#anyway the third one (not dating them) is the dom in the scene and is Ignoring them entirely

[beepbeepbithc]

putting our ocs through a Scene together,, and it is so much fun. i am thinking abt it so much and i love it. it’s so good, they deserve it

[satorhime]

press play.

ଘ pairing: fushiguro toji x female reader ଘ genre: smut, husband!toji, housewife!reader ଘ word count: est. 3.4k ଘ beware: fushiguro toji’s third housewife arc, masturbation (reader), fingering, sex toys, teasing, degradation, edging, pussy slapping, dom!toji, sub!reader

ଘ synopsis: if fushiguro toji wants his rules to be followed, he should really think about being around to enforce them.  ଘ request:  anonymous asked: HI LOLLYYY! if your asks/reqs are open (and if ure not busy) can i ask for some husband!toji smuttt 😩 so I'm thinking like he caught y/n playing with themselves because he was often away and was so needy SO toji 'punished' y/n by either overstimulation or edging OR both 😼🤲 with a hint of teasing and a bit mean toji >:(

ଘ notes:  this is apart of my fushiguro toji’s third housewife arc and set in the same verse as rapport (read it here), but you don’t need to read that fic to read this one!!! sorry for literally edging you in this LMAOOO, but i hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy MUAH <3333 reblogs and comments are much loooved!!

your husband rarely comes home at all, that’s why you do it. why you break, according to him, his most important rule. it’s an unfair one anyway, you think. wicked and terrible and cruel thing to implement in a neglected wife’s brain, especially when the husband’s bouts of absences can stretch weeks into long months without contact, leaving you to follow his “rules” at home because you’re obedient— pleased to see him pleased. after all, it’s your fault he even had to enforce that shit. 

but toji’s recent change of heart, being softer on you, sweeter to you, has you spoiled. stubborn and frustrated when you’re aching, when your needs aren’t met. 

you blame it on a text message. 

safe and sound in the bedroom in your apartment, you’re curled up on toji’s side of the bed with your feet in soft, cozy thigh-high socks. his pillow tucked comfortably under your chin as you tap buttons on the screen of your phone, eyes glued to the otome you’re playing. the handsome love interest is stammering out a proposal to your character, on one knee and everything. the scene is too sugary, full of love and devotion, while your own had been much different. but you click ‘yes’ anyway, the scene switching to a colorful cg of the couple sharing a passionate kiss; you grumble about having to spend 120 diamonds on the choice when your phone cheerfully announces a notification, the little bubble dropping down. 

big worm zaddy ♡ now text message  unlock for more

the contact name annoys toji so much, but it’s a relic from the early days of your dating and makes you giggle every time you read it so there’s no convincing you to change it. making sure your game is saved, you tap the notification hurriedly to open the chat with your real husband, wondering what he sent. 

                                       big worm zaddy ♡ ▸            won’t be home 2nite doll got a good feelin bout this race

of course, of course. when you’re used to not seeing him for months, a night away is a quick trip around the clock. a miniscule amount of time, really, but that doesn’t stop the sinking pit of disappointment that settles heavy in your heart, a sickening pain that you have to press your hand against and rub the spot to soothe it away. it’s different when he’s cities away from you on a contract— somehow, you miss him even more knowing that he’s in the same city and would rather prowl the back streets of tokyo or bet down big like a high roller at a horse race, than be home with you. blame it on the otome for making you crave the touch of your own lover.

you respond immediately with okay, good luck on not losing this time <3 and you’re about to exit out of the thread, return to your little visual novel fantasy, when the black thumbnail of an attachment sent by your husband months ago catches the corner of your curious gaze. 

sliding the volume to low, you know exactly what the attachment is. 

you press play.

“bet you think you’re real fuckin’ cute, huh?” 

on your screen, the video is still ink black and you’re only watching your own reflection, but the sound of toji’s gruff voice is clear, irritated with uncontained anger and a hint of frustration he only gets when he’s in a mood. 

“think you can fucking play with me while i’m making money? look at what you did,” he accuses, and the deep sound of his gravelly voice makes you instantly shift in your seat. 

the video continues and you hear shuffling, the clink of a belt unbuckling as he moves. this isn’t the first time you’ve watched this clip and it won’t be the last, but that doesn’t deter your want to swallow your now dry tongue, from whimpering when toji shifts the camera down, your husband sitting in a chair inside an unknown hotel room, legs spread out wide. he’s got his big fingers, blood splattered and knuckles split from his latest victim, wrapped around the thick root of his cock, painfully hard and flushed an upset red. 

the work of the video you sent him. in the middle of his contract. 

oh, you instantly regret opening this attachment. you should go back to playing your otome and be a good girl, like toji wants; you know that if you continue watching the minute and forty-five second video of toji being fucking filthy, you’re sure to break his dumb rule. but how can you stop when you miss him so bad? when he should be home with you, playing with your hair or scolding you or fucking you to tears right here in this spot? when it takes one look at his cock on the screen for an ache in your belly to set in, heat curling low and instant in your pussy. 

you think that if fushiguro toji wants his rules to be followed, he should really think about being around to enforce them. 

toji won’t be coming home tonight, and that’s why you briefly pause the video. sitting up to slide your pajama shirt over your head, toss it aside before relaxing against the pillows. your heart beats a nervous rhythm against your ribs as you skim your finger over a bare nipple, attempting to replicate the rough pinch of toji’s touch; a soft gasp leaving your lips as the little bud pebbles up as you twist it hard. 

next are your panties, ass lifting from the mattress to slide the quite modest fabric from your hips, kicking them off your ankles with a little sigh. so content as you open your pussy to the air, the cool breeze from the air conditioner hitting your clit and making you wince from sensitivity. 

you feel so heated, feverish in your devious choice to defy your husband’s wishes— even though, in the back of your mind, you know you’re doing nothing wrong. giving pleasure to yourself is a natural thing for a woman to do, especially with an absent lover. and plus, you’re doing it to a video of him. who cares if you reach into the drawer of your nightstand, digging and digging to retrieve your toy buried under crumpled receipts, pens, and old phone chargers. 

pressing the toy gently to your tongue, you suck it into your mouth to wet it for your pussy. you know the toy doesn’t hold a candle to the heavy weight of toji’s cock, but the pastel pink dildo is fat and on the shorter side with a nice set of ridged veins that steals your breath all the same, an impulse buy from a sex shop your friend works at. when you didn’t give a damn about his rule. 

and you don’t give a damn about it right now either, you think defiantly as you pull the toy out of your mouth, not wanting to waste another second on prep. 

unpausing the video, your eyes are glued to the screen once again. breath stuttering as you watch— toji gets a good grip and slaps his dick harsh against the hard planes of his abdomen, shirt rucked up and you imagine the hem of it clenched between his teeth. your throat feels so fucking dry, clit beating in a needy throb as you can wait no longer, shaky hand guiding the toy between your legs, jerking at the first touch of cool silicone against your heated folds.

you know what comes next— you’ve watched the video too many times not to — your husband holds the phone steady as he leans over and spits, dropping a thick wad over the top of his cock before he drags a hand up in a rough jerk to spread the bubbly mixture with a long grunt that makes your cunt pulse with want. 

“knew i shouldn’t have married a little whore like you,”  he hisses to the camera and you whimper at his words, tapping the head of the dildo against your clit before you drag it down to your cunt. “you sent that shit right when i was about t’ put my sword through that motherfucker’s back, fuck. fuck.” 

his voice is rough, burning with anger and arousal. you remember it clearly— his target getting away and you being the indirect cause of it; he’d been too cocky, whipping out his phone and watching the video at full volume of you on your belly, fucking yourself on four fingers and screaming his name. and while he was mesmerized, his target got the fuck out of there, with bloody and fatal injuries but getting away all the same. after that, toji’s rule was born like an unwanted child. 

he continues to spit curses at you on the video and you’re not able to wait any longer, nudging the dildo against your dripping center. sucking in a deep breath when you force the fat head inside without prep, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls greedily suck the toy inside, your legs jerking open a little further. 

“oh-oooh.. oh— fuck,” you whine out, the weight of the toy stretching through your walls punching the air from your chest. you feel dizzy, but you keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss the rough jerk of toji’s hand over his cock as you drag the dildo out, slamming it back inside with enough force to make the muscles in your arm ache. 

it feels so good to be stretched out and fucked slow by a fat cock after so long  — even if it can’t compare to toji, you still moan at the burn it creates when you clench hard around it. you circle your hips, grinding your clit desperately against the flared base of the toy as you fuck yourself slow on the silicone, little whimpers and cries torn from your throat. 

you can’t believe how worked up you are, knowing it won’t take long for you to cum. you can feel the ache in your belly fit to burst as you work the toy in and out of your cunt, feeling the hard ridges drag against the soft of your walls. eyes bleary, you try to focus on the video playing on the screen. the filthy, slick sound of toji fucking up into his hand rough and quick in his rhythm makes you burn inside out. 

“i’m— toji i’m gonna—” you breathe his name even though he can’t hear you, your stomach caving as you clench, knowing that it’ll take one more thrust of your hand to send you over the edge. an embarrassingly quick end to your fucking as you dig your toes into the duvet for purchase, desperate and needy as your orgasm builds and builds and—

“you fucking jinx,” a voice splits through your pleasure, loud and booming, followed by the violent slam of a door. a greeting that scares years from your life because of course, you weren’t expecting anyone. big footsteps stop right where the closed bedroom door should be, but you left it wide open since you didn’t plan on ending up like this. “... what the fuck are you doin’?” 

it takes a second for your confusion to clear, your mind glazed over with lust. takes one more second to realize toji is standing at the threshold to your bedroom and it’s not a figment of your fucked out imagination from watching homemade porn. ( that’s still playing, by the way. ) oh no, he’s actually there. muscular, corded arms crossed over his barrel chest and a frown like thunder cutting across his expression, the scar slashed over his lip pulled taut and making him look that more menacing. 

your hand immediately pauses between your legs, embarrassed out of your mind as you scramble to cover yourself and slam your legs shut— why did you throw your panties over there— and oh, where the fuck is your shirt?

“t-toji, you’re—? you said you wouldn’t be home!” 

of course, you would be so unlucky. 

toji scoffs, expression darkening even further as if he caught you with another man; he steps further inside the room and you shrink, watching with wary eyes as he stops at his side of the bed, where you’re rudely dripping slick on his side of the sheets. “as soon as you sent that fuckin’ text, the horse blew a hoof or somethin’. lost right then and there.” 

“that horse is so ancient, toji. i don’t know why you keep—” 

“don’t change the subject,” he growls, dragging his sleazy gaze down the naked length of your body, settling between your shut legs; locking on the thick of the dildo still caught deep inside your cunt. “asked you a question, didn’t i?” 

your heart drops at the familiar edge in his tone, your pussy clenching around the dildo with a quiet whimper you hope he doesn’t catch. 

(oh, he does.) 

“you said you wouldn’t be home and i was so needy, i needed—” what can you say to him? you were watching that video again so you needed to be fucked? you realize how desperate you sound, so you hush. 

“you broke my rule,” he tilts his head as green eyes darken almost to brown, gaze flicking up to your face. your cheeks heat up at the disappointment lacing his words, knowing he’s doing it on purpose. “first you make me lose my fuckin’ race, now you’re breaking my rules? fucking yourself on another— gimme that shit—” toji wraps a hand around your ankle, squeezing tight as he forces one leg to spread apart, reaching down to rip the dildo out of your pussy so quick that your thighs slam together. 

“ow, what the—” 

“this what you replacing me with when i’m gone? pathetic,” he teases, inspecting the toy covered in your juices with a sneer on his lips. mortified is an understatement, he has you feeling like a teenager whose parents just discovered porn in your browsing history and not a grown fucking woman whose husband just walked in the room to you touching yourself. “breakin’ the rules for a shrimp dick. you know what happens next, yeah doll? get your ass up and c’mere.” 

toji sits down on the edge of the bed heavy, almost making you roll towards him. 

you bite your lip, the sound of him being jealous over a toy should make him look ridiculous, but his teasing only serves to make your cunt throb. “toji, what do you want me to do when you’re gone all the time?” 

“to be thankful when you do get my dick, brat. come here, i said.” he grunts, brooking no argument as his patience is ran thin. he doesn’t wait for you to crawl into his lap; trades your ankle for your arm, manhandling your body into his control. you feel like a rag doll held by a puppeteer as he throws you across his thick thighs, the bone of his knee digging uncomfortably into your soft stomach. 

you can’t breathe because yes, you do know what he’s about to do. you also know that it’ll hurt so good you almost begin to anticipate it. wriggling on his lap, you stick your ass high in the air, slick pussy on display for him to get a good look at. toji groans, almost thanking that stupid fucking horse for blowing the race and sending him home. “good girl.” 

“did you cum, princess?” he demands, his hands prying the cheeks of your ass open, eyes trained on your cunt before he sucks in his cheeks and spits, a white glob of spit right down the seam of your lips. “answer me.” 

“nuh-no, no i didn’t— toji, please. not tonight, i’ll be good please—” 

“begging me for what? you fuck yourself without my permission and you think i’m gonna give you what you want?” he answers, mocking you in a nasty tone that makes you whine. toji thinks for a moment, smearing his spit over your slit with his thumb. “since you didn’t cum, ‘m thinking five.” 

you start squirming, you won’t be able to take it, but toji doesn’t let you budge. he grips your wrists in one huge, bruising fist; pinning them behind your back. leaving you helpless, to do nothing but press your cheek into the duvet while he rears his hand back and delivers one stinging slap to your cunt, dragging a pained little cry from your throat. the burn only lingers for a second because toji uses his fingers to explore the seam of your pussy, soothing the sting with pets and strokes that leave you panting, wanting more. 

“shoulda known you’d like that, little slut,” he kisses his teeth in disappointment, but that doesn’t stop his movements— spreading your folds to nudge not one, not two, but three thick fingers against the opening of your cunt. the girth of his fingers being bigger than your dildo makes you sweat, toji chuckling dark and twisted when you buck your hips back, trying to push yourself onto his fingers greedily. “look at you.” 

he holds you there, poking and prodding your entrance, straight laughing at the way your hole clenches in desperation to be stuffed by him— any part of him. until his arm flexes and his fingers fuck into you at a brutal pace, not giving you any time to adjust, stretching you open in a way that no toy can replicate.

“t’ rough, toji— it’s too much! it’s—” your breath knocks out of you in a startled cry, tears prickling your eyes and your hips wriggling away from the violence he beats between your legs with his hand alone, but it’s no use when toji’s got your arms pinned, catching onto your orgasm just under the surface. no need to touch your clit when he’s fucking you towards a rapid, nasty end.

“not happenin’,” he sneers with a sadistic grin stretched across his lips and tears spill out of your eyes as he shatters your orgasm, breaking your pleasure into a million pieces. his fingers stop moving inside of you altogether, teetering you right on the edge of pleasure.  “that’s one.”

how long does it last? how long does toji have you spread over his lap, legs wide and cunt dripping so much juice it spreads all over the back of your pretty thigh-high socks. longer than five, like he promised. toji edges you until you’re fucking sobbing, until you beg to be let go; promise to never fuck yourself without him at home again.

at some point, he swipes the pink dildo from where he tossed it on the bed and wets it up in your slick before he pushes it inside so fast you scream into the mattress, mouth stuffed full of the duvet like a feral little whore. toji fucks you with that cock like it’s his own, silicone stretching your walls out in a rough  fucking that builds your orgasm quick to bursting, then—

he rips the dildo out of you again and you feel faint, your pussy oversensitive and puffy from his torture. “please let me cum, please please please. i can’t anymore, i can’t toji please—” you babble desperately, spitting the duvet out of your mouth, trying to turn your head to meet his dark gaze.

“gimme the right count and i’ll let you cum, then,” he grins big, running a torturous finger up your slit to circle the pad of it around your little bundle of nerves, making you moan softly but it’s not enough to make you cum. you need to be filled and he knows it. “c’mon, princess.”

“w-what? i don’t remember—”

“count or i’ll hold it over your head until you fuckin’ pass out. think i won’t?”

“o-okay,” your mind is so hazy, but you want to cum more than you want the air you breathe so you try to think, think, think, think.  “t-ten.”

“wrong,” he mocks, the smile slashed over his lips is downright malicious. “it was nine, pretty doll.” 

oh, god. 

then he nudges the dildo to your entrance again, unrelenting as he fucks it back into you. your eyes are wide, mouth parted on a moan as toji makes good on his promise. 

not the one where he lets you cum, no, but the one where he holds your orgasm over your head for the rest of the fucking night. 

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.  warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”  

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened.  “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch. 

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive. 

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still. 

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[nyctophilin]

Fake affection | I

sweet anon: Can I request a dom! Han Jisung smut? Where he and the reader are fake dating because Jisung want's to make someone jealous but ends up fucking the reader instead? I love your writings so much!!

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Epilogue

Description: Han Jisung has been rejected by the girl he likes one to many times. He decides that he has had enough and is set on making her want him back. What could possibly make her want him more than seeing him with her rival after she boldly assumed he can’t find anyone better. That way Jisung and Y/N are stuck in a fake relationship until Jisung’s crush falls for him. Or he falls for someone else.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Han x fem!Reader, Hyunjin x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre: College!AU, Fake dating!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: swearing, mention of masturbation

A/N: Wow, so it looks like I am unable of making short fics, haha. I planed for this to be a one-shot but it’s already this long and I don’t want to bore you guys with long fics so I will make a second part and a third if needed but I doubt. I really hope you guys like this one. Feedback is very much appreciated.

      Y/N was tapping her finger on the desk, her head resting in her palm. She was watching the professor walk around in front of the class explaining something but she wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was filled with thoughts about whether or not she was going to get the role. 

      Some people from her university that were majoring in Film Production had to write a script for a short movie and the best five got chosen to be produced. Initially, she believed that only Theater and Film Majors could participate at the auditions but the administration of the school made an announcement one morning informing them that everyone could take part in the audition process. That meant she had to deal with more competitors for the role she wanted.

      Initially, Y/N was the only one who wanted to audition for the main role of one of the movies since people didn’t really catch its concept that well. When the audition day finally came, one Modern Dance major showed up out of nowhere and auditioned as well. The apparition of that particular character made her blood boil with anger.

      Her competitor for the role was none other than Mina, her so-called enemy. They weren’t enemies in the real sense of the word. They just simply didn’t click with one another and silently agreed a long time ago to ignore each other. They weren’t pulling childish stunts on each other, they didn’t speak each other's names unless necessary, they didn’t try to win each other in grades or parties or body counts. They were just mutually ignoring one another. And everything was fine until she showed up there.

      Y/N wasn’t going to lie and say that Mina wasn’t good. Her performance wasn’t exceptional but for someone that has never done that before, she was fairly good. That had her worried about her chances of getting chosen.

      When the bell finally rang ending her suffering she got up in the split of a second and left the room. She could not bear to hear any more of the professor’s babbling. Her boots let out quiet thuds every time they touched the concrete floors. She found herself in front of the announcement board but the paper that was supposed to tell her if she got chosen or not, was missing. Thinking to herself that they probably will put it up later she turned on her heels and made her way towards the cafeteria.

      She met her friend Hayoon there and they sat down at a table situated in the centre of the cafeteria. They talked about how they had been up until then and Hayoon complained about one of her classes and how she’s going to fail it.

      The chatter in the cafeteria died down when the door was slammed open and Mina stomped in, a bitter expression on her face. “I can not believe that they made me a stunt double! What does that even mean?” Her voice was louder than it should have been as she addressed her friends. Her intention was most probably to attract attention.

      A smirk crept on Y/N’s face as she realised that she did, in fact, get the main role. She gave her friend a suggestive eyebrow raise as she slowly took the chopstick to her mouth. Her face dropped when she heard the stomping approaching her. “Hey, loser, what’s a stunt double?” Mina’s voice was scratching her ears. How she managed to sound like one of those toys for dogs sometimes, she’ll never understand.

��     “I can’t believe you’ve auditioned for a role without knowing what a stunt double is.” Y/N rolled her eyes at the other girl and a few people from around them chuckled. Mina’s face caught a crimson colour as the embarrassment settled in.

      “Haha, you are so funny!” It was clear by now that the girl was trying to mask her flustered form by trying to embarrass Y/N back.

      The truth was that she didn’t mean to make fun of her. She just let her first thoughts leave her mouth. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” A sigh left her lips. “A stunt double is a person that executes all the dangerous or action scenes for the main actor so they don’t get injured. Stunt doubles are usually gymnasts, people that know martial arts and all that jazz. They probably chose you because of your dance background.”

      “I can’t believe it. Not only they didn’t give me the role, but they are also going to use me to protect you?” Mina had an annoyed expression.

      “Oh please! Did you really think they were going to choose you? You entered that room without even knowing the concept and somehow managed to get the feel right a couple of times. Meanwhile, some of us actually prepared for that audition.” Y/N was fed up with Mina’s princess behaviour. Always thinking that everything is rightfully hers and expecting everyone to kiss her ass. All that just because her father was donating a big sum of money to the university every term. They are donations at the end of the day and she should not be expecting special treatment just for that.

      Mina’s face became a crimson red for the second time in ten minutes and she stomped away from Y/N’s table. The few people that were watching them averted their eyes when Y/N took a look around.

      From the corner of the cafeteria, someone was watching them with a smirk on their face. Oh, how he got just the perfect idea.

            Y/N sat in the second closest row to the professor. She was in “Canto class” as she liked to call it. It was one of the optional classes she chose to take that year. It wasn’t a compulsory class for Theater and Film majors since you don’t necessarily have to know how to sing to be an actress but she took it anyway because she thought it would be fun. And so far it was.

      A loud bang invaded her left ear and she turned to find Han Jisung having his back to her and chatting with his friends that were seated a few rows behind them. She raised her eyebrow but didn’t question it. It wasn’t like the seat was occupied and she definitely had nothing against him sitting next to her. He probably just wanted to pay more attention since he and his friends are always distracted during class. 

      Y/N turned back to her stuff and opened her notebook to take another look at the notes from last class. Soon after the professor entered the classroom and the chatter died down. 

      She was vigorously writing in her notebook everything the professor was explaining to them. Suddenly she felt a touch on her left elbow and stopped for a second. She immediately resumed her writing, convinced that he probably did that by mistake. Not even a minute later she felt another touch on her elbow this time more evident. She ignored it again not paying much mind to it. Jisung’s elbow collided with hers causing her to push her notebook and scribble on it.

      She snapped her head towards him and felt anger overcome her when she noticed the smirk on his face. “What?” She whispers yelled in his direction.

      “Hi!” He did a short wave of his hand in her direction and she clenched her jaw. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going back to her note-taking. She had only five minutes of peace before he poked her side again. She smacked his hand away from her and continued to mind her own business.

      Throughout the class, Jisung kept bothering her and trying to talk to her despite her obvious wish to let her take notes. When the bell rang she got up quickly, her blood boiling and left the room in a hurry hoping she could lose Jisung on the busy halls. As she was hurriedly making her way between the sea of people she felt an arm going over her shoulders and she crashed with the owner of the arm.

      “Why are you in such a hurry babe?” Jisung’s voice rang in her ear as they were practically glued to each other. She grabbed his hand and swung his arm away from her shoulders.

      “For the love of God, what do you want from me Han Jisung?” Exasperation was present in her voice as she threw him an ugly look.

      She couldn’t guess what he needed from her to annoy her to that extent. They were acquaintances and nothing more. They knew each other from that one class they shared and the longest interaction they had was when the professor prepared an interactive class once and they had to work in groups of five.

      He was the university’s “heartthrob” as people liked to call him. Y/N personally thought that that title should be given to Hwang Hyunjin who was majoring in Modern Dance. He was more mature than the rest of his friends, he was friendly with everyone and wasn’t pulling pranks on innocent people to entertain some brainless creatures. But who was she to oppose the masses?

      On top of doing all those things, Jisung was also in a relationship with Mina. Every time they are together they will target someone and will start making fun of them. More Mina than Jisung but he was still entertaining her actions and that made him as guilty as she was.

      “I need to ask you something. Or better, make you a proposal.” He winked at her and she felt an uncomfortable shiver run through her. How disgusting.

