#ariana grande thigh gap

[alinathinkstoomuch]

Heels of Dreams

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife!reader summary: you wear heels for a fancy dinner, but in the end, it’s not your shoes that carry you home. warnings: suggestive, fluff, hotch being the perfect man once again by carrying reader home and taking off her heels, age gap implied, reader giving hotch a hard time about being old. (all i hear is hotch is a boobs man, hotch is an ass man no! hotch is a legs man! he told me himself!) word count: 2k ✧ masterlist

Your feet ached – so much so that you weren’t even surprised when Reid, probably fed up with your quiet whining, casually mentioned over dinner that high heels were originally invented for men. And honestly? That made perfect sense. Only creatures that ridiculous would willingly subject themselves to this kind of torture.

He had then launched into an explanation about how, somewhere in the eighteenth century, heels became associated with women’s fashion, but by that point, you were far too focused on two things to pay attention: the persistent throb in your feet and the slow, deliberate movement of Aaron’s hand as it slid over to rest on your thigh.

That had effectively wiped out any interest in Reid’s history lesson.

It had been a small dinner, one of those rare nights where the girls – Penelope, really –  insisted on dressing up. She had made a reservation somewhere far fancier (and significantly less sticky) than your usual bar, declaring it a much-needed change of scenery.

So, you had picked out the prettiest pair of shoes you owned – the ones you knew Aaron liked because he had insisted on buying them for you. He hadn’t even flinched when the price climbed high enough to require a comma, just given you that quiet, unwavering look that made it clear he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

And now, after hours of balancing on them, you were really hoping that look extended to carrying you to the couch.

“Regretting your choice of footwear?”

You huffed, dramatically shifting your weight onto one leg. “I regret your choice of footwear.”

His brow lifted. “Mine?”

“You picked these out, remember?” You gestured toward your aching feet, the expensive, unreasonably gorgeous shoes peeking out from beneath the hem of your dress. “You practically demanded I get them.”

Aaron hummed, slowing his pace just enough to make you aware of how much effort you were putting into keeping up. The ass. “I don’t recall any demanding,” he said, tone far too innocent. “I seem to remember you trying them on and looking at me like you were hoping I’d tell you to buy them.”

You gasped, stopping in your tracks. “That is not what happened.”

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable – except for the glint in his eyes, the one that only appeared when he was in the mood to toy with you. “No?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Which one is it going to be?”

“Huh?

“Do you want to walk home in my shoes,” he clarified, like he was offering you something as normal as his jacket, “or am I carrying you?”

You stared at him, trying to gauge whether he was actually serious. “You can’t just carry me,” you argued, crossing your arms.

Aaron arched a brow and before you could react, he took a deliberate step forward, closing the space between you. “You underestimate me,” he said and suddenly, you were very aware of how close he was.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you can – I just don’t think you should.”

His lips twitched, like he was holding back a smile. “Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“You’re limping,” he pointed out, not unkindly. “And you’re already dramatic when you’re comfortable, I can’t imagine how much I’ll have to hear about this tomorrow if I don’t carry you.”

“Jeez, you’re making me sound like a real catch.”

His smirk deepened just enough to make your breath hitch. “You are,” he said simply, like it was the easiest truth in the world. “That’s why I’m carrying you.”

And before you could even form a protest, his arms were around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

A surprised yelp escaped your lips as he adjusted his hold, settling you securely in his arms, carrying you like you were weightless. The absurdity of it all – his confidence, the way he did it without hesitation, the sheer ridiculousness of being carried down the street like some sort of Disney princess – sent you into a fit of laughter.

“This is silly,” you managed between giggles, clinging to his shoulders. “Baby, put me down, I’ll walk barefoot.”

“Not happening.” His grip on you tightened, as if the very thought of letting you go was out of the question.

You let out another giggle, looping your arms around his neck for balance – not that you needed to, because Aaron held you like you were made for this, like carrying you home was just another part of his routine. Like it didn’t even require effort.

“Well, at least it’s not too far,” you mused, mid-yawn. “Wouldn’t want you throwing your back out.”

Aaron huffed out a laugh, the warmth of it brushing against your temple. “My back is fine. I think I can manage a few blocks.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, a teasing smile curling at your lips. “You think you can manage? Should I be concerned?”

“I should drop you just for that.”

Your eyes widened in mock horror, gripping his shoulders a little tighter. “You wouldn’t.”

Aaron’s lips curved into a smile “Wouldn’t I?”

Still, you gasped dramatically, clutching him even tighter. “Wow. Threatening to drop your much younger wife? That’s low.”

He sighed, the kind of long-suffering exhale that only came from years of dealing with you. “Here we go.”

You bit back a grin, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I mean, I get it – you’re not as young as you used to be. It must be exhausting carrying someone so full of youthful energy.”

“You do realize I’ve tackled suspects more than twice your size, right?”

“Yes, yes, very impressive,” you conceded with a wave of your hand. “But, you know, they don’t cling to you and distract you with conversation while you’re carrying them.”

“No, usually they’re either trying to stab or shoot me.”

You blinked, considering that. “And I’m the difficult one?”

Aaron didn’t bother dignifying your last remark with a response, he just shook his head, adjusting his grip on you. The movement brought you even closer and you could feel his warmth bleeding into you. If you weren’t still revelling in the absolute delight of being carried, you might’ve admitted that this had been your plan all along.

Eventually, the familiar sight of your apartment building came into view, and you sighed dramatically. “Well, we made it. Against all odds. How’s your back? Need me to book you a chiropractor?”

“Maybe a divorce attorney,” he mumbled, earning a swat at his chest from your clutch.

“Excuse me?”

But before you could demand a proper retraction, he angled you slightly, adjusting his hold so effortlessly it was almost infuriating, and you barely had time to react before he nodded toward the door.

“Kick,” he instructed.

Rolling your eyes but obliging anyway, you lifted a foot and tapped the door open, muttering, “Chivalry is dead.”

“Chivalry is alive and well,” he corrected smoothly, stepping inside with you still securely in his arms. “It’s just carrying a very mouthy woman up the stairs.”

You gasped again, scandalized. “Wow. I think that definitely just earned you a night on the couch.”

“We both know you’d end up joining me anyway. In fact,” he mused, his voice dropping as he carried you up the stairs, “I recall you saying that the best sex we’ve ever had was on that couch.”

Your mouth snapped shut, heat rushing to your cheeks so fast it was disorienting.

“You cannot just say things like that,” you hissed, your head whipping toward the door opposite yours. “We have neighbours. You know Agatha is a night owl.”

Aaron exhaled a quiet chuckle, completely unfazed. “Agatha’s hard of hearing.” He paused then added, “Keys, honey.”

With a dramatic sigh, you started digging through your clutch, fingers sifting through a graveyard of lip glosses and tiny perfume samples you had no intention of ever using but refused to throw away.

Aaron tilted his head, watching with mild amusement. “Need some help?”

“I’ve got it,” you muttered, ignoring his deeply unnecessary smirk as you fished out your keys. “Not all of us have the luxury of bottomless suit pockets.”

“That’s not what they’re called.”

“Whatever, Mary Poppins.”

He shook his head as he patiently waited for you to unlock the door – still very much carrying you.

Finally, your fingers closed around the keys, and with an exaggerated motion, you yanked them out. Aaron hummed, the sound low and pleased, before lowering you just enough so you could reach the lock.

The door swung open and he carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him. He made his way over to the infamous couch. The moment he set you down, you let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, stretching out dramatically. “Ugh. My hero,” you drawled. “My feet may never recover, but at least I died beautifully.”

You watched as he crossed the room with that same grace, making his way back toward the door. He slid off his suit jacket, draping it neatly over the back of a chair before reaching for the lock.

He made his way back over to you without a word, nudging your legs apart just enough to settle between them, sinking onto his knees. His fingers went immediately to the delicate strap of your heels, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your skin as he worked.

“Wow. Didn’t even have to ask.”

Aaron barely glanced up, his focus on your ankle as he did his best to undo the tiny buckle – one-handed, no less, because his phone and wallet were still in his grip. “I take care of what’s mine.”

Your stomach did a little flip, but you refused to let him win just yet.

“Hold these.” He pressed his phone and wallet against your stomach, and you took them instinctively.

Your fingers brushed over the wallet – the one you had given him for his birthday last year, the worn leather soft and familiar against your palm. You turned it over in your hand, shaking your head. “Oof. Trusting me with your wallet? Big mistake, Hotchner.”

He slipped the first shoe off your foot. “Spend whatever you want,” he murmured, his fingers wrapping around your ankle, lifting it slightly. “Take whatever you want. Take everything.”

Before the words could even land, he dipped his head and pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your ankle. His lips continued to trail lower, placing another kiss just above the curve of your foot, then another, his movements achingly tender.

You exhaled a quiet, contented moan, your body melting into the cushions as his touch worked its magic. It was like he knew – of course he knew – the exact places that hurt, the spots that had been aching for hours, and now, with nothing more than his lips, his touch, his presence, he was undoing all of it.

Like he needed to make it better.

Like he wanted to erase every trace of discomfort you’d felt all night.

His hands skimmed up your calves, pushing your dress up, fingertips pressing gently into the sore muscles before his thumbs followed, kneading warmth back into you.

Then, with that same patient care, he reached for your other foot, undoing the second buckle. The strap slipped free and he set the shoe aside before his hands returned to you, skimming up the length of your legs.

And then his mouth followed. Kissing. Worshipping.

His lips trailed over your shin, each kiss pressing something deeper into you – something that made your chest feel full.

His breath was warm against your thigh when he mumbled, “Marry me, baby.”

You blinked down at him, another giggle slipping from your lips, light and breathless. “Aaron, we’re already married.”

You felt him smile against your skin.

“Marry me again.”

Another kiss.

“And again.”

Another.

“And again.”

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tugging it slightly, your heart stuttering as warmth curled deep in your stomach.

He looked up then, eyes full of love, lips hovering just above your skin.

“As many times as you’ll have me.”

And just like that, you knew – you’d say yes to him a thousand times over.

dividers by cafekitsune

[thinkinonsense]

FANTASIZE❦

old!logan howlett x fem!reader

*mdni

cw: cursing, nsfw, age gap (reader is twenty-five)

wc: 1k+

a/n: i have no idea where this came from. i was supposed to be working on something completely different but apparently, this needed to be written first instead. yes it is inspired by the unreleased ariana grande song.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Logan couldn't read minds. He never longed for the ability or power; he was better off not knowing what others had going on in their heads. He only wanted to peek into someone's mind when he caught your twinkling eyes lingering in his direction. Luckily, he could still read your mind even without the mutation because your fantasies were written all over your face.

It was obvious to anyone caught in the same room as you and Logan, that there was tension. You burned holes all over his body with your intense gaze. If Logan was in the mood to entertain your little crush, he could compliment you in a way that was sure to make you blush.

"Good form today, kid."

"Lookin' pretty today, sweetheart."

"Lemme fix that lipstick, dollface." That one left you with an ache in between your thighs as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Can't have you walkin' around here a mess, now can we?"

Logan wasn't sure if he would ever make it to heaven but seeing your lip tremble with need was close enough for him.

If he saw you in a dress with a pair of mary-jane's, he would try to catch a glimpse of your underwear in the reflection of your shoes. It didn't always work but it made him feel young again.

No one was brave enough to address it due to him being twice your age. Despite being twenty-five years old and already having graduated from the school, it was still considered taboo to some. If anyone asked Logan about it, he would brush it off as a schoolgirl crush that you would eventually grow out of.

It was truly harmless he thought. You got the attention you craved and Logan got to see a pretty young woman squirm in her seat because of him. It never went further than flirtatious comments and lingering stares.

❦

Today might be the worst day of your life. You and Logan were being sent out together on a mission to find a mutant that lived two hours away. It wasn't the mission that worried you; it was being stuck in a tiny car with only Logan for one hundred and twenty minutes.

"Why aren't 'cha talkin', dollface?" Logan asked, almost teasingly.

For almost twenty minutes, he was aware of your eyes watching his hand hold the wheel. Logan was also incredibly aware of the effect it had on you. A little broken sigh escapes you when his hand clenches tighter around the leather, making his veins pop even more.

