#also i think his pants are clever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilfluvrr10 · 4 months

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Hello can you write a smut about virgin joost x virgin reader? Thankss

I wrote this pretty quickly so ignore any errors but this one's for all the horny bastards out there. I see you.

Stolen Glances ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

CW: Nsfw, age gap

word count: 2.5k

(I was writing from 1st person than kept randomly switching to 2nd person when I was thinking of Joost's pov, she's a little messy sorry)

My thoughts ran wild as I chewed on the end of my pencil. I was supposed to be revising for my biology exam tomorrow, but how could I when a man as heart throbbing as Joost was sat right in front of me. My father was a well-established manager who had represented the biggest musicians of my time. He had reached out to Joost after his breakthrough single ‘Friesenjung’ and together they had boosted Joost’s international stardom to new levels. My father always had a good eye for talent. They had developed a close bond over the short time they had worked together, my father, a clever and creative man who never stifled Joost’s artistry. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve always been involved in his work, going on tour, tagging along for press and having a string of musicians over at our house constantly. But this was different. Maybe it was just hormones or whatever, a part of growing up, or maybe it was because father was particularly fond of him, or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged me. I don’t know what it was, but he made me feel things I’ve never felt before.

He sat directly in front of me, discussing marketing for his next song, a favourable topic for both Joost and my father. They had been at it for hours, going back and forth intently at our dining room table when I walked in- deciding I wanted to do my work in more ‘natural light’. Of course, I just wanted to be around Joost, his entire demeanour utterly intoxicating to me. I sat at the end of our long dining table, and with my father’s back turned to me, I couldn’t resist stealing glances at Joost every chance I got. In a daze, I admired the way his brows subconsciously furrowed a little in concentration, the way he talked so expressively with his hands. His hands. My mind gradually became clouded with thoughts of his hands roaming my body, what his hands would look like around my neck. I bit down harder on the pencil, almost touching lead. Discreetly, I crossed my legs and squeezed my thighs together, feining for any pressure down there.

Joost could feel your eyes swallowing him whole. It was nothing new to him now, you always had your beautiful doe eyes plastered to him. He had no problem with the admiration you gave him, he understood your young curiosity. He also understood he could never act on it, could never betray his manager like that. Touching his daughter in all the places she daydreamed about, taking a bit of her sweet innocence away all for himself. No. He’d stay out of your way, be kind to you in other ways, like helping with your school work (even though he was hopeless in his own high school days) and making sure you weren’t too stressed with exams by making you laugh whenever he could. You had been staring at him for quite a while now, you must’ve been particularly horny today, he thought to himself. A slight smirk nipping at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and adjusted his pants around his crotch knowing you’ll catch it.

I nearly threw up as he moved in his chair, legs spread as he leaned back adjusting his pants. My eyes grew wide with embarrassment when I noticed Joost’s gaze flicker towards me, evident he knew the affect he had on me. In a panic I hurriedly ran to my room. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of Joost realising how I felt about him, all he’d ever been to me was kind and now he’s going to think of me as some naive girl with a hopeless crush on him. I cried, regret and humiliation in every drop that soaked my pillow. How could I have been so careless with my feelings?

A light knock at my bedroom door had awoken me from my tear-fueled slumber. Vaguely disorientated, I searched around for my phone. The bright, white light illuminated the room: 9:15pm. “Shit” I wasn’t meant to sleep all day. Groggily, I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door, questioning who it might be.

Joost could tell you had been crying, your eyes red-rimmed and still slightly swollen. He hated seeing you like this, “oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?” his voice soft and concerned.

“Joost…no, no it’s fine...everything okay?” the back of my throat burned, and my voice was faintly raspy.

“You left your things on the table, I just thought I’d drop them off before I went to bed,” he handed me my textbook and laptop but lingered in the doorway as if he had something else to say.

“Are you okay? You’ve been in your room since lunch, tell me what’s going on,” Joost always carried a comforting energy, I felt like I could tell him anything. But not this.

“Oh yeah I was up late last night, got really tired I guess,” followed by a small awkward laugh. Joost stood tall in front of me, having to look up to talk to him filled me with dirty thoughts. He wore a white tank, plaid pyjama pants and his night prescription glasses. His hair scruffy, signalling he had already been in bed. I began questioning the intentions of Joost’s visit, did he really just want to return my things? This late at night? No matter how guilty I felt, I couldn’t shake the butterflies growing in my stomach at the tension between us.

He looked down at you, you were avoiding eye contact now, your leg bouncing nervously and your fingers tapping the door where you held it open. Oh how shy he made you, how vulnerable and yielding. He felt bad after what had happened today, he contemplated for hours in bed if he should make it up to you tonight or just let it be. But seeing you now made it an easy choice.

“You know, I really don’t mind” he almost whispered, tilting his head and stepping ever so slightly closer. I glanced up once again, confusion and anticipation coursing through me. “Mind what?” I asked through a clueless façade. He shook his head, slowly stepping forward until he was completely in the confines of my bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. Just me and him. “I see the way you look at me…I’ve seen the way you cross your legs in the process” a wild smile danced over his lips, that’s when I realised this was all wildly funny to him. The entire time I’ve been losing my fucking mind over this man- he had been totally and utterly aware and amused. I scoffed at his upfront words, “God, what are you talking about Joost. You’re crazy, what are you getting at-” I was abruptly cut off by Joost’s huge hands firmly placed on my arms, pushing me back towards my bed.

“Sit.” With your lips still slightly parted with the ghost of whatever bullshit you were carrying on about, you obeyed, looking down into your lap and fidgeting with your fingers. Your surge of false confidence had been his last straw. He was going to give you whatever you wanted, all you had to do was tell him. He traced a tender finger along your jawline, he glimpsed your eyelashes fluttering from his angle, felt your breath hitch. He lifted your chin with his index finger, Those gorgeous eyes shimmering wide with unspoken desire.

Already, I was going to absolutely crumble under Joost’s very minimal touch. His fingers barely grazing my skin were well enough to send shivers cascading down my spine. I was timid and taken aback but at the same time I craved more; I wanted to feel him everywhere. “What were you saying?” he flashed another one of his cheeky grins I loved so much. His sly comment made me laugh this time around, turning the tense atmosphere surprisingly warm. He sat down next to me, causing fleeting touches of our arms and thighs. I was enveloped in his familiar scent, calming my nerves further. He placed a hand on my thigh, his tattooed finger drawing delicate circles as he spoke. “Let me give you what you want” his voice was low and hummed a beautiful harmony. I’d imagined this scenario countless times ever since I first laid eyes on my Joost. He had no idea what I’d let him do to me.

“Just be gentle,” the sweet sound of your consent aroused Joost more than he ever could’ve imagined. He wrapped his other hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in inches from him. With his thumb he caressed your bottom lip, your breathing heavy and erratic against every move he made. “I wouldn’t be anything else for you” he uttered softly, his words dripping with reassurance before grabbing your face and placing a light kiss over your needy lips.

For me, this small kiss was a revelation. The taste of him, the feeling of a mans lips pressed against mine while his hands caressed my body, it was a rush of sensations I’ve never experienced before. He lightly pecked my lips once more before smashing hungrily into me, kissing and sucking. With his hands still cradling my face and his lips still glued to mine he urged me to lay down. I wrapped one arm around his neck, and one hand curled around his bicep beside my head as he ruthlessly attacked my lips a while longer.

Heavenly whimpers escaped both you and Joost, still being cautious not to wake anyone. Pulling away and seeing your lips so swollen and kiss-bitten made Joost so proud.

My body ached for him, “I can’t take much more of this” I whined as he left a trail of kisses down my neck. He lifted my shirt up over my head and continued down my stomach, his hands eagerly grabbing the sides of my waist and tits. He stopped at the edge of my pants, sat up and came to rest his back against the head of the bed. “Come here baby” he softly instructed me while patting the space in between his outstretched legs. He held me steady while I took up position, my close to bare back comfortably leaning into his chest, the difference in size apparent. His arms draped down to my thighs, his fingers never failing to caress every inch. Waves of comfort came with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he lowered his tongue to the nape of my neck, licking a long stripe up to my ear.

“Just relax,” he breathed, making the hairs on my neck stand straight. His hands ventured back to my pants, pulling them off with deliberate slowness, I lifted my hips to help and kicked them off the bed. “You’re so beautiful,” each word warm against my skin. His tantalizing hands resumed their careful journey as the cool air nipped against my newly exposed skin. I sucked in an audible breath as his fingers trailed up my inner thigh, “Is this okay?,” he said pausing just before my underwear to gauge my reaction. A weak nod was all I could muster up, I couldn’t resist slowly rocking my hips back and forth against him from the thrill of his touch. With my eyes closed tight I buried my face into Joost as the pad of his thumb brushed over the delicate fabric along my wet slit.

You squirmed into Joost ceaselessly, as he applied more and more pressure, unknowingly giving him a massage of his own through his pants. Your panties were becoming increasingly more damp, to the point where they clung to you leaving nothing to the imagination. Joost took this as a sign you were ready for more. You hadn’t opened your eyes since he started, your head was turned to the side, buried in his chest resulting in your neck being awfully exposed. A hot half moan escaped your lips in surprise as Joost’s mouth worked skillfully on your sensitive neck, his tongue flicking against your skin before he sucked ravenously, drawing out even more of those sweet, breathless sounds. At the same time he slipped his hand underneath the waistband of your underwear. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders and mouth wide open as he stroked your swollen clit and folds. You were involuntarily trembling and bucking against him as he fingered you to the edge. Every muscle inside your body was quivering aggressively. Deep tremors formed in your core and rippled outward. All composure was gone under his overwhelming touch.

My breaths came in heavy, uneven gasps. My chest rising and falling rapidly. I was completely at his mercy as his fingers worked me closer and closer. Every nerve in my body was aflame, my senses so desperately flooded by the delicious friction and heat of his touch. I was right there, teetering on the edge, ready to dive into the abyss of ecstasy he had created. Then his hands pulled away.

The abrupt halt left me gasping, my body trembling with unfulfilled need and anguish. My eyes flew open to meet his, “Joost, why would you stop?” He ignored my question and kissed me in compensation. “Not yet” was all he gave me. I kissed him open-mouthed and needy, my heart ponded in my chest, tension lingering in my aching body. With our lips still attached I wrapped a hand around the firm forearm draped around my waist and guided him back to down to the hot mess he had left me with. Desire still burning hotter than ever.

“You need me that bad baby,” his accent a seductive melody. “Please,” the desperation in my voice so evident- my cheeks burnt red. He gave no resistance to the tiny hand around his wrist, full of urgency and insistence. This time your eyes never left his, the intensity of longing clear to him. He found his hand back where you needed It most, your hips arched, silently begging for his touch. The moment his fingers made contact once again, a shudder ran through you, a suppressed moan released. “Don’t stop,” you commanded. You had a certain feralness to you the second time around, showing him exactly where and how you wanted him. Never letting go of the tightening grip around his wrist. Your body was pressed tightly into Joost’s, using him shamelessly like a toy. You needed him to finish what he had started, and you weren’t afraid to show him how much you wanted it. The reserved nature he knew you by was overcome by an insatiable desire. He pushed his tattooed fingers deep into your gushing entrance, frantically pumping in and out of you. “Fuckk,” tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally came.

Joost’s touch softened immediately, noticing you were overstimulated. You turned to your side still heightened with emotions and riding out the orgasm. With tender care Joost cradled you in his arms, running his hand through your hair, soothing you through the storm. “You’re okay.”

Nestled into the curve of his arms, you felt a soft blanket envelop you, and with a sigh of content you allowed yourself to surrender to sleep.

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(And he never even took any cloths off)

Also just realised I never actually stated she was a virgin

#joost klein fanfic #joost klein requests #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein smut #justice for joost #joost klein #europapa

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andy-wm · 3 months

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I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment, originating in Roman mime, in which performers express meaning through gestures accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

Lets begin 1, 2

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

#park jimin #jeon jungguk #jikook #kookmin #국민 #true love #jungkook #bts jimin #jimin comeback #jimin sgmb #smeraldo garden marching band

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anisangeldust · 5 months

Text

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Office Hours 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Anakin definitely has a favorite student.

Pairing: Prof!Anakin x Student!Fem!Reader

Warnings: READER IS 18!, masturbation (m receiving), mentions of sex, no use of ‘y/n’, undertones of grooming.

A/N: Ik this shouldn’t be glorified, but i also crave for an older man to tell me he’s proud of me and that i’m doing a good job <\3. Also i hope the perspective changes make sense in this!

PART 2 HERE!

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Anakin loved grading your work, in fact, he set aside your papers so he could grade them together.

He taught a required course, one that all student who wished to have a degree in anything to do with English had to take and pass. Some hated it, most just did their work and got their grade.

But not you.

You cared, Anakin could tell. you were always on time, you were attentive, a gifted writer, a wonderful person, and a great student. On top of all that, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

At first he kicked himself for his feelings, telling himself it was inappropriate, that it was wrong, how dare he think about one of his students like that! But you were 18 and he was only 32, that’s not so bad right?

The more he stared to feel about you, the more he let himself think about you. How could he not? When you always wore little pink bows at the back of your pigtails, when your lips were always pink and glossy, your cheeks always flushed when he’d compliment your work. You were truly an angel, perhaps a goddess; but that didn’t matter to him.

He’d worship you either way.

The ding of a clock indicated that he had 30 minutes to grade before his next class started, the class you were in, and he dug into the pile of ungraded work like it was the best book he’d ever read.

The last assignment Anakin gave was easy but long, a research paper on a book of your choice. Then you had to take notes on your work and turn in the paper and notebook.

He was giddy with he saw yours, the essay neatly tucked into the cover of the notebook, adorned with a small smiley face on the corner by your name. Anakin saved yours for last, a little treat he reminded himself as the other students’ work was less than savory.

When he got to yours he opened it up and almost groaned with excitement. never would he be over how neat and tidy your handwriting was, nor the fact that you wrote the whole thing in with a crisp, pink ballpoint pen.

Your work was superb, as always.

Anakin could have cum in his pants from how careful your essay was, the time and detail was apparent as he read through your incredible notes. He read both over and over again before the filing in of students reminded him that class was starting soon.

He wrote a few notes on your work and put it in the stack of graded notebooks to hand back.

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“Brilliant work as always clever girl”

The words seemed to jump out at you, they were right next to the big red 98% on the corner of the essay you just got back from your favorite professor.

Surely it meant nothing, he was a professor, an educator, he was meant to praise those who did good, so why when directed to you did it always feel so different?

‘Maybe i’m just better than the people in here’ was the thought that jumped forward in your mind, of course your professor didn’t have a crush on you! what a silly thought to even entertain!

Yet his glances at you when you left the classroom, and the fixing of his pants when you smiles and waved at him made you think otherwise.

————————————————————————-

Anakin was rock hard when your class got out. the look on your face when you saw your final grade and the little note he wrote was enough to make a lesser man moan out loud. The way you chewed on your nail the rest of the class and jotted down notes had him sitting down so his erection was less apparent.

Naturally, he wasted no time when the day ended.

He quickly discarded himself of his blazer before sitting in his desk chair and unzipping his pants, his aching dick slapping against his stomach as he pulled down his boxers and immediately started rubbing the pad of his thumb over his leaking tip.

He wondered what it would feel like if it was your cunt, the mewls that would erupt from your throat, the desperate movement of your hips as he pounded you into his desk, the wet slapping of your arousal, god he craved you.

After gently teasing himself for a few moments, he fully wrapped his hand around his full length and began to messily jerk himself, your name falling from his lips like a sacred mantra.

The moment felt so good, the feeling of his hand was heavenly against his aching length, it was so good that he began to wonder what he could do to get you to let him fuck you, asking you up front could lead to him losing his job, no.. he needed privacy, he needed to know you wanted it to.

Ropes of cum spurted from his fat dick, the moments of clarity allowing him to think of the most perfect scheme.

————————————————————————-

The flutter in your heart was almost painful, you had ran the moment over and over again in your mind. Double, triple, quadruple checking that you weren’t crazy, that your beloved professor did, in fact, call you sweetheart.

If you were a man you’d 100% have a boner right now.

All you did was mention how you were proud of yourself for your grade on your last assignment, you were not expecting your beloved Professor Skywalker to quip back with-

“I’m proud of you too sweetheart”

-you could’ve cum right there, and you might’ve if you didn’t race out of that classroom like someone was chasing you.

This was wrong, horrible, ghastly. Though he wasn’t married, he had a tendency to ramble during his lectures, he was still 32! a whole 14 years older than you! But no amount of self-scrutiny could stop you from wanting to tangle your hands in his shaggy blonde curls while you rode him like a stallion.

———

The next few weeks felt interesting to say the least.

It seems your professor was un-aware of how much he was affecting you. the semester was coming to a close, so he rid himself of his blazer to prepare for the summer air, dawning only a white button up that displayed his back muscles the way they deserved.