      “Ok, and what is it?” She threw him an expectant look and he started looking around.

      “Let’s talk outside where there are fewer people. You got a free period, right?” Confusion made its way on her face.

      “How do you know that? Are you weirdo following me?” She has never talked with him as friends and they share only one class. How on earth would he know her schedule?

      “What? No! I see you hanging out around the university all the time after our class.” She rolled her eyes at his answer and gestured her hand towards the closest exit out of the building signalling him to lead the way.

      Very soon they were seated on a bench under a tree somewhere behind the university. It was her first time coming there. Y/N usually liked to remain at the front of the building since couples usually liked to come there and make out sometimes even fuck.

      “I think we should start dating.” He blurted out and she froze for a second before jumping to her feet startling the man.

      “I knew you were fucking weird. I’m leaving!” What in the actual fuck did she think when she came here. For a second she expected a real conversation but Jisung’s main skills were flirting and making bad jokes. She set her expectations way too high for that conversation.

      She picked her bag from the bench and started leaving only to have Jisung grab her wrist and stop her. “Wait, let me explain. I swear you’ll understand better after.” Y/n wanted to turn and leave but the puppy dog eyes he gave her made her stay and listen to him. Now, don’t get her wrong, his expression didn’t soften her but if he was desperate enough to try the puppy eyes on her then it must be important to him.

      She plopped down on the bench and waited for him to start talking. “Look, I’m pretty sure you know Mina. And I know you two aren’t on great terms. I say we date so you can get back at her for all the things she has done to you.” He raised his eyebrows at her and pursed his lips.

      Y/N was the one that raised her eyebrow next as she leaned her head to the side. “Aren’t you and Mina dating?” 

      “Obviously not.” Jisung used a tone that pissed Y/N off. A tone that said ‘It was so obvious, how can you not know?’ and she didn’t like it one bit.

      “Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have read the signs the wrong way. I mean, it's not like you are always together and you carry her backpack around and you hang out outside of school six days out of seven and kiss before classes and make out behind the university probably right on this bench.”

      A smirk appeared on Jisung’s face. “Who’s following who now?”

      “Don’t flatter yourself. Mina’s voice is so annoying I could hear her every time she talked. When I would turn to see what was up now you two were most times engaged in some sort of PDA.” She spoke fast trying to prove that she wasn’t following him. She didn’t know why she felt the need to do that but the thought of Jisung thinking that she has some sort of interest in him was terrifying. He completely humiliated the last “unpopular” girl that confessed her feelings to him and at that moment the last thing she needed was for him to go around saying she is a stalker.

      “Well, we are getting there. I asked her out and she said that she’ll love to but it’s too fun to tease me. When I asked her ‘What if I get a girlfriend?’ she told me I can not find anyone better for me than her. When I saw you fighting in the cafeteria earlier I knew I found my perfect girl. Not only are you hot, but she also hates you.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words.

      “Hot?” Her tone was untrusting as this was the first time someone from uni had said that to her. 

      “Yeah. You didn’t think that guys came to last year’s theatre spectacles because they were actually interested in theatre, right?” A laugh left his mouth at her dumbfounded face as she registered his words. A blank expression adorned her face immediately after trying not to seem so surprised.

      “Well, not anymore.” She let her tongue trace her bottom lip before biting the flesh. “Ok, so tell me what you actually want us to do.” Uneasiness settled inside Jisung as he watched her bored face.

      “Well, I mean what I said. We should date. Or fake dating if you will. That way I can make Mina jealous and push her to run into my arms. I bet she can’t stand seeing me with you for too long.” He looked into her eyes hopefully thinking that maybe he convinced her but his hope was quickly shattered when she opened her mouth.

      “What are you? Five? I don’t want to get back at her and I have absolutely no reason to help you in your sick plan. I’m out of here!” Once again she picked up her bag to leave only for Jisung to grab her wrist and stop her, again.

      “Please Y/N! I’m desperate. I’ve been trying to date her for a year and a half already.” That was pathetic. She had absolutely no reason to help him. None at all. But something pushed her to stay and accept his offer. Maybe she could take advantage of the situation.

      Turning her head towards her she tried to keep a straight face as best as she could. “What do I get out of it?”

      Jisung’s face brightened instantly at her question and he held her hand with both of his. “Anything you want. If it’s possible I’ll do it.” His eyes were pouring into hers and a stupid sparkle was present in them.

      “I guess you were going to do that anyway but I want you to present me to your friends.” The same bored expression that she had on for almost the entirety of their conversation was adorning her face. Jisung was amazed at the lack of emotions she managed to show but she was an actress. Maybe she’s just good at her job.

      “Why? Do you have a crush on any of them?” A smirk was enveloping his facial features and he had a teasing tone. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment.

      “No. Some of them seem like really interesting people but their only defect was hanging out with you. Now that I have to hang out with you too I might as well start talking to them.” She shook his hands off hers before putting it in her front pocket. “Now I have to go to class cause my free period is almost over. See you later, babe!” She winked at him before turning around and making her way to her next class.

      The next day she met with Jisung in front of the cafeteria so they could walk in together and “announce” their relationship. Somehow he got hold of her number and they texted the night prior about the terms of their little deal. She felt like laughing when she saw how serious he was about it. If he really did end up dating Mina she’ll be convinced that both of them are idiots.

      His arm was over her shoulders as they walked through the tables. Multiple people were staring at them but she decided to ignore them. Upon reaching the table she placed her tray down and took a seat. The people at the table were looking confused at one another and some were throwing Jisung questioning looks.

      “Everyone, meet my girlfriend.” He spoke gesturing with a hand towards her. She smiled at them and waved her hand, muttering a soft ‘Hi!’.

      One of them, who she recognised to be Lee Minho, a Modern Dance major cleared his throat. “Hey. It’s nice to meet you.” He had an awkward smile on. “What are you majoring in?”

      “Yeah, I don’t recall seeing you around campus.” Seo Changbin, a Music Production major added.

      “Oh, I…” She started talking but a puff coming from her left stopped her.

      “Seriously dude? You share a class. She’s L/N Y/N from your Theory and Improvisation class.” The voice belonged to Hwang Hyunjin and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach at the realisation that he knows her. Everyone around the table was throwing him weird looks.

      “You are right but how do you know that? I’m pretty sure you don’t take that class.” There was a trace of embarrassment in her voice.

      “I don’t but sometimes when I wait for those guys outside of the classroom I see you walking out.” He said that with nonchalance taking a bite from his food.

      “And how do you know her? She’s not a Music Production major otherwise we would have known. And she’s not a Dance major either otherwise Minho and Felix would have known about her as well.”Changbin’s tone was almost provoking as if Hyunjin had done something bad and he was about to reveal it.

      “She’s a Theatre and Film major. Last year when we went to all those theatre spectacles to support Jeongin I was actually paying attention to the plays. She had either the main role or the lead. I remember her being really good.” She felt her cheeks heat at his comment.

      “Thank you!” She threw him a smile. However, she got ignored as Lee Felix started talking.

      “Do you know her Jeongin?” She somehow felt offended by his question. Maybe that wasn’t his intention but he should have used a different tone.

      “Of course I do. We share almost all of our classes and last year we worked on multiple plays together.” Annoyance was present in his voice caused by his friends' ignorance.

      She knew Jeongin from the first day. He was the first to speak to her although they didn’t exactly become friends. They kept on working on plays together throughout the entirety of the first year of college but they kept everything mostly professional since they both had their own group of friends and she kind of disliked most of his friends.

      “Then how come you never talk about her?” Now, wasn’t Changbin an annoying one? She rolled her eyes discreetly at his question.

      “Because we are not the best of friends. Why don’t you talk about Kim Gina from your degree?” The youngest question was a good one. They were acquaintances and barely knew something about each other. What was he supposed to talk about?

      “Gina is not hot. What am I supposed to talk about?” The older male said calmly with a shrug of his shoulders.

      The water she was just drinking got stuck in her throat and she started coughing violently. Jisung started hitting her back repeatedly trying to help her swallow. When she finally calmed down she looked at him annoyed.

      “Who she is, is not important. What’s important is that she is my girlfriend” he gave Changbin a side look ”and you have to accept that. Stop talking about her like she is not sitting right in front of you.” A few of them raised their hands in defeat while some of them averted their eyes. Minho and Changbin rolled their eyes.

      She felt her blood pressure spike up at their action. She remembered why she never wanted to talk to any of them. Arrogant pricks.

      “Ok, Mister protective boyfriend. Just tell us when you break up.” Minho took a bite of his food done with the younger man’s antics. Everyone knew that he was in love with Mina. The moment she shows some interest in him he would probably leave this one in a heartbeat.

      Y/N sucked in a breath discreetly. He really got her worked up and she hated it. She put an arm around Jisungs shoulders and yanked him towards her, his face close to her chest. With her other hand, she grabbed the sides of his face making him look up at her and forcefully pursing his lips. 

      “Break up? Do you wanna break up with me, babe?” Y/N’s voice was mocking as if she was talking with a child. Jisung swallowed hard before shaking his head. She smiled at his response and used the hand from around his shoulders to ruffle his hair. “That’s what I thought.” She placed a short kiss on his lips before releasing him and turning back to her food.

      Everyone at the table was looking at both of them shocked, especially Minho and Changbin. She wanted to let a proud smile escape her but she controlled herself.

      For the rest of the lunch, she decided not to engage in any more discussions with Jisung’s friends. She continued eating her food and listened to them talking about things that didn’t involve her, occasionally responding to Hayoon’s texts.

      She was the first one to get up, impatient to go to her next class and not have to see them. “Bye guys. It was lovely meeting you!” She smiled at them, a smile half true because she did like some of them. “Bye babe. See you later!” She grabbed the sides of his face again placing another kiss on his lips before taking her empty tray and leaving them alone.

      The men all watched her as she made her way out of the cafeteria. When she closed the door behind her they all burst into laughter. Jisung was biting the inside of his cheek irked by their action. When the laughter stopped, Seungmin that was sitting next to him put his hand on his shoulder.

      “I absolutely adore your girlfriend. She knows how to keep her ‘babe’ in check I see.” Seungmin tried cupping his face as Y/N did but Jisung slapped his hand away.

      “Are you her good boy, Jisungie? Does she give you rewards if you listen to her?” Minho cooed at him and Jisung held back an insult.

      “Shut the fuck up. It’s not like that. She surprised me as well. Who the fuck knew she was going to do that?” When he proposed the whole fake dating thing to her he thought it would be easier. Looking at it now he can’t understand why he thought that. He saw the way her fights with Mina unfold and he knew she was an actress which meant that she was probably either crazy confident or really good at faking it. For some reason, he thought she would be easier to tease and control but it would be a lie if he said it didn’t intrigue him. He liked a challenge and if the prize was Mina he would try his best.

      “And you man” Chan spoke for the first time “what the fuck was that? Do you know her entire biography?” He was looking at Hyunjin who rolled his eyes.

      “I told you I paid attention to last year’s plays. On top of that, she’s hot. I remember that after one spectacle I and the guys from my dance group at the time talked about her for like a month. She was so..” The man let out a groan and threw his head back trying to explain what he meant.

      “Sure, tell me more. Did you masturbate to the thought of my girlfriend? Perhaps got any wet dreams about her?” Jisung commented, raising an eyebrow.

      Hyunjin winked at him as a smirk made its way on his face. Some of the guys simultaneously let out disgusted sounds at his gesture.

      “But how did this whole thing happen? I can’t remember a moment when you talked about her or when you were together.” Felix’s deep voice rang making everyone pay attention to him.

      Changbin suddenly let a gasp out and dramatically covered his mouth. “Yesterday our little Jisungie sat next to her in Theory and Improvisation and when the class ended he ran after her. I think he might have had a secret crush!” The older man teased.

      “Yeah, but she looked really annoyed with him. Hence why she sprinted out of the class. Why would she accept to date him if she looked like she’d rather listen to Mr Jung talk about the first piano ever invented.” Chan intervened making Jisung shrug his shoulders.

      “She was annoyed with me but what can I say? I’m so charming she couldn’t refuse me.” He leaned back in his chair putting his arms over the back of the chair. 

      “I think she did it out of pity. When she realized you’ve been trying to get Mina for a year and a half now she probably felt so bad for you she decided to sacrifice herself so you look less like a loser.” Hyunjin said his tone way to serious to be a joke.

      Jisung threw the man a deadly stare. “At least I didn’t masturbate to the thought of her like a fucking virgin.” He spat in the other man’s face.

      “Touche.”

[gohyuck]

hometown (lee jeno) teaser

pairing: jeno lee x reader

genre: smut, angst

teaser word count: 1.5k

fic word count: 7k+ (it looks like it may end up being, like, 11-12k? i’m unsure)

teaser warnings: wet dream, one-sided emotional affair, jerking off into a shared bathroom sink, some discussion of math, general hatred of “the System”, mentions of depression

general plot warnings for the fic: infidelity: reader cheats on yuta and jeno cheats on his original character gf and neither of their partners find out so there isn’t even a nice little revenge scene at the end... it’s literally just them getting away with cheating, leftist thought points/philosophies discussed even if they aren’t outright stated as leftist, both implicit and explicit discussion of mental illnesses (mostly depression and suicidal ideation but like it isn’t explicit ideation and they don’t actually want to die they kind of just don’t want to exist), general disillusionment with the system, jeno and the reader are not very happy people and are actually full of a lot of hopelessness about society and the future of the planet as a whole, explicit mentions of American politics/legislation/etc. and implicit criticization of them, mentions of drugs (weed), the characters are so self-aware that it hurts me to write them because i feel bad for them and feel even worse for their significant others

A brief taste of hair in his mouth - he doesn’t like it, he decides then and there - before you pull yourself away from him, laughing softly at the way you’d accidentally shifted just as he’d leaned in to press a kiss against your forehead. You reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his eyebrows, a gesture more symbolic than anything, and he straightens his face out himself, trading the hair-in-mouth disgust in for the gentle smile he’d had just before being so rudely assaulted. It’s as you start to move your hand away from his face that the two of you meet eyes, and a corner of Jeno’s mouth turns up as he circles his hand around your wrist to stop it mid-air.

“Kiss?” He asks, one of his brows arched now. You can’t look at it too long, knowing that the urge to pluck away at his stray hairs will overcome you. Instead, you train your gaze on his cupid’s bow, thinner upper lip giving way to the kind of full lower lip you love to sink your teeth into. Jeno makes the prettiest noise when you do so.

“Mhm,” You respond, sounding noncommittal to the world but absolutely sure to the boy you’re straddling. He grins fully now, right before leaning up to capture your lips in his. The first touch is just a little clumsy, just slightly awkward, but after the initial meeting it’s only up from there. It’s easy, natural, the way you dissolve into each other, a mess of tongue and teeth as his hands grip the cloth across your back that much harder, as you grind the apex of your thighs down into his with that much more force. Time progresses at the speed of light. Time doesn’t progress at all.

It’s only a matter of seconds before Jeno cums in his pants, but it’s only a matter of seconds before you do, too. He knows it. It’s what happened when he’d actually lived through this, and it’s what happens now, over and over again, a moment preserved in time with a delicacy only minds can make. The stuff of dreams, literally.

Jeno wakes up right before it happens. It isn’t jarring only because he’s used to it. His fourth alarm of the morning is blaring, and he uses one hand to haphazardly wipe the sleep out of his eyes while extracting his other arm out from underneath his girlfriend in order to reach his phone. She’s sound asleep - she always is - and he envies her for a moment before turning the alarm off and, for good measure, turning his goddamn phone off too.

It’s a bit fucked, he realizes once he’s properly come to, for him to have a wet dream about you when Minhee is right there, still sleeping off the way he’d fucked her into the bed last night. He’s had this revelation twelve nights and days in a row now. For a split second he feels bad, feels as if he’s the worst person on Earth, but it’s easily overshadowed by the way his cock is straining in his boxers. This has happened for the past 12 days too.

Jeno’s always wanted to have a daily routine.

He slides out of bed, careful not to wake Minhee, before slipping the nearest shoes on - gold Nike slides, a birthday gift from Jaemin who’d insisted that Jeno wear colorful things even if it’s just in their dorm room - and making his way to the bathroom him and Jaemin share with Renjun and Donghyuck. They’re the best suitemates he could possibly have, but he’s even more glad in this moment: none of them will be awake ‘til noon. It’s a Saturday.

He can jerk off in peace.

Just in case, Jeno locks both the bathroom doors and double checks to make sure that they’re locked before he finally, finally slips a thumb under his waistband, forcing it down with almost gratuitous speed. He can’t help the soft grunt that bubbles up from the back of his throat as he wraps one hand around his dick. He braces the other against the mirror for balance, just in case.

Jeno swipes across the base of his tip with his thumb, his eyes sliding shut at the feeling. He moves his wrist up once, lets precum drool over his own fingers for a second before sliding his hand back down with purpose, slicking himself up to make the slide between his cock and his calloused palm easier. It isn’t Minhee’s face or body that sear themselves into the inside of his eyelids as he strokes himself, bottom lip folded in between his teeth. You’d love to bite it, tug on it. He imagines your face as you’d cum from grinding against him that one time.

He tightens his grip.

He’d never actually fucked you: you hadn’t wanted to lose your virginity to someone who was so starry-eyed, so untarnished by the ways of the world. You didn’t want to take the virginity of someone like that either. It felt wrong on every level somehow. You’d made sure to tell him so, never one to mince words, not even as a 16 year old. The breakup hadn’t come long after the singular time he had (in his pants, he remembers with a wince… always with a wince when he isn’t dreaming of it) and although it didn’t work out romantically between the two of you, you’d stayed friends for the rest of your high school careers. Even now, both in different parts of the country for college, the two of you keep up, more or less, with each other. It’s friendly in a way it wasn’t before.

You’d been having your manic pixie dream girl arc the year you’d dated him, Jeno supposes now. Cynical, hopeless, bitter at the world and hating everything and everyone. The world was and is awful, and you were too aware of it, or so you said. Jeno wants to laugh so badly at that old version of you, the one that had broken his heart, but he finds that he can’t anymore. A too-big part of him thinks you might’ve been right about everything.

You’d slept with YangYang Liu in senior year, had called Jeno afterwards to see if he’d go with you to get Plan B at 3 a.m. on a Friday. It’d been hardly a week after he’d cum embarrassingly early while sleeping with someone - a girl from his third period class - for the first time. He’d swallowed his suddenly resurfacing heartbreak to pick you up and drive you to the nearest CVS in the same car you’d made out with him so many times before. He’d swallowed his moans later that night as he lay in bed, fisting his cock tightly at the thought of gripping your thighs so hard they bruised, at sinking into you, at how warm, how wet, how tight - fuck!, he’d hissed to himself then, having bitten so hard into the hand he’d used to quiet himself that blood bloomed from broken skin.

Jeno had cum hard then, and he cums just as hard now, canine splitting the flesh of his lip as he muffles his long, drawn out groans. The metallic taste of blood is enough to push him further over the edge, and he practically hunches in on himself as spurts of opaque white liquid land in the bathroom sink. He’s satiated for now. He remembers all the work he has to do - midterms are upcoming - and his post-orgasm glory fades as soon as it’d come.

After an earth-shattering orgasm to properly wake him up, everything else feels twice as mundane as usual. Jeno’s quick to run hot water in the sink, making sure all evidence of his one-sided emotional affair is gone, before brushing his teeth and pissing. He’d shower, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to. Sometimes, he can’t bring himself to for two days, or three. Deodorant and Minhee’s perfume are his best friends now. Donghyuck, psych major that he is, calls it depression. Jeno, hellbent on never letting Hyuck be correct, calls it ‘finally experiencing ego death’.

He thinks Hyuck is right, though. He won’t say so.

Jeno’d come in as a mechanical engineering major, though he thinks he might switch to computer science. If he’s going to be a corporate shill - he’s realized, quite quickly, that there’s not much else to be - he may as well do it as efficiently as possible. He’d started college with the firm belief that the world is easy to change, and that he can help to do so. He’d dispelled this concept less than three weeks in.

He has midterms to study for, and corporate shill-dom to look forward to for it. Jeno should open the blinds - Jaemin isn’t here right now anyways, and Minhee’ll sleep through that, too - and sit down at his messy desk and get to work. He should study up on eigenvectors and eigenvalues - they’re easy, but they’re comfortable, and Jeno has started to like comfortable - or work through his solids textbook. He should, he should, he should.

Jeno doesn’t even pause between leaving the bathroom and climbing back into bed. Minhee shifts, and he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead before settling in beside her.

He has this moment, so he takes it. He doesn’t feel like he has many moments to himself anymore.

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[littlemisskookie]

Sharing is Caring

Sharing is Caring Ship: Pimp/Boyfriend!Jin | Prostitute!Reader | Customer!Jimin Description: Jin graciously decides to loan you to handsome Park Jimin for the night. Warnings: Sex Work, Cuckholding, Threesome, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Humiliation, Degrading Names, Lots of Manhandling, Objectification, Dom!Jimin, Spanking, Slapping, Cum Play, Cum Eating, Oral, Blowjob, Double-Oral (you’ll see), That real nasty shit Word Count: 3,024 A/N: I just wanted something with these two since it’s a rare combo haha.

You kissed Seokjin gingerly, your tongues sliding against one another's while you two stayed in a tight embrace. You wrapped around him as you sat in his lap, fingers curled in his hair as you tried to pull him impossibly closer.

The woman at the desk had thought you two were like every other couple. Some horny couple going to some dingy, gross motel to have sex.

Little did she know, huh?

Sure, Jin was your boyfriend, but he was more than that. And you didn't mean in the sense of him being your soulmate (though you had no doubts that he was that too). No no, Jin was your pimp.

The two of you had been dating for three years, living together in fact when he finally revealed his darkest fantasy.

Seeing you get fucked by another man.

At first, you questioned it. Why was it he was into the whole cuckholding scene? Typically who ever's sleeping with someone else was dominant, and Seokjin was by no means submissive. Typically it's degrading and a sense of power play.

He explained to you further that it was a fantasy of being your pimp, walking you through the streets as a prize as someone tried to pay for what he got every night. Seeing you lose yourself on another man's cock. Ultimately he liked seeing you blissed out.

So that night you took him out for a walk a bit after midnight. You wore your sluttiest clothes and hung yourself on his arm, knowing you were completely down for fulfilling his fantasy of seeing you get fucked by another man.

And soon enough a guy had stopped his car by the two of you, asking Seokjin how much it would cost to take you out for a little spin. You had simply grinned at Jin, seeing his cock get hard in his pants as you leaned over to the man's window, popping your tits out of the torso of your dress and telling him fifty bucks.

Next thing you knew the three of you were in the back of the guy's car as you hopped on some ribbed condom you had packed in your purse, right next to Jin. You held Jin's hand as you ground against the man, his moans filling up the car as he came in the condom.

After that, the two of you got more efficient. Supplied condoms, met the men beforehand to make sure they weren't in league with the cops, and always made sure to have the men provide proof they were clean. Your prices soared a bit more, but they still paid. Most men just wanted to try a bit of freaky shit their wife or girlfriend wouldn't do, or simply the thrill. Others were just terrible with women or too busy to start an actual relationship or get laid. Apparently, this guy was into some nasty shit, but couldn't build up to a long relationship that worked up to that point.

So instead he was given a night with you and a set of rules. Clear boundaries and the most prevalent rule that Jin stayed in the room, no matter how much the guy wanted to get you alone to himself.

So the man today was a fellow commuter with Jin when they were on their way to work. Jin had let him in on your little secret, agreeing to let him rent you for the discounted price of five hundred bucks.

So here you two waited, tangled together as you waited for your third party, the next customer, Park Jimin.

You mewled against Jin's lips, whining. "What if he doesn't like me, Jinnie?"

"Of course he'll like you, sweetheart. I only pick the best, now don't I?" You enjoyed this tender side of him, the boyfriend mode, knowing it'd evaporate as soon as the second man walked through the door.

Still, you pouted despite his reassurance. "Baby, you never know, though."

"Trust me, with an ass like this he'll be paying me full price for seconds." For emphasis he squeezes your ass, giving it a light slap.

It's at that moment you hear a light tap on the door, in walking a handsome man.