"Too busy fantasizing 'bout me?"

No matter how much you tried to find someone your age to be with, your heart always went back to Logan. He treated you differently than anyone you've ever met. Sure, sometimes he made you feel like a kid but he also knew you could handle your own. Logan wouldn't let anyone underestimate you; that kept you crawling back to him.

"Maybe I am." You shrug, fed up with his games.

"Oh, yeah?" He says, taking a deep inhale of your sent. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, hm?"

You were used to Logan's overly confident personality that he tried to use to intimidate you; and make you stumble over your words. It wasn't gonna work this time. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him, but you needed him to admit it first.

"Us in the backseat of the car." You admit, biting the inside of your cheek nervous for his response.

"Really? And what are we doing back there?" He asked, cocking his head curiously as his eyes remained glued to the road.

"You're on top of me, makin' me feel good." Your words were coy but that was the point. Logan liked being the tease; having all the power.

"Keep talkin', dollface."

There it was. You had him right where you wanted him.

You pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking your head and telling him, "No, I shouldn't"

"Why not?"

"Because an old man like yourself can't keep up with me, right? At least that's what I heard you tell the Professor."

Logan couldn't believe you had heard their conversation earlier this week. The Professor was the only person who knew the truth of how Logan felt towards you. When Charles asked him what was stopping him from pursuing you, all Logan had to say was, "I'm too old for her; can't keep up with such a young thing like her".

Which was far from the truth.

"So obsessed with me that you're listenin' to my conversations now?" He growled, pulling the car over.

"Stop acting like you aren't obsessed with me too." You smile at him. "I know a few pairs of my underwear 'mysteriously' disappear from my hamper. I know that you can hear me through the walls late at night, panting your name."

With each sentence, you inch closer to him. Logan could only compare you to the snake in Eve's garden; encouraging him to give into his temptations.

"I also know that you want me." Your eyes were dark with desire, making his pants tighter. "So, if you can't get it up or claim that you don't want me then that's fine with-"

Logan fumed with irritation and lust. Not thinking twice before slamming your lips into yours. He tasted exactly like you imagine; tobacco and mint. You were addicted; no one could ever compare to him.

In a rush, his rough hands pulled you into his inviting lap before one cupped your jaw and his other made its way up your skirt, toying with your lacy underwear. He wasn't going to give it to you that easily.

"L-Logan, please," You moan against his mouth, trying to create some friction on his lap. "Need it."

God, he's waited a long time to hear that; to see you so desperate in his arms. When he pulled back to look at you, Logan couldn't be more pleased with the image in front of him. Your eyes shut tightly, face scrunched, trying to concentrate, and lips pouty with annoyance. Logan removes his hand under your skirt; causing the prettiest whine to escape you. He thought you might be what finally kills him.

"We aren't done, sweetheart." He groaned in your ear. "Get in the backseat because you are gonna tell me every single one of your fuckin' fantasies."

[borderlineex]

₊˚⊹౨ west side ৎ₊˚⊹

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ soldier boy x fem!reader

⤷ 𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽… soldier boy fucks you while telling you how much he wants to wife you up

⤷ 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈/𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓈... strong language, porn with no plot, p in v, oral(fem receiving), mentions of marriage, age gap (ben is in his 40s), perv!ben, 18+ content

⤷ 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉... 967

a/n: for 250 followers i’ll be making a series of smut fanfics based off the ariana grande album positions (i love it sm its overhated) i’m trying to get my fics to be longer so i hppe you guys like reading themm ! <33

shut up, 34+35, motive, just like magic, off the table, six thirty, safety net, my hair, nasty, west side, love language, positions, obvious, pov

"you gonna sit there and pretend you don’t know what you do to me?" ben’s voice was rough, the kind of deep that vibrated through your ribs as he crowded you against the wall. his breath was hot on your throat, the scent of leather and gunmetal still clinging to him from training.

you swallowed, fingers twisting in his shirt. "i don’t—"

"bullshit." his hand slid up your thigh, grip possessive. "makin’ me lose my goddamn mind every time you bite your lip like that. like you ain’t tryin’ to wreck me." his other hand palmed your ass, pulling you flush against the hard line of his cock straining against his pants.

you whimpered, arching into him. "maybe i am."

he groaned, grinding against you. "fuck, baby. gonna make me put a ring on you before i even fuck you right. that what you want? me claimin’ you while i ruin you?" his teeth grazed your neck, stubble scraping your skin. "say it."

"yes," you gasped.

"good girl." his hand found your waistband. "now let’s see if you can take what’s yours."

"that’s it—spread for me," ben growled, yanking your pants down your hips, fingers already slipping beneath the damp fabric of your panties. his thumb pressed hard against your clit, making you jerk against his hand. "fuck, you’re already soaked. this what you been thinkin’ about while i was gone?"

you nodded, breath hitching as he hooked two fingers inside you, curling them just right. "ben—"

"nah, don’t hide it." he bit your earlobe, his other hand dragging your shirt up, calloused palm rough against your ribs. "let me hear how bad you want it." you moaned, loud and shameless, as his fingers fucked into you faster. his cock strained against his fly, the thick outline unmistakable.

"gonna make you scream my name," he promised, dragging his lips down your throat. "then i’m gonna bend you over and show you why you’re never gonna need anyone else." his breath was ragged against your skin. "gonna wife you so damn good you’ll forget your own name."

you clenched around his fingers, whining as he added a third. "please—" "beggin’ already?" he smirked, twisting his wrist. "good. means i’m doin’ my job right."

ben’s fingers dragged out of you, glistening, before he brought them to his mouth with a filthy smirk. “tastes like mine already.” he unbuckled his belt with one hand, the leather snapping free as he crowded you back against the wall. “but I’m gonna make damn sure.”

you gasped as ben shoved his cock against your bare cunt, the thick head smearing precum over your clit. "look at you," he snarled, gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, "drippin' for me like some fuckin' slut who don't know her own name." his tip caught your entrance, teasing. "you wanna be my good girl? take this cock like you mean it?"

you whimpered, grinding down, but he jerked you back. "nah—say it." his voice was rough, wrecked. "tell me who owns this pussy." "you," you choked out. "always you." "fuck yeah." he slammed inside with one brutal thrust, your back hitting the wall as he filled you to the hilt.

your scream tore through the room, his hand clamping over your mouth. "louder," he demanded, pounding into you, each snap of his hips hitting deeper. "let 'em all hear who you belong to."

your nails dug into his shoulders, his sweat-slick skin under your fingers as he fucked you raw. "gonna cum inside," he growled, mouth hot on your neck. "mark you up so good no one forgets." his thrusts turned erratic, his cock pulsing as he spilled deep, your own climax ripping through you as he murmured against your ear—"mine."

his grip tightened on your hips, keeping you pinned as his cock twitched inside you, still buried deep. "that's it, take it all," he groaned, grinding his hips to milk every last drop. "gonna fill you up like this every damn night when you're my wife—make sure you never forget who owns this sweet cunt."

his grip stayed tight on your hips as he shuddered, cock still buried deep inside you—pulsing, spilling, claiming. his blown-out pupils locked onto yours, all dark heat and something dangerously close to worship.

"fuck," he rasped, voice wrecked, grinding his hips to milk himself dry. "look at you. takin’ everything i give you like you were made for it."

a rough hand cradled your jaw, his thumb dragging over your bottom lip. "gonna marry you so damn hard," he muttered, dazed, lips brushing yours. "put a ring on you, yeah, but fuck—" his hips jerked, pushing his spend deeper. "this pussy’s my real wedding band. feel that? my cum sealing you up, makin’ sure every part of you knows who you belong to."

you whimpered, oversensitive, but he caught your wrist and pressed your palm flat over his pounding heart. "don’t pull away. wanna see it in your eyes when you come again." his fingers circled your clit, relentless.

"wanna watch my wife—fuck, my wife—shake apart on my fingers ‘fore i stuff her full of me all over again."

you arched, gasping as pleasure spiked, but he just looked at you—like he was memorizing the way you fell apart for him. "say it," he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "tell me you’re mine. not just tonight. always." "yours," you choked out, nails biting into his shoulders as another orgasm tore through you. "always—"

ben kissed you slow and deep, swallowing your moans, his cock already hardening against your thigh. "good girl," he breathed, forehead pressed to yours. "now let’s practice the wedding night ‘til you forget your own goddamn name." his laugh was low, rough with want.

"s’only right—gotta make sure my future wife can’t walk straight at the altar."

[jjkilll]

———— - - -✫ NASTY | JJK ✫- - - ————

— pairing |  idol bf jk x y/n

— summary | teasing your boyfriend at a dinner party in front of all his friends isn't the smartest of ideas, but it got you exactly what you wanted.

—  warning | smut like real filthy, dirty talk, rough sex, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (please fucking use a condom, i am no babysitter), choking, slapping, cum(?), verbal degradation, and spitting

— word count | 1.7K

— song | Nasty - Ariana Grande

You always loved sex with Jungkook, he was a pleaser and always made sure you came before he did. He was just... vanilla. He was always making love to you, which was great and you loved it, but sometimes you wish he'd fuck your brains out. The thought of him calling you a slut and fucking you until you couldn't walk for the next few days made you extremely horny.

You had talked to him about it before asking him to be a little rougher with you, but he never wants to hurt you or make you feel like he actually thinks horrible things about you. To him, you were the moon, sun, and the stars. So he choked you a little and smacked your ass every now and then but you wanted more. You also didn't want to push him to do things he wasn't comfortable doing, so you left it alone.

Jungkook finally comes back to Korea after shooting a music video in LA. He asks if you want to join him for Jimin's birthday dinner and you accept, you haven't been out with him in two whole weeks and you haven't touched him in three due to him being super busy a week before leaving so you needed him desperately to put it shortly.

You put on a short black Chanel dress and matching platform heels. "You look fucking amazing baby," Jungkook says coming up behind you in the mirror. He stands behind you watching you adjust your dress to your liking. You back up to him a little pressing your ass on his clothed manhood. He winced backing up a little, clearly trying to hold back. "Baby we're gonna be late if you keep trying this shit." He says lowly but seriously. You give him a cheeky smile. "I just missed you so much, Daddy." You turn to face him and fill the gap between you two. "I missed you more than you'll ever know baby, but we can't be late. Ill take care of you when we get back, I promise." He says pecking your lips softly.

You loved how warm he was, he smelled like heaven and it was truly getting harder to wait until you returned. You hummed. "Okay, let's go now." He chuckles at your newfound eagerness. He smiles as you take his hand dragging him to the foyer. You grab your coat, tossing it over your arm, Jungkook opens the door for you, and you smile at him. God, you love this man.

✫ -----------------------✫

Dinner was going well, Jungkook was telling the members about the shoot and how hot it was in LA. You watched him speak about work, he loved his job and you loved how passionate he was. He had been practicing so much before he left, you wouldn't wait to see how it turned out. Jimin was talking about the guitar lessons he was taking, and he listened nodding. Then a little cheeky thought popped into your head. You rub your hand up his thigh. He looks at you and smiles, rubbing your arm lovingly. He turned back to his friends invested in the ski trip story that Namjoon tells to everyone new he meets. You do it once more getting closer to his cock. He shoots you a look, and you smirk at him. He grabs your hand holding it in his. He leans over to you, "Watch it, baby." He kisses your cheek trying to play it off so none of his friends start to wonder. He just wasn't giving you the reaction you wanted. You needed to up the ante. Everyone was finishing up their food and talking and drinking. Jungkook was too caught up in conversation and a little bit tipsy, to realize your hand was back on his thigh. You inched closer and closer and stroke his clothed cock, causing him to choke on the beer he was drinking. Tables eyes dart to him asking him if he was okay. Jimin and Taehyung jokingly mention him having too much to drink. He looks at you pissed. He assured everyone he was okay and taking as his sign to go.

You both grab your coats, saying goodbye to everyone before Jungkook drags you out of the restaurant. "Really Y/n?" He says annoyed. "Fine, ill give you exactly what the fuck you want." He spoke his voice lower than usual. You were giddy, to say the least, quite pleased with your antics.