You wanted to rip him apart, claw at his back until it was bloody and raw, suck on his skin untill you were the only thing he could feel, you wanted to destroy him, the only stronger feeling in your system was your want for him to destroy you.

His little notes also changed. It went form standard teacher notes like:

Awesome! or you did great!

to ones you could tell he only left on your paper, adorned in the corner of everything you got back was:

good girl, i’m so proud, i knew you could do it princess

It was getting too much to bare, he even started to touch you, to let his hands linger. Like when he passed you in the library and places his hands on your hips to move by you. It was too much.

He had to know what he was doing right? he had to know that you were rubbing your pussy raw to the thought of him, gridding pillows and hooking up with random boys that had similar mops of curly blonde hair and piercing cobalt eyes. he had to right?

He did.

————————————————————————-

Anakin knew he had you. Weeks of teasing, testing the waters, leading you to him, and you finally took the bait.

When he opened his E-Mail this morning and saw one from you he almost jumped out of his skin. it was professional, just you saying that you’d like to chat about your grades, but he knew, he knew the moment you walked in that you were his, that you’d do whatever he wanted.

It just so happened he was unavailable the rest of the day after you scheduled your office hours.

———

Anakin groaned, he thought maybe he could wait, that he could hold in his desires for after you two spoke, but he just couldn’t. He was uncomfortably. hard, his whole body was shaking from need, and it was still 5 minutes until you had scheduled to see him.

despite his better judgments, he undid his belt and palmed himself through his boxers, it felt so good, his balls were heavy with need and the tiny wet patch indicated that he needed to get off, now.

Yanking down his boxers, he did the same thing he did everytime he was alone with the thought of you, his hand pumping up and down his fat cock. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. he was so deaf, in fact, that he didn’t hear the rattle of the turning knob to his office door.

“Professor Skywal-“ your voice was sweet like velvet. His eyes shot open.

shit.

————————————————————————-

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker smut #star wars #anisangeldust #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin smut #hayden christensen smut

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 4 months

Note

What would the joestars (part 1-9) reactions to their darling (gender neutral) skirt getting lifted/flinged up by a kid?

( I got inspired from that one scene from frieren where a boy lifts up her skirt...and i personally wanna see the yandere joestars reactions lol.)

https://youtu.be/gd8kDrA9bi8?si=7UVFjAViup42cxZw

There’s the resounding thought of “is it wrong to beat up a child?” going through the Joestar’s heads.

Yandere! Jonathan Joestar

He’s fast enough to pick up whatever kid did this to his poor darling. No amount of smacking and thrashing will make him let go until they apologize, and Jonathan is pretty upset and makes it clear never to do it again. He appears to almost be a very stern parent talking to them, but there’s just a little bit of an intimidating aura behind it that it scares the kid off. Not to mention his large muscular stature helps fend them off as well.

He’ll probably walk you home after and make sure the kid doesn’t try jumping you (He knows how petty an angered person can be sometimes).

Yandere! Joseph Joestar

He can play petty, and he’s not going to let some snot nosed brat just upskirt his darling like that. (that’s a view he’s only allowed to have) The kid doesn’t get far at all, and probably even trips with whatever hamon trick Joseph decides to play off. He flicks the kids nose, maybe even pinches it.

“Cheeky little….you think you’re clever, but you’re not getting far with me, go home already”

He’s absolutely petty enough to give the kid a shaken up soda, and have it explode all over him later, (and maybe pants him, himself at some point). He’ll deny it later when you bring it up

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo

Under normal circumstances he’d be pissed, but being obsessive puts that anger through the roof. Star Platinum grabs the kid by the collar, and pulls them backwards. His stare is cold as ice, there’s zero patience in his voice as he also trips the kid with his stand by the feet. “How about you run home before something that you don’t like happens punk” is about the most restrained Jotaro can be at this point. He’s definitely tempted to punt the brat into the sun

The kid likely has a bloody nose, freaks out and books it out of there in a blink of an eye terrified. Alternatively there’s a chance Jotaro catches the kid early with a little use of his time stop, and smacks the kid in the back of the head with his hand. (Nothing concussion worthy) but it still sends the perpetrator packing.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (P4)

It irritates him almost instantly as insulting his hair, he’s on a similar level as Joseph when it comes to these things and the kid is going to have something not quite looking right after the use of Crazy Diamond. Who knows how the kid ended up in a fountain later, it totally wasn’t him! There might be a few other embarrassing stints and the kid eventually never walks your or his way ever again.

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna

His reaction would be interesting here, there’s a weird mix of calmness and pettiness wrapped into one. Firstly the blonde likely manages to pickpocket the kid right off the cuff. Tells the kid he forgot something while waving a wallet or a small amount of money around. Giorno has an obviously fake smile on his face, talks to the kid for a moment or two out of your earshot, perhaps you see an ear pinch out of your peripheral vision.

Though a scream erupts shortly after and the kid is running off slapping insects off themselves.

Yandere! Jolyne Kujo

She’s not the type to take stupid crap like upskirting happening to you (much like her father). The kid almost instantly gets caught by stone free, tripping him up. “What do you think you’re doing kid?” She’ll be asking them if they think their age is a get out of jail free card for acting like a brat. Jolyne will absolutely clever enough to make it look like she’s a sibling of this kid while giving him a taste of their own medicine.

Since they likely cant see stone free, the kid keeps tripping over and over. She might keep him still enough for a few birds to come over and do their business. Maybe hold their mouth open a bit, and suggests not telling anyone about this unless they want their parents to know them as the town pervert.

Yandere! Johnny Joestar

He’d pretend to almost not even notice this kids antics, but the kid quickly gets tripped up by spin. If there is any objects around they would just happen to trip into them. “Not sure what you’re trying to pull there, but it’s not a smart idea to pull that stunt to someone I like” Johnny tells them bluntly. This kid probably ends up “falling” again in mud or another unsavory mix from horses. He just gives the kid a cold stare and gestures them to leave for their own safety.

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (Gappy) Part 8

There’s some soft humming as he goes to stop the kid who decided to upskirt you. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he grips the kid’s wrist firmly. He makes it clear he’s upset, and likely embarrasses the kid by messing with their hair, making it an obnoxiously ugly style or generally dumping something on them. With the bonus of the kid walking into a pole before rushing off, ( all of that may or may have not had to do with Soft & Wet)

Yandere! Jodio Joestar

There’s really no going back when you mess with his darling. Anything he does to this kid, he doesn’t regret in the slightest. “Want to see my sense of humor?” He’ll probably ask almost mockingly. He asks how’s the weather to kid, and casually uses November Rain on them. If he has food or a drink he doesn’t hesitate to dump it on the kid either. “I don’t think I want a sorry honestly….seems too…insincere for what you did” he shrugs.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere jjba #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #yandere headcanons #jjba imagines #yandere jonathan joestar #Yandere jotaro kujo #yandere joseph joestar #yandere Josuke Higashikata #Yandere pt 8 Josuke Higashikata #yandere jolyne cujoh #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere johnny joestar #yandere Jodio joestar

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rodolfoparras · 8 months

Note

ah your professor price drabble done killed me i'm so insane about him.

i love professor student dynamics but they almost always have sub/bottom reader if you can even find male reader which is just... yeah. BUT YOUR WRITING OH MY GODS. it's edible i'm literally gnawing on professor price who finally found a student to challenge him and immediately wants to fuck. so valid. i too am attracted to people who are willing to have academic banter with me, price, you're so real.

also imagine fucking him over his desk after hours and joking about it being for extra credit he would be so annoyed dnajndakd

-🪔

Genuinely nothing brings me more joy than taking stereotypical tropes and roles and swapping them around because why not I want body guard/ royalty trope where price is the royalty and falls for the body guard I want professor price who’s head over heels for a student I want secretary loser price falling for ceo reader

Pt 1 of professor!Price x student!reader

Cw: age gap, reader is in his 20s!!!, professor student relationship, power dynamics, price is a bit of a creep, 18+

Okay but hear me out… jealous professor!Price

Price doesn’t like you. He couldn’t- shouldn’t. He’s a professor and you’re his student. If anything, these little fantasies were just that, fantasies, a way of getting through a boring work day.

Was it wrong? Sure. But it’s not like he plans on acting on them so might as well indulge in them.

Fuck he sounds like a perverted old man but he can’t find it in himself to care as he unbuttons his pants, takes his weeping cock in his hand, while thinking of your interactions from the day, can’t help but wear a plug to work, stretching the tight ring of muscles, preparing himself as if you’d fuck him after the lecture, can’t help but live off of these fantasies til he gets home for the day, and fucks himself with one of his dildos while imaging it’s your cock instead.

Fantasies.

That’s what it is.

Nothing more nothing less.

However he finds himself less sure about his feelings when he’s one day standing at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed and brow raised, staring at the random student sitting a bit too close to you.

“Professor Price I have a question…”

The sound of another student’s voice snaps him out of his trance, heat creeping up his face and and vehemently avoiding your questioning gaze while proceeding to answer the student’s question.

Later on when the lecture ends he notices you and the same student from earlier walking out together. Price proceeds to packs up his stuff, all while continuously thinking about who that student was.

He hasn’t seen this kid hanging out with you before. The fact that the two of you were friends seemed so bizarre since- No. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He had no business questioning who you were and weren’t friends with. Besides he couldn’t be jealous now right? He didn’t like you that way. He didn’t like you at all.

That random student’s name turned out to be Tim and in a short amount of time you’d become very close friends with him to the point where you and him would be whispering about in class. Price would purposely interrupt your discussion with a question thinking you wouldn’t be able to answer him but you’d always be prepared, sounding and looking as confident as ever while answering his question and - fuck he couldn’t help the blood rushing to his dick as you confidently answered him. You were so clever, so confident and he couldn’t help but like that about you.

Like.

There it was, the word again and he swallows it down like his pride as he continues on with his lecture, allowing you and Tim to return to your discussion.

But he mulls over the word again when he sits all alone in the lecture hall eating his lunch because you and Tim were “going to grab something together”.

As much as Price hated to admit it, he did miss your presence at lunch. Sure you’d chatter his ear off and leave traces of your lunch all over the desk but Price enjoyed the company.

He enjoyed the fact that someone took interest in his lecture- in him after so many years.

He enjoyed having discussions with you even though you’d question everything he said.

And he enjoyed your company at lunch no matter what else he may say.

Weeks passed without the two of you interacting much.

It was better off this way, Price thinks to himself.

Fantasies, that all it was anyway, repeats it so much to himself so that the next time he sees you sitting in one of the extra chairs, legs propped on his desk and eating away at some poor excuse of lunch you made, he thinks that’s a fantasy as well.

He doesn’t ask about Tim and you don’t say anything so Price proceeds to work through the stack of assignments that had been piling up on his desk while silently allowing himself to enjoy this moment.

But soon enough reality hits him in the face or maybe it was when you randomly mentioned Tim that the damn burst inside of him and the words came flowing out of him.

“You should ask the lad out”

“Huh?” You say, seemingly confused by his choice of words since you’d been complaining about morning lectures just seconds before this.

“Tommy?” He tries again, pushing away from his desk, arms now folded over his chest.

You look at him in confusion before it clicks “Tim”

He nods his head, feeling slight annoyance at hearing the name but tries to not let it show on his face. “You should ask him out”.

“Why do you say that?”

“You seem to like him” Price shrugs, seemingly much less confident as he busies himself with cleaning off the stray crumbs you left on his desk.

“Yeah?” Price doesn’t even notice the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Come on kid I’m old but I’m that not old. It’s obvious that you like him.” He says before dumping the pile of crumbs into the trash can.

“Never said you were,” you say completely ignore the latter statement as you smile at him.

For a second Price freezes in place, heat creeping up his face before he clears his throat and looks away. “Either way you should ask him out,”

“I don’t like him” you say with a shrug, still smiling at the older man.

Price scoffs at that.

“You do an awful job at lying, flirting too,”

“Why do you say so?” You say with a small smile on your face neither denying or confirming his suspicions which leaves him feeling tensed

“Well to start off, you’re spending your free time with some old man when you could be with Tom-Tim right now,”

“What if I want to do that though?”

He only scoffs in response, “you don’t want that,”

“I do, though,” you say, sounding firm as ever and for one second it sounds like you’re talking about something else, something he’s been trying to deny for the past months and the implication leaves him speechless and frozen in place, trying to process what you’d just said.

“Professor Price?”

#call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #dom male reader #top male reader #bottom male character #sub male character

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ghostarii · 13 days

Text

ECSTASY, FULL OF FREEDOM, PIERRO & CHILDE

ʚɞ unbound in the throes of ecstasy; free from strenuous morality and worldly tethers, you are where you belong. he knows your heart is strung on another, but he also knows that he can’t please you the way he can.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, stepcest, AGE GAP!!!, stepdad!pierro, ft. boyfriend!childe, ddlg themes, daddy kink, spit, possessive!pierro, infidelity, fingering, exhibitionism, face - fucking, dacryphilia, breeding, dry humping, manipulation, corruption kink, finger - sucking, cum eating / swallowing, spanking, praise, degradation, pet names, orgasm ruining / control, just.. just icky pierro, minors & dc antis do not interact.

NOTE ݈݇- ummmm 😅😅😅 welcum back me i guess ! ! !this is prob the most debauched thing ive ever written so nice comments n reblogs would be happily appreciated :3 this went a totally different way than i planned toward the end n it got pretty rushed but i hope u guys like it anyway

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 10.2k

BURNING, WHITE, HEAT. A surge of hellfire courses through your veins and it takes every semblance of power in you to not explode. Your thighs are tightly clenched, attempting to crush his ministrations but dexterous fingers are lengthy enough to continuously tease you. A featherlight brushing against your folds is enough to make you shiver against the warmth. You damn near slam your elbow on top of the table and bash your forehead against your palm, hiding the pleasure on your face as best as you can.

Pierro thinks you must figure him as a fool. He must be stupid to you—a blind idiot—if you think you can get away with this. He stifles down a grunt of disbelief with a sip of his water, deciding to no longer pay attention to the slight quakes of your body.

His eyes are instead fixed on the source of your tremors: the smug redhead who thinks he’s so clever. His left arm lightly jitters behind the table and if he were an idiot, Pierro might have ignored it. He might have ignored how close you two got. He might have even ignored the moans you quietly let slip. But he is no idiot. He is perceptive and right now, he is very angry.

He tries to hide it, to keep the daggers he stares at bay but his patience is thinning by the minute. Ignorance cannot be bliss when it is infiltrated—Pierro tries to turn a blind eye to your deeds but he is not allowed to. When the quiet of the upscale restaurant meets its lowest and your conversation has briefly halted for the allowance of enjoying your meal, his ears can pick up the leaking, sticky path your boyfriend’s fingers take. The sudden hitch in your breath and the calm slosh, slosh from between your legs is a dead giveaway and he can't help but look. He can't help but chew the inside of his cheek instead of his steak and grunt. Anything but, and he might blow the lid off his pristine demeanor.

Those eyes are sharp and you narrowly avoid their threat. You keep your eyes straight and only rarely do you spend a glance at Ajax. He finds pleasure in the way you tighten around his fingers when he presses that spot, right when your mother inquires about another insignificant detail about his life. He likes how you scratch the denim of his pants instead of the table, wordlessly begging him to stop as he brings you closer and closer—

It feels too good; the edging, the twirling, the danger—it births a reward too precious to sacrifice and that's why you don't stop him. You soil your panties and make a fool of yourself, making your mother pause the conversation one too many times to clarify your well-being. It’d be humiliating if it didn't feel so good.

With your thighs tightly clasped around his wrist and your heartbeat pounding through your clit, your orgasm just teeters at the edge, stray streams leaking to be caught on Ajax’s hand. He sends you a look of faux concern and you can just barely fight the urge to bare two rows of teeth at him menacingly.

Pierro, who has utterly capped his limit on how much of this shit he can take, opens his mouth to spew a question that may just humiliate you if you don't play your cards right. He’s a jest—his fun derives from the toil of others and you are his perfect target right now. Serves you right.

The words are quickly snatched from his mouth to his wife’s as soon as the words form on his tongue. A look of disdain is fought off as she tenderly asks you for the nth time, “Are you sure you’re feeling well, sweetie?”

You can lie to her with no problem. To him is where the difficulty arises and this moment, where your eyes have glossed and your body has folded, he could have blown up your whole spot. Ajax plays off the hand between your legs as though it’s on your stomach, using his right hand to gently rest against your shoulder and slowly pull you up.

She’s the idiot Ajax thinks Pierro is. The kind, not-all-there, and not wholly caring idiot who lets dirt build right under her nose—it’s no surprise that she lets you off with that pitiful “I’m okay…just some bad cramping,”.

“I’m sorry,” you breathlessly apologize, presumably coming down from your high. “I should…I think we should cut this short. I’m honestly not feeling too well…”

“Are you sure? You don't..wanna finish..?” Ajax asks you. The smile he hides peeks out behind his feigned frown and the innuendo immediately dawns on you.