To say you were pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. It was truly something if you were impressed by a man's looks, considering you were dating the Greek god that was Kim Seokjin. Most of the guys that came around weren't exactly top notch in the looks department, but still had plenty to share when it came to cold hard cash. Jimin, however, seemed to be utterly and truly blessed. With a sharp face and plump lips, you couldn't help but salivate at the sight.

"Jimin! Nice to see you." Jin grinned up at him, and you quickly climbed off, letting the two embrace each other in that masculine way guys did, where they'd clasp hands and yank each other to their chests, punching one another in the back. "You brought the stuff?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, yeah." Jimin pulls out a piece of paper and wad of cash. Jin takes both, analyzing with precision. He nods, confirming Jimin was clean and then begins to count the bills.

Once everything was confirmed, he looks to Jimin. "Well, I already told you the rules, but I'll remind you just in case. I get to stay in the room, no matter what. If she pulls her earlobe or says red, everything stops. No choking or hitting her, as in outright punches. Bit of slapping is fine.  No full on anal unless previously proposed so we can prepare for that sort of stuff. No scatting or pissplay either, just for the sake of room service. No filming or recording either. Other than that, she's down for anything."

"Including the sort of degrading shit, I was talking about? And, um, cumplay?" Jimin questions.

Jin's eyes light up with excitement at that. "Especially that."

"Fuck, okay." Jimin turns to you, his carnal gaze matching your own. You couldn't wait to try this one out for a test ride.

You bat your lashes, noting from your peripheral that Jin was taking a seat on the couch nearby, the perfect place for him to spectate as he stroked his cock. You divert your attention back to Jimin though, his ravenous eyes threatening to devour you whole.

"Stand up and bend over to grab your ankles. I want to see what I paid for, little girl."

You shuddered at his dominating tone, doing as he said and making sure Seokjin had a good view as well. You heard Jimin let out a sharp hiss upon sight, your short skirt riding up so high that your pussy was on full display, no panties to shield his view.

"No panties? Just for me?"

You giggle a bit, Jin chuckling as well. "I never wear them."

"And why is that?"

"In case we run into someone spontaneously who wants a piece of her. In my eyes no slut should even bother trying to cover up- everyone knows the only thing she's worth: a good fuck. All she needs to do is spread her legs and let anyone who feels like using her do it. It's all she's good for, anyway."

"Damn right about that," Jimin hisses beneath his breath. You shudder at the feeling of his fingers on your bare cunt, experimentally rubbing at your wet folds before plunging a finger inside. "She's so wet. Care to tell me why, little girl?"

"Because I can't wait to feel you inside me," you tell him honestly, your voice a low seductive purr.

"Oh? But you already feel me inside you." Jimin curls his finger, stimulating the rough patch with ease.

"Your cock. I want to feel your cock inside me," you whimper, rutting slightly against his hand.

You yelp when he gives you a quick swat, slapping your ass. As if mesmerized by the sight, he grabs onto the flesh with both hands, slipping the finger out to do so. You can feel the stickiness of your juices on your skin, but you didn't care, relishing at the exposure as he spreads you apart to get a good look at your cunt and asshole.

"Mm, I can't wait to break you in." You enjoyed the thought, as though you were nothing more than a new pair of shoes.

He gives you one last slap with both hands. "Get me out and ready to fuck you. And lose the dress. I want you naked."

You do so, turning to face Jimin, pulling the dress off and unclasping your bra, throwing it to Jin. He catches it with ease, giving you a warning look as he lets it drop the floor. You let yourself eye his cock, now fully erect and in his hand.

You gasp at the feeling of a hand coming across your cheek, a sharp slap as your face turns to the side. You don't have time to recover from the blow, however, as Jimin grasps you by the chin, yanking your face close to his. "Pay attention to me, slut. I'm the one paying for your company, so I expect all eyes on me."

You whimper, nodding with submission as his hand comes back down to your cunt, slapping it with a quick movement of his wrists. He cups your sex, running his hand over your folds and plunging two fingers inside. "You're still gushing, little one. Do you like being slapped?"

"Yes," you nod, whimpering as he slaps you again twice, each time as sharp as the first. You could feel your chin begin to throb.

He hisses in satisfaction, enjoying the look of your reddening cheek. He rubs his thumb over it, gentle as though to soothe the skin. "Such a good whore. Now get to work."

Jimin grips your hair tightly, shoving you to your knees harshly. You're quick to undo his belt, yanking his pants and boxers down. He was already hard, seemingly turned on by your humiliation and objectification. You don't hesitate to take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down as you do your best to stare him in the eye. He was girthier than a lot of the customers, but you could handle it. At worst you were going to get a sore jaw the following morning.

"Play with your tits a bit, whore," Jimin commands.

You do so, playing with your nipples and twisting them slightly, pinching and pulling for Jimin's amusement. You squeezed them and offered them, as though trying to entice him further. You were tempted to press his cock into the valley of your breasts, but he pulled out of your mouth. Sitting up on the bed and laying down, he patted his thigh invitingly.

"Ride me, whore. Your job tonight is to make sure I cum. Face away from me, too. I don't wanna see that slutty face of yours. If I hear so much as a single whimper from those cock sucking lips of yours, I'll mount you. Am I understood?"

You nodded eagerly, getting in position as you straddled the man, ass facing towards him. You wiggled it a bit for him only to receive a double handed spank, and soon you were gripping his cock and aligning it with your entrance. You kept quiet as you slowly sunk down onto him, letting yourself stretch to accommodate him.

Slowly you began grinding, bouncing on his cock as you tried to milk his cum into your pussy. With you facing away from him, you were now able to look at Jin to your heart's content.

And boy, was he a sight.

His cock was prominent, leaking profusely. You could make out an angry shade of red at the head as his hand continued to stroke himself at the sight.

"You like his cock, baby?"

You bite your lip, remembering to stay quiet. Instead, you nodded your head, continuing to milk Jimin's cock with your pussy. You strained to listen in on Jimin's moans, the man beneath you letting out breathy pants and groans, squeezing fistfuls of your ass and spanking you continuously as you rode him. Jin let out a groan at that. He always enjoyed seeing you lose yourself on someone's cock, so submissive and pliant. He was so generous, it seemed, loving to share you with even strangers.

"Fuck yeah. You'll take anyone's cock, won't you sweetheart? You'll sit on anyone's cock no matter the circumstances, you're just that greedy. Is he filling you up good?"

You do your best to suppress a whine from Jin's dirty talk. He knew exactly how to get you going, and now you were panting, mouth agape as you began to ride Jimin with more vigor, your hands gripping his knees tightly as you anchored yourself to him. It was a sight, your tits bouncing with the force of your thrusts, and Jimin seemed to be enjoying it all too much, letting you do all the work as he simply tilted his head back and moaned.

Jin gave you a dark look, smirking at you in that way he knew made you melt. "Do you like being used as his personal fuck toy? Like his personal slut that's used as nothing more than a cum dumpster? Do you want him to fill that greedy pussy up with his cum?" He groaned at the thought, and soon enough he was spilling over his hand, cum covering his fingers and lap. You were a goner at the sight.

"Fuck, yes yes yes-"

Before you knew it you were being flipped over onto your hands and knees. Jimin placed a hand on your head, shoving it into the sheets as he grabbed one of the pillows. He used it to cover your head, both hands keeping it on you as he began to continuously rail you, mounting you just as promised. You groaned though the sound was muffled, at the feeling of him deep in your guts.

"What did I fucking tell you about keeping your fucking whore mouth shut," he growled. You could do no more than take it, hands fisting the sheets as you felt him drill into you at a ruthless pace, eager to reach his end and empty his balls into you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, take it, bitch," he growled, his thrusts slowly becoming sloppier as he felt himself nearing his end.

Soon enough his hips were digging into your ass as he pressed himself against you, tossing the pillow off of your head as he let you suck in greedy amounts of air. He didn't tolerate it for long, though, grabbing a fistful of your hair and shoving it further into the mattress, his sweaty chest pressed against your back as he rasped into your ear. "Fuck, that's it, take it all. Don't let that greedy pussy waste a single drop, little girl."

He spread his legs, spreading yours further as he emptied himself into you, and you bit at the sheets, groaning at the feeling of his hot cum filling you to the brim. You panted, sweaty until he climbed off of you, satisfied that his load was deep inside of you.

Jin cooed at you, noting what a pathetic sight you were. Climbing on the bed he flipped you over on your back, yanking you to the edge of the bed as he spread your legs further. "He really ruined you, didn't he baby? What a pathetic mess you are, look at you."

His hand ran over your folds, gathering some of the cum that was already beginning to leak out of you. Jin always loved this, playing with another's man fresh load inside of you. It turned him on to no end.

"Fuck, that's hot," Jimin groaned, licking his lips at the sight of his own cum covering Jin's fingers, mingling with the older man's. "Lemme try"

Jin didn't complain, moving aside from between your thighs as Jimin took a turn. He massaged your thighs, a more so gentle movement in comparison to the rough nature he possessed before. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue swiping over your heat, tasting both of you. "Delicious," he says, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he turned to Jin. "Join me? She still hasn't cum."

"Well, I-"

"I'll pay you an extra hundred."

"Fuck, yeah, okay, sure."

Jin was quick to his feet to go beside Jimin, spreading your thighs further as his mouth enveloped your heat. Your eyes rolled back, and you were dumbstruck at the feeling of Jin eating another man's cum from your pussy. It wasn't long before Jimin's mouth was next to his, both tongues working together. Jin lapped up the cum from your leaking hole as Jimin focused on your clit. The feeling of two sets of plush lips on you was sending you to ecstasy quicker than you cared to admit, especially for the moments their tongues would brush against one another's, uncaring as they did their best to make you cum.

You felt it wash over you in a wave, your eyes rolling back as you shuddered, bliss spreading throughout your body at the men's ministrations. They continued, lapping you for every drop as you gushed on their tongues. Both of them made sure to keep your legs spread apart as you tried to clasp your thighs around their heads but to no avail. You were trapped as they let you ride out your orgasm until you were left shaking and sobbing.

Finally, Jin came back up, kissing you tenderly on the lips. "You did so well, baby. So good."

"Mhm, couldn't ask for anyone better. You were well worth it," Jimin said, turning your head to face him as he gave you a tender peck on the lips, a surprisingly soft moment.

"Are you going to come back for seconds, then?" You smiled foolishly, enjoying the chuckle that was shared between the two men.

"Wouldn't mind having you as a regular, Jimin," Jin confirms to the fellow commuter.

"I'll see you two next week, then."

[sadchappuccino]

I missed you

Pairing: Peter Parker(18+) x reader

Warnings: minor angst, drinking, smut, dom/sub, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap your willy)

Request: by @jennyparkerpizza, Hiii I love your writing so much I didn't know if I should have send this ask or not but can I request one peterxreader agnst-smut? Peter and the reader had a fight (break up maybe) and the reader goes out with her friends and peter goes accidentally to the same place with her they both get really high and drunk and he beats bad a guy who flirted with her and then they both stat crying bc they miss each other and they have rought sex (dominant peter) but after sweet and passionate love?

———

“Come on y/n, you have to get over Peter” Charlotte, your closest friend, sighed. “I don’t want to go” you muffled into your pillow. “You have been sobbing on your bed for the last two weeks y/n” she patted your head, “Come on, have a few drinks fuck a hot guy and then you can watch bad movies and cry again”

You rolled your eyes at the clear attempt to make you feel better, it did make you laugh though, “Alright alright I’ll come” you raised your hands in surrender. “Perfect!” Charlotte clasped her hands together, “and I know exactly what you’ll be wearing” she walked to your closet and grabbed a sheer black shirt and a bordeaux tight mini skirt. You knew that arguing with Charlotte would have no use so you pulled on the outfit and if you were honest you loved the way it looked on you.

“I really like it,” you said, twirling around in front of your mirror. “Good, because it’s 10 pm and we still need to put on make-up and go to the club” Charlotte shoves you to the bathroom. “Why so fast though? Can’t we be fashionably late or something?” you joke. “Fashionably late is 15 minutes/half an hour. Not 2 hours” Charlotte shook her head. “Oh” you laughed, “I didn’t know that. I haven’t really been to a club”

Charlotte sighed, “I know,” she said, “that’s why this is so important, you should live in your twenties not be stuck in your apartment, sobbing over a guy who doesn’t deserve you anyway.” She exasperated, “He always ditched you, went out to wherever” she exclaimed, “without a good reason. You haven’t been on a date in months, the guy is a dick. It’s good that you left him, he was toxic”

“I know, that’s why I broke up with him, it still sucks though” you said whilst working on your make-up. “It is, so that’s why we’ll get drunk and you’re going to go to at least third base with some guy.” You laughed at that, but don’t answer. You both finished your make-up and Charlotte changed into a little black dress you had in your closet and you both walked out of your apartment to a club in your neighbourhood.

You entered the club and a wave of music blasted through your ears. “Let’s have some fun!” Charlotte shouted over the music. “Yes!” being in the club pumped your mood and you were ready to forget that asshole Peter, “Let’s do some shots Char” you pull her to the bar and order ten shots. You slam them back and you immediately felt loser.

Charlotte and you walked on the dancefloor, you moved your hips to the beat of the song and soon two arms wrapped around your waist and a guy started grinding against you. Normally this wouldn’t be you scene, but you moved your hips against his pelvis with not a single care.

“Hey” he whispered in your ear, “hey” you smiled at him, you turned around so that you could face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “How about we go to my place?” you bit your lip. “I would like to” he smirked at you. “Okay let me just say bye to my friends” You told him before you walked over to Charlotte who was now with a few friends, “Hey I met this cute guy and we’re going to my place” you winked at her. Charlotte waved at you and you went on your way back to the guy whose name was still unknown to you. Only when you saw him he was talking with your ex-boyfriend, Peter.

“What the fuck” You walked next to them. Peter immediately placed his arm around your waist. “Hey baby” he smiled. You pushed his arm away and slapped him in the face, “Fuck off” you seethed at him.

“Do you know him?” the guy you had been with these past hours asked you, “Ye- He’s my ex” You glared at Peter before you turned back to that guy, “But ignore him, let’s just go to my place as planned” you drag your arm over his arm. The smirk settled back on his face and he squeezed your ass.

What you didn’t see was Peter’s hands balling up in fists, when the man you met in the bar squeezed your bottom he was done. Peter pulled him away from you and punched him on the nose, making it bleed. “What’s wrong with you?” the man asked, “No chick is worth this, I’m leaving”

“What the hell Peter!” You screamed at him. He looked down at the ground. “What you don’t have anything to say now?” you were beyond furious at him, how dare he punch a guy after he was the one who ditched you ever single time?

“I’m sorry y/n” he looked up at you, “I was a dick” he admitted himself. “You were” you nod your head. You couldn’t think straight anymore, everything was a blur and even though you didn’t show it, you were drunk and unable to make good decisions.

“I’ve just been so busy and” Peter rambled on, the only thing on your mind was how horny you were and you remembered Peter’s special member and the size of it so you just stepped forward and kissed him harshly on the lips. They moved messy against each other, Peter soon was in the dominant one and he slipped his tongue in.

“Let’s go to my place” you proposed to him. “Ye-” he muttered against your lips. You practically ran to your apartment and when you finally reached your home Peter waited no minute to lace his lips back on yours. “I missed you” you said in between kisses. “I missed you too” he said.

Peter picked you up and laid you on your diningtable, he needed you too much to go to your bedroom. He sucked on your earlobe, “Remove your skirt” he whispered in your war. You hastly lowered your skirt and panties to your ankles. Peter opened his pants and grabbed his cock in his hand. “You’re so wet for me” he grumbled. Neither of you were feeling like doing any forplay so Peter placed his tip at your entrance. He slowly entered your body, his big size splitting you up into two.

Moans immediately left your mouth. “I forgot how good you feel around me” Peter groaned. He moved back out before slamming back in, he moved in a steady pace, you became more slick by the moment, making it easier for him to move in and out. You placed your hands on his back and your nails scratched his clothes.

“Yes Peter~” you moaned loud, you were sure that the neighbors could hear you, but you didn’t really care. His thrusts became sloppy and you walls clenched around him, “Can I cum?” you asked him with a ragged breath. “Yes, cum all over me” Peter ordered you, you tipped over the edge and cane with a scream of Peter’s name. The feeling of you so tight around him made Peter cum too.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, his soft cock was still inside of you, as he panted. “I really love you”

“I love you too” you smiled you placed your lips on him and this kis wasn’t like the other’s you had that day, it was sweet.

———

Masterlist

Permanent taglist: @loxbbg @zabdisamor

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

Monsta X as FWB

Summary: Monsta X as FWB Anon Request

A/N: Finally writing about these grown ass smokeshows...I am so fucking thirsty. I really struggled writing Changkyun (my bias) because I’m so in love it hurts I’m so sick of him

Warnings: Smut and s o f t b o i s

Word Count: 2657

Hyunwoo (Shownu)

He would be SO BAD at not catching feelings

You smile at him one time and he’s in love he couldn’t handle a fwb arrangement

The only way he’d even do it is if he really liked you but was afraid you didn’t want to commit

He’s really that bitch who’s like “if i dick her down real good maybe she’ll love me”

He might be right tho

If you ever take a shower at his place you won’t exactly be getting clean

In fact any time you show any amount of skin he’ll be all blushy and handsy

Def shy and hesitant until he gets comfortable with you

After he does it’s on, though, he’ll never wear a shirt if he doesn’t have to and you’ll be constantly thirsty

He’s the best at eating you out don’t @me

He doesn’t know how smoking hot he is so he’d be so proud when he made you flustered or made you come real hard

Not very vocal in bed but he’s got a low pitched whine when he’s close that sends you over the edge

Won’t dirty talk and will blush if you do but he’ll love it

If he’s horny he’ll send you a text like “hey” that’s it

Bad at sexting he’ll just send you pics and you know what a picture is worth 1000 words

Does that low-key possessive thing in public where he’ll lead you with his hand at the small of your back

Otherwise not very affectionate in public though, he’s worried you’ll reject him if he tries to hold your hand and he’s f r a g i l e

Smiling and lots of affection from this big teddy bear

Likes to take care of you, he’ll tear your ass up and then clean your apartment while you sleep and wake you up with takeout and a movie

He is never not buying you food it’s his way to say he loves you ok epitome of “how many food until date”

He will bruise you a lot by accident and feel so bad about it, kiss every one with an apologetic smile

Is it that he doesn’t know how strong he is or that he wants every guy around to know you’re his? Little from column a, little from column b

Please don’t let it slip if you’re seeing anyone else he will break your heart he’ll be so sad

Not even salty just will be a whole kicked puppy dog

Will dick you down hard after you tell him and then apologize and be the softest cuddly baby, won’t want to let you leave afterwards

Depending on how comfortable he is, he’ll either avoid you or be totally honest

Not in person though you’ll get a lot of emo texts he’s too shy to tell you

Your phone will be dinging as you walk out his door, tbh

“I don’t like this” “come back let’s talk”

But then when you do talk again he barely says anything just holding your hand and caressing your palm with his thumb

He’s likely to end the arrangement if he thinks you won’t choose him

He’ll be so sweet and apologetic tho he’ll say “I’m sorry but I’m just not built for this. I want you all to myself.”

You WILL choose him I mean it’s a no brainer, really

Minhyuk

So you’ve chosen Lee Minhyuk as your fwb, huh? Good luck not falling in love, sis

He’s so. Much. Fun

He’ll wanna take you to amusement parks and carnivals and finger you on the Ferris Wheel

He’ll try and make you fall apart while at the dinner table with his hand under your skirt with the most innocent smile on his face

He’s down for anything in bed and he is a switch for sure

Loud AF when you tease him such whiny moans

If you spend a couple days with him y'all won’t get anything done because you’ll be trying to get dressed and he’s taking your clothes right back off

Doesn’t give a fuck if you leave marks and will be offended if you complain about him leaving them

He won’t get very salty if you have other partners but he’ll be competitive and try to occupy all your attention and be real extra in bed

You’ll probably catch feelings before he does he’s so talkative and fun you’ll get to know him fast and start to love all his little quirks

If you tell him he’ll be sweet about it and just be like “shit ok let’s try it’

If he catches feelings on the other hand and you’re not very perceptive, you’ll never know

He’ll get real weird, v quiet and sulky like he’d hate catching feelings and not know if you did or not

Would try to find out what you thought v obviously like "hey so if we did date how do you think it’s go?”

Will wait for you to ask him out even if he liked you first

Kihyun

Would be hesitant about an fwb arrangement bc he’s highkey salty when he doesn’t get his way

Would probably wanna cuff any meaningful sexual partner bc he’s territorial so you might worry it’s because of that and not because he actually likes you

Very respectful about things like consent would never fuck you while you were at all inebriated (like even two glasses of wine) even if you begged

Quiet with you in public he wouldn’t want to go out a lot because too much social interaction drains him

He’d be the type to be seeing other people but not wanting you to smh

But he’d feel bad about it and know it was dumb

He’d be really honest with you even to the point of hurting your feelings but if he wasn’t sure how he felt about you he’d just keep quiet

So much salt and shade thrown if you’re seeing someone else will get pressed if you so much as mention the other guy’s name while you’re with him

“Hey, this is my time, right? Focus on me.”

Rough in bed and a smirky little shit, knows he’s good

A whole dom he’d like you submissive but bratty

Loves to bark orders and dirty talk in foreplay but will be quiet during the act, low grunts

He’ll buy you lingerie almost be a low-key sugar daddy, really, you’ll mention a purse you like and find it shipped to your house

If he caught feelings he’d tell you immediately and force you to make a choice he won’t wait around for you to decide

If you caught feelings and he wasn’t ready he’d avoid you for a while but expect you to be ready to talk about it when he calls you a week later outta nowhere

Hoseok (Wonho)

This boy is all talk

He’d flirt like mad, tease you in public, hands all over you

When he got you alone he’d be a little shy and s o f t tho

Would be eager to try an fwb arrangement because he wants to think he’s a fuck boy

Spoiler alert: he is N O T

He’s almost worse than Shownu about catching feelings

Big showoff in bed after the second or third time

Likes to manhandle you

Highkey has a praise kink so it drives him crazy when you tell him how good he’s fucking you

Loud whiny moans, lots of dirty talk but he’s shy right after he comes and uber affectionate

Will sext you constantly

Wants to meet up every damn day

He’s rough in bed at first, pulling your hair, smacking your ass

When he catches feelings tho every once in a while he’ll go all sweet and slow

If he starts going down on you a lot you’re in trouble sis he’s in his feelings

He’s only a dom until he loves you then he’ll switch whenever you want

He will never not cuddle you after sex either way this man would stroke a one night stand’s hair for three hours after sex

Will mark and bruise you everywhere and be proud of it

He’d be pouty if you wore something to cover his bite marks and hickeys

Speaking of pouty just please like don’t let him find out you got another man

Your life is now constant d r a m a

Would follow you around at bars, salty af if he saw you dancing with someone else

Will make a whole scene

Tug you away into the hallway and if he’s drunk he might be crying

You’ll have to take him home and comfort him smh

Wears his heart on his sleeve so he’ll tell you he loves you like 2 weeks after y'all start fucking

His mom knows about you by week 3, ok, he’s a whole mess

Will cry about you to his friends, Shownu won’t like you bc Hoseok is listening to sad music and coming in his room at 3am being a emo baby

If you end the arrangement you’ll have to block his number he’ll be such a mess

Will lie and promise never to get salty about you seeing someone else if you just come back

He’s real cute if you like him back though, eager puppy and will make you know you’ve made the right choice by not letting you out of his bed for a full two days

Hyungwon

Would probably be among the best at not catching feelings

He can’t be bothered to fall in love tbh

He might if you really understood him, though, like if you’d nap with him midday and talk to him about nothing for hours

You’d only be meeting up twice a week for sex he’s not that pressed

He knows he’s pretty and you are too and it works for him but it’s not that serious at first

Will not give a fuck if you’re seeing someone else but he won’t be bc he’s too lazy to maintain more than one arrangement

He would get a little salty if you cancelled a meeting with him for someone else though how dare you

He isn’t a sub but he likes you to do all the work in bed if you’re down, likes to see you riding him

Not rough at all

Quiet in bed, just short breaths

He may just call you over for a blowjob tbh

You’ll know he likes you if he goes down on you

Like he always will get you off but if he’s taking extra time he’s got it bad

Not rough in bed, almost romantic sometimes so that might get you in your feelings even though it’s just how he is

If you catch feelings first and try a dramatic confession and he doesn’t feel the same way he’ll ghost you

If he does like you he’ll call you sometimes just to talk when he can’t fall asleep

Won’t exactly tell you if he catches feelings you’ll just go out somewhere like to get breakfast and he’ll run into a friend and he’ll introduce you as his girlfriend

So anyway you’re dating now

Jooheon

Another “try not to fall in love” challenge

He’d suggest an arrangement just to make you blush and he shocked when you said yes

A real giver in bed, loves to eat you out and won’t even ask you to reciprocate but will be very grateful if you do

He’s so loud, wake the neighbors loud but his dirty talk is low key sweet

Also has a praise kink of sorts but likes to give rather than receive

Will fuck your brains out while singing your praises, “Look at you, baby, you’re so beautiful like this.”