✫ -----------------------✫

You arrive home, the car ride is silent but quick and you can barely make it in the door before Jungkook grabs you kissing you. He backs you into the wall kissing your neck. He slips your dress up and his hand down your panties. "This is what you wanted huh? You want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? You couldn't even wait until we got home." He rubs circles against your clit and you already feel the knot in your stomach unravelling. "You embarrass me in front of my friends all because you want some dick? You want it so bad, don't you?" He kisses your lips stopping you from moaning loudly. He pulls his hand away and you groan at the loss of pleasure. "Open." He demands with his fingers at your lips. You obey sucking on his middle and ring fingers. "Look at you, licking yourself off my fingers. You"re so fucking nasty." He says watching you look up at him. "Fuck." He mutters under his breath. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He kisses you again tasting you on your tongue.

He sets you down gently never breaking the kiss. He was so obsessed with you and the whole stunt you pulled turned him on incredibly. "Do you even know how hard I was trying not to get a boner in the restaurant? I wanted to bend you over the table and fuck your right there." Jungkook wouldn't lie, he was sexually frustrated. You went from fucking every other day to not at all for three weeks. He could tear you apart, truly that is what you were hoping for.

"Fuck me please, Jungkook," You whined. Jungkook stood taking off his jeans and boxers letting his hard cock spring free. He strokes himself a few times before leaning back over you and kissing you again. He lifts your dress pulling it off and over your head. He unbuckles the buckle in the middle of your bra making your tits bounce at the release. You moan as he attaches his mouth to your nipple sucking it slowly, having his tongue dance around it.

"Shit, baby you're so fucking sexy." He kisses down your body stopping at the top of your panties. He yanks them down roughly and tosses them somewhere behind him. He uses one of his arms to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your face into the mattress, your ass up in the air. He rubs his cock along you pussy making you shutter. He pushes inside you slowly. You moan into the cover. He groans, bottoming out inside you. "This pussy was made for me." He says before backing out and thrusting into you slowly. His pace is steady. You stutter struggling to speak. He quickens his pace. "Take my cock baby, isn't this what you wanted?" He hums, expecting an answer from you. When you don't respond he smacks your ass harshly, "What? My cock turned you dumb? I asked you a fucking question."

You moaned, praying your neighbor wouldn't complain tomorrow. "Y-yes, fuck- oh my god, Jungkook, please! You're so fucking big!" He grinned, slowing his strokes so he can fuck you deeper. "You can take right baby?" He licks the tip of his finger and rubs your clit. The pleasure you feel is insane. You've always wanted him to fuck you like this. You were so turned on you could come any second. "Yes, Kook. I-I can take it. Fuck! G-give it to me!" Once again his pace quickens and your release is closer than ever. He grabs you by your neck your back closer to him. "Fuck baby this pussy is so fucking good," He wraps his hand around your throat, his other one still rubbing your clit.

"J-Jung- Please I'm going to c-come! J-just like that, holy shit! Fuck me." He groans fucking into you. He's just as close as you are. "Come with me, come on my cock. I'm gonna fill you up, baby." Your vision goes blurry as you come. Your mouth falls open, he continues fucking you through your orgasm. "Fuck Y/n. Take it, take all my come." He groans emptying his hot load inside of you. He lets go of your neck and you fall back onto the bed. He slowly pulls out of you, watching his mess drip out of you. He slaps your ass once more before flopping beside you.

You lay flat turning your head toward him. He looks at your fucked out state before chuckling. You join him, still a little breathless. "You're so cute." He says. He pulls you on top of him your legs on the side of his waist as you lay your head on his chest. "I wasn't too rough was I?" He asks tucking your stray hairs behind your ear. You shake your head. "If pissing you off is all I had to do for you to fuck me like that I would've done it ages ago." He chuckles. "I just was afraid of hurting you. You're just so delicate." He says sweetly. "Jungkook, I like the rough shit, when you talk like that to me it turns me on so much. I can take it, I promise. I'll tell you when it's too much." You look up at him. He hums. "Okay, does that mean you're ready for round 2?" He asks cheekily. You sit up straddling him. "In the wise words of Megan Thee Stallion, imma ride that dick like a stolen car," You say with a smirk. He grips your hips as you grind against him. "Fuck I'm already hard again." Your pussy leaking come. "This is so fucking hot." He watches you rub your pussy along his cock.

You stand kneeling in front of him. He sits up on his elbows watching as you stroke his cock. His breath hitches when you take all of him in your mouth. "I want you to come on my face."

"You are so fucking nasty girl." He responds as you lick his tip. You knew you were in for a longggggg night.

✫ -----------------------✫

a/n: Heard this last night and knew I had to add Ariana to the master list. More to come ;) Feedback and Requests are appreciated. Much love pookies. <3 I haven't re-read it so please ignore the mistakes. I'll fix it before I sleep :)

[thwrangis]

ariana grande brand shampoo and conditioner removed my capacity to acquire a thigh gap

[maxillness]

🇬🇧 || Dangerous Woman || C.H x Verstappen!Reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap, foot massage, handjob, degrading kink (briefly), oral (M receiving), sub!christian

Wordcount: 1.3k

She knew it was inappropriate to have these thoughts about him, not only because of their age gap, but also because he was like her brothers father

But god, there was something about him that made her feel like a dangerous woman

There’s something ‘bout him that makes her wanna do things she shouldn’t

Whenever she had the chance, she went with her brother to his Grand Prixs, but not because of him

She did it because of him

She did it because of Christian fucking Horner

She would never dare to admit to her brother about her thought towards his team principal, but she wouldn’t deny it if he asked about it

She didn’t know what about him that did it. Maybe it was the way his hair was greying, or the way his arms flexed under his shirt, or the way his thighs got thicker every time he sat down, or the way his hands looked

But something ‘bout him made her feel like a dangerous woman

The only reason she stood in the back of the garage to watch the Grand Prix, and not up front closer to the screen, was so she could look at Christian at the same time

It was the Dutch Grand Prix she attended today, so it would be special if Max won, even though we all know he was gonna win either way

He won, of course. She went over to her brother hugging him tightly congratulating him

She back up wanting to make space to the rest, but doing so, she accidentally bumped into Christian

“Oh, sorry, Christian” She said as he held her waist, supporting her so she wouldn’t fall

“It’s alright, love” He always called her love, but no matter how many time he did call her that, it always sent heat to her core, making a pool of wetness between her legs

She had suggested to throw the after party at her house since it wasn’t far, and really, she didn’t mind all the people in her house

Yes, it would be a mess to clean tomorrow, but he were gonna be there, so why shouldn’t she suggest it?

She sat on the couch talking with some of the engineers and mechanics with a drink in hand, but her eyes always found their way back to him, even if she tried hard to keep them away

She knew he looked at her too. Every time she would look over at him, his eyes would turn away and towards the person he was talking to

At some point during the night, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water instead of alcohol

As she turned back around she almost bumped into him for the second time that day

“This could turn into a habit, Christian” She chuckled

“Yeah, sorry, I just wanted to get something else than alcohol” He explained to her

“Great minds think alike. The glasses are in the left cupboard” She said sitting down in a chair at the dinning table. She groaned as she kicked off her heels

She put her foot in her lap as she started messaging the numb nerves. Christian was done with his water but didn’t leave the kitchen

“Let me help you” He said pushing off the counter. He walked over to her and knelt down into her height. He took her foot onto his knee and lightly message her. She watched at him in surprise

“You’re surprisingly good at this” She said looking down at his hands as they worked on her foot

“You’re forgetting I’ve been married, love” He chuckled

“Yeah, I do that quite a lot actually” She admitted

He switched foot to start on the other. His warm touch did nothing to prevent the witness that was starting to form in her panties

She took her foot away from him, quickly leaning down, grabbing his chin in her hand and roughly smashing their lips together

She started to pull away when he didn’t kiss her back, but he pulled her back into the kiss but the back of her neck as his other hand landed on her bare thigh

He stood up, pulling her with him. He tripped her body between his own and the kitchen counter

Both of their breaths were heavy when they pulled away from each other to catch their breath

His large hands were placed on her waist while her smaller ones were placed firmly on his biceps

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” He mumbled as he placed kisses on her neck and throat. He placed his knees between her legs, earning him a whine as he made contact with her clothed cunt

“Christian…” She tugged his hair, pulling him away from her skin. She kiss him again “Not here” She got out of his grip

She walked out of the kitchen, holding his hand, making sure he’d follow her. They managed to get to her bedroom without being seen by the people in the house

She pushed him up against the door as she locked it. The kiss was messy and needy. Her hands traveled to his chest. Her fingers found the buttons of his button-up

She did the first few buttons before he spoke between kisses “Love… We shouldn’t… This is wrong”

“And yet, you’re the one to call me love at every chance you get” She smirked against the skin on his chest as she continued on his shirt

She got the shirt off of him completely and threw it on the floor “Well, we can’t stop now” He said capturing her lips again

“Of course we can, we just don’t want to” He could feel her smirk into the kiss as her hands traveled down his chest and down to his abdomen

Her hand slid over his belt. She easily unbuckled it and zipped his jeans down. He groaned as she took his cock out of his boxers

She spit in her palm before starting to stroke him. She started sucking on his skin on his neck and throat. His breath shuttered as her thumb would brush over his tip

His heavy breath turned into moans as she sped up her movements. His hands went to her hips, grabbing her tightly

Dark circles were already forming on his skin as he started bucking his hips, fucking her hand

“Fuck, please, love, I want your mouth around me, please” His eyes were closed shut as his head leaned against the door

“You should be happy there’s loud music and talking in the house, ‘cause, god you’re loud” Her words made his breath shutter

She drew out a groan from him when she took her hand away. She pulled her hair into a ponytail before going to her knees

She circled her tongue around his tip before going all the way down on him. His hands came to be placed on the back of her head, but they were quickly pushed away and hardly pinned to the door

“Please, let me touch you” He begged looking down at her. He groaned when she didn’t let go of his wrist against the door, but she only went faster with her motions

“Fuck, please” He started fucking her mouth, not knowing what he was actually begging for

She felt him start to twitch in her mouth. She went fast, gagging every time he hit the back of her throat, which only added to his pleasure

“Fuck, I’m gonna-“ He couldn’t form any proper sentence from his pleasure and from how close he was to his orgasm

It didn’t take long for him to fall over the edge and came down her throat. She pulled off of him, swallowing his loath

She stood up, knees red from sitting on the floor. She kissed his lips, but this time it was soft

“You’re stronger than you look” He said which made her chuckle. She took his shirt from the floor to give him as he zipped his pants back up and buckled his belt

“Or maybe you’re just weak” She smiled kissing his neck soft over one of her marks she had made

[plooto]

⋆˙✧⋆｡ kinkmas day 6 — thigh riding ｡⋆✧˙⋆

warnings ❆. sully ! reader , age gap , size difference , infidelity , na’vi pet name ( ngatsyìp -> little you ) , thigh riding , dry humping but not dry .

now playing : santa tell me ; ariana grande

0:46 ───|────── 2:02

volume : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯▯

you knew exactly what you were doing.

feinting innocent smiles and looks as your fingers teasingly danced along tonowari’s pretty turquoise skin. you knew he couldn’t resist you, not when he relished in how small you were compared to him. you teased him because you knew he wouldn’t reprimand you. no, he wouldn’t reprimand you in front of his mate, much less your father.

you waited patiently for him in your mauri that night, being the oldest of the sullys, you were made your own mauri as you would ‘need the space’ according to your father, to which you didn’t argue with because that meant more time you could spend with your father’s best friend.

“ yn. ” your head snapped up to see tonowari, he was upset - just teetering the edge of sexually frustrated. you smiled up at him, standing to walk over to him, swaying your hips just the way you knew he liked. but your advances weren’t met with the rough kiss, or a hand around your throat applying just enough pressure to make your mind fuzzy, no. your back was pressed against the wall of your mauri, tonowari’s thick thigh between the apex of yours.