Flustered and more embarrassed than you thought you would have been, you lock in your eyes a pitiful stare of Enough. As if that would stop his torment.

His hand slides from between your legs and rests against your thigh, sticky, wet fingertips tapping against your thigh…taunting you. Questioning you.

Your mother patiently awaits your answer as her eyes swivel around in search of a waiter while Pierro continues his glaring assault. There's a narrowing of his eyes that he continuously enacts, as if to warn you, to beg you to try it if you dare. Disobeying him is a thing you've never done but this sly motherfucker beside you has pushed you to try your luck.

“I mean…I do want to—but, I don't think I can. At least, not here, not right now…” you slide your bottom lip between your teeth gingerly, pleading eyes boring into Ajax’s. A look that’s commonly reserved for Pierro, and for the first time, angers him to see it.

Ajax fights back his grin but fails desperately. He nods, turning to face your mother and stepfather. “Well, we should get the princess home and taken care of, shouldn't we?”

Your mother takes the time to gush, drawing out an amused awwww at the pair of you, wrapping around her husband's arm and leaning against it. “How sweet! Isn't he sweet, Pi?”

Staring directly at you, with nothing but a blatant grimace, Pierro nods. “Very sweet.”

Timidly, you avoid his gaze. It does you no favor, either way.

She continues her rambling and all of it goes in one ear and out of the other. Pierro cannot stop staring. Ajax whispering in your ear and the grip you have on his shirt. The glisten that’s wiped off his fingers and thrown haphazardly atop his meal scraps. The devious, wide smile that hasn't been shaken this entire encounter…

Pierro has never wanted to slap someone more. Even more so, he’s never been this angry with you.

“You got the bill, right, hon?” Your mom asks him, the first one of her sentences to penetrate his thoughts.

You and Ajax are standing beside the table now, his hand comfortably resting low on your hip and your body slotted against his. From where he sits, Pierro can smell you. The familiar, decadent sweetness wasted against your thighs calling out to his memory and begging the perversion to rise from the dark recesses and take you against the table— and it only gets worse when he raises his sight to look at you, only to be able to catch the slightest glimpse of your soaked panties pushed to the side.

He looks you in the eyes, a look you hate to see awaiting you when you return the favor.

Pierro nods, turning to your mother with an almost pained smile. “Of course.”

Back to the two of you, gaze sharpened and narrowed, he continues, “You two should go on ahead.”

Ajax is quick to take the dismissal with a cheery grin. One that—more than anything else tonight—pisses Pierro off. “Ah, thanks, Mr. A! Here,” he takes a minute to fish his wallet out of his pocket, “For our part and the tip,”

To you, his attention turns. “Are you ready to go?”

You say nothing but nod instead. Your eyes can't help but surf to your stepdad and you almost offer him a look of pity—a gleam of sorry in your eyes. He spares you not a single look, and with Ajax’s upbeat parting words, the two of you slip away hand-in-hand.

Your mother’s smile is proud. It’s proud, and certain, and genuine, and it makes Pierro angry. Right now, he could expose you to your mother and make everything worse.

“I like him, hon. For her, especially…I’d say it’s perfect but I don't wanna jinx it,” your mother giggles. Pierro’s eye twitches. It takes everything in him to relax because, truly, Ajax has done nothing wrong.

He might be nothing short of perfect and possibly the best thing that could ever happen to you and yet, Pierro can't find it in himself to be happy. That anger is a gnarled form of envy that paints him green. And it’s by the grace of God that nobody but the only one who matters can see that fervent shade on his skin.

He keeps up the charade with your mother with another strained smile. “Yeah, good for her.” He sounds less than enthused but for her sake, she does not pry.

Pierro wants to hate Ajax. It makes it so much harder that he cannot.

━━━━━━

Pierro’s eyes are a beautiful shade of blue. A crystalline gleam—meant to light up under the sky and shimmer like a star of hope. Looking into his eyes gives a cool mystique that urges you to get lost in them. Oftentimes, you do, finding that at the end, awaits you is a warmth far too comforting.

It’s different when those eyes glare back at you. Boring into your very being with a scrutinizing narrowing over every little mistake. The dimness of the house intensifies their stare to the point that you can feel them before you see them.

Your breathing is almost shallow as you trek up the stairs and your eyes are wide and shifty. Your heartbeat has turned irregular and is skipping beats—the mere uncertainty he imposes working overtime in unnerving you. Pierro is not nice when things don't go his way. Even worse, he’s unpredictable. Mostly, he’s vile.

What awaits you is only a mystery that you wish to leave boxed.

Approaching him at the top of the stairs, you slide your hand into his gingerly, hoping that the kindness will grant you some leniency. “I’m sorry I’m late..” you gulp. “I— We— Ajax had stopped to—”

With your hand in his, Pierro has power over your autonomy. He pulls you into him, using his left hand to slot against your waist and hold you against him. Everything he does is in complete silence and it unsettles you.

His eyes rake over you time and time again in the same span of seconds. Your face, near fearful and apologetic, to your upper body, stiff and unsure, to your lower half, turned in on itself and now, of all times, prioritizing modesty. Now, you seem to have an ounce of shame and Pierro can't call it anything but pitiful.

He lets a beat of silence pass with you in his arms. “You’ve disappointed me.”

You part your lips in a silent gasp, wholly surprised that he hasn't tossed you around yet. To his statement, you respond with a light clutch of his button-up — and to that, Pierro huffs. He’s not hearing your crocodile tears and unenthused excuses so you can save it.

“I’m upset that you let that happen. You let him touch you like that in front of me…” His fingers tickle up your back and you instinctively press into him more. A frown stretches over your face - mostly out of concern for where this is leading. Partially because his words genuinely do hold weight.

Raising your head to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, Daddy,” leaves your mouth incredibly timidly.

His eyes are softer when meeting yours. It almost seems as though he’s immediately forgiven you and in the wake of that thought, you feel better. You feel like leaning into him further is no longer a gesture of fear but comfort. So you lean impossibly closer, nuzzling your head against his chest comfortably. His feigned sense of security has you under his palm like an idiot — a blind fool in the lion’s den.

“Did you like it? Did it feel good…better?” He purrs, lips moving against your head as he kisses you. That's enough to muffle his words but you hear him clearly. The tenderness he exudes works to juxtapose against his instigating words.

“Well…”

“Well?” He catches your trail. He tightens his arms around your body and traps you against him.

It’s almost oppressive; you’d say so if it wasn't for the familiarity it brings. But it contrasts with the grit in his tone — a sharpened edge prodding at you menacingly, just waiting for you to say the wrong thing to impale you.

With a gulp too audible coming from you, you shrug warily. As much as you want to, you can't lie to him. “It wasn't better…but it wasn't bad…”

Humorous. What a humorous attempt at trying to not anger him further; Pierro has to stifle a laugh at your expense but you can feel the humility.

“Did you cum?” He asks straightforwardly. His left hand trickles down your back and brushes against your waist. His fingers brush the hem of your skirt out of the way and slide to grope your ass, using one finger to slip between your thighs and collect the wetness. At that, he notes the lack of underwear. You, so daring, so racy, let that asshole take your panties as a souvenir. His voice grows deeper—angrier—as he inquires further. “Did you cry his name? Maybe you called him baby. Maybe daddy—”

“No!” You interject, a bit too loudly, at that. “No—I didn't. I would never.” Because you’re my daddy—you choose to omit that part.

He only laughs. Somewhat menacingly, but brightened when your eyes catch his grin. “Do you want me to praise you for that?”

“Do you think you deserve that?” There’s no escaping his questioning; you're trapped. He knows you hate being talked down to—you hate the confrontation, the disappointment, the dissatisfaction with you and he does it on purpose. He catches the way you avoid looking at him and blink rapidly, airing away the mist that comes to paint your eyes.

It takes you a moment to shake your head no, your entire face dropping at the action. You were wrong, you were bad, and now he won't be nice to you. He's going to use you, he's going to fuck you up and make you wish you'd denied Ajax altogether.

“I’m glad you know that.” He says, condescendingly. “I’m going to show you what you deserve.”

With his gruff admission, the hand on your ass grips tighter and you gasp silently. When your eyes meet once more, he sends you a look that you know all too well: one you can't say no to, and one you’ve grown to not ever want to say no to.

Your toes are bent as you push yourself up to meet his face, arms naturally sliding up and around his broad shoulders.

Lips closer than they've been in weeks and eyes locked more seriously than this entire night, you two fall into a pit of risk, leaning closer and closer. You try to lean in and he only offers you a ghostly peck. Breaths fanning each other and lips gingerly caressing the other, Pierro utters out one last request: “Say you deserve it.”

He controls your body spiritually — a carnal desire is unleashed within you that makes you stupidly want him, pressing your lips against his softly, wantonly, “I deserve it.”

It’s obvious that you give into him. Stumbling into that bed of forbidden desire, tangling in the sheets of lust.

Pierro wastes no time in pulling you into your bedroom, covering your tracks with the hallway light flickered off and your door locked. He’s overzealous and nearly rips your clothes off of you, every touch housing a raging, impassioned fire.

You let it happen — letting him guide your way and taking control. Your mouths slot and move alongside one another disgustingly perfectly and if it didn't feel so fucking right, you’d grimace and scream your head off. Instead, you take him down with you, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him on top of you, needing him more than you should.

The world becomes a mere distant memory as he licks into your mouth, finding your tongue to dance with and suck on. Your legs stretched around his body allows him to bunch your skirt up, grinding his clothed hard-on against your bare cunt. Kisses are subsequently broken by squeaky moans and you, a puddle under his touch, can do nothing but that—leaning your head back when the friction overcomes you and kissing back is no longer a priority.

Sloppy, wet kisses trail from your mouth to your cheek, then to your ear, then down your neck, then to your collarbone. Your somewhat modest neckline is then pushed out of his way, allowing him to lay a barrage of kisses against your skin.

No words are exchanged verbally but in every action they’re screamed. Pierro wants to lay claim on you, to purify your body after being defiled by the redheaded miscreant you call a boyfriend. You went out of his sight and returned with a pest on your hip and nothing besides anger overcame him. In all its jagged forms: envy, bitterness, resentment, desire—Pierro had been waiting to take you down again, to remind you who you truly belong to.

He sucks and nips fervently at the skin until you whimper and wince and unknowingly confirm the existence of a mark there. An uneven, ugly blotch to claim you as his.

This is repeated across the expanse of your neck and chest, an uneven pattern drawn in his wake. When he pulls off of you, your face is knitted in shocked pleasure and your body chases him: hips bucking toward the air in desperate search. He hangs over you, using one hand to grab your cheeks and squish them up. You're so fucking cute, he could chew you up—among other things—but right now, he coos menacingly at you. “Cute.”

When he fully removes himself from you, sitting beside you, you know what awaits you. When the clattering of his belt hits your ears, you know what you need to do.

What you need to do is show your daddy his place in your world; so, begrudgingly, you sweep yourself up onto your knees.

His hand comes to the back of your head to softly cradle you and you lean into it, fluttering your lashes at him in hopes of receiving his leniency. He, however, is a punisher, and your knife in his back won’t be forgiven so easily.

“You’re so lucky I even touched you,” he grits. His thumb strokes your cheek and creates this sense of security. It’d be calming if you didn't know him. “Am I not enough for you anymore?”

“You are,” you pout. “It’s just—I like Ajax, too. I’m confused…”

He sits up slightly, capturing your glossy gaze in his. “Do you like Ajax or love me?”

His eyes flicker to your clutched thighs and you cower slightly, feeling the regret caving in your chest. The pout you sport curves wider and Pierro almost smiles at how easy it is to dig at you.

You open your mouth to answer but he shushes you, shaking his head no. The hand on your cheek runs to your backside and palms your ass, slapping the flesh with intensity. The sound rings off of the walls and the impact resounds in your body, rippling through with an itching sting left in its wake. You whimper and look up at him, watery eyes meeting a merciless crystal blue. Tenderly rubbing the spot, he continues, “Show me.”

You do what you're told and that's what Pierro cherishes about you. That's what makes him red in anger at the pure idea of you showing this to anyone else—being this for anyone else.

Ajax doesn't deserve a sweet girl like you. He can't take care of a sweet girl like you.

And you can't take care of a man the way you take care of Pierro. He won't allow it.

You manage to pull his cock from behind the waistband of his boxers. He’s pulsing furiously in your palm and the weight he carries makes how feverishly he’s been needing you painfully apparent. He leaks a creamy stream of pre and it awaits your attention. Just the light hold you keep on his shaft elicits a groan from the man and his hips involuntarily buck upward, wordlessly signaling his need for you.

The slightly salty bead swims onto your tongue as you kitten lick the tip, gingerly beginning to stroke half circles around his cock.

He clears his throat, slamming his palm against your cheek again, “Don’t tease, baby. Take it in.”

You oblige his request and slide him onto your tongue. You hollow your cheeks and grimace as you try to fit as much of him into your mouth. Slobber dribbles out of your mouth and cascades down his length, creating a moat above the hand you keep tight around his base.

The longer you keep him there, the harsher your gags get — you sputter around his girth before pulling up for air, gasping in a dramatic heap of air. He chuckles at you and uses his thumb to wipe away a string of spit on your cheek.

“You can do better than that,” he coos. “Go deeper.”

Again, you pull your lips as wide as they can stretch around him. You try to swing your tongue around his girth as skillfully as you can accomplish, swiping at the prominent vein that beats for you.

He groans out a curse, throwing his head back while simultaneously gripping the back of your head. “Deeper,” he growls.

You try to slink deeper, but he presses at your reflex, a messy series of gags slopping around his dick. Still, you persevere: unfolding your lips to wrap around his girth and suck harshly.

“Shit,” he drawls, pushing your head down further. “Just like that; you’re so fucking good for Daddy.”

Your hands move to his thighs and attempt to claw at them, but you're left gripping his slacks. Your mouth quickly becomes tired as you try, and the light bob you facilitate grows weak. Subsequently, Pierro takes control: placing both hands on your head and pushing you down.

You swallow around him but it doesn't subdue the echo of your gagging. He bottoms out in your mouth and you can do nothing but sputter and choke, letting a lake of slobber spill down his length.

It becomes messy extremely fast with Pierro on the reigns. He thrusts into your mouth in tandem with pulling your head down, creating a nasty rhythm that you can only be a variable to.

“That’s it, princess,” he praises breathily. The smile you try to make goes unnoticed, but the swarm in your stomach doesn't.

He’s relentless and desperate, only offering reprieve when your eyes grow foggy and your breathing shallow. His hips stutter and his balls throb—Pierro is on the brink of pleasure that no amount of imagination can give him. Your mouth is a warm piece of heaven that warms and leaks all over him, soiling his pants in a mixture of spit bubbles and precum. It’s nasty, but it’s your nasty: something only you can do for him. He has you in the palm of his hand, doing exactly what he wants, being exactly who he wants you to be, and he couldn't ask for you to be more perfect. His palm cracks down again on your ass, almost as a sign of commemoration.

Gray brows are furrowed and knitted and the struggle to keep his eyes trained on you is real. Every time the back of your throat squeezes around his cock head he chokes on a guttural moan, your praises gliding off his tongue like butter. The arrangement is near perfect and it’s doing its weight in placing pleasure upon the man. He’s at pleasure’s mercy and finds himself in the pits of thought, stumbling upon the feeling of love. Pierro has found true escape in you and everything you can do for him and that is why he can't let you go.

He can't let you go—not when you whine around his dick and send him the most perfect vibrations, pushing his orgasm over the edge.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses. He holds your head tightly in place, not allowing you a bit of space to move as he cums. “Take it all…yeah—”

A series of hushed, deep, groans escape from his mouth as thick splashes of cum spill into your mouth. The spurts pool on your tongue and the fullness of your mouth becomes too much to bear. Your warning slaps on his thighs let him know to let you come up, and with your cheeks bubbled to hold his release, you breathe your first breath of cool air.

He chuckles at your expression, holding out his hand for you to lean into once again. “Open up.”

You take a moment to swallow before brandishing your tongue to him. He grins proudly, glaring at you with a soft expression. You wrap your hands around his arm, kissing the heel of his palm before nuzzling your cheek against it again. Fluttery eyelashes are passed at him as you gingerly inquire, “Did I do good, Daddy?”

“Great, baby.” He confirms, sitting up. “I knew my girl could do it. You always can, always so good for me.”

The praises go straight to your core and reawaken the unfinished business he left you with. He knows what to say to make you melt and unfortunately, you do. Melting in his palm makes you susceptible to anything he says. It's only a given that when he asks you again, “You’re going to be my girl forever, right?” you answer immediately with a strong nod.

At that, his confident grin grows and he leans forward, pulling you into a kiss.

The taste of his cum is prominent on your tongue and he sucks the flavor off, gathering it in his mouth before distributing it back into yours. It's nasty and he repeats it until your head is hazy and you're chasing his lips. His hand around your neck is able to hold you up just centimeters away from his lips.

“Don’t forget who you belong to.”