He’d love to take you out, fancy dinners sometimes, would just kind of act like you’re his girlfriend even if it were casual

Will actually be your friend you can call him in the middle of the night crying and he’ll drop everything to help

Y'all will go to karaoke and shit he’s really like your bff who also dicks you down

If he wants to see someone else he’ll talk to you about it first and if you’re even a little uncomfortable, he won’t

He won’t be too salty if you see someone else but will be pouty and needy the next time you see him

Lots of cuddles and his dimpled smile

If you catch feelings it’ll make him catch feelings he’ll look at you in a whole new light

If he catches feelings he’ll just tell you

The second he realizes it he’ll deadass stick his head in the shower when you’re in there

“So hey I like you, let’s date, yeah?- why are you screaming it’s just me”

Changkyun (I.M)

He’s the most likely to be a whole fuck boy

He’s also probably the best in bed and he knows it

He’s a cocky little shit, knows how to make you tremble with a look and a slow wink

Will be your friend first and your sex partner second, if you’re upset or in a bad mood he’ll talk you down and make you feel better before even thinking of touching you sexually

Most blunt

“wya I’m horny come through”

Will talk to you about everything and nothing your pillow talk might be the best thing about your arrangement

Otherwise he won’t take you out much though he’s somewhat shy in public

Low groans and deep growls in bed

Absolute master of words in Korean or English lord help you if he dirty talks in bed p h e w

He won’t sext you much bc his deep ass voice is what makes your legs shake and he knows it

All about the foreplay wants to make you beg him to fuck you but he doesn’t last long because it gets him just as worked up

Rough in bed, sweet aftercare

Likes to wash your hair in the shower and shit

Makes you laugh a lot will send you memes when you’re having a bad day

Won’t initiate cuddling but loves it when you do and pulls you to against him

He will definitely be salty if you’re seeing someone else even if he is too but it’ll be quiet salty

If it’s in public he’ll just seduce you away from the other guy

“You like me better anyway, right honey?” Deep voice right against your ear as he ushers you into the cab and he’s all smirks when you let him up your skirt on the ride home

You WILL catch feelings even if you’re the most jaded bitch alive if you spend enough time with him

If you’re the type to run from feelings he will chase you

You’ll be talking to him after sex and he’ll give you that sweet smile when he shows his low-key dimples and your chest starts hurting and you’re like “I gtg”

He will follow you out the door fr

Blow your phone up

Even if he isn’t sure how you feel about him or he feels about he’ll want to make sure you’re ok

Would never ghost you even if you ended things

Would be the type to have a long conversation with you about your feelings

If he fell for you though you’d have to pin him down and talk about it he’d stop calling you as much and try to avoid talking about it

If you tease him about it he’d groan and almost get mad

“You loooove me”

“Shut up you’re dumb ion even like you”

Compliments you when you look nice but it’s lowkey

“Your hair looks good like that” or “your legs are nice you should wear skirts more often”

Suggests you to get serious very casually

“So you’re my girlfriend now, okay? Where do you wanna eat and if you say you don’t care I swear to God”

[submissivekpop]

kisses; christian yu

Requested: yes Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, teasing, dom!Reader, sub!Christian Words: 1500+ A/N: anon asked for something “hard” and I honestly have no idea if this classifies as hard or what... hope you like it anyways!

«I wanna cum too.»

You force yourself to open your eyes to look at the squirming man beneath you.

«Please» he adds, as soon as your gaze meets his.

He looks so pretty like this, you think, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, face flushed and bottom lip caught between his teeth – biting down so hard that it might start to bleed. With every move you make, he fights the urge to just close his eyes and give in to the pleasure – but he doesn't, because you told him to keep on looking at you, no matter what.

What a good boy, always listening and obeying to your every order. You wonder if, maybe, he didn't disobey while you weren't watching but, there again, he's so well behaved that he'd never do it.

«Not yet» you say, and you can't help but giggle when he whines.

Making a mess out of your boyfriend wasn't exactly what you expected when your date night started, and yet here you are, towering over him while he tries to hold back his orgasm as long as possible, not wanting to disobey you – or, even worse, disappoint you.

It all started with kisses, a few soft pecks on his cheek while watching a movie. A very boring one, if you had to be honest. He didn't react, at first, in spite of the fact that kisses always managed to turn him on. Maybe he's just not in the mood, you thought, before giving up and turning your attention back to the movie. Not even a couple of minutes passed, though, before he was shyly trying to get you to kiss him a bit more. Gladly giving in, you moved from his cheek to his hypersensitive neck, barely touching it, enjoying the small whimpers he let out when your breath hit his skin. Then, you switched to some gentle open-mouthed kisses, which, much to your amusement, sent shivers down his spine. Eventually, he turned to you, allowing you to finally kiss his soft lips. He moaned into the kiss, a deep, guttural moan that soon turned into an endless strings of small whimpers as you nibbled his lips, before climbing onto his lap and starting to grind on him. After a heavy make out session, filled with the sweetest noises and the dirtiest words you've ever heard, you led your extremely needy boyfriend to your bedroom. There, on your bed, you started your teasing once again.

«Please, Y/N, more...» he pleads, but you're not ready to give in. Not yet.

His neck is painted in several shades of red, with some pretty purple spots. You feel proud of yourself, you're doing a great job. Tomorrow, it'll look even better. Unless he decides to cover them, of course.

Slowly moving on top of him, you wonder how the scene might look from a third point of view. You're rubbing your almost naked core onto him, still fully clothed. Someone might think it's unfair, but you know exactly how much he loves it, even if he'd never say out loud.

«You're so good to me, Ian» you say, and he smiles. «Letting me do whatever I want to you.»

He nods.

«I'm yours.»

You know he means it, he always does. After several months of dating, you've come to the conclusion that it's his favourite thing to say. At the same time, it's becoming your favourite thing to hear, even more than the heavenly noises he lets out when you're making him feel good, or the little grunts he does when you tug on his hair just right, or even the way he repeats your name when you finally allow him to have his release.

Taking off his shirt, much to his delight, you let your hands wonder across his chest. He's been working out, you know that, and his effort is finally paying off – not that you care too much, you love him regardless of his physical shape. Your fingers gently graze over his tan skin, goosebumps following them wherever they go. As you get closer and closer to his crotch, right where he really needs you, you can feel his breathing becoming heavier. He's no longer moaning nor whimpering, he's just watching you so intently that you feel as if his glare could pierce right through your head. His bottom lip is back between his teeth, and this time you're sure about it, it's bleeding. You wipe your thumb across his lip, and he seizes the opportunity to suck your finger. You let him, it's not like it bothers you – actually, you love it.

«Let me take these off» you say, motioning towards his pants, and he eagerly nods.

Lifting his hips up, he allows you to pull them down, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. When your hand touches his crotch, his whole body jerks, while a loud whimper escapes his mouth. You palm him through his boxers, taking in the beautiful sight in front of your eyes.

«So beautiful» you praise, kissing his abs, right above his v-line. «And all mine.»

«Y-Yes, I'm all yours!» His words are louder than he intended to, but, in that moment, he doesn't really care. As long as you're happy with it, he is as well.

Taking off his boxers, you finally free him, allowing his member to rest across his abdomen. When you graze your nails along his thighs, it twitches. You do it several times, enjoying how his body reacts to your touch, and each time he hisses louder and louder. He's at his limit, you know that. There's precum on the tip of his cock, which now looks redder and, if possible, harder than before. Giving a quick look to the clock on your night stand, you realize how long you've been teasing him for. You're actually surprised he didn't try to persuade you into giving in earlier. You have to admit it, if he had, you would have probably complied. You can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter every passing second, and you can't wait to finally feel him inside you.

Kneeling next to him, you jerk him off for a couple of minutes, before deciding to take him into your mouth. When you do, he thrashes his head onto the pillows, his eyes wide shut as he lets out a breathy moan.

«Fuck, Y/N...» is the only thing he manages to say, inhaling deeply as you bob your head up and down his length.

It doesn't last long. His reaction, together with your own need to have him inside you, forces you to stop what you're doing, quickly take off your panties, and then climb onto him once again, teasing your entrance with his tip.

«Please, just fuck me» he says, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

Nodding, you sink onto him, watching how his mouth slowly takes an 'o' shape. Neither of you moans, the pleasure is so much that it's almost impossible to make any sound.

You set your pace immediately, not too fast but not too slow either, just enough for the both of you to last for some more time. The only thing you can hear is an endless chanting of your name, with some curses in between, his voice shaky but loud nonetheless.

«Y-You fill me up so well, baby» you say, leaning over to kiss him. When you do, he moans into your mouth, while his tongue desperately intertwines with yours. It's a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, there's saliva everywhere, but neither of you cares.

His hands move to your back, bringing you as close to him as possible, his nails leaving some scratches behind. His hips, moving from beneath you, meet yours in the best way possible, bringing you closer to your orgasm. Your hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it in circular motions, as he thrusts into you. A few minutes later, you're clenching around him, as you feel a wave of pleasure rushing into you.

«Y/N, c-can I cum?» he begs, knowing that he's not going to last long. «Please, Y/N, please!»

«Yes, cum for me, baby» you say, finally granting him his release.

He comes saying your name, as he always does, and he doesn't stop repeating it until you get off of him. You can feel his seed dripping on your thighs, something you know he loves. He's watching you, clearly enjoying what's before his eyes.

«You did so well, baby» you reassure him, laying down next to him and moving his damp hair from his forehead, before placing a chaste kiss there.

«I did?» he asks, and you know that the only thing he wants right now is to be praised.

«Of course» you say. «You took my teasing extremely well, I'm really proud of you.»

He smiles, content, turning his face to you, silently asking for another kiss. More than happy to comply, you kiss him.

It doesn't take long before both of you start to fall asleep, in the comforting dim light of your bedroom, laying next to each other, sweet 'I love you's whispered to each other.

Feedback is always appreciated!

[tamarastevie]

Happier

Pairing - Matthew Daddario x Reader.

A/N - lmfao hi guys!! i apologise for disappearing on you like that! i just kinda got over matt, i suppose. but this was sitting in my drafts for ages, and i wanted to finish it! feel free to drop in a request for billy hargrove, i’ll do my best to write it! this was heavily inspired by Ed Sheeran’s Happier. I’m sorry for the angst!

Words - 1474.

Matthew was walking down the street when he saw his gorgeous ex-girlfriend walking into a bar with another man. He let out a deep sigh and entered the same bar since he was meeting his friend, Dominic Sherwood there.

It’s been a month since Y/N and Matthew separated. His work was getting the best of him and he was letting all of his frustration and exhaustion out on her. She wasn’t an angel either; her family issues were getting the best of her too. With her parents constantly pressuring her to get good grades, and get a decent job all while irritating her to talk to Matt about getting married and settling down.

Eventually all of these unspoken things brought their relationship to a downfall. Their relationship didn't end the nicest way possible. The two were screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, until finally, Matthew stormed off from Y/N's flat, and never returned.

The two haven't seen each other since. At least, until now. Y/N hadn't acknowledged Matthew's presence, since she didn't see him. As soon as he saw her enter, he fled to a nearby ally. He dialled up Dominic's number and awaited for him to answer, "Come on! Pick up you fucker!" he let out a sigh of relief after his friend answered on the third ring, "Dude, what's up? Where are you?" his friends British accent was heard through the phone.

Matt scratched the back of his neck "I-I'm not sure I can go in," he stuttered. Even though he couldn't see it, Dom's brows rose in surprise, "Why not?" Just as Matthew was about to explain himself, Dom spoke again, "Oh my god, dude. Your ex just walked in," the brunette was nodding until he realised his friend couldn't see him nod over the phone, "Yeah, exactly. That's why I don't think I can go inside. Things didn't end the best between us, as you remember all too well."

Dominic shook his head, "Look, whatever happened is in the past. You both are adults and should be able to be under the same roof without tearing each other's heads off. Come in, I'll buy you a beer, and we'll be fine, okay?" Matt let out a sigh of defeat before saying he'll be right there. He hung up and walked back to the entrance of the bar.

Upon entering, a doorbell at the top of the doorframe rang. Nobody really heard it as it was swallowed by the sounds of 80's rock music. The bar was known for its old-timey style. They even had a jukebox, just for show though. It wasn't even plugged in.

There were sets of different tables across the space between the entrance and the bar itself. They were all the same style, but different colour. The core was the same, metallic, round tables that being prepped up by a long neck that was spilt into four at the floor. All the chairs were metallic as well, but they were cushioned.

It also had booths. The booths were more deluxe looking. Wooden brown pressed up against same colour walls. The cushions were a lighter shade of brown. The dark tables were also pushed up against the walls.

Matthew spotted his friend immediately. Dominic was seated on a high bar stool, a beer already in hand and another one placed on a coaster on the table. He walked up to his pal and patted him on the back. Dominic smiled brightly and gave Matt a welcoming hug.

Dominic gestured towards the cold beer standing on the table, indicating it was for his friend. Matthew smiled and thanked his friend for getting him his favourite, promising to repay him with a tequila shot. The blonde tried to wave his friend off, saying it was okay, but the boy shook his head, already ordering two shots.

The two spent most of the time drinking the night away, hiding their sorrows in massive amounts of liquor. And it was working fantastically. At least, it did, until Matt's gaze wandered over the bar and his dark eyes landed on the girl who broke his heart no longer than three months ago.

She was laughing and he head was thrown up. She only did this when she was truly and genuinely laughing. His features softened at the sight of her, and he smiled. Until his gaze moved right and he saw the source of her laughter. His stare hardened and his smile disappeared, being replaced with a frown. His eyes were fixated on the man, thinking that if he'd look hard enough, he'd burn a hole through the man and make him disappear.

Dominic had to pull Matthew away by force, turning his head back to the bar, where he had another shot placed for the two. Matt downed it within seconds, loving the burn in his throat, as it distracted him. Sadly, the distraction didn't last long. Soon enough, Dominic went off with some red-headed girl that hit on him, leaving Matt alone. He waved Dom off when he gave the brunette an apologetic look while being pulled away from the scene.

Matt let his eyes wander once again to Y/N. She seemed so much happier now. Her eyes have regained their shine. Her smile was reaching to her eyes once again, her straight toothed smile dazzling everyone who looked her way.

Looking at her reminded him of all their good times together. How wide their smiles were. How happy they once were. Now? Now, her smile was wider when she was with her new guy. How happier she seemed. Matthew smiled sadly, looking at the couple.

He knew he had to get out before he broke down in front of the crown of strangers in the bar. He quickly paid his fare and left the place. He called an Uber and waited for it outside. He was afraid of returning to his flat, but he had no other place to go to.

Once at home, he realised how everything reminded him of Y/N. Every place he looked, he saw her. On his dark brown couch they were once cuddled on. He saw the two of them, she was being pressed up against him, arms around his waist while his was around her shoulders. They were watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

Now the couch felt cold. And empty. He hated sitting there now. Instead, he always sat in the corner of the room, avoiding everything in his place. The place that he once felt so happy in, now broke him with every glance.

Another memory flashed in his eyes. This time the two were cooking together, and Matthew accidentally cut Y/N with a knife. It was a small nick, but he apologised profusely nonetheless. Even after Y/N reassured him that she was fine, he kept going. "Nobody hurts you like I hurt you," he looked at her. "But nobody loves you like I do," he smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Time went on, and he tried moving on, and leaving without her, but he couldn't. All of his friends kept telling him that he'll move on with someone new as well too. But he tried, he tried going on dates, tried dating apps, but to no avail. Nothing worked, he couldn't get Y/N out of his head.

He wanted to message her so badly. Tell her how much he missed her, how much he needed her back in his life, in his arms, but he couldn't. He kept telling himself how happier she is now. He didn't want to ruin that for her. So he did what he thought would be best.

Matthew decided to wait.

He was going to wait until her new lover broke her heart. And if he won't, he'll keep waiting anyway. Matthew didn't want someone else. He couldn't bring himself to get over Y/N. He was still in love with her. He adored her in every way possible and he couldn't live without her.

Just the thought of her not going back to him if he ever decided to reach out to her broke him. He was so afraid to face the truth so he ran from it. Whenever someone asked him about his love life, he said he was waiting for the right time to ask. He never mentioned what he was going to ask.

And that's how he spent the rest of his life. Waiting. For the right moment to message her again. For the moment that her new lover would break her heart and he'd be there to mend it. He didn't know if such a moment would come, but he wasn't going to give up on her. He was going to keep on waiting, even if it meant forever.

[ginger-and-mint]

If you're still taking requests for your OCs, how about Kara with a reeeeally bad bellyache? In your story so far she has seemed to have a pretty strong stomach, but it would be fun to see how she deals with majorly overdoing it. Only if you're interested, though, and thanks for considering the suggestion anyway!

I started writing this as a scene where Kara overeats at her aunt’s house, but then I thought—y’know what?—it’s going to be awhile before we’ll have the possibility for an actual F/F feeding scene in the story proper. So… here’s one, sort of.

CW: This isn’t at all explicit, but it does depict people having kinks and sex lives. Also somebody demonstrating How Not To Be Dominant.

“All right, I admit, you weren’t overstating your cooking skills.” Kara laid her fork on her empty plate and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

Across the table, Lily flashed one of her effortless confident smiles, and Kara felt her pulse quicken. This was the third date she’d been on with Lily, and while she still wasn’t sure how well their personalities meshed, there was no denying that this girl was drop-dead gorgeous. And she could cook!

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” said Lily smoothly. “I hope you saved room for dessert.”

“I always have room for dessert. Especially if it’s anything like the main course.”

“I think you’ll like it even better.” Lily’s enchanting smile made a reappearance as she scooped up the empty plates. “I’ll be right back.”

She vanished into the kitchen and returned with a large fruit tart, which she set directly in front of Kara.

“Mmm, that looks amazing….” Kara admired the bright patterns of strawberries and kiwis and the fluffy mounds of whipped cream. Her stomach was comfortably full already, but the sugar-sweet smell still made her mouth water.

Lily handed her a delicate silver cake fork. “Dig in, then.”

“…Aren’t you going to cut some for yourself?”

“No, honey, it’s all for you.”

The slightly predatory tone of her voice made Kara’s heart thump. “Seriously? You really think I can eat all that?”

“From what I’ve heard, I’m sure you can.” Lily’s hand rested Kara’s shoulder, fingers gripping tight. “I dated Josie for a little while, you know. She told me some things the two of you used to get up to.”

“Ah.” Kara remembered Josie. She especially remembered the night that Josie had helped her eat a few dozen cookies that had been going stale at the bakery. They had discovered that their stomachs weren’t quite as big as they’d anticipated that night. They’d also discovered that sex was a lot more enjoyable when kisses tasted like sugar and your lover was already flushed and breathless.

That had been a couple years ago. Some pleasant months had followed, in which they’d casually messed around with food and sex and the ways those two things intertwined, before Kara had gotten into a serious relationship with someone else.

Lily’s voice broke into Kara’s thoughts. “No need to be embarrassed. We all have our little things.”

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed. I’m just thinking…” Kara turned her head to glance at Lily’s stomach, obviously flat under her fitted top. “When I did stuff like this with her, usually we’d both have a lot to eat.”

“I know. The thing is, I have no interest in food. What I am very interested in is giving orders and watching them be obeyed.” Lily’s voice turned dark and silky. “Would you like it if I ordered you to eat that whole thing?”

Kara felt her cheeks warm up. She’d never been dommed before, nor had she ever really felt an urge to try—but life was all about new experiences. And Lily was just so magnetic. Kara could imagine that maybe there was something appealing about letting her take control.

“Hmm,” she said coyly. “All right. I’ll play.”

“Good.” Lily pulled out the chair next to Kara and sat down. “Do you have a safeword of some sort? You’re going to want one.”

- - -

“Open up.” Lily scooped another forkful off the plate, where the remains of the tart sat as a small mound of crumbs and whipped cream.

“Oof, give me a minute…” Kara pressed a hand against her gurgling stomach. The comfortable fullness from earlier was gone, replaced by a tight, heavy ache.

“Did I say you could have a minute?” Lily’s tone was smooth and dangerous.

Kara felt a flash of annoyance. It was becoming clearer and clearer to her she didn’t find anything sexy about being bossed around. It only made her want to argue. But she kept up her role, opening her mouth obediently so that Lily could slide the fork in.

“Ughhh,” she groaned as she swallowed. “I’m so full, I could explode… I’m really gonna need a belly rub after this.” She arched her back slightly, hoping Lily would take the invitation to touch.

But Lily only scraped up another forkful. “I’ll be the judge of whether you’ve earned that once you’re finished. Now eat.”

Kara sighed and stifled a belch. She’d eaten way too much already and it was really starting to hurt. Part of her considered using the safeword—but there was so little left, it seemed stupid to stop now. Her belly was already aching. There was no way a few bites could make it worse.

It turned out she was wrong about that. As she swallowed the last mouthful, her stomach cramped up in painful protest. “Oww—my belly—oh Creator, that was a mistake….”

“Well done.” Lily’s voice was still sweet and syrupy. “I didn’t think you would actually finish it all.”

“Probably—urp—probably shouldn’t have.” Kara rubbed a hand over her swollen stomach, wincing. “Oooh. I think—I think I need to lie down.“

But Lily was already leaning in to kiss her. For a split second, Kara enjoyed the feeling of her soft, warm lips. Then another wave of pain gripped her stomach and killed any semblance of pleasure. It hurt too much; she was too hot, too full.

“Lily—stop—I can’t. I’m too—ughhh—I really ate too much.” Kara turned her head away. “My belly hurts.”

Lily sighed impatiently. “You should’ve used the safeword if it was too much!”

“Didn’t realize I was this full until after I stopped.” Kara hissed as another cramp seized her protesting stomach. “Oww. Seriously, I don’t feel well.”

Lily’s expression soured. “So you don’t want to make out, then?” 

“I want half a second to breathe, thanks! And maybe—ugh—if you’ve got some kind of antacid?”

Lily spun around and strode off into the kitchen. She returned with a glass of water and a couple of white tablets, which she dropped unceremoniously on the table.

Kara glanced from the tablets to Lily’s sulky expression. “Are you seriously pissed off?”

“Shouldn’t I be? What was the point of all that if we’re not going to do anything now? It’s like you might as well not even be here!”

Kara couldn’t believe her ears. Lily had seemed a bit self-absorbed from the get-go, but Kara hadn’t imagined she would be this callous. The annoyance that had been bubbling in the back of her head swelled into proper anger.

“I might as well not be here, yeah,” she said furiously. “I’ll just go then, shall I?”

That was much easier said than done. Her stomach sloshed and churned at her attempts to move, and she had to grip the edge of the table to get herself upright. It was sheer pride that powered her through the process of walking to the front door and slipping on her shoes.

“What a bitch,” she muttered under her breath as soon as the door swung shut behind her.

Sometimes it felt like the world was full of ‘em.

There was no way Kara was going to make it home while she was still so painfully full, but she had no desire to hang around on Lily’s doorstep either. She managed to stagger to the next street over before sinking down onto a bench.

The night was warm and breezy, and the fresh air made Kara feel a little bit better. Still, she couldn’t stop her anger from smoldering away into disconsolation.