“ such a brat. and you know what happens to brats? ” you nodded, hands reaching up to rub at his strong chest. he pulled your tiny wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head with a grip that would definitely leave bruises later. you felt wetness pool against his thigh as he yanked you higher up on it, his breath fanning against your lips.

“ wari~ y- ah! ” you squealed as he grinned you on his thigh, you felt yourself clench around nothing, wetness soiling your loin. you looked up at him, bottom lip trembling as whimpers escaped you.

you looked so pretty like this tonowari thought. so pretty.

“ rule two, yn: do not tease me when others are near. especially ronald and your father. ” you nodded dumbly, too blissed to properly understand what he was saying. he knew you weren’t going to listen, no matter how many times he punished you, you always knew just the right way to get under his skin.

“ wari please~ need you! ” you cried out, feeling heat pool in your stomach as your hips stuttered.

“ no. you cum here. you are lucky i do not make you work for it. ” you shook your head, tugging at your wrists so you could wrap them around his neck, to kiss him. your breathing grew rigid as your body followed, a flex of his thigh sending you over the edge. he didn’t cease his movements, the sloshing of your soaked loin going straight to his dick as he helped you ride out your high.

“ tonowari, t- too much~ ” you whimpered. this was your punishment, this was what you deserved for riling him up in front of your father.

when he moved his thigh from between your legs you let out a breath, and just as you were filling your lungs once more, you were on all fours, tonowari’s clothed length pushing against your core.

“ you’re done when i say you are ngatsyìp. ”

tags -> @luvv4j4ybe11

[mitskigetsme]

my 1n$p0 !!

That time my boyfriend said he could see the bone in the back of my neck (idk what it's calles :c)

My friend who weighed 31-36 NATURALLY

That time one of my friends called me a "3d queen" !!

My thigh gap <3

Literally any hsr character (is it normal to compare urself to fictional characters...?)

That time my step-mom sighed when I told her how much I weighed

Ariana grande.

HIP BONE.

That thing where you can see ur ribs from like ur collarbone area idk how to explain it (⁠・⁠_⁠・⁠;⁠)

[healmydesires]

nasty (j.m)

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: On a hot summer morning, you wake up with Joel’s mouth between your thighs.

genre: smut with a bit of fluff. kinda pure filth… sorry (18+ mdni)

word count: 4,2k

tags/warnings: established relationship, age gap (reader is in her late 20’s, joel is in his early 50’s although it isn’t really mentioned), soft!joel, soft!dom joel, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamic, somnophilia (consented, but it isn’t mentioned), lots of pet names, reader is described as shorter than joel, unprotected sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), joel has high key an oral fixation, pleasure!dom joel, doggy, hairpulling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, daddy kink, praise kink, creampie, heavy on the breeding kink, joel has a big dick.

a/n: the title is inspired by ariana grande’s song nasty. also in my brain this is in the same universe as “forever in your eyes”. this is truly… a huge fantasy of mine so, this is another super self indulgent piece. I hope you enjoy! <3

pls joel miller… one chance 🥺 [begs]

ao3

The sun is bright and warm on a summer morning, light slipping through the partially open blinds, warming up the bedroom. Your body slowly wakes up from its slumber, a moan falling from your lips as you register the feel of a wet tongue lapping at your slit.

Your cheeks heat up as you realise the position you’re in. You’re on your tummy, your hips are slightly tilted upwards as Joel’s tongue licks your pussy from behind like a man starved. You whimper loudly as your pussy clenches around nothing as you feel him circle the tip of his tongue around your tight wet hole. You still feel a bit sore from last night’s activities. As Joel was making you cum on his tongue for hours before he even made love to you.

“Ah, Joel!” You mewl pathetically.

“Good morning baby girl.” He groans against your heat.

You grip the bed sheets between your fingers as you slowly rut your hips against his mouth. Your core is beyond soaked, dripping underneath you onto his mouth and sheets. You were truly desperate and full of want, you needed some more relief.

“You’re dripping for me kitten,” Joel grunts as he slowly moves his fingers to your wetness, tracing your slit slowly with admiration as you try to buck your hips against his face and fingers, begging for more. “So needy for me.”

Your eyes slide shut and you whine, as he leans down to wrap his lips around your button at the same time he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your pussy.

A broken moan spills from your lips as he moves his fingers and tongue simultaneously.

This is heaven. You could literally die happily right now.

His tongue, moving slowly against your clit, as his fingers continue to fuck inside you. The wet squelching sounds makes Joel moan into your clit, causing vibrations that make your body tremble and shake. He curls his fingers against your most sensitive spot inside you, making you grind your hips against him once again.

Your walls hug every surface and ridge of his thick fingers, the sensation making your toes curl. Joel’s mouth lavishes your pussy with his tongue while he moans every now and then against you. Your hips continue to move against his face, picking up your pace gradually. Your head reels with pleasure once his tongue presses down on your needy aching clit.

“F-fuck, J-Joel, I’m so so so close. Pleeeaaaase.” You whimper begging for more.

Joel sucks at your clit while he curls his fingers into you. He eventually sucks harder on your clit, still occasionally swirling his tongue around your little button while moving his fingers inside you faster.

You’re a mess of his name, you chant Joel’s name over and over again. Eyes are squeezing shut to the point of tears, overwhelmed as he continues to pleasure you in one of the best ways he can.

You let out a moan more akin to a scream as he scissors his fingers inside your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth. With the second hard suck on your throbbing clit, you cum with a loud moan. You feel your vision turning white as your whole body writhes beneath him.

He laps at your release happily, licking your pussy lips slowly until you’re whining from the overstimulation.

“I’ll never get tired of how sweet you taste baby,” he groans against you. “I could eat this little pussy for days.” You feel him press soft kisses to your trembling thighs, his beard tickling your skin.

“Please Joel… I need you.” You whine desperately.

“What do you need sweetheart?” He says as he presses another kiss to your skin.

“Fuck me, please. I need you to fuck me.” You wiggle your hips impatiently.

“Anythin’ for you princess.” He chuckles as he grips your hips to flip you over but you quickly swat his hands away with a whine. “Sweetheart?”

“I wanna try something else this morning…”

Every damn day, you’ve been begging for him to fuck you from behind. And every time he would find excuses not to do so. He keeps telling you that he doesn’t want to hurt you. You know how big his cock is, you’re more than aware of that. But you simply don’t care, you want him to fuck you in the most filthy way possible. To stretch your tiny hole, filling you up so deliciously. You’ve been dreaming of him fucking you from behind for so long, you need it so much.

“Baby, we talked about this. You need to be patient.” Joel whispers as he caresses your hips in a soothing manner.

“Joel… I’ve been patient.”

“Sweetheart—”

“I need you. Just, pleaseeee. Please, I need it so bad. I need to be filled with your thick cock. Need you to fuck me from behind so bad. I just crave it so much. I want you to breed this little hole you love so much… Please your kitten needs it so ba—” your begging gets cut off by a high pitched whimper leaving your lips as Joel’s mouth dives back between your thighs.

Licking a long stripe along your slit, coaxing a loud, broken moan out of you. Joel’s hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he laps at you furiously. You writhe against his lips, whining and pleading for more.

He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth. It’s heavenly addicting, the way Joel’s tongue slips between your folds and dips into you, working you closer and closer to your release within each passing second.

His hands move to your ass, kneading the two cheeks as he lets you grind your hips back against his face. Sweet little noises of ecstasy leave your lips as he continues to lick and suck at your pussy.

You shudder as his lips wrap around your throbbing clit again, sucking lightly. You cry out as you feel yourself get closer to your second high of the morning. You squeeze your eyes shut as you pick up your pace, unable to handle the unbearable pleasure you’re experiencing as the coil in your stomach is about to snap.

You mewl loudly as Joel plunges his tongue inside your pussy. Massaging your inner walls, driving you insane. He sucks and licks with fervour.

“Joel, please, I’m close, fuck fuck fuck,” You stutter out a loud cry.

He increases his pace, tongue thrusting inside your pulsing hole rapidly. Your body’s temperature is rising as you move your hips, fucking his tongue.

“P-please.” You moan, your voice sounding so broken.

“Come for me kitten.” He groans against your pussy before plunging back his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit applying pressure. You come with a loud whine, your vision turning white and your ears ringing as your whole body racks with such intense pleasure, you almost thought it might make you pass out.

Gasping out his name, you grasp the sheets in your hands at the intense pleasure. Your pussy keeps clenching around his tongue as he continues to pleasure you. Your hips are stuttering until the final waves of aftershock have passed. Gently, he laps at your release until the overstimulation is getting too much.

His hands caress your ass fondly as he pulls his mouth away from your throbbing heat.

“You did so well angel, you’re always so good to me. Such a good girl. I can never get enough of how good you taste.” He murmurs.

You whimper at both the oversensitivity and his words. As you’re trembling and coming down from your high he moves to press wet kisses all the way up towards your neck. Your whimpers, whines and moans don’t stop as he spoils your body with his touch and his affection.

“I love you so much sweet girl.” Joel whispers as he nuzzles his head between your neck and your shoulder.

You feel yourself melting underneath him at his words, touch and kisses, “I love you too.” Joel presses open mouthed kisses against your neck, shoulders and jaw. Leaving you a whimpering mess. You’re wiggling your hips against him, situating his hard length between your ass cheeks. Joel’s hands come to grab your hips with a loud groan.

As you continue to squirm under him, his cock slides against your pussy. The action makes both of you moan and your body trembles with anticipation, hoping he would finally enter you from behind. You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as you move your hips against his, grinding your wetness against his massive cock, the tip nudging your clit or entrance every now and then.

It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting his cock against your entrance. He groans as he moves his body against yours, leaving you breathless. You feel your pussy pulse and continue to squeeze around nothing, practically begging for his cock.

His body is covering your whole body with his own. Joel nuzzles your neck as he continues to litter your skin with his kisses. You writhe against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.

Joel reaches down and grasps himself to line up between your lips and slide. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“F-fuck, Joel please. I can’t do this anymore, I just need you so bad. My pussy needs you. It needs to be filled with your cock and cum. Please d-daddy. Fill this little hole up, breed this pussy. Daddy please—”

At your words Joel growls, grasps your hips and tilts them more and pushes your legs further apart. He moves to circle his tip around your entrance, pulling more desperate whines from your lips. You’re squirming, wiggling your hips, trying to push back against him but he has such a strong hold on you, making it hard for you to move too much.

“Be a good girl and be patient.” He groans against your ear.

“P-please Daddy—”

A broken gasp leaves your lips as he finally slides the tip inside you. You feel his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you know his eyes are on your pussy. He’s watching as your walls spread to begin to wrap around him. You whimper at the new angle as you try to accommodate his girth. He can barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It feels like you are being torn open, split in half.

“D-d-daddy…” you stutter and mewl.

“I know baby girl, I know.” Joel moans as he gradually slides more of his thickness inside you and you tremble more underneath him. Your pulsing walls are wrapped tightly around his cock, as your pussy pulls him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Ah, daddy… you’re so big.” You whimper.

“You take me so well kitten. Doing so good for daddy.” He moans as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he keeps pushing more of his girth in you slowly. You feel so full already and you know he’s barely halfway in.

“So full…”

“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”

The whines and whimpers and moans keep spilling from your lips as Joel continues to push deeper and deeper. Your hands continue to grip the sheets between your fingers as he penetrates your tight walls.

“Please daddy… more. I can take it.” You whine as you squirm underneath him.

He groans at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrusts the rest of his length all the way inside your heat. The head of his cock touching your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream leaves your mouth as you’re trembling underneath him, you try to adjust to his size while your pussy keeps clenching around his cock. You push your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers keep falling from your lips.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” Joel hisses.

You moan and squeeze around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands move to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.

“Please d-daddy. I need more.”

“Fuck, baby girl, you look so beautiful like this, taking me all the way… like the good girl you are.” He can’t control the words that leave his lips as his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Joel groans before he thrusts himself all the way inside your cunt again.

“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moves his hips slowly but hard against you. You cry out as he thrusts so deep inside you that it has your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continues to pulse and squeeze around his thick cock, as it tries to adjust to its girth still.

