#But the little content that I have consumed from this is fucking good they have good quality here

[missxoier]

Hi Billions fans, do you have another space for one more?

I know I hyperfix myself with strange things but this???? I don't know how it happened

[yandere-writer-momo]

Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.

Yandere Head Canons:

The Husband Swap

Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband

TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.

Art from Veil Manga

You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.

Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.

Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.

One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.

A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…

Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.

You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.

You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.

Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.

Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?

So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?

“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.

“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.

Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…

“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”

And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.

It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.

When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.

It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…

The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.

But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.

“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.

“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.

“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.

“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”

You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“

“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”

You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.

Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…

And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.

You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.

“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”

“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.

“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”

You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!

“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”

[slttygeto]

MORNING LOVE — GOJO SATORU

content warning: pwp, pussy whipped gojo is my favorite gojo, sex in the kitchen, very light spanking, dirty talk, hint of cnc.

word count: 0,6k

note: this is a follow up to this piece right here. i hope you enjoy it :)!

if there was anything you learned from dating satoru, it was the fact that he was all about touching you. whether it be a hand resting on your thigh, or his lips pressed to your cheek as he drills into you from behind--the man couldn’t get enough of you.

you tried to stop him, tried your best to tell him to wait at least until you were done with breakfast before touching you. but the man was on a mission the moment he saw you dancing in his shirt in the kitchen. and you dare ask him to wait?

“toru--the pancakes,” you cry out the last part, his big hand reaching over to fondle with your boobs. he was incredibly touchy, always all over you like you could escape at any moment (you obviously couldn’t with his massive weight on top of you). 

you feel a little guilty to be doing this in the kitchen and over your counter, but his cock was drilling into you so well. you didn’t know why you were so sensitive this morning, perhaps you were ovulating and so your body felt like putty the moment satoru put his hands on you. 

he didn’t even bother taking off your shirt, simply pushed it up and let out a ‘fuck’ at the sight of your ass. this made you push back on him, whining when he delivered a harsh smack to the skin.

“later baby--fuck, I promise.” he was out of breath, hands roughly grabbing your hips to keep you in place. he loved having this much control over you, to see you trying to run away from his cock. only for him to hold you in place and force you to take it, force delicious sounds out of your throat. 

he grins lazily when you try to look back at him and your eyes are glossed over, lips parted and face contorted in pleasure. you look like you’re trying to say something, but the pleasure consuming you wiped every coherent thought out of your head.

“oh baby, you’re so pretty,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the back of your ear, chuckling when your breath stuttered. you were always so weak, so easily breakable when he had his dick inside of you. 

“oh god--satoru!” you cry out when his hand travels down, rubbing at your clit all while his other hand lets go of your hip to press on your stomach. his pace is unforgiving, a string of curses leaves his mouth when he feels you clenching around him as you approach your orgasm.

“that’s it baby, come on, come on,” he hisses out, his chin resting on your shoulder to peek at your face. he especially loved how fucked out you looked when you coated his dick with your juices.

“that’s right, give it to me. all of it, I can take it. take all what your pussy gives me--shiit, you feel so good,” it’s his turn to whine, his forehead resting on your shoulder when you finally reach your orgasm. your pussy felt like heaven, it was a miracle that he held in for so long. 

his orgasm washes over him soon after yours, and you’re both left a heaving mess. satoru refuses to pull out even when you whine at him to do so, only presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder and hums.

“if I pull out, it will be a mess,”

“then what should we do?”

“the paper towels are right there, lemme grab some.”

“...you’re unbelievable.”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

[misserabella]

46-58

abby anderson x fem! reader

summary; abby loses her match, and when her frustration takes the best of her, she takes it out on you.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, swearing, abby getting mad, harsh treatment, rough sex, name calling (whore, slut), spanking, clit slapping, fingering (r receiving), strap-on sex (r receiving), multiple orgasms, degrading and praising, abby being really rough, breeding kink (😵‍💫), abby uses reader like a toy, hair pulling, making out, finger sucking, cum eating, squirting, use of pet names instead of y/n…

abby was losing. and abby hated losing.

24-39. a 15 point difference.

“fuck!” she hissed, sending the ball flying against a wall, making the other team wince in fear. and who wouldn’t. abby, with her 6,3ft and muscles could make anyone shake in their place.

“anderson!” her coach reprimanded her, and she huffed. you were worried about her. you could clearly see she was frustrated. but at the same time you couldn’t help the way her roughness made you feel. your thighs pressed against the other as you bit down on your lip as you felt your clit throb. why did this turn you on so badly?

you had come to her game to cheer for her, her sweater —with her name on the back— engulfing you and almost hiding your pink skirt. you loved the size difference in between the two of you.

you loved watching abby play, there was something about it, about the way she moved, that made it impossible for you to pull your eyes away from her. she was good. she was the captain for a reason and due to that she always took it personal when the match would go sideways even if it wasn’t her fault. she was too hard on herself.

“referee please!” she yelled, huffing when a player from the other team hit her and yet he didn’t count it as a foul. next time he did indeed called it was when abby did a blockage. “oh come on! are you fucking serious?! i didn’t touch her!” one of her teammates went to her, stopping her on her tracks. “fucking dick…” she muttered, shaking her head. you squirmed when she tossed the ball to the referee a little bit too harsh, winning a warning from her coach. but she was too good, he couldn’t risk to sit her on the bench.

“come on abs, don’t get frustrated, it’s alright.” one of her teammates tried to cheer her up, and then her eyes were on you. her beautiful blue eyes. you trembled.

there were 5 minutes left.

the time was flying by.

30-43

the crowd was roaring, cheering for their respective teams.

“come on abby…” you muttered. she was chugging water, her whole body and strong arms covered in shiny sweat.

she did her best to diminish the point difference, running from side to side of the court and scoring as many points as she could.

but sadly enough, despite her best efforts, they ended up losing.

46-58

the glowing red numbers were like a mock to her face.

she cursed, sitting on the bench with her head in between her hands. her coach made his best to not let it consume her, as so did her teammates, but she was blaming herself. and she was frustrated… furious.

you watched as both teams shook their hands congratulating each other for the game and took their things to leave.

you left the stairs and made your way down to meet with your girlfriend, who didn’t even look at you and simply started walking towards her car, having you following her behind like a lost sad puppy.

she didn’t say a word though the whole way back to your shared apartment, the silence and heavy atmosphere inside the car making your skin crawl.

you watch her muscled back as you made your way inside the apartment, abby harshly leaving her bag on the floor. she could feel her blood boiling, her hands shaking in adrenaline and rage.

“abby.” you called out for her, touching her shoulder, gently. but there was nothing gentle in the way she was now pressing you against the wall, both of your hands on the side of your face.

“shut the fuck up.” she growled, taking your lips in a rough kiss that had your lungs begging for air. “i’m so fucking mad.” she groaned, sucking on your neck, and you whined, feeling one of her legs push up in between your own and against your throbbing cunt. “you know what i need right now, isn’t that right, doll?” you nodded. “yeah, you do. so you’re gonna stay quiet and let me fuck you, hm?” you moaned, nodding once again, feeling heat pooling in between your legs, her voice was low, dangerous. and you couldn’t help but want to satisfy her, to make her feel better. “atta girl.” she went back to kissing you, one hand taking a hold on your wrists to push your hands over your head as the other came down to the seam of her hoodie, pushing it up just to discover that you were wearing nothing underneath. “well would you look at that… you were ready for it, huh?” she chuckled, her free hand pinching one of your nipples, making your back arch and a whimper fall from your lips. “wether i lose or win i was gonna fuck you anyways, so why bother… isn’t that right, doll?” she teased you, grinding her thigh against your clothed and aching cunt. “but we both know that you like it best when i lose, right? you get off by me being mean to you.” her lips latched to your neck, slowly making their way up to your ear. “my girl just needs me to be rough with her, huh?” you shivered, nodding, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. she was right. “fucking answer to me when i speak.” the hand that had been rolling your nipple harshly spanked one of your thighs, making your skin burn and you let out a needy moan.

“yes, abby.” she hummed.

“good girl. now, why don’t you go wait for me in our bed, hm? and take off your clothes, want to see you spread and open for me once i get there.” you nodded, and she let go of your wrists.

you followed her command, getting to your bedroom as you heard the faucet of the bathroom opening. she had probably gone to clean her hands. you quickly got rid of your clothes, letting them aside on the floor before getting in bed, your back against the duvet and your legs spread for her to see your now drooling cunt. you wanted nothing more than to reach out in between them and touch yourself, get some relief. but you knew better. you knew abby wouldn’t like that, so you sat there, waiting for her to come to you.

she didn’t take long.

when she came back she was on her underwear and sports bra. muscles on display and pumped due to the recent exercise. you were drooling.

“look at you.” she shook her head, her eyes on your pretty cunt. her pretty cunt. “open up for me, darling, let me see you.” she said, and you blushed, letting one of your hands trail down in between your thighs, your index and middle finger making contact with your folds to spread them and show your twitching entrance to her. she groaned. “so fucking pretty.” you moaned. “and so wet… you’re soaked, princess. all that ‘cause i’m mean to you? you’re a slut.” your thighs shook at the name, your clit throbbed, awaiting to be touched. “you like it when i take it out on you, baby? when i use you like a little toy?” you nodded, making her need to fuck you bigger. “of course you do. ‘cause that’s all you are, my pretty little toy.” you watched as she made her way to the bed, abs flexing, strong thighs spreading. your back arched when her fingers met your exposed and open pussy, a whimper ripping your throat when she slapped your clit. “you just can’t wait to be fucked, can you?” your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she suddenly and harshly pushed two of her thick fingers inside your tight walls. “sucking my fingers right in like the whore you are.”

“abby…!” you whined as she started to fuck them in and out of you. they slid so easily. you were so wet for her. it was embarrassing, how much control she had over you.

“haven’t even started fucking you yet and look at how drenched you are.“ you moaned, your hips rutting against her touch, making her chuckle. “so desperate…”

“please, abby, please… fuck me, please.” you begged.

“want me to fuck you baby? want me to use you?” she inquired and you nodded.

“yes, please. use me. use me.” you pleaded, eyes tearing up. you needed her so badly it hurt. you were so turned on…

she took her fingers out of you, looking at how they shone with your slick before pushing them inside her mouth to taste you. you whimpered as she hummed.

“get on your knees baby, ass up.” she ordered, and you followed, laying with your tummy down against the sheets and your knees holding your ass up, your back arched as your chest rested against the mattress. you knew this was how she liked to have you, with both your holes showing. she relished on your muffled moans and cries against the pillows, how you’d hold the sheets in between your hands for support as she pounded her cock inside of you.

she put on the strap, buckling it around her hips as she stared at your drooling pussy, slick now pooling on your thighs in droplets. she groaned. she couldn’t wait to have you creaming her dick. it was big. around the 7 inches, and purple, with ridges and a great girth.

you gasped when you felt the tip tease your folds, bumping against your clit. abby was using your arousal to lube herself up. you could feel your cheeks burning at the sound of your slick folds engulfing her tip, the neediness of your twitching hole to be filled and fucked.

one of her hands took your hip as the other guided the strap to your hole, pushing in in a harsh and quick sudden thrust that had you gripping the sheets and screaming. “thaat’s it. fucking take it.” your breath got punched out of your lungs as she started to fuck you open on it, hitting your g spot with every snap of her hips. “be a good doll and sit pretty for me while i fuck you, hm?” you moaned, feeling your walls squeezing the silicone and sucking it in. her pace quickened, harshly fucking into you as she grunted. your moans were getting cut by each thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to stay up on your legs, although you couldn’t. that’s why abby was there for, grabbing your hips with such strength that will leave the marks of her fingertips on your skin. “fucking shit. pussy so good taking my cock. look at it. fucked open and drooling for more.” you whimpered, your tits bouncing and hardened nipples brushing against the sheets, making your mind feel fuzzy.

you were a babbling and moaning mess, begging for more, pleading for her to take her anger out on you, to fuck you harder, faster.

she groaned, pistoning into you until you were nothing but a body for her to let her frustrations out on. shit. she was fucking your brains out. one of her hands gripped your hair, pushing you against the sheets to keep you in place, abusing you g spot over and over and over again.

“abby!” you screamed, your walls squeezing shut around her cock, your orgasm building up on your lower stomach.

“that’s it baby. louder. let me hear you. who’s cock are you taking, hm? whose pussy is this, huh?” she inquired, and when she didn’t hear and answer she spanked you, making your body jolt.

“yours!!”

“fucking right.” she growled.

“gonna cum!” you cried out.

“yeah? you gonna cum, doll? gonna cream my cock? gonna drip for me?” you nodded. “of course you are. now be good for me and let me have it. let me see you fall apart.”

she didn’t have to ask twice, your orgasm hitting and drowning you like a tidal wave, making your world turn white and your ears ring as your moans became louder and louder.

abby fucked you through it, never backing down and keeping the same intensity, what made your orgasm last what seemed like ages. and when you thought it would die down it just kept growing.

“abby, i’m gonna cum again, i’m gonna, oh fuck!” you cried out, feeling it turn into something else. your thighs soaking wet in your squirt as your back arched, her cock sliding in and out of your pussy so easily…

abby groaned, the back of the strap rubbing her clit in just the perfect way.

“there it is…” she muttered, relishing on the sight, on the sound of the splashing of your juices against her hips and strap. “pussy feeling so good is crying for me.” you took it. took her anger, her frustration… but it was…

“too much! too much!” you begged, one of your hands scratching at her abs as she kept fucking you, but it didn’t stop her, the hand that pressed your head down taking both of your wrists behind your back to pull from you and on her dick. you screamed, feeling her on your cervix, and squirting non stop.

“fucking take it. stop being a fucking baby and take it.” she grunted, feeling her orgasm approaching. “gonna cum so hard. gonna fill you up, princess, fuck a baby into this pretty pussy of yours. gonna leave you dripping for a week, doll.” you whimpered.

“yes, please, cum inside, cum inside! want your cum please, abby please…” you pleaded. and that’s what made it for her.

“look at you. completely cock drunk... yeah? you want it? then take it. fuck. fucking take it.” she groaned, harshly and quickly fucking into you as she hit her peak, watching you squirt like crazy as she came and soaked her boxers. she fucked the two of you through it. by the time she was finished the sheets completely soaked.

she let go of you, your cunt trying to still suck her in, making you whine as she pulled out of you and let go of your wrists, making you fall against the sheets. you were breathless, boneless. she had fucked you completely dumb. your whole body was shaking in exhaustion and the high of your orgasms.

your cum was coating the base of her strap in a white ring, and your cunt shone under the lights of your bedroom, puffy folds reddish and swollen due to her abuse.

it was needless to say that abby wasn’t angry anymore.

-

a/n; reader is me while my crush got frustrated playing today 😫🤭

[svuguru]

Stepdad nanami using his step daughters pu33y because his wife's isn't enough

(Sorry for bad english)

No you’re good!! Tags: stepcest obv!!! Antis DNI pls m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume.

"Shh, shh, sweetheart, keep it down, okay?" Kento whispers as he slides his cock into your tight hole, his eyes tired and half-lidded. "Mommy's in the other room so you gotta be quiet, alright? Can't have her seeing you on stepdaddy's cock, right?" You nod and cover your mouth with your hand, screwing your eyes shut as you feel his girth stretch out your little pussy.

His eyes watch the way your eyebrows knit together from the stretch and feeling, a grin tugging at his lips when he feels you pulse around him. Your eyes form tears as you watch him fit his fat cock inside of you.

Kento's not even all the way in and your warmth is already making his hips stutter. How he went his whole life without feeling your pussy wrapped around him is beyond his knowledge, he just knows that he has this sweet little girl for himself.

Your little pussy is so much better than his wife’s, so much more addicting. “‘S too big,” you pout, batting your lashes at him, looks up at him with watery, doe eyes. The way you mumble that is just too cute for Kento, his dick aching to just stuff you full of him and start moving, but he can’t in fear of hurting his precious girl.

“I know, I know, but you can take it, yeah? Be the good girl I know you are.” He murmurs against your ear, one of his hands reaching for yours to then tangle your fingers with his.

Kento’s been so sexually frustrated lately, its been unbearable, but now that he’s slowly sinking into your tight cunt, he can’t help but groan lowly into your ear. He knows it’s wrong on so many levels, but the way your walls squeeze him nice and tight and the way you whine at the overwhelming feeling is just too hard to resist.

It’s risky, he knows that, his name could be ruined if anyone were to walk in on him, but he’s willing to risk it all for his precious, innocent stepdaughter.

“‘M gonna move now, okay?” Kento throbs inside of you, and you’re pussy is so wet at the way he speaks and looks at you. You nod your head and pucker your little glossy lips in a pout, which results in Kento pressing his lips against yours gently.

You feel him slowly move his hips forward only a few seconds later, you feel him grunt against your lips. “Fuck,” he murmurs. Your legs wrap themselves around Kento’s waist, impatiently pushing him deeper into you against his better judgment. “Patience, okay, baby?” And of course, you listen, even despite your whimper. He’s your generous stepdad, you could never disobey him.

A very itty bitty tiny part of you wants your mother to walk in just so she could see her husband fucking her daughter. Seeing him stuffing you full, his cock buried deep in your warm cunt.

“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” Kento grunts, “so, so pretty.” That just gets you drooling on his dick, clenching around him, a tear falling from your little eyes. He plants a kiss to your forehead, then your temples, then your nose, your cheeks, but successfully neglects your lips just to mess around. “Love you,” and a small crosses his features.

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ pleasures of the flesh

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend kaveh was skilled in many things, but especially in the bedroom // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. dirty talk, soft dom kaveh (?) & skilled kaveh and passionate love making ᰔ, fem! reader

kaveh listens to your soft broken voice and admires each tone you utter towards him with a smile blown across his entire face.

and just as much as he longed to give you the world, in this, it escapes him again, the twist and crush in his stomach when he reminds himself that he’s save with you, in your arms, that whatever happens, he’d still be overflown with an intimate warmth coming from you, his soulmate.

"yesplease— ka-kaveh," your moans were comparatively breathy and tilted, as if pitched up to appear shy and vulnerable. the fault lies upon how well and content he treated your body, because he was one to always take his time with you— in his own state of mind, you had to be divine, sublime and deserved to be treated as such.

"h-hows that? gonna make it feel good, ’promise, baby, promise," he confidently mewls his words, gingerly grinding his hips into your soft insides, again a little deeper but not overdoing it, awaiting your reactions but also groaning as he caught the slight twitch on your bottom lip whenever he rubbed over the selected spots.

the feeling of love after all this time was still consuming him as intense as day one— and his digits travel over your sensitive chest to slide his palm over your breasts, handling your soft mounds with care while settling his cock inside of you. kaveh’s pale skin delicately glows red and his breath quickens when he ghosts over your erected nipples, filling him with pride that your bodies reactions were this intense and graceful.

"closer, ‘i want you closer, closer, closer, fuck— " it doesn’t need a genius to figure out that your boyfriend kaveh was skilled in this, beyond attentive with his attention fully fixed on the current motion. what a perfect and content lover he was too, because even before pleasuring your most beloved inches, kissing your lips in tune with his slow— but deep hurdles, he’d study what would turn you into a crying mess, vulnerable— or have your legs helplessly shake around his hips.

"closer? gonna get so close to you, yeah? everything my baby wants," he whispers and coats your glossy lips with his erratic breathing, "whatever my darling wants," he manages to huff out, "been wanting to feel you like this all fucking week,"

ever so slightly, he builds up your approaching climax, the prickling burn ringing and screaming across your lower area when he began to rock you back and forth his erection, back and forth back and forth, faster and more passionate with the desire to make you climax first— though clinging on you so he could look into your dilated, glistering pupils the moment you cum on his cock.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[angel-of-the-moons]

Aggravating

Dad Bod!Miguel x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/CW: Smut. Smut in general. NSFW, PIV sex, office sex, teeth, hints at venom useage, a bit of pining(?) feelings! Body hair! Soft tummy Miguel! Dom(ish)!Miguel, a bit of bullying

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Blame @cupcakeinat0r for this. I really needed the distraction and our conversation is helping me a bit getting the creative among other things juices flowing!

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You had been... less than covert about the way you ogled your boss. On one hand, your Spidey mask was useful for hiding your eyes and face away from somebody's view; on the other hand, Miguel just somehow knew you were staring at him.

And... yeah. At first you were crushing on him, a young, single fresh-faced Spidey welcomed into a bigger picture suddenly comes face to face with the body of a Greek god. He swooped in to save you from a variant of Kraven before he could make a possibly fatal swipe.

After that, he admitted that he'd had an eye on you, such a promising candidate who just needed the right amount of guidance.

(The fact he has that gorgeous jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass plus those jaw-dropping eyes of his certainly helped you make your decision too.)

But you had been too much of a wimp to ever fess up, instead settling for pining in silence, throwing the occasional stare his way at his perfectly globed ass. (Seriously, did he purposefully design his suit to accentuate his ass or what?)

But the plain, flat-out ogling didn't begin until he began to gain more weight. Realizing his stress didn't have to be solely on his own shoulders, Miguel began to relax. He began to eat more, sleep more. Or, well, as much as a normal person should be eating and sleeping. You surmised he was likely dehydrated a lot, too...

Because once he picked up a steady diet (of what you didn't know, maybe he was a secret chef in the kitchen in addition to having the multiverse's greatest brain?) he began to look... healthier.

He gained weight, his formerly slim and perfectly cut abs and waistline began to fatten out, gain a delicious softness you wished to just lay your head over, or perhaps snuggle and squeeze.

Peter B made a joke to Miguel about comparing "dad bods" and god, when Miguel indulged him (mostly just to get him to leave him alone) he used his tech to have the top half of his suit vanish in rainbowy spiderweb-like patterns until he was naked from the waist up.

And... fuck. Your legs went weak at the sight of him.

Dark wisps of hair across his chest, spreading down his soft, plush-looking midsection to disappear beneath the waistline of his pants.

Even with that soft belly, Miguel looked built like a shitbrick house. Peter B had pouted, knowing he'd lost his little game before sauntering away, bragging about something along the lines of "well at least I have the prettiest baby mama in the whole multiverse!". Good for him, you had thought.

But very quickly as your eyes greedily raked up his frame, you realized he had been staring right back at you.

You very quickly rattled off some excuse and dropped off your report on your most recent mission, yanked your mask back down your face and scurried out of there.

Though you'd be lying if you didn't immediately shove your hand down your pants once you got home, playing with yourself at the mere thought of being pressed up against Miguel's soft-yet-imposing frame; feeling his dick (oh you just knew he was packing a monster, down there) stuff you full and stretch you out, the coarse dark haira brushing your clit with every slam of his hips.

You went to sleep thinking this was merely some kind of office crush, trying to force down the thoughts you had of your boss.

Little did you know, he often stole his own glances at you.

He needed to find a way to solve your little problems, soon.

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"This is what you wanted, isn't it, princesa?" Miguel grunted, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass sinfully loud in his dark office.

Your body was perfectly illuminated by the dim orange lights on his monitors; every curve, dip and deliciously squeezable part of your jiggling ass as he fucked you.

The sounds your pussy made as you swallowed him deep were the most lewd you ever could have imagined yourself making, especially the little sounds coming from those pretty lips of yours.

Your suit has been torn right between your legs, freeing your soaked, swollen folds to his lascivious gaze before he had crammed two heavy fingers into your needy cunt.

Your tits squished against his desktop, and a whimper comes from you when he settles over you, the weight of his body pressing tighter down around you.

You could feel the soft flesh of his belly mold around your back, almost like a hug. Almost like how he had your head trapped in a headlock as he bullied his cock into you and stuffed you full of him.

Your brain was so set on your one-track focus of how good it felt to just have him fuck you, to use you, that you barely registered a word he said.

Having his warmth surround you and fill you had effectively rendered you dumb.

You choked slightly when you heard him hiss in your ear, his sharp fangs grazing the soft skin; he squeezed his arm a bit around your neck and that's what knocked you back into reality.

You were here. In his office, bent over and having your guts reorganized by a man you had been pining for for months.

The pent up sexual tension had finally exploded when he confessed his own interest in you, and he met you halfway with a kiss that was all tongue and need; loud and messy.

Like how he was bullying his cock into your tight little hole.

"My dick that good, bebé?" He panted, leaning back away from you to grip your hips in his meaty palms, squeezing your soft flesh as he stared, almost mesmerized at the creamy ring at the base of his cock as it disappeared into your dripping wet pussy.

Already on the floor between you was a small puddle of your slick.

"So good that I fucked you stupid after just a couple thrusts?" He said, his voice gravelly as he tried to keep it even, to betray the fact he wanted to just rut into you like a mad animal.

All you could do in reply was whine, a breathy sound that was almost a squeak as you mourned the loss of his soft body surrounding you.

The sound of him relentlessly fucking you cunt was abruptly halted and he let out a shaky breath, staring down at you. "I swear... did I nick you with my fangs? Shit... Maybe we should stop--"

"N-no!" You moaned out, desperately trying to roll yourself back against him in his grip. "Please, don't! I just--I just need more!"

Miguel grinned as you flattened your hands on the table, desperately trying to fuck yourself onto his cock but getting nowhere.

"Ahhh there's my good girl. Doing so good f'me." He purred, leaning back over you once again, his arms caging around you, encasing you in his wonderfully soft warmth, the hair on his body tickling your skin.