━━━━━━

Yellow is your color.

Pierro thinks the color compliments you beautifully—like you were meant to bask under a golden kiss of sun. He likes the way it snugs in your curves, unable to hold back your supple skin with its thin tethers. It’s too much for the world to see — a sight supposedly for Pierro’s eyes only — but you trot around without a care in your bubbly head. That, in itself, does not bother him; Ajax on the other side of the door, does.

Ajax catching you in his arms bothers Pierro. The man can't help but stare from his viewpoint, following Ajax’s wandering hands from the small of your back to the curve of your ass. He unabashedly palms the skin and you only giggle, smothering his face in welcome kisses and strawberry lipgloss.

When your feet are back on the ground, you're nuzzling against him as if you’re scared of detaching from him, and he wears that same coy grin as always, wrapping an arm around your body as you begin to lead him toward the backyard. You speak indistinctly and Pierro’s envious glare seems to have no effect on you. Ajax senses it, however; and as though he is throwing it in Pierro’s face, he pulls you closer as his free arm raises to wave at your stepfather: “Hey, Mr. A!” Leaves his mouth cheerfully.

The grimace Pierro wears is only half-stifled and he doesn't care to fix his face. He nods at the young man, “Hello to you too, Ajax.”

You avoid his gaze skillfully but that look of guilt is not missed. That only irritates Pierro further: his thick eyebrows furrow and his lips waver downwards. If you know it's bad, why do you keep doing this?

It must be a beckoning of his attention—and if that’s the case, you have it wholly in the palms of your hands.

Again, you speak hushedly to your boy toy. Pierro’s eyes hone in on the movement of your lips: so soft, so tender, so kind as they murmur against Ajax’s ear. Whatever you say is undetermined by Pierro — but judging from the stiffly excited mannerisms Ajax thereafter enacts, he can only imagine.

“We were going to head out to the pool…” Finally, you address him.

Confidence is strongly prominent in your voice despite your trailing off. Compared to the soft, undefiant tone you usually direct toward your daddy, your strength is all-telling: Ajax has built up an over-confident backbone in you. Not so luckily for you, Pierro has no qualms about breaking it down.

So, instead of shooting his ire through glaring daggers, Pierro smirks. He smirks and shrugs with one shoulder, following the action by gulping down the final swig of his midday pick-me-up. “Alright then,”

“Have fun.” The words are supposed to be encouraging but, if anything, they're daunting.

The air gets tense, noticeably so. Ajax awkwardly clears his throat and the intense staring match you and Pierro hold is severed. Your eyes shift to the ginger and you force a convincing grin to pull at your lips. “Let's go.”

Ajax lets you lead the way, purposely avoiding looking at Pierro. In your thirty-second trek to the backyard door, his gaze only intensifies. Holes are burned into your back and you shoot straight up when his voice calls out to you again. You act as though you're in a horror movie: slowly turning your head over your shoulder for fear of what awaits your back end.

“The guests’ll be arriving soon,” he informs. “Your mother’s going to be back and finish setting up out there.”

His information seems to be his acknowledgment of your transgressions. You plan to defile his claim on you in the very home he takes you down in—he’ll be damned if you cross that line.

You’re playing a dangerous game with no incentive for you. As he departs, stalking away upstairs to get a clear view of your actions from his office, the thought that maybe, just maybe, his frustration is your incentive, brings a smile to his face.

That thought dawns the idea on him that he has created an insatiable, debauched monster, and it's in his hands to tame her.

To you, you don't know what you're doing.

You like Ajax. You like the way he treats you, the way he talks to you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you—you’re chasing his lips desperately as he pins you against the wall of the pool, wanting to take him under the water and drown with him. Maybe then, that icky turmoil brewing in your stomach would subside.

You like Ajax; you want him. But you need Pierro. Even as your boyfriend kisses you feverishly, your eyes are wide and glued to the second-story window that you know Pierro is watching you out of.

He gives you something that you hate to require. Those big, buff arms wrap around you, and those chapped, experienced lips speak words of comfort to you that all your life, you've only ever wanted. Pierro promises to love you forever, be there for you forever, and protect you forever — he promises to be the sole male constant in your life: the only man you’ll ever need. You're inclined to believe him because he’s made everything you've ever wanted come true. But—Ajax; those things can come from him, too.

His kisses are softer than Pierro’s but just as impassioned—if not more. He’s receptive to your impatience, licking his way into your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours messily. Moaning into your mouth to let you know that the tugs on his hair feel good, gripping onto your waist to grind your clothed cunt against his knee, pulling apart and cracking a smile at the connected string of spit that hangs from your puffy lips, telling you in a hushed whisper “I missed you,” to butter you up and melt you in his palms. Ajax is nicer with how he treats you. He kisses down your neck to punctuate his sentence. His kisses halt their trail at the apex of your collarbone, leaving his eyes to peer up at you wantonly.

“I missed you too,” you breathe out. You did miss him and his delicacy. Your eyes flash up to the window and you feel relief at the unmoved curtains — returning your gaze to your boyfriend and smiling at him. Inviting Ajax to your parents’ pool party was your way of convincing yourself. What happened between you and Pierro can be replicated with someone who you can be with and someone who can be with you.

What you want is that trophy love: that pedestal in someone's heart for every envious eye to watch you atop of. You want to be loved loudly and proudly, and Ajax can do that and so much more, for you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and he leans into your touch, craning leftward. He looks at you with wide, beating hearts in his eyes, and you bite your lip to hold back a smile. “I think we have a few minutes alone…”

Those hearts turn into a mischievous sparkle, “I can work with that.”

Quickly, he’s reconnecting your lips as his right hand wanders from your waist to beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms. You gasp into your kiss as his middle finger surfs through your folds, immediately prodding at your entrance.

“Don’t tease,” you whisper, briefly looking over his shoulder. You catch a glimpse of movement behind the curtains and it halts your breath. “We don't have time,”

He laughs against your face, smooching from your lips to across your cheek and to your ear. He nips the lobe just as he pushes the tip of his finger in and you move your hold onto his shoulders, gripping tightly. His tongue flicks gently at your ear as his finger slowly inches in, and with its slender length, beats of quiet breathing and airflow pass before he’s knuckle deep. “You wouldn't mind getting caught,”

The digit is swiveled around before he presses the rough pad of his finger against your gummy sweet spot. You hold in a moan by biting your bottom lip but the sound leaks out in weakened whines. “You never have before.”

Anyone could see what you're doing and that thought births nothing but excitement coursing through your veins. Your pleasured scowl quickly stretches into a grin— and Ajax catches it, kissing your chin.

Soon, your hole is accommodating the entrance of his ring finger. The digits are thereafter scissored inside of your pussy and the water around the two of you ripples furiously. Your boyfriend has never been particular about being discreet and this occasion is no different—if anything, he’s showing off. At least, Pierro seems to think so.

Pleasure blinds your eyes so the man standing in the window is missed by you. Every bit of your awareness is being fingered out of you; Ajax’s agile fingers dancing around in your hole seemingly spooning out your senses. Nothing, save for the hot source of ecstasy pooling in your core, matters to you. You're grinding down on his fingers, whining out wantonly as low as you can but it's in vain—your sweet, pleasured hymns can be picked out by Pierro’s ears.

It irritates him but he does not stop watching. He can't—not when you're about to cum and you're gripping so tightly on Ajax. You're leaning over the edge of the pool and scratching your back against the rough gravel with desperate abandon. The movement of your lips is unidentifiable from his distance, but knowing you, you're probably pitifully begging for him to make you cum.

Ajax has the liberty of controlling your pleasure and he does so amateurly. When you plead once again, babbling out his name, Ajax obliges. He says to you, unheard by Pierro, “I’ve got you, baby. Cum on my fingers.”

His fingers curl and roll against your spot and your moans are ringing out unabashedly. If your mother or the guests were to arrive and stroll up your driveway, there’s no doubt they wouldn't be able to hear your laments over the bushes. Carelessly and blissfully, you sing your boyfriend’s praises as he presses you toward your climax, wriggling his fingers inside of your tightened hole through your orgasm.

Pierro watches you shake and jump under his touch and his eye twitches. Here you are, parading your freedom in front of him again. He’d turn you out and worse in that pool if it wasn't for your mother. She is his way to get to you and if she were to find out how he defiles her daughter in ways he doesn't dare do to her, he’d be deprived of his vice.

He doesn't notice the white knuckle grip he keeps on the window sill until his fingers begin to ache. Pierro is envious of a red-haired prick half his age and size and he couldn't be more embarrassed. It would be you—only you—to make these juvenile feelings rise so fervently within him.

The way Pierro feels for you is skewed and indecent and so, so raw. It’s unexplainable in simple words and he doesn't dare waste his breath on telling you sugary things to make you stay. He claims you, bares all of his imperfections to you as you do him, and anchors you to the bottom of his endless pit of debauchery alongside him. Yet, you can still swim out of his grasp and into the slimy hands of another like-minded, perverse predator and that won't do.

His body is moving before he can scramble up an excuse to intrude on the two of you. Unaware of his appearance, you're slipping your hand into Ajax’s swim trunks, passing your thumb over his slit featherlightly.

He sighs out shakily, grabbing your forearm. “We shouldn't start something we can't finish.”

You, full of confidence and arousal, flash your signature, convincing doe eyes up at him. “We should’ve thought about that earlier then.” You rebut, leaning in to kiss him just as you begin to pump his length.

Pool water is terrible lube but the softness of your hand makes up for it: Ajax is moaning into your kiss and lazily bucking into your hand. God, everything is so perfect right now. The warm sun, the cool water, the sweet breeze, the—

“You two already got in?!” Suddenly, the back door is sliding open and your mother steps out, hauling two large shopping bags in each hand. You and Ajax jump apart, trying your best to turn around and meet her inconspicuously.

She seems to not notice, but Pierro, who comes out after her, has that knowing look that when it greets you, all nervousness centers itself in your bones. Your mother had beaten him to the back door by a mere second. Had it gone his way, the two of you would be pissing yourselves shamefully.

Ajax picks up the slack of maintaining your cover: picking his feet up off the pool floor and kicking off the wall, swimming toward your mother. “Yeah, sorry, Mrs. A!” He apologizes, hoisting himself out of the pool to assist her. “We just wanted to test the water,”

He nods at you to come join and you quickly follow the notion, hopping out of the pool and walking around to where they stand. Your mother pulls floaties and noodles and boxes of miscellaneous decorations out of the bags, setting them down on the ground and table. With her gaze focused downward, you and Ajax are able to share looks over her back: his eyes sending you an assured glare and wink and yours sending back worried gleams.

“We’re good,” he mouths, and before you can give him a response, your mother stands up.

“How was it? It’s not too cold, is it?”

This time you answer her. “No; it was perfect.” You say, giving Ajax a look that tells him your words were meant for him.

Unbeknownst to your games, your mother cheers. “Great—I’m gonna freshen up and get changed. Can you…” she trails off and motions her hands around the abundance of new items. You catch her meaning and confirm her request with a nod.

As quickly as she appeared, she walked off and back into the house. Her missing frame gives Ajax the space to step closer to you, inching his hands around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

It's a gesture that, in all of its inherent sweetness, carries a suggestiveness that has you giggly and ticklish. You're unable to focus on the task in front of you and are instead fighting off the needy kisses from your boyfriend.

“Stop…” you laugh, your voice sounding wholly unconvincing.

He ignores your request, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and kissing the skin tenderly. “I can’t stop,” he says, muffled. “You got me started—”

He squeezes you tighter and deepens the kiss on your neck. His tongue flicks and flattens against the skin and your smile flattens as you sigh out, instantly melting into him. Ajax knows just how to weaken you, a power he shares with Pierro, and you are too weak to fight it. Those kisses are targeted at the perfect spot that fogs your brain and withers your standing. Your mouth wavers as he marks a hickey on your skin, and the smallest, weakest moans tumble out of your mouth.

“Ajax…” you whisper warningly, “We can't.”

“We can.” He argues, moving from your neck to behind your ear. He knows just how to tempt you and just as susceptible as you are, you fall for it. “Where’s your room?”

You go to answer—but the sight of him in your peripheral has your mouth drying up.

Pierro finally takes his first step outside and the sight he beholds is sickening. His left cheek is balled around his tongue and his eyes are as critical as ever. You have to pat Ajax’s thigh to alert him and he’s pulling off of you, his pale complexion flushing a blazing red. “M-Mr. A! Uh—”

Uninterested in his haphazard excuse, Pierro cuts him off. “Your mother is asking for you.” Eyes boring into you elicit every bit of shame to course through you in hot embarrassment.

Without another word shared, you scurry off into the house, passing Pierro with only a brief brush of your skin. You can feel the irritation radiating off of him and you shudder under that realization.

You've made a mistake. A very, very big mistake.

━━━━━━

All you want is to be with Ajax. Wrapped in his muscular arms, under the crisp sun and the chill breeze—sipping on homemade lemonade and biting into flaky club sandwiches—it is all so perfect, so right, for you. With him, nothing goes wrong—and yet, nothing ever goes right.

Pierro never seems to lag too far behind the two of you. After assisting your mother in picking which sundress to slip into, returning to blissful, summer day peace with your boyfriend proved difficult.

You find him beside the grill with Pierro, awkwardly chatting it up with his hard-on painfully raging against the inside of his blue swim trunks. And just as you appear to pull him away, Pierro magically fishes up a task for him to do.

“You can't go with him,” he says. “The kids are getting antsy. Why don't you bring out some popsicles?”

And so you do. Returning with a bag of popsicles and handing them out to the numerous children running around your backyard. And when you finish, Ajax returns, huffing out deep breaths and dripping sweat. Luckily enough, one cherry popsicle was left over.

You’d finally managed to get Pierro off your back—your mother and her girlfriends required his immediate attention in the kitchen and drew him away from the backyard. So you and your lover are offered a moment of reprieve.

You straddle his lap, peeling the plastic off of the popsicle and tapping the treat against his lips. He’s receptive and takes the popsicle in, collecting the flavor on his tongue. You watch him intently, locking eyes with him and keeping that contact as you pull it away, leaning in to catch the taste of his mouth.

The cherry flavor is abundant and even sweeter on his tongue. Keeping it PG is out of the question when you're sucking on his tongue so feverishly—no longer chasing that cherry taste but instead him. You need him bad and judging from the twitching in his cock, he needs you just as bad.

“Baby,” he grunts, using one hand to cup the small of your back and the other to bring the popsicle back to his mouth. He tries to halt the subtle gyrating of your hips but you are determined to slot his shaft between your folds through your layers of swimwear. “It's too risky out here. Let’s go to your room.”

You laugh, beating him to it and briefly wrapping your lips around the top. “I never thought I’d hear you say it's too risky,”

“But, okay,” you sigh out, pausing your ministrations and sitting flat on his lap. “Let's go, then.”

Eager as could be, the two of you gather your things off the lounge chair and race to the inside of the house.

Successfully, Pierro’s attention is missed, and you make it up to your bedroom. Once the door is closed, you're jumping onto the bed with abandon and begin making out feverishly. Hours of built-up tension come crashing down upon you as he pins you down, wedging between your legs and rutting desperately against your pussy.

“Ah,” you moan out, arching up into him. His head is buried in the cavern of your chest, suckling and smooching along the valley. Your skin is supple and easy to latch onto—he’s losing himself in your scent and softness and taste. You pull at his hair, jerking your hips upward for more. “Please, ‘Jax; give it to me—”

Unbeknownst to you, Pierro is on the prowl. Hours have passed like minutes and soon the sky has melted into a rosy yellow and the guests have slowly begun to peel out.

His eyes search for the pair of you and upon coming up empty, his attitude is tweaked.

“Honey?” He calls out to his wife. As he returns to the inside of the house—sparing brief dismissals to the parting guests—he feigns sweetness toward her.

She, still occupied in the citywide gossip among her girlfriends, only lazily pays mind to the inquiry of her husband. “Um, hold on, dear—Tiff did what?!”

The group of women laugh and continue explaining the messy affair of some woman named Tiffany and Pierro could not care less. He doesn't care about Tiffany’s affairs; it’s yours that calls monopoly over his mind.

You must have been able to sneak off with your boy toy. Curse your attention-hogging mother. Had it not been for her, you wouldn't have been stripped from beneath his palm so stealthily.

Once he gets his hands on that ginger brat—

“I think I saw them go upstairs earlier.” She says it so passively, so dismissively, Pierro almost digests the information normally. Almost.

He doesn't even know which question to pose to get the answer he wants. So, he doesn't. He lets an irritated grumble fall from his mouth as he turns on his heels. Useless. She is ultimately useless and it’s times like this where Pierro wishes he’d met you first.

His footsteps echo up the stairs but to your jaded ears, they're nonexistent.

You sit atop Ajax now, rocking feverishly back and forth along his cock. Your hands are planted on his chest and his hands are on your waist, aiding you in your grinding. This is more passionate and needy than any other experience you've had with Ajax thus far, and the weak babbles of his name tumbling out of your mouth prove that.