You moan loudly, arching your back and pressing your ass up against him, and he grabs your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he starts rolling his hips deeply into you. You feel his cock throbbing inside you as you tighten around him. He’s so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly making your eyes roll back in your head.

“F-fuck baby, you’re so hot like this.” Joel slowly picks up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right baby girl?”

“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-Pleeaaase f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you’re begging and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gives you a particular hard thrust.

You almost feel your arms giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Joel’s hands are clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leans down again to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travel down your spine, until he leans back up and just looks at you from behind.

Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he is making you feel.

The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more.

Joel picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, moaning you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy is so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thickness as it pulses and tightens around him. Joel moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head once again as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

Hair is sticking at the nape of your neck and back, and Joel leans closer to brush it away but instead he grabs and tugs slightly on it, at the same time he thrusts harder and faster. You whine loudly as the angle makes him hit your sensitive spot inside you. You’re literally going insane, it feels so overwhelming and good.

Your noises become louder and higher pitched as he continues his assault on your pussy, indicating that you’re getting closer as well as the sounds of your pussy that keep meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mix along with your desperate cries. “Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groans as he thrusts harder.

“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—”

You whine as your eyes roll back inside your head.

“What do you want, kitten?” He groans while one of his hands reach around you to slip against your clit making you writhe against him as he applies pressure. The pleasure has the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.

“Oh, m-my goood… please J-j-d-daddy, h-harder, faster p-p-pleaaseee.” You squeak out in between moans. The wet noises of him easing into you over and over has your cheeks burning, realising just how wet and needy you are for him.

Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck, picking up his pace again, fucking you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. Suddenly, everything was becoming too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You try to catch your breath but from how Joel is thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it feels almost impossible to do so.

“I-it feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”

“Does that feel good, sweet girl?” He asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”

“Yes! I-it feels sooooo gooood, Joeeel—” you whine as he continues to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Joel’s fingers continue to press down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continues to build up as the pleasure is becoming too overwhelming.

Joel snaps his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. Feeling like your head is swimming once again, you whine. “I’m sooo so close, p-please…” you beg desperately. You only need one more little push, a little bit more attention to reach your peak.

You are crying out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name, and he moves his head down again and presses kisses down your neck.

“Come for me kitten…” he whispers against your ear.

“Ah—”

His hips never slow down as he massages your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head while you arch your back as your world dissolves into pure ecstasy. You can’t stop yourself from shaking as you come against him. You almost black out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimper as the overstimulation is getting to you.

“Daddy wants to fill you up, baby girl.” He groans as his pace is becoming erratic, with less finesse as he charges towards his own finish line. “Going to fuck a my cum into you, kitten. Get you nice and full…”

Your walls pulse and become tighter around him as he continues to hit your cervix. He groans as his movements become more sloppy. Loud mewls leave your lips as he finally spills his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pools deep inside you.

“Ah...” you whimper underneath him as your body continues to shake.

Joel exhales deeply as he feels himself come down from his high. He gently pulls out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you feel his eyes on you, knowing that he’s watching his seed drool out of you. Your pussy continues to clench repeatedly around nothing and he feels himself harden again at the sight.

You’re still trying to catch your breath as you whine every now and then. He moves off the bed, making his way to the bathroom to get a warm, wet cloth and returns to your legs to clean you carefully. Once he’s done he comes back into bed, wrapping his arms around you instantly.

You feel his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. You tighten the hold you have around him, holding him close, pressing a soft kiss on the top of his head.

“That was truly amazing Joel… thank you.” You whisper against his hair before you hear him chuckle, his body shaking as he laughs softly.

“Any time baby. You know I’d do anythin’ for ya.” He says before bringing his head towards yours, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you.” You whisper as you pull away to look at him tenderly while your fingers trace his face, his beard fondly.

“I love you too, sweetheart. So much.” He whispers back as he leans down to kiss your lips. The kiss is like velvet against yours, and there’s no hurry when he tilts his head a millimetre to fit against you better. His lips are so soft, swollen from all the kisses you’ve shared. His mouth moves, delicate and slow. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world.

His mouth moves slowly from your lips to the rest of your face, littering your skin full with them. “You did so well for me, such a good girl for me,” he whispers as he places soft kisses against your temples. Your cheeks burn at his sweet words. He leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. Kissing each other languidly for a while before you feel him trace your thighs with his fingers. You pull away and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What?” He chuckles, playing coy and tries not to laugh as you shake your head with mock annoyance.

“I know what you are thinking.” You squint your eyes at him suspiciously.

“And what am I thinking?” He asks playfully, staring you down as he tries to stifle a grin.

“Well, I don’t even have to say what you’re thinking, I already feel you getting hard again mister.” You say with a playful smile as you poke his chest. He quickly grabs your hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at the action.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He whispers against your hand, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Right… of course you don’t.” You roll your eyes at him playfully.

You yelp as you feel him pinch your ass. “Don’t be a brat.” He grabs your ass in his hands, bringing you closer against him as you whimper, making him chuckle at your reaction. “You know that I’ll always want you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks at his words. “Me too.” You whisper as you bite your lips with a smile.

His eyes twinkle deviously as he squeezes your cheeks in his hands. “I could wear you out even more than I did last night.” Joel says cheekily, winking as a smirk plays on his lips.

“Joel!” You give him a playful push as your cheeks heat up at his words. Joel laughs before wrapping his arms around you, puckering his lips while making kissy noises and littering your face with kisses which makes you giggle and squirm against him. Joel’s grip tightens around you as he continues to kiss you all over your face playfully.

“I know you love it baby girl, don’t try to deny it.” He whispers before leaning his head down to kiss your neck, you squeak and continue to squirm against him.

“What if I say I don’t?” You taunt teasingly, cocking your head to the side.

“Then you’re a terrible liar.” He says looking all smug before his lips nip at your jawline.

Your giggles turn to breathy whimpers the more he kisses and licks your neck. You feel yourself lose easily in his kisses and touches, your body turning to mush instantly.

“I’ve been very nice, very good to you… Maybe you’d love to cum around me again?” He smiles as he looks down at you deviously as you gasp, giving him a playful push again.

“Joel!!” You squeal before he holds your body close to his, swallowing your noises as he kisses you deeply. Both of your laughs turn into breathy moans as you both continue to touch each other.

The morning continues like this, your fingers wandering all over each other, giving each other kisses all over as the pleasure between you two doesn’t stop. The day is filled with love and desire for one another, you will never get tired of loving that man.

He’s your heaven.

[sab3rtooth]

true veterans remember when ariana grande had a tumblr and she posted a pic of her thigh gap with all of her weight loss tips underneath

[xginata]

Good Girl

Prompt: Dilf!Daichi. First time on a date since his divorce. In his late 30’s- early 40’s. Reader is in their 20’s so a bit of an age gap. Curvy! reader.

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI!!) Daddy kink, breeding kink, slight overstimulation/edging, mans knows what the fuck he’s doing. Big, thick, veiny cock, creampie, daichi has too much energy, praise!!!!

(Im a slow writer) Written to: Love Again by Ta-ku, Unfold by Alina Baraz, Eleven by Khalid, Positions by Ariana Grande, wrong places by HER, orbit by nao, gentleman-gallant

Notes: been on a dilf!Daichi brain rot for a minute. I’ve been working on a couple of prompts but in the meantime, here’s this! Super proud of it ngl. Probably will be a multiple parter. Idk yet.Didnt proofread this, was so excited to post. Sorry in advance!!!

You walked down the sixth aisle of your local grocery store, your small cart was already packed. You looked for the last item and to your annoyance it was on the top shelf. You huffed as you stood on your tippy toes, struggling to get the item.

Daichi had just turned the corner, he noticed your struggle and decided to help you before you got hurt. You were startled as his fingertips touched yours and proceeded to grab the item for you.

“Here you go.” His smile was warm. He eyed you down slowly as you thanked him. His eyes had small crows feet showing and his smile was more prominent from the subtle lines appearing over the years.

He grabbed an item off the shelf for himself and you noticed the fitted black shirt raise a little bit. His body was muscular, with a small layer of fat surrounding it. His biceps were almost making you drool.

You grabbed your last item from the aisle and started making your way to the register.

Daichi in the meantime was struggling with himself internally, thinking about your alighted smile when he gave you what you were struggling for. He thought of the way you looked, with your tongue peeking out in concentration before he helped you. He thought of how beautiful you looked, your body too.

It was the middle of spring and you were wearing shorts that fit so well against your ass and thighs, still your thick thighs were spilling over the material. Your shirt rested just above the waist band of your shorts so when you reached up for the item Daichi had a good look at your midriff. He was practically drooling over your curves at that point.

He wanted to ask you out, but having been recently divorced and taking care of his child he thought it wasn’t the best. Plus I’m old. He said to himself in defeat. He hoped he would see you again at least.

A couple days passed and Daichi, to be completely honest was going to the store almost every other day, hoping to see you again. Especially after having a pep talk from his best frieng Sugawara.

“You need to ask her out. Who cares that you’re divorced? That shouldn’t matter. And if you need me to take care of your kid for a date I totally will! You’re a total hunk for being in your middle ages so shut up and get her number.” Suga convinced him finally.

Daichi roamed the store, hoping to see your familiar face as he grabbed the short list of items he convinced himself he needed.

He turned the corner giving up his search and settling on getting a tub of ice cream for the night. As he did he saw you, struggling one again to grab the item. He walked over to you and helped you out once more.

You smiled and giggled, immediately recognizing the unnamed handsome stranger.

“Caramel and vanilla huh? Classic.” Daichi said as he reached for his own flavor.

“Pistachio?” You said and scrunched your nose. It wasn’t your favorite flavor but it suited his tastes for sure.

“I’m Sawamura Daichi.” He greeted you, softly grabbing your extended handed as you told him your name.

“Thanks for your help again.” You threw your ice cream in the basket and fixed your hair to the side. A small flirtatious gesture you would do subconsciously.

“Of course.” Daichi said, it was quiet for a minute as he worked up the courage to ask you on a date.

“So—“ you both started, you both chuckled and as a gentleman he insisted you speak first.

“Um, here.” You reached in your purse for a scrap piece of paper and you scribbled your number on it along with your name. You also had been as interested as he was. The thought at first was a little weird, he was clearly a lot older than you but you couldn’t get him off your mind since the first day you met.

“Call me tonight or whenever you can.” You stumbled over your words and he smiled.

“You beat me to asking your for your number.” He admitted and it made your heart flutter. He was interested too.

You both walked to the registers to pay, you split paths as you both went back your respective homes. Both of you with an elated smile as you drove home.

The same night Daichi called you, and asked you on a date which you said yes to.

Daichi felt like he was in his 20’s all over again, recieving and sending you good morning texts and small text for the next few days leading up to your date. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow :)

You texted him once you got home from work. You both, hadn’t been back to the store in a while. You wanted the next time you saw him to be on your date and he wanted the same. Unspokenly, you both came to that agreement.

Me too. Get some sleep sweetheart :)

Daichi responded.

Okay, daddy :P

You were lying if you said you didn’t mean to send that to him. You almost panicked and tried to blame it on autocorrect until your phone ringed with his reply. Making a blush creep up your cheeks and you shifted, getting rid of the pressure in your thighs.

Good girl ;)

An audible ‘eek’ left your lips as your head hit the pillow and you drifted off into sleep with images of you and Daichi.

The next day Daichi was busy the whole morning, getting a quick haircut, doing laundry, cleaning up his place and buying the necessities to make dinner for you. Also leaving his toddler with Suga. A small pang of guilt washed over him but Suga assured him, it was fine. He deserved to move on and regardless he was an amazing father to his toddler.

Daichi was an expectional cook and wanted to show off for you, you agreed to coming to his place for your date. You were also busy the whole morning, tidying up your own place for no reason other than eagerness once you finished your other tasks.

You weren’t too sure what to wear but ultimately you picked something comfortable but still able to accentuate your curves.

You pulled your dark blue jeans over your ass after a bit of a struggle and pulled a light blue tank top over, tucking it in. The combination made your body curvier almost, a soft muffin top but you could care less. You grabbed a beige long cardigan and threw it on. You fixed up your hair and added any final touches.