His lips traced the shell of your ear, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty skin;

"Wanna watch you take my cock all day. Gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a month--"

You made a long, loud mewl as he snapped his hips in suddenly, bottoming out so hard you felt him smash into your cervix; almost making you pass out from the force of it alone.

"This is what you wanted, sweetheart. Jus' giving it all t'you." He groaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he began relentlessly pounding into you once again.

[honeyhotteoks]

lessons in intimacy (k.ys)

summary: you didn't mean to actually meet the man who's audio porn was single handedly getting you off every night, but you do.

note: this has been a looooong time coming and is dedicated to one of my best friends, grace. 💗 i hope everyone enjoys this chaotic smut fest.... also i've recently discovered that porn is actually illegal to produce or consume in korea? so suspend your disbelief for this fic lol

warnings: camboy!yeosang/barista!yeosang x fem!reader, it's a smut-a-thon barely a plot in sight featuring - nsfw/audio porn, guided masturbation, female masturbation, male masturbation, lots and lots of orgasms, use of dildo, nipple play, one night stand dynamics except they kind of fall for each other, big and i mean big dick yeosang, oral sex (f receiving), gratuitous squirting, fingering, thigh riding/grinding, protected and unprotected sex (do not do this they're being hella dumb), rough sex, maaaaaajor praise play he says good girl more times than i can count, so much use of 'baby', plus pretty girl/babygirl, absolute pleasure soft dom yeosang of our dreams, reader literally passes out from coming you're welcome

pairings: yeosang x reader

genre: smut and more smut, where's the plot???

word count: 14.5K

additional note: yeosang owns a cafe in this fic called ongozisin, it's a real cafe in seoul and you can check out their ig here! the vibes are truly so yeosang i can't even articulate it, so i just wanted to share this for the extra visual!

Paid porn for women has tiers. You stumble headfirst into this realization with your fingers stuffed inside yourself and your body slick with sweat, and there’s nothing that takes you right out of your frantic self care session than a request for your credit card number and a terms of service page. 

Your chest is heaving, legs shaking, and you feel your orgasm slip right through your fingers as you skim over his Fansly page. You should have just skipped to another one of his free audios on Pornhub like you always do, but this week was long and stressful and slightly emotionally fraught, and there’s only so many times you can ignore his husky little ad at the end of the audio file inviting you to check out the full, uncut content. 

“Jesus,” You breathe, pushing yourself up in the bed and letting your phone drop to the side as you recover your breath. 

Are you really going to do this? Are you really going to pay for porn? The internet is full of it, spilling over from every angle with any little thing you can imagine. There’s a reason Rule 34 exists, people are horny and people love attention, so if you can fathom it there’s free porn of it. 

And yet, nothing ever, ever gets you there like he does, and you’ve never even seen his face. 

You glance down at your phone again and you see his familiar header image, a deeply contrasted black and white header of tangled white sheets, and his username striking across the corner in neon green. fromryu. This is what drew you in initially, the simplicity of it all. You were sick of skimming through all of the men making porn for women with names like ‘TheMasterDominant’, ‘Your_Daddy’, or ‘forherpleasureee’ and then just listening to them groan in your ear and call you a slut for fifteen minutes. That might work for some, but it definitely doesn’t work for you. 

Ryu was different, is different. His audios are a mix of scenario based role-plays and straight forward guided masturbation for women, and you’re pretty sure he comes right along with you when you listen, but it’s just not the same.

You’ve fucked yourself to every single one of his free audios. Some of them more than once, some of them several times, if you’re being honest. You’ve always ignored his ads, because he gives so much content away for free you can’t imagine what would be behind a paywall that would get you off harder, until today. 

Your brain just couldn’t get there. You’ve heard him chuckle that chuckle before, say that line before, coax you into orgasm with those exact words before, and you need more. 

Your credit card is firmly in your hand before you can give it another thought, and with a fluttering stomach you tuck yourself into a robe and back into bed to pick a tier. With a long sip of a fresh glass of wine you lean back in your pillows and read through his welcome page. 

His tiers make you smirk, he’s funny.

Third base, full uncut audios and one special audio per month just for subscribers – $4.99/month

Just the tip, uncut audios, one special audio per month, and access to a private discord server where subscribers can make audio request submissions – $9.99/month

Every inch (and more), uncut audios, exclusive audios, access to discord, exclusive video content, and access to a private Snapchat - $24.99/month

In for a penny, in for a pound, you guess. 

You click on ‘Every inch (and more)’ and plug in your card numbers before you have a second to rethink your decision. You really hope you don’t get hit with a fraud alert that you have to explain to some poor customer service representative. 

The wheel spins, the charge goes through, and suddenly you’re in. Your mouth has never been so dry. 

There’s dozens of videos, dozens. For every audio you’ve listened to on Pornhub, there’s a video that goes with it, and for every free piece of content there’s two times as much paid video content. $24.99 was nothing compared to how many hours of content you’re suddenly sifting through. 

There’s a common thread across every video though, you can already tell from the thumbnails, Ryu still never shows his face. Almost every thumbnail is the same, a white wall and a charcoal gray couch, and a man wearing oversized black sweatpants and a tight black athletic shirt. 

His knees are parted, legs spread open and casual, and his hands rest clasped between them. You swallow thickly at the sight of his arms. He’s built. His hands are so good looking you think idly that he should just be modeling watches or something, it’s ridiculous how nice they are. His skin is tanned, veins snaking up his forearms, and silver rings across several of his long, thick fingers. Can the sight of a man’s hands make you come? Your aching clit throbs. 

You skim through the video titles and tags to try and select one and your stomach twists. His videos are even more varied than the free content he posts and organized so well you think you might be in love with him already. 

There’s a folder for role play videos, and you skim through that quickly just to see. Neighbor overhears you moaning and comes to check on you, best friend takes your virginity, boss and secretary working late, brother’s best friend slips into your room at a sleepover, step-daddy teaches his babygirl a lesson. 

Your cheeks flush hot pink and you settle further into your sheets, backing out of this folder and navigating to your tried and true favorite.

Guided masturbation and encouragement. 

There are even more videos in this folder and you skim through any of those ones that say ‘exclusive’ in the title to avoid ones you’ve already heard parts of. The hashtags alone leave you breathless and you have no idea what to choose, every video cleanly tagged with what you’ll need to be able to keep up with his instructions. Hands only, rabbit vibe, hitachi wand, bullet vibe, dildo, butt plug, nipple clamps, lubricant, massage oil, blindfold, wrist restraints, ankle restraints, the list goes on and on.

You select one at almost random with the tags ‘hands and fingers’, ‘dildo’, and ‘optional squirting’. 

The screen starts black, and for a second you’re pretty sure something’s wrong, but then you hear him. 

“Hi everyone,” Your muscles melt, and you push your noise canceling earbuds deeper into your ears, “I have something a little special today,” 

You’ve never heard him talk so casually, almost like a vlogger or something. His voice hasn’t yet shifted into that deep teasing tone that kicks off every free video, and you’re already sold on every dollar you’ve spent when he starts to just chat. 

“I got a request from a special subscriber in my discord,” He says, “someone who’s become a friend and who confided in me that she’s never been able to make herself squirt,” 

Your breath comes a little more quickly. 

“It’s not easy to do, I know,” He says, tenderly, the screen still black, “and I want you all to know that if you’re still struggling after this audio, that’s okay. It takes time, and your body is not a sex toy. There’s not a perfect combination that works for every person with a vagina,” 

Your brow quirks at the inclusivity of his language choice and you smile a little, easing yourself down in the bed to keep listening to him. 

“But I’m going to do my best to help you,” He continues, “so while I get set up over here, I need you to get your own space ready. Get up out of bed or off the couch, but keep me with you, okay, baby?” 

You’re shaking and he hasn’t even said anything sexy yet. You don’t always listen perfectly to instructions, sometimes you skip ahead a bit and get to the good stuff just to get yourself off, but this time it’s different. You tuck your phone in your robe pocket and stand. 

“For this session,” You can almost see the smile in his voice and you try to imagine him, “you’ll need a couple of good towels laid out across your space. You’ll need to drink a big glass of water before we get started, and then I want you to find your best dildo, the one that really makes you come hard. The one that fills you up just right, that hits that tender little place you wish I was touching with my fingers,” 

He’s going to make you come so hard you see Jesus, you can tell already. 

“We need everything to be perfect,” He says, “and for you to be comfortable. Tonight is not the night to test out that new toy, okay? Tonight is for you and me, so go and get your supplies, and I’ll tell you all about my day. I’ll be your favorite little sexy podcast.”

As he starts warmly talking to his audience about his long lazy morning off work, you nearly crumble. You’re really not supposed to be getting a crush on this guy, but here you fucking are. He’s sweet, casual and laughs a little while he talks, and while you gather up the towels and the water and the frankly oversized dildo, you’re smiling. 

You hear him sit down and sigh and then his voice shifts, just a little, “Alright, baby, are you ready?” 

You sink back back down to sit on your own bed and you wait. 

“Just a reminder,” He says, “I will be using female descriptors throughout this video. If you’re uncomfortable with me calling you ‘girl’, like babygirl or good girl, or referring to you as a woman in any way, I am posting the similar content with male descriptors. If you’d prefer to hear baby boy or good boy, check the links below this video, okay?” 

You smile again. 

“Alright,” He hums, “now, where were we?” 

The camera clicks on and you feel the little gasp leave you. You almost forgot. 

He leans back on the couch and keeps talking, “That’s right, the lesson. Get settled over the towels, and if you’re wearing anything, it’s time to take it off for me.” 

You lay back over the towels and let your robe part open. 

“That’s so good,” He croons softly, “god, you’re so pretty, baby,” 

Your chest thumps hard. 

“Let’s start slow, okay?” His hands smooth over his thighs, “the key here is teasing, and I know how much you like it when I tease you.” 

Your hand rests on your own thigh, your other propping up the phone as you watch with rapt attention. 

“Touch your pretty thighs for me,” His voice is rich and thick in your ears, “that’s a good girl, there we go, nice and soft. Is your pussy wet? Did I do that to you again, pretty girl?” 

You’re barely breathing, eyes fixated on the screen as he strokes his own thigh through his sweatpants, slow and steady. 

“Are you aching?” He asks and you can’t help but nod, feeling like suddenly he can see you through the screen. 

“Touch just a little,” He murmurs, “but don’t jump ahead. Keep your fingers off your clit, we’re not there yet, sweetheart.” 

A little tight sound slips out of you as you follow his instructions. 

“Is your sweet slit wet?” He hums, and his hand slides up his thigh and rests over his stomach, “Are you throbbing?” 

Fuck. 

“Someday, baby,” He sighs and you watch him shift on the couch cushions, “I’ll taste you,” 

“Fuck,” You whisper. 

“But for now,” He’s smiling, you know it, “you just need to listen to me and do everything I tell you,” 

You’re nodding again. 

“I promise,” He says, “I’ll take such good care of you baby, if you listen, I promise to make you come.” 

Your stomach clenches, core fluttering, and you drift your fingertips up and down your slit, following the way his middle finger is slowly sliding back and forth on his abs. 

“Are you listening?” His voice goes husky and your head drops back into the pillows. Next time you’ll need a better way to watch him and listen and touch yourself, but you’re so incredibly desperate at this moment that it really doesn’t matter, you’ll make due. 

“You are, aren’t you?” He murmurs, “Good girl,” 

Your legs spread a little wider. 

He leans forward, you hear the rustling of the fabric and you snap your eyes back to the video to see him leaning forward, hands clasped together loosely, and you’re pretty sure you can see the outline of a bulge in his sweatpants. 

“Does it hurt?” He croons, teasing. 

You love him like this. 

“Take your hand away from your pussy,” He says, just a little more commanding, “right now, baby,” 

You pull it back reluctantly. 

“Close your eyes for a minute,” He murmurs, “spread your legs for me,” 

You comply immediately. 

“Tease your nipples,” He sounds a little breathier now and you fight the urge to watch the video, “do whatever feels good, touch your tits exactly the way you like it,” 

You roll your nipples, tugging them softly and kneading your breasts with both hands now that you’re not propping up the phone. 

“Imagine me with you,” He says, “feel my fingers sliding up your calves, my lips on your inner thigh, you can feel my breath against your sweet cunt, I know you can,” 

You’re about to come untouched, that’s the thought that rocks through your mind when your hips jerk on their own, his deep voice nestled right in your ear. 

“Look at you,” He muses, “squirming around, so fucking desperate for something inside you,” 

Your breath catches. 

“You’re so needy,” He continues, “are you making noise for me? Little pants, little moans? Are you trying to be quiet?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth, a soft scold, “Not with me, baby,” 

A moan bubbles up out of you. 

“Hands off.” 

Your eyes open immediately, and you don’t pull your hands away just yet, but you’re frozen still. You’re breathing hard, blush climbing up your chest, and your hips jerk slightly. If he doesn’t let you touch yourself soon, you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Good girl,” He says after a moment, “very good,” 

You drop your hands, scrambling for the phone so you can see what he’s going to do next. 

“Now watch me,” He instructs, holding his palm up to the camera, “take two fingers,” he separates his fingers, keeping his middle and index fingers tucked together, “and when they’re inside curl them just like this.” He crooks his fingers in a come-hither motion, “Just like this,” 

You slide your hand down your front, slipping your fingers through your soaked folds, but his voice makes you pause. 

“Go slow,” He instructs, “push them in nice and slow for me,” 

You follow his instructions. 

“There you go,” He sighs softly, “now curl your fingers,” 

You watch as he does it in the video and you follow instructions dutifully, your fingers brushing over your spongy g-spot. 

“Feel that?” He leans back, and the tent in his sweatpants makes you pant, “That perfect little spot that makes you whine so good for me?” 

You nod again, biting down on your lip, desperate to move but waiting. 

“When I say,” He slips his fingertips into his sweatpants, teasing you, “fuck your perfect pussy with those fingers,”

Sweat drips down your chest. 

His hand disappears into his sweats and he groans, “Now,” 

You don’t have to be told twice. 

“Harder,” He says, throaty and low, “I know you can,” 

A tight sound slips out of you as you work yourself, but you nearly fall apart when you watch him push down the top of his sweats. His cock is huge, there’s no other way to say it. Thick and perfect, aching pink at the head and when he wraps his hand around himself you feel the tense knot of your orgasm rushing back. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” You scramble in the sheets, pulsing your fingers in and out just like he told you to. 

“Look at you,” He says again, “fucking yourself for me. I bet you’re imagining my fingers, aren’t you? Just like I’m imagining your dripping pussy,” 

Pleasure rocks in your gut. 

“Use your other hand,” He instructs, “rub that clit for me,” 

You drop the phone like it’s hot, and you have to crane your neck to see the video, but it doesn’t matter. He’s given you the perfect permission to do exactly what you need and you have to take it. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Yeah? Do you feel like you need to come for me?” His voice gets closer to the microphone and you’re rapidly approaching the edge, “You’re so close, fuck, listen to you,” 

“God, oh god,” Your legs are trembling. 

“Do you see how hard you make me?” His fist jerks over his cock faster and your mind is unraveling, none of his other audios feel like this, “Do you know how much I want to see you come?” 

Pressure drops in your belly. 

“Fuck,” He pants, “you’re almost there, I know you want to come for me, but not until I say,” 

It’s happening whether he wants it to or not, whether you want it or not, and your fingers bear down harder on your clit, your eyes locking closed, head falling back. 

“Hands off,” He’s not teasing anymore, he’s telling, “right now, babygirl, hands off.” 

You pull your hands away and it’s possible that nothing has ever felt as bad as this one stolen orgasm. Your hands are shaking, body flushed and slick with sweat, and if any of your neighbors are up they are probably getting an earful. 

You lock eyes with the video again and his hands rest on his knees, cock standing tall and at attention, edging with you. 

“Get that dildo nice and wet,” He says, and you search your sheets for the silicone cock, “in your mouth pretty girl, imagine that’s my cock between your lips,” 

He strokes his hand slowly down his length, smearing a bead of precum down to the base of his shaft as you dip the cock between your lips and take it as far in your mouth as you can. 

“It’s time to come,” He soothes, like he knows you’re a whining, quivering mess, “I know you need it,” 

The dildo pops free from your mouth and you watch as he lifts the hem of his shirt to expose the smooth plane of his abs, “Fuck yourself with me, sweetheart,” 

Pleasure pops through you as you press the toy to your hot channel. 

“Nice and fast,” He pleads, thrusting into his fist, “don’t stop this time, not until you come,” 

The bubble inside you expands again, pressure everywhere. 

“Just trust me,” He whispers in your ear, “don’t stop. I’ve got you, I’m right here, you let go baby. Don’t fight it,” 

Your back arches up off the bedding, the muscles in your arm aching as you thrust the toy in and out of yourself, pressing it up again and again into your g-spot. 

“Come, baby,” He sounds like he’s begging, and your free hand flies down to grip the sheets, “let go, you come, that’s it, there you go,” 

You turn your head, catching sight of him again and the way he works himself over. 

“There we go,” He groans sharply, his own release spurting up ropes of cum onto his exposed chest, “can you feel me inside you? Come with me, that’s a good girl, good fucking girl,” 

He sounds dizzy, panting himself, you’ve never heard him quite like this and one final thrust sends you spilling over the edge. Your vision whites, body locking up in ecstatic pleasure, and you clap a hand over your lips to stifle the moan that rips out of you. 

It takes a minute to come back from that. Your ears ringing, and the dildo slips out of you with a final pulse from your shattering orgasm. He’s talking, you register it, but his voice sounds far away and you realize that you’ve lost your earbuds. You scramble to get them back in, pulling the video up to your eyes. 

“-And that’s okay,” He’s saying, his cock tucked away and his shirt back down, “you can try again another time if you didn’t quite get there,” 

For a second you’re confused, it was the hardest orgasm of your life, but then you remember this was intended to be a guided masturbation to squirt and you blush, alone in your apartment, at the fact that you didn’t quite get there and he’s talking to you. 

“It’s all about the build up,” He explains, “but I’m sure with a little practice we can get you there.” 

You’ve never really cared about squirting until now, but he makes it sound like a perfect date and something tells you that you’ll be back here again night after night if he’ll have you. 

“Anyway,” He sighs and you hope he’s smiling above the camera, “thank you for spending a little bit of your day with me, I hope I made you feel as good as you made me feel,” 

You blush again. 

“I’ll see you soon,” He assures, gentle like a lover would, “sleep well, jagiya,” 

The video cuts and you blink hard, you’re still smiling. 

You are so, so fucked. 

After that, Ryu becomes a problem. You wish it was just the videos and the dirty talk and the good orgasms, but it’s more than that. You just like to hear him talk now, the little bits at the beginning about his day are starting to get into your head. And then there’s the Snapchat. 

You kind of expected the private Snap to be sexy photos and videos of him in the almost pitch dark huskily saying good morning, but it isn’t. You still have never seen his face, but his videos are casual, friendly, too real for a man you spend every night fantasizing about. He chats about things he’s doing or books he’s reading while he’s cooking, filming just shoulders down so you can watch the muscles in his arms while he chops vegetables. You fall in love with the sound of his voice when he’s just talking, his stretched out s-sounds that only really peek through outside of his constructed scenes. You find yourself missing him a little on days he doesn’t post. 

You’ve gotten used to waking up with him, falling asleep with him, checking in on him during the day. His message announcements in Snapchat don’t feel like they’re for everyone, they feel like they’re for you. You know that’s not true of course, you know you’re paying a hefty monthly bill just to feel like this, but you don’t care. It’s been a while, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t just need some company. 

It’s a Thursday when everything goes to shit. 

You wake up far too late, forgetting to set the alarm on your phone after falling asleep directly after yet another Ryu narrated orgasm, and everything has been off kilter since. You’re scrambling to get to work on time and every little thing is going wrong. Your coffee machine isn’t turning on, the sweater you want to wear is still in the wash, and your umbrella will not open despite the rain that’s ruining what would have been a good hair day. 

When you decide to stop into the coffee shop across from your office it’s not even a want, it's a need. You’re already thirty minutes late, why not make it forty-five? 

You’ve never come here, not once. You’re used to going to the shop around the block from your apartment, and this place is new. Ongozisin is the kind of place you’d normally take your time in. The space is clearly industrial, concrete walls and flooring made to look unfinished. The aesthetic is still warm though, with natural dark wood furniture and bamboo accents, Joseon era paintings and a juniper bonsai along the back wall. 

To the left side of the cafe stands a bay of tall windows and the very modern, very clean point of sale. The line isn’t too long, but you can see that the pace of this place is slower by design, so maybe you’ll just round up and call it an hour late. A door opens to your left and you watch as one of the baristas steps out from a kitchen holding two black plates of colorful, carefully constructed pastries. 

The line moves ahead of you, and the person behind you softly clears their throat to jog your attention. 

You step closer, only one person ahead of you now. 

When you hear his voice you nearly reach for your phone. 

“That’s perfect,” It’s Ryu, clear as day. His voice is distinct and deep and here. 

Your eyes snap up to the barista behind the counter, your body frozen stock still as you take him in, mind spinning. 

“Do you want any cream?” He says to the woman ordering. 

Blush lights up your cheeks and all you can think about is the video you watched the night before and his voice in your ear - Do you want my cum inside you, pretty baby? 

You should leave. There’s a reason this man is anonymous on the internet, never showing an inch of his face, and Ryu isn’t even his name, it's just what you call him. He never calls himself anything in the videos, never reveals what part of Korea he lives in, never talks about his job. He doesn’t want to be found. 

You’re about to turn, run, scramble away, but his voice comes again and this time you realize he’s talking to you. The man, Ryu, smiles, “Good morning, can I get you something?” 

You’re frozen. 

“Miss?” A little crease between his brows. 

“Sorry,” You jump forwards, ignoring the annoyed huff behind you and shaking off as much of this panic as you can, “I don’t know where my head is this morning,” 

“That’s alright,” He says warmly, “that’s what I’m here for,” 

You can’t say anything, your mind blanks. 

His eyes flick over you and then he nods, “You know, coffee? To wake you up?” 

“Right!” You nod, “Sorry, yes, an americano please,” 

“Iced or hot?” He asks. 

Are you feeling hot, babygirl? Do you need to take something off for me? 

“Hot,” You say it on a reflex but then you remember yourself, “no sorry, iced, iced please,” 

“Okay, sure,” He smiles, “iced,” 

You make it through payment without too much more embarrassment, apologizing again, and then you step to the side. Another barista appears, slotting into Ryu’s place so he can turn his attention to the drinks he needs to make and you take the moment to get composed. 

He’s handsome, that’s a given. You expected that, but still he looks even better than your imagination conjured up, more real. He looks exactly right for this cafe too, his black hair long enough to brush the base of his neck with half gathered into a ponytail, pieces loose to frame his angular face. He’s dressed smartly too, black oversized trousers and a fitted black t-shirt, slim black boots, and an open jacket in a dramatic modern-hanbok style. You realize you’re staring the minute his eyes hold on yours and they crinkle up as he smiles. He has a birthmark, a smooth light pink flush across his eye and your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Long night?” He asks you, passing off a coffee in a mug to the woman who had been ahead of you in line. 

He just puts you at ease and you nod, “Something like that,” 

“Ah,” He knocks out the round cake of used espresso from the portafilter as he talks, “and you look like you got caught in the rain, don’t you have an umbrella?” 

“Broken,” You grimace, “it’s been one of those mornings,” 

“Mm,” He nods, focusing on queueing up espresso for your americano, but while the shots pull he turns back to you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

You shake your head, “No, first time,” 

“Do you like it?” He gestures around with a nod of his head. 

“Very much,” You smile, “it’s a great space,” 

He smiles again, looking proud, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “we haven’t been open very long, but so far people have seemed to enjoy it,” 

“Oh,” You watch him pour your espresso over ice, “is the cafe yours?” 

He nods, “Mine and my friend’s,” 

You wish you weren’t late, you wish you were able to stay just a little longer. 

“Well,” You tell him honestly, “it’s beautiful here, I’ll have to come in more often, I only work across the street.”

“Ah,” He nods, “I thought you looked familiar,” 

Blush creeps up your neck. 

“Did you need cream?” He asks and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your pulse quickens at his words, but he nods towards your coffee and you shake your head. 

“Thank you,” You take the cup off the bar and step back, “I appreciate it.” 

“I hope that helps,” He says, and then he glances behind you at the large round window, “actually, I’m sorry, can you wait one moment?” 

“Sure,” You watch him duck out from behind the bar, making a quick beeline for the swinging door that leads back into the kitchen. You have no idea what he could want, there’s no way you’d be recognized by him except as a stranger on the street, and your stomach knots up. 

It takes him a moment, but he darts back out, a long black umbrella in his hand, “Take this,” 

“I can’t do that,” You wave a hand, “I’m only across the street, but that’s really kind of you,” 

“If you’re only across the street then I know where to go to get it back,” He shakes his head, “just take it, it’s raining like crazy out there,” 

He presses the handle of the umbrella into your free hand, and your breath catches in your throat, his skin brushing against yours. Your eyes flick over his rings, just the same as always. A signet with a deep black stone, a hammered silver band, a clearly vintage one on his index finger that looks like an old Catholic saint token, the finer details rubbed away with age. 

“What time do you close?” You ask, accepting the umbrella. 

“Seven,” 

“I’ll bring it back after work then,” You tell him, “is that alright?”

