulsive move, but it was a very bad idea. 

First and foremost, Seungcheol didn’t know you were princess_peach but that did not mean he wouldn’t find out, especially if you did things to single yourself out from his other viewers and put yourself into a one-on-one virtual situation with him. You hoped and would assume the site protected the names and other private data of viewers as well as performers, but assuming had made an ass of you many times. Even if that was protected, and even if you did your best not to say anything that would give you away, it wasn’t a guarantee he wouldn’t find out you were you. 

Secondly, if he found out, you could honestly make the argument at this point that you hadn’t known he was S.Coups when you watched him and got off on doing so. Despite the fact that he hid his face and didn’t use his real name, there was always the risk of someone he knew stumbling upon him – it just so happened to be you in this case. If you messaged him now, arranged for him to share a private stream with you, to put on a show for you while you chatted with him and touched yourself to the sight and the sounds of him, you would be doing so knowing who he was, purposefully hiding your identity and withholding that same knowledge from him. At the very least, it seemed like a violation of…fairness? If he found out afterwards, he would be pissed and you wouldn’t have a leg to stand on because you knew it was wrong. 

Also, you reminded yourself, I can’t stand the man, so why am I even considering this? 

Because, the fact of the matter was, that he was different when he was acting as S.Coups. He – and you would only admit this to yourself – was always hot, but when he wasn’t actively being an ass or doing his best to get under your skin, he was also not the worst. Fine. He was actually very attractive in more than the physical sense. That’s as much as you were willing to give. 

Maybe you would message him and he would say, ‘Sorry, that’s not an option anymore, but here’s some other streamers I can recommend if you’re into that!” and all of this would be a moot point. 

[princess_peach] to [coups_d_éhot] 8:34pm: 

Hi! Is talking about a private stream still on the table? If not, I totally understand. I’m sorry I didn’t reply earlier. I wasn’t really sure how to respond but I’m definitely interested.

That was not a lie. 

[coups_d_éhot] to [princess_peach] 9:16pm: 

There’s my shy girl. It’s on the table, yeah. Why don’t I send you a sheet I drew up that explains how it works? You can take a look at it and tell me if it’s something you’d like to move forward with. 

[princess_peach] to [coups_d_éhot] 9:24pm: 

Your shy girl, huh? I know I claimed you as my favorite but I didn’t realize the claiming went both ways. Noted. ;) And yes, please. I’ll take a look and get back to you asap.

Jesus Christ, you were flirting with him now. 

[coups_d_éhot] to [princess_peach] 9:27pm: 

I think we both know I don’t share well, don’t we, princess? You’ve seen my shows. If we’re going one-on-one and getting to know each other that well, you’re definitely gonna be mine. File is attached, so read it and let me know. [attached: 1 document]

Jesus Fucking Christ, you were flirting with him, he was flirting with you, and you liked it. 

The shiver that went through you, the wave of heat you felt reading his cocky, possessive words, should probably be a sign you were heading into a danger zone and the last thing you should do was to go through with this. Probably should but if it was, you ignored it in favor of scanning through the document he’d sent, already knowing you were going to agree. It was just a transaction. He did this with other people, too, so it was fine. Totally fine! You were just another, uh, customer. Seeing the cost of a private session, your eyes nearly bugged out of your head, but it wasn’t like it would bankrupt you and you were all-in on this questionable decision-making now. 

You messaged him back, agreeing to the terms and the cost, signing the form he sent over confirming such and giving SVTHub permission to charge your card upon initiation of the private stream, and establishing a day/time for said stream. Tomorrow night at 8pm. For one hour, S.Coups – Seungcheol – would be all yours. 

Hand to God, if he ever found out you did this, you were going to flee to Boston. Or Antarctica. Somewhere you never had to face him or anyone who knew the both of you again. 

[127moon]

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡ 𝐛𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

⋆ back to masterlist of masterlists ⋆

© all work & content posted belongs to inkykeiji 2021. do not under any circumstances modify or repost. do not claim as your own. do not recommend my work on tiktok/wattpad. do not read my work as asmr.