Friction builds furiously in your heat and sends electric waves splashing through your veins. It’s what you've been looking for all day: a climactic, ardent affair to invoke the most needed orgasm of your life.

Maybe with this one, how you feel will be solidified.

You're rocking hard, knocking your headboard against the wall. Pierro can hear it as he approaches the top of the stairs and he wonders how much audacity you have.

The next few seconds are a blur: his footsteps approach, and so does your orgasm. You cry out your boyfriend’s name as he encourages your climax, and Pierro wraps his hand around the doorknob. You throw your head back as your orgasm seeps through the floodgates and the door swings open.

So far gone, so unaware in your blissful paradise that Pierro’s looming figure behind you doesn't matter to you. His presence is intense and suffocating and over your shoulder, Ajax catches the sight of him and stiffens up. Their eyes lock and every daring bone in his body is snapped to hustle you off of him. “Babe—”

“What?” You huff out, breathlessly. “I-I’m so close, ‘Jax—please…”

You peel your eyes open against their heavy will, looking down at your boyfriend. That shadow cast on the wall ahead of you catches your attention first. You recognize the silhouette but it isn't until you peer over your shoulder and catch that icy glare that you're all too fearful of—now, anyway.

In your shocked jumping off of Ajax, you manage to roll off the side of the bed and collapse to the floor with a screechy yelp. Ajax struggles to get himself together: fumbling around with his clothing and jaggedly standing up. “M-Mr. A—! I—”

The look Pierro sends has him clamming up and nervously laughing. There's no need for excuses or coy innuendos—you’ve been caught. Now, you need to be punished.

Without a second glance back, your boyfriend scrambles up his things and takes his leave. You want to call him back in, but all courageous function ceases to work before him. With Ajax gone, it's just you and Pierro, and never has that thought scared you before as it is now.

He closes the door and takes short, heavy steps toward you. You stay on the floor, folding your legs behind you and using your planted hands for stability. At this, the difference between the two of you is exaggerated: he stands tall and big over you, the curled bambi caught between a rock and a hard place.

Dense silence hangs in the air. Your lips quiver and shift, as though a jumble of words wish to spill but you don't allow it. You don't allow those tears that mist your eyes to fall out either, rapidly blinking back the flow of guilt. Just the unsure air he imposes makes you want to burst into tears and plead your case.

He continues to say not a word; taking a seat on your bed and only using his hand to direct you onto his lap. The motion is so small and insignificant but it terrifies you no less. Pierro is a jest: a jack of unforeseen trades and when he is ticked off, every nasty card up his sleeve comes out to play. You find yourself obliging with your head hanging low, saving yourself the intensity in his eyes.

When you sit, his arms embrace you. They slink around your waist and hug you into place but they are anything but comforting. It’s suffocating, it’s tense.

A moment is taken to breathe you in. Burrowing his nose against your neck and scrunching the feature distastefully at the overwhelming spicy scent atop your soft skin. Ajax— you smell like Ajax.

“I thought I made myself clear the last time.” The deep timbre of his whisper rumbles in your spine. It startles you straight and the confrontational air pulls out your weakness. You hate trouble, you hate being bad, you hate how he does this to you.

His breathing is soft on your neck. It tickles but it doesn't make you want to laugh. You want to cry and beg for his forgiveness. I’m sorry, Daddy, I really am! You think to cry. I’m yours, your good girl, Daddy!

Nothing comes out of you, so he continues. “I give myself to you because I care about you. Everything you could ever need is right here with me, so answer me: why?”

Your expression is pained and guilty. He knows you better than you do and he knows how to sucker punch your heart. You thought your day with Ajax would clarify the conflicting feelings in your heart, but your time with Pierro unwinds all assurity.

Tears roll down your cheeks and you struggle to put together a sentence. “Daddy…I—” you hic, a sob tumbling over your words. You turn into him and string your arms around him, weeping onto his shoulder and soiling his shirt. “I-I'm so confused…”

“What are you confused about?” His question holds not an ounce of sympathy. Still, he soothes your back with his palm, ushering out every guilty tear you weep. “I do everything for you, with you, to you—what could he be that I couldn't?”

Kind, gentle, tender, freeing. Ajax is the silk breather in your synthetic cage. He gives you a bright, lightening feeling that, against Pierro’s uncharted depths, saves you. You can't tell him that you’re finding love in Ajax. He’ll raise every dead flaw right out of you.

“Tell me what to do to make it better.”

You don't even notice his hands slipping under the cups of your bikini top. Your nipples are caught between his fingers, softly being tweaked and pinched until the tight pebbles stiffen the bud. Your cries gradually subside until you're sniffling and hiccupping, noticing his absent-minded ministrations and pulsing cock under your ass.

The worst part about realizing your position is that you don't want to escape. Maybe letting him have his way with you again will lessen the load on your shoulders. Anything to blur the confusing lines.

“Has he ever seen you cry like this?” He asks. You shake your head no. “He wouldn't even know what to do to make it all go away, would he?” No—you shake your head no. “What would you do without me? Huh?”

“I don't know.” You’d be normal, maybe. You wouldn't depend on him to fix what's always breaking inside you. You'd love and date and experience life without the debilitating crutch of your daddy there to hold you back.

With Ajax, nothing goes wrong but nothing goes right. With Pierro, everything goes wrong but everything feels so right.

So skewed, so lost, so unfounded, your relationship is the pinnacle of gnarled. He is the leader of your abyssal path and yet, also your savior from it. A world without him in it is hard to imagine — and when you're on his lap, in his arms like this, it’s hard to want to imagine it.

“You don't ever want to know, do you?” Again, no—you’re shaking your head no as though it’s the only motion you know how to do. “Then stop driving me away. Let me love you.”

He’s kissing over your skin, palming your boobs softly. It’s familiar and safe and you know that in the end, he’ll still be there. Etched in your skin and mind, reminding you that there's someone to fall into when life becomes too much. You can lean into Pierro with security—and just like that, all of your valiant agency is melted away.

“Okay,” is the only word you say, and it's the only word he needs.

━━━━━━

Nine days. Pierro has called you twelve times, texted you thirty-seven times, and has lost his mind three times in the nine days that you've been gone.

You're mad at him, he understands that now. He pushed you and drove you away, he understands that now, so why can't you answer his calls and talk to him?

“She needs space,” your mother says. She wraps her arms around him from the back and smoothes the wrinkles in his shirt. “She’s grown and in love and needs her space to flourish, Pi. Don't suffocate her.”

Okay. He would have left it alone at that. When you need him, you’ll come back; you always do.

But your mother could not let well enough be. “Besides, she’s with Ajax. They’ll be keeping each other company while we…”

The rest of that was lost in his head. Evidently, Pierro is not getting across to you. When he spoke to you that evening of the pool party, that was to be the last time that redhead’s name was thought of, and, yet, here you are, running into his arms.

It wouldn't drive him crazy if he didn't have you first. If everything you've ever known and done wasn't by his hand. You are his little girl, his prize at the end of a tiring marriage, his happy ending after a long day, his.

His instant joy— Ding!

Pierro’s phone is in his hand in seconds. The deep snores of his wife let him know that tiptoeing away won't be necessary. Your name, decorated in a sole red heart, pops up two more times, and before he unveils the messages, his mind swirls with the string of excuses you're probably typing out.

The texts are short and insignificant when he lays eyes on the attachment. A three-minute and forty-eight-second video with your glossy, smiley face in the thumbnail. He swings the door of his office shut and sits down, immediately pressing play.

You're giggling in the immediate beginning before your laughs are morphed into a string of moans. The angle fixates on your face, downturned and droopy in pleasure—a face Pierro is all too familiar with. Catching sight of it on the other side of a phone is angering, to say the least.

Wet slopping is heard in the foreground, competing with your moans for volume. It’s slow and romantic—in and out, in and out, in and out—each thrust eliciting a shallow hiss from behind the camera and a pleading whine from in front of it. The angle shifts just as he breathes out, his pale hand drifting from the side of your waist to massage your clit. “Like that, baby? That good for you?”

You hum in confirmation, bucking up into his hand. “S-so good—mmfh, ‘J-Jax—!”

He laughs behind the camera, zooming into your sloppy cunt. You're dripping: thick, glossy beads of slick pooling in your slit and spilling around his dick. It shines a gleaming reflection under the light of the flash and Ajax is quick to rapidly rub through and splash your arousal around. The clicking sound that elicits is viscid and resounding but the pleasured sobs you choke out are louder. He moves the camera up to your face, streaks of tears splashing down your hot cheeks.

His fingers intrude between your parted lips and you immediately slurp your arousal off his fingers. “So nasty…what if daddy saw you like this?”

The tone in his voice is teasing- patronizing, as though the total wreck you are before him is a joke. You open teary eyes to stare into the camera, a wide grin pulling at your lips around his fingers. Your pupils are wide and blown: an endless, dark pit of lust that when appearing on the phone seems as though it’s entrancing Pierro.

Your hands wrap around Ajax’s forearm—and you moan one last time around his fingers, swiveling your tongue around the digits before pulling them out. You bring his hand to wrap around your throat, grinning wide. Those lustful eyes leave the camera and presumably to Ajax behind the camera and your lips part slowly. “You are my daddy.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ajax mutters behind the camera, and the stability of the angle wavers. The pair of you share breathless laughs.

That motherfucker, Pierro thinks, gripping the phone tighter. In the final twenty seconds, Ajax curses under his breath, putting your pussy in view. His pace is a lot sloppier and desperate now and his voice cracks as he moans your name. “‘M gonna cum—”

You draw out a sharp whine, using your fingers to pinch and feverishly flick your clit. “Please..” you breathe out. “Cum in me, Daddy.”

The video ends. Pierro cannot believe his eyes nor his ears—you—he can't believe this.

He doesn't bother reading the next incoming messages. He’s already racing downstairs and yanking his keys off of the hook.

Pierro’s a jest and the joke is about to be on you.

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year

Text

Hate

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Mean!Joel is back! Beware of dubcon.

Summary: This is PWP. Nothing else. Joel manhandles you in your home. You hate him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con, tears, ignoring you in bed, breeding kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, forced creampie, dirty talk, fingering, oral m receiving, deepthroating, degradation, finger sucking

Word count: 3.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338

Hate

You had promised yourself never to give in to Joel, but he has his hand in your pants with a force that has sent you dangerously close to the edge of coming in mere seconds. You had fought him, said no for less than a second, but then there were two of Joel’s thick fingers inside of your cunt, beckoning your orgasm closer by rubbing the tips of them against your g-spot whilst grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. Who could continue saying no to that?

And to think that this is happening in your own home of all places; somewhere that you’d shouted that he’d never set foot in after the way that he’d continuously humiliated you in front of your shared patrol group. Back then, he had suggested meeting up at your place after training to help you improve your skills (or lack thereof), but you had been inches away from spitting in his face at the suggestion that he had anything to teach you.

You realize now what he had meant, and additionally why he had wanted to nitpick at your fumbling with your rifle and the way you sometimes lose balance for the briefest moment when you tried getting on your horse: Joel wanted you to hate him. He wanted to rile you up, because he wanted to have his way with you and this was the only way to get your attention.

If only he knew that he already had it so desperately. If only he knew how much you hated yourself each time you fucked yourself open on your fingers at the thought of his rough demeanor, strong arms, rough hands and salt-and-pepper hair and beard.

“Joel,” you say shakily, gripping at his arm as you feel yourself dance around the edge. You moan loudly, leaning your head back against the wall that he has shoved you against, “You’re making me—“

His hand is gone as fast as it had been there, brutally dragging you away from your orgasm that had been so perfectly within reach. You furrow your brow as your clit throbs, whining through a moan as you are suddenly empty, but you are clever enough to not start complaining with thoughts put into actual words. He doesn’t seem like he’d like that with the way he’s looking at you; Joel’s eyes are practically black with harsh desire, his normal brown tint that you have often found his only kind feature, completely gone.

Oh, the irony of him being the enemy who, as the only person, also has the remedy to all the racing thoughts that flood your brain.

There’s a moment where he just has you panting into the room, but then he reaches up to grip your jaw with the same hand, smearing your wetness along your cheek as he holds you in place. You want to look away, turn your head to the side to not let him have the satisfaction of seeing how terrified and horny you are.

“Christ,” his southern twang is thicker than normally when he has you like this, “I can see how much you want it. Stop pretending you ever wanted to refuse.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is what I should do,” he finishes your sentence, tightening his grip on your jaw and pushing the softness of your cheeks inwards. You try to avoid biting down on the soft flesh despite how hard it is with Joel’s strong hand holding you like this. He continues, “Fuck you stupid, so ya wouldn’t have such a smart lil’ mouth around me and the others guys. I don’t think you know how many of them want to shove a cock down your throat to shut you up for just five fucking minutes. Bet you gobble down dick like a pro with how much you love using your mouth to make my day hell.”

He turns his wrist to shove his slick fingers into your mouth before you can retort as if to test out his theory before giving you the real deal. You suck them filthily into your mouth, tasting yourself on them whilst holding his gaze. As if to say something snarky, you narrow your eyes at him and scrape your front teeth slightly along his digits as he pushes down on your tongue. He retreats his hand with a growl, dragging a string of saliva from your mouth that drips down to your chin. He wipes his fingers clean on your shirt.

“Jeeesus, you’re annoying,” he bites, but somehow still shows you enough trust to put his cock in your mouth as he starts pushing down on your shoulders. You let him, if not only to have a chance to rid him of his shit attitude, slowly sinking to your knees until he has you trapped between the wall and himself.

“Look at you with your hair up already,” he notes, praising almost absentmindedly, “It’s like you knew.”

You palm him over his denim pants and earn a groan, noticing his generous size even before seeing him on full display. He is outlined so well, hard underneath the fabric that must be straining painfully and withholding any type of friction. You absentmindedly lick your lips before going to work.

Getting his dick out isn’t a challenge because it is jutting out underneath his boxers as soon as you undo the jeans. You feel a tug in your cunt as you realize his girth and length, the outline having cheated your eyes to think that he was smaller. Your gaze follows each ridge of his veins, which you have an urge to trail with your tongue to really get to know him.

At this point, you barely know if he will fit into your mouth or pussy, but you do know that you don’t mind being stuffed to the brim. It’s just been a while.

You pull down at his boxers to let them rest just above his knees alongside his jeans. Then you wrap your hand around the base of his length, looking up at him through your lashes and flattening your tongue. You tap the thick head against your tongue a few times before giving him a kitten lick to test out his sensitivity.

Joel’s large hand comes to rest on top of your head whilst he inhales deeply through his nose. He doesn’t say anything besides breathing a little louder, so you find it safe to wrap your lips around him experimentally, moaning as you finally taste his skin.

Engulfing him in the heat of your mouth seems to make him shiver a little more, even more so when you start sliding down your soft lips to feel every inch until he is nudging at the back of your throat. You try relaxing your throat but he is huge, at this point barely halfway in. You gag and try sucking in a hitched breath through your nose.

“That’s it, honey, gag on it,” you hear from above you, thick fingers that you miss inside of you carding over the hair on top of your head and towards the back of your head. You whine as the fingers close around your ponytail in a fist, tightening to give the opportunity to use you like a marionette.

Pulling back a little whilst hollowing your cheeks, you try going back to the head and swirl your tongue, not wanting to feel the squeeze of your throat around him again if it meant nausea. It works for a moment; you curl your tongue around the underside as you bob your head.

But when you stop right before hitting the back over and over, Joel doesn’t seem too pleased with it. You look up at him, eyes wide as you are acting oblivious.

“What are you doing?” He asks impatiently then presses against your shoulder with his free hand, pushing you into the wall to make it impossible for you to escape. You whine up at him with panicked eyes as he pushes his hips forward, sliding right back down your throat again. He chuckles darkly, “Try fighting it, sweetheart, no one’s gonna hear you cry with my dick in your mouth.”

There’s a brief thought of biting down but then Joel continues, “You want this though, don’t you? No one makes such a desperate display of hate in front of others without it being about something else. You just wanted cock. Go on, and then I might make your cunt weep and spasm after.”

You gargle pathetically in return. Yes, yes, you want that so much, clit throbbing painfully between your legs as you were neglected by him right before your orgasm.

“That’s what I thought,” there’s a tug at your ponytail and suddenly, your nose is buried in Joel’s happy trail, “Now relax your pretty throat, whilst I fuck your smart mouth. Remember to swallow too.”

You curse yourself as you try to force spit down just as he says it, swallowing thickly around his cock to which he responds by letting out a whew and wrapping your hair around his fist to gain more control. It makes tears sting at the corners of your eyes, threatening to drip down and slide over your cheeks and, worst case scenario, into your mouth.

He thrusts once then twice, setting up a rhythm, and you can taste the salt of his precome. It’s brutal. You relax your throat as best you can like he has ordered, but deep-throating has never been a well-developed skill of yours, and when it happens you appreciate that you can control it. This isn’t the case with Joel; right now, he isn’t even letting you breathe as he shoves his cock down your throat by bucking his hips and yanking hard on your hair to meet in the middle.