He nods, “But if it’s still raining, just keep it. Bring it by tomorrow,” 

“Tomorrow,” You nod. 

“Mhm,” He nods, something warm in his expression, “this will have to be your new usual spot,” 

Is he flirting? You’re wholly and entirely unprepared to deal with that considering the way you moaned his name last night. Something clicks in your brain at that thought though and you nod, “Maybe it will. I’m y/n, by the way,” 

“Yeosang,” He smiles, “it’s very nice to meet you.” 

Yeosang.

“You too,” You dip your head, “and thank you again for this,” 

“Of course,” He says, “I hope this turns your morning around a little,” 

You open your mouth to say something, but there’s a voice from the cafe bar that slices cleanly between your conversation, “Yeosang-ah!” 

Yeosang glances back and then he sighs, just a little, “I have to go,” he tells you, “but I’ll see you again,” 

“See you again,” 

He’s back behind the bar before you can blink, focusing on each customer’s order. The man who called his name is grinning, and you wonder idly if he’s the friend who owns the cafe with Yeosang or just a part-timer. 

With your stomach fluttering, you push out into the rain to get to work, Yeosang’s name on a loop in your brain for the rest of the day. When you get home, his umbrella resting by the door, you delete his Snapchat from your contacts and unsubscribe from his Fansly account. 

Ongozisin becomes a daily ritual. 

The money you used to spend on his Fansly now goes straight into the cafe, first thing in the morning before work and a last lingering stop in the evening before you go home. 

On busy days you barely get to see him and sometimes you’re left just chatting with Wooyoung, his best friend and business partner. You like him too, you like the atmosphere and their kind warmth, but if you’re being honest you find yourself living for slow days. The days where you’ve timed it just right to have a little talk before the rush of the day or the closing tasks of the evening. 

Little by little, Ryu fades from your mind, and the man in front of you is just Yeosang. The guy who runs your favorite coffee shop, the guy who dresses almost otherworldly, who smiles wide but only when you say something truly funny, who sometimes gets lost in his own head while he’s making cappuccinos. 

He’s lovely. 

Sometimes you think he might be flirting, a little more suavely and charismatic than his business partner who asked if you had a crush on him since you were coming into the cafe so much. Sometimes Yeosang adds a little extra treat to your plate of food or he adds pretty latte art to your cup if you’re staying in the cafe. That might be nothing, but it certainly might be something. 

It isn’t until another day of rain, harsh pelting rain, that Yeosang appears at your table. 

“We close soon,” He says, and when he sees the brief flash of concern that you’ve overstayed your welcome on your face he shakes his head, “sorry, I meant to ask, how are you getting home tonight?” 

“The train,” You glance outside. 

His nose crinkles, “You don’t have an umbrella today either,”

“True,” You look down at your belongings, “I didn’t check the weather,” 

“If you wait a bit for us to lock up,” He says, “I’d be happy to walk you to the station,” 

“Oh,” 

“Or if you’re not busy,” He clears his throat softly, “I could walk you to this little restaurant around the corner?” 

Flirting, then. 

You smile and nod, trying to keep your eagerness tamped down to a normal amount, “Are you asking me out, Yeosang?” 

He grins, “I’ve been trying to,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly, “I’ll wait, dinner sounds nice,” 

His shoulders sag, a little relief in his expression and he clears away your empty cup as he says, “I’ll be quick,”

You catch Wooyoung slapping his friend's shoulder as he disappears into the back room, and before you know it you’re blushing and sitting across from this man at the restaurant down the block. 

Dinner is so smooth it feels surreal. It turns out you both like the same music, and several books too, and you’ve never been on a date with a man who asked you so many questions about yourself and didn’t just talk your ear off. Dinner stretches long too, and you’re strangely grateful it’s a Friday when you finally do check the time. He has to work on Saturday at the cafe, but not until a little later in the morning, and so neither one of you really wants to call it quits. 

The after dinner walk turns meandering, and then his hand is brushing against yours, knuckles to knuckles. 

You don’t think of him as Ryu until his fingers brush down your back, lips close to your ear when he finally asks you. The way he does makes your body melt - I hope I’m not ruining things by asking, but would you like to come home with me tonight?

You agree before your mind catches up to itself, but every step of the walk to his apartment has your heart picking up speed. You had forgotten on the date how you met him, really met him, and your gut churns. 

Do you tell him? Do you lie? 

Everytime he grins at you, touches you, tucks his long hair behind his ear and nods, you can’t imagine a one night stand. You could maybe swallow the truth if that’s all this was to you, but it’s not, and so you can’t. 

On his block you feel the internal countdown ticking. 

“You can change your mind, you know,” He offers, noticing how you’ve gone quiet, and it pulls you straight out of your thoughts. 

“Oh,” Your head snaps up, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to change my mind at all, I just got a little lost in thought.” 

He nods, this time finding your hand and giving you a squeeze, his steps slowing as you approach his building, “Can I ask what about?” 

You nod, returning the soft pulse of his hand in yours before separating your skin from his. His eyes flick down to your hands, and then back up to your eyes. 

“I have a bit of a confession,” You swallow hard, “something I think I should tell you before we go upstairs,” 

“Okay,” He leans against the stone wall behind him, “is everything alright?” 

“I hope so,” You nod, “I just feel like there’s something I should say now, and if it makes you uncomfortable at all, just be honest. I’ll go home, no hard feelings,” 

“y/n,” His brows draw together in confusion, “what’s going on?” 

You take a deep breath, taking a step back to get a little breathing room, “I recognized you when I came into the cafe that first day,” 

“Recognized me?” 

“Yeah,” You clear your throat, your chest feeling tight, “for the past few months I’ve been… a subscriber,”

“A subscriber,” He repeats, and for a brief flickering second you wonder to yourself if this man just looks and sounds and feels exactly like Ryu but isn’t, but then his face blanches, “oh,” 

“I’m not anymore,” You shake your head, “and clearly you like your privacy, so I didn’t know how to just come out and say it, but if you’re actually interested in me and not just being flirty at the cafe then I just can’t lie to you… I don’t want to start something with a lie,” 

He’s quiet, and then his eyes flick down. 

It was so, so nice while it lasted. 

“I should have told you sooner,” Your stomach flips and you take another step back, “and I completely understand that you’re upset, I’ll just, I won’t say anything to anyone and it was lovely getting to know you, and I’m sorry, I’ll go,” 

His head snaps up, “Go? y/n, stop, slow down,” 

His hands smooth down your forearms as he jumps forwards, pulling you gently back towards him. Your heart is beating so loud you can practically hear it, “I’m sorry,” 

“I’m not upset,” He assures, “can we go inside to talk? I don’t want to do this in the street,” 

You nod, letting him lead you through the garden gate and up towards the house, but his words pulse on a loop in your mind. You hope he’s good at letting you down easy because this hurts. You should have known it that first day at the cafe, you should have stayed away and not played with fire. 

His house is small, but very nice and despite being sparsely decorated, you like it. You feel trapped in the entryway so unsure of what to do in this space, especially when you recognize the corner of his gray couch. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?” He interrupts your thoughts, “I have wine, probably some soju, and a bottle of truly undrinkable Japanese whisky,” 

“Undrinkable?” You blink. 

“I think it’s supposed to be very good if you like whisky,” He explains, “it was a gift,” 

“Ah,” You couldn’t feel more awkward if you tried, “wine, I guess?” 

“Okay,” He smiles, a close lipped polite smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes, “well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll get us a drink and then we can talk,” 

“Sure,” You’re still frozen as he walks away down the hall to what you presume is the kitchen. It takes a minute to unstick yourself, but you make your way to the couch and wait. 

He returns with two glasses of red wine and then he sits in the chair opposite you, not on the stretch of couch next to you. 

“Sorry,” You take the wine, stomach flip flopping, “I know this isn’t how you thought the night would go,” 

“Mm,” He nods, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know what to say,” You tell him honestly. 

He nods, looking anywhere but at you until he finally meets your eyes again, “You’re not a subscriber anymore?” 

“No,” You tell him firmly. 

“Why?” He asks, and the question hangs between you. 

“When I recognized you at the cafe and you were being so nice to me,” You explain, “it occurred to me that something might happen between us, as friends or otherwise, and it just felt wrong to know you as Yeosang and then… engage with your content that is clearly anonymous and meant to be private. I didn’t want to do that without you knowing,” 

He nods, setting his glass on the nearby coffee table, “I see,” 

“You are keeping it private, right? I feel like you’re careful to not overshare,” 

“Yes,” He nods, “no one knows.” 

“Then I really am sorry,” You set your own glass aside and lean forwards, “I’m sure you didn’t want to bring your real life as Yeosang and your online life as Ryu together, I just recognized your voice immediately that day in the cafe,”

“As Ryu?” He glances back up at you. 

“That’s what I…” You try to parse through it so it doesn’t sound like a parasocial affair, “fromryu, you know? That’s just what I filled in for your name, I guess,” 

“Ryusang,” He nods, “it’s the Hanja spelling of Yeosang,” 

“Oh,” You soften. 

“Why didn’t you mention you knew me before?” He asks, but despite his words nothing in his demeanor is upset, just curious. 

You take another large, steadying gulp of wine and nod, “I didn’t really think the cafe was an appropriate place to tell you that I’ve gotten off to your voice before,” 

He laughs sharply and looks down, “Okay, that’s fair,” 

“Right,” You murmur. 

“y/n,” He sounds hesitant and you look back up to him, “can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” 

“Did you come out with me tonight because you wanted to go out on a date with the guy from the cafe, or because you wanted to have sex with Ryu?” The question is direct and cutting. 

“With you,” You answer quickly, and now you know exactly why he’s putting this distance between you, “you, Yeosang.” 

He’s quiet, turning your words over, you can practically see him thinking. 

“Yeo,” You murmur, fighting the urge to reach out to him, “if all I wanted was that, I wouldn’t have told you. But I really like you, Yeosang, and I’d like to see more of you and see where this could go, but I completely understand if me knowing this part of you is too much. If you don’t want to go any further with me romantically or as a friend, this can just be a nice date we both had,” 

He nods and then says, “I have one more question,” 

You wait, your stomach in knots. 

“Do you have a problem with what I do?” He asks. 

“I mean,” You shake your head, “I was a subscriber, so no,” 

“I don’t mean like that,” He clarifies his words, “I mean in terms of a romantic relationship. I like my work, both the cafe and the content, and if we start seeing each other I’m not going to suddenly stop making porn just like I wouldn’t close the cafe.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” You shift over on the couch and reach towards him, resting a hand on his forearm. 

“I’ve dated a few women,” He explains, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together, “this was not something any of them were comfortable with,” 

“Oh,” You nod, but he continues. 

“A couple of them thought it might be fun,” He adds, “but when things got more serious they expected me to stop for them,” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him quietly, “I don’t expect anything like that,” 

“You don’t now,” He points out, “and neither did they in the beginning.” 

You can see the way this has fucked with his head a little, the way he keeps his shoulders stiff and turned away from you as he explains, and you suppose you might react the same way if you were in his shoes. 

You chew the inside of your lip as you think about how best to say this to him, but finally you manage it, “Yeosang,” you get his attention, “what you do for work doesn’t change what we do on a date or in bed,” 

He turns his head a little, the only indication you have that he’s really listening. 

“I have no expectation that you’re some… sex god,” You smile a little, “though my guess is that you’re pretty good at dirty talk,” 

A small smile appears on his lips. 

“If I didn’t like what you do for work I’d go find another guy,” You continue, “and I’m sorry if the other women you dated weren’t comfortable with it, but I’m not so shy about it. I like what you do, and you’ve helped me plenty, and there’s nothing more flattering than knowing you liked me enough to even bring me upstairs,” 

“Don’t sell yourself short there,” He looks up, shaking his head, “when you said yes to dinner I thought I’d be lucky if I got to so much as touch you,” 

Your heart quickens in your chest, “You, what?” 

He turns his body towards you properly now, “y/n,” he says, “I like you, I’ve liked you since you walked into the cafe soaking wet and exhausted, I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask you out for weeks.”

“I think I’m dreaming,” You breathe, and he grins at your words. You clap a hand over your lips and groan, “Sorry, I didn't mean to say that outloud,” 

“It’s honest,” He says, “I like that about you,”

“Well,” Your hands naturally separate as you lean back onto the couch, “then believe me when I tell you that I am fine with your work. All aspects of your work,” 

His eyes flick over you, gauging how honest you’re being now, “All aspects?” 

You nod again. 

“y/n,” His voice softens, “what tier subscriber were you?” 

It clicks in your brain that you haven’t really told him everything, all the things you know about him and his work. Little audio videos here and there might be forgivable to some women, but more might be too much. 

“The highest,” You tell him, “when I say everything I mean it, the videos, the Snapchat, all of it.” 

He seems to relax at that, “And if this does go somewhere,” he gestures between you both, “if we keep seeing each other. If it becomes more than a few dates,” 

You nod. 

“You’re alright knowing that even if we were dating and going to bed together every night, I spend my free time making people come on the internet for money,” He says it so plainly that you have to blink at him. 

You turn his words over and then sigh, “There’s one thing,” 

He leans back in his chair, putting a little more distance between you both, obviously braced for your words. 

“I just have a question,” You ease him, “just something I should know, I think.” 

He nods once, his shoulders tense again. 

“Do you ever talk one on one with people?” You feel your cheeks heat, “I know you do, you have the discord, but I mean do you ever do what you do alone with someone?”

He softens, “No, no I don’t,” 

“Okay,” You nod, the tense knot in your stomach relaxing, “okay, then,”

“Would that be a boundary for you?” He asks. 

“I think so,” You tell him, “it’s different when you’re making a video to upload for anyone and talking to someone, at least to me,” 

He nods, and then he moves, shifting from his position on the chair to your side on the couch. The nerves that were knotted deeply inside you start to unfurl, his proximity feeling like a peace offering, like an acceptance of your words.

“Subscribers aren’t lovers,” He says finally, “and some people blur that line with their content, but I don’t.” 

“Then, Yeosang,” You take the opportunity to slide yourself sideways a little closer to him, “I am fine with all aspects of your work, more than fine.” 

“Will you tell me if that ever changes?” He asks. 

“Yes,” You make him this promise, “I like you too, all I want is to be honest with you,” 

He nods, his fingers flexing on his thigh as he thinks. Finally, he swallows tightly, his skin flushing a little now that you’re almost pressed together on the couch, and he asks what he’s wanted to ask all night, “y/n,” he turns towards you, “can I kiss you?” 

He’s stunning this close, enough to render you speechless, breathless. You manage a single word, “Please,” 

He’s on you in a flash, and Yeosang’s lips are warm, soft and plush and as he presses into you and winds his arms around you. Your body relaxes into his instantly, the feeling of his warmth, the scent of him, rich coffee grounds and sugar infused into his skin from his work at the cafe. 

His tongue probes your mouth, his breath hot as he sighs. Your body feels alight, hot and feverish and desperate from just a single kiss. You need him inside you yesterday. 

When he breaks the kiss, you realize you’re half straddling him. Somewhere in the heat of the moment and the muddled fog you hitched a leg over his and his hands dragged you up against him so you’re chest to chest. When your mouths break apart, you’re still merely inches from each other and panting the same little breath of air. 

“y/n,” His hands explore you slowly, moving over your skin like he’s trying to learn you, “normally I would try to keep the kink to a future date, but since you already know all of my deepest, darkest fantasies, maybe we can skip ahead?” 

“Yes,” You laugh softly, “definitely,” 

“But I am realizing something,” His hands find the curve of your ass, “I’m at a disadvantage here, you’ve seen my videos, but I don’t know anything about what you like.” 

“You,” The word bubbles up and you flush red again. 

“My voice, I’m sure you like that,” He drops it a little to emphasize the husky bedroom quality of it with a teasing smile on his face, “but what videos do you like? What were your favorites?” 

He’s about to ruin you, there’s absolutely no question. Even if he was all talk you’re sure to be coming just from his words alone, but his hands, the way he touches you, there’s no doubt he has the skills to back up everything he’s ever said in the videos too. 

“Now I’m a little embarrassed,” You admit, “an hour ago we were on a first date,” 

“An hour ago I didn’t know the woman across the table had fucked herself to the thought of me,” He counters softly, “and we can slow down if you want but judging from the wet patch on my thigh I think you want to keep going,” 

You jerk your hips immediately, angling to pull them away so you can stop embarrassing yourself all over this man after a single kiss, but his hands lock down hard over your ass and he holds your body firmly against him. 

“No, no,” He adjusts his leg so that his thigh is pressed even more firmly against your cunt, “don’t be embarrassed with me,” 

“Right,” You blush darker. 

“I’ll tell you what I want,” He offers, “would that help?” 

You nod quickly. 

One of his hands shifts to lovingly stroke up and down your back as he speaks, “I want you to enjoy this more than anything. There is nothing that gets me off harder than making a partner absolutely fall apart for me, and knowing I did that for them, and I think you already know that from my content. That’s real, that’s me.” 

You shiver a little and he leans up to kiss you, softer this time. 

“I’d like this to be good for you,” He continues, “and honestly I already want to see you again, but in case it’s only one night for you I think we should make it count.” 

The night went from nothing to everything so fast your head is spinning but you nod, surging up to kiss him with your hands pressed against his chest for balance. Your core drags along his hard thigh with your momentum forwards and you gasp a little into the kiss, your hips bucking softly on their own at the sudden pleasurable sensation. You feel something stiff and warm pressing into your belly and you feel a rush of sensation between your thighs. 

“So,” He kisses you again, leaning away so he can talk to you, “tell me what videos you liked,” 

“The um,” You clear your throat softly, “the guided ones,” 

He smiles, “Those are your favorites?” 

You nod. 

“And the roleplay?” He asks. 

“Good,” You nod, “everything you do is really good,” 

“But the guided ones get you off, hmm?” He squeezes your hips. 

You nod again, “You’re very good at what you do,” 

“Guided,” He says, almost to himself, before he drags your hips up and back along his thigh, “so you like when I talk you through it?” 

You rock your hips on your own this time, picking up on his cues that he wants you to grind on him, “Mm-hmm,” 

“Tell me more about what you like,” He keeps one hand planted firmly on your backside, but the other starts to wonder, fingers teasing the skin of your collarbones before he cups your breast through your sweater. 

  “Y-you’re so comforting,” You manage as you slowly rut your body against his, “even when you’re edging me and telling me what to do, you’re just, I don’t know,” 

“Is that right?” He teases softly, his fingers toying with the top button of your closed cardigan. 

“Mm,” You sigh, pleasure truly starting to build inside you as you rock your clit lazily against him, “and you understand it takes time for women,” 

The button opens. 

“You take your time with the build up,” You sigh, finding a better position for your hands against his firm chest while you continue to rock, “and when you talk about what you wish you could do to me if you were there,” 

Two more buttons part open and he hums softly, appreciatively, “You like knowing what I want?” 

You nod, watching as he makes short work of your other buttons. 

“Maybe I should just show you,” He slides the cardigan off your shoulders until it pools around your waist, caught on your elbows, “wouldn’t that be better than just listening?”

“Y-yes,” You sigh, your hips slowing so you can let him take the lead. 

He shakes his head, pressing his hand against your ass again to keep you moving, “That’s it,” 

You moan softly, fingers gripping his shirt, “Yeosang,” 

He chuckles at your needy whine and brushes his fingers between your breasts, stroking up your chest, down and over the wire of your bra, and lower still over the soft flesh of your belly. 

“There you go,” He smiles, “I know that feels good,” 

You nod, “So good,” 

“Jagiya,” His hands slide your bra straps down, letting the soft material of the mesh cups fall and reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes, “look how pretty you are for me,” 

You’re close. 

“Don’t stop,” He murmurs, shifting under you so that he can sit up further and press his lips to your chest, “I need you to come,” 

“Yeo,” You whine, your hips sinking into a quick rolling rhythm that feels so right. 

“I need to take my time with you,” He confesses, lips traveling from the center of your chest across the swell of your breasts, “but I don’t think I can,” 

“I-I don’t want you to,” You moan, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to stay steady, “please,” 

“I want to,” He groans, “but, fuck, y/n,” 

“Yeo,” You shudder, pleasure snapping up and down your spine, “it’s not one night, it could have never been one night for me,” 

He exhales a heavy breath against your skin, hands tightening pleasantly on your rutting hips. 

You’re startlingly close to tipping over the edge, the bubble growing closer and closer to bursting, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly to focus on the sensation of him, “I-I need,” 

He grips you harder, “Tell me, baby,” 

“I, I,” You stammer, body stumbling towards coming. 

“Come on,” He says lowly, “tell me what you need, baby, I’m right here,” 

A tight sound bubbles out of your mouth and you figure it out in a second, your hand winding into the back of his hair to direct his head, pushing his mouth until you feel his lips ghost over your pebbled nipple. 

“Oh,” He groans, his tongue catching your nipple firmly and sending a shock down your back, “there we go, I’ve got you,” 

His tongue flicks over your nipple again, closing his lips over the hardened bud to suck sharply in exactly the way you need to take you right over the edge. 

“I’m,” You grip him harder, losing yourself entirely now as you grind against him for your release, “I’m so close,” 

“Come,” He pants, latching back onto your breast to keep lavishing the same attention, his arms banding tightly around you to hold your shuddering body close.  

Your finger tightens in his hair, he begs you once more to come, and your orgasm knocks into you sideways. You moan sharply, jerking against him as you fall apart, and you feel him start to move. 

He presses fast kisses across your chest, his voice soothing, “Oh, there we go,” he sighs as he feels you trembling, “fuck, what a good girl showing me exactly what she needs,” 

His words draw a groan from your lips, your head buzzing at his praise. 

“Perfect,” He sighs against your chest, “you have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen,” 

You shiver, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” His fingers trace a circle around your nipple, and something in the way he’s touching you and the sound of his voice tells you everything. He’s about to tease you, edge you, make you come, and god willing he was about to fuck you. Yeosang flicks his thumb over your nipple and smiles, “Baby, I’m going to turn you over, if you want to slow down or stop at anytime you just tell me,” 

“I think I’ll be,” You start to say, and then he maneuvers you quickly in his strong arms, gathering you close so he can turn you over on the couch, leaving you lying flat on your back against the cushions. You squeak and the way he pushes your legs together, quickly undoing the buttons on your trousers and pulling down the zip, and he glances up at the sound to check your eyes but finds nothing but your lazy post-orgasm smile. 

As he kneels and strips your trousers off he groans, “God,” 

“W-what’s wrong?” You blink, finding his eyes. 

“Absolutely nothing,” He smooths his hands up and down your bare legs, “except I’m finding it very difficult not being inside you yet,” 

“So come inside me,” You smile. 

The corner of his mouth turns up at your words, “Already, baby? It’s only the first date,” 

You process your words and roll your eyes, “You know what I meant,” 

“I do,” He smiles wider now, “but you need to come again before I fuck you,” 

“Not that I’m complaining about you touching me,” You gasp sharply as he hooks his thumbs under the sides of your thong and yanks it away, “but I’ve been daydreaming about your cock for months, so,” 

He laughs sharply, tugging his own shirt up and off over his head as he does, “I’m flattered,” 

“Shut up,” You press your thighs together and let your head flop back onto the cushions. 

“Darling,” Yeosang says, kissing each of your thighs before he starts to slowly open your legs again, “how long has it been since you’ve been with someone?” 

“Honestly?” You grimace, “A while,” 

“And how long since you’ve had anything bigger than your fingers inside you?” He asks it so plainly, so calmly, while he widens your legs and starts to tip you open, another kiss to your inner thigh. 

You shiver in his hands, “N-not that long,” 

“Hmm,” He sounds pleased at that, “do you like using toys when you fuck yourself to my voice?” 

“Fuck,” You gasp as his finger traces the softest line up and down your slit. 

“Is that a yes?” He blows a cool stream of air across your throbbing clit and you jerk in his hands. 

“Yes,” You answer quickly. 

“What I wouldn’t give to watch that,” He says, kissing your inner thigh again before he continues, “but still, I’m probably bigger than your dildo, be patient with me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You melt as he presses one finger inside your slick channel.

“Relax,” He soothes you, “just let go for me,” 

You don’t know how your life is this strange, how you went from listening to this man through your headphones while you touched yourself under the covers alone at home to his fingers sinking inside you. You’ll probably wake up from this dream with sticky thighs. There’s no way this is real. 

Those are the thoughts that dizzy you until he pushes two fingers flush into your heat and you moan sharply, your hand gripping down on one of the couch throw pillows. He feels pretty real. 

He groans, gently pumping his middle and ring finger just to get you used to the sensation, “Feel good?” 

“So good,” You sigh.

“How badly do you need to come, darling?” He asks, continuing the slow and steady thrust of his fingers. 

“So badly,” Your voice is whiny, needy, entirely informed by the feverish heat spreading through you. 

“Pretty girl,” He hums, “with an even prettier pussy,” 

“Oh, god,” You grip the pillows harder, and he’s barely doing anything to you but your legs are already starting to tremble. 

“Mmm,” His fingers begin to pulse more firmly and you feel his fingers curl, finding the spongy crook of your g-spot with practiced ease, “and you need my cock inside, don’t you?” 

“Ah, yes! Yes,” Pleasure blooms through your body. 

“Soon,” He promises. 

You moan again as he repositions, continuing the steady drumbeat of his fingers inside you as he reaches around with his opposite hand to separate your lower lips, the pad of his middle finger now alternating between maddening flicks and taps to your clit. 