Keep reading

[127moon]

suddenly remembered this poem as i was making breakfast this morning & frantically googled “poem remembered to buy eggs?????????” & somehow managed to find it & it utterly knocked the wind out of me just as much as when i first read it

[127moon]

carol rabe - kim cogan - carol rabe - wayne thiebaud - peter brown - laura lacambra shubert - thomas ruckstuhl - ekaterina popova

[127moon]

quarantine diary & pastel experiments

[127moon]

do u have any big clit recs or like trans men with girls porn? I rly want to see girls sucking big clits

Sorry it's been a while! Been workin~

But I'm wandering down the rabbit hole to find you some things - // it's also hella exclusive of trans men mixed in -

++would highly recommend folks follow dax walker, bludlyte, edwin crichton, and ryder storm on ph for more of that kind of content

big clits/t-dicks (masturbation) 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 11 big clits/t-dicks (getting sucked) 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 7 / 8 / 9 / 10

bonus - 1 / 2 / 3

Tmi -

but if my clit was bigger and i was one of those lucky folks who'd have T make them extra horny, i'd honestly just get off all day. i want to jack my dick off all day. it isn't fair.

[127moon]

some dajeong for @summerstormlips !! hope you enjoy bestie 🤍

—

not many things truly, deeply embarrass jeongyeon. she’s easy to blush, but not easy to truly embarrass, and she takes pride in that fact. she has very little shame about anything in her life and she’d like to keep it that way.

the only thing that she still feels that slow creep of humiliation about, however, is how willing she is to submit to the younger girls in the group.

specifically dahyun. especially dahyun.

jeongyeon has no idea what it is about dahyun that makes submitting for her so alluring. perhaps it’s her otherwise innocent smile seeming so, so condescending when she’s pinning jeongyeon on her back. perhaps it’s the way she giggles so sweetly into jeongyeon’s ear while shes fucking the older girl on all fours. perhaps it’s the way she’s always finding new ways to torture jeongyeon in the best way possible.

like today — she insisted that jeongyeon spend the day off with her biggest steel plug nestled perfectly in her ass and the new vibrating cock ring dahyun bought her on. the way she speaks about such vulgar things has jeongyeon hard already, her soft, melodic voice detailing exactly what she wants jeongyeon to do to herself to prepare for later.

“did you do what i asked, unnie?”

dahyun is all teasing smiles, voice delicate and taunting, eyes glittering as she hugs jeongyeon from behind. she always calls jeongyeon unnie with that teasing lilt to her voice as they’re getting started in the bedroom.

“yes,” jeongyeon whispers in a tremulous voice, her knees knocking together.

the steel plug she’s used to, wearing it nearly every off they have. it fits so neatly and snugly inside her, giving just enough stimulation to leave her deliciously desperate and aching, wanting for more.

the cock ring, though, that was an adjustment. it’s been at a constant, low hum all day, leaving her nearly delirious and dizzy with want, her cock sore and red, precum dribbling down her length as it pulses inside her boxers.

“good girl,” dahyun praises in a soft purr of a voice, hands gripping jeongyeon’s hips. “does it hurt?”

“mmm,” jeongyeon is beyond true words, nodding feverishly as her hips buck, dahyun’s small hand dancing teasingly over her clothed bulge.

“you’re so pretty, jeongie,” dahyun coos, guiding her over to the bed. “since you’ve listened so well, how do you want to be fucked? on your back, or on your knees?”

jeongyeon’s breath hitches, her voice stuttering to a start, thin when she breathes out, “k-knees, please…”

dahyun grins, pressing a lingering kiss to jeongyeon’s neck as she helps push her into position. jeongyeon adores to be fucked on her hands and knees; it just feels so degrading, makes her feel so beneath. she can’t get enough of it. 

her pants are pulled off, boxers tossed aside, dahyun’s hands roaming all over her naked body and gripping here and there, admiring the plush of her hips and the toned muscle of her thighs, the curve of her ass as she lands a playful smack to it, eliciting a reedy moan from the older girl.

“god you’re hot,” dahyun murmurs, almost to herself. “you’re making me so hard.”