You want to fall onto the floor after that, completely exhausted from the rough handling of your mouth, but instead of trying to fight it, you reach with one hand to steady yourself by holding his thigh whilst the other reaches down to rub your clit. You sob with relief, spilling actual tears now as you feel the first stirring of an orgasm while he fucks your face.

“You better not come unless it’s me making you,” he pants and you slow down your fingers before, albeit reluctantly, removing them from yourself altogether. Following orders feels like a reflex this time. Oh, you want him. Fuck him.

“Such a good girl, you could become my favorite” he wipes the tears from your eyes almost affectionately, but doesn’t remove his cock from your mouth just yet. Only when you are close to collapsing, your entire body pleading for you to take in a proper breath through your mouth, he relents.

You cough as soon as your aching jaw and throat is relieved of the pressure, heaving in several breaths that burn in your lungs and make your nose run. Joel’s cock is still in front of your face, slick with your spit, but he makes no movement to force you to suck him again.

“Christ, look at you being a fucking mess,” he lets go of your hair, kneels down to look you in the face and pat your cheek, “But you know that it was something that had to be done, don’t ya? Fuckin’ hate an attitude.”

“Yes,” you croak. It hurts to speak.

“Good girl. Now get up.”

“What?” You look a little shocked.

“It ain’t a suggestion, sweetheart. Get up. Gotta fuck you until you’re dumber, remember? Don’t tell me it’s already happened?”

You scowl. He smirks.

With much effort, you slowly get back onto your feet but not without feeling utter shame as you feel Joel’s impatient eyes roll as he watches. Your body aches for a break, but anything’s worth his promise of putting his cock inside of you.

When you’re finally standing on two legs, Joel tuts whilst he pulls at your already undone jeans. He shoves them down your legs, not afraid to crouch down into such a pose of submission in front of you as he does it, because you know he is in charge. He orders you to step out of your jeans one foot after the other.

Your underwear follows, wetness having seeped through them and causing the fabric to shine, and then his head is level with your bare cunt. He stares at your sticky inner thighs, mutters something under his breath and reaches between your legs to scoop up some of your slick from your folds. You whine.

“Shut up and take your top off. Lemme see those tits too,” he orders as he indulges himself, sucking his fingers clean after getting up from the floor again. You obey silently, feeling another gush from your cunt as you watch him eat your slick like candy.

“Can I have it now?” You ask quietly.

“So polite.”

“Please,” you add.

“Fuck, maybe you’re already my favorite girl,” he moans, bending down just a little to lift you off the ground, strong hands on the back of your thighs, and wraps your legs around his body. He pushes your back into the wall, laughs a little as the back of your head knocks against it. You look at him with a dazed smile.

When he enters you, you gasp in unison. He takes up every little bit of space inside your cunt, nudging at your cervix and stretching you to the point where it burns sweetly between your legs. You dig your heels into the small of his back, angling yourself slightly to keep him from missing that little sensitive spot inside of you, resting comfortably against it until he feels ready to abuse it.

“You’re so big,” you reply and clench around him, fluttering from need mixed with the lack of movement, “Please, Joel.”

“I barely fit,” he groans.

“Joel,” you say again, a little more impatiently, and it earns you a painful thrust. Your mouth hangs open in a silent shout, your toes curling and your eyes falling shut.

Joel starts to fuck you roughly, slamming his hips up into you over and over again. His face is contorted by concentration, beads of sweat forming around his temples as he pistons his cock in and out of your weeping pussy.

You tremble in his arms, feel the pain of the wall behind you being pressed into the bones of your hips and your back, but the sensation of the fat head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot has you forgetting about any discomfort. It cancels out everything so beautifully.

You’ve forgotten how to moan, maybe even your name too. The only noises leaving you are whimpers or whines that make you closer to a wounded animal than a fully-fledged human. You take whatever he can give you, throw your head back and feel him latch onto your neck.

“Fuck me, oh— shit, Joel,” you cry, voice still sore and tired from the way he has used your mouth. The sound has an effect; Joel’s movements aren’t as controlled and consistent as just a moment before.

“Knew you wanted it,” he pants against your skin, looks down between you to stare at your breasts whilst impaling you repeatedly, “Knew it from— Christ… that’s good — Knew it from the moment you called me that name. What was it?”

“A fucking asshole,” you interrupt before he can answer his own question. Joel laughs quietly, falters just briefly. You can feel him twitching inside of your cunt; he must be close.

“Pull out,” you say breathlessly at a particularly sharp thrust to your g-spot which makes you shudder. The words are completely ignored by him. You repeat them a little louder, but it seems that he is willfully ignoring you, and it makes you panic slightly.

Joel groans as you start thrashing in his arms, clenching involuntarily around his length as you try to get away from him.

“Pull out. Joel,” you order but there’s hardly anything dominant about you.

“Fuck no,” he chuckles through a moan, gritting his teeth as he continues his torturous thrusts. By now, it just hurts because your orgasm fades so quickly and the sensation in your body becomes replaced by fear.

Oh.

This position had been chosen wisely by him. You are trapped between him and the wall just like before, and this time, he holds you in place so roughly that it hurts to try and fight him. You want to stretch your legs to feel the safety of the ground in your home beneath your feet, but Joel seems determined to ruin your safest space.

“No, please, please pull out, Joel,” you whimper to no avail, clawing at his back. His hands are rough on your thighs, nails digging brutishly into the soft flesh of your plump legs. He has you exactly where he wants you.

“Keep your mouth shut and take it,” he growls. Then his hips stutter, and he pushes his pelvis harshly into yours as he empties himself inside of your body.

It feels dirty. You feel dirty.

Warmth spreads inside of your cunt, your walls welcoming every single drop of his come like some kind of biological instinct in a world so cruel. You wanted this, you know this, but you don’t want the possible consequences of it.

There is no doubt what this is about for him. He is claiming you as his; marking you with evidence of who you belong to and fuck, even better if you end up with the ultimate mark of possession in a primal world as this; round and swollen with his kid.

Joel pulls out and carefully puts you down onto the floor after a moment. He grunts as he tucks away his spent dick, steps back and lets you slide down the wall when your legs give out.

The lights above you seem brighter. You feel sticky and warm, but still unsatisfied from not having reached your own high as the situation seconds earlier brutally ripped you from coming apart. You have seed dripping out of you onto the floor, and Joel doesn’t spare you a glance.

Instead, you just suddenly hear your front door.

You’re alone, and you hate him. You hate him so much that you can’t stop thinking about him, furiously rubbing your clit until you gasp quietly into the empty room and pushing the remainder of his come out as your cunt contracts into pleasure.

He needs to come back. Just once. Just to feel this again, but by the doing of his fingers or his hands, maybe even his cock.

You know that he’s got you exactly where he wants you.

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1K notes · View notes

lustspren · 1 year

Text

P.S.T EP. 1 | As You Wish ft Yuna

length: 10.2k words✦

Shin Yuna & Male Reader.

genres: footjob, thighjob, foot worship, public sex, blowjob, oral sex, creampie ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The night you came home after the Spa session with ITZY was one of doing everything on autopilot, you didn't really pay attention to what you were doing, your mind kept on what had happened a few hours ago, and above all, in the difficult, incredible and terrifying request that Yeji had made of you.

Normally your mind was scheming every second that passed, but the moment where you overthought things the most was when you went to sleep. You thought about many things with the blanket up to your chest and your gaze fixed on the ceiling, and the question that most frequently occurred to you was 'am I really up to it?'. The work you had done with them, even with the limitations already imposed by the work environment, had been impeccable, otherwise you wouldn't be in the situation you were in, but you couldn't help but think that the pressure could work against you at any time, even knowing that you were not going to have any limitations of any kind.

And well, the other questions that occurred to you were stupid things that your head threw at you just to piss you off, such as: 'What will they do if I don't please them? JYP is going to disappear me into a pool of sulfuric acid?' or also 'If I do something they don't like, will they cut my dick off?'. Quite normal questions that the human brain asks in stressful situations.

That night you went to sleep restless.

———————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to a message on your phone from an unknown number, but from the way it was written you could easily tell that it was from Hwang Yeji. The message didn't contain much, it was just a greeting, an address and a warning that emphasized that you should not arrive before 5 pm. You clearly weren't going to argue against that.

It was 10:13 in the morning on a Sunday, and despite having slept for more than 9 uninterrupted hours, you felt like a Bear whose hibernation was interrupted by a tremendously unavoidable situation and who hated his life. You made a quick breakfast, cereal and a couple of oatmeal cookies, and turned on the small TV in your kitchen to catch the day's news.

The truth was that you didn't even watch the news, your gaze was lost in nothing while your arm spooned cereal into your mouth from time to time, too busy thinking about what the hell you were going to wear to go, and that was just the beginning of the day.

———————————————————————

2:43 PM and you were still sitting on your bed, staring at your wide open closet as you pored over your options. You had never felt so Grinch in your life, you even made the faint of lying back on your bed and saying: 'That's it I'm not going', but your common sense made you realize that this was tremendously stupid .

In the end, enlightenment came to you on its own, you didn't want to dress like you were going to a Met Gala, but you didn't want to dress like a bum either. You opted for khaki baggy pants, white trainers, a gray hoodie, and a black baseball jacket with white over it. You saw yourself in the mirror a couple of times, and surprisingly, you considered that you were perfect for the occasion.

You left your building at around 3:03 PM, took your car and drove to the address written in Yeji's message. It was about 10 minutes driving until you arrived, realizing that you were in a residential villa, and that Itzy's bedroom was a 3-story townhouse. You weren't surprised at all.

The townhouse was a little further apart from all the others. Located on the hillside and not far from the forest. You had to admit that it was a beautiful, peaceful place with beautiful views, perfect so that no one would ever think of finding them there. Clever to say the least.

You parked the car on the road a few meters from the gate and got out of the car while you put the keys in your jacket pocket. You stood in front of the gate, and you stared at a camera located to the right for a few seconds until you took out your phone to tell Yeji that you were outside. You only received an 'I know' as a response. You saw the camera again and waved.

Less than five minutes passed when the automatic gate began to open, and when it reached halfway, you found yourself face to face with Yeji herself, as radiant and beautiful as she always was despite not even wearing makeup. She was wearing black sweatpants, gray crocs, and a white tank top with no bra underneath. Your gaze went to the clearly visible nipples for a moment, but then back to her eyes.

"Hello there, oppa," Yeji smiled with her gaze fixed on you, her hands clasped behind her back, "Welcome, I didn't think you'd be here so late."

"Hi! Thank you" you greeted back with a friendly smile, walking past her to stand on the other side of the gate, "Well, actually I spent most of the time debating with myself, sorry."

"Oh, you didn't want to come?" She raised an eyebrow in the most dangerous way, and then stepped forward to stand mere inches from you, "Did you think you'd miss out on the chance to get our pussies as much as you want? Really?"

"Well, if you say it that way..." you were going to finish the sentence until Yeji put her hand on the back of your neck and pulled you towards her so that you were inches from her face.

"You don't turn down an offer like that, darling, it would be sacrilege," she took one of your hands and brought it to one of her tits, so that you could feel and squeeze it over the fabric of her tank top, "And I would take that as an offense to us," she approached your lips as if to kiss them, you felt her breath, but as soon as your lips brushed, she pulled away from you.

"I… right, fuck, I'm sorry," you took a deep breath, closed your eyes and exhaled to calm yourself, "wasn't that a little risky doing that out here?"

"Nah, we live alone, it's safe enough here to do that," Yeji turned around and started walking towards the house, you followed her close behind.

"That sounds too good to be true," you commented, looking at the rectangular pool you were surrounding and the crystal clear water flowing through.

"Well you're right, our manager comes every day to check that everything is fine and in order," you walked to the right, straight towards one of the glass doors. Yeji opened it by sliding it to the left, and made you go in first, "But he only comes in the morning, and as soon as he arrives, he's gone."

Yeji guided you through the giant and beautiful house, giving you a quick mini tour of just the places you passed. You got to the second floor, and as soon as you climbed the last step, you found yourself facing another glass door that led to one of the balconies, where there was what appeared to be a large rectangular jacuzzi with two steps.

"Fuck, they spared no expense," you muttered, looking out.

To the right of the glass door were the stairs leading to the third floor, and you barely glanced left to see a familiar face in the room at the end of the hall. You and Yeji walked in that direction, and now you were in what was the living room of the house.

"Oh my, look who we have here," Ryujin said playfully, sitting with her legs drawn up on the far left of the giant beige leather sofa, which spanned at least 10 feet horizontally. She wasn't even fully clothed, just wearing a baggy black sweater and blue panties.

Ryujin wasn't the only one on the couch. To the right, slightly away from her, Chaery was lying, staring at her phone and her head resting on the armband, which you were sure was more of a pillow, and the sofa could also be used as a bed. She was also still in her pajamas, extremely short white shorts and a loose-fitting shirt of the same color.

"Hi girls," you greeted with a smirk and a little bow to both of them. Ryujin got up only to give you a peck on the cheek and sit back down, but Chaery just waved at you with her view still on her phone screen.

"Oh, don't mind her, she just woke up and she hates us all," Yeji said, leaving you standing where you were and entering an unseen hallway to your left. You assumed that she led to a bathroom.

"It's 3 in the afternoon, are you serious?" you chuckled.

"She fell asleep late watching an anime on Netflix," said another person to your left who you hadn't noticed because of how quiet and still she was. You turned to see Lia, sitting on the counter in the corner of the kitchen, next to the outlet where she had her phone connected. She did go with ordinary two-piece pajamas, blue cotton shorts and a tank top of the same color, however, she was not wearing a bra either.

"Which one?" you asked, with your hands in the pockets of your jacket to take a few steps forward and analyze the entire room, you were unable to calculate an exact price for such beauty, but the oak wood floor and furniture, together with the intrinsic system of lighting in the whole house had to be worth 10 times more than your apartment.

"The Seven Deadly Sins..." Chaery replied, her voice sounding as if her soul had been sucked out of her.

"Damn, you wasted your time, I'm sorry," you winced.

"Please don't remind me," she sighed.

"Hey, want to have a seat? You're getting on my nerves standing there," Ryujin said, patting a space next to her. You went and sat down. Sitting there you could see the rest of the space, in front there was a small brick wall that matched the floor, a boiler on the lower right side with a compartment to store firewood on the left, and installed higher up, a TV about 50 inches where they were watching Bluey. To the left of the brick wall, another glass door that also led to the balcony.

"Oh, where is Yuna? I haven't seen her," you said, watching the show with Ryujin.

"She must be in her room doing who knows what, she's been there ever since she woke up," Yeji replied, leaving the hallway she entered a few minutes ago and walking towards the kitchen. It wasn't even 5 seconds after Yeji said that when you saw a pair of feet go down the steps that led to the third floor.

"Speaking of Helen of Troy..." Ryujin muttered next to you.

Yuna patiently walked down the steps, as if she were the princess of a fantasy kingdom whose suitors they were eager to see, but her face and aura didn't take her too far from that status tho. She looked utterly charming to you. Pink pants, tight cropped t-shirt with an evident push-up bra, and white sandals that let her pretty feet shine. As icing on the cake, she wore a little pink hair pin on one side of her head. Inevitably your gaze went straight to her delicious bare midriff, she seemed to notice, because when you looked up to meet her eyes, she followed them until your eyes met.

"Hi oppa," Yuna greeted you with a smirk, her hands clasped behind her as she joined you in the living room.

"Hi, my lady," you joked, returning the smirk.

"You were still in your panties when I left the bedroom before he arrived, how did you do it so fast?" Yeji asked from the kitchen, pouring herself apple juice into a glass.

"I saw him coming through the window," Yuna replied puzzled, as if it was obvious.

"Yeah, but you didn't answer my question," Yeji leaned her back on the table, then took a sip of the juice.

"Oh, I just wanted him to see me pretty and dressed up," the innocent little smile returned to her face, "Not like you guys who look like you just got kicked out of bed."

"I was," Chaery said quietly, eyes still on her phone. You held back your laughter.

"Whatever," Yuna ignored her, "Oppa, do I look pretty?" She waved her hair from side to side and then turned to look at you flirtatiously over her shoulder.

"Very pretty, yes," you agreed.

"I know, thanks," she winked at you and turned around again, "shall we go?"

"Uh? Where?" You turned to see Ryujin, with whom you exchanged glances, and she showed you that she was just as confused as you.

"I don't know, take me around," she shrugged, "although now that I think about it, I've been in need of shoes lately."

"Shin Yuna, you have a different pair of shoes for each day of the week," Ryujin said.

"I said I need shoes!" she protested, frowning, "come on oppa."

"Honey, did you forget that you are an idol and that you can't go out like that?" Lia also intervened, "wear a cap, mask and if possible, a coat."

"And you," Yeji said, staring at you, "make sure she doesn't do stupid things."