“Ah! Yeo,” Your hips rock, “just like that,” 

“Good girl,” He murmurs, “telling me what you like,” 

A tight sensation fills your lower belly, a blossoming heat that spreads from your core up through your body in warm waves, “F-faster,” 

“Mm,” His thrusting picks up speed instantly, the angle slightly adjusting as he does, “that’s it,” 

The angle chance has his curled fingers pumping against your g-spot hard and suddenly the sensation drops low, almost painfully tight and sharp like you’re on the precipice of something. 

It occurs to you all at once what he’s trying to do, the way he’s trying to make your body sing, and despite the rolling waves of pleasure and how close you are to your second release, you don’t necessarily want the first time you squirt to be on Yeosang’s floor. 

“B-baby,” You whine, the pet name slipping off your tongue, “I’m gonna, I think, oh fuck,” 

“Fuck yes,” His fingers flatten down over your clit and he rubs fast, slickly rolling over your firm bud, “let go,” 

“I can’t,” You shake your head, sweat breaking out across your brow, “I’ve n-never, oh, fuck, Yeosang!”

“Come,” He commands softly, “that’s it, you come, right here, baby,” 

He’s not stopping, and with the way he’s working you there’s no way you could even if you tried. In a snap your body releases hard, a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt pulsing through your slick cunt and your legs jerk, hips snapping up as clear fluid pulses out of you. The sound that leaves your lips is wanton, broken and needy, and your ears are very clearly ringing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Yeosang hums, almost to himself, rubbing fast across your soaked slit to help coax every bit of slick from your center, “oh, baby, look at you,” 

Your legs try to snap shut at the suddenly sharp overstimulation, but all he does is take that as his cue to stop directly stimulating you and instead drop the warm flat of his tongue over every inch of your glistening pussy. You gasp sharply at the feeling, rolling your head forwards so that you can look down between your legs, and you moan softly at the sight. 

He’s buried between your thighs, lazily licking stripes up your inner thighs and over your cunt, but slowly enough that his aim isn’t to draw you into another orgasm, he just wants to taste you. To feel you on his tongue and ease you through your little aftershocks. 

“God,” You breathe after a moment, “oh, my god,” 

He chuckles, kissing the top of your mound, “Was that your first time?” 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. 

He groans a little, palming his hard cock through his trousers to readjust, “That’s an ego boost, I’m not going to lie,” 

You manage a laugh despite your dizzy, orgasm fogged brain, “Yeah?” 

“Mhm,” He strokes your thigh, “if you’re not careful I might get addicted to the way you taste when you come,” 

A shudder runs through you, “You can’t just say things like that,” 

  “It’s not a lie,” He says, “I’d spend a whole night between these thighs if you’ll let me,” 

“Mm,” You sigh, reaching down for him and brushing your fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“Now?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, “If you want my mouth, you just have to ask,” 

You shake your head, slowly starting to push yourself into a sitting position and slide your hips away from him, “Not tonight,” 

“What more can I give you tonight?” He murmurs, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, “Anything you want,” 

You cup his face, drawing him close to lock your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling into his nose, “Take me to bed, please, Yeosang,” 

“Let’s go,” He agrees, extricating himself from your arms so he can stand and offer you a hand up. 

You take it, but as you do you realize the wet puddle on the floor in front of the couch and you blush dark red, covering your mouth with your hand, “I’m so sorry,” 

“For what?” He blinks at you, and then follows your nervous eyes. 

“I didn’t realize,” You start to say but he interrupts you with a hard kiss. 

“Relax,” He says, “if we’re lucky you’ll make a mess of my room too,”

“I don’t know how I did it,” 

He laughs again, “I do,” he smiles, “now come on, I need to see you in my bed before I combust,” 

He tugs your hand, leading you down the hall until you’re in a large master bedroom. Your eyes flick over the details - industrial, warm wood, dark green sheets, soft ambient lighting. You’re about to comment on it, but he flips you back around to face him and captures your mouth in another hungry kiss. 

“God,” He backs you up to the edge of the bed, dropping you down and falling over you, “tell me I can have you,” 

“You have me,” You pant against his mouth, all thoughts of his lovely interior decor gone in an instant when you feel the hard shaft of his cock nestled between your thighs. 

“I swear next time we’ll go slow,” He grinds his hips down, rolling his length up and down your slit, only the thin fabric of his trousers separating you. 

“Please,” You buck against him, “I need you right now,” 

“Fuck,” His hands are hot, searching, “is that right, darling?” 

“Inside me,” Your hands scramble to find his waistband, “please,” 

He nods, lips still pressed against yours, and then he leans back just enough to undo his trousers and start to push down his pants and boxer briefs. 

Your mouth runs dry immediately. He wasn’t wrong about his size. You have fairly large dildos at home, thick and long and perfect for reaching all the spots you need it to, but Yeosang was bigger, thicker and longer than anything you’ve ever had inside you. 

“Condom?” He manages as he shucks off his pants. 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his perfect, aching cock and nod, “We probably should?” 

“Right,” He doesn’t push you to make a different choice, he simply searches his nightstand for a moment and produces a foil packet. 

He strokes his cock twice while he tears the packet open with his teeth, before watching you beneath him as he rolls the condom smoothly down his length, adjusting it so that it fits perfectly. 

You’re trembling with anticipation, you can feel it and so can he. 

“y/n,” He murmurs, leaning over you and pressing a hand beneath your back to finally unclip your bra, ���I want you to do something for me,” 

You nod, sliding the cardigan and bra off your body and pushing them over the edge of the bed. 

He grabs a firm looking pillow and folds it in half, “Lift your hips for me,” 

You lift up and he slides the pillow right under your backside to leave you propped up and open for him. 

“If it doesn’t feel good,” He murmurs as he maneuvers you into the position he wants, “or if I’m hurting you at all, just tell me,” 

You nod. 

“And I want you to tell me when you’re about to come,” He instructs, “I need to know,” 

You nod again, your stomach flipping with desire. 

He licks his lips, folding your legs open a little wider and slotting himself over you. He settles with one hand on your raised hip, the other braced on the bed by your head, his knees on the edge of the mattress between your splayed thighs. 

His cock finally, finally, nudges at your entrance and you grip down on the sheets below you. 

“Mm,” He groans, sinking just an inch or two into your tight heat, “you’re even tighter than I thought,” 

He pushes in a little more and you moan at the stretch, “Oh, god,” 

“Do I feel that good, babygirl?” He teases, pushing in a little more.

“So good,” You lift your head to watch the way his thick length splits you open. 

“I am bigger than your toys, aren’t I?” He rolls his hips this time, rocking himself deeper with every little thrust. 

“Y-yes,” You nod, your head dropping back to the mattress. 

“Can you take me, baby?” He murmurs low. 

“Fuck yes,” Your hips buck up again on their own as he opens you up, nearly fully sheathed inside you. 

“Just a little more,” He says, his hand tightening on your hip, “there we go, fuck, that’s it, you’re taking me so beautifully, baby,” 

Tears rush to your eyes, not from any kind of discomfort, but just from the overwhelming sensation of him. You’ve never been so full, never been so deliciously stretched and had these parts of you touched, and it rushes a blush to your chest and emotion through your veins. 

His fingers brush along your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, “Good tears, or should we stop?” 

“If you stop I’ll actually cry,” You laugh, blinking away the hazy sheen in your eyes, “you feel so fucking good,” 

“Oh,” He sighs, thrusting gently in and out of you, “what a good, good girl, you are,” 

“Jesus,” You shiver beneath him. 

“Yeah?” He starts to move now, just a bit more, rocking his cock at a steady pace in and out of your wet core, “You like when I tell you how good you are for me?” 

“Yes,” You moan, a shock of hot pleasure spiking up from your core, “please,” 

“Such a good girl letting me fuck her perfect pussy on the first date,” His voice has dropped low again, husky and direct, and you babble out a sound of pleasure as he talks, “so warm and wet,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” Your eyes roll. 

He collapses over you a little more, his desperate lips searching for yours and the angle deepens, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside you with every downward thrust of his hips. 

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin, “Baby,” you pant, “your cock, oh god,” 

He hums against your cheek, head falling slack as his lips find your throat, sucking your pulse points and no doubt searing his mark into your tender skin. He pumps his hips harder and you moan under him, cursing again and scrambling to hold him closer. 

“Such a dirty mouth,” He nips at your neck, “are you always like this, or is my cock that special?” 

All you can manage is a taught moan in response, his cockhead now continuously connecting with your sweet spot over and over and rendering you unable to string a coherent thought together. 

He groans at the way your cunt flutters and spasms and he kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair, “One of these days I’ll feel you for real,” he pants, “nothing between my cock and your sweet cunt,” 

Your back arches, your mind spinning at the thought, “Yeo,” you moan. 

“Fuck,” He chokes, “the way you’re squeezing me,” 

You make a tight sound, something between a pleasured whine and a sob, and his hips stutter and stop, pressing his cock in as deep as possible as he grips down on whatever parts of you he can, breathing hot and heavy against your skin. 

You can’t really move well in this position, but your hips rock in tiny back and forth motions to try and keep the sensation rolling through you. He’s panting into your shoulder, clearly trying to keep himself from coming too soon, and your mind commits to an idea before you have a second to double check yourself. 

“Yeo,” You tap his arm, “baby I need to move,” 

He pushes off you, his cock sliding out of your soaked core and you leg your legs straighten out, “What’s wrong,” 

The words are barely off his tongue before you’re sitting up, grabbing his hand and drawing him back to the bed, pushing him onto his back with a guiding hand to his shoulder. He lets you lead, watching you as you put him where you want him this time, and he smiles, eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“I need you,” Is all the explanation you can give, and maybe with a stranger this is foolish, borderline stupid, but you know him. He’s not a stranger really, not to you. 

With a feverish pulse of need inside you, you shift to straddle his hips, and with quick, sure hands you roll the condom up from the base of his cock and toss it to the side. 

“y/n,” He manages, but you’re lifting yourself over him now and his hands fly up to brace your waist, “are you sure?” 

“So sure,” You connect his cockhead with your slick hole and drop your hips down fast, taking the whole hard length of him inside you in one smooth motion. 

It’s his turn to moan, his head dropping back at the sensation of your wet walls and he grips at you, his hips stuttering beneath you. 

“God,” He bucks up into you, “you’re perfect,” 

“So are you,” You rock against him, finding the perfect place for your hands on his chest, “you’re so deep,” 

He moans again, and when you start to bounce up and down he curses tightly. 

“J-just don’t come inside me,” You keep bouncing, a steady fluid motion in your hips that you can tell is driving him crazy, but you have to keep your head at least a little. 

“F-fuck,” He groans, his jaw tightening as his eyes flick down to the place your bodies are joined together, “you’re making that kind of difficult,”

“I just wanted to feel you,” Your shaking arms buckle a little and you find yourself flush against his chest while you work his cock. 

“Me too,” His hands find your ass again and he starts to direct the pace, “God, I could fuck you forever,” 

A moan drops from your mouth, your hands tightening on his chest. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, and you realize your hips slowed at his words, “you feel so good riding me like that,” 

Your thighs are burning already, but you hardly care, every fast shift up and down leaves you closer and closer, “Love you cock,” 

“Mm, yeah? Say that again,” 

“I,” You curse as a spike of pleasure rolls through you, “fuck, I love your cock,” 

“Good girl,” He grips you tight, his hips jutting up to meet you now. 

Your pace falters slightly, “Please, please,” 

“I’ve got you,” He adjusts just enough to hold you steady as he fucks up into your tight heat, “I’ve got you,” 

You moan, dropping your head into his chest and shuddering against him, “Baby, oh fuck,” 

“A-are you close, jagi?” He pants, fingers digging into your hips so hard you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, “please, god, don’t stop,” 

He groans, keeping the pace of his thrusts and using his hands on your ass to maneuver you to meet his hips. 

“Shit,” You shudder in his arms, your orgasm fast approaching, “I’m coming,” 

“Come here,” He shifts you fast, rolling you up and off him and manhandling you up to your feet. 

You make a surprised noise at the lack of him inside you when you were getting so close, but you don’t have to worry for very long. Before you can open your mouth he has you standing, facing away from him, and bent over ninety degrees to brace your hands on the bed. 

He thrusts back inside you sharply, slamming his hips into yours and leaving you moaning and curling in on yourself, your legs starting to tremble. 

“Come on my cock, pretty girl,” He palms your ass before planting his hands on your hips and using the leverage to pull you back into each of his thrusts, “you’re so close,” 

Your eyes slam shut, fisting the sheets as you hang on, every sharp push of his cock driving deeper and deeper. You’re going to have bruises, you’re going to be sore, but none of it matters when he’s making you feel this good. 

You sob out a moan, collapsing forward into the bedding but he holds you up, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, his sweat slick skin connecting again and again with yours. 

“Fuck,” You groan, “I’m almost, I’m so,” 

“Touch your yourself,” He directs, interrupting your pleasured ramblings, “rub your clit for me, baby,” 

You slide a hand between your legs, locating your slick bud with ease and rolling your fingers over it quickly. 

“Fuck, there you are,” He groans, “that’s right, baby, come on my cock,” 

The same new sensation drops in your gut, your legs start to shake and you’re fairly sure that without his sure hands you’d be crumbling. 

“That’s it,” He coaxes you up, never once slowing the sharp snaps of his hips, “there you go, that’s my good girl,” 

Something unravels in your gut and you come with a shout, folding in on yourself as your legs quake and your mind whites out. Yeosang wraps his arms around you, curling over your back to keep you steady, and his cock slips free so he can stimulate you through your orgasm with his fingers, more liquid pulsing out of you as he fucks you over the edge. 

You’re a quivering mess, and he lets you drop into the sheets, pushing you onto your back so he can stand over you, one hand fisting his slick cock. 

“I’m coming,” He groans, “w-where?” 

Your hands cup your breasts automatically, and you arch up to offer yourself to him, “On me, baby, come all over me,” 

Yeosang groans sharply, his hips thrusting into his tight grip as ropes of silvery white cum paint your skin, covering your belly and breasts and dripping down your chest. He’s panting, his skin flushed pink and sweat covering every inch of his toned chest. 

It takes you both a moment to recover, both trembling in the same position as you try to regain your breath, but after a few moments he smiles a hazy, satisfied smile and finds your eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” 

Suddenly you feel a bit shy, even despite everything you’ve just done together. 

“So beautiful,” He sighs again, pushing his hair back out of his face, and then he drops to his knees. 

He hushes your soft protests and this time he tastes you slowly, but with intention. After such rough, intense sex, he follows it with the softest, slowest orgasm you’ve ever had. With slow sucks and gentle licks he brings you through a languid rolling wave that softens your limbs and leaves you sleepy and pliant in the sheets.  

You drift, falling into sleep too easily for a first date in a sort of stranger’s apartment. 

You wake a little later to a warm sensation on your skin, and you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang sitting next you, freshly showered and wearing black sweatpants and a familiar blank tank top. He draws the wet washcloth over your skin and then stops and smiles when he sees your eyes open. 

“Hey,” He murmurs. 

“Hi,” You reply softly, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 

He shakes his head, “Don’t be sorry,” 

“I think you scrambled my brain a little,” You laugh, covering your face with your hands. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” He nudges you. 

“Beyond good,” You look up at him, “are you kidding?” 

He smiles a little wider, “Good,” he says, “I drew you a bath,” 

“Oh,” Your eyebrows raise. 

“I thought you might be sore,” He explains, “I know I was a little rough, I hope you’re not feeling it too much,” 

You shake your head, “Just a little, but in a good way,” 

He nods, “Does the bath sound nice, or would you prefer a shower?” 

“Bath is perfect,” You can see that he’s suddenly a little nervous, back to the same man from your date, no trace of Ryu’s husky tones. 

“Here,” He offers you his hands to help you up, and guides you towards the connected bathroom suite. It’s large, crisp and clean, and in the corner stands a large spa-like tub filled high with warm water. 

“Thank you,” You murmur as he helps you slip into the cocoon of water, the subtle scent of lavender wafting up from the steam. 

“Mhm,” He nods, pulling a bamboo stool from the side of the sink and setting it down so he can sit at the edge of the tub and be at eye level with you. 

“This is nice,” You murmur, still finding yourself a little shy in the post-orgasm clarity of it all. 

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingertips dragging over the surface of the water and then he bites his lip. 

Your stomach sinks for a moment, nerves coming back tenfold at the idea that maybe he’d prefer you to go after this, maybe this is all you’d ever have. Maybe he reconsidered what you know about his online persona and maybe he wasn’t willing to take the leap. 

“y/n,” He sighs, “this might be forward,” 

You look up from the rippling water. 

“But what do you think about staying the night? We could order some dessert, maybe keep getting to know each other a little?” He asks. 

You can’t fight the smile that blooms over your face, “I thought you might have changed your mind,” 

“No,” He reaches into the water to find your hand, twining your fingers together, “not at all.” 

“Yeah?” You squeeze his hand. 

“I’d be crazy to let this be a one-time thing,” He lifts your hand from the bath and presses a kiss to the back, “I hope you feel the same.” 

“I really do,” You twist to the side, leaning over to find his mouth and lock your lips together. 

Yeosang cups your cheek, deepening the kiss tenderly, his tongue sweeping against yours, “What are you doing tomorrow night, then?” 

“Tomorrow?” You lean back a little. 

“Let me take you out again,” He kisses you again, softly this time, “I’m probably supposed to wait a few days, Wooyoung would tell me I seem too eager, but,” 

“Who cares about that?” You grin, leaning out of the bath far enough to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, “It’s a date,” 

“And Sunday?” His hands slide down your back. 

You nuzzle his nose with yours, “I have a date,” 

“Oh,” He says, deflating instantly. 

“You might know him,” You tease, “he owns this lovely little cafe,” 

He laughs, his forehead leaning on yours, “You’re mean,” 

“You like me,” You peck his lips. 

“I do,” He nods, “I really, really do,” 

[angelsforthenight]

BEYOND SALVAGE — ellie williams x fem!reader.

a catholic boarding school AU pt 1 🍓

pt 2 here!

you’re somebody that’s virtuous, staying in an all girls catholic boarding school. fallen victim to the vast fear of god, you try your hardest not to sin. however what happens when an embarrassing incident catches a certain rogue girl’s attention — who absolutely reeks of sin?

content: heavy religious talk, catholic, holy! reader, rebel!ellie, quiet!reader, player!ellie, ellie has piercings, ‘lil raunchy but no smut (yet heheh), v brief mention of drugs, v brief mention of porn.

a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i did back in the summer! i had accidentally (and stupidly) deleted my account :,) let’s pray people see this.

having lived in a catholic boarding school for half of your life, it’s only natural you were heavily religious. the fear of god plagued you like a disease. you were nailed on following the Word, and earning a seat in heaven — not it’s roaring, fiery counterpart.

you were a good girl: always following the rules the sisters bestowed upon you. always deemed as pure, and untainted. you prayed every night without fail: knelt beside your bed, elbows against the mattress, hands clasped together.

you had always tried your hardest to stray away from sin. however, there’d be temptations, of course. for instance, that one time you caught a bunch of girls in your dorm giggling and squealing at a porno-magazine they had randomly found somewhere. you had accidentally caught a very brief glimpse at a woman flaunting her tits and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but it made you feel something. a needy little throb between your thighs. that night, consumed with guilt, you had prayed so hard that your head hurt.

oh, and if we’re talking about temptations? ELLIE WILLIAMS had to be the hardest one yet.

take the word sinful and ellie would come to mind. she was someone you had always tried your best to avoid. rebellious, brash and cocky. it was said she was forced here as punishment from her parents. she had always been hard to discipline: had piercings (spider bites and one on her right brow), always snuck out and was notorious for smuggling in drugs.

even though ellie was a pain, there was no way the nuns could expel her since her parents sponsored the school a generous amount. they had to resort to seeing ellie as someone they could “save.”

whenever she roamed the hallways, every girl would scramble to move out of her way. she was incredibly intimidating and got into fights whenever she wanted to — both with students AND the sisters. of course you wouldn’t want to mess with her.

there were also numerous rumours circling around about her. too many to count, but one stuck with you the most: that she gets it on with girls. hearing from your gossip-gripped friends that ellie had fucked a handful of girls in your school had surprised you. you were brutally naive, so preoccupied with seeming good in the eyes of the Lord that you weren’t aware that something like that could happen. this had only made you want to stay away from ellie even more.

you were quiet, so timid and meek that you believed yourself lucky to actually have friends. your quietness allowed ellie not to notice you, not even be aware of your existence despite you two being in a lot of the same classes. you didn’t mind — in fact, you were glad. relieved, even.

that is, until the school’s annual sports day.

it was a scorching hot day in the middle of june and many of the girls were excited. not particularly because of the sports but because every time, the neighbouring all boys school would join yours. a classic boys versus girls. you didn’t really care whether the boys were here or not, as opposed to your friends who were all bashful and red-faced. you found it understandable considering they’re sheltered away from them most of the time. bless them.

you and your friends were leaning against the fence of the tennis court. you were so hot that your t-shirt stuck to the small of your back, little baby hairs glued to your forehead. bored from all the boy-talk, your eyes decided to drift to a certain auburn-haired girl: manspreading on the bench right across from you. you wondered how a woman could sit so unladylike.

ellie was out of breath, probably from doing a running activity. there was visible sweat gleaming on the corner of her forehead and her cheeks were pink. god knows why, but you allowed yourself to prolong your stare. you watched as ellie grabbed her water bottle, gulping down desperate sips; some of the water spilling and dripping down her slender neck. you watched as the skin on her neck bobbed as she sipped, heard as she panted breathlessly like a dog. you felt the skin on your cheeks begin to prickle, and you suddenly found it hard to breathe. when her pale green eyes caught yours, you immediately looked away, turning your attention back to your friends. that was the first time you two had ever made eye contact.

a moment later, it was your group’s turn to play tennis. ellie remained perched on the bench, and as you waited in the queue to have a go on batting the ball, you happened to be quite near her. you tried your very best to play it cool. ellie paid no attention, spaced-out and obviously too lazy to participate in the activities.

there were also boys in the queue, right behind you, which had got your girls in a frenzy. one of your friends decided to push you against them. “oops” she would say before purposely bumping you towards them again and again. you were awkward and uncomfortable, but you had played it off and giggled, acting as if it was funny. at a point, she accidentally pushed you too hard which made you lose your balance; stumbling on your heel and falling backwards. right onto ellie’s lap. yep! her lap.

“woah?” ellie said, caught off guard. “oh shit. go. go!” your so-called friends murmured as they scrambled off, leaving you completely and utterly humiliated. you immediately bolted off her lap as you turned around to look at her.

“i’m really sorry. that was— i mean, my f-friends were…” you began to ramble, feeling your whole body turn hot. ellie’s lips cracked up into an amused grin.

“it’s chill. not very often you get a cute girl sitting on your lap for less than a second.” she chuckled. you blushed immensely, before rapidly nodding and speeding away.

if only your little innocent self knew how quick things would change…

a/n: hooked? read pt 2 here!

[holybibly]

IT'S YOU |Woosan x reader| Part I Part 2

Genre: smut, from friends to lovers!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,6k

Summary: Sometimes drunken decisions lead to the most unexpected results and the most shocking confessions. Or, after your boyfriend cheats on you, you propose a threesome to your best friends and it might just be what they have always wanted.

WARNING: only!18+ pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, pussy eating, size kink, oral giving and receiving, double penetration, threesomes, dirty talk and more.

A/N: Here they are, our winners. I'm a little overjoyed because I'm about to try out a new style for myself (BTW, which of my styles of my work do you love most? Answer in the comments, it will help me much). One of the things I have to learn is the writing of shorter chapters. This one was so long that I had to split it into two parts. The second part won't take too long either.I'm still trying my best to write smut. So please be gentle with me.

There will be an update in a separate post about the rest of the work. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

One year ago.

It was a feeling of sweet euphoria coursing through your veins. Pure, scalding ecstasy that frothed your blood and clouded your mind. Multicolored neon lights licked greedily at your wet, naked skin, leaving acid green and poisonous pink burns on it. All your senses were overloaded, and every touch felt like a liquid flame. The throbbing bass of the deafening music echoed through your body like the beating of your own heart and completely consumed all of your other senses, except for absolute pleasure.

You lost track of the amount of alcohol you had consumed that day, shot after shot, until a pleasant fog began to form in your head, blocking out all other thoughts. The tequila flowed down your throat like water, and you were sure you'd remember how it tasted in the morning, but you didn't care what you'd done tonight or how you knew you'd feel tomorrow. You didn't care about that. Your aim was to forget yourself, to disappear into the crowd, to merge with the music until any connection to the outside world was nothing more than the beginning of the next day.

Dance, baby, dance!

The atmosphere in the club grew fuzzier and fainter, sweaty, hot bodies pressed closer together merging, the hot touches of forbidden pleasures caressing the skin with the fingertips of strangers, wet lips touching the bare, sticky skin on you shoulders, pressing rough impatient kisses into it. Too many people and too many strangers are here for nothing but fuck.

You weren't a stupid little girl who believed in virginal marriage and pink ponies; to be honest, you were far from that gentle picture. God, Wooyoung, and San had been your best friends since high school, and now you were at university, and if after all that time you couldn't repeat every position in the Kama Sutra by heart, it really surprised you. Innocence and modesty were the last words in your vocabulary, and with Wooyoung's big mouth, you were well aware of the whole of theirs sex life. And when you say everything, you mean every fucking detail, and to Wooyoung's credit, he has a great memory and meticulous storytelling.