“please!” jeongyeon cries sharply, hips jerking as dahyun finally reaches to play with the plug, leaving her a helpless mess of moans and whimpers. “want your cock, dahyun please…”

“oh, you want my cock?” dahyun coos mockingly, jeongyeon shuddering. “i love hearing you beg, baby.”

jeongyeon whines, back bowing down as she pushes her ass back towards dahyun more. she’s so close already with the ring around her cock, and she cries out headily when dahyun’s thumb traces around the right ring of muscle, preparing her for a few seconds before she can feel the thick head of dahyun’s cock prodding inside her ass.

“oh fuck!” she moans loudly, burying her face into the mattress.

not for long, though, as she feels dahyun’s fingers tangling into her hair and yanks, hard, eliciting the most pitiful, pretty whimper from jeongyeon that she scoffs at.

“naughty girl,” dahyun tuts quietly. “better be loud for me if you want to have such a dirty mouth, baby”

“o-oh, ohhh,” jeongyeon groans in a choked up voice, dahyun thrusting slowly and deeply into her until her cock is completely buried inside the older girl’s ass, both of them moaning wantonly at the sensation.

it’s such a high to be pounded so deep, dahyun domineering in a way jeongyeon never sees her outside of this scenario. jeongyeon is so far gone in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, head pounding, body thrumming with pure adrenaline and sheer lust it hurts, she can’t help it when she comes without asking for permission, her voice completely shot from sobbing out moans.

“fuck, baby,” dahyun growls, not far behind, coming deep in jeongyeon’s ass and quickly pushing the plug back in to keep it inside, slipping the cock ring off jeongyeon finally as she softens, whining still at the loss. “don’t want you leaking any, okay unnie?” she asks as she traces the plug to make it wiggle slightly.

“okay,” jeongyeon breathes out with a giddy grin. “i love you.”

“love you too, unnie.”

[127moon]

you don’t write for female idols? i’ve only found a bp jennie one

I do :3 I just haven’t really been in the mood to write for any lately. If I get a hit of inspiration, it’ll probably be for Lisa. In the meantime, you should definitely peruse the female idol smut tags to quench your thirst. Who I write for always depends on whatever mood I’m in. Doesn’t mean I enjoy them any less or find them less attractive. I’m just not in the mood.

@drippinlovetalk did a really good one recently for joy from rv here. but if you enjoy it, don’t pressure them to write more, should you feel compelled to ask if they’re writing more for girl groups. 

Since there are so few, I also encourage you to learn to write your own stories if girl group stuff is what you’re jonesing for. There’s a bunch of female idol stories I’ve come across and there’s a niche for that. Sub!female idols, though, are unfortunately a rarity, so you can exploit a niche in that if you’re motivated enough. 

[127moon]

You know that moment when someone whispers in your ear and says “You make me so wet” while they show you how wet they are by guiding your hand into their pants? That’s the shit I like.

[127moon]

The masculine urge to lift my shirt a little bit when they’re talking to me so they can see my V line and the waistline of my boxers

[127moon]

filter

lisa x reader

warnings: smut, swearing, sexting, one shot

word count: 3,294

playing with snapchat and lisa.

[127moon]

five p.m naps | lisa

dom!reader x sub!lisa

contains: mdlg theme, anal, oral, sadism, masochism, a little bit of yandere lisa (oop), overstimulation

“i don’t want you to!” lisa whines, a scowl on her pouting lips. “stay for a little while, please.” her miniature fingers go to grasp yours and hold them tight in hers.  

you observe her through your eyelashes, head cocked: her sleepy, droopy eyelids and slow blinks. “looks like someone needs a nap.” you ponder out loud, leaning your lower back against the kitchen aisle. lisa’s dewy eyes grow wide, before kittenishly looking away, and finds a distraction at the sink, washing up a glass that really doesn’t need it.

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[127moon]

На краю | ON THE EDGE

PAIRING: Park Chaeyoung and Kim Jisoo (doms) x fem!reader (sub)

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

GENRE: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

WARNINGS/KINKS: gp!reader, breast play, bondage, choking, cervix kisses, degrading, DVP, edging, handjob, overstimulation, mommy kink, pegging/straps, scratching, size kink, public foreplay, and polyamorous relationship

Chaeyoung and Jisoo loved to tease you and they had been doing just that for hours now.

You were all out to have dinner with your friends at a nice restuarant. You were seated inbetween your two girlfriends as you talked to your friend across the table.

Jisoo was the one who started the whole thing.

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