Sometimes it felt like she was dating the same damn women over and over and over again. Ayaladi was a big city in theory, but it sort of worked out that all the girls into girls knew all the other girls into girls—everyone had slept together, everyone was constantly up in everyone else’s business. Kara had a hunch that her open-mindedness had gotten her a reputation as being down for anything, and now assholes like Lily were trying to take advantage of it.

Why was it so hard just to meet someone nice?

“…Kara? Is that you?”

Kara raised her head. A figure stepped into the lamplight and resolved itself into one of her older sisters, Olivia.

“Oh. Hey, Liv.” Her voice was unnaturally thick. She cleared her throat. “What’s up?”

“Just coming home from dinner with friends. What’s up with you?”

“I just left a terrible date.” Her stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly. “Um. Which also involved dinner.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows as Kara’s stomach rumbled again. “Bad dinner?”

“Too much dinner.” Kara patted her belly, trying to settle it a little. “I, um… I really don’t feel too good.”

“Why am I not surprised?” said Olivia with sympathetic amusement. “Let’s get you home, then.” She came over and helped Kara to her feet. “So is that why the date went so bad? Accidental overeating?”

“Well, no. The dinner was great. Just the company that sucked.“

“That’s too bad.” Olivia paused a moment. “It’s good to hear you’re dating again, though.”

“Yeah, well.” Kara was glad it was too dark for Olivia to see her face. “Gotta get back on the horse. Or whatever.”

“Exactly.” Olivia’s voice brightened. “When we get home, I’ll pour you some wine and you can tell me all about why this bitch was so awful, if you want.”

In spite of everything, Kara grinned. “You always know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” she laughed, and then broke off with a groan. “Swap the wine for a nice hot water bottle and I’m down.”

…And that is (finally) the last of the requests I’ve had waiting! :D

I’m still not accepting any new ones for now. Thanks for reading!

[kaisooficrec]

hello sweet peaches! 

this is an extremely long list so we’ve decided to put them under the cut. yes, we’ve counted, and there’s 75+ bottomsoo fics listed, and they’re all from 2016 and after! so… without further ado!

anti-climax - honestly still one of my favourite bottomsoo smut ever. kyungsoo has never experienced an orgasm, and jongin’s gonna change that.

rookie boy - fuck me up real good, shy dom!jongin

backslide - kyungsoo is sexually frustrated bc all the dates he goes on end up with bad sex… so who better to call than his ex boyfriend jongin?

shades of green - !!! daddy kink with older!nini. jongin gets jealous when an old friend gets a lil too touchy with his soo + humiliation kink ohoho yes

velvet dreams - i really love this fic! the writing is amazing, i love the emotions conveyed, especially kyungsoo’s insecurities 

pose for me - model jongin and insecureish ksoo who also becomes a model to spend more time with jongin

translucent you - WET KAISOO need i say more /eye emoji/

love is - kyungsoo basically rides jongin until he cries (i cried too)

iNK - incubus!jongin with an obsession for high schooler!soo (warnings: bloodplay)

love in control - bdsm! kyungsoo goes on the internet to find someone (/coughs/ jongin ofc) to satisfy his particular needs~

come as you are - this is so cute omg, a werewolf/vampire relationship that kaisoo needs to hide from everyone

i am happy when i am with you - abo verse, cute friends to lovers fic where they’re quite unaware of each other’s feelings smh + jongin offers to spend kyungsoo’s heat with him :~)

drawing you - jongin, a fine arts student, draws kyungsoo for his project

i’ll heal you when you’re sick - non au, kyungsoo “takes care” of jongin when he gets sick

a simple life - two broken hearts heal with each other, this is stunnin (warnings: slight dubcon, master/slave)

autumn warmth - sequel to one eyed hue, crossdressing!jongin, queen aistehtik out here breaking gender roles

tifu… by sending nudes to my boss - fuck. yes. the title speaks for itself ;) but mmmm the jongin bicep appreciation in this gets me going

if you allow me - kyungsoo moves into a new apartment and his roommates are… weird. age switch, age gap and bloodplay (hek yes)

sweet against your lips - coffeeshop!au, jongin spills coffee on kyungsoo’s crotch and offers to clean it up :~)

on your knees (pretty please) - LISTEN this fucked me up so good oh my god, now THIS is a Powerbottom Fic. ksoo commanding jongin i just.. holy–

spellbound - kyungsoo goes to a strip club and meets jongin, and then starts seeing him a lot more frequently out of the club

body moves (yeah, just a little bit) - model!soo stylist!jong, wild n passionate sex. if you like this, read the sequel: come on home with me (baby, let it loose) (it’s topsoo!)

love is (for walls) - policeman!jongin gets late for their anniversary and has to pay the price + powerbottom kyungsoo, handcUFFS, barebacking… heck me up  

need you now - cute flustered ksoo buying condoms with his boyfriend for the good times

provocative - kyungsoo has sex with sex god jongin on a dare. absolutely gorgeous writing, the smut scene is poetic. 

deliver my pizza - slight!crack, kyungsoo has a pizza delivery boy kink and guess who gets roped up into roleplaying? 

lamborghini mercy - (warnings: dubcon) kyungsoo works at a car wash and has a crush on rich!nini who rolls in on his laaaaaaaaamb

sins of the flesh - we cannot go without reccing hobash. kyungsoo finds a video of his teammate on a pornsite.

First Times Are Always Awkward, Right? - powerbottom soo (warnings: this is highschool au so they’re both underage)

Can’t Sleep - ksoo is cute and whiny and jongin calls him baby 

Body (guard) - bodyguard!jong, kyungsoo drinks an aphrodisiac akdkalja slight!crack 

Talkative Actions - powerbottom ksoo and awk jong, this is so sweet!!

Like water, we combine - shower sex, domestic, this is purely pwp 

Spaghetti Kiss - non au where jongin is jealous of kyungsoo’s spaghetti kiss w kwangsoo (inspired by that running man ep!)

Kiss You Inside Out - stress relief fluffy smut

Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you - ex!boyfriends, dirty talk

Birthday Sex - well yes bday sex :-) the sexual tension though :o

(First time?) Meeting - they met online and sext and send nudes but dont know they’re bffs irl hmmm

Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you- - exes!kd but they end up having a passionate sex anyway....:--)

you've got the healing that i want - prom night but they get bored! maybe a round in their car will do right~

kristhaswaggerdad’s entire fucking collection (pun totally intended ohoho): getting it on - with toys ;)

             partition (glamorous) - ceo!jongin + car sex 

             here and now - abo verse

from kadi-centred fic fests:

no one dies this time: 

aurora - abo verse, kyungsoo is sent to alpha!jongin for protection and um the lovemaking is intense okay

caught in a comet’s tail - alien/intergalactic/tribal(ish) au, jongin comes from a planet where his tribe is dying and ksoo wants to save him

give in to me - i remember clicking this link so hard when i read the desc the first time i saw it. anyway, ex-boyfriends kaisoo get stuck in an elevator + riding!soo

like gravity - i love this fic so much honestly (psssst it’s got elevator sex)

lips like warm coffee - ex-boyfriends kaisoo spend 7 minutes in heaven :~) (ngl tho i got triggered when ji said “hello mr do”) 

love me - kyungsoo is a very sweet, loving and understanding boyf but then again are we even surprised? (warnings: mentions of depression, will make you hurt in the best way)

mr and mr kim - mr and mrs. smith!au, remember that rough sex scene in the movie? yep. ‘nuff said. 

overtaken - the sex scene is short but as per the third ask, the writing is good and it’s a really fun story + it is bottomsoo lol

put your venom in me - one of my fave dystopian!au where any “reckless” behaviour is banned. it’s both topsoo and bottomsoo; switching is perfectly common and healthy c:

summer snapdragons - the writing is INCREDIBLE, and i am still shook to my core. kyungsoo works as a barista for ceo!jongin (warnings: age gap and age switch)

will you stay with me - LISTEN THIS IS TWD!AU and ya’ll gotta know admin i is the biggest heux for anything with zombies!!!! kaisoo are amazing characters written with such depth, and the entire story is lit give it a chance please (warnings: gore, violence, minor character death, mentions of depression)

you know you love me - !!! gossip girl au for everyones fave gg otp but with kaisoo aka heaven (warnings: slight homophobia, minor character death, drunk!sex, mentions of depression)

10kfrp:

cosmic love - this is so beautiful! kyungsoo falls in love with the native from another planet :’) + JONGIN HAS PINK HAIR WITH FLOWERS IN IT 

dearly departed - they make sweet love on top of a bus in the middle of a zombie apocalypse

forkadionly:

campaigning for your heart - one of the funniest enemies to lovers fics! it’s politics au where kaisoo support different candidates + it’s powerbottom!soo

convoluted desires - war!au, jongin loses his bestfriend seungsoo in the war and he’s broken, when he goes to a brothel he meets seungsoo’s younger brother soo

cosmic fire - a personal fave from fko! the worldbuilding in this is amazing. (warnings: interspecies sex, technically)

hands on you - not very smutty but the author will hit you with that daddy kink outta nowhere hooo boy

locked in love - prison!au, they meet e/o there (prison sex omg)

retrograde motion - long ass incredibly written mama au with some sweet sweet loving? sign me tf up

starboy - omg space enthusiast soo is so cute in this!! and um jongin killed me with his ‘baby boy’ right outta nowhere. a beautiful coming of age type of fic! 

that would be enough - doctor au, both are career driven especially jong but then they start to drift apart and ksoo fears that ji will leave him one day

you are my spring - kaisoo’s relationship blossoms like spring time! (warnings: mentions of depression and anxiety)

And If Skies Could Speak - camp/scout au, soo is there and not allowed to go ‘outside’ the borders, then he meets someone who shows him the place turns out that someone has been smitten with him since day 1 hh

best days of our lives:

kyungsoo’s vitamin d - pure pwp oh my lord. powerbottom cockslut kyungsoo + riding!soo. this will for sure quench your thirst.  

secret’s untold - oh lordy lord the body worship!!! kyungsoo is a fairy (in heat) and he gives off a sweet smell ;) but fr this is wow okay  

rock-a-bye baby - domestic kaisoo smut, they do it in a newly built treehouse for their kids shame on them

rumours - jongin is a mafia leader, and blackmails kyungsoo 

when you say nothing at all - read the warnings, mafia au, ksoo is sad bc jong has always a bunch of pretty girls over but jong actually likes him

you’re all i have - pure pwp once more i’m yelling!! jongin’s lap is kyungsoo’s throne ;) 

bottomsoo fics from other fic fests:

midnight calling - fantasy, horror, (read warnings), i thought this fic was hauntingly beautiful, please do give this a try!

spur of the moment - from do-itall! and yells i’m getting size queen vibes from this /eye emoji/ plus there’s rimming and hung!jongin ohoho

and here are previously answered reqs on our blog with bottomsoo! happy reading lovelies!! (a special shoutout to everyone who thinks we’re apparently topsoo blog or something. though, y’know, we love topsoo too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

KFR admins ♡

[angstymarshmallow]

Being Together is Enough Part 1 - Zig x MC Fanfic

Being Together is Enough Part 1 - Zig x MC Freshman Fanfiction.

[Tiny Note: A little something I’ve been working on. I’m a big fan of Zig so I suppose it isn’t a surprise that I was writing about him again LOL. Erm, originally it was supposed to be just a one-shot, but then I got carried away and decided to write more  (¬‿¬) as per usual whenever I write about anything. So here’s part 1; more of an introduction for part 2 the really good stuff. Thoughts? Criticisms? Likes and dislikes? All are welcomed here!] 

[Summary: Falling for someone has never been easy and it’s terrifying when it’s a new experience, especially when that person happens to be your local barista. Are Zig and MC finally ready to take their relationship to the next level?] 

She walked as briskly as she could muster across Hartfeld’s massive campus. Disgruntled after a long week of class presentations and studying had left her with the self-satisfaction that only students felt after getting through a particularly coarse week. She was looking forward to taking it easy with the upcoming weekend now in sight.

A list of unwanted chores waited at home. There was laundry she’d forgotten to finish, it was her turn to clean the bathroom, and a paper that she had to look over before handing it in the following week. These were all things that should be at the forefront of her mind. But all that could wait, because right now all she wanted to do was peel off her dress and soak her tired feet into the tub. It wasn’t often that she found herself so worn out, but when she did it took a lot to of effort to keep herself from falling asleep on her feet.

Between classes, working on her novel and spending more time outside of home; she was probably spreading herself thin. Already she could feel her eyes dropping a little and was fortunate enough that her dorm was a short walk away.

She pursed her lips as her thoughts drifted towards him. And if she was being honest with herself, he was probably the biggest reason why she hadn’t much time for anything else. A whole month of sporadic dates, bumping into each other across Hartfeld and catching quick drinks before his shift started were all factors that she considered. No matter the time, if he proposed a night out or early morning breakfast – she accepted in a heartbeat.

Maybe she was in way over her head. Maybe they should slow it down. Or maybe this was what she’d always been missing. She’d dated guys before but never anything like this. Never anyone that she thought of so much, and ended up wondering if he thought about her as much in return.

She wanted to blame him, curse him for being so irresistible but there was more to it than that. Whenever they were in the same space, whenever they were alone – she couldn’t explain it. The closest thing that came to mind was magic. Time didn’t seem to exist anymore and hours had always felt like minutes. Their easy-going conversations and companionable moments of silence made her feel as if they were the only two people in the world.

Just thinking about him caused her mouth to twitch before stretching into a smile and sent her heart racing a little faster. She touched her cheeks briefly, feeling quiet surprise at the heat she felt there. She couldn’t think about him without being reminded of all the times they’ve slept together. Sweaty bodies tangled within sheets or her back pressed up against some wall whenever they didn’t have the patience for privacy, their desperate hands seeking to sink into each other in an attempt to find a quick release of all the tension between them.

She bit her bottom lip, suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to see him. This was how it usually started; with one of them wanting to see the other until someone eventually cave in. It was like a little game of cat and mouse to see who could hold out the longest before surrounding entirely at the whim of the other person. Prior to the last time they spent the night together, she vowed that she wouldn’t be the first time to cave in this time. In fact, she was secretly keeping scores; two for two and wanting to break their tie meant keeping away from him since Wednesday.

Trying to push those thoughts aside, she entered the dorm with a small smile to greet her suitemates.

Abbie and Tyler were on the couch, binge watching The Sword and the Flame. She remembered being dimly reminded that they called dibs on their space all week in preparation for the third season premiere. Sitting cross-legged beside them was Zack, his eyes fixated on his phone. There were two box of pizzas on the coffee table.

The other half of her roommates were nowhere in sight.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” She tried to keep the exhaustion out of her tone. She wanted to keep this short and friendly, considering she hadn’t seen much of them lately. “How far are you into season two?” She asked, jerking her chin towards the television set.

Abbie dragged her eyes away from it first. Something remarkable must have been happening on screen because it captivated Tyler’s focus. He didn’t acknowledge her greeting. “Kenna’s gathering her army at Stormholt – last minute preparations, and talking with everyone before the big season finale.”

Few seconds later, Tyler finally managed to divert his attention long enough to nod, enthusiasm evident as his eyes beamed at her with apparent excitement. “It’s leading up to one of the greatest scenes in fantasy history.” He proclaimed.

“You know for people that have already seen this whole show – you’re both acting as if it’s your first time.” She was amused by how much they adored it. She was a fan herself of the show herself, but never could re-watch an entire series.

“What can I say? We’re hardcore fans.” Tyler replied, shrugging.

“Besides, we’re trying not to ruin Zack’s experience.” Abbie said sneaking a glance at him. She reached for the remote and paused the show.

At the sound of his name, Zack glanced up from his phone. He blinked at the rest of his friends in dismay. “Hmm? Did I miss something?”

Abbie rolled her eyes, “Only most of the episode.” Abbie grumbled. Her suitemates knew she wasn’t one to hold back on her thoughts when it came to her friends.

Tyler elbowed her in an attempt to reprimand her short fuse. This happened a lot when they binge watched with Abbie.

“You’d miss less if you were paying attention.” Abbie insisted, folding her arms.

“Oh no, don’t you dare try to make me feel guilty!” Zack wagged his eyebrows at her. “You’re using me as an excuse to re-watch the show.” He tried to appear wounded but she could hear the unmistakable teasing in his tone.

Tyler grimaced, feeling the heavy burden that guilt carried while Abbie quickly tried to deflect. “True, we’d have probably watched it anyway,” Abbie gestured in between them, “But we wouldn’t have as much fun.” A gleeful expression crossed her face, “– seeing your reactions to all the best moments on the show – like Dom training his fire magic with Sei, or Kenna’s time with the monks during the first season.”

“Or the episode when Kenna charmed those mercenaries and spared Severin’s life.” Tyler added.

“Not to mention all the heartwarming moments between Kenna and Gabriel.” She muttered from beside them. Those were some of her favorite moments.

Abbie nodded in agreement. “We wanted to watch it with you so that you could experience everything firsthand. Plus, your reactions so far have been pretty hilarious.”

Zack flushed, “That was only one time! I thought Dom was gonna to die while he was in the spirit world.”

“We didn’t. We never lose faith in him.” Tyler said before exchanging high-fives with his girlfriend.

“What was it that Chris said? A couple that ships together stays together?” She teased, shaking her head ruefully and watching them laugh at the reminder.

“Anyway, it’s basically one of the greatest shows in TV history – especially when Kenna’s in her element kicking ass.” She thumped her fist.

“Or the moments when Dom uses his awesome fire magic.” Tyler interrupted, not wanting them to forget just how cool his powers were.

“Or the moments when Val’s unintentionally hilarious.” She added, earning her a look from Abbie. She hadn’t meant to interrupt Abbie’s rant but she knew she had to stick up for her favorite characters. “Basically, there’s a lot of good reasons why – plus you’re almost at the end!”

Zack rubbed his chin. “Well when you put it that way…” He trailed off.

Abbie’s expression softened when her eyes drifted towards Zack. “And you looked a little down lately; we figured this would be a fun pick-me-up.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Zack said with a light smile, sounding sincere. “I’m glad you guys are always so supportive.” He glanced at his phone again as Abbie and Tyler snuggled closer before un-pausing the show.

A second later, Zack’s phone began ringing. “Ah, it’s Brandon guys – ”

“Go, go –” Abbie made shooing gestures with her hands. “We understand.”

After shooting them an apologetic smile, Zack disappeared down the hall. They heard his door close as Abbie paused the episode again. “We should probably wait.” Abbie mumbled, sharing a mutual look of agony with Tyler. “Just until he gets back.”

“But this is sucha good scene.” Tyler whimpered. He tried to keep the objection out of his voice as he reached for slice of pizza.

Abbie leaned forward and took a bite from of his before sighing. “I know how you feel.” She kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand affectionately. “But it’ll be worth the wait once we see Kenna riding into battle with Dom in all his dragon glory.”

Tyler murmured something low under his breath, earning a laugh from Abbie.

“On that note, I think I’ll leave you guys to it.” She still had her own set of work to do after all, and even though it was Friday – it was better to have a head start on them instead of letting them pile up. “I should probably get started on the bathroom.” She could barely suppress the urge to yawn after those words trailed from her mouth.

Abbie seemed to have noticed. “This week was pretty tough for all of us.” Giving her a sympathetic smile, Abbie added. “You could always put off all the stuff you need to until tomorrow. We don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “It’s my night to do it. What’s the point of having a schedule if we don’t follow it?” She didn’t wait for a response and stole a slice of pizza from the box on the table. She ignored their protests before strolling down the hall, her feet half dragging behind her.

Not long after changing and scrubbing the bathroom tub, she found herself sinking down to the floor. Her earlier exuberance at getting a head start was nearly lost and she wondered dimly how she was going to get through the rest of the weekend. She took comfort in pressing her back against the tub’s cool porcelain steel as she took a moment to catch her breath.

The sound of knocking from the door made her glance up. Taking a few seconds to steel herself, she stood before poking her head out and met Abbie’s careful expression. “Hey Abbie, I’m just about done here.”

“That’s not why I came in to bug you.” Abbie cleared her throat. “I’m actually just letting you know that Zig showed up at our door.”

“Oh?” She couldn’t hide the surprise inside her voice. “Did he just get here?”

“Yeah, he said he tried your cell but you weren’t answering.” Abbie said, frowning. “I told him you were busy but he didn’t budge - said he wanted to ‘whisk you away’.”

“Oh right, I left my phone back here this morning.” She laughed shortly. She felt an unmistakable amount of pleasure at the idea of him missing her. Two days had never felt so long and although she didn’t want to admit it; she missed him too. “Uh, sure – just tell him to give me a second.”

She thought about her own tousled blonde hair, the fact that there were probably stains underneath her fingernails and dusts across her overalls from kneeling on the floor. She wasn’t the slightest bit prepared. But none of that seemed to matter as she quickly edged past Abbie to get to her room. It didn’t seem to matter because the mere thought of him waiting for her evenloped her stomach in tiny of indubitable burrerflies.

And frankly, the rest of the world could wait a little longer.

[martywurst]

YEAR 2: The Worst Comedian (Part 2)

I had an encounter with former Comedy Store talent coordinator, Tommy, who was fired just months prior and was working on developing another home base where he could still play comedy godfather. The Vaucluse Lounge was a mere two blocks away from the Comedy Store and now Tommy was recruiting comics that were still loyal to him and putting on shows. They were calling this place Chaplin's House, but I don't think there was anything historic about it.

It really was an impressive bar/lounge, but management was falling apart. It was a ghost town. I ordered their onion rings and got a pile of American cheese on a couple of turd circles (psst, I'm not really a writer). I ordered something disgusting and got so much more.

"Ooh, that looks good, I'm gonna get that!" one comic said, pinching and stretching some cheese off my plate.

A couple of nights the place was locked up unannounced, black curtains drawn, even though a show was supposed to be going on. Headliners were bailing before their sets.

There were a couple of open mics going on there, too. Tommy would play some acoustic guitar for 30 minutes to get the room warmed up. He played the same three songs over and over. Or maybe it was just the same three chords, I can't remember. He was like one of those dudes that destroy a party by forcing us to listen to a cover of Hotel California. Strictly Hollywood Blvd quality. Then he would hang out for the mic and occasionally give advice to some lucky comic.

After one of my sets, he was suddenly next to me, talking into my ear like David Blaine.

"There's something that's still missing, but I don't know what it is."

"I'm not connecting with the audience?" I asked.

"There was just something missing. Try sitting on a stool and just saying your material, so it's not so (in-your-face gesture) forced. Your material is good, it had an intelligence and you have a good look. It's not about how you look on stage, it's about how you look on camera....really. But I think you just need to say what you have to say- I took it in. You'll get there, I enjoyed it."

Then he patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

Maybe if I worked hard enough I could become a Vaucluse regular! I honestly thought it was cool to get advice from Tommy, despite him being a reputed racist douchebag. I mean, he was once the apprentice of The Comedy Store owner Mitzi Shore, so his opinion has to count for something, right? A racist's opinion is still an opinion. Plus, he really wailed on the guitar!

One night at Vaucluse I waited around for 2 hours to do a 10 minute set. That's actually a good set for that kind of wait, but this night was excruciating. There was a line-up of all male comics that had plenty to say about the opposite sex: Stories varied from "This bitch was sucking my dick," to "I wanted to give her brown eye a black eye!" and so forth. I remember hearing the bartender making pained noises behind the counter, like some victim of a stabbing. left for dead. She had to just stand there and take it...every worthless comedian. Worst of all, EVERYONE got 10 minutes. When the first 30 seconds are torture, the next 9 1/2 feel like a lifetime. When they finally got to me the host said,

"Uhh, you get 2 minutes."

I've never been that pissed at an open mic before. Mother...FUCKER. They were letting the worst people host, nothing ever started on time, the food was godawful, the bartender wanted to kill herself, and no one seemed to give a shit that the place was falling apart. I was mentally trying to stay positive and tune out all the negative shit I'd been listening to, but now I wanted to douse myself in gasoline and tackle the host into the fireplace--that would be such a great closer. My stomach was turning from the onion rings, so I opted for my shitty set instead.

But hey, it's 2 minutes so I did it. I got through a joke-and-a-half. Once I left, I cursed and muttered angrily all the way to the bus, letting the "cocksuckers" and "motherfuckers" fly.