How long has it been since you started dancing? 20 minutes—or was it two hours? You could swear that Sang and Ueyoung were at your side a minute ago. Or did they leave you alone on the dance floor hours ago?

You can't remember at all.

Your mind is buzzing, your fingertips are tingling, and your heart is pounding against your ribs from the adrenaline rush of matching the beat of some new-fangled track and creating a world of your own inside your body. This sound will vibrate more and more strongly under your skin until your brain ceases to function, allowing you to let go of all the worries in the world and give yourself over completely to the music. Alcohol really does work wonders.

Man, you felt so good.

In the back of your drunken mind, you can't help but wonder if tonight could have gone differently. Probably, but here you are, drunk as hell, huddled with a stranger on a neon dance floor instead of a soft bed in your favorite man's arms. Where the hell did you take the wrong turn? It would seem that something in the universe hasn't gone quite according to plan. Did you have any idea this morning that your sweet, perfect boyfriend would be cheating on you? Correction: he's been cheating on you for a long time. You probably never would have found out if you hadn't come home from couples earlier than usual and continued to be his "convenient girlfriend." Hell, it wasn't nice, and maybe not as hurtful, if he'd been fucking someone else instead of your best friend. Were you that bad? Weren't you good enough? Either way, you've still got time to destroy yourself—maybe tomorrow, maybe never.

Maybe you'll even think about it when you visit the bastard in the hospital. He should have known better than to even think about cheating, and the clotted blood on San's knuckles proved that. Everyone at the university knew that you were Ateez's golden girl, and to mess with you was to mess with them. And since you, Wooyoung, and San were literally glued to each other, it was tantamount to suicide. 

At the moment, the only thing that was more upsetting than the image of your ex-boyfriend driving his dick all the way up to his balls into your ex-friend's skinny body was the fact that your beautiful vintage sofa would have to be thrown away. Semen doesn't wash off. You checked.

Hongjoong is going to be absolutely devastated. That sofa was the absolute love of his life.

It's all nothing more than a vague memory of the day gone by, mixed into an indecipherable cacophony of shrill screams and blurred images. To be honest, you don't remember much of the chaos, as Wooyoung pressed your face against his chest with such force that you wouldn't be surprised to see your make-up imprinted on the light fabric of his shirt. All you could hear was loud cursing and the sound of a punch in the face. You hoped that San's punch was strong enough to break the asshole's jaw. And after that, there were a few hours of tears and emotional crisis until they'd had enough and pulled you into this club with a gentle and accepting hand: "Come on, baby, you could use a break and a change of scenery" from San, and "Fuck that scumbag, go show him what he's lost, baby" from Wooyoung. It was an absolute mystery how the two of them synchronized perfectly.

You have no idea what you would do without these two.

A few more minutes go by in this way, until you feel hot hands on your hips, pulling you closer to the hard body on your back. You don't have to turn around to see that it's San; the scent of his perfume, mixed with the sweat and the smoke of a freshly smoked cigarette, makes you dizzy, and you rest your head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the intoxicating mixture. Suddenly you want to get as close to him as possible, turn around and press your face against his hard, structured chest, breathing in deeply and sinking into him completely. Your arms reach out behind you and wrap around San's neck, tangling your fingers in the scarlet strands of hair at the nape of his neck. You feel it on your back as the action makes him purr like a cat. You wonder what other sounds you might be able to catch him making.

You shake yourself. The thought of it sends shivers down your arms and makes all the muscles in your lower abdomen tingle.

You should stop. These are bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts.

"Damn, baby girl, how much did you drink while we were away?" Wooyoung's voice is rough and husky, but his touch is gentle and careful as his fingers intertwine with yours. He has always touched you in a way that no other man in the world, with the exception of him and San, has ever been able to touch you. There was no comparison with your ex's touch. Wooyoung's touch is a promise. A promise to protect, to care, and perhaps to love? You could swear you saved the planet in your past life because you have such great friends in this one, or maybe a little more than friends, but you're not sure what to call this feeling. 

You had been friends for so long that it wasn't weird not have a crush on Wooyoung or to dream of being married to San. The guy was literally a walking husband; he was second only to Songhwa in that respect, but please, Hwa was the epitome of husband material. You might even have wanted to be in the middle of it, sandwiched between hot bodies while they literally fucked the life out of you. But it was all just thoughts. Fleeting dreams that clung to the edges of your consciousness. You were the type to date, and they were the type to fuck. You were different when it came to loving. In any case, it was all a long time ago. You had a boyfriend, and Wooyoung and San collected girls like Pokémon. Somehow, you were sure that if you slept together, your friendship would end.

You weren't ready for that. With a strength that only Jongho could match, you ignored any romantic feelings for them

"Mmm… Woo, I have no recollection, but I had fun." You licked your lips as if you were trying to taste the lingering taste of the tequila and opened your eyes to stare straight into Wooyoung's face, full of worry. He could have been the biggest bitch if he wanted to be. But for you, that 'maternal' instinct of overprotection has kicked in. You stare at him unblinkingly in that moody light, he looks beautiful, to the point of being stupidly handsome, so damn handsome that you want to pull him to you and kiss him without explanation or reason. And you can do that because you know he's never, ever going to say no to you but kiss you? Wooyoung's tongue will be the first to enter your mouth. He will suck on it like a drunk, and he will hold on to you until there is almost no air left in your lungs.

"We leave you alone, gongjunim, for five minutes, and you're already in trouble. Shall I give you a lesson in obedience?" San is speaking into your ear, loud enough for you to hear him clearly, each word coming through the loud electric bass. His voice is too sultry to be sober enough. Woo probably talked him into a few shots, although he always got drunk pretty easily. The two were threatening each other. And to you as well.

The evil voice inside your head grinned: You know you want it. He's going to punish you for being such a bad, naughty girl. He will teach you to be the best little girl for him and for them and to follow all his rules. He'll make you beg and make you cry…

Fuck, girl, come to your senses. Since when did you start to think with your pussy instead of using your brain? Or do you automatically turn into a horny, over-excited idiot after a break-up? Turn on your brains; they are your best friends.

Completely ignoring San's words, you whimpered:

"I'm thirsty." Your tongue is dry in your mouth, and your lips feel unpleasantly rough as you say the words. It looks like the fun's over for today.

San can't help but laugh at your capricious behavior, and you wriggle restlessly in his arms, trying to free yourself from his firm grip, but he only manages to hold you even tighter. You sigh in annoyance and decide to try your luck with Wooyoung.

"Woo, help me." You whine again, reaching out and pulling Wooyoung closer so that your forehead rests against his collarbone.

He smells good, like sandalwood and vanilla, like home.

Wooyoung lifts your face with his fingertips. The touch is soft and comforting, despite the roar of the music and the crowd of strangers around you. He stares intently into your eyes, almost too serious for your drunken haze. He hopes to find something more than alcohol-induced excitement.

"Come on, baby. It's time to go home." He releases your hand and carefully wipes the sweat from your forehead and cheeks with the sleeve of his shirt, his fingers lingering on your lips for a moment, and you playfully stick out your tongue and lick the pads of his fingers. God, may you not remember this tomorrow.

"But I don't want to…" You purse your lips again. You turn your head towards San, looking for his support. "Sanni, let's stay a bit more." Your big, shining eyes are not making it easy for him, but you were already quite drunk, and judging by the way your body was leaning against him, you could hardly stand properly.

"Wooyoung's right, gongjunim, it's over for you today."

Something wild in you just wants to be a brat and start arguing, but the rational part of your brain wins out. You sigh tiredly and try to wriggle out of his grip, and of course you stumble, grabbing Wooyoung's biceps with your hands in an attempt to stay on your feet and not break your high-heeled leg, which would be a great way to end the night.

A strong arm immediately wraps around your waist. It digs lightly into the exposed skin between your top and your jeans. You can feel the coldness of the thin band of his ring. It actually burns from how sensitive you were now.

"I got you, chagi." San whispers softly and hoarsely into your ear, and you cling even more tightly to Wooyoung's arm as your legs begins to shake, but no longer from the alcohol you've drunk and the tiredness, but from his sultry tone. Damn, was that a saturi, or was it just your imagination?

"We'll be on our way now, for sure." Wooyoung takes your hand once more, pulling it away from his bicep, and quickly leads you through the crowd of sweaty bodies, completely ignoring your feeble protests until you see the flashing exit sign. The red neon sign brings you ominously close to the point where you are left alone with them. And you feel San's heavy presence at your back like never before. 

The sounds of the city swallow you up and make you dizzy as Wooyoung opens the heavy metal door. Couples are kissing all over the place. Noisy groups of people are huddled together waiting for a taxi or sharing a single joint, leaving a faint smell of weed in the air. You can still hear the vibrating bass of the music that is pouring out of the club; it echoes in your head in an unpleasant way, with a slight throbbing pain. All of a sudden, all you want to do is find yourself in a warm bed, snuggled up against San or Wooyoung, or even better, against both of them.

San's hand on your waist tenses as you bend over to hail a taxi. Wooyoung's hands come down on your hips, hot and strong, and just like that, you find yourself sandwiched between them, their bodies shielding you safely from the searing cold and dirty stares. You could swear that you can hear Wooyoung swears to himself while a drunk guy is moving his tongue between two spread fingers and looking in your direction. San's body tenses instinctively. What's with all this protection? We're not in some kind of alpha-character romance; you can take care of yourself.

But in spite of that, your body still relaxes, your head leans back against Wooyoung's shoulder, and you rub your face against his like a cat.

"You're so drunk, baby." Woo chuckles and gives you a light kiss on the top of your head. "That's my girl."

My girl, just the sound of that one sentence makes a little fire start in your belly. What the hell is wrong with you today? A week ago, you were rinsing his mouth after Woo drank too much, and now you're ready to lick his mouth from the inside. 

Fuck.

All these thoughts make you lose track of what's happening until you feel the smooth leather of the car seat beneath you and the soft touch of San's lips on your bare shoulder. You moan, either from annoyance or excitement. San just smiles and presses his lips harder against you. Finally, you are going home.

You faintly hear Wooyoung giving the Uber driver the coordinates of your apartment complex, your hands intertwining again, relaxing further as Wooyoung's head rests on your shoulder. His long hair tickles the back of your neck.

Sobriety slowly begins to clear your head as the ride continues. You're still drunk, but you're much more aware than before.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, but in the confined space of the car's backseat, they can hear it well. It sets them in motion again, hands clasped around you with renewed confidence. You play mindlessly with the silver rings that adorn Wooyoung's long fingers, and you don't go unnoticed by San's light strokes on the outside of your thigh.

"All for you, chagiya." San whispers back and gives Wooyoung a meaningful look. There's something special between the two of them—a dialogue that is spoken without words but in which they both know exactly what is meant. If only you knew what was going on inside their heads…

You let your hand drop to Wooyoung's muscular thigh and ran the palm of your hand over it a couple of times, feeling the tight muscles under the skin of his trousers. He covers the palm of your hand with his own and squeezes it in a silent, gentle gesture of affection.

"I love you guys…" You whisper, sticking out your tongue to lick your suddenly dry lips. You hear them giggling together before you feel San press his nose against the soft skin of your collarbone, rubbing against it like a cat. He's the ultimate cinnamon bun; how he can be someone who's had sex with half the university is still a mystery to you.

"I love you too, gongjunim." And he means it, like he really loves you—much more than a friend should.

"Mmm, I love you more. You know that, baby." Wooyoung bites the skin on the back of your neck in a playful way, and you feel his wet tongue pressing against the site of the bite for a few seconds. 

"You're not sleeping in my bed. Woo, stop it; that tactic won't work on me anymore."

He whimpers back with a puff of his swollen lips, turning his face away from you with an irritated roll of his eyes as you and San laugh, his arms naturally wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body so that you're practically sitting on his lap. A faint melody, from some kind of soft track, pours out of the speakers and lulls you into a state of serenity. You find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. Your body relaxes even more in San's arms.

The next twenty minutes fly by, and you only begin to wake up when the cab door slams behind you and Wooyoung drags you into her flat. The fobs on your keys jingle loudly in the silence of the corridor as San fiddles with them to unlock the door. You sway in Woo's arms as you wait for the door to your apartment to open. The soothing scent of neroli and orchids greets you as you enter, your body automatically relaxing into the safety of your personal space, and you fall wearily into the armchair opposite sofa.

As the door closes, you hear the sound of the boys hurrying down the corridor, taking off their shoes and jackets. You can imagine San carefully placing his shoes next to yours and Wooyoung's one shoe being kicked further down the corridor. So damn different.

Woo sprints into the kitchen, slams the door of the fridge shut, and there is a bottle of cold water in front of your face.

"Here you go, starlight." He sinks to the floor at your feet and leans back against them, resting his head in your lap as he does so. You run your fingers through his long black hair, brushing it away from his face, and meet his gaze with your own. It's familiar; away from the deafening music and the sweaty crowd, you feel much better now, despite the fact that a few hours ago your ex was fucking your friend on the couch across the hall. This is still your home, and you're sure that in a few days your entire apartment will be taken apart and put back together by the caring hands of Seonghwa and Yeosang, when there won't be a trace of your failed past relationships left.   "Are you okay?" San asks, leaning against the doorjamb.

"I'm… fine, yeah. Probably not as good as I'd like to be, but I'll be fine; it'll just take some time. At the moment, I'm just tired of it all."

"Go take a shower, sweetie; San and I will take care of the rest." Wooyoung says as he gets up from the floor and pulls the leather jacket off of his shoulders. The wide collar of his black t-shirt shows the tattoo on his back. You always found that part of him extremely sexy.

You rise from your chair, grimacing at the pain in your legs after so many hours in high heels. Your top falls to the floor as you take it off, the lace of your black lingerie clinging to your body like a second skin. They've seen you naked more than once or twice, and in any case, you're not one of those cute girls who blushes at every opportunity. You have to struggle to pull your jeans down your legs because they are so tight around your arse. The next thing to come off is your underwear, which you leaves halfway to the toilet somewhere. You let them take care of that too.

The level of intimacy that you have with San and Wooyoung is so high that it virtually erases any barrier to acceptable standards of friendship. Years of shared memories, from when you started high school to when you practically star graduates of Seoul National University. God, the things you've done and the situations you've been in—it's been a hectic time. The three of you literally know each other to your bones—sharing habits, feelings, clothes, and even some sexual practices under the influence of alcohol and chance. You've seen them fuck; they've held your hair when you've puked, helped with periods, you've seen them jerking off in the morning or heard them moaning loudly in the bathroom, you all watched porn together—it's all been part of your friendship. In a way, the three of you have been completely and utterly shameless.

You close the bathroom door and stare wearily at your reflection in the large mirror. Your hair is disheveled from those beautiful waves there's not a trace, your skin is glistening with sweat, your make-up looks messy—a bit of smudged eyeliner, smeared lipstick—and in general, you look like you've been beaten up. The pupils of your eyes are dilated, even though you're still feeling sleepy, and there's a bit of puffiness under your eyes from previous tantrum.

Wow, you look like a real mess. You turn away from the mirror, turn on the tap of water, and sink back into your usual daily routine. The water cleanses not only your body but also your mind, spectacularly washing away all the memories and regrets of the day.

It seems to be at least a minute before you hear the sound of a heavy knock on the door. San's voice is muffled over the sound of water and steam, rough, husky, and incredibly sexy, sending electric shocks through your body and unexpected heat building between your thighs. Your fingers turn the handle, stopping the water from flowing, and you take a few long breaths, trying to get rid of this strange feeling. What's wrong with you today?

"Chagi, are you okay?"

You mooed in response, stepped out of the shower, and wrapped the towel around your body before opening the door to face him. He's standing across the bathtub, slumped against the wall, so soft and fluffy, when you open the door. San has changed into a pair of loose pajamas, which are very cute, according to your taste. He has washed off his make-up and generally looks more like an adorable bun than the voluptuous demon he is supposed to be at the university.

"What the hell took you so long? Wooyoung's already starting to climb the wall from here." He whimpers with a pucker on his lips.

"I needed some time to myself, Sanni."

He bites his bottom lip before nodding. His burning gaze travels over you from head to toe, lingering a little longer than usual on your thighs and breasts, and your body heats up at the sensation. When your eyes meet, there is an emotion that you are unfamiliar with that hovers just above the surface of his gleaming dark irises. Something predatory flashes across his face, just for a second, but it's enough to make your skin tingle with an unknown sense of anticipation.

"Just a few more minutes, and then I'll be on my way, all right? Tell Wooyoung to be a little more patient."

"Alright."

You step back into the tub, close the door behind you, and press your back against the wall. You bite your lips, trying to hold back a groan of disappointment. It's not that after all these years of friendship you've never felt sexually aroused in their presence; after all, Wooyoung and San were so damn attractive and even flirtatious to the point of insanity, they fit the cliché of lusty, popular boys at university so well.

Perhaps you had once or twice wondered what it would be like to be close to one of them, or even better, both of them—what their bodies would feel like and what their tastes would be like. Yet, consciously ignoring any romantic urges in their direction, you buried those thoughts deep in the back of your mind. You didn't want to think about how beautiful San's smile was, with those sweet dimples, or how your skin burned under Woo's playful, incessant kisses. But those were only fragmentary thoughts, a dangerous feeling creeping into your heart.

For a while your hunger for them was satisfied by a succession of boy toys until you found yourself a steady boyfriend, well until you caught him with one of your girlfriends tonight. Either way, the sex was hardly satisfying enough to get too upset about, but still, the ache in your heart and your bottom-punched self-esteem stung like a bitch.

But today there was something different between the three of you; on a day like any other, there was a different feeling. It wasn't anything special; San's tearful face had been tucked between your breasts more than once or twice after another romantic fiasco, and Wooyoung had been a complete fool in love, getting burned so many times because he wore his heart on his sleeve. You have been friends long enough to know how to comfort each other after breaking up. You have never experienced such a tension between the three of you before.

There was a barely perceptible change in the air; there was an electric tension in the chemistry between you; a crackle in the air like a thunderstorm was about to break. The storm was coming at a furious pace, and you weren't sure if you were going to be able to handle it. To end up between them was like voluntarily stepping into a hurricane rated at twelve. Was that what you wanted? You probably did. Did they want it? There was no way of knowing. Would things have changed if you'd fucked, yes, of course, but would you have had a 'happily ever after', you weren't so sure.

You brush your hair with your fingertips, hissing in pain when you can't untangle the tangled locks, and continue this compulsive action as you step out of the suddenly claustrophobic space of the bathroom. The corridor is cold, and the change in temperature causes goose bumps to run down the length of your skin. Cold air climbs under the towel's edges, clinging uncomfortably to your tender inner thighs.

"I left some fresh clothes for you on the dresser next to the bathtub. Didn't you notice?" San asks. His pronunciation is as simple as if he hadn't been the one who just a few minutes ago ate you alive with his eyes. He is sitting on the arm of the chair Wooyoung is comfortably ensconced in, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

The couch, which was once your favorite place to be, is clearly in disuse. You're already anticipating Hongjoong's endless complaints about it. That couch was the love of his life.

Wooyoung has changed his clothes too; there's no trace of the seductive college hottie left; the stretchy top of the oversized shirt slipping off his shoulders to expose his collarbones made him look so tiny and cuddly; and the soft disheveled hair falling over his face gave his features something adorably puppyish. They both looked homely and terribly comfortable, as if this was legitimately their home and not yours, as if their place had always been here, the space they belonged to.

"It's stuffy. I don't want to get dressed." You reply, pulling the towel tighter around your chest. You actually contradict yourself by wrapping your arms around yourself, but you don't want to explain anything to them either.

"Personally, I like it all; you can keep going, baby."

"Of course you like it, Woo; we all know about your love for exhibitionism." You say this nonchalantly and let your body fall into Wooyoung's lap, not caring that you're actually naked under the towel or that his shirt is getting wet as the water from your wet hair drips onto it. You're trapped between their bodies again, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like the feeling. You savor his scent and the feel of his smooth skin as your face sinks into the curve of Woo's neck.

You all sink into a nice, relaxing silence as the boys scroll through endless social media feeds, your eyes grow heavier, and the need for sleep becomes more palpable. But you love it so much—just being around them, not thinking about anything else, feeling the way San's fingers play with your hair while you twirl the rings on Woo's fingers—that you probably have a fetish for his hands. Anyway, you don't mind.

Minutes go by like this, slowly approaching an hour. You feel content and warm as you sit on Wooyoung's gorgeous muscular thighs. He is humming something to himself, drawing scattered patterns with his fingertips on your bare thigh. Your lips press against Woo's neck, leaving a sweet kiss on his skin. He squirms beneath you, his fingers clenching tighter and tighter on your thigh. God, he's so hot.

"You're so needy, kitten," San says with laughter before you feel his lips on your shoulder. It's not a chaste, friendly kiss; no, his lips are wet with saliva, open so you can feel the scorching breath and his tongue tip gliding across your skin in slow motion. San is licking you like a cat, damn it.

"Is this a side effect of the break-up or something like that? Look at you, Peach. You're a horny mess." Wooyoung raises an eyebrow in curiosity and pulls you closer to his chest. You slide down his thighs, and the towel scratches a little higher, a little more, and they can easily see your pussy. At that thought, the familiar throbbing between your legs reminds you just how wet you are, the viscous, clear liquid threatening to run down the inside of your thighs and stain Woo's clothes.

Praying that neither of them will notice how flushed and horny you feel at this moment, you squeeze your legs together and slide your hand down to pull the towel further down your legs, as far down as possible in this position.

You're so thirsty; the lust is bubbling just beneath the surface of your skin, and the heady mix of their scent and the residual alcohol in your blood is making you feel like such a needy slut.

The rational part of your brain tells you that you should be in a completely different state right now—a mess of tears and snot, probably on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown. Somewhere between the self-destruction of your own self-esteem and a crisis of identity, But here you are, practically naked in Woo's arms, with an obscenely wet pussy and no shame whatsoever.

In contrast to the'real' half of you, something small and evil urged you to go further, to spread your legs, to expose yourself shamelessly, to ride Wu's thigh and have a hot rodeo until you couldn't cum any more, and then let San use you however he wanted; you don't mind at all being a chew toy for him. Hell, boy, all you want to do is let him fuck your brains out.

You sink your teeth into your lower lip with force; the taste of blood is almost in your mouth.

"Fuck me. I want to sleep, baby. You can use me. Let's go to bed."You whine, puffing up your cheeks.

"Okay, okay, baby, let's put the princess to bed." San lifts you from your place on Woo's lap and pulls you tightly against his chest, and you can clearly feel every ripple of muscle on that perfect body. When did he have time to get that big?

He carries you into the bedroom like a princess. Wooyoung's shuffling footsteps can be heard behind you, and you throw your head back to meet his gaze.

"We had a change of sheets. Personally, I'm in favor of burning all his stuff."

"Have I told you I love you?"

"Mmm, let me think. Maybe just a few thousand times." He gives you a cheeky smile, and you laugh.

"Love, love, love, love, I love you so much. You're the best boys in the world. You sing with a big smile on your face, and the sound of their laughter fills the bedroom. 

"We love you too; we love you so much."

If you weren't so drunk and tired, your brain might have been able to process Wooyoung's changed intonation, but you completely ignored any possible hint of how they felt about you.

San gently laid you down on the bed, and Woo's lithe body crawled beside you, snuggling against your side, hugging you like his personal teddy bear.

"Woo, let her go; she has to put on some clothes." He pulls off his T-shirt and holds the soft fabric out in front of you. Your hands lazily crumple it up in an attempt to decide whether or not to put it on, but the boys decide for you. 

Wooyoung sits you down and holds you tightly by the waist while San pulls the T-shirt over your head and pulls off the towel at the same time. You are still naked, but you are a bit more decent now.

"You're such good friends. I wish I could date someone like you." You lie back down, and Woo's hands paddle you again, as if it's his natural reflex. You're not aware of the exchange of glances between the two of them. The silent conversation that goes on between them is completely ignored.

"Hmm, someone like us?" San sits down on the bed in front of you, and in an instant, your fingers cling to his naked chest. You want so badly to sink your teeth into the smooth, bulging muscles of his chest. "Baby, aren't you afraid we're going to be jealous?"

"You and jealousy, come on. I went out with Suho, and none of you minded."

"It's because the idiot has a tiny dick." With an evil giggle, Woo whispers in your ear.

"Wooyoung!"

"He's right, chagia. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"San, not you too." You whine and give him a light tap on the shoulder.

"Well, if you were with someone like us, you'd know what it means to have a good fuck. We'd fuck your brains out, baby."

"Jung Wooyoung, wash your filthy mouth. San, tell him." You call out to your more rational friend in a resentful tone to calm Woo down.

"Well, I can't say that he's wrong. You won't be on foot for days after we are." The grin on San's face is so predatory that you can't tell that it's your sweet himbo friend. It's making the muscles at the bottom of your stomach clench in anticipation of this promise.

"You do know that I used to sleep with Yunho before I started dating Suho, right? You can hardly come as a surprise to me; he's very good."

"We know." Woo hissed in annoyance, and his arms tightened around you, planting his foot on your thigh and completely cutting off any attempt you might have made to pull away from him, even if you wanted to.