On my way xx

You texted him as you got into your car and turned on the directions to his place.

Drive safe sweetheart. See you soon.

You were a blushing mess the whole way there as your listened to the most sensual songs, somewhat unconsciously. You weren’t hoping or assuming for things to get so hot tonight but the thought was there and if you both wanted it, well you were willing.

The thought of him drilling your pussy as you parked in his driveway filled your head. You quickly shooked it off. Daichi walked out of his house, quickly making his was to your door and pulling it open for you.

He’s such a gentleman.

The gesture made your heart flutter. Not even in the best relationship you had been in before, had anyone done that for you. He was so kind and it made you hope this wasn’t some kind of joke.

“You look so beautiful.” Daichi said as he grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go as he led you into his home. It was so tidy, and bright. In the living room, his couches were decorated with pillows, a little play set lay on the far corner. The stereo was on filling the house with light music.

You removed your shoes and set them neatly on a rack he had, your bag also rested on a stand he had next to it. You were surprised, all of your exes were sloppy in comparison to Daichi.

You followed him through a passageway, connecting the kitchen and small dining area together. The back sliding doors, let in a beautiful glow. Everything looked golden.

He sat you directly in front of him. The table was full of amazing food. The sight was making your mouth water. He popped the bottle of rosé and poured some in your glass.

You were astonished, in all honesty. The whole time you were taken back in all the effort Daichi put into this.

Dinner was filled with talk about anything and everything you both could think of. Conversation flowed so smoothly with Daichi. The small bits of silence were comfortable and short, Daichi picking up the conversation again. Once you were both satisfied with dinner and dessert he picked up your plate and moved you to the living room, your glass in hand. You insisted on helping him but he refused, ushering you out.

You heard clinking of plates and running water as you walked through his living room, looking at the pictures frames littered throughout. A majority of them were of him and his toddler, warming your heart at the thought. The rest were pictures of him and what you assume to be his best friends.

You didn’t notice him in the doorway until, he cleared his throat.

“My old high school volleyball teammates.” He said.

“Sorry, I’m being nosy.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” He said as he brushed the frayed hair off your face.

Your beath hitched, he was so close to your face. He chucked lightly and sat on the couch. Motioning for you to follow. You set the glass on the table.

“I’m glad you said yes. I was so nervous.” Daichi admitted. And you scotted closer to him.

“You didn’t need to be. I thought you were pretty hot.” You blurted.

“Really?” Daichi laughed.

“Well, I thought the same about you.” He licked his lips, your thighs cleanched together at the sight.

You both were inching towards each other again, his fingers were playing with your hair as yours were fidgeting on your lap, unsure of where to put them.

He grabbed your hand with his free one and rested it on his chest. The hard muscle was softened and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His breath was hot against your skin. The sweet pistachio scent mixed with your caramel vanilla.

You were growing impatient, he would inch closer to you ever so slowly. You tried closing the space between you but his hands pulled you back by your hair softly.

“So impatient sweetheart. Tell me what you want.” Daichi said.

“You.” You mumbled.

Both of you equally, let the slight intoxication guide your movements and thoughts.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.” He said as his lips got closer, brushing yours.

“You.”

“Me, who?” He challenged.

You were red at the the memory of calling him daddy.

“You, daddy.” You replied still timidly.

He let out a small moan as his lips crashed on yours. He was kissing you so perfectly, his tongue licking yours. Your thighs pressed together trying to get some form of release. His hands gripped your thighs, motioning you to ride his lap. Your lips only parted for small gasps of air.

Your hands slid acros his soft toned chest, up his neck and wrapped into his hair as his lips finally left yours, leaving small pecks across your cheek and all over your neck, down to your chest that was on full display thanks to the tank top.

You couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers that fell from your lips as he gently attacked your neck and chest with harsh kisses. His strong hands were resting on your hips, his hands slowly motioned you to rest your clothed cunt on his thigh. He slowly helped you find a rhythm, rubbing yourself against his thigh. The jeans you wore, made you feel suffocated and deprived of his touch. It was a torturous feeling.

“Daddy...please.” You begged, the torture was too much, enough to make you cry from the impatience. You longed to be touched by Daichi.

“I’ll give you what you want for being such a good girl.” His hands gripped your thighs, his hips moved upward, making you let out a whine. He was hard against his own pair of jeans.

His strong arms were wrapped around your body as he held you close. He carried you up the stairs no problem, keeping your lips attached the whole time. He opened a door to his bedroom.

With a final kiss he set you down slowly on the bed. He kneeled in between your legs as he took his shirt off.

Your hands instantly move to feel his hot skin, you sit up and undo his jeans, pushing them down until they bunch up around his knees. His bulge becomes less restricted against his boxer briefs. You pull them down too and his cock twitches slightly.

“You got me so hard sweetheart.” Daichi hisses as your hands wrap around the base and tug.

“It’s so big.” You mumble to yourself as you spit on it. And it really was, aside from being a comfortable length, his girth was bigger than you expected and had taken ever. Your hand barely wrapped around it.

“Yeah babygirl? And it’s all for you. ‘M gonna fill up that sweet pussy of yours with it.” He says as he stops you to peck your lips.

“Take your top off sweetheart.” As you take him in slowly, working on the head of his cock first, you shove your cardigan off and pull away to take off your tank top next. Your pastel blue bra, comes off next as he reaches over to undo the hooks.

He cups your face to make you look at him, “Can I fuck your face babygirl?” He asks as his thumb plays with your bottom lip. You nod.

“Take it all in babygirl, I know you can do it.” He encourages as he pushes his cock into your mouth, creating a sheath for it almost, not quite as there is too much length left over for you to fit.

He pulls out of your mouth slowly and enters again. He repeats this motion, getting faster and faster until your eyes are welling up with tears and you’re gagging on his cock. Having to pull away to catch your breath, spit drools down on your chest.

The sight of Daichi wrecking your mouth, only makes his dick harder and leaves you both with the thought of the after a once he fucks your pussy too. He lays you back, and undoes your jeans, pulling them off, along with his.

“You’re dripping babygirl. You’re already so slick, I can see it.” He praises, his hands separate your thighs apart.

His fingers are slow and smooth, as he massages around your pussy. Your breathing slows, in anticipation. His fingers slowly separate your folds, he takes the pad of his thumb and connects it to your clit, eliciting a moan from you as he rubs slowly.

He loves the way he’s making you squirm under him. Your eyes rolled to the back of you head, you body was moving on it’s own and you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel so good just from their hands.

His fingers keep playing with your pussy as he slowly penetrates you with his middle finger, creating a smooth rhythm. His ring finger joins in and your hands wrap around his hair, tugging harshly.

“You’re so wet baby. So tight around these fingers, how are we gonna fit my big cock inside of you?” He teases.

“I have to get you ready for this cock babygirl.” He says and slowly adds in his index finger, making you cry out in both pain and pleasure.

His mouth engulfs around your clit, his tongue licks around your clit, making you feel impatient you buck your hips up but with his other hand he pins your hips back down.

His tongue licks on your clit, sucking slightly.

“‘So good.” You moan breathlessly as his fingers slowly caress your insides. His tongue is sloppy against your clit but something about it makes it feel so good. His speed was crawled out, not fast, ultimately bringing you to your climax. Your breaths shortening and your moans growinng into whines as you rode out your climax. Daichi didn’t move, his fingers kept his rhythm as your cunt tightened around them, and his tongue was harsher on your clit.

“You taste so good, I can’t get enough of you.” He stopped his movements to praise you, he licked around his fingers and back onto your clit.

“D-daddy. I can’t...” You were breathless, the feeling of your climax still fresh . “No more.” You whined but Daichi kept his mouth on your wet sex. The feeling was too much, your eyes rolling once more and your body stiffened once more.

“Daddy!” Another orgasm washed over your body, leaving you a shuddering mess underneath his tongue.

Daichi wore a smirk as he saw your flushed face, your were trying to still your breaths as you noticed him eyeing your body. You grabbed a pillow and covered yourself in slight embarrassment, he really was so good at his. He had so much experience over you, it was almost intimidating.

He grabbed the pillow from you and threw it on the floor. You tried grabbing another pillow but with one hand he pinned down both your wrists.

“Don’t cover up for me. Never cover up for me.” He growled lowly in your ear. His mouth was on yours, you moaned as you tasted your own juices on his mouth. His mouth slipped from yours and left small kisses down your neck, and chest. He sucked on your nipple, giving them equal attention. It was torturous.

“Please, please... fuck me.” You whined.

“Condom?” He questions.

“Don’t need one.” You say, both of you thanking your birth control.

“You’re ready huh, babygirl? I’ll give you this fat cock.” Daichi’s hands let go of your wrists. His cock is aligned at your entrance, he rubs his cock against your entrance and you’re dying in anticipation. Your hips buck and your pussy is pounding.

He pushes the head of his cock through your folds, the sudden penetration makes you inhale sharply.

“Just the head is too much for your tight little pussy. Are you sure you can take daddy’s fat cock?” He asks makes you look at him, his hand gripping your jaw.

“Yes, daddy. I can do it.” You huff.

“Such a good girl.” He pushes in deeper. His cock, stretching you out with every push. A sharp stinging mixed with pleasure shudders through your body.

Soft appraisals fall from his lips as he bottoms out, his balls flush against you skin. You didn’t realize your eyes were closed until he spoke up.

“Look at me, keep those pretty eyes open. Look at me while I fuck your cunt.” He demands and you try your best to keep your eyes open but the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you has your head lolling to the side and your eyes closing.

He slaps your thigh, jolting you up. “I said look at me.” He growls and you force your eyes open. You look up at him through your lashes.

“‘M sorry daddy, it just feels so good.” You draw out your words.

He slowly moves his hips, pulling out just before the head of his cock and slowly penetrates you again. He keeps his rhythm and you keep your eyes on him. His words are soft with you, even if they are plenty dirty.

“You’re taking this cock so well.”

“Good girl.”

“Look at that pussy, love the way it takes it all in.”

“Love stuffing you with this cock.”

“It’s so tight, you’re milking this cock baby aren’t you?”

“You want daddy’s cum?”

As his words spill, and fill your head all you can do is hum or moan in response.

“I’m gonna...” you feel your third orgasm of the night creeping up.

“No, not yet.” He pulls out suddenly but before you have time to complain he moves your body on top of his. Your back is flush against his chest, his dick enters you again and he hooks his arms around your legs, pulling them up your knees on either side of your head. His hands push your head down, and you can see it. The way his cock stuffs your pussy. He’s got you in a Nelson.

Your cunt is full of his cock, both of your juices are already coating your pussy and thighs. His hips move up, fucking you just like that.

“Look at that babygirl.”

“You like the way I fuck you? Had to show the way you take it, it’s just so good.” He praises again.

His hips move up faster, the sound of his skin slapping into you mixes with your moans. He moves a hand down and rubs your clit.

“Milk this cock baby.”

“Gonna put my seed in you. Take it all.” He grunts.

“Daddy. Coming..” is all you manage to say as you rub your hips into his, your pussy clenches around his cock.

His cock twitches as he spills into you.

“Fuck.” He moans as he feels your pussy pounding and twitching around his cock.

Your body is limp, you’re physically unable to move. Daichi slowly pulls out of you, both of you drawing in a sharp inhale at the lack of your sex.

He gently moves out from under you. He walks to his bathroom and reappears with a warm towel. He cleans off your body as words of praise leave his lips again.

[girlmostlikely]

Did freeleethebananagirl ever contribute to ur ED in any way bc she did to me I used to religiously watch her vids as a teenager and think her advice was solid lmao fuck her

I never watched her but I’ve heard a lot about her and I agree. My ED was fed (lol) into by the selfies of Ariana Grande since I was a fan of hers as a kid. I did whatever I could to match my body to hers. I won’t post the pics but she was notorious for posting photos in popular thinspo poses (still is) where she shows off her ribcage, chest bones, thigh gap, etc. As I type this I’m realizing that this is possibly why I despise her so much in my mid 20s LMAO

[simpsiren]

jaehyun x reader

description. A relationship with Jaehyun wasn’t always perfect. There wasn’t a definite label on it, which only sent the relationship down a complicated pathway as we tried to find the meaning of our love once again.

genre. ANGST, college!au, enemies(?) to lovers, dancer!reader x barista!jaehyun

word count. 7k~

warnings. toxic relationship, im so sorry i had to make jaehyun a bad boy here BUT IT HAS A GOOD ENDING I SWEAR

a/n. hihiii so this fic is basically based on using lyrics of a song to form a story and for mine ill be using boyfriend by ariana grande so hope youll enjoyy! please check out the other stories by the other authors here too!!