I went home and looked at their Facebook page and saw this ridiculous post,

"Chaplin's House is being called the New Comedy Store...no joke."

Nobody's laughing.

Anyway, that place folded and Tommy moved on to another space where he still occasionally gives out his comedy pointers.

Also in my second year I was doing fewer bringer shows, but I still got roped into a couple more at Flappers. I would quickly get stressed out again and moan to my girlfriend about why I put myself through this. Just reading the emails made me want to puke:

Respond to this email with a head count of how many audience you expect so that we can properly staff the room. 

It takes everyone involved to have epic shows--we do ask everyone to always aim to have at least 5 people per show.  If you are unable to get anyone out please let us know and we will re-schedule you for a date that is more convenient for you to support.

Like I said before, they only want me back when I make some fucking friends!

I decided to not show up at all and go to the Rebel Bite open mic in Long Beach instead. An open mic at a pizza joint was better than doing a bringer show, at least in my head. I wrote back:

Sorry for the delay,   I wanted to get a more accurate count of zero confirmed.    I think my friends tapped out months ago.  Let me know if you want to reschedule or give me the boot.  Or I'll audition again once I have a little fanbase I can depend on instead of wasting everybody's time. Nothing personal.  Thanks.

I shouldn't have felt bad about it anyway, since I bought 4 of my videotaped sets from them.

Then there was the Formosa Cafe. I did it because I was told it wasn't REALLY a bringer show...just sort of. Uggh. I won't mention the names. I can still hear the producer pretending to laugh at other people's sets--so forced and obvious, trying to get the crowd on our side. He'd be looking down at his phone and let out a

"BWAHAHAHAHA!"

Then I'd have to listen to some jerk-off host do his Family Guy impressions for 15 minutes. Then the producer would go up and do the most dated material--many of these bringer show people stick to their one routine. Anyway, what do I know, they're the ones cashing in, right?

I had friends show up for my first and second show, then the third time none of my friends came out and the producer stopped booking me. During past shows, he was blowing smoke up my ass and said all these nice things about my particular brand of humor, but he was only thinking about the head-count. He was a phony just like his forced laughter.

 There were some nice moments. My blues buddy, Street Slim invited me to do a set at The Rainbow Bar and Grill, a really cool rock bar on The Sunset Strip. Just to do something outside the ring of comedians that I was usually bumping heads with felt really special.

My friend Donald and I rented out a black box theater and produced a variety show. It ran 2 1/2 hours and half the audience left, but we had a great time.

I co-produced a comedy show with Jeanne Whitney and Timika Hall at Echoes Under Sunset. We only did 3 shows, but it was a fantastic experience.

I remember bombing at the new UCB on Sunset and when I was walking back to the car, a couple I've never seen before starts yelling at me from their car.

"Marty, you were funny!"

"What?"

"We were inside."

"Really? Thanks, it felt like death in there."

"We thought you were funny."

"Working on it, working on it."

That blew my mind. Who does that? And they remembered my name!

One time they moved a Comedy Store open mic into the Main Room and after we finished our sets, Bill Burr dropped in and did 15 minutes to an all-comic crowd. It was awesome.

Another time I was waiting around for Tony Bartolone's Hat Show to start and the great Rick Shapiro was outside with Rick Wood and Jeremy Bassett. Shapiro was making fun of the Oldtown Pasadena scene and he suddenly gets a glimmer in his eye and this evil grin,

"Let's go to the Mac Store and jerk off!"

It was said with such demented glee. Later we went to get him some Starbucks and he told the barista that his name was Johnny Two Chicks. He was so excited to hear the name called out, but it didn't get the reaction he wanted.

 Then there was the time that I was waiting in the green room for another possible Kill Tony episode at the Comedy Store. Dom Irrera comes in and sits down across from me. It's silent, it's uncomfortable, the guy is amazing, so I'm a little in awe. He asks me if I'm a comic and how long I've been doing it. Very friendly, but I just gave him short answers. Meanwhile, Pat Regan was on stage singing about how much he misses getting jacked off in San Francisco, and Dom and I are just sitting there while this song is in the background. Dom turns to me completely serious and says,

"This song brings back a lot of memories." I barked out a laugh.

I started making goofy set-lists and posting them online. Just a good way to vent about the shit I'd seen at open mics during the week. Here are a few of my favorites:

The usual variety of homophobic/misogynistic shit I'd hear on any given week.

 My second Kill Tony appearance went a little better, but only because I managed to get a few laughs. It was a unique situation because I brought my buddy Dakota Freeman with me, but he was under 21 and wouldn't be allowed inside the club unless he was called up to perform. So I stood outside with him, listening through the door every few minutes to see if we'd get called.

About 30 minutes into the show I got called, but I couldn't open the door from the outside. For a second, the hosts thought I had flaked, but a couple of my friends were in the audience, telling them I was behind the door because I was with a minor. They opened the door for me and at this point there was some confusion because the hosts were under the impression that I was the one underage. Then when it was cleared up Tony says,

"Oh, you're hanging out with underage boys. Ok!"

Before I've even started my set, another pedophile joke had been spiked over my head. You can probably see where this is going.

I didn't gain any Twitter followers this time--in fact, I think I lost a couple.  They probably thought I was really a pedophile.

 Gradually, I found some open mics down in Long Beach, where I had moved in with my girlfriend. There was the SOM open mic at the Rebel Bite pizzeria, The Library Coffeehouse, Blacklight District Lounge and Makai Coffee.

Now if I wasn't feeling the LA scene that week, I had the option to hit some mics in my neighborhood. Rebel Bite, Makai, and The Library were just a mile away. Long Beach was also calmer. I could do longer sets- I did my first 15 minute set at Rebel Bite. I met some nice people. It's funny how these two coffee shops were the polar opposite in terms of an audience--take a look below.

I was also hearing some positive feedback for a change. Sometimes my conceptual ideas would play well and even if they didn't, I'd still be writing the kind of stuff I wanted to try. The support I was getting from my new friends gave me the confidence to try bigger ideas. Showing up to mics and finally having a group of friends to talk to was a nice break. I was so used to being the creeper that was eavesdropping outside a circle of comedy nerds or asking Dean Delray stupid questions in the Comedy Store hallway. Complimenting comics on their podcasts, or a joke that I liked, thinking I always had to go in with a compliment or they'd hate my guts. Then I would fuck up their name anyway, which made the compliment null and void.

I'm still learning to relax, but I'm usually amped up whenever I'm in Los Angeles. I feel the cutthroat competition and that air of judgement. Mostly because I'm carrying it around with me--turn that shit off Wurst, these are your friends! I don't have to prove anything to these comics, we're all showing up to the same mic. Charles Disney was just saying how we ask questions that we want to be asked in return,

"You got any cool gigs coming up? No? NOW ASK ME IF I HAVE ANY COOL GIGS! THANK YOU, I DO! SLEEPAWAY CAMP BABY-MARGARET CHO HEADLINING! ENJOY YOUR SHOW AT P.F. CHANG'S, YA ASIAN FUSION COMIC! "

There's usually 4-5 standard questions (How you doing, got anything coming up, you hitting another mic after this, you ever go to Marty's?) and if there's no conversation beyond that, we're not really friends. It's just surface level pleasantries for insecure comics.

Then there are just genuinely great dudes like Spencer Kalendar, who's never putting on airs and makes me feel like I can just be myself. I think the very first thing he said to me was,

"I remember you from Kill Tony, you're the pedophile guy!"

[shirlleycoyle]

Hackers Dissect ‘Mr. Robot’ Season 4 Episode 6: ‘Not Acceptable’

Episode 6 of Mr. Robot’s final season was pretty heavy, filled with coercion, kidnapping, and threats of violence. We discussed [SPOILERS, obvs] physical security, interrogation, vishing, ZRTP keywords, wiretapping, wiping phone data and more. (The chat transcript has been edited for brevity, clarity, and chronology.)

This week’s team of experts includes:

Emma Best: a former hacker and current journalist and transparency advocate with a specialty in counterintelligence and national security.

Harlo Holmes: Director of Digital Security at Freedom of the Press Foundation.

Micah Lee: a technologist with a focus on operational security, source protection, privacy and cryptography, as well as Director of Information Security at The Intercept.

Yael: My jaw repeatedly dropped during this episode. I think my two big takeaways were 1) social engineering is really hard to defeat when it’s in your personal life (as in, people you know and trust), and 2) there just aren’t a lot of defenses for real-world coercion.

Micah: The episode was called Not Acceptable, and the theme was pretty clearly people doing unacceptable things.

Kidnapping

Yael: We start out with Vera kidnapping Krista.

Harlo: What a thespian. That's some grade-A acting through that monologue.

Yael: How did he know she’d have anything to break Elliot?

Emma: He didn't, but he knew that if anyone would, it'd likely be her. You don't have to know the move will work, you just have to know that it's your best move—and that you probably have nothing to lose but time by making it.

Harlo: Yeah. The relationship between shrinks and clients is incredibly strong.

Yael: I was surprised he didn’t kill Krista. I mean, he killed Shayla just to hurt Elliot.

Micah: We don't know what he did to her yet. She called Elliot and convinced him to meet her, but it was a trap. Maybe she's just hoping this will let her get away unscathed.

Therapist’s Notes

Yael: Client/patient confidentiality is important, but I guess it’s a lot to ask a therapist to risk them and their partner being killed just to maintain it. But I get super sketched out by therapists keeping notes.

Harlo: I WAS TOTES ABOUT TO BRING THAT UP!

Emma: Oh, for sure. Even without coercion… I just tweeted about this. The records being there mean they can be compromised.

Yael: I guess the records saved her because she would’ve had to explain it anyway (and maybe not be believed). Did Krista have a home office? I couldn’t remember. Otherwise, why are the records in her home?

Harlo: Is that HIPAA compliant?!

Micah: For real world people, if a therapist taking notes, or how they store those notes, is something you're concerned about, they should be receptive to talking to you about it and maybe coming up with a system that works for you. I can see why notes would be helpful for a therapist if you're working through issues over the course of years.

Yael: I have had conversations with therapists about what records they would have to release legally, which in Arizona at least is just the dates and progress notes, but I have never spent much time thinking about theft.

Micah: I think in general it's better if your therapist has hand-written notes than digital notes, because at least an attacker would have to physically break in to get them, and can't do it remotely

Emma: Absolutely. That was an issue I had with a therapist of mine. The notes were digital and in a shared system.

Harlo: Apparently, progress notes do not fall under HIPAA compliance, but the therapist’s session notes absolutely SHOULD. This is what frightens me so much about all these newfangled therapy apps.

Emma: Digital records encrypted with deniable encryption.

Yael: What can Krista do to avoid breaking compliance but also not get hurt or killed or have her partner hurt or killed?

Emma: The problem for Krista was that there's no way to do both those things. Vera was a criminal and wouldn't compromise. No witnesses, no liabilities. Resisting duress works a lot better when the duress comes from a system or an actor in a system. They're predictable and controllable. Vera's a rogue agent. Also actual physical defense and alarm/alert systems.

Micah: Honestly, there is no good solution. This is the problem with duress. She could design a system where she doesn't physically have access to the notes without other people's cooperation—encrypting them using Shamir's Secret Sharing scheme for example—but that's not going to prevent them from hurting her or her boyfriend.

Harlo: I speak to a lot of clients about this: you can definitely design lockout systems in the case of duress, but if your adversary is willing to end your life over it, should you?

Micah: Yeah, I agree. It doesn't apply to this specific situation, but in some duress situations, I'd probably rather just unlock my phone or whatever.

Yael: Yeah, the best defense is being willing to die for your beliefs, I guess. If Krista had a gun that maybe could've helped… but still, 3 vs. 1 and they're hardened criminals. I don't like those odds.

Emma: She could have had a canary with Kevin. Everyone should. "If I use this word or say this, then something is wrong."

Yael: Well, she was also gagged.

Emma: I'm just speaking generally.

Harlo: "Bishop, it's your mother!"

Vishing

Yael: I can't think of a single time I would've turned down peppermint mochas from someone I'd hooked up with. That is not a situation that would happen.

Harlo: Great to see Joey Bada$$ still cashing those checks.

Emma: Elliot didn't have to drug her. He just had to make her think he did—or might have.

Yael: Elliot needs Olivia to make a call to her boss to get him to log in; he’s already on the proxy server and needs to swipe his credentials. How does that work?

Micah: Elliot can spy on everything going through the corporate proxy server, but he still doesn't have the login credentials he needs from Olivia's boss. Normally you'd just wait for a while and collect everyone's usernames and passwords as they logged in, but Elliot was running out of time, which is why he needed to make Olivia's boss login.

Harlo: And so he makes Olivia "vish" (voice phish) her boss.

Yael: Isn’t there another way he could’ve done that?

Micah: He would have needed to convince someone with the access he needs to log in quickly, somehow. So maybe he could have figured something out, but it is Christmastime and it's unlikely anyone will be working unless there's an emergency. He figured Olivia could provide a convincing "emergency.” The creds were abugorsky@cyprusnationalbank.com / c0nv3rg3nce37 by the way.

Harlo: what do you think the 37 is? Is Bugorsky a 37-year-old? Is that the number of a ball player?

Yael: 1337

Harlo: Probably NOT lol!

Yael: It's nuts that Elliot thought he could drug an addict and be like "they're hurting you" and "this won't be traced to you" and everything would be dandy.

Emma: I don't think he thought that, or anything about it. He didn't have time to consider it and he didn't have the experience to tell him to. And like she said, he could slip and be "okay." It was part of his routine.

Yael: I mean he had the conversation about crossing a line with Mr. Robot, so I think he kind of knew but was pretending he didn't know because he didn't want to think about it.

Emma: The suicide attempt is something I want to address. It's an extremely real worry. In intelligence and law enforcement, people management is a big job for handlers of assets and agents. They have to watch the asset's status closely and make sure they're getting the support they need and aren't being pushed too hard. If an asset is willing, they're usually safer in this regard but anyone can be pushed enough to break. Unwilling assets, of course, are a lot more susceptible. The things used as leverage can drive them to depressed or suicidal places, and the feelings of betrayal and losing control can drive someone to the brink very easily. Elliot has no experience in this sort of thing and didn't even consider that happening. Realistic for his character, and also one reason why it's a specialized position.

Yael: I'm trying to think what Olivia could've done differently. I suppose she could've called her boss and then warned him afterwards? I wonder if you can get a drug test exemption if you were drugged?

Emma: The best defense against blackmail is not being silent.

Yael: The Bezos approach.

Micah: Exactly.

Yael: I guess one defense for all the characters would be to have never done heroin or had clients or known anybody or hooked up with anybody. Like, if Krista hadn't had clients and Olivia hadn't ever hooked up with Elliot or done heroin. If Elliot hadn't cared about Shayla then Vera never would've murdered her to get to him. So I guess the best defense is to shut down completely, which is impossible. You would have to exist outside of the world you live in, but what kind of life is that? And that's what makes coercion so effective. Everyone cares about something. If you want to not care about anything or anybody, you have to have some form of mental separation which would probably be hard to maintain. Or be its own kind of hell.

Dark Army

Yael: I'm curious why the Dark Army thought Elliot was on their side or whatever

and wanted him alive.

Harlo: Whiterose is still convinced Elliot will join the team!

Micah: Oh yeah what's all that math on that screen that Whiterose was looking at? It's hinting at their endgame.

Yael: But what is the plan that Whiterose thought he'd be into? I guess we'll find out. There's a theory I've been reading that Elliot has a third persona but not sure it makes sense to me.

Harlo: That was also kind of foreshadowed in the beginning of the scene between Dom and her crazy handler. She's listening to a podcast or something, and the narrator talks about a prophet figure with delusions of other characters.

Yael: The theory is that there's a rich security researcher alter ego, which is how he has all this equipment even though he doesn't have a job. Or something.

Emma: Very possible, but he also hacked enough people with big Bitcoin wallets that

I figured he got his money from that, and his job at All Safe. All his money was spent on drugs, housing and tech. He didn't go out or socialize.

Signal’s Old Keywords

Yael: Dark Army made Dom go after Darlene, which was super interesting because she really really didn't want to.

Harlo: Oh, don't you miss the old ZRTP verification days of Signal? In the scene, Dom and that nutjob did it exactly the way you're supposed to. You offer one word, then your partner offers the other, because that's the only way you can be sure the other person isn't lying. I really thought that the SAS [short authentication string] verification in Signal was super elegantly designed on a philosophical level. We can have all the crypto in the world, but you can't code humans’ ability to trust one another.

Micah: It also makes you feel like a spy.

Yael: Plus it's a nice icebreaker to talk about the odd word combos.

Emma: If it's voice, what does it matter? You know it's them. If they'd have to lie about it they could compromise it some other way just as easily.

Yael: Well, it could be man-in-the-middled.

Harlo: Yeah, it's about providing assurance that no one is eavesdropping

Micah: Normally a signal call would be end-to-end encrypted like Alice <==> Bob. But a MITM attack on the call would be encrypted like Alice <==> Eve <==> Bob, where Alice and Bob are actually talking to each other and could recognize their voice, but Eve is still listening in. The two word SAS would be different between Alice <==> Eve and between Eve <==> Bob, which is how you know it works.

Harlo: Although, it's 100% possible to tap a signal call, even without attempting to undermine the encryption.

Emma: Undermining the encryption is the worst way to do it, anyway.

Micah: Yeah, and the hardest way. It's much simpler to hack a phone and spy on its mic and speakers than it is to compromise Signal using a crypto attack.

Yael: How do you do that Harlo? Do you need the phone?

Harlo: Yeah, you just do it the analog way! Like record to a dumb recorder, and make use of a bunch of audio in/out splitters. I do it sometimes. FOR A GOOD REASON. I'M TOTALLY NOT WIRETAPPING YOU ALL BEHIND YOUR BACKS.

Emma: I assume even my encrypted comms are tapped. Everyone should. 🙃

Micah: Oh, I've done that, to record an interview on a Signal call. You can also do it even the lower-tech way: put the call on speakerphone and hit record in Audacity on a laptop.

Yael: I've put Signal on speaker and taped stuff, too, but I guess I don't understand how it works if you're trying to wiretap someone else's phone, though.

Emma: You can either try to intercept it and decrypt it, or you can hack a device on either end of the call and gain access to the whole thing. The latter is simpler and gets you more.

Harlo: But if you want film-grade quality, you have to get geekier with the A/V.

Dom and Darlene

Yael: I was trying to figure out if Darlene was social engineering Dom by bringing up their night together. Which I totally support even if she was trying to avoid getting killed and all.

Emma: I don't know her intent, but humanizing yourself is a classic move when dealing with captors or threatening actors.

Yael: I'm not sure what Darlene and Dom could've done differently, except maybe making a run for it faster.

Emma: Run away faster, prepared an ambush, staged a scene to send people away.

Micah: Right when Dom's handler walked in, and Darlene was holding the gun, she could have shot her.

Emma: Dom should've had a plan to warn people as soon as the general threat became apparent..

Yael: I guess Dom could've shot her, too. But she was worried about her whole family dying, no big deal. (Joking, obvs.) I feel weird talking so casually about this episode with how heavy it was.

Emma: Well, that was a known threat she had time to deal with and prepare for.

Yael: Dom could've tried to tell the truth to the police and get put in protective custody or something, IDK. But there's Dark Army in the PD, so…

Harlo: And remember last season, when they massacred the entire squad in China?

Micah: I don't know how you really prepare for that threat. Especially since her mom totally wouldn't understand. If she could rely on her family quickly getting the seriousness of it maybe they could have figured something out

Emma: That's what she would have had to spend time figuring out—how to communicate it effectively.

Wiping phones

Yael: Darlene wiping her phone was a good quick move, though. How do you wipe your Android phone that quickly?

Harlo: FASTBOOT! Darlene's pretty fast with the fastboot 🙂

Yael: What’s the quickest way to wipe your iPhone?

Micah: Settings > General > Reset > Erase All Content and Settings > Erase Now > type passcode.

Harlo: Yeah, that's the quickest. You can set your iPhone settings to erase all data on 10 failed attempts to unlock, but those 10 attempts take forever to exhaust. So don't rely on that under duress.

Yael: I wonder if you can set up a shortcut with iOS’s new shortcut feature.

Harlo: With Fastboot, you don't have to decrypt your phone to wipe it, whereas in iOS you do. Pretty interesting from a duress standpoint. I noticed that Darlene had the default wallpaper on her phone. I can speak from personal experience that, in general, people who keep the default wallpaper on the phone are up to no good 🙂 Just speaks to a "yolo, this is a crime burner" logic. But ultimately, I don't think Darlene's out of the woods yet. Elliot's still going to be pinging her over Signal.

Yael: Oh, it doesn’t delete your Signal when you wipe?

Harlo: Dark Army just has to SIM jack her, then install Signal themselves and wait for Elliot to start pinging again. And in 2016, we didn't have registration lock!

Micah: That's a very good point. Unless his modified Signal client detects that the safety numbers changed and doesn't trust the new ones.

Yael: What’s registration lock?

Micah: Registration lock is a feature of Signal that prevents someone from registering an account with your phone number without knowing a PIN, so if someone calls your phone carrier and convinces them you got a new SIM, and takes over your phone number, they can't take over your Signal without first knowing your registration lock PIN.

Emma: I'm wondering if the ping was automatic with the GPS. He'll know her last known location, leading to the next encounter… maybe. Or vice versa. Elliot's captured, anyway.

Harlo: I hope Darlene had that backed in, or else Elliot's toast!

Vera Kidnapping Elliot

Yael: Elliot knew he was walking into a trap and still walked into it.

Harlo: When I was a kid, and about to go out with my friends, my mom used to yell after us, "if one of you gets kidnapped, you ALL better get kidnapped." This episode made me think about that awesome phrase…

Yael: I don’t knowDK what Elliot can do now. Kick out the back light, I guess. But he's far less of a sympathetic character after the Olivia thing.

Micah: Yeah I agree, that was fucked up.

Emma: Is it really a new line, though? Elliot's "you should have thought about that before you worked for them" logic was there from the beginning.

Yael: I think it’s different. Iit's so personalized. it wasn't just her losing money.

Emma: Losing money makes people lose their children, too. It causes them to relapse. It ruins their lives. Costs them their homes. Ends marriages.

Yael: This still seemed worse, though.

Emma: Yes. One person instead of 10,000. Tragedies and statistics.

Yael: Well, before he was CANCELING debts. Sso the only people who would lose money were banks, corporations and rich people. It would SAVE marriages etc. if people had no debt, at least in their perspective.

Emma: Random people working for eCorp. Every single employee had their livelihood put at risk. "You should have thought of that before you worked for them as a receptionist."

Yael: So, uh, the Vera vs. Dark Army showdown next episode is sure gonna be interesting. I mean, I'm assuming they find Elliot's location…

Hackers Dissect ‘Mr. Robot’ Season 4 Episode 6: ‘Not Acceptable’ syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[calebswitching]

Scene Auction - Caleb/Eric

Date: Friday night, June 14

Where: Eric’s suite

Summary: Caleb and Eric try a more intense scene with the intent of pushing Caleb into a deeper subspace.

@ericxanders

Caleb was nervous.  It had taken a lot of courage to describe the scene he’d asked for in the scene auction, especially because he knew whoever took it would ask for details.  And now it was Eric, and Caleb knew that Eric was going to ask a lot of questions, because Eric knew him so intimately already, and honestly, Caleb was scared.  He was scared at how much he might have to reveal.  But he was keeping it together.  He trusted Eric.  He could do this.  So he came to Eric’s room when he was supposed to, and now he was in the living room, kneeling at Eric’s feet like he had so many times before.  It was comforting in its familiarity, and because he knew he was allowed to lean the side of his head on Eric’s knee, which he had done.

‘You’re so pretty like this.’ He hummed, stroking his fingers through Caleb’s hair. There wasn’t a rush on this, and he wanted to make sure Caleb felt as relaxed as possible before they started talking. He had every intention of pushing him to share today and not backing down. ‘A rather amusing coincidence that I won your scene hm?’ He commented. ‘More interesting perhaps that you didn’t tell me this was the kind of thing you wanted.’ He gave his hair a light tug and smiled. ‘Explain to me exactly what you were asking for. What do you want out of this scene sweet boy.’