"But we're so much better." A hot palm slides just over your waist near to Wooyoung's hand, practically covering your breasts. You feel the full weight of it on your body.

"In your dreams."

For a few moments, you close your eyes and fall silent. The comforting silence lulls you to sleep, but there is one thought that keeps you from falling completely into a deep slumber. With a groan, you come back to reality, blinking slowly as your brain forms the words that seem to be too heavy on the tip of your tongue—heavy, but so damned sweet.

"I wanna… I mean, let's have threesome." 

"Sorry, what!" Wooyoung almost yells, sitting up in bed in an instant and staring at you with his eyes wide open. If the situation wasn't so serious, you could laugh at his shocked expression. "Is it an offer for sex? Right now?"

"Jesus, Wooyoung, just let me finish." You sit down as well and take each one of them by the hand. "We graduate next year, and if… if we are all free and you don't mind, maybe we can have threesomes."

"I'm ready. Why wait?" Woo clings to you like a leech. He presses every inch of his body against you so tightly that you practically melt into each other. His skin is hot, and you can feel his breath brushing against your ear and his lips touching it as he speaks. "Come, Y/N, we can do this now. I'm going to take you to heaven."

"Wooyoung, I'm serious."

You have to look at San, who's been silent the whole time. The look in his eyes is so dark, full of lust and hunger. It doesn't leave you for a second.

"San…"

"I'll do anything for you, Y/N."

"I'll be ready for you in a year if you're still willing. Now get out of the room, the both of you. Tonight I'll be alone in bed."

You push them off the bed, San rolls over on the floor with a clatter, and Wooyoung jumps up like a man who has been scalded.

"But chagi…" He whines, loud and nasty, as San drags him out of the room.

"Sweet dreams, gongjunim." That's the last thing you hear before the door slams shut behind them and you're left alone in the bedroom.

You can hear their muffled voices coming from the hallway, trying so hard to keep quiet. Wooyoung's incessant complaining, mixed with San's low muttering, effectively lulls you to sleep. You probably won't even remember tonight, let alone this stupid proposal, but little do you know that neither San nor Wooyoung have any intention of letting you forget.

You are going to have a very funny year in front of you.

[proxima-writes]

SWEET TOOTH

pairing: mike schmidt x female reader

rating: explicit

word count: 1.1k

summary: mike has a sweet tooth. when he sees you come home from the grocery store with an extra bag you’re trying to hide, your efforts to keep your candy away from him turn dirty.

author’s note: i have no explanation. just a sprinkle of josh hutcherson brain rot that turned into this.

warnings/tag: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), established relationship, dry humping, desperate mike, sub mike vibes, pet names (including good boy), teasing, play fighting, kissing, mike cumming in his pants, begging.

Mike stumbles out of the bedroom when he hears the door open, the rustle of plastic grocery bags followed by the gentle opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets letting him know you’re back from dropping Abby off at school and running to the store. He didn’t sleep much but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s been missing you for the last couple of nights.

“Hey,” he says, entering the kitchen and sliding his arms around your waist. “What did you get?”

“Just the usual. Some frozen pizzas. Rice. Those burritos you like were on sale, so I got a bunch of those,” you reply. There’s a bag on the counter that’s still full and when he tries to reach for it to help you out, you snatch it away. He raises his eyebrows.

“What’s in the bag?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You step away from him, hiding the bag behind your back. “It’s just…feminine things.”

He doesn’t buy it.

“You mean the same feminine things that are fully stocked in the bathroom right now?”

You shrug. “They were on sale.”

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth,” he teases, taking another step toward you. You back up, but he moves forward. You shift to the side and he follows suit. “Is it candy?”

You stomp your foot petulantly. “Michael Schmidt, you are not stealing my candy this time. You and Abby ate all of my M&Ms last weekend!”

“Sharing is caring!” He tries to reach for you but you duck around him, running for the living room with your bag in hand.

Mike chases after you, following the sound of your laughter and watching as you round the back of the couch, using the piece of furniture to defend yourself. Every time he moves, you shift in the other direction, bag still held behind your back. He moves forward and your eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss. Like a disobedient cat, he places one foot on the couch cushions, raising his eyebrows at you in defiance. “Michael Schmidt!”

He rushes over the furniture toward you, a shriek that turns into a giggle filling the room as closes in on you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“Gotcha,” he teases. He reaches around to grapple for the bag, struggling grab it as you move it out of his reach. Your ass is snug against his hips and his cock takes notice of the contact, twitching in his sweatpants.

“You got a little problem there, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. You grind against him and he hisses, eyes fluttering closed. His hands still, settling on your hips.

“F-fuck,” he stutters. You take advantage of his moment of weakness, breaking free from his grasp and rushing across the room. “Hey!”

He charges after you again, grabbing you around the waist again and throwing both of your bodies over the back of the couch, the two of you landing in a heap of limbs on the cushions. You hold the bag of candy up over your head and he reaches over you, success so close he can taste it.

Your hips twitch against the knee he’s got planted on the cushions between your legs and he pauses, glancing down in interest. In his distraction, you shift your weight enough to send him toppling to the ground, landing with a thump and a groan on his back.

He looks up at you, sees the little smirk on your lips, the mischievous glint in your eye, and he knows he’s in trouble. You grind yourself against him and his eyes roll back at the sensation, the friction of your body against his familiar and consuming in the best way.

“What’s the matter, Mike?” You ask, voice teasing. “Thought you wanted my candy?”

“Mm, candy can wait,” he manages to murmur, lifting his hands to slide his palms along your thighs. “I could use some sugar, though.”

You laugh, head thrown back and shoulders shaking. “That was so bad!”

“Made you laugh, though,” he counters. You smile at him, planting your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you lean close, lips ghosting over his.

He kisses you, slow at first, lips moving in a familiar dance. He swipes his tongue against yours, relishing in the heat and taste of you. You wriggle in his lap like you can’t help yourself, can’t sit still, little sighs escaping you as he kisses you senseless. You feel so good on top of him, surrounding him, grounding him to a present where he doesn’t have to worry about work and bills and money and whether he’s doing well enough for Abby.

You break away from him with a slick pop, lips glistening with spit. You move over him again, this time with intent. You drag your clothed pussy over his hard cock, slow and steady, back and forth.

“Mmm, w-why don’t we take this to the — fuck — bedroom?” Mike asks, trying to hold you still. His fingers dig into your hips but that only seems to spur you on. “Come on, lemme make you feel good.”

“Feel plenty good just like this,” you murmur. Mike bites his lip, squeezes his eyes shut, thinks about anything but the friction of your pussy against his cock but all his mind goes to is images of you splayed out in bed, leaking cum and glistening with sweat. He whines, hips bucking up against you.

“Please, f-fuck,” he bites out. “If you d-don’t stop I’m gonna—“

“Gonna what, Mike? Cum in your pants for me?”

Mike groans, long and loud, that knot in his stomach going taut. He can feel himself leaking in his boxers, an embarrassingly sticky mess that you’ve made of him without even touching him.

“Come on,” you encourage, sliding a hand from his chest up to the base of his throat. “Good boys cum when they’re told, baby.”

The slight pressure on his neck, the rocking of your hips, the dark look in your eyes, it’s all too much, too soon, too good. Mike’s hips stutter, warmth flooding him as he cums and cums and cums, cock twitching against you as you slow your movements.

You stop, sitting still on top of him. He’s panting, aching fingers flexing on your thighs as you run a hand through his hair before kissing him, soft pecks of your lips over his face that have him smiling like a dope.

“If this is what I get if I eat your candy then I hope you know it’ll never be safe,” he teases. You smack his chest, standing and grabbing the discarded bag from the floor.

“If you touch my gummy bears, you better get real acquainted with your hand,” you reply.

“Might be worth it for gummy bears.”

A handful of the gummy bears pelt his face and you laugh as he pops one in his mouth. You finish off the bag together before Mike returns the favor.

Over and over and over.

All masterlists

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine bucky being drunk

warning: kinda spicy at the end

"He's doing it again."

Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.

"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.

"He's so cute when he's drunk."

"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."

Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."

Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.

"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.

Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."

Steve groaned. "Come on, man."

You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."

"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."

"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.

"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."

Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.

"....so cute I could eat."

"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."

Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.

"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.

"I am but pure of heart, James."

Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.

"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.

Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.

[wp-blaze]

Samsung Display is reducing plastic by focusing on OLED

Samsung Display Our research correspondent has attended MWC Barcelona both in 2018, 2019, 2022 and 2023. One of the companies made him impressive was Samsung Display. Samsung Display is a […]

[freedomfireflies]

Yellow*

Summary: An extra for One for the Money*

The one where you have to use your safeword with Mr. Styles and you worry it'll ruin everything.

Word Count: 3.4k

(TW: Panic attack and mentions of panic attacks)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Just like that…shit, just like that, Peach. So fucking good. Can feel you, honey. Fucking feel you—”

Mr. Styles’ hand intertwines with yours before he brings them both to your stomach. Pressing your palm taut to the flesh until you can feel the subtle bulge from his cock. Thrusting into you so deep, your eyes roll all the way back into your head.

He’s been at it for hours. Showing off for the camera, allowing them to see him at his most powerful. And you at your most vulnerable.

You’re used to it by now. More than used to it, and on any given day, you thrive off it. You indulge in his prowess, his intentions. More than willing to be flaunted in front of the large audience of onlookers as he takes you anyway he wants you.

So you’re not sure why today feels different. Why the weight on your chest is heavier than it usually is. Why his hands – while always kind, always comforting – feel like tools in a game of your misery.

You don’t want to stop him. Don’t want to scare him or upset him. You know the moment you utter the words, the dynamic will shift instantaneously. And perhaps that’s what you want, but the repercussions might be more than you’re prepared to handle.

Yet the thought doesn’t leave you as he lowers his fingers toward your clit to pinch and tweak your next orgasm out of you. But you’re already far too sensitive, far too gone in the stimulation and the pain to enjoy it.

Instead, you try to focus on the little red light that blinks from the camera, try to imagine how pleased the audience will be to see this. How all of this will be worth it. It has to be worth it.

“Feels good, honey, doesn’t it?” he groans, now pushing your knee into your chest until you’re whimpering. “My pretty pussy takes me so well, doesn’t she? Let’s me fuck her exactly the way I want. Till she’s fucking crying.”

You nod weakly and the sight of your wet eyes makes his cock twitch as he drives himself in at a quicker pace.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe. Can’t slow the racing of your pulse or ignore the ringing in your ears. It’s everywhere, this pain. Your vision of him has gone blurry and your poor pussy feels swollen and abused.

But you tell yourself it’ll be fine. That you just need to catch your breath. You just need a second, and it’ll be okay. 

Because you don’t want to say it. You’ve never had to say it before, and you don’t exactly want to start now. And you aren’t sure why, you know he’d be more than understanding. But this is silly, you feel silly. Because you’re fine. You just need a second. And it'll pass. 

It will pass.

But it doesn’t pass, and you don’t feel in control of your own body anymore. Which is normally the point, but not today. Today you need to feel grounded, to feel some semblance of power over the anguish. And he’s so good, and so kind, and you can’t say it. You can’t do this to him, can’t do this to yourself, and if you can just catch your breath, it’ll be okay. 

Because he feels good, he really does. And you’re making him feel good, and you don’t want to take that from him. Because then he won’t get to cum, and he’ll be upset, and he’ll never treat you the same. He’ll always remember that you were too weak to take it.

So you’ll take it, you will. You’ll be his good girl, his good little slut, and you’ll make him proud. 

You will.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you repeat this mantra. As you command yourself to like the pain. Because you do. You have to. You can’t say it. You can’t, so you won’t, and you won’t do this, and you won’t ruin it, and it’s fine, and everything is fine—

“Wait,” you whisper, hands tugging on the sweaty curls at your disposal. Hard enough to capture his attention. “Wait, hold on, hold…yellow.”

Just like that…it all stops. He stills, instantly. No more thrusts into your cunt, no more pinching or pulling on your clit, no more kisses to your neck. It all stops in the blink of an eye, and you hear him inhale a quick breath as his body freezes above yours.

Seconds pass. Quiet and filled with a charged, tense energy that’s so eerie, you can almost hear your heart thumping in your chest. 

Then, he murmurs, “Okay. Okay, m’waiting.”

Your lashes flutter shut as a wince stretches across your expression. He doesn’t sound upset, but maybe he is. And you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, can sense how hard he’s trying to hold himself back, how difficult this must be for him to stop like this.

And you realize now that you’ve ruined it, and he’s gonna be pissed, and he’s going to end things, and he’s never gonna fuck you again—

“Peach,” he says softly, face still nuzzled against your shoulder. “Talk to me, what do you need? What would you like me to do?”

You don’t trust your voice. Can feel the influx of tears racing up the back of your throat as you squeeze his hair harder and shake your head.

But this isn’t an answer he accepts, his fingers gently tugging on your waist. “Peach, I need to hear you. I need to know what to do—”

“Nothing,” you exhale, the words getting lost in his cheek as you hold on for dear life. “Nothing, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just need one second. One second and you can go, okay? I promise, I’m sorry—”

“Peach.” It’s not angry but it’s fervent. Determined. “Don’t…shit. Don’t you dare fucking apologize right now, just tell me…tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me to pull out? Or do you want me to stay still?”

And you want to answer, but you can’t. Because there’s too much happening in your head right now. In your heart. It’s going faster than you think it ever has, and your lungs feel like they’re going to collapse, and you want to cry—God, you want to cry. Can already feel the tears slipping down your face, fast and without mercy.

Because he’s so good, and so wonderful, and so kind, and you don’t deserve him. Especially after making him stop, and why did you make him stop, why did you do this, why can’t you just get over it—

“Hey, hey.” His head lifts, eyes finding yours as his hand comes up to cup your jaw. As delicately as he can without startling you. “Okay, it’s all right. You’re okay, Peach.”

His lips press to the tears on your skin. Gently and with great compassion. Which, in turn, only makes you cry that much harder.

“You’re okay,” he whispers between slow kisses to your cheek. “Deep breath, my love. You’re all right, I’ve got you, yeah? M’right here. Won’t let you go until you want me to.”

You melt into the mattress as he continues holding you to the best of his ability. As he attempts to comfort you without causing you any more pain.

“Honey, I need you to tell me what you need. What your body needs,” he repeats after a moment, nose faintly brushing against yours. “Do you want me to pull out or do you want me to stay still?”

Truthfully, you aren’t sure what you want. It doesn’t sting the way it did before, but you’re worried if he moves, the pain will return tenfold.

And the thought of him taking himself from you makes your chest ache.

“I don’t know,” you whimper, attempting to hide yourself in his neck. “I don’t know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m trying—”

“Hey.” The stern voice returns as his palm tightens against your chin and pulls your focus to him. “What did I just say, hm? I don’t want to hear one more apology out of this pretty mouth. Is that understood?”

Your bottom lip quivers. “…I’m sorry.”

With a gentle but slightly amused sigh, he says, “Peach—”

“I am,” you insist, nails curling into the back of his neck. “I don’t know why I made you stop, I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I think I just got scared or something—”

“Scared?” His demeanor shifts on a dime, brows furrowing, and expression quickly growing distressed. “Scared how? What did I do? What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you repeat, gasping slightly at the implication. “Nothing, no. You didn’t…that’s not what I…fuck.”

“Okay, easy, Peach,” he mumbles, sweeping his thumb along your bottom lip soothingly. Waiting until you calm. And he studies you for quite some time, as though looking for the answer written somewhere on your face. “It was a lot, yeah? I pushed too hard.”

“No,” you try again, but his look of disapproval makes you wilt. “I mean…it was a lot, yes, but you didn’t…normally, it’s perfect. It’s never too hard or too much. You didn’t do this, I think I just…my mind wasn’t here. Maybe.”

He nods once. Contemplates this. “I should have checked in with you more frequently. Especially with the camera on—”

“No,” you huff, resisting the urge to slap his shoulder. “Stop putting this on yourself, it’s making me sad.”

“And your apologies make me sad,” he counters. “But that’s the point of the safeword, isn’t it? The system we have in place? It’s nobody’s fault. It’s about communication. About trust, about safety.”

You swallow thickly and settle into the calming safe of his eyes.

His finger continues to trace the outline of your mouth, almost as if in an attempt to collect himself. “Do you trust me, Peach?”

Your stomach sinks. “Of course.”

“Do you feel safe with me?”

“Yes.” You leave a kiss to his thumb. “Always, Sir. I promise.”

He begins to frown. “No, I don’t want you to call me that right now. I want you to call me Harry.”

And this shift – this instruction is what you were afraid of. Lashes fluttering as you whisper, “It’s…it’s okay. You can still be Sir, I promise—”

“No, I don’t want to be your dominant right now,” he corrects firmly. “I don’t want to be your Sir. Or your boss or your investor. I want to be your partner. Your equal. I want to be you and me. Us.”

And you know he means it. Can sense the truth of it behind his assertion and it feels like the first deep breath you’ve been able to take all day.

 “Okay,” you agree, taking hold of his wrist to keep his hand close to your face. “Okay, we’ll be us.”

He seems relieved, dipping down to kiss the center of your forehead before asking, “Now…tell me what you want. Do you want me to pull out or keep still? What does your body need right now?”

You take a moment to find the right answer. “I don’t…honestly, I don’t know. I’m okay right now. Doesn’t…doesn’t hurt as much. You can…you can keep going if you want.”

“It’s not about what I want,” he reminds you. “It’s about what you want. What you need. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want me to go, I will.”

“I…I don’t want you to go. Really, I didn’t mean to make us stop, I swear—”

“We’re not stopping yet,” he interrupts. “Not until you say red. Right now, we’re just taking a break. Reassessing what you need. Okay?”

You nod weakly. “Okay.”

“Good.” He presses his palm to your cheek. “Do you want to say red? Do you want to stop?”

Again, you deliberate this. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

The frown returns. “I need you to do more than think, Peach. I need you to be sure.”

“I am,” you rush to clarify, shifting a bit beneath him as you squeeze his arm and fight against a pained wince. “I am, I promise. I just…I don’t know what happened. It just…there was a lot happening all of a sudden, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t enjoy it. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe or…or understand why I felt so off.”

A certain sadness finds him again as he nods and presses a couple more kisses to your temple. “I think you had a panic attack, my love.”

It’s an odd thought. One you aren’t quite familiar with, as panic attacks aren’t that common for you. In fact, you don’t believe you’ve ever had one before. At least not that you were aware of.

“Oh…” The words feel empty in your head. Weightless, with no meaning to grasp onto. “I…why?”

The corner of his mouth curls up, and the delicate smile makes your heart soar. “I don’t know. Sometimes we can’t find the cause, it just…happens.”

You blink up at him. “You’ve had a panic attack before?”

“I have,” he says calmly, and it surprises you more than it should. “I get them occasionally. Not as much anymore, though. With you.”

And this admission feels like something you can’t explain. Another piece to the Harry Styles puzzle you get to add to. Letting you see his big picture.

“I didn’t know that,” you whisper, and he shrugs.

“I never told you.” Another kiss to your forehead. “But I know how disorienting they can be, and I think it’s best we take a longer break before we continue.”

You feel your expression fall as he gently begins to move. “No, I…I don’t want to stop, I’m fine. You can…you can go—”

However, when he suddenly shifts his hips, it forces you to suck in a sharp, pained breath. Making it clear that continuing is no longer an option.

And for some reason, it feels like a punch to the gut. Knocking the wind from your lungs until that heaviness returns to your chest.

He really is going to stop. He’s going to take his body from you, and his weight, and his heat, and his cock. And the scene will be over, and maybe you won’t start again. Maybe he won’t be in the mood, or he’ll jerk one out in the shower without you, or he’ll look at you differently.

And you hate that thought more than anything in the world.

“No,” you practically whimper, grabbing onto his hips to keep him still. “No, we don’t have to stop, I’m fine. Really, it was just…it was nothing. Please, Harry.”

His thumb quickly returns to your face, brushing just below your eye to help dry the fresh set of tears on your warm, stained cheeks.

And he looks so very wounded. “Peach…this isn’t a punishment. There’s a reason we use the traffic light system, and it’s for moments like this. To keep things safe—”

“But I am safe,” you argue, the sound of your plea timid and riddled with distress. “And I’m fine now, really. You can go, we can finish. I want you to finish—”

“Peach,” he says again, but it’s a bit more resolute. “This isn’t about me finishing. It will never be about me finishing, all right? We can always resume the scene later if you’d like, but right now…I want to hold you. I want to help you feel steady again.”

And it’s the most perfect thought in the world. From the most perfectly imperfect man, and yet the idea of stopping sends sharp needles down your spine.

“Please,” you whine again, sniffling softly. “I don’t want to stop, I promise. Please don’t make us stop, please don’t…don’t…”

He dips down and nuzzles his nose to yours, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Honey, I’m not doing this to hurt you. Or upset you. I want to help, I want you to let me help. To honor our system and take a break.”

But you tug on him tighter, face disappearing into his chest as you shake your head. “Please don’t. Please just ignore me. I’ll feel worse if we stop, really. I’ll get worried and I’ll overthink, and I’ll panic again, and it’ll just be so much worse. So just…let’s finish, okay? I want to finish.”

You hear – and feel – him sigh. “Baby, I need you to listen to me right now, okay? This is my answer.”

It’s rare he uses this nickname, and even though it might be a little cliché, it makes your stomach wrench in the best possible way.

Yet still, the anguish is evident. “Harry,” you whisper, pleading desperately with everything you have left.

He slips his palm around the back of your neck to pull you from his body and allow him to see your face. It’s scrutinous, his expression. Slightly stern and somewhat doleful. “Do I need to be your dominant again? Is that the only way you’ll listen to me?”

Truth be told, you wonder if it is, and your sad little hiccup seems to be answer enough.

So, while fighting a smile, he says, “Then I want you to be a good girl and let Daddy hold you. I don’t want you to argue with me, or fight me, or act like a brat. I want you to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ and be done with it. Is that understood?”

With a shaky inhale and a feeble nod, you murmur, “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he hums before landing his mouth on yours. Kissing you for the first time in what feels like years. “Much sweeter when you behave for me, my love. Aren’t you?”

But you don’t have the strength to answer.

“I know,” he says for you, chuckling against your lips. “Now…I’m gonna pull out. And I’m gonna go slow, all right? Try to be as gentle as I can. And I want you to tell me if it aches or if it’s too much, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

With this vow, he begins to draw his hips back, cock retreating from your pussy until that full feeling begins to diminish.

And at first it’s a bit uncomfortable. Tight, in a sense but eventually, he’s all the way out, and your cunt is provided a moment of much needed reprieve.

The moment that relief finds you, it seems to melt across your expression. And he notices, smiling gratefully but with a twinge of regret. As though he’s punishing himself for causing you the displeasure in the first place.

But before either of you can argue about it again, he’s settling on the mattress beside you and slipping an arm around your stomach. Keeping you pressed against his body to hold you the way he promised.

“There,” he sighs, lips returning to their rightful place on your neck. “Is that better?”

Your eyes fall shut in blissful ecstasy as you lace your hand with his. “Yes, Sir.”

He grins and that familiar dimple reappears. “Attagirl. And you’re gonna let me hold you, yeah?”

“Mhm. Always, Sir.”

He kisses the spot below your ear. “Good.”

The large bedroom falls silent while the little red light from the camera blinks the seconds away. You imagine you’ll have to scrap this video, and you want to feel regret over wasting so much content over this.

But you know, deep down, it’s not about the videos, or your OnlyFans, or the money.

Because all you really need…is here beside you.

“Sir?” you whisper into the delicate air.

His head rolls back. “Yes, Peach?”

“Thank you.”

He squeezes your hip. “Don’t have to thank me, honey. This is my job. This is what we agreed on.”

“I know,” you admit, allowing your other hand to travel to his hair. Fingers absentmindedly sweeping through the curls. “But I don’t think any of my other partners would have been this understanding. And I really appreciate it.”

His eyebrow raises. “Well, that’s why they aren’t your fucking partners anymore. You needed someone that wasn’t a total fucking twat.”

You smirk. “Touché.”

Another quiet lull as you listen to the sound of his soft breaths. Reveling in the feel of them against your heated skin. The way they keep you present in this moment with him instead of losing you to the voices in your head.

Contented, you turn and press your cheek to his forehead, nails scratching down his scalp gently. “Harry?”

“Yes, Peach?”

With a racing heart, your eyes flutter shut.

“…I love you.”

Previous Part:

~ How Many?*

~ Full One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @closureesny

[joelmillers-whore]

Fuck Me Like You Mean It

summary: a miserable time out at a club turns into quite the night when you run into someone you least expected to see. 

word count: 4.9k

series or one-shot

warnings: SMUT, explicit 18+, MDNI, no outbreak, dbf!joel x f!reader, dark!joel, spanking, dubious consent at times, voyeurism, exhibitionism i guess, dirty talking, language, joel calling reader a cock slut, slightly creepy joel, unspecified age gap, daddy kink, brat tamer joel, hand job for a second, manhandling, dominant joel, oral (female and male receiving), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, jealousy if you squint. as always, if i missed something, please let me know. 

you are responsible for the content that you consume. please read the warnings before continuing with this fic. enjoy babes. 