"She does them normally?" You looked at Yuna, who was playing dumb.

"No, but when she's around a cute guy," Ryujin said, with a mischievous chuckle, "go ahead," she patted your shoulder, and you were forced to get up from the couch.

"I'll wait for you outside, okay? I'll go start the car," you said, stopping in front of Yuna, she looked into your eyes, and you saw her back. Two big glowing orbs.

"Of course," she agreed.

You walked past her, and before you started down the stairs, you stopped.

"Uhm… can someone go with me?" you asked with a nervous giggle, "I don't remember how to get out."

"Don't worry, I'll go," Ryujin got up from the sofa and walked towards you to follow you down the stairs.

"God, thank you," you sighed.

Ryujin led you through the labyrinth they called home again, and when you were crossing the narrow corridor that led to the hall on the ground floor, she stopped you abruptly and pulled you towards her, causing you to pin her against the wall. You froze at the unexpected movement.

"I hate that my turn is still so far away..." she muttered, grabbing your waist, "I already want that dick inside me so bad..." Her hand went straight to your bulge, she squeezed it over your pants, and you were tempted to kiss her, but you thinked twice.

"Stop, Yuna's going to be here any minute," you muttered back, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away from your crotch.

"So what? She and I could suck your cock right here," Ryujin's eyes were fixed on you with great desire and lust.

"No, cutie, I'm sorry, it's her turn, it's her decision," you took the hem of her sweater and brought it up to her waist, held it with one hand, and with the other you rubbed her pussy up and down over the panties. She seemed surprised but not upset, "Relax, I'll make it worth the wait."

"You son of a…" she leaned forward slightly to kiss you, but she bit her lip to contain herself, "get out of here, the gate has a manual control on the side, the password is 120219."

"Very kind, see you later!"

And so you did. You separated from her, left the hall and followed the same steps as when you entered with Yeji. You circled the pool, and went to the gate. You entered the key as it was told, and it began to open slowly.

You went outside and went straight to your car, started it, and drove right to the front of the house to wait for Yuna. The aforementioned left the house a few minutes later, wearing a cap, face mask and black coat, she looked to the sides as a precaution so that no one was watching, and she got into your car.

"Are you ready, oppa?" Yuna asked, pulling down her mask but covering her face even more with the cap, "nice car, by the way."

"Thanks, it cost me two years of savings," you laughed, making a U-turn and starting to drive out of the residential village, "any specific place you want to go?"

"Take me to the Starfield, they have a Louis Vuitton store where they sell very cute shoes!" Yuna answered excitedly, but you only worried.

"You do know that everyone goes to that mall on the weekends, right?" you asked, eyes on the road.

"Oh, come on!" she complained, "No one will recognize me, I will not take off my cap or mask at any time."

"I know you won't, but I fear for some obsessive fan recognizing you just by…I don't know, your body."

"Well, that wouldn't surprise me..." you turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow, "Okay okay, sorry," she laughed, "but I still want to go, I'm a human being! Not a fucking circus animal."

"You have a point," you nodded, returning your gaze to the road, turning around a street to head up the highway, "As you wish, princess."

———————————————————————

You arrived at the mall after a drive of about 10 minutes, it was difficult to find a place to park, but you took advantage of the fact that someone was just leaving to take their place. Yuna put her mask up again, and before she got out of the car you grabbed her wrist.

"Hey, no talking to high concentrations of people, you'd be too obvious," you warned, putting the car keys in your jacket pocket.

"Understood," she nodded, and then you released her to get out of the car.

As you walked through the mall you could feel the tension take over every fiber of your body. You couldn't believe you were on that site with such a massive public figure like her, but it wasn't being with her that made you nervous, it was the fact that any wrong move could get her and you in trouble. You really didn't have to, but you made sure to keep some distance from her just in case.

Yuna was obedient in not speaking, she just silently led you through the shops until you reached the Louis Vuitton store. The storefront was simple, but exuded elegance and exclusivity. And thank God, with the naked eye there were only 8 to 10 people inside.

You entered in the most discreet way you could, glued to the wall without attracting too much attention and going directly to the shoe area. It was then that Yuna moved away from you a bit to be able to carefully examine the shelves and tables. A store worker approached her to serve her, and within a few minutes, she took a pair of slingback shoes from a table with the distinctive brown color of Louis Vuitton and the logos of the brand as a print. The manager left with them, and then returned with the same ones but her size.

Yuna took off her coat and handed it to you, and as you sat down, she took off her sandals to replace them with the pair of shoes she had just chosen.

"Well? What do you think, oppa?" Yuna lifted her leg and made you grab her ankle to get a closer look at her shoe, but you knew well that she did it to make you remember what happened just days ago. The shoes were very pretty, they exposed her ankle and the vast majority of her feet, except for her toes, they certainly looked very pretty on her.

"They look nice on you, but I think you could go for something more… uncovered, perhaps?" you asked, releasing her ankle. Hearing that, the guy serving her showed her a variety of options. Yuna chose some that you recognized, they were champagne-colored eleanor slide sandals, which you also knew were fucking expensive.

She took off her previous shoes and put on her sandals. She repeated the process, and you grabbed her ankle once more.

"Something like that?" Yuna asked playfully, moving her fingers slowly to tease you. You stared at her foot, and your first instinct was to want to grab her toes and start kissing them, but you were in a public place, and you only controlled the flashbacks.

"Those are perfect, cutie, they're a yes," you nodded, and then released her ankle.

She wasn't happy with just one pair, so she had the worker show her more. This time, she chose double-strap sandals in the same color as the first pair she chose and with the same print.

Once again, she made you grab her ankle but with the other foot, and if you had liked the sandals she tried on before, you loved these. You pretended to look down each side of her foot to see the sandal, but it was just an excuse so you could caress her ankle and the sides of her foot with your thumbs. After a few seconds, you released her ankle.

"I must say… they're my favorites so far," you smiled, looking into her eyes, "you should take these, and those," you pointed to the previous sandals.

"Okay... but I think I need to go to the dressing room for a moment, I have some discomfort in my..." she made a move to grab her tits, but she didn't, "you know."

"Uh?" You frowned in confusion, "well, go ahead, I'll be waiting for you out here."

"That way, miss," the worker said, gesturing with his palm toward a hallway farther to the left.

"Thank you," Yuna gave him a small bow, and she turned to go to the dressing room.

Not a minute has passed since Yuna left when you received a photo from an unknown number to your phone. It was Yuna. And it was a photo that had just been taken in the dressing room mirror, which had nothing special, it was just her standing facing the front, without her mask or cap on. What really caught your eye was the caption: 'Hey oppa, I don't think I can do it by myself... can you help me?'

You put your phone away immediately, and the first thing you saw was the worker in front of you. You couldn't just stand up and go in the same direction as Yuna, you had to find an excuse. You thought about it for a few long seconds, so that in the end you ended up resorting to a cheap and typical excuse.

"Excuse me, where are the bathrooms?" you asked, standing up.

"Oh, that way sir," the guy pointed back again, but this time to the other side, to a hallway to the right. Very timely.

"Thank you."

You stood up and walked to where he told you to, but before entering the hallway you stopped, looking over your shoulder and making sure he wasn't looking to run with silent footsteps in the other direction.

The dressing rooms consisted of two rows, one on each side, making a total of 8 changing rooms with closed doors whose lights were all off except for one, one that was at the end of the row on the left, the furthest from the corridor. You walked with slow and silent steps, until you arrived in front of the door. You tapped twice with your knuckle.

"Yuna-ssi?" You called, almost in a whisper.

"Come in, silly, you don't have to be so quiet," she replied a tone higher than you, and then she opened the door for you to step inside.

"What do you need help with?" you were probably being very stupid, but at that moment you didn't get her intentions, who knows why. Of course this would not last long.

"Absolutely nothing..." Yuna took her coat from your hand and let it fall to the ground, getting dangerously close to you.

"So?" You saw her eyes, your head had already reacted, but you wanted to play the fool, "I don't quite understand why you made me come here."

"Don't you get the idea?" she hugged your torso with both hands, making sure to press her tits against your chest.

"Mmm, I don't know, I think you should cut to the chase and that's it," you put both arms around her shoulders and hugged her too.

"I want you to fuck me here and now, oppa..." she muttered without taking her eyes off you for a single second. She then withdrew an arm from around your body and reached down to grab the bulge over your pants.

"Did you go crazy, honey?" You couldn't help but smirk, "They could catch us at any time, it would be such a mess," you bit her lip, as she massaged your cock until it was rock hard.

"I promise I'll be silent... besides, I want to know how it feels to do it in a public place," saying that, she broke the distance between your faces and crashed her lips against yours.

"You better be quiet..." you whispered in the middle of the kiss, your breaths heaving with each passing second, "you better."

You removed her arms from around her neck and now put them around her waist, and she took hers from around your waist to wrap one around your neck as her hand continued to massage your cock. The kiss gradually warmed up, until your tongues began to intertwine inside your mouths. Yuna let out little moans from time to time, and your cock was already beginning to beg to be free.

One of your hands went to her ass, while the other continued to cling to her perfect waist, pressing your fingers into her creamy flesh. Soon that hand joined the other, and with both you gave her ass a strong squeeze that caused her to bite your lip and separate your lips from hers.

"Enough, I want that cock inside me," she reached with both hands to the button of your pants and undid them, and with a strong yank, she lowered them down to your knees including your boxers.

You complete her work, pulling your pants and boxers down to your ankles to get them off your legs. Already naked from the waist down, you kissed her again and grabbed her by the waist to push her against the wall in front of you, you cornered her against it, and then you made her turn around.

Instinctively she pulled her ass back, pressing it against the back of your cock, but you held her still, and began kissing her long neck as you ran your hands around her waist to reach the button of her pants and undo it, then you unzipped it, and grabbed the curb to lower them right down to her ankles. Your only obstacle now was a white thong, which showed off her wide hips and her round buttocks.

"A thong? I didn't know Shin Yuna was so slutty," you murmured in her ear, and she shuddered. You took two of your fingers between her buttocks and rubbed up and down her pussy, noticing that the fabric was beginning to get wet.

"But you like it, don't you?" she reached back and grabbed your cock, stroking it slowly, "I think he loves it," she looked over her shoulder at you with a smirk.

"You're a pretentious bitch, with all due respect," you rubbed her pussy for a few more seconds until you got tired of teasing. You grabbed the seam of her thong and lowered it roughly, not to mention nearly ripping it off. You made her get out of her pants and panties, and with your foot you dragged them until you left them next to your boxer and your pants.

"I know, I love being reminded," that was the last thing she said before you put your hand over her mouth.

"Spit," you ordered, and so she did, leaving enough saliva in the palm of your hand that you quickly brought it to your cock and rubbed it down the length of it until it was well lubricated. You returned your hand to her mouth, but this time for other reasons. You took your cock with your left hand, and took it between her buttocks to rub it up and down against her slit. Feeling this, she arched her back more and more, leaned her hands against the wall and left her ass at your disposal to do whatever you wanted with it.

You pressed your hand to her mouth firmly, making sure no sound came out of it as you gently pushed your hips forward, slowly leaving the first few inches of your cock inside her suffocatingly tight pussy. That she was going to be silent was all bullshit, at least at first, because as soon as she felt you inside her, she let out a moan that, if it hadn't been for the fact that it was suffocated against your hand, would have been heard throughout the room.

Yuna's entire body tensed, it was being difficult to fully get in due to how tight she was, but you were patient, and leaned back from time to time to push at least another inch inside her. You continued with the same procedure until half of your shaft was inside her, you looked into her eyes, and she just nodded, giving you the green light to make the final move.

You pulled out of her pussy one more time, spit into your hand, and salivated as much as you could on your cock before putting it back inside Yuna. This time you pushed more gently into her, and when you reached the previous point, it was as easy as slowly pushing your hips forward of her until you filled her completely with your flesh. Yuna let out another louder and longer moan, and you had to add another hand to her mouth to make her shut up once and for all.

You stayed inside her for a few seconds without moving, letting her tight walls gradually mold to your cock, and after a few seconds, you began to slowly move your hips back and forth, your cock moving completely in and out of her pussy.

Yuna's brow was furrowed as you fucked her at a slow and careful pace, trying to make as little noise as possible, but as much as you wanted to be quiet, having Shin Yuna pinned against the wall while you fucked her from behind warranted more energy from your part. Making sure you had a tight seal on her mouth with both of your hands, you began to move your hips faster, with thrusts that rocked her body back and forth with each crash of your pelvis against her ass.

You were incredibly tempted to do a lot of things, like pull her hair, or grab onto that pretty little waist while fucking her furiously, but you should have just kept at that pace, not slow but not aggressive either, perfect for a situation where you wanted to turn her crazy but not that crazy

Yuna seemed to remember what she had promised you a few minutes ago, as it was fairly easy for you to suppress her little whimpers of pleasure as you fucked her tight, wet pussy as fast as the situation allowed. That wasn't being enough for you, that's why you pulled her towards you and pressed her back against your chest, from that position it was easy for you to fuck her hard without making noise, and you did, starting to move your hips frantically. Inevitably that led to a double effort on your part to drown out her moans, but you didn't give a single fuck.

You were so immersed in your own pleasure that you did not even realize that a person had entered the dressing rooms, you had not heard the footsteps, but you did hear the knocks against your door. You stopped immediately, and Yuna's eyes widened as she looked towards the door to your left.

"Excuse me miss, is everything okay? You can't be in there that long," said the voice of the worker from the other side of the door.

"A-ah... yes! Everything is fine!" Being a bit bitchy, you continued to fuck her, but this time much more slowly and torturously, "I j-juuust need a couple m-more minutes," she gasped, "t-tell the g-guy that came with me that I-I won't be long."

"He went to the bathroom, miss, but when he gets back I'll tell him."

"Very kind, th-th-thank you."

There was silence, and the next thing you heard was the guy's footsteps walking away from the door, and consequently, from the dressing rooms.

"H-holy fucking shit, oppa..." she squeaked under her breath, looking over her shoulder at you, "that cock feels so… so good."

"And you'll feel better, come here."

You pulled out your cock, made her turn around and wrapped your arms around her slender body to give her an upward lift, she got the message and clung to your torso with her long legs, entwining them behind your back. You held her tight in the air, then leaned her back against the wall to push your cock back into her pussy. She was about to moan out loud, but you crashed your lips against hers in a fiery and deep kiss.

Yuna also grabbed onto your neck with both arms entwined around it, and she played with the hair at the nape of your neck between her fingers as you slammed her pussy against the wall. At this point, the noise you made was enough so that anyone passing near the door could perfectly hear the sound of your crotches colliding, but being prisoners of lust and adrenaline at the moment you didn't even think about it.

You untangled her legs from behind your back and went on to hold them yourself in the air, spreading them wide so you could fuck her pussy from the best possible angle. Yuna moaned like crazy against your mouth, and in response you just kept pumping in and out of her pussy without actually crashing your pelvis against her, but making sure that she felt your entire length go in and out of her pussy.

After a few seconds, Yuna grabbed your shoulders and dug her nails into them while her entire body shuddered in an unannounced orgasm. You held her legs tight while she writhed against the wall, and you didn't stop kissing her or fucking her for a single second.

Her pussy walls clenched around your cock so hard you thought she was going to rip you in half, but it felt so fucking good that you couldn't help but moan against Yuna's lips. Your moans overlapped each other, and you soon felt a tingle in your lower abdomen.

"Y-yuna... I'm going to cum, where-"

"Inside," she interrupted between little whimpers, while she was still past the last shimmers of her orgasm and she was looking into her eyes.

"But... are you sure?" you asked, slowing down the pace of your thrusts a bit.

"I prepared myself for this, idiot, just fucking do it," she sighed, smashing her lips against yours again.

You just let yourself go. You resumed your quick thrusts, clinging as tightly as you could to her legs with your fingers. Her pussy gave way for you, now less tight but wetter for your cock to slide in and out smoothly. It didn't take long for you to reach your peak of pleasure, it only took a few more hard pumps until you exploded inside her tight little pussy. You broke the kiss only to let a small moan into the air, moving slowly as you shot all your hot load into Yuna, who seemed to enjoy it as much as you did to feel the fluids rush inside her.

"Fuck… you came so much, oppa," she whispered, biting your lower lip, "it feels so good inside me."

Gradually you stopped between heavy breaths, and you left your cock inside for a few more seconds until you pulled it out very slowly, and as if it were a drain plug, your cum began to spill from inside her little by little to the ground under you two. You looked down, seeing the pool of thick white liquid that formed on the not at all subtle dark floor.

"I'm not cleaning that up," you murmured, your breath still ragged.

"We don't have to either," she chuckled, "thanks oppa, you already fulfilled one of my fantasies," she said with a smirk, giving you a little kiss on the nose.

"You're welcome, cutie," you finally put her down, and she avoided the best she could step on the cum, "You'll go out first, and you'll have to distract the worker while I go out."

"Understood," she agreed, "I'll take the opportunity to go pay."