“I don't wanna be too much

But I don't wanna miss your touch

And you don't seem to give a fuck”

It’s been weeks. Weeks since I’ve talked to Jaehyun. Weeks since I’ve made any form of interaction with him. Weeks since I had his body close to mine.

He’s been ignoring me and yet I still can never guess why. I saw him walking out of his Psychology class today. I put my foot down, determined to settle on the decision that I just have to force it out of him instead of floating around mindlessly trying to dissect and figure out his weird attitude.

He walked down the hallway, bag lazily hung on one shoulder. He wore his black hoodie and grey sweatpants. His messy and unkept hair bouncing in the air with each step he took. It meant that he’s had a bad morning. I knew him long enough to know that if he doesn’t put effort into looking good then it meant that he wasn’t having any of it. I did think twice before approaching him. But he has left me in the dust for too long for me to handle.

“Jaehyun.” I said with a firm voice, running up to him and grabbing his arm tightly. He stopped in his tracks, his head turning slowly as his eyes trailed from my grip and to me. “What?” Jaehyun asked, sounding annoyed with his brows furrowed and narrowed eyes.

“What? That’s all you have to say?” I jerked my head forward, copying his same expression except that mine was intensified with how arrogant is What sounded. “Three fucking weeks. And that’s all you have to say?”

Jaehyun shook his arm to get off of my grip. Due to the force of his strength, I stumbled back slightly. He folded his arms, hands hugging his waist as he glanced down with a sigh and looked at me. “What do you want me to say?”

I scoffed loudly, running a hand filled with frustration through my hair. I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder before standing firm and upright in my spot.

“An explanation on why the fuck you’re ignoring me would be nice, you know.” Jaehyun smacked his lips, almost in an awkward manner. But he kept silent for at least ten seconds, just staring down at me.

“I have nothing to explain.” Jaehyun finally let out dryly. But in a way it sounded like he was mad. My pupils flared. Rage was starting to build up in me while he kept up his nonchalant attitude. Jaehyun shoved his hands in his sweatpants and walked off. I would have stopped him, but I chose not to.

I didn’t want to annoy too much if I asked him again. All I wanted was to know why he kept ignoring me all this time. But it seemed like he didn’t care. Like he was able to erase me cleanly out of his life, ignoring me completely. He avoided my glances in class, he acted as if he didn’t hear anything when I called out to him and he’d walk past me casually as if nothing between us happened.

I stood there, staring at his back as his figure started to get smaller and further till he turned a corner and disappeared. I balled a fist in my hand, squeezing it so tight that my fingernails made an impression on my skin and having red marks on my palm.

To be honest, as much as I was mad at him, I missed him a whole lot more. I missed having his arms around me, I missed his whispers, I missed my fingers running through his soft locks. I missed his touch. I didn’t know I could be this touch-deprived till he ignored me. I walked back to my dorm, specifically Mark’s so that I could let off some steam.

“Wait like actually?” Mark shouted from the kitchen while he took out the large tub of strawberry ice cream and watermelon slices from the fridge.

I screamed into the pillow more, digging my face into it till I finally lifted my head up and took in a deep breath, turning my head sharply to Mark. “Yeah. Can you believe it?!” I shouted back, watching Mark bringing the desserts and taking a seat next to me. I shoved the pillow beside me and slumped into the couch with folded arms.

“I never thought he’d do something like that. He’s always been kind to me. And everyone.” Mark commented, picking up and watermelon slice and munching on it with a dreamy sigh. I huffed, grabbing the ice cream angrily and picking up the spoon, shoving it in forcefully to take a spoonful and eating it. “Not to me apparently.” I said with rolled eyes.

“We were completely fine before. I don’t know what happened and that’s what’s driving me insane!” I groaned out. After forcing Mark to get me ice cream, I thought my anger would subside at least a tiny bit. But having Jaehyun running circles in my mind has done it for me. Isn’t mind Jaehyun suppose to be the tired one here?

“Ah wait!” I alerted Mark, gaping my mouth open as I quickly turned my head to him. Mark does the same with raised brows. “Huh what? You know why he’s ignoring you?” Mark tilted his head and leaned in with curiosity.

I shook my head furiously, making Mark backed his head till his double chin showed. “Then what?”

“The dance assignment! Shit I forgot! Did you start?” I dropped the tub in my lap amd slapped Mark’s thigh vigorously, starting to get panicky as I remembered the assignment I’m suppose to pass up in a month’s time. Mark gave a half-shrug. “I’m doing solo for this one. Have you not started?”

“No! Urgh I can’t do solos. Is there anyone that wants a duet?” Mark puckered his lips, tilting his head up as he thought about it for a moment. “How about Taeyong?” He suggested. I looked at him with disbelief.

“Um hello? It’s Lee Taeyong. I’m pretty sure he’s doing solo. Even if he were to do a duet, all the girls would be fighting for the spot next to him.” I reached forward to pick up a watermelon slice and shoving it in my mouth despite the fact that I still had a little ice cream in my mouth.

“You never know. Just ask him next practice.” I let out a quiet ‘tsk’ I stared down at the table while I slowly chewed and swallowed all the food in my mouth. At least now I had something to do that can hopefully get my mind off Jaehyun.

“And I might not be the one for you

But you ain't about to have no boo.”

During dance theory in the lecture hall, I kept my eyes on Taeyong, who was sitting in the center a few rows lower than me. I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, head facing him and I pondered about how I can master up the courage to talk to him.

He’s the best dancer among all dance majors. From techniques to theory, he’s gotten perfect scores every time. It felt somewhat wrong for me to talk to someone of a high status like that. And of course his talent and visuals has had girls swooning over him for years.

I snapped back to reality when I reallse everyone started to pack and stand up from their seat. I blinked my eyes rapidly as I looked around before turning back to Taeyong, heaving a sigh as I notice him still standing there. I quickly packed up my things, slinging my tote bag on and rushing down the flight of stairs to where Taeyong was.

I was now standing in front of him, his bright red hair standing out while he kept his eyes on his things while packing up. “Taeyong?” I called out softly, bending forward. He finally lifted his head up. “Hi?” He asked, questionably.

“Um I was wondering what you’re planning to do for the assignment.” Taeyong glanced sideways before meeting my eyes. As I stared at him, I really now could see why all girls fall in love with him. I’ve never seem to notice since I’ve always been caught up with Jaehyun.

“Actually I’m-”

“It’s fine if you have another person to do duet with you. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of options and that’s totally fine I understand-”

“I didn’t even finish my sentence.” Taeyong cut me off with a light chuckle, a small smile forming on his face. He was so attractive. “Oh right sorry.” I blurted out, turning my head to the side and rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

“I was saying that I haven’t thought about what I wanted to do yet.” Taeyong stood up, holding his bag in his fingers with the handle. He was so close to me and I got extremely terrified with his height. Though the gap difference wasn’t much. I guess I’m just intimidated by his presence. “Mark recommended that we should team up.” I finally let out, forcing myself to not beat around the bush anymore to get this done and over with.

Taeyong’s smile got a whole lot brighter and bigger till his eyes form a thin line. “Sure! Been doing solos too much and you’re quite good.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. Firstly, he said yes. Secondly, he noticed me dance before? I mean of course we saw everyone dancing but I never imagined Taeyong to actually look at me dances.

“Wait really?! Oh my God thank you! Um so do you have any classes after this?” I bounced on the ball of my feet excitedly, a smile unconsciously forming on my lips. Taeyong shook his head. “You want to start today?” I nodded my head eagerly.

“Alright. Let’s head to the dance studio. We only have one month left.”

Due to the limited time we had, it forced Taeyong and I to have dance practices almost everyday, particularly every night. We’d either use the dance studio and his own one out of campus that wasn’t far away. I started to bond with Taeyong more and more, realising how sweet and soft he was despite looking so intimidating at first. I liked the time I spent with Taeyong. He was able to make it fun for us even though we’d be laying on the floor dying by the end.

One practice, Taeyong and I just finished cleaning up our choreography that Taeyong was expertly able to come up by the third practice. It became normal for us to just lay down, arms and legs spread out on the floor as we stared up at the ceiling and let out loud and heavy breathing be heard.

That is, until my phone rang.

“You should get that.” Taeyong rolled over, his stomach on the floor while he kept his upper body up with the support of his elbows and forearm on the floor. I sighed, frowning. “I can’t be bothered to move.” The phone’s been ringing for minutes now.

Taeyong chuckled and stood up after taking in a deep breath, reaching his hand out to my bag and sliding me my phone. “Thanks.” I muttered as Taeyong sat down beside our bags to grab his drink.

I looked at the caller, instantly sitting up straight when I reallsed it’s Jaehyun. My sudden actions caused Taeyong to let out a, “Who’s calling?” I assumed he examined my shocked expression after asking that as I kept my eyes on the phone, Jaehyun’s name bolden on my screen.

I then remembered the fact that I blocked his contact a few months back and it had a time limit on it. And I guess the limit ended today.

“I’m picking up the call. And if I start screaming, you might want to run. Cause’ I’m about to get a lil bit psychotic.” Despite my warning, Taeyong let out a humorous laugh, nodding his head in response. “Alright, alright.” He said, waving his hand out lazily as a way to say, “Now go pick up the call.”

One click of a button and I brought my phone up to my ear, hearing Jaehyun’s heavy breathing. “Where the fuck are you?” His voice was low and deep, one filled with anger, but not the shouting kind. “I’m at a dance studio...?”

“Yeah and with who?” Jaehyun growled. I turned my head to the mirror, seeing Taeyong looking at my back. “With Taeyong. So what?” I questioned him, wanting to sound nonchalant.

Jaehyun scoffed in amusement. “At two in the morning?! You serious right now?!” His voice raised with each word, he was now screaming and I began to get scared. “How’s this your problem?! I’m practicing for my assignment with Taeyong. What the hell did you think I was doing!” I couldn’t help but shout back, wanting to fight and top his level of rage and anger. I had the right to be mad since he ignored me for so long. But for him to suddenly care about what I do and who I’m with? That wasn’t going to cut it for me.

“I don’t give a damn. I’m picking you up right now. Tell me your location.”

“No! We’re not done practicing!” I lied, groaning as I leaned forward and placed a hand on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“Practice another day-”

I didn’t notice Taeyong creeping up behind me, flinching when I felt his hand on my wrist, pulling my phone away from my ear. He snatched it out of my grip and held the phone to his ear. “You heard her. We’re still practicing. I don’t why you’re so worked up. But you can speak with her tomorrow. Have a good night now.” Taeyong sounded extremely professional, proceeding to end the call and handing my phone back.

“You didn’t have to...” Taeyong sat down beside me and sighed, the two of us now facing the mirror as we stared at ourselves. “I didn’t want you to go psychotic.” He joked, making me laugh slightly, though it hurt my core due to the physical training we did before actually practicing.

“Is that your boyfriend or something?” He sounded curious. I kept silent, looking up as I try to phrase who Jaehyun was to me. But I ended up with no answer. “I don’t know. We’re just... complicated.” I whispered. “Let’s not talk about Jaehyun. I’m getting sick of it.”

Absentmindedly, or perhaps not, I laid my head slowly onto Taeyong’s shoulder. He didn’t move and instead stayed there as comfortable silence filled the air, not giving a thought about our sweaty bodies touching each other.

Biology lecture ended. I was walking out of the hall when I thought of texting Taeyong to see if I could meet him for a short practice. I didn’t know why, I just wanted to see him and do anything with him, it didn’t have to be practicing.