A/N: i am so sorry firstly for teasing you all with snippets of this one-shot and then just not posting it lol, life has been a little chaotic, to say the least and i was just feeling so uninspired to finish it (literally i do this to myself). but so many of you loved the little teaser i posted and i couldn’t just not give ya’ll some delicious dbf!joel. so, here it is. 

ALSO, a huge thank you and shoutout to kylee @hellishjoel for reading and beta-ing this for me, i love you and your freakouts were so valid haha. forehead kisses.

main masterlist

The pungent stench of sweat curled around your nose, setting your already overstimulated nerves into hyperdrive. Possessive hands pawed at your hips, urging you back into their body, into their growing stiffness. 

Normally, you’d be all for it. The game. Going out each weekend, getting shitfaced with your best friend, entertaining men who you would otherwise have no interest in just to see them work for a moment of your attention. 

But not tonight, tonight you’d had enough of it all. The handsy men, the unrhythmic and too-loud music, and just the whole played-out scene really. There wasn’t anything to get excited about anymore, each weekend blurring into the same version of the last, and the one before that. 

It was boring and you couldn’t tolerate the lacklustre men around you for much longer. So, twisting out of the weak grip of the twenty-something you had been dancing with all this time, you abandoned them and your friend who reeked of desperation. 

She’d hounded you all week to go out to a club, hoping to get laid, vetoing your suggestion to just get drunk and find someone at a bar. Now, you were at a seedy club downtown, getting groped from every angle by mediocre-looking men who smelled of too much Axe body spray and sweat. 

The mere thought of the combination curdled your stomach, propelling you deeper into the club and all the way to the bar. You thought that alcohol might right your foul mood, your skin already pricking with annoyance at your current circumstances. 

Getting to the bar, it was as packed as you had been imagining. Everyone was contending for the bartender’s attention, demanding drinks that you were sure were as watered-down as your first shot had been. 

You sighed, wondering why you had let your friend talk you into coming out tonight, when it was the last thing in the world you wanted to be doing. 

Lack of desire for the club had turned into plain boredom now, every ounce of your body thrumming with the longing to escape. But you’d never just up and leave your friend, no matter how much you wanted to. You’d just have to grin and bear it. 

Tapping your finger along to the music, that wasn’t even good, the slow and melodic electronic music nearly putting you to sleep, you waited for your drink. Finally getting your drink from the bartender, you slurped it down, hoping the subtle sting of the alcohol would wake you up, and trigger something to make your night more enjoyable. 

You began to walk back to where you had left your friend, deciding to scoop her drunk ass up and take her back with you to your place to call it a night at... you checked your phone, a pathetic ten-thirty. But you stopped in your tracks when something caught your eye, or rather someone. 

Turning your head toward the seated area, which basically served as the VIP section without actually having the name, because there was nothing special about it. Old red velvet couches that had seen better days and probably had every fluid known to man seeped into the cushions, and wobbly tables that were smattered with decade-old stains. 

You squinted your eyes, the stage lights blinding you as you put a hand up, shielding your eyes as you attempted to make out a vaguely familiar shape that was sitting in said area. You took a tentative step forward, thinking that your eyes were deceiving you, the wild lights making you see things. Because there was no fucking way that you were actually seeing what you were seeing, no fucking way. 

Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight. Your dad’s neighbour, Joel Miller, was sitting on one of the couches, a beer in one hand, his other hand disappearing below the cut of the table. Your eyes followed his hand, trailing down the length of him until they snagged on the back of someone's legs, kneeling below the table. 

Your lips parted slightly, completely caught off guard by what you were seeing. You were watching your dad’s neighbour— or better yet, his best friend, get sucked off at a club. Feeling your face heat, you looked away, embarrassment coating your skin. 

Your stomach lurched, turning with nausea and something else, your skin pricking with sweat as you glanced back up at Joel, meeting his already waiting eyes. Those chocolate brown orbs were blown, wide, and ghosting with surprise as he raked them over the expanse of you. 

His face glowed in the low light of the club, the flashing lights dancing and snagging your gaze to his lustful expression. The way that his eyes were heavy-lidded, the slight sheen that coated his brow, and the way that his chest rose and fell excessively. 

It was a scene that you couldn’t look away from, even though you wanted to. You wanted to get out of there and go... well, you didn’t exactly know. The longer that Joel’s eyes held yours, the more you felt yourself being drawn into his orbit, his world. Your chest began rising and falling in time with his own, and a dull throbbing began in your cunt, surprising you completely. 

You didn’t think that you’d be this kind of person, someone who was turned on by watching other people having sex. But you also couldn’t deny or explain the influx of wetness that saturated your panties. 

You awkwardly clenched your thighs, rubbing them together to ease some of the pressure you felt. Joel’s stare burned into you, causing your heartbeat to thrum erratically in your throat.

You felt sick and depraved and like you should be anywhere else in the world, but another part of yourself couldn’t look away, because you didn’t want to. 

You wanted to see Joel fall apart right in front of you, to see him burst at the seams and devolve into a fit of pleasure right before your eyes. And like you had wished it into existence, you watched as he tipped his head back, snapping his eyes closed, his whole body convulsing as he came. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t a beautiful sight to behold. 

Another gush of your own arousal leaked out of you, sticking the thin material of your panties flush against your cunt, rubbing against your already swollen clit. Fuck, you felt too hot and you needed to cool down, maybe splash some water on your face. 

Ducking out of Joel’s line of sight, you headed past the winding staircase, down a rather dark hallway, and toward a couple of heavy-set doors that housed the bathrooms. There weren’t many people around, only a few bodies scattered throughout the hall. 

Couples made out in the dark and you may or may not have seen a drug deal going down. But none of that mattered now, the only thing you needed to do was close yourself into a stall and try to get your hormones under control. 

Even though the thud of the music carried all the way down the hall, you could still hear a rhythmic thump of someone stomping in your direction. You turned on your heels, anxious to see who it was. Before you could even blink, strong arms shoved you past one of the steel doors, locking it behind you, before planting you against it on the other side. 

Your eyes trailed their broad and expansive chest, cresting at their salt and pepper beard and mustache, and settling on their sinful eyes. Eyes you had just been staring into moments before. It was Joel. Shock and something lustful coasted through you, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. 

Joel’s face was inches from yours, his breathing mingling with your own, the heady scent of beer invaded your nostrils. His eyes dipped to your lips and then lazily dragged back to your eyes. His hands were resting on your hips, keeping you between the door and his body, caging you in. 

“What’re you doing?”, you asked, swallowing thickly, trying to avoid his eyes. 

“What’s it look like ‘m doing?”, he replied, his Southern drawl coming out as thick as honey, making your thighs snap together. 

You shook your head gingerly, “Dunno...”. 

His lips quirked up, a sinister smirk plastered on his face, “Turn around”. His voice was gruff and assertive, making you quiver at the tone. 

You were stunned into silence, your mouth opening and closing like you were trying to catch flies, surprised by his forwardness. 

“What—”, you started. 

You couldn’t even catch your breath before Joel’s rough grip grabbed your arms, turning you around in his hold and pressing your front against the edge of the sink, basically bending you in half so that your ass was facing him, on full display. 

“This fuckin’ dress”, he mumbled behind you, fisting the material and tugging it up, bunching it around your waist, leaving your ass bare save for your drenched thong. “Wanted to fucking rip it off of ya”. 

You whined, pushing your ass toward him, your body completely under his spell, his raspy voice suddenly fulfilling every dirty fantasy you’d ever had about this man. It wasn’t as if he was unattractive by any stretch of the word, he was ruggedly attractive even. 

Your mind couldn’t concentrate on your thoughts of how attractive Joel was before a stinging slap came down on your bare ass cheek. You craned your neck, as best you could, but you felt another quick sting, forcing you to remain in the position you were in. 

“Fuck—”, you half-whined, half-mewled, both turned on and pissed off at the same time. “You can’t just—”. 

Another slap, harder this time, causing your body to jolt and instinctively wiggle away from the pain. 

“I can—”, Joel groaned, another full-palm slap on your ass, probably leaving a large, red imprint there. “And I will”. 

Joel’s other hand was pressing down on your back, pushing your face further and further toward the porcelain sink that wasn’t as white as it probably had been once upon a time. It made your stomach revolt against you, the combination of cigarette ash and week-old vomit was not the most pleasant scent. 

You felt Joel’s hand slip away from your ass, his fingers trailing over the back of your exposed legs, moving lower and lower. You attempted to look behind you again, his body not crowding you anymore.

When you did manage to sneak a peek, he was lowering himself onto his knees, spreading your legs farther apart by the back of your knees. 

Your eyes went wide, “What- what are you doing, Mr. Miller?”. 

Joel rolled his eyes, nipping at your sore ass cheek, causing you to jump. “So many goddamn questions”. 

You muttered something incoherent, a protest of some sort, but Joel wouldn’t hear it, only ignoring you and continuing on his mission. He pulled your deep red thong to the side, the chilled air in the bathroom hitting your exposed clit deliciously. 

“Mm, my favourite colour”, he groaned. 

You shook like a leaf as you awaited what came next, feeling Joel’s harsh breath closing in on your pussy, the anticipation actually killing you. It was like a shock to your system, the feel of his warm mouth suctioning to your lips, sucking and licking like he had been deprived all this time. 

Your hips pressed back into him, involuntarily chasing the sensation, the friction, the high. The brash feel of Joel’s beard tickled you, circling your entrance like a shark would its dinner. He licked along your folds, fucking his girthy tongue into your hole as he spread your cheeks further apart, stretching you painfully with the size of it. 

You were a moaning mess, hands strangling the edge of the sink, as you held on for dear life. Searing pleasure gripped your lower stomach, throttling your insides as Joel picked up his pace, helping you to your orgasm.

It came over you suddenly and violently, making you shake as you clenched your eyes shut, rocking back into him as light burst behind your eyes, making your body sweat and tingle with the aftershocks. 

You felt Joel move to stand, palming the flesh of your ass cheeks with both his hands as you took this opportunity to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you lay virtually flat against the sink, your breasts squishing down painfully. 

Lightheaded and completely fucked out, you hadn’t even been aware that Joel’s hands were on you again, manhandling you so that you were turned around, facing him. He roughly gripped the hem of your dress, yanking the material down, your breasts popping out of their constraints. 

“D’you like what you saw earlier?”, Joel asked, his voice dropping an octave, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. “Hmm? Was that sweet lil’ pussy weeping for me while I was getting blown?”. 

Your mind was clouded, a fog settling over each neuron, slowing down your capacity to think and speak, let alone to respond to him. You nodded your head, moaning in his ear, rubbing your jaw along his own, scraping your skin over his patchy beard. 

“Fuck”, he groaned, rutting his hardened bulge into your thigh, creating succulent friction for himself while you leaned back, taking it. “I almost blew my load when I saw that you were watching me, gettin’ off on seeing that”. 

You dropped your head to his shoulder, your mind still stuck in that post-orgasm haze. 

Joel gripped your chin in his fingers, tipping your head up so that your eyes were locked with his, “Eyes on me, darlin’. I ain’t finished with you yet”. 

You nodded again, your breathing coming out rushed as you gulped down heaps of air, filling your lungs, eyes locked on Joel’s. Your lids were heavy, vision clouded as Joel leaned forward, lips grazing yours. 

His teeth came down on your bottom lip, suddenly, making you yelp. The pressure was light, not as hard as you were expecting, not as hard as a part of you wanted. Joel groaned, his hands roaming all over you. Your hips, your stomach, your ass. 

Your hands raked up and down Joel’s chest, steadying yourself with the feeling of the coarse material underneath your palms. Your gaze flicked down to his buttoned-up shirt, to the three buttons that were undone, the dense hair on his chest, stippled with grey and white. 

He hummed, his chest rumbling below your fingers as you dipped them under his shirt, weaving through the loose curls, exploring the feel of him. His chest was solid, firm, strong, dependable. A strange wave of calm washed over you, igniting your confidence. 

“No...”, you breathed, your chest heaving, pulling one raspy breath after another from your lungs, “I’m not finished with you yet”. 

Joel’s eyes widened, his mouth parted, his tongue peeking out to swipe over his already glistening lips. A smirk tugged at the edge, his index finger slipping past your bottom lip. You opened wider, allowing his digit to slip into your mouth, the heedy taste of sweat and something sweeter settled on your tongue, your taste buds exploding with the tang of him. 

“Is that so?”, Joel cooed, his voice dripping, oozing with unbridled desire. 

He pushed his digit deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat roughly. The intrusion was sudden, making your eyes snap shut as you tried your best to keep it together, to not give Joel the reaction he was looking for. But you gagged, all the same, drool pooling and dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.

You heard Joel click his teeth, a disappointed tsk coming from deep in his chest as he tried again, this time gripping your chin with his other hand, making sure you opened wide for him. 

“Come on, you can do better than that...”, he mused, his middle finger accompanying his index, sliding them deeper and deeper down your throat, until you couldn’t do anything but take it, the will to fight against the shock to your system fading quickly. “Show Daddy how much you want to suck his cock”. 

Your pussy began to thrum rapidly, your slick running down your inner thighs, making them sticky, making you even more of a mess than you already felt. You moaned around Joel’s fingers, sucking and bobbing your head along them as best as you could. 

His hand dropped from your chin to rub at your peaked and sensitive nipples, playing with them, distracting you from what you were doing. It was maddening, the sensation, the tweaking, the way he chuckled under his breath when you stuttered around him, groaning every time you took him deeper. 

He pinched your right nipple harder, twisting it, “Keep going, baby”. 

That was all the reminder that you needed. You shifted your focus back, inhaling through your nose deeply, taking his fingers down more, more, more. Tears bubbled along your waterline, making your vision of Joel blurry, and unfocused. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a thin line of your saliva still attaching you to him. Your attention was focused on the strand until it broke, your gaze sliding up Joel’s face, past his greying and patchy beard, his full, plump lips, and settling on his burning eyes. 

“Are you ready for Daddy’s cock now? Hm?”, he asked, in an almost mocking tone. 

You nodded, still a little dazed, still a little flustered. He grabbed your chin forcefully, his grip tight as he angled your head up, your eyes downcast as you kept them locked with his. 

“Tell me you want it, darlin’”, Joel’s face was inches from yours, his lips so close that you could push up on your toes and kiss him, feel them against you, but you didn’t, not yet. “Tell me you need it”. 

“I-I need it...”, you said, low. Joel’s brow raised, urging you to continue, “Daddy...”, you whined, your hips grinding into his thigh absentmindedly. 

Joel nodded, his pupils blown out, gleaming with lust and dark intent. You watched as his hands dragged across his stomach, sliding down farther and farther, resting above his belt. 

“Can I...”, you trailed off, preoccupied by his massive bulge, the way that it twitched in his jeans, practically punching a hole through them. 

Joel smirked, “Yeah, go ahead, baby”. His breathing was stunted, coming out in shallow pants as he anticipated you finally touching him. 

You reached out, hands dangling loosely on his hips, thumb rubbing along his zipper. You heard Joel’s breathing hitch above you, and you smirked. So, he was just as affected as you were... interesting. 

Holding in a breath, you tentatively searched his eyes a last time, he nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving you. You sank to your knees, Joel’s hand darting out to grab your arm, stabilizing you as you lowered yourself fully. 

You looked up at him through your full lashes, trapping him with your stare as you undid his jeans, slowly, with purpose. Your heart hammered in your chest, your mouth already filled with saliva as you awaited what you anticipated to be a huge cock. 

You couldn’t believe that you were on your knees, wrestling with Joel’s belt as he stood over you, towering over you, when just the other day he was helping your Dad change the oil in your car. 

Your Dad hadn’t been any the wiser to the way you had been ogling his neighbour and best friend the entire time. How you traced every bead of sweat that presented on his brow, how you watched intensely as his back muscles contracted under his plain black t-shirt every time he bent over the hood of the car, making you bite your lip as you imagined all the ways he could bend you over that hood and rail you into oblivion. 

You had focused on his dirty fingers, how meticulous and deft they were as they tinkled with the fine parts inside of your car, how filthy they were, covered in inky black smears. You felt like you were in heat, completely turned on by normal, everyday things, something as simple as a man— who again, was old enough to be your Dad, helping your actual father tune up your car. 

Pulling Joel’s zipper down, his black briefs hugged the shape of his cock, the fleecy material moulding his straining member beautifully. Your mouth watered at the sight, the size of him, the way that he smelled, even before you pulled him out of his underwear. 

You couldn’t help yourself, you needed to taste him then, immediately. Your core fluttered as you inched forward, hands wrapping around his thick, sturdy thighs, your nose burying deep into his hardened flesh, inhaling his intoxicating scent. And it was intoxicating. 

Your head was already swimming, your lips rubbing up and down his shaft, tongue licking his clothed cock. His musky soap took over your senses, the way his heavy scent settled over you, drawing you in deep, your tongue basically lapping at him now. Greedily, hungrily, shamelessly.  

Joel’s hands dropped down to your hair, tangling in it. His hold was painful, bordering on brutal. You couldn’t handle it anymore, being so close and yet not close enough. 

Your hands fumbled with the waistband of his underwear, dragging his pulsating cock out of them, feeling the weight of him in your hand. How warm and supple he was, how heavy and manly it was. 

Wrapping your hand over him, feeling flesh on flesh, skin on skin, warmth flooded your core, arousal seeping from you again. Joel sharply inhaled a breath through his teeth, wincing when you took hold of him. 

You looked up at him through lashed eyes, “What’s wrong?”. 

Joel shook his head, “Cold”. 

You snickered, rubbing your thumb over his slit, making his fists in your hair tighten significantly. In the low light, you could see a glob of something shimmering on his shaft, calling out to you. You took a closer look, realizing that it was lip gloss. Her lip gloss. 

Your gut simmered and boiled as you inspected it, collecting it on your finger and wiping it off on his jeans, practically snarling as you did. 

“She meant nothing, baby”, Joel said, his voice devolving into a groan when you slowly started stroking him. 

You hummed, not completely satisfied with his answer but deciding to let it go for now. He wasn’t yours and you had no say over what or who he did. You tugged harder, angrier, even though you knew it was irrational to get upset over this. 

“I can do it better”, you said, catching yourself off guard with your own words. Joel angled your head up, making you look at him. 

“Show me then”, he mumbled, his eyes glazing over with desire as he watched you intently. 

You sank down lower, face now level with his cock, fingers brushing against the wiry, short hair at the base. You inhaled deeply, inhaled the scent of him— sharp, masculine, heedy. 

He was all man and he was all yours for the moment; his lips parted slightly, his eyes hooded as he looked down at you, his tongue darting out to run along his parched lips, watching you like a hawk, cementing to memory the image of you on your knees for him, his best friend’s little girl hungry for his cock, ready to gag on it and swallow down every bit of his seed until she was choking on it. 

Joel’s cock pulsed under your touch, twitching with anticipation. Your lips quirked up at the edge, satisfied with his reaction to you, even though you hadn’t even started yet. 

You leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on his tip, Joel’s hand flying to your hair, steadying himself as your tongue popped out, running along the underside of his shaft, the feeling so fucking delicious that he would have burst if he hadn’t tugged you away from his cock faster than you could suck him into your mouth. 

“Stop... fucking teasing me...”, Joel breathed out, through clenched teeth, the pain in his voice making you giggle. 

“Okay”, you conceded, rolling your eyes like the fucking brat that you were. 

Joel loosed his grip on your hair significantly, and you pushed on, suckling at his tip, your tongue gliding over the head over and over again, effectively driving him insane— if his noises were any indication of that. 

You took a deep breath through your nose and took more of him, hallowing out your cheeks, covering your teeth with your lips. Spit painted his cock, the smell mixing with the overwhelming scent that was already present in the bathroom. 

You bobbed up and down on Joel’s cock, spurred on by the moans and broken grunts that were coming from him, your name and only your name spilling from his lips. 

“God, you love this cock”, Joel mumbled, loud enough for you to hear, your pussy beginning to throb again. “Don’t ya?”. 

You attempted to nod, opening your throat more for him to slide his length farther down. 

“My little cock slut, huh?”, Joel grunted, his other hand joining the one that was already tangled in your hair, grabbing your head and shoving himself deeper down your throat. 

You lost your rhythm, sputtering around him when you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe, but Joel wasn’t having any of it. He yanked hard, tipping your head up, your eyes glazed with tears. 

“What did I say? Eyes on me”, he growled, taking over— taking charge of the situation. You gripped his thighs, holding on for dear life, as he used your mouth to get off, not caring in the slightest that you were running out of air. 

Joel’s hips snapped violently as he pushed himself down your throat, groaning at the feel of it hugging his cock, squeezing it like he was fucking your pussy, fluttering every time you swallowed around him. 

He grunted loudly, his tempo becoming stuttered, “What would your Daddy say? Hm? What would he say if saw you right now, your mouth stuffed full of my cock, makeup running down your cheeks?”. 

You moaned around him, eliciting a pained groan from Joel, “Fuck, yeah, ‘s it... you’re doing so well for me”. 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your eyes stinging as you blinked them away, swallowing around Joel’s cock periodically, trying to get him to cum.

He was close, you could feel it in the way that he was tensing up, his pace unsteady and rushed, head thrown back as he let the feeling wash over him. It was a sight to behold, your arousal leaking from you as you watched him. 

A loud bang came from the other side of the bathroom door, some muffled shouting. Joel’s head snapped up at the intrusion, his thrusts becoming angrier each time he pulled out of you, only to shove back in harder. 

The banging came again but this time Joel didn’t take his eyes off of you, didn’t want to miss how you reacted when he came down your throat. 

“Want you to swallow it, darlin’. Don’t want you wasting a single drop”. 

You hummed again, a hand reaching for his balls, massaging them in time with his thrusts. A loud grunt was all the warning that you got before Joel spilled his load down your throat, his seed hot as it pooled in your mouth, the taste salty and overwhelming to your senses. 

You swallowed as much of him as you could, delighting in how he shuddered above you as he milked himself into your waiting and open mouth. He stepped back from you, tucking himself back into his jeans, running a hand through his sweat-slick curls. 

A drop of his cum ran down your chin and you didn’t waste a second before you thumbed it, sticking the finger into your mouth and sucking it clean, a lewd pop emitting in the echoing bathroom when you were finished. 

With a hand on the porcelain sink, you got to your feet, adjusting your dress and fixing your hair and makeup in the dirty mirror. You shrugged, not caring how you really looked, the club was dark enough that no one would be the wiser to what had just occurred. You hoped. 

You turned to Joel who still had that look in his eye as he stared at you. 

“What?”, you asked. 

He shook his head, “Nothin’”. Another bang on the door, Joel’s head turned to the noise, his features darkening, “I’m going to knock their fuckin’ head off if they knock one more time”. 

You walked to the door, patting Joel’s chest as you passed him, pulling it open. You stopped before you were all the way through, looking back at Joel. 

You cleared your throat, your voice coming out raspier than usual, “See you around, Mr. Miller”. 

You could have sworn that you saw a touch of a smile ghost his face, but you couldn’t be sure. You left the way you came, traversing the dark hallway and meeting up with your friend who was more than a little drunk. 

You joined the group of them, dancing and grinding for hours. Maybe your night out wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought. You unconsciously scanned the dance floor— the club for the brooding neighbour you had a quickie with in the bathroom, but he was nowhere to be found. 

You shrugged, only mildly disappointed that you were dancing with horny boys rather than the man who had made you see stars over and over again. But you smiled to yourself because you’d see him again, that was a guarantee, and maybe, just maybe he would need to help your Dad fix your car. 

taglist: @morallyinept @reddedmiller @hellishjoel @jenispunk @cavillscurls @kiwisbell @joelslegalwhre

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[hobicakess]

RED CHOPSTICKS | 2

SUMMARY: . The Min Brothers were fucking insane

PAIRING: Ganster!yoongi x reader / Law enforcement!AugustD x fem! reader

RATING: 18+ (I am not a babysitter. You're in control of what you consume)

CONTENT WARNING: porn with HELLA plot   violence, plus sized reader , afro asian reader , dead bodies , blood , slight gore mention, stalking , twin rivalry , yandere, heavy angst, nonconsensual recording + photo taking , death threats towards innocent people, cheating, mc is very ... not smart! ( for the plot ofc ) , gang violence, reader not having a great relationship with law enforcement, reader has a criminal record ( don't we all? ) , murder , character death, guns, kidnapping ( kind of ) , e2l ( more like fuck buddies ) , hints to a robbery, SMUT hate fucking , clit / coochie smacking , bondage with a tie , overstimulation , degradation , gagging, car sex , bratty reader , dom!augustd , sub!reader , spanking , biting , spit mention, i hope that's all.

TAG LIST : @kooliv @princxssly82 @btsw1fe @princess-sunshyn @goldenmidnight @borahaerhy @itzz-me-duh @akiiron @thisladysperspective @kooliv @whenthebeatdrop-beatdrop @jenniexjenny @bashbri @cherryjenie

A/N: this is my longest fic ive ever written! the amount of times ive scraped this and rewrote it should be illegal. i honestly didn't see it becoming this big all i wanted was for me to hunch the police 🫤 WELL HERE WE ARE NOW!!!

Looking a man in the eye and shooting him dead was never on your bucket list of things to do. You always wanted to go to Hawaii and lounge around in a tropical setting, or a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower but you simply weren't normal enough for that.

You were at your mailbox boredly flicking through the bills and useless advertised telegrams when a bright yellow envelope caught your eye.