"Are you really going to take those designer sandals?" you asked, picking up your pants and boxers to start dressing, "I seem to remember that they're fucking expensive."

"Honey, do you forget who I am?" she asked with the air of a pretentious bitch, you certainly weren't wrong a few minutes ago.

"Okay, I'm sorry my lady," you joked, watching her pull on her panties and then her pants.

"I'll see you outside, oppa," she stood in front of you, placed a hand on your chest and gave you a peck on the cheek, "be discreet, okay?"

"Didn't you forget something?" you asked, glancing at her cap and her mask.

"Oh, yeah, sure," she played dumb, as if she clearly hadn't been about to walk out like that, "don't be long," she said after putting on her mask and cap.

Yuna turned around and opened the door a little to see outside, and seeing that no one was coming, she went out and left you there alone. You waited around 5 or 6 minutes on the clock until you came out too, feeling like Austin Powers in one of his misdeeds. Luckily for you, the people who had entered the changing rooms were already inside their respective cubicles, and none of them had seen you.

You walked out of the hallway, and with your balls in your throat, you peeked out to make sure no one was looking your way. You ran to the other corridor, the one that led to the bathrooms, and you left there as if you had been there all this time. When you walked to the place where you were sitting before, you noticed that Yuna was no longer around, you even peeked over to make sure that she was still paying. You double checked that you had everything on you, wrapped Yuna's coat around your arm and walked out of the store, avoiding all possible eye contact with any worker or person in there.

As expected, Yuna waited for you outside the store patiently, with the bag from the store between her feet and her hands clasped behind her lower back. You quickly ran towards her.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" You looked around, making sure no one was paying too much attention to her, "Put your coat on!" you were probably overreacting, Korea was big enough for everyone in the mall to realize that she was who she was, but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

"Oppa, calm down," she laughed, taking the coat from your arm and putting it on with all the patience in the world, "it's not that easy to get recognized as an idol, besides, I have black hair, I could be any average Korean girl. "

"You have a point, but I don't want to be risky," you took the bag from her, and pulled out your phone to check the time, "Hey, can we go now?"

"Yep, let's go!"

You left the mall in a matter of a few minutes, you went to your car, and you left the Louis Vuitton bag in the back seats. You opened the passenger door for Yuna to get in, and then you also got in to start the car, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards the villa.

"When I drop you off at home tell Yeji to let me know when I can come back, okay?" you said, with your eyes on the highway.

"Oh, do you think the day is over for both of us?" Yuna asked, raising both eyebrows. She had taken off her cap, and she was looking at you with a quizzical expression, "You seem to have forgotten that you almost ate my feet a few minutes ago."

"And you almost didn't put them in my mouth, I think it's your fault too."

"It's just, you see...I really enjoyed our little session when we first met," she placed her hand on your thigh, "and I'd like to repay you well, oppa."

"Oh yeah? And how do you plan to do it?" you made sure you didn't have any cars in front or on the sides before turning to see her.

"I think…" she moved her hand up your thigh a little, near your crotch, "that cock would look really nice between my feet."

You had never stepped on the accelerator so violently in your life, but there was a first time for everything. You drove around 100 km/h on the highway, pulling out all your Baby Driver skills until you hit the road and relaxed your foot. Yuna could only laugh at your despair and sudden interest.

The scene would have been more spectacular if only you hadn't forgotten some crosses, Yuna had to remind you of the way to be able to continue and finally reach the girls' house. You parked the car right in front of the gate, turned it off, and got out to get the bag from the back seats. Yuna beat you to it, and went to open the gate with a remote control that she took out of her back pocket.

"There was a remote control this whole time?!" you asked, closing the back doors, locking the car and walking inside with her.

"Yup, but they were nowhere to find it," she laughed, "it was in my room all this time."

"Damn..." you sighed.

Yuna led the way, and you followed her into the house. You quickly went up to the second floor, and when you went up the stairs, just passing through the corridor was Yeji, who stared at you when you were about to go up to the third floor.

"Don't blame me if I walk in while you're doing it, it's my bedroom too," she warned, then walked out of sight toward the sofa.

"She's kidding, don't worry... or so I think," she hesitated for a moment, "well, follow me."

You followed Yuna up the stairs, took a hallway to the right, and went to one of the doors at the bottom. Yuna opened the door for you, and when you entered, you found a somewhat messy bedroom. There were clothes everywhere on both beds, including panties and bras of all colors and types.

"Did a tornado pass through here or what?" you said, taking a step forward and putting the bag down while Yuna got off her cap, mask and coat.

"Be thankful that we're messy and not dirty, it's just clothes," she got up on one knee on the bed on the right and began to gather all the clothes on top of it into a single pile and then dump it on the floor.

"Is it dirty clothes?"

"... Some," she said, looking down at the pile of clothes, "but let's not waste time on these things, come here, oppa."

She stood facing the bottom edge of the bed, and you closed the distance between the two of you by standing inches from her. You took her by her waist, and she wrapped her arms around your neck before joining your lips in an intense kiss, without intending to be delicate or tender. You planted your dominance from the start, pressing the flesh of her waist between your fingers as you dug deeper into her kiss. Yuna understood that foreplay wasn't even necessary at that point, so she simply sat on the edge of the bed and started undoing your pants once more. She lowered them to your knees, and you helped her off along with your boxers, freeing your still flaccid cock.

Yuna took off her shirt, and then she also took off her bra. Your gaze went straight to her tits, noting that she could very well be Itzy's second biggest after Yeji. You couldn't focus on her pretty tits for much longer as she took your weak cock and began to stroke it slowly.

"Oppa... be patient with me, okay?" she said, looking up, "I've never done this before."

"You don't have to worry, honey," you said, tucking her hair behind her ear and brushing her cheek with your thumb, "go ahead."

"Okay..." she looked down again at your cock, which was slowly starting to get hard thanks to the long fingers of Yuna's hand going up and down.

She leaned forward, and licked her lips before taking the tip of your cock into her mouth. You gasped, feeling the warm relief of her lips sucking slowly until your cock was fully erect. Yuna wrapped her fingers around your base and began to move her mouth little by little towards the middle of your shaft. She looked insecure, you could tell by how she looked into your eyes every few seconds, but the best you could do was nod with your head and keep rubbing her cheek and her hair.

That seemed to give her a little more assurance that she was doing a good job. She took you out of her mouth for a moment to get air, stroking your cock before taking it back inside her. This time she began to move her head at a more fluid and less leisurely pace, never going past the middle of your shaft, but that was enough for her to make you feel pretty good. She didn't give head as well as Yeji or Ryujin, but with a little practice she could become just as good.

During the first minute she dedicated herself to observing you carefully, noticing what movements you liked the most or what she liked that she did, and when she finally studied you, she began to move her head faster in a very messy blowjob. Her pretty pink lips glided smoothly over your hard cock now shiny from her saliva, and you took it upon yourself to let her know you liked it with little moans and facial expressions.

"Try to take more of it cutie..." you gasped, your hand on her head. She hesitated for a moment, but to your surprise, she began to push her head further, and further forward, until her nose was resting against your pelvis, "What the f… holy shit Yuna!" you moaned out loud.

She was able to take your cock down her throat for a few long seconds, but you also noticed that she was struggling as she did so, her face was scrunched up, and she was constantly making gagging sounds. Saliva flowed free from her mouth to her tits, and when she couldn't take it anymore, she took you out of her mouth with a long breath. Your cock was connected to her lips by thin threads of saliva, and you couldn't believe how unbelievably sexy yet cute she looked like that and with the pink bobby pin still attached to the side of her hair.

"Did you like that, oppa?" she said looking into your eyes as she quickly moved your hand up your cock.

"I fucking loved it, how can you do that with no experience?" you asked panting.

"I have a long neck, I don't know if that has anything to do with it," she collected the saliva from her lips with her free hand and returned it to your cock, stroking it with both hands.

"Honestly, I have no fucking idea, but come here, you deserve your due special attention, honey," you grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from your cock. Then you took her by her waist, and you made her get closer to the center of the bed and lie down on it.

You took off your jacket and hoodie, leaving yourself completely naked before climbing into bed with her. You placed yourself on top of her body, your two hands on either side of it. You lowered your face towards her neck, giving her small kisses and licks and slowly going down her attractive and marked clavicle. You stood there for a moment, but the two well-formed round mounds below caught your attention. Your mouth went right to one of her tits, sucking and licking her hard nipple while your hand massaged her other boob. Yuna moaned under her breath, and tangled her fingers in your hair as you now slowly lowered from the middle of her breasts to her abdomen. At that point, you made sure to spread a good amount of kisses all over her tummy and waist, and as you reached her lower abdomen, you used your hands to undo her pants, unzip them, and grab the hem of her pants and her panties, lowering both garments slowly until they were off her legs. Now both you and Yuna were completely naked in front of each other.

"Will you give me my special service, oppa?" she asked, biting her index finger, and picking up both of her legs to leave both of her feet in the air right in front of your face.

"Count on it, honey," you grabbed her by both ankles, and brought her feet up to your face to stick one of them directly into your mouth. You sucked on her toes one by one, placing special emphasis on her big toe. You used your tongue to salivate them and lick them all over, and once you were satisfied with one foot, you went straight through with the other to repeat the process.

With both feet salivated, you moved on to the second phase, which was to spread deep, wet kisses along her soles, the sides of her feet, and her ankles as well. You kept worshiping her feet for a few more minutes, until you began to move from her feet to her thighs, passing first through her tibia and her knee.

She instinctively spread her legs wide for you, revealing her pretty, shiny pussy. Your cock was more than ready to go in there one more time, but you had to hold back. You lowered your face until you were right in front of her slit, but that wasn’t your goal for now, but to plant more kisses both on the inside of her thighs and on the bottom, not resting until they were wet from your saliva.

Yuna let you have as much fun as you wanted with her pretty long legs, and so you did, even going so far as to kiss her just inches from her pussy, which was screaming to be eaten. After distributing a few more kisses, you stood up to take her by her ankles again, bring them together in front of you and begin to massage her feet slowly.

"Tell me, miss, do you want your pussy well eaten?" you asked, looking into her eyes and noticing that her face was slightly flushed, "or do you prefer a big cock that fills you up."

"I'm tempted by both options, sir," she played along, while you kept pressing your thumbs on her sole and on the back of her foot, "but I already tried one today, I'd prefer the other option."

"As you wish, ma'am," you released her feet, separated her legs, and leaned forward while holding onto her thighs.

You breathed hot breath over her wet pussy, causing Yuna to shiver a little on her mattress. You played with her for a few more seconds, kissing and licking the contours of her slit until you finally planted your tongue flat between her folds, giving her a slow upward lick that made her moan.

After the first lick you began to move your tongue slowly up and down, tasting her silky folds to give her clit a very light suction. Yuna grabbed your hair and started moaning constantly. You kissed far and wide without stopping to use your tongue for a single moment, Yuna's fingers got tangled in your strands, and you responded by licking her pussy faster now.

In no time you were eating Shin Yuna's delicious pussy for dinner. You focused on her clit right away, giving it frantic lashes with your tongue. Her moans quickly turned into squeals of pleasure, and she began to arch her back every time you touched one of her sensitive spots. You looked up, watching her chest heave up and down as she played with her own tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples.

You pressed your fingers harder against the flesh of her thighs, making sure she didn't move them for a single second despite the fact that she had already had some prior reflexes. Her adorable whines were music to your ears. You continued to attack her clit with the tip of your tongue, occasionally dipping down her folds to collect her delicious fluids. You decided to stick a bit of your tongue inside her entrance, and as soon as you did, she let out a louder squeal. Noticing that she had enjoyed it, you left your tongue inside her and began to move it in circles as fast as you could. Yuna pulled your hair so hard you thought she was going to rip it out, and it wasn't long before she exploded in your mouth.

Yuna squirmed like a rag doll on the bed, and you held her tightly against the mattress so that her pussy wouldn't move away from your mouth while you stuck your tongue out of her and licked her folds from top to bottom. You didn't stop eating her pussy, you just lowered the intensity considerably until her orgasm gradually reduced her spasms, that's when you released her thighs, which she simply dropped to each side of your body.

You gave her pussy a few more licks, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, and straightened up to meet her eyes.

"Satisfied, ma'am?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll be more satisfied when you use my legs and feet to cum, oppa..." she muttered between heavy breaths, seeing your hard cock still sticky from her saliva.

You didn't even think twice before grabbing her legs and putting her on her side. You lifted her left leg, spit on your cock, letting it rest against her right leg, then lowered the leg you'd lifted back down to leave your shaft in a smooth sandwich of soft flesh. Yuna looked into your eyes, bit her lower lip and looked down, seeing the tip of your cock slightly protruding from between her thighs.

Without taking too much time you began to rock your hips back and forth, letting your cock slide completely in and out of her between her pretty, perfect thighs. You left your left hand clinging to her small waist, and the other went straight for her boob, which was starting to jiggle as your thrusts got faster and faster.

Her thighs definitely made your cock absolutely nothing to miss from her pussy, it was just as tight and soft but in a different way that was also driving you fucking crazy. Your hand squeezed her breast firmly, while your thrusts began to shake her from front to back thanks to the impact of your pelvis against her thighs.

With each of your pumps your cock also rubbed her wet pussy with the left side of it, which added an extra bit of utter and pure pleasure to your senses. You let go of her breast and her waist, only to grab her ass cheek and give it a hard squeeze, followed by a spicy spank that made her squeal. You kept your hand on her ass as you continued to use Yuna's legs for your own pleasure, and it felt so good that you closed your eyes and moaned.

"Use my feet oppa… use my feet and cum on them," she pleaded between gasps.

You did not answer anything and you limited yourself to comply with her wishes (which were also yours). You stopped the thrust of your hips and pulled your cock out from between her thighs, grabbed her around her waist and made her lie on her stomach. Yuna propped herself up on her elbows and looked over her shoulder at you, lifting her feet to place them both around your throbbing cock. Once again you spit on your hand, but this time to bring it to her feet and make them as slippery as possible.

You grabbed both of her feet and held them together, pressed against your cock to resume your frantic hip swings. Your cock slid in a very fucking hot way between her sexy feet, and both you and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Your hands couldn't go anywhere else but her feet, but you didn't care, having that perfect view of her wide ass, her hot back and her lust-filled face was more than enough to complement your ecstasy.

Her pretty feet served as your cock sleeve for the next two minutes, and between strong and intense thrusts, you began to feel blood rushing against your cock. You pumped a few more between the soles of her until you quickly stopped and pulled your shaft out of there, keeping a grip on her ankles with one hand while with the other you quickly jerked your cock off.

"That's right, oppa… give my little princess feet all your cum, please!" she moaned, watching as your hand quickly rubbed your cock.

As soon as she finished that sentence you exploded, releasing thick, hot streams of white liquid directly onto her now slightly red feet. You moaned out loud and closed your eyes for just a second as you emptied your balls between her toes and her sole. You opened your eyes again when the last jets came out of your tip, seeing Yuna's feet painted white everywhere. Your breathing was agitated. You released her ankles, and let your cock rest throbbing against her toes.

You two were silent for a few long seconds, where only both heavy breaths could be heard, when suddenly the bedroom door opened. Yuna was startled, but you were so exhausted that you didn't even flinch.

"Oops, sorry guys," Yeji apologized, walking between the beds to open a drawer in the nightstand and take out a charger, "Uh, you want toilet paper, a wet wipe, anything?"

"You could clean my cock with your mouth, right?" you asked rather boldly, raising your head to look at her sideways.

"I would, but it would lead to other things, and I don't have time for that right now darling," she wailed, then turned to Yuna, "Did you enjoy your feet being used, you little slut?"

"Shut up and give me the wet wipes, please," Yuna whined, her face flushed red between pleasure and embarrassment.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming, don't be a crybaby," she went to a hairdresser they had in the bedroom and took the packet of wet wipes to toss it to one side of you, "Oh, by the way," she saw you, hand on the doorknob, "you can stay the night if you want, our manager won't come tomorrow and we'll watch a movie."

"But I didn't bring any more clothes..."

"So what? You can walk around naked if you want, none of us will care."

"Well, if you say so," you sighed, taking a wet washcloth and beginning to clean Yuna's feet as Yeji left the room.

"I really thought she wasn't going to come in here, what a bitch..."

"Are you satisfied now, ma'am?" you asked, now using another wet wipe for the same job.

"Quite a lot, oppa," she nodded with a wide grin, "but... can you come kiss me?"

"As you wish," you put the wet wipes aside, and went to lie down next to her body. You wrapped your arms around her body, brushed a few strands of hair from her face, and pressed your lips against hers, beginning with a kiss that would last for at least twenty more minutes.

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Spren Notes:

Here's a treat for the little jerk who insulted and annoyed me by asking me for a "part two" for Post Stress Therapy. Oh right, I blocked him lmao.

I have nothing to add here, but this is a special gift for the most die-hard lovers of Yuna's legs and feet ;).

If you, dear reader, are interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

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