Caleb leaned into Eric’s touch and smiled up at him softly.  He shouldn’t be nervous, he knew.  This was still Eric, he was safe here.  Eric wouldn’t let him be hurt.  But he was anxious anyway.  Talking was just so hard.  Maybe he should have asked for a simpler scene.  “I was surprised, Sir.  I was expecting to have someone I’d never been with before, but then it was you.”  He smiled.  “Not disappointed, though.  You know I love to submit to you, always.”  Eric’s second comment, though, made Caleb look down guiltily.  See, this was why he never said anything about what he wanted.  He’d have to explain.  “I…  It’s kind of hard to explain, Sir,” he started quietly, fidgeting with his hands in his lap.  “I want.. Um.  It’s a headspace that I go to sometimes, but.. Not every scene.  The best way that I know how to get there is for my Dominant to be… harsh, I guess.  Strict.  Verbally, physically, sexually, any or all of them…  To push me.  Like… push me down into a place where there’s nothing but submission.  My Dom won’t even let me think of anything else.  Nothing but them.  It… sometimes a lot of pain can get me there.  Or just if you’re strict with me…”  He looked up at Eric helplessly.  “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to explain it, and I know it’s not really a specific kink or anything…”

‘You’re doing well Caleb.’ The first and most important thing to do was reassure the Switch. He needed Caleb to hear him say he was doing a good job, he needed pride to colour his tone because he was proud of him. He knew this was a big step and he knew how difficult Caleb found it. ‘I can be strict with you, and you know how happy I am to play with your pain kink.’ He teased. It felt strange to say ‘how much I like to hurt you’ but essentially that was true. ‘Take your clothes off submissive.’ He decided. He was finding a more Dominant headspace every time he played with Caleb and it was something he was keen to explore; that was what had inspired him to like the scene in the first place. ‘For the rest of the afternoon, you’re not to be on the furniture, you’re to crawl, and you ask my permission before everything you do.’ They’d explored TPE before and he was looking forward to pushing that even more.

Caleb’s expression turned a little hopeful, though he was definitely still searching Eric’s face for any sign that the Dominant was displeased, or even just confused.  He didn’t see one.  Eric looked as confident and kind as he always did.  Caleb nodded and stood promptly to start stripping off his clothes.  He didn’t make a show of it, just pulled them off mechanically and then roughly folded then and set them on the floor under the coffee table, out of the way, then dropped to his knees again.  He lowered his gaze submissively as Eric gave him instructions.  His expression was serious, but it wasn’t because he was unhappy.  He was nervous, but he wanted this.  He wanted it so bad. “Yes, Sir.  I understand.  Thank you, Sir.”  He paused for a second, then asked in a very quiet voice, “Am I allowed to speak, or do I need to ask for permission each time, Sir?”

‘I think we have a long way to go before you feel comfortable speaking to me freely, about all the things you think and worry about.’ He decided after a minute. ‘You’ve made a lot of progress and the last thing I want to do is risk that.’ He explained. ‘So no, you can speak freely. I’m not at a place where I feel comfortable restricting that with you.’ Honesty, he had come to learn, was always the best policy. He hoped by being honest and open, it would encourage both his submissives to mirror that behaviour.

Caleb cringed a little, even though he knew that Eric didn’t mean that as a rebuke.  It still felt like one.  Like he was being told he wasn’t being honest with Eric.  He was trying.  He just nodded and murmured, “Thank you, Sir,” when Eric explained.  He took a slow breath and adjusted his posture minutely, making it perfect, as a way to keep himself from fidgeting.  His head was bowed, but his shoulders weren’t hunched, they were low and relaxed, his back straight, his palms flat on his thighs.  He still couldn’t manage to say all the things Eric wanted him to say, but he could do this right, he could kneel properly, he could be obedient.

‘You’re nervous aren’t you sweet boy?’ He was trying to read him and he was sure he was right. This was Caleb talking about something he wanted and needed and Eric knew that was difficult for him. He reached down and threaded his fingers through Caleb’s hair, allowing his nails to scratch lightly against the nape of his neck. ‘It’s okay if you’re nervous. We’ll go slowly. We can ease into things.’ He promised. ‘Come lay over my lap submissive.’ He instructed firmly. ‘It’s been too long since I had you squirming with a red ass.’ It was a familiar act, something he knew his boy always responded well too and he hoped the introduction of pain play would help begin to guide his headspace to the deepest part of his submission.

Caleb nodded.  Of course he was nervous.  Talking about these things was so difficult.  He had hoped, when he requested the scene, that whoever picked it wouldn’t make him talk about his emotions or anything, they would just accept that he wanted a strict, rough scene.  But Eric had picked it, and Eric knew him too well to think he’d ask for things for no reason.  So of course he was nervous.  He was scared Eric would think less of him, and he was scared he wouldn’t be able to express himself the way Eric wanted him to.  He leaned into the Dominant’s hand, and then nodded and climbed up over his lap quietly.  He knew Eric was right, a spanking would help quiet his nerves and get him into a better headspace.  He laid himself across Eric’s legs and pillowed his head on his arms on the couch next to Eric.

‘You’re so beautiful.’ He praised. He was completely comfortable allowing his hands to roam freely over Caleb’s back, and the over the curve of his ass. He felt very strongly that both his boys were insanely attractive, the most attractive, and anyone who disagreed was an idiot. ‘Close your eyes and take three deep breaths. Then I want you to tell me your place submissive.’ He instructed. ‘Keep your eyes closed and just focus on my hand. Find the rhythm. Feel every smack.’ He encouraged, waiting until Caleb had followed through before being his hand down in a quick, stinging slap.

Caleb was already starting to relax, just from the feeling of Eric’s hands on him.  He was safe here, with Eric taking care of him.  It was easier to believe that than it had been a second ago.  He did as he was told and breathed in slowly, three times.  It was quiet, and it felt almost strange to speak up, but he murmured, “My place is submitting to your will,” in a quiet, tranquil voice.  He always said whatever came to mind when Eric asked him that question, and Eric had yet to tell him his answer was wrong.  He nodded slightly, but kept his eyes closed and focused on relaxing his body.  The first spank made him inhale sharply through his nose, but as the sting faded into heat, he relaxed, his whole body going limp.  He needed this, and he knew Eric would give him more.

He liked the answer to Caleb’s question. He liked the routine that seemed to be developing of him asking the question and Caleb answering so beautifully. He liked to remind Caleb he was a submissive, his submissive; and he knew the Switch thrilled at the reminder. The change in his voice was obvious and it made Eric grin. He built up slowly; each slap starting off smooth and slow. His skin heated slowly and as he sped up, he noticed how hot, how flushed he became and how quickly. ‘What a beautiful, needy submissive,’ He mused as though he were talking to a third party. His ass was now a bright, vivid red and Eric was not ready to be finished. Caleb could take much more, would enjoy much more and he delighted at the opportunity to give it to him. ‘You know what’s missing though? Your ass is empty beautiful. I need to correct that.’

The swats at first were more pleasant than painful, honestly, just hard enough to make him relax in the knowledge that Eric was going to take care of him and give him what he needed.  As they got harder and faster, he started to arch his back a little bit, pushing his ass up, begging silently for more.  Eventually, he even started to make soft breathy sounds involuntarily as the spanking continued.  His whole ass was stinging brightly now, and it was perfect, it felt so much better than he had a few minutes ago, when he had been so nervous.  There was nothing to be nervous about now.  All he had to do was stay still on Eric’s lap and let the pain wash through him.  It was far less pain than he could take, but enough to put him into a slightly more submissive headspace.  When Eric commented on his ass being empty, Caleb arched a little bit, trying to show that he was offering his ass openly.  “Please,” he murmured.  “Please fix it, Sir.”

‘Such a sweet, needy submissive.’ He teased fondly, landing a particularly hard smack across his cheeks. He brought his fingers round to Caleb’s mouth, and pressed three passed his lips. ‘Suck.’ Was the only verbalised instruction. He could feel his own headspace changing. It was easier to fall into a mindset where he didn’t worry quite so much and it was all down to how wonderfully Caleb responded to him.

Caleb jerked at the harder slap, and let out a very soft moan.  He wasn’t expecting the fingers in his mouth, but it didn’t take any thought to obey.  He wrapped his lips around them and sucked them into his mouth all the way to the knuckle.  He sucked on then gently, but eagerly, exploring them with his tongue, and making sure to get them as wet as possible.

‘How rough do you want me to be submissive?’ He wanted an answer but he wasn’t prepared to remove his fingers from his mouth to allow him to do so. He would just have to try to talk around them. ‘I can’t hear you boy, you’re going to have to speak up a little.’ He teased, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to be the Dominant Caleb needed, and figuring out the right way to do this would be part of it. He’d managed successfully so far with both him and Maverick; fake it ‘til you make it.

Caleb never knew how to answer a question like that, because he wanted to do whatever his Dominant desired, but he knew that he’d been the one to ask for a rough scene, so he couldn’t just equivocate like that.  But then of course there were Eric’s fingers in his mouth…  “Please,” Caleb tried to say, but it came out more like a muffled “eesh,” and he flushed red when Eric teased him about it.  For a second, he just sucked on Eric’s fingers, but he knew he wouldn’t get away with not answering.  “Harder,” he said, trying to enunciate past Eric’s fingers, and it was muffled but at least had two distinct syllables and was mostly intelligible.  “Please,” he tried again, marginally more successfully.  “Rough, please.”  He wasn’t sure if ‘rough’ was discernible or not, but maybe Eric would get it in the context.

He’d plug him eventually, but right now, he wanted to enjoy opening him up slowly. He pulled his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop and spread his cheeks before spitting directly over his hole. He had lube to hand in case this really wasn’t enough but rough was what his boy wanted and he was more than willing to play with that. He pressed two fingers against his rim, and applied consistent pressure until he was past the tight ring of muscle. ‘I think you ought to be plugged always.’ He mused, speaking to distract him from the initial uncomfortableness. He watched him carefully, looking for any sign that saliva wasn’t cutting it as lube and that it was venturing beyond rough and into the bad kind of pain. ‘You’re just so beautiful like this submissive. Beautiful and mine.’

There was something humiliating about Eric spitting on his hole and using that for lube, but in his current headspace, all that did was push Caleb further down into submission.  It felt right, honestly.  It felt like how he should be treated.  He gasped softly when Eric pushed two fingers into him.  There was far more friction than there would be with proper lube, but the burn of it didn’t hurt that much.  He pushed his hips up, begging for more.  “Please,” he murmured, now that he could speak again.  “Please, please, Sir.”  He wanted to be plugged, like Eric said, he wanted Eric to fuck him with his fingers, he wanted anything Eric would give him.

‘Please, please.’ He echoed, fondness colouring his tone as he echoed Caleb’s words. ‘Your voice is music to my ears right now. You have no idea how much I love seeing you let go, seeing you give in to the needy slut that you are. My needy, sweet boy.’ He praised. He fucked him slowly. He could feel the friction, the slow drag as he worked him open and he could only imagine how it felt to his boy. ‘Off my lap now submissive. I need to get something to fill this needy hole of yours.’ He guided Caleb off his lap. ‘Forehead to floor. Wait for me here. I won’t be long.’ He wouldn’t be; he knew exactly what he wanted; the same vibrating plug they’d used before and a gag that would muffle his words and make him drool. When he returned, he grinned. ‘Look at my pretty boy.’ He hummed. ‘Stand up and bend over.’ He instructed immediately.

The friction of Eric’s fingers had begun to hurt, now, but in the best way.  Maybe it was because Caleb was already slipping into subspace, but he wanted that pain.  He wanted it to hurt, he wanted to be used, to feel like his comfort wasn’t a concern.  These urges mixed with the praise he was hearing from Eric, making him feel so good, so wanted.  When Eric pulled his fingers out, Caleb let out a strangled whine in protest, but he obediently slid off of his lap and onto the floor on his knees, folding over to press his face into the carpet, down where he belonged.  He heard Eric walk away, and the distance ached, but at least he could stay here, where Eric put him, and not have to look up or think or until his Dominant came back.  It only lasted a minute, and then Eric was speaking to him again, and Caleb let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and stood.  He bent over immediately, legs spread, and used his hands to part his ass cheeks for Eric.

‘Look at you.’ The awe and adoration he felt for Caleb was evident immediately. ‘You’re so good beautiful. I don’t even have to direct you. You already know what I want.’ When it came to the plug, he knew he’d have to use lube. It would be too rough to try it without, or to try it with spit. At the end of the day, it was still important that Caleb enjoyed this. He used a minimal amount and didn’t waste time plugging him. He watched with arousal as Caleb stretched around the toy and he gave a hard smack across it once it was fully sheathed inside him. ‘Turn around and open your mouth now submissive. I have a special gag, just for you.’ It was, essentially, a penis gag. It wasn’t too thick or too long; it wouldn’t make him feel choked but it would leave his mouth full and make speaking very difficult. ‘If you can’t say your safeword, you click your fingers.’ He instructed, as he brought the gag to his lips. He secured it, and looked him over. ‘How does that feel submissive?’ He prompted. His tone said he wanted an answer.

Caleb flushed with pride at the praise and the knowledge that he had pleased Eric so well.  That was all he wanted.  If Eric was pleased, then nothing could be wrong.  He let out a soft noise when the plug went in, and then a gasp when Eric spanked him, causing the plug to jolt inside him, making his cock jerk in interest.  When Eric told him to turn around, he dropped back to his knees without even thinking about it.  Staying on his feet just wasn’t something that crossed his mind in this state.  He looked up at Eric with open adoration, and opened his mouth.  He ran his tongue along it and sucked instinctively as it went in.  It wasn’t too big, just enough to make him feel like he was full at both ends, like he was being properly used.  It wasn’t nearly as good as having Eric’s cock in his mouth, of course, but he was just happy that Eric knew he needed to be controlled like this.  He nodded at the instruction.  He didn’t think he’d ever safe word, but he would remember anyway, because Eric wanted him to.  At the question, Caleb just moaned softly and closed his eyes.  He didn’t know what to say, and speaking around a gag was difficult and humiliating.

‘When I ask you a question boy, I want you to try and answer every time. Using your words is important and a privilege. It’s hard, but you always have to try.’ There was a lesson buried in there somewhere and he hoped Caleb would get the hints he was dropping. ‘I have a fun little treat set up for you in the playroom.’ He grinned. ‘I want you to follow me there, on your hands and knees just like we discussed.’ His first goal was to push Caleb into this headspace, this beautiful headspace where the only thing that existed was his submission. Pain, he figured, would be the best way to do that and he’d planned to incorporate that from the moment he won his scene. The element of control would come even more into play afterward. He walked quick enough that Caleb would have to fight to keep up, and when he led him through, he directed him immediately to the spanking bench, ‘this is furniture you’re always going to allowed on submissive.’ He explained with a grin. ‘Up you get.’ He patted the leather bench with his hand. In front of it was a mirror, covered at the moment so Caleb wouldn’t be able to identify what it was, and he was eagerly anticipating the look on his face.

Caleb looked down, ashamed.  Eric was right, speaking was a privilege, he could easily be told to be silent, and it was ungrateful of him not to try harder.  “I’m sorry,” he tried to say, but the vowels were muffled and it came out as a quiet “mm uh-rry.”  He looked up again when Eric mentioned a treat, surprised and curious.  He nodded and dropped down onto all fours to follow Eric.  He had to shuffle along quickly, and managed to get a bit of carpet burn on one of his knees, but he didn’t much care, he was too focused on Eric to notice.  He nodded at Eric’s clarification about the spanking bench, and clambered up onto it, quickly getting comfortable and then turning his head to watch Eric.

‘Absolutely fucking beautiful.’ He hadn’t exactly planned to say it but the words left and he was glad he said it. He never wanted Caleb to doubt how incredibly attracted to him he was. He moved to stand in front of him. ‘Before I strap you down, I want you to undo my belt for me submissive.’ He instructed. His fingers toyed with his hair and when the buckle was loose, he pulled the accessory free from the belt loops. He allowed the leather to trail over Caleb’s skin, before he set it down and went about securing him to the bench. He wanted him to feel free to struggle and writhe with the fear of falling. Pleased with his bondage, he pulled the sheet from the mirror and let Caleb see his reflection. ‘Your eyes are not allowed to close. You’re going to keep looking forward and watch everything that I do to you, every reaction you have.’

Caleb smiled around the gag, which really resulted in him smiling with his eyes, but it was clear he was enjoying the praise.  He reached out without hesitation to unbuckle Eric’s belt with gentle, reverent fingers, excited about the prospect of Eric beating him with it.  He loved the hard sting of the belt, and it felt so personal, being something Eric wore.  He settled on the bench and stayed still as Eric bound his limbs to it, which helped Caleb relax.  He didn’t have to worry about staying still when he was tied down.  He could jerk or writhe, and the bonds would hold him in place, meaning that he didn’t have to concentrate on not moving.  He looked up when Eric moved in front of him, and blinked in surprise when he revealed the mirror.  Caleb could see himself, tied down, naked, gagged.  It was a strange sensation to actually see what he looked like when he was like this.  He nodded at the instruction and looked up at Eric to make sure the Dominant knew he understood.

Confident that Caleb understand, he picked up a leather paddle and took up his position behind him. He struck him hard and quickly; five times in succession and he watched his skin flare red. It was a sight he knew he’d never tire of. A quick click to a pocketed remote started the plug vibrating and then he hit him again. Pain played such an important role for Caleb and at first he thought he might be pushing himself out of his comfort zone but the more they’d tried it, the more he saw just how much pleasure his boy took from it and that spurred him on. He switched the plain paddle for one decorated with studs, and he angled smacks against his cheeks, across the back of thighs and made sure to pay special attention to his sit spot. He wanted him bruised and wincing in the days that would follow.

Caleb jerked when the paddle hit him and sent pain searing through his skin.  Each swat jolted the plug in him as well, making the sensation of it all deeper and more exquisite.  He let out soft, muffled noises with each hit, but when the plug started to vibrate in him he moaned.  Eric kept hitting him and the pain began to override his senses, mixing with the pleasure of the vibrator, making his dick harden and start to form a bead of precum at the tip.  When Eric switched to the studded paddle, Caleb began to give short, gasped moans with each swat.  He tugged on the straps holding him down, trying to writhe as the pain washed over him, again and again, and his moans turned into sharp cries.  The whole time, he could see himself in the mirror, watched his face contort as he grimaced in pain, watched his skin steadily flush and start to shine with a thin layer of sweat, watched as he wriggled and tugged uselessly.  It was so strange to see himself like this.  Strange and humiliating.  He looked so desperate and needy.  And it didn’t help that he knew if he wasn’t gagged, he’d be begging for more between swats.  He really was just a slut, wasn’t he?  A slut for Eric to play with.  

‘So beautiful baby.’ He hummed. He loved playing with pain and he loved how Caleb responded. It was so physical, so immediate and it made his cock twitch. He was practically vibrating with excitement when it was time to switch to the belt. This was something new, and there had been something intense about making Caleb take it off, knowing they both knew exactly what it was going to be used for. He cracked it against his skin five times in quick succession. The sound was beautiful, the marks it left on his skin were thrilling and the way he writhed blew his mind. ‘I wonder if you could come like this.’ He mused. ‘My sweet boy.’ He angled the next flick of the belt closer to his balls but didn’t quite make contact. ‘Do you want me to make you cum beautiful?’ He asked, and grinned as his boy tried to answer.

Caleb cried out at the hard impact of the belt, moaning around the gag.  His whole ass ached and burned, making him arch up and tug on his bonds, but the fact that they held him in place was a comfort.  The strikes from the belt all blurred together in a haze of pain, he didn’t even know how many times Eric hit him, but it didn’t matter.  He could see in the mirror the way his pupils were blown wide, his eyes looking clouded and dark, and starting to shine with unshed tears.  And despite all of the pain, Eric’s voice washed over him, soothing him, telling him as much from his tone as his words that he was pleased with Caleb, that Caleb was his good boy.  That last strike of the belt, so low on his ass, so close to his most vulnerable bits, made him yelp loudly and clench down on the vibrator, which only served to make the pain and the pleasure swirl together even more.  He was achingly hard, but he had hardly noticed his cock, too deep in subspace to care about his own desires.  All he wanted was Eric, the pain Eric would give him, the sound of Eric’s voice, the touch of Eric’s hand.  He moaned around the gag at Eric’s question, and tried to nod.  He wanted anything Eric would give him.  Pain, pleasure, anything, as long as Eric chose it for him.

He was so marked now, skin so red that Eric knew even his hand would cause a wonderful sting. After several more smacks of the leather belt, he switched back to his hand. He was desperately curious to see if pain alone was enough to make Caleb cum and he wanted that pain to come from his hand, rather than a tool. ‘I want you to cum for me. You have permission.’ Thwack. His hand landed with a hard smack. He peppered them between his words; finding the way his hand had started to sting wonderfully arousing. ‘I want you to cum without me ever having to touch your cock submissive.’ He didn’t know if it was enough and he wouldn’t push him too far, he rationalised. But then, Caleb wanted to be pushed. That was the whole point of this exchange. He increased the vibrations, and landed his hand across the base of the plug. ‘Let me hear you baby.’

Caleb cried out as the belt continued to send pain shooting through him like electricity, and he squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace, causing tears to fall down his cheeks.  By the time Eric switched back to his hand, Caleb had started to actually cry, tears streaming from his eyes and his moans now turned into choked sobs.  He was so sore and raw that even Eric’s hand made him jump and yell each time it landed, but it was a downgrade of intensity from the belt, meaning that Caleb was able to process more of the pleasure along with the intensity of the pain.  He was so deep in subspace, all he wanted was Eric’s voice and touch, there were no thoughts in his head outside of Eric’s orders.  Caleb was desperate for more, and he arched up, trying to push his ass out to show Eric how good he could be.  He didn’t know if he was capable of coming like this, but he knew for sure that he wanted to, he desperately wanted to, only because Eric wished it.  He didn’t care about his own orgasm, even though he knew he would enjoy it.  He only cared that Eric wanted it.  He tried to focus on the pleasure, especially from the vibrator, but he was too deep in subspace to be able to direct his attention like that.  He couldn’t think anymore, he could only feel.  But Eric helped him by slapping the plug and making it jolt in him, setting all his nerves alight.  Eric always helped him, he thought, Eric was such a good master, he always gave Caleb what he needed.  Caleb moaned around the gag, sucking hard, clenching down on the plug, and opened his eyes again.  It was what he saw in the mirror, not just himself, a complete and utter mess, totally undone by his master, but Master himself, also visible in the mirror, his eyes dark and intent, that pushed Caleb over the edge.  He stared at the mirror and cried out again, every muscle tensing as he came.

It was achingly beautiful. It was one of the most pain-intense scenes he’d ever done and it was beyond perfect. Caleb was more than he ever could have asked for and Eric didn’t have the words to express his pride. He continued to spank him through his orgasm; slower and lighter as he tried to guide him down slowly. When he was satisfied Caleb had enjoyed every last second of pleasure, he moved around to his front. ‘Beautiful boy.’ He murmured. He stroked his thumb across his cheeks, and brushed the tears away. ‘You always make me so proud.’ He praised warmly. His fingers immediately went to the buckle securing the gag. ‘I’m going to take this out now. You don’t have to say anything yet. Just breathe nice and slowly sweet boy.’ He knew that was Caleb’s favourite pet name, and reintroducing it now seemed like the right move. He pulled the toy from his mouth slowly, gently; and brushed his thumb over his lower lip. ‘You’re my good boy. You did so well.’ He praised. ‘You can sink into that headspace. I’m here and you’re safe. It’s okay to stay there.’

Caleb almost sobbed as the orgasm washed through him, turning the pain into exquisite pleasure.  It was intense, more than his normal orgasms, and for a long minute afterwards Caleb’s mind was blank of anything but contentment and sheer carnal pleasure.  Even when his brain started to come back online, he was still deep in subspace, drifting, freed from any burden of thought.  He looked up at his master when he came in front of him, and tried to smile, but the gag was in the way.  Still, he stared up at him adoringly and leaned heavily into his touch.  The praise was everything to him.  He was what Master said he was, after all.  So if Eric said he was a beautiful boy, and his good boy, then that was what Caleb believed himself to be in that moment.  It filled him with joy and pride, seeing how well he’d pleased Eric.  Caleb relaxed his jaw to let Eric remove the toy, and when Eric touched him again, he dipped his head so he could kiss his master’s palm.  He sighed and nodded, relieved when Eric told him he could stay here in this headspace.  He believed it to his core, that he was safe, because Eric was here, and his master always took care of him.  