You tuck the rest of the envelopes under your arm— using the acrylic nail on your index finger to open it. Slowly you began to remove the endless series of pictures. They all contained you and Yoongi together in multiple situations. One of you holding hands and walking into your apartment, the other of the two of you coming out of the car together. Your hair was disheveled, your hand tugging at the top of your dress, a wide smirk on Yoongi's face as his eyes looked directly into the camera fixing at his pants.

You swallow hard, heart beating a bass drum in your ears.

This is exactly what Yoongi warned you about in the beginning of your relationship.

“Y/N L/N?” You jumped shoving the photos into the envelope turning towards the voice. You are met with a man, his eyes a light shade of brown and his hair dark and curly.

“Who's asking?'' Clearing your throat, the grip on your once useless mail got tighter watching him dig into his pocket, pulling out his golden badge.

“Detective Kim Taehyung, I’d like to talk to you back at the station. Little birdy told me you know the whereabouts of Min Yoongi. Otherwise known as ‘Suga’.

You gulped, looking over his shoulder and seeing his partner leaning on the edge of his patrol car the ripped man throwing you a smile and wave. The bunny like smile didn’t even match his hulking figure.

“Well, your little birdy? Was wrong Mr. Kim have a good rest of your day.”

“Please don’t make this any harder Ms” You begin to walk away from the fed quickly, descending up the stairs of your home.

This is exactly what Yoongi didn't want.

“Y/N L/N you’re under arrest for the murders of Kim Hongjoon, Song Mingi, and Choi San"

At the Seoul police station, you were roughed up and thrown into a cold interrogation room. Rubbing your raw wrist throbbing from being bound too tight by the handcuffs you were unlawfully forced in. Groaning your head banged on the cool metal table. The names of any of the men Detective Kim had listed didn't ring any of the bells inside your head. You had your petty crimes throughout your youth, but you were partially civil enough to not murder anybody. This was a tactic to get you to spill what you knew about your boyfriend, and his very illegal line of work. Hell, you didn’t really know anything but, in all honesty, you were ready to fold when he pulled his badge from his pocket. You and law enforcement never mixed well.

You hear the door open, making you sit up straight with a scowl deep on your face. "No one read me my rights."

He chuckled, his dark hair shiny in the low yellow lights. He turned, and your mouth dropped open. “I'll be sure to scold my officers.”

This man was a carbon copy of your Min Yoongi.

The only difference was that the scar on the left side of his face looked to have healed better and was faint. Unlike your boyfriends, whose scar was still an angry, bright shade of red, thick, and tissuey leaving him partially blind.

You knew your boyfriend had a brother. A brother who was in some type of higher up position working for him and covering his messy jobs. Though he rarely talked of him in greater detail, Yoongi had failed to let you know of his very identical twin. “You might catch flies Mrs. Y/n”, setting a large binder on the cold table and taking a seat in the wooden chair in front of you. You shut your mouth, mind running a million miles per hour.

“Seems like he doesn't talk about me much” A noise of disapproval left his lip. Lending you his hand, “Detective August, I requested your presence here in regard to my brother current whereabouts”

Your mouth turned into a thin line, and boy you really wished you knew. “I don’t know what you're talking about...” he hummed, cracking open the large binder skimming through it.

Your body stiff as he read off a file everything about you, “Your grades were decent in high school, though you dropped out suddenly in the middle of your senior year, you were homeless for a year after that, and you have a couple petty thief's and three assault charges”

He looked at you, nodding “You and my brother are a perfect match”

“My brother keeps many women around” he started leaning back into the chair, legs crossing “But you? He's kept you around for the longest, seven months?”

He whistled mockingly, “That's a world record. What makes you so special, huh?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, nails digging deep into your skin as your leg bounces with anxiety. He was pissing you off and the smirk told you he knew it. You could jump over the table and punch him for being an asshole cop and just for unfortunately sharing the same face of your absent boyfriend, but you didn't need another assault charge on another cop.

"And what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“I always keep tabs on my little brother, always running around and making messes around the city"

So, you're his personal maid?" Watching his jaw clench you smile in satisfaction.

He harshly began to pull out batches of pictures, men whose faces you've seen before somewhere in your life. Till it clicked in your brain— all of these men have tried to make a pass at you over the past couple of months of you dealing with Yoongi romantically. The next handful of photos he pulled were them all laying in pools of their own blood.

"Very sloppy jobs done by yours truly."

Your stomach twisted in knots. You knew what Yoongi was capable of, but all of this for you? You swallow hard, letting a loud sigh leave your lips. "I haven't heard anything from him in 3 weeks he never tells me where he is, what he's doing, or when he's coming back”

August cursed under his breath, hand wiping down his face, "There's been radio silence for five days, were not even sure if he's in Korea anymore."

With that the worst possible scenarios flashed before your eyes, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Y/N, we’ll find him. It's not the first time this has happened”

“And how long was he missing?”

“A year and a half.”

You swallow hard, "And my murder charges?".

"They've suddenly been dropped. I'll be sure to remind my men to be less rough next time"

“Next time?”

The long months of being with Yoongi him disappearing on you wasn't rare. Being that he constantly let it be known that his line of work wasn't meant for you, and you didn't need to be involved. Three weeks has been the longest your lover has been gone. Three very long weeks with not even the smallest bit of news from Hoseok, his right-hand man. You were worried sick, but you knew your boyfriend was tough, and he always came back home to you.

Towel wrapped around your body, you sighed heavily, feeling yourself buzzing from the red wine you'd been consuming since you walked in the front door. It was near dark when Detectives Kim and Jeon dropped you off at home, apologizing for how forceful they were.

You didn't even know if you should have been talking to him and telling the man anything, but you just figured it was fine because he did cover a lot of Yoongi's ‘accidents.

After rubbing your body down with essential oils, you jump at the sound of the phone ringing. The caller ID stating ‘unknown' made you immediately press the green answer and put it on speaker phone, “Hello?

“Don’t you miss me, doll?” You stiffened hearing his voice for the first time in weeks made your body feel like jello. “You mad at me, princess?”

“Mad is an understatement.” glaring at the bright phone screen, “You're so cute when you frown” his words made your glare deepen, looking around your bedroom.

“Is there a fucking cam-” he cut you off. His voice was deeper than usual, all dark and serious, different from his usual playfulness. “I know you saw my brother today.”

“It's not like I had a choice” he clicked his tongue and mumbled shit over his breath and slightly ruffling like he was running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t want you seeing him again, he's a fuckin’ pig. You need to be more assertive. Hobi told me you folded as soon as Taehyung pulled out his badge”

You were at your breaking point, you haven't spoken in weeks and now he was trying to coach you?

“Oh fuck you Min Yoongi, our first conversion in weeks is this bullshit? I've been worried sick.” he stayed silent on the other end listening to you rant about everything. You weren't a dumbass. You knew that dealing with a gangster would come with extra baggage, but this was making your head hurt.

“Your killing innocent men for flirting with me? Then you might as well murder the 14 year old who gives me a free rose every monday”

“You think I won't?” blood running cold as a chill ran down your spin

"Yoongi can't be serious right now” His sigh was loud and frustrated, “Me killing six men for you isn't serious enough?”

“This is exactly why I didn’t want my brother around. Of course, he goes to you when I'm away. He’s already getting to your head and filling it with nonsense so he could have you to himself”

You scoff angrily, scuffing down your glass of wine. “You're so delusional, fuck you and your brother, I don't want anything to do with either of you anymore. Don't bother coming back here” he paused, then his laughter rang through the speakers like he was watching a comedy special.

“Youre hilarious, baby." he sighs and sniffs. “You know I can see you right? Been watching you since I left.”

Your eyes scan every corner of your bedroom. “You don't want me to come back and play with that pussy for you?”

“No.” You didn't answer just staring down at your clench thighs as his soft hum fills your ears, “You're not a good liar baby.”

“Fuck you Min Yoongi” he hummed, almost sounding like cats purr “I plan on fucking you.”

“l'll be home in two days, and I'm gonna make it up to you with this dick deep in your guts."

“I love you, and stop drinking so much your hangovers are the worst.” he hung up with that leaving you shunned to tears. Throwing your phone down you turn up the whole bottle of cheap wine.

Fuck you Min Yoongi

There were three things that you learned over the past 24 hours.

1. No matter where you went there were always people watching you.

Even your own house isn't safe. Yoongi somehow placed cameras in unknown places all throughout and his men were on your tail along with August and his lackeys.

2. Yoongi was so right about your hangovers.

Your head was thumping the moment you woke up in the morning, still you got ready for work.

3. The Min brothers were fucking insane.

Pulling on the detective's sleeve, you drag him outside the saloon. August had shown up today at your workplace asking around for you and causing a scene. Knowing how nosy and gossipy your coworkers and customers were, you'd be the hot topic for weeks, horrible for your lowkey reputation.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you ask when the two of you were furthest away from the shop and out of sight.

August stared you down, face blank. You hated that he shared the same face as your boyfriend, and he was just as handsome, but the way he carried himself was totally different from his brother.

While Yoongi was very loose and airy, August was tight and stiff with every movement. Despite that, both brothers had a very demanding and dominated aura, taking up space even in the largest room.

“ If you had to ask me something, a phone call or text would have been great. Instead of barging into my workplace like a madman”

He blinked once, twice, then again, looking behind you. You turn and see several people entering your job. He then gripped onto your forearm and dragged you into his chest. You fight against his grip, cursing him and complaining.

"What's going on? Are you crazy?"

"Listen woman" he hissed grip tightening as he shook you slightly. "My brother needs to tighten your leash before I have to."

You open your mouth to get ready to mouth back, but his look shut you right up. "Those pictures you got in the mail. Who do you think sent them?"

You swallow hard before gulping harshly, putting two and two together. He knew what was going to happen if you stayed in the saloon longer.

"Now be quiet and get in the car."

August was seated beside you in the drivers seat of the tinted Audi. You hated this, you wanted to sleep but everytime you dozed off August was there to flick you in the forehead claiming he wasn't going to carry you when the ride was over. You kept asking him when that time was coming and his answer was always a dry 'soon'.

"You have a very foul mouth for a lady," he grumbled, not even looking in your direction.

"And you're annoying. No wonder Yoongi doesn't like you”

He growled hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Me and my brothers relationship is hardly any of your business” With a roll of your eyes and a huff, you cross your arms.

“You two should have never made it my business." his eyes shifted towards you for the first time since getting put in the car. His eyes burning into the side of your head, but you kept your focus outside of the window, ignoring him. Your thigh began to bounce in anxiety as you got tired of his staring.

"Can you keep your eyes on the damn road?" You snapped at him. "You've spoke to my brother yesterday, no?"

"So what if I did." Looking back out the car window.

"You remind me of my brothers last whore. A dumb puppy." he said, you didn't even think when your hand raised smacking the clone of a man across the face. The raw sound of the skin colliding echoed throughout the car.

"You sound jealous of your little brother August." His face went through the most emotion you'd seen him show.

"Awe, poor August always in Yoongi's shadow, hoping and wishing to be just like him- ACK"

August foot slammed hard onto the break sending you forward, seat belt digging in your chest, head inches away from hitting the dashboard.

"Don't talk about shit you don't know about" his voice raises looking at you with slitted eyes. But you didn't have to know much to figure out that August was living in his brother's shadow. So you pressed on, acrylic nails tapping all over his buttons.

"Yoongi gets to do things without consequences while you pick up and clean up after. I'm sure you're tired, I know you wished you could make a mess and not clean it up for once."

“Get out.” and with that you opened the door, slamming it hard beginning your long walk down the dark road. Hearing the sound of the driver side door close your turn and see August. Giving him two middle fingers you grabbed your phone from your work pants, cursing as there was no cell service. You heard August behind walking steadily.

You must have misjudged the distance between you and him before you knew it you were lifted off the ground. Your phone is thrown to the ground and his shiny dress shoe is stomping on it. You claw at his back, kicking and screaming “You psycho! Put me down!”

A smack echoed through the trees. Your ass stings as you embarrassingly laid limp over the detective's shoulder. He walks both of you back to the car. There was no getting out of this situation and before, you knew it. You were thrown into the backseat of the car, an angry August looming over you.

You both were breathing heavy as you stared at each other, and before you knew it, he was smashing his lips onto yours. You should have screamed more, or headbutted him like Yoongi taught you, bit his tongue when it slipped inside your mouth, but you didn't.

You allowed him to put his tongue in your mouth. You allowed him to grope your chest as he grinded himself against your crotch and you let the moans slip from your mouth. High-pitched and whiny they were. When you two parted a thin line of spit followed his lips immediately latched hard onto your neck.

He was mumbling. You couldn't what he was saying with the way his hands roughly dragged your work pants down your ankles and rubbing you through your damp panties. Humorlessly he laughed,

“If this is the mess he would leave i wouldn't mind cleaning it”

"I wonder which one of you got the most attention growing up?" smirking as you egg him on further, making him bite your neck hard, you were sure there was blood leaking. "You run your pretty fucking mouth too much." Shoving your panties into your mouth roughly shoving your legs up to your chest.

Staring at your glistening folds he groans, slim fingers ghosting over your peeking clitoris. Your thighs quiver as his fingers sink into your wet hole, moaning against the damp fabric in your mouth. “I wonder what my brother would say if he knew how easy it was to get you spread open for me.”

Lewd sounds came from the bottom half of you as his curled fingers roughly fucked your insides, you were sure that the mess was leaking onto the dark interior of his car. He never looked away from your face, staring intensely into your eyes and every time you closed your his thumb would press directly on your swollen and sensitive clit. “You're gonna cum?” He asked obviously, telling from the way your thighs twitched and from the way you squeezed his fingers like they'd stolen something from you.

“Slut” he hissed, watching you fall apart in loud high pitched, pornographic moans. He didn't stop his movements until you were sobbing for him to stop, the buzz and sting in between your legs was simply too much to handle. “Tch...” he removed his finger from your insides smacking his palm against the wet flesh. His pants were hurriedly unbuttoned, and his hot flesh smacked onto your own.

When he sinks himself into you— gasping out loud nails digging into your palms. While Yoongi was long and curved at the tip like a dagger stabbing at your g spot, August was thick from bottom to top, feeling him throbbing inside you as he forced himself deep into your stomach. “This is why he kills for you, fuck...

His thrust rocked the car heavily as your moans and his occasional grunts filled the small space. Your noises muffled against the panties in your mouth, damp with your saliva. You could feel his thrust becoming sloppier and your stomach tightening. The grip on your neck loosened as he pulled you to kiss him. Your organisms crashed together as your thighs shook against his waist and he came deep inside your withering body. The two of you laid there breathing heavily as your eyes slowly began to drift shut. “If this is what gets you to shut up, I would've done it a long time ago.”

He huffs, swiping his fallen curls back as he moves to untie you, removing the cloth from your mouth as you limply laid. He wrapped his suit jacket around you and pulled up your pants still mumbling. “Sleep well, we've got 20 minutes left.”

You awoke with a yawn rolling over you blinked a couple times before remembering your night eyes popping open you wipe the sleep from them, blinking. “Goodmornin’ doll.”

Min Yoongi hovered over you with a gummy smirk causing you to gasp. Leaping up from your plaited position your arms wrapping around his neck. He hugs you back tucking his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that always stuck to your skin. In that moment you forgot that you were supposed to be mad at the man too overwhelmed with his presence. He pulled back pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes were darker than usual. Sucken in from the weeks of lack of sleeping and you noticed how much thinner he was.

Then it hit you like a truck.

August, kidnapped? the car, his dick . . .

You were a dirty dog clinging to your boyfriend after getting your brains fucked out by his twin brother who he obviously dislikes.

You cry into his neck as he shushes you, he was way too calm about this and that was just the signs of a storm slowly but surely brewing. He lets you go softly, standing to his feet. Nodding at the clothes hanging on the dresser in front of you "Put those on and meet me downstairs." With a quick kiss he leaves you sniffing and alone.

Descending down the long staircase your bare feet pad against the cold tiles. You spot Yoongi and his men standing at the bottom. Yoongi watched you walk down hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, cigarettes burning between his lips. He was quick to grab you when you finally hit the last set of stairs, arm snuggly wrapping around your waist as he walked you through the large house.

"Where are we Yoon?"

"Do you trust me?" He asked, as Namjoon opened the door to the outside. Your eyes widen in horror as you see what's behind the door.

He grabs your face to make you look him in the eyes as he asks you again more aggressively "Do you trust me Y/N?"

You sniff back tears looking the man you love in the eyes. "Yes. I do Yoongi."

He clicks his tongue staring at you a moment longer. "I don't believe you."

You let out a string of protests as he drags you outside, you stumbled falling to your knees. You hand smacking into the pool of blood. You gagged dry heaving as Yoongi scoffed at you snatching you back to your feet.

Blood staining the concrete ground as multiple bodies lay only inches away from you both. Their faces were covered with blood stained bags, and their hands and feet tied together. You could hear some sobbing and begging while others laid still more than likely dead.

You stood there shaking in fear as you watched Yoongi pull a gun from the waistband of his pants. While Namjoon and Hoseok pulled a squirming man in front of you. "You see, doll everything I do is for a reason."

"I tell you to stay out of my business for a reason"

"I tell you to keep Hobi at your side for a reason."

He clicked the silver weapon as he yanks the sheet of the man's head revealing August. His face was bruised and bloody as he stared from the gun to you. A humorless chuckle leaves his lips as he bows his head to the ground. "If you shoot me, our pact is done, and you'll never see the light of day or your slut again."

Verbally wincing when Yoongi knocks the butt his gun against his brother's face. August makes no sound head turning as he spits the blood from his mouth. Yoongi crouches down to his level, clicking his tongue as he hums. "I'm not gonna shoot you August what kind of little brother would I be?"

"Grab the runts." He tells his right hand men, bringing in Taehyung and Jungkook who struggled against them. "You see brother you think you're so smart because you got your little degree."

"But that doesn't mean shit." He stands to his full height turning towards. "There's a reason our father gave me his empire and not you. You're predictable and impulsive you think fucking my girl is going to send me over the edge and make me break our pact by ending your miserable life."

He laughs, "Well August... I'm not going to kill you no matter how much I'm burning too."

He turned towards you giving you a gummy smile. Not at all appropriate for the current circumstance you were in. "She is."

- © hobicakess ! do not steal, modify, copy, plagiarize, nor repost any of the works on this blog without given permission!

[topherwrites]

- start of a silver fox

summary - back from deployment, you notice a change in your boyfriend's appearance. pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 1.4k rating - no smut, but 18+ anyways, mdni! content warnings & tags - age gap (reader is in her early twenties, jake is in his early thirties) / fwb to lovers / no use of (y/n) / vague allusions to sex / mentions of nudes / mentions of masturbation / no actual smut / mentions of death (sorta) / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: saw these recent photos of glen ➙ became possessed ➙ wrote this. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated!

Jake is back after three long months on deployment, a fourth of your relationship — not counting the first couple months when you were ‘just hooking up’. This is your first welcome back. Having texted extensively with Nat’s girlfriend, Sasha, you were given a pretty good lay of the land by her, informed of what to expect.

Homecoming day has arrived, and excitement has consumed your entire body, making your limbs buzz. 

Awaiting his arrival on the pier, your foot tapping out a nervous rhythm, you stand in the back, allowing spouses and children to be the first in line. You’re just the girlfriend, the one almost a decade younger than him, the one you know his friends assumed wouldn't be around long. You assumed you wouldn't be around long. Jake is a charmer, and when he set his sights on you, you assumed it would be a one-night stand, a fling at most. 

But one night turned into two and then three, which turned into nearly three months of falling asleep and waking up next to him. Most days you’d get a text the second he was done with training, the buzz of your phone always kicking up your heartbeat. 

At first, you’d just meet him at The Hard Deck for drinks, then dinner at sit-down restaurants — the preambles to him fucking the shit out of you growing longer and decidedly less casual. Post-coital, he’d sling an arm around your waist in an attempt to keep you from slipping out, waking up with that same soothing weight on you. Eventually, he casually mentioned that you could keep some of your stuff at his place — for convenience, he said. He tried slipping the suggestion under the radar, pre-coffee on a Saturday morning. Bleary-eyed and half-asleep, you barely processed his words, absent-mindedly humming in response. 

Then you saw the half-cleared-out drawer — which you later learned was a measure in order not to spook you. Like a full drawer would make you wise to his intentions, like he was trying to acclimate you to the idea of commitment, to a relationship with him.

You remember the feeling of placing spare clothes in that drawer; a spare bra and sweatshirt. Jake watching you from the doorway, trying to not act too pleased in response.

You liked him, his company and his laugh and his baffling love of Taylor Swift that he blamed on his nieces. The man under the bravado wormed his way into your brain. 

Though, you could appreciate how he looked puffed-chest and cocksure. Near equally competitive as you are. The first game night you spent with his friends meant you both were banned from ever being on the same team again. Pictionary, trivia, One-Night Ultimate Werewolf — you mopped the floor with them. The rule wasn't entirely the case of sore losers, you can acknowledge the fact that you two were immediately, freakishly in sync. Ultimate Werewolf may have ended in tears of betrayal being shed.

And that's how things progressed for a while, falling deeper while avoiding acknowledging the fact that you were in a relationship. Afraid to say the words and make things complicated. Near everyone in both your and his life were trying to push you both to just trust it. Have a little faith in one another.

One minute you were his girlfriend in all but name, and then you were just his girlfriend. A confession on his couch in the midst of rewatching Veep, ‘Relax, cow eyes’ the soundtrack to everything falling into place.

────────────────────────

Once officers start filtering off the ship, your mind blanks in anxiety. Around you, tears are shed, and poster board is ditched in favor of tight hugs. Laughter and children squealing background noise. You scan the crowd, the sun beating down on you, searching for the handsome shape of Jake Seresin. People come and go, giving you a better view of the naval officers, till you finally spot yours moving towards you. He weaves through the throng with ease, standing before you in a matter of seconds. 

A smile stretches your face, eyes squinting from both happiness and the sun. You scan him, categorizing any minute change. Gray. A small streak above his right ear. Your nerve endings light up like a Christmas tree, the sensation doubling at the slight hint of age. Reaching out, your fingers run across his scalp, nails tracing back, playing with the hair that has decided in his relatively brief absence to go gray. 

He doesn't shy from your touch, his lashes fluttering at the sensation, an intimate moment playing out in public. Though no one is probably taking notice, wrapped up in their own reunion. He does seem to be a hint abashed at your attention. 

He breaks the quiet, “Hey, sweetheart.”

The sound of his voice, clear and unobstructed by distance, rushes through you. Fuck. You're trying to suppress the blatant arousal coursing through your system, keep it out of your voice. Words startled, voice pitched, “You've gone gray.”

Despite your age gap, it’s never been your thing, your Tinder age range has only ever been set 3 years older — but seeing Jake in the flesh, and with a few more grays, is making you muster every ounce of self-control so you don't fuck him in the parking lot, ride him in the backseat of his truck. He probably wouldn't enjoy getting dishonorably discharged.

He hefts his duffle over his shoulder, free hand taking your own to lead you to the car — his truck that he handed the keys over to, something in his gaze when he told you to not let the battery die. Maybe a way for him to feel connected to you, maybe a reassurance that you'd be around when he got back. Your board is still in the bed, having taken up surfing in the mornings since your time was no longer being occupied by Jake slowly fucking you into the mattress.

“I already had grays, I'm just… grayer now.” His pace is quick. It's clear that he's itching to get home. Your boots stamp on the pavement as you practically skip behind him, content with his hand in yours. He looks at you out of the side of his eye, eyebrow raised, “And I wonder why that is.”

“That suspiciously sounds like an accusation.”

“Those photos…” He stops at the teal-striped Ford, throwing his duffle next to your surfboard. Crowding you against the side of it.​, his​​ voice dropping, “​I was opening my mail in the mess, ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”

You’d sent them on a whim — a well-researched whim, ​​you didn't need some random desk jockey finding out your taste in lingerie. But you had missed Jake and wanted him to miss you in return. And what better way to make the heart grow fonder than with scantily clad pictures of your body?

“Well? Did you like them?” You know he liked them, it was a whole production to take them, but even if it wasn't — he’s a man, and you were in lingerie. You looked hot, are hot, present tense. An indisputable fact. And he’s not reserved with telling you and showing you that, but you can't pass up a moment to hear it voiced to you, not after how long he’s been gone.

“I think I have carpal tunnel.” 

You snort out a laugh as he exaggeratedly shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist for your amusement. Eyes skating along your features, he huffs, “Add that to the long list of ailments you've inflicted.”

Letting your fingers lightly trace down his biceps, you press your body even closer to his, perhaps a touch too scandalous for a parking lot in broad daylight. A coy reply rolls off your tongue, “I keep you young.”

“You're going to send me to an early grave.”

Rising to your toes, you brush your lips against his, holding back from full contact. You feel his breath stall in his chest, desperate for it. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing, his face awash in anticipation. He’s beautiful.

Your palm stroking the side of his head, you brush the hair away from his face, pinky skimming the top of his ear. You single out the silver strands between your fingers, silky soft as ever. He’s real and yours — home. 

“Ditto. Might as well invest in matching plots, right?”

Broad shoulders shaking with laughter, he brushes his nose against yours. Palms cupping the side of your face, thumbs sweeping across your cheeks, he stops waiting. A long-awaited kiss pressed to your lips, neither one of you able to keep the smiles off your faces.

e/n: thank you for reading!

[ecoamerica]

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