‘I’m gonna untie you now, and then I’m going to help you up. You’re allowed to walk, just because I want you to lean on me if you really unsteady. I’m gonna clean you off, and then we’re going to relax for a while. Just you at my feet.’ He detailed exactly what was going to happen as clearly and as simply as possible. He wanted Caleb to understand exactly what was expected of him. He cupped his face first and laid a soft kiss against his lips. ‘I’ll get you some water to drink too sweet boy.’ He remained in his eyeline as much as possible, glancing towards the mirror every so often and smiling at him. He guided him up from the bench and slid his arm around his waist. ‘That’s it, lean on me baby.’ He encouraged. He liked this part. This part where he could be as gentle as he’d been rough. ‘Whenever you’re ready, just let me know how you’re feeling. You only have to talk when you feel okay doing so.’ He assured him, as he walked him through to the bathroom.

Caleb nodded as Eric explained what he was going to do. He was too far down in subspace to really think much about anything, but none of that sounded bad to him. Mostly, he was just happy that his master was touching him and talking to him and was telling him his plans to take care of him. Caleb kept staring at Eric, in the mirror when Eric was out of his eye line, with a dazed but peaceful look on his face.  When Eric helped him up, Caleb did his best to stand, but he was shaky and weak, and he didn’t hesitate to lean into Eric and wrap his arms around Eric’s waist.  It was a sign of how deep in subspace he was, that there was no hesitation at all to cling to the Dominant and tuck his face into Eric’s shoulder.  He nodded again as the walked, but it was more of a nuzzle, given where his face was pressed into the crook of Eric’s neck.  “M’good,” he mumbled happily.  “Thank you, Master.”

He wanted to freeze at that. Master. He’d never asked for that. He hadn’t known just how much he wanted to hear it until Caleb actually said it. He didn’t react though. Not as excitedly as he wanted to. Caleb was blissfully floating and he didn’t want to risk pulling him out of that. Didn’t want to risk jarring him and making him believe he’d done something wrong. ‘You’re welcome beautiful. Thank you.’ He echoed. ‘That was quite a spectacular gift.’ He saw their submission as a gift: Caleb’s and Maverick’s and it was a gift he intended to earn every time. ‘You can lean back against the counter.’ He smiled. ‘I’m just gonna clean you off and then I want your mouth around my cock. You make a perfect cocksleeve.’ He teased playfully. ‘We’ll have a bath together later; properly rinse off the day.’ He explained, as he soaked a washcloth with warm water and gently set about cleaning the Switch up.

Caleb sighed happily against Eric’s shoulder.  When Eric moved him to lean against the counter, Caleb made a soft noise of protest, not wanting to let go of Eric, and then hissed when his ass touched the edge of the counter.  But Eric was still touching him and talking to him, and it was easy to lean into the pain and let it become a warm glow, coloring his subspace instead of pulling him out of it.  He smiled at the praise, looking up at his wonderful Master, who was taking such good care of him, and who was going to let Caleb serve him.  Caleb couldn’t ask for more.  “I love your cock,” he mused, his smile dopey and adoring.  “I wanna be good, and serve you, Master.”  He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and they reached out to rest on Eric’s hips, another thing he’d never normally do without asking.  But the fear that always held him back just wasn’t there, this deep in subspace.  

‘You’re always good for me beautiful.’ He replied easily, as he tossed the cloth in the sink. There would be time for cleaning everything up properly later; he didn’t want to waste a second of this space Caleb was enjoying. He loved seeing him with his guard down. He loved how freely he was touching him. ‘You remember the rules don’t you? Hands and knees unless you’re still feeling unsteady and need to lean on me.’ He reminded him gently. He led him through to the living room, walking slower now so as not to push him for too much. He took a seat and let his legs fall apart, creating a space for Caleb to kneel. Honestly, he could think of few things he enjoyed as much as he enjoyed Caleb nuzzling and pressing into his crotch. It was so incredibly intimate and he loved seeing that submission. ‘I’m this turned on because of you.’ He informed him, sliding his hand into his hair and drawing him forward. His erection was obvious beneath his pants and he guided Caleb’s mouth towards it. ‘You do this to me.’

Caleb positively beamed when Eric praised him.  He never felt so good, in such a pure and uncomplicated way, as he did right now.  At the reminder of the rules of the scene, Caleb dropped to the floor so fast his knees thudded, but he didn’t care.  He just looked back up at Eric, still smiling, utterly delighted to be at his master’s feet, where he belonged.  He followed Eric out to the living room, and the movement made his ass ache even worse, but the dull throb just fueled his subspace more.  He crawled in between Eric’s feet and sat up, getting comfortable on his knees and sitting back on his heels, which pressed against his sensitive ass perfectly.  His eyes locked onto the bulge in Eric’s pants as soon as he spoke, and it barely took any encouragement to make Caleb lean in and start kissing and mouthing at it through the fabric.  He moaned softly, reveling in the closeness, the feeling that he was being used like a good sub, that he was pleasing his master.

He groaned freely, keeping his hand in Caleb’s hair. ‘Such a beautiful, eager boy.’ He encouraged, rolling his hips up to meet the flurry of kisses. ‘Take my cock out now submissive. I want to see your lips stretched around me.’ He instructed firmly. If he could, he’d have lived in this moment forever. The only thing that could have made it better was if Maverick were kneeling next to Caleb. His boys were the perfect pair. ‘You’re not sucking. Yet. You just have to hold my cock in your mouth, and let yourself relax. That’s all I need from my good boy.’ He explained, fingers undoing the zipper in his jeans and lifting his hips so he could pull them down.

Caleb started trying to suck through the fabric, that’s how desperate he was for his master’s cock, but thankfully he was given permission to actually taste it a moment later. He wasted no time undoing Eric’s fly and pulling his underwear down to free his hard cock.  He didn’t even wait to look at it for a second, just wrapped his lips around the head the instant it was out and started sucking happily.  Only to realize he had just been told not to suck, and hadn’t been fully listening, in his haste to get master’s cock out.  He whined in the back of his throat, but stopped sucking, and instead slid down Eric’s cock to take more of it into his mouth.  He looked up at Eric with wide eyes, hoping he was doing well.

‘That’s better. That’s my good boy.’ He encouraged. His fingers remained threaded in his hair and just rested there. It was quite relaxing actually, and he opted to turn the TV on. Whatever he was watching was mindless, and he didn’t pay too much attention; it was just something to measure time. He kept glancing towards Caleb, smiling and murmuring praise; just enough to keep him conscious of the fact he knew he was there and he wasn’t being ignored. When the second episode of the sitcom ended, he turned the TV off and gave a firm tug of his hair. ‘Suck now submissive. I want to cum down your throat.’

That praise was all Caleb wanted.  He was so happy he could cry. He stared up at his master adoringly, and moved his tongue under Eric's cock just a little with a happy him.  He registered the sound of the TV turning on, but was too deep in subspace to really even notice it consciously. After a minute, Caleb closed his eyes and let himself just relax. His world narrowed down to a small set of sensations, just the weight of Eric's cock in his mouth, the comfort of his hand in Caleb's hair, the pleasant fullness of the plug in his hole and the throb of his ass, all things that made Caleb feel like a good and valuable submissive who was being properly used by his master.  He lost all track of time, just floating through subspace, kept safe by Eric's presence, until the tug on his hair brought him back to the moment. He looked up at Eric again, and would have grinned had his lips not been occupied. He didn't need to be told twice.  He started to suck, hard, and bobbed his head up and down, taking in more of Eric's cock. He couldn't keep the whole thing in his mouth when he was just warming it, because he could only deep throat for maybe five or ten seconds before pulling back to breathe and then going again, but now that he had permission to move, Caleb sucked it all in and pressed his nose into Eric's pubic hair. He was enthusiastic, even joyful about it as he moved up and down Eric's cock. He wanted so badly to make Eric come and make him happy.

He was so content to be lazy with this. To just recline back against the couch and let his boy service him. It was strange; to feel that comfortable with another person. A guttural groan left his lips and he arched his back; satisfaction written across his face. He loved the response he received from Caleb. The Switch was so beautifully eager for him and he allowed his eyes to fall closed as he just enjoyed the pure bliss that washed over him. He lost track of how long Caleb sucked and teased; he didn’t open his eyes again until he could feel the pit of his stomach twist and tighten. ‘Fuck —huhhh. Caleb. Take it all. M’so close.’ He groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips forward into the welcome wet heat of his boy’s mouth.

Caleb moaned eagerly around Eric’s cock.  He wanted his cum so bad.  He wanted it in his mouth, so he could taste it and swallow it, but he wanted it on his face, too, so it could mark him as Eric’s plaything.  Regardless, he just kept sucking, and pushed himself to deepthroat for longer and longer periods of time.  Each time he only pulled back when Eric’s cock was choking him so badly he couldn’t take it, and he pulled back to gasp a breath, and then kept right on sucking.  He groaned, looking up at Eric with wide, hopeful eyes, trying to drive him over the edge.

It was the look that drove him completely over the edge. Caleb’s wide, open expression had him shooting his load down his throat, and moaning his name as he did so. He used the hand in his hair to push him back slightly and closed his other hand around the base of his length; painting Caleb’s lips, cheeks, chin with ropes of white. He collapsed back against the couch and breathed an exhausted and content sigh. ‘Fucking hell.’ He breathed. ‘Such a fucking perfect boy submissive.’ He praised. ‘Fuck, stay like that. Right there. I need to —‘ he stretched across to grab his Polaroid camera, on the side table. ‘I need to take your picture. Just for us Caleb. I need to be able to look back on this.’

Caleb started to swallow eagerly as he felt Eric spill in his mouth, but then Eric gripped him by the hair and tugged him back, and Caleb moaned at the loss of his master’s wonderful cock in his mouth, but he welcomed the feeling of cum striping his cheeks, hot and sticky.  He opened his mouth, trying to catch what he could on his tongue, but held completely still so that Eric could decorate him as he chose.  When he was done, Caleb just sat back on his heels and beamed up at his master.  He felt perfect right now.  Beyond perfect.  He knew he was a good boy, in a way he never really believed it outside of this deep subspace.  He knew he had pleased Eric, that he’d been so good, and he was going to get to stay right here where he belonged, at Eric’s feet, completely controlled by Eric’s will.  “Thank you, Master,” he murmured happily.

He snapped several pictures; in genuine awe of how incredible and blissful Caleb looked. It was a look he knew he’d never tire of seeing. The camera printed the pictures immediately and he set them aside to let them develop. He’d look at them later, and probably share them with Caleb. ‘Tell me you’re mine submissive. I want to hear you tell me you’re my boy.’ He requested. He leaned forward and cupped his face with both hands. He kissed him soundly, not caring that he was probably making something of a mess of his own face. He needed to kiss him because he couldn’t convey the right level of affection and adoration with just his words.

“I’m yours, Master,” Caleb answered with an easy confidence he would never have been able to even fake, let alone feel outside of this headspace.  He was so far down in subspace that he wasn’t even capable of questioning things.  He belonged to Eric, it was clear as day.  “I’m your boy.  I’m your good boy.”  He nearly giggled when he called himself a good boy, because it felt amazing to say it.  He leaned up so he could kiss Eric back, unconcerned by the cum on his face that was being smeared around.

‘Again.’ He instructed against his lips. It was the good boy part he wanted him to repeat. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Caleb make such a powerful declaration so freely. He pulled back just enough so he could watch him; his hands still lightly holding his face. The words soothed worries he’d not fully recognised yet. They relaxed him, comforted him and reassured him that by getting Caleb to this place, he was doing something very right.  

Caleb didn't really understand why Eric was looking at him like that, like something important had happened, or maybe that he was something important. It didn't matter much though, not this deep in subspace. All he cared was that Eric was looking at him and that he seemed to still be pleased. "I'm your boy, Master," he repeated, smiling. "I'm yours. I know I'm yours and you'll take care of me."

‘You’re my good boy.’ He wanted to watch as the praise reached his ears and sunk in. He swore he could see the words wash over him and bring about a physical response. He felt an intense need to be close to his submissive. It wasn’t enough to just sit here with him; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do anything to feel close enough. ‘Come have a shower with me.’ There would be an entire evening of Caleb serving him ahead; of preparing dinner, turning down the bed, kneeling, cleaning up the playroom and that could all come later. What he needed now was to address his own needs; Caleb was floating pleasantly in the most submissive headspace he’d seen him in and he needed to take care of himself. ‘I wanna get us both cleaned up and just feel you wrapped around me for a while sweet boy.’ He explained. ‘And then you can prepare dinner.’

Caleb beamed at Eric, entirely unconcerned about the cum cooling on his face. He could see a bit on Eric's cheek from when they had kissed, and it seemed wrong to let Eric be dirty, so he reached up and reverently brushed it off with his finger tips, then brought them to his mouth to lick it off. It was a gesture that would normally be unthinkably bold for a boy who never so much as touched Eric's knee or hand without permission, but right now Caleb was Eric's good boy. He had no fear of being unwanted. "Yes, Sir," he agreed, wondering if he'd be allowed to kiss Eric again when they showered. He was delighted that he would at least be allowed to wash him, since surely that was why Eric wanted him in the shower with him, and that he wouldn't have to be parted from him.   

He walked slowly, ensuring Caleb could crawl along next to him easily. When they reached the bathroom, he stripped out of his clothes and reached into the shower to turn it on. ‘Let’s let the water heat up yeah?’ He smiled. ‘And let’s take that plug out. Stand up and bend over the counter sweet boy. I want you to watch your face again.’ He winked. He offered Caleb a hand, and guided him into the position he wanted. He eased the toy out gently; his submissive had been wearing it for a long time and he knew the sudden empty feeling might hit him hard. ‘This one isn’t waterproof.’ He explained, as he brushed his fingers over his stretched hole. ‘Would you like one that is to replace it?’ He prompted.

Caleb was tempted to try to nuzzle Eric’s leg as he crawled after him, but decided he should focus on crawling and not being greedy for attention.  His master was giving him so much attention already.  And of course it was only a minute until they were in the bathroom, and Caleb stood up and bent over the counter, pushing his ass out nicely for Eric.  He watched himself, as instructed, even though he’d much rather be watching Eric in the mirror.  He didn’t even think about being empty after the plug was out, because he was just floating along, doing as he was told.  And then the plug was out, and his ass tried to clench down and there was nothing there and he felt awful, it was wrong, he was supposed to be a good sub, and good subs were used, they were filled, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes, and he didn’t have enough of his faculties articulate why.  His eyes locked onto Eric’s in the mirror.  “Please,” he whined pitifully.  “Please, please- can’t- Master-”  He was starting to get upset and didn’t know how to stop himself from feeling it.

‘Shh submissive. It’s okay. Look at me.’ He soothed. He wanted him to try to verbalise his needs, his desires; he wasn’t sure if this was the right headspace to try it but he had to follow through now with what he’d started. He pulled him up into an upright position, and drew him back against his chest. ‘I’ve got you, my sweet, good boy. What’s getting you upset?’ He nuzzled his beard against his boy’s shoulder, all too aware of how much enjoyment he took out of it. ‘You’re allowed to ask me for what you need submissive. If you tell me, I’ll decide if you can have it.’ He emphasised that he would be the one ultimately deciding; that only Caleb could do was ask and he hoped that would get through to him before his upset brought him out of his blissful haze.

Between Eric’s gentle voice and his strong, firm grip that pulled Caleb back against his chest, Caleb started to calm.  Master still had him.  He was pressed firmly against Eric’s body, which meant that Eric was still in control, and Caleb didn’t need to be afraid.  He still felt awfully, horribly empty, but he wasn’t panicking because of it.  He grimaced, looking at Eric in the mirror.  “My- my hole,” he tried to explain, still sounding distraught.  “Please, Master, I don’t wanna be empty, please, good sluts are used!  Good sluts aren’t empty.  Please, please…”  He stared at Eric desperately, hoping he’d decide to let Caleb have his plug back.  Why had he taken it out?  Something about water… oh, the shower, right.  Caleb didn’t want to shower anymore, if it meant not having his plug.  He didn’t need to shower anyway, he was a good boy, he was proud of the cum on his face because it was a gift from his Dominant.

He turned him in his arms and pressed him back against the counter. ‘Keep your eyes on me.’ He said firmly. There was no room for arguing with his tone. He wanted Caleb to have to focus on him, rather than his reflection. He’d had no intention of leaving him empty but he also wasn’t about to plug him just to stop this. They needed to be able to work through this upset. He wanted to see if he was actually capable of calming him down. ‘I am your Master submissive. I took your plug out because I want you in the shower with me. You didn’t lose it for any other reason than safety. It would be a shame if the plug was damaged by the water and we couldn’t use it again right?’ He explained, using what he in his own head called his ‘Dom voice’. ‘You can have a plug for the shower but only if you keep looking at me and taking deep breaths. There’s no need to worry or panic. All that matters is me and what I decide for you.’

Caleb was suddenly facing Eric, and he hissed when his sore bottom hit the counter, but he kept his wide eyes fixed on Eric’s face.  He nodded when Eric spoke.  He was Caleb’s master.  Caleb knew that.  And as Eric continued, Caleb realized he’d been thinking wrong.  It wasn’t surprising, he was so often wrong, and he was scared Eric might want to punish him for being wrong, but even that fear was pushed into the background by Eric’s strong, commanding voice.  It demanded Caleb’s focus.  Caleb nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on Eric’s.  “Yes, Master,” he whispered.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.”  Caleb had gotten caught up in wanting to be good and forgotten to be obedient, but Master had corrected him.  Master always took care of him, even when he was stupid and disobedient.  It was okay.  Caleb was able to take deep breaths, like Eric had said, and kept his eyes on him, slowly calming down.  

‘I know your head is swirling right now; I know things might feel a little hazy. When it feels like it’s too much, bring your focus back to me. I am your Master and you are my very, very good boy.’ He reiterated, pressing him a little more firmly against the counter, knowing it would spark a flare of pain. ‘This is an important lesson submissive. When a good submissive needs something, they tell their Dominant. You tell me, and you put the decision as to whether you get it or not in my hands. I decide if it’s a want or a need.’ He explained. He pulled him forward enough to allow his hand to slide round and rear against his ass. ‘Now, if you need something sweet boy, tell me. Calmly. Clearly. Politely. Show me you’re my good boy.’

It amazed him how well Eric knew him, right now.  He felt exactly like that, like his head was swirling and it was hard to focus and everything just felt like too much, and like he was too little and not strong enough.  But he could do that, he could keep trying to bring his attention back to Eric.  All he had to do was trust him, right?  All he had to do was say how he felt and his master would take care of everything.  Caleb nodded, and when he was pulled forward, he wrapped his arms tightly around Eric’s waist and pressed his face down into Eric’s shoulder.  “P-please,” he stammered.  Why was this so difficult?  It shouldn’t be so hard, he knew his master would take care of him.  And he wanted so badly to be good.  He wanted to be Eric’s good boy.   “Please, I- I need something.  In my hole.  Please, Master. I don’t like being empty because-” His breath hitched, but he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Eric’s body against his.  “Because you- you gave it to me ‘cause I needed to be full, because good sluts are supposed to be used.  I don’t- I don’t want to be useless.  Please.”

‘Good boy.’ He didn’t necessarily like what Caleb was saying, the implication that he was useless unless he was being used was upsetting but he’d given him what he wanted. He’d talked about what he needed, he’d spoke about how he was feeling and that was a huge step in the right direction. ‘Let me be very clear, you are never useless.’ He whispered, against his hair. He kissed his head and pulled him impossibly closer. ‘Your Master will never, ever say that. Think that. Believe that. You’re sweet and strong and mine. Never useless. What you just did? That shows me your submission more than any plug possibly could.’ He breathed out a content sigh. This felt like a win. ‘I have a plug for you, and you’re getting it because you did exactly what I said, because you trusted me submissive. Whenever you’re ready, turn around again and let me see that perfect ass of yours.’

Caleb sagged against him when Eric praised him.  He nodded against Eric’s shoulder, relieved.  “Thank you, Master,” he mumbled into his skin.  “Thank you.”  He nuzzled into Eric’s neck for a long moment.  He needed the closeness with his Dominant right now.  “I trust you.  You take care of me.”  After another moment, he pulled back and turned around, leaning over to show Eric his ass.  “Please fix it, Master?”

Plugs were a commonly used toy, and he kept them in various locations through his suite. One of those locations was the bathroom; on the shelf above his toothbrush, and electric shaver, was a small range of plugs. They were all waterproof and kept in here for moments exactly like this. He selected one that was slightly bigger than the last, and held it to Caleb’s lips; instructing him to suck for a few moments. He was already well-stretched, so he didn’t stretch him any further before he pulled the plug from his lips with a wet pop, and eased it inside him carefully. ‘There sweet boy.’ He hummed, resting his hands lightly on the curve of his ass. ‘Does that feel better?’

Caleb did his best to suck on the plug like a good boy and get it as wet as he could. He already felt better, even without anything in his ass, just because Eric had taken control and reminded him who was in charge. When Eric took the plug out of his mouth and pushed it into his ass though, Caleb let out a breath and relaxed. He clenched around it, finally full again, and looked up at Eric in the mirror with a smile. "Yes, master. Much better. Thank you for taking care of your boy."

He leaned over him, and kissed his shoulder. Then he slowly kissed and mouthed his way down his back. He allowed his beard to drag against the unmarked skin, and he kept moving lower until he reached his ass. He kissed there tenderly, paying attention to each bruise as individually as he could. ‘Thank you for being my good boy.’ He replied, recognising the gift of Caleb’s submission. ‘I l— think we ought to get into the shower now. I want nothing more than to feel my boy pressed up close. Want you wrapped around me.’ He confessed. He took his head and led his boy through until they were standing under the heavy stream of hot water. ‘You make me so proud sweet boy.’ He hummed, allowing himself to relax and recognise a job well done. ‘Always So proud of you.’

Caleb sighed softly when his master kissed him, and he felt his muscles progressively relax as Eric's lips moved down his body. He was still deep, deep in subspace, so deep that his worries and insecurities didn't stick around after Eric comforted him, the way they normally would. It was easy to slip back into a headspace where he knew that he was Eric's good boy and he was so confident in that knowledge that there was no residual fear or worry. He smiled and nodded when Eric took his hand. "Yes, Sir." He let himself be pulled into the shower and sighed again at the blissful warmth. He looked back at Eric again and beamed. "I was good?" He leaned into Eric, relaxing against him in a way that was not very conducive for washing but very good for snuggling under the lovely hot water. "You're such a good master. Take such good care of me. Wanna stay here forever. Please? I don't want to come back up and be me again."

‘So good for me. You make me so proud.’ He echoed. He loved the look that formed on Caleb’s face when he praised him. It was bright and blissful. ‘Shh, don’t worry about coming up just yet. We have so much more time before we have to even think about that.’ He promised, soothing him with a kiss. He knew he’d have to be careful with that; that he guided him out of this space slowly so as not to upset him or cause him to drop. He wanted this to seem as effortless as possible. He slid his hand up over his chest and teased a nipple, circling his finger round and over it. ‘I can’t stop touching you.’ He grinned. ‘You’re just so perfect.’ His own head felt just a little floaty; he’d only felt like that once before and it had been during his scene with Mav for scene week. He’d never felt so completely in control. It was an intoxicating feeling.

Caleb nodded and laid his head down on Eric's shoulder. If Eric said he didn't need to think about anything yet, then that must be right. He didn’t actually want to think about anything, because somewhere in the back of his head he knew that thinking would mean going back to a place where things weren’t so simple and perfect and peaceful.  He smiled at the way Eric was touching him, and lifted his head to kiss Eric’s cheek, right above the edge of his beard.  “Master,” he murmured, like it was a prayer, a declaration of affection all on its own.  He was content to just stay there, in the warm water, with his arms around Eric’s waist, until his master decided otherwise.