Before I could even type a single letter, my wrist was suddenly being pulled back from behind, making me fall back a few steps till the grip guided me to stand. I looked up, seeing Jaehyun standing in front of me. Immediately, my eyes looked back at him filled with arrogance. “Why were you with Taeyong yesterday?” Jaehyun asked. Suddenly, his eyes grew soft and sweet. Which made me very surprised. It’s been long since I’ve seen the sweet side of Jaehyun before he ignored me. It made me feel something in my stomach indeed.

“I told you I had practice. I’m doing a duet with him for my assignment.” I said with a quiet sigh. Jaehyun ran a hand down his face, biting his lower lip as he looked away for a moment. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry... for getting worked up. I shouldn’t have since it’s for school.”

I clicked my tongue in amusement, smugly folding my arms and placing my weight on one leg. “An apology but no explanation? You’re an odd one Jaehyun...”

“We need to have a proper chat.” I tilted my head slightly at his weird words. Confused, but also nervous as to what he wanted to talk about.

We ended up going to his dorm. His roommate was out. We sat down on the couch together, his body leaning forward to reveal his back while I leaned back into the couch. There was a gap between us, which made me feel weird. The space in between was just... just there. And the fact that we used to cuddle on this couch made this more awkward.

“So?” I asked, my curiosity already killing me. Jaehyun let out a frustrated sigh. “I think we should just cut whatever we have completely.”

“What...?” I didn’t know what else to say. I wasn’t sure what to feel either. I could tell he was breaking down silently. I didn’t even need to look twice to confirm that. But I was breaking at his words as well, looking down to my lap amd biting my bottom lip. “Why?”

“I don’t know what we are,_____. Are we friends? Cause’ from the way we treat each other we’re definitely not. We aren’t in a relationship together either. We aren’t friends with benefits. We’re going back and forth and I’m sure you’re as tired about this as I am.”

As much as I wanted to deny, I couldn’t. Our relationship and what we were to each other was certainly not definite. It always confused me and put me in a tough spot. The way we treated one another was as if we’re in love. Maybe we were, or maybe we weren’t. Questions about us had always kept me up all night. And I guess it is right that we just cut it off completely.

“You’re right. I don’t see why we should be together. Or not. I don’t fucking know.” I stood up, making my way to the door. I had my hand on the doorknob. At that moment, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted everything to go back to normal. To when I would be in Jaehyun’s lap as we talked for hours, his turn table playing old school songs that I’ve never heard of but grew to like. To when we would go out together and do whatever we wanted till late at night. Basically back to when any of this confusion even happened.

“You still haven’t told me why you completely shut me out for three months straight though. It hurt me. You owe me an explanation soon. Goodbye, Jung Jaehyun.”

“I wanna kiss you, don't wanna miss you

But I can't be with you 'cause I got issues.”

Jaehyun could only seat there in silence, not sure of what to do now. His mind went blank the moment the door closed. He felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket. He leaned forward to take it out, proceeding to pick up the phone without even looking at the caller.

“Hey.” Jaehyun said plainly. He heard a few shuffling before someone comes up to the phone, their breathing could be heard. “Jae. I need to see you. Now. It’s urgent.” He recognised the familiar voice immediately.

“Soo? Why are you calling me?” Out of all the people that could’ve called him, she was the one that Jaehyun would least expect a call from. Let alone one that he wanted to hear from either. “A matter we can’t discuss on the phone. You know where to meet. In ten minutes.” The call quickly ended.

Jaehyun raised a brow at this. Many questions and possibilities popped up in his head. He quickly dashed out the dorm after grabbing his necessities, wanting to get this done and over with.

He waited by the park. A place that he and soo have had many memories. Ones that he wish to forget. But upon his visit to the park, of course they all had to come crashing back in his mind.

Soo came and motioned him to sit down on the bench that faced the lake. The dark sky being reflected on the lake’s surface as the cold breeze of the night touched their skin. “It’s about us.”

“There’s nothing between us.” Jaehyun was quick to reply, wishing he could just get out of this situation and think over about his other problems. Particularly the one about his complicated love life with a partner that he wasn’t even sure was his partner in the first place.

“Our parents are suspicious of us, Jae. You say that us not meeting anyone would solve it but if they don’t see us together-”

“It’s been three months do you think I wouldn’t realise it?” Jaehyun leaned forward and covered his face with both his hands, exhaling before lifting his head up back and looking at the scenery, hoping it’ll put him at ease even the slightest bit.

“You don’t want this. I don’t want this either. I have my own problems you know. I have someone I love.” Soo nodded her head, humming agreeably. “You’re right. We both don’t want this. But our parents do.”

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance, turning his head back to look at her. Soo blinked her eyes rapidly. She’s never seen him this mad before. “I know that way too damn well.” Jaehyun slapped his thighs and stood up, shoving his hands in his pocket and turning around swiftly to Soo.

“I don’t care what you do. You have a higher status than me and therefore you have a higher chance and authority for our parents to listen to you. Tell them I’m sorry but I really don’t want to be tied down to someone I don’t love.”

With that, Jaehyun stomped off, making his way back to the dorm. He immediately plopped himself onto his bed, sighing and he stared up the window. The couldn’t stop thinking about his lover. The fact that he couldn’t explain to her made his heart breal in every way possible.

He jusy wanted to be with her. But it was now his fault that she hates him now. And he’s not sure of what to do. The fact that he had to call off whatever they had couldn’t be anymore painful.

He wanted her with him right now. To have her presence right next to him. His arm wrapped around her as a way to protect her small figure from the world though he knew well enough that she was capable on her own. He wanted to plant light and sweet kisses filled with love all over her face. He wanted her touch of love that could send electric shocks throughout his body. He just missed her so.

“Even though you ain't mine, I promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love

'Cause baby, when push comes to shove.”

It’s been a few days since Jaehyun and I called it quits. And honestly, I was falling apart. I missed him a lot. It felt weird not having him around. It felt like back when he ignored me for three months. Except now the anger has disappeared, and all I craved for was his presence.

“The performance and assessment’s tomorrow. You ready?” Taeyong asked, breathing heavily as he walked to the speaker to stop the music. I squatted down on the floor, hugging my knees to catch my breath before gulping and nodding my head. “I’m surprised we managed to do this in a month despite our professor giving us four.” Taeyong nodded back agreeably.

“Let’s just hope we do well tomorrow then.” Taeyong walked back to me with his hands shoved in his pockets. I eyed him up and down taking the time to admire his outfit, which was simply just a tucked out loose white button under a muted blue waistcoat and black jeans and pointed shoes. The blue waistcoat was just to match his light blue hair that he dyed recently that suited him very well.

“Your outfit is simple, yet so pleasing.” I mumbled, my finger placed under my chin. Taeyong chuckled, taking one step closer to me. For some reason it made my heart race, the space between us got smaller and smaller unintentionally. “It’s probably because of my physique and natural features.”

Taeyong bent down to meet my eye level, tilting his head as he gave his cheeky eye smile that I got used to seeing very quickly. I ruffled his hair and laughed loudly. “Of course it is. You’ll definitely outshine me tomorrow.”

Taeyong slipped a hand around my waist, pulling me closer. This was definitely normal since our choreography included him doing this, but it made my face hot this time. “The purpose of a duet is to help each other shine together. I don’t think I’ll ever be outshining you.” Taeyong commented softlt with a gentl smile.

It was finally time for the performance. Everyone at the hall was seated, murmurs and chatters can be heard all over. Backstage, everyone was rushing to get ready. But I couldn’t help but peek at our professors and dance instructors that were about to grade us from behind the curtains.

“Nervous?” I heard Taeyong’s voice from behind me as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I glanced back before taking in a deep breath. “We’re the fifth to go. Calm your nerves.” This time, he placed his other than on my other shoulder, proceeding to rub his hands up and down slowy and soothingly, which instantly calm me down. “I’m trying.” I whispered.

The two of us waited anxiously backstage as we counted the number of performers going up on stage. Now’s already the forth and we’re up next. Our names got called. Before we headed up on stage, Taeyong held my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine for a short moment before flashing me a smile and letting go, proceeding to walk forward as I followed behind.

The music played and we started to perform. The lights on the audience shined brightly and I could see everyone’s faces. Of course to calm myself down I kept my eyes straight ahead. Everything went as how it should. Taeyong and I danced perfectly in sync as if we were made to dance together. Taeyong had to lift me up for a few counts, holding me by the waist. And one glance to the audience and I instantly saw Jaehyun sitting somewhere in the middle, his eyes looking right at me. I was shocked but I had to continue.

We ended the performance with a deep bow. I smiled widely at the audience, but I avoided Jaehyun’s eyes completely. Taeyong and I walked off stage. “That’s was amazing! You did so well!” Taeyong shouted as he pulled me into a tight hug. I hugged back and laughed, panting heavily as I tried to catch me breath. “You were great too, Taeyong.”

Taeyong pulled away from me. And as we were about to walk to the changing room, I felt a hold on my wrist. A tight one. I turned around, noticing Jaehyun right in front of me. He looked over at Taeyong before me. He didn’t say a word and dragged me away. I glanced back at Taeyong, his worried eyes making me want to release my grip off Jaehyun but I knew I can never since he was way too strong.

“What the hell do you want?!” I shouted when we finally came to a stop at a secluded and somewhat dark corner. “I can’t see you dance with Taeyong. I got jealous.”

My eyes squinted at his words, completely confused and bewildered. My mouth gaped open as I let out a scoff. “Jealous? Why should you be? We aren’t anything anymore. What’s my relationship with Taeyong have anything to do with you?”

“I don’t like seeing you with him, okay? Didn’t you ever think about how I felt when you’re always staying up late with him for practice? Or did you even think about me at all?” I grew quiet, struggling to even form a sentence of what to say.

“I don’t like seeing you with any guy.”

“You aren’t my boyfriend. You don’t have any say in who I hang out with.”

It was now his turn to keep silent, avoiding my eyes completely as he looked elsewhere. “You aren’t mine. But don’t you think we had something between us at all? It drives me nuts whenever I think of you. I had my reasons for avoiding you, okay?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Sorry but I can’t handle any of this right now. I’m way too tired. Let’s talk some other time.”

With that, I walked off, trying to find Taeyong who just came out of the changing room with his outfit hung on his arm while he wore back his loose white tee and sweatpants. “You okay? I got worried.” Taeyong immediately rushed over to me and looked me up and down, concerned as to what happened just now.

“Yeah I am. I’ll go back to campus now. I just need some rest.”

Before taking a step, Taeyong stopped me. “Need a ride?” I shook my head.

“Thanks for the offer, but I much rather be on my own for now. I have too much on my mind.”

“I know we be so complicated

Lovin' you sometime drive me crazy

'Cause I can't have what I want and neither can you.”

I ended up staying late at night, staring off into the ceiling while hugging my cat plushie. And all I thought about was Jaehyun. I could never get him off my mind no matter how hard I tried to force myself to sleep. I could be staying up since I didn’t have classes the next day but my body was too physically tired. Yet my mental state seemed to be wide awake.

The next morning, I stayed in my dorm, pacing back and forth in circles as I figure out what to do. Suddenly, the door opened, making me flinch in shock as I realised it was just Mark. “You look stressed. You nervous about the results?”

“My mind is all over the place, Mark. Jaehyun’s driving me crazy and I just-” I grabbed my head with both my hands, letting out a loud groan and I plopped myself on my bed next to Mark.

“Won’t it be easier to just settle things with him?” I gave Mark and unimpressed look. “We did. We promised to not see each other again.” I let out a dreaded sigh. “But he came up to me yesterday and now all I can think about is him.”

Mark swung an arm around me, clearing his throat. “Then just tell him to back off. Now and forever. I can’t see my friend going crazy because of some frat boy.” I chuckled shaking my head. “He’s not a frat boy.”

“Sure acts like one.”

I hummed, giving a moment to think it over. “How can I meet him today though? He’s working.” Mark raised a brow, facepalming. “You know he has a thing called breaks, right?” Mark deadpanned. And just like that, I made my way to the cafe where Jaehyun supposedly worked the afternoon shift.

I walked in, the bell above the door ringing to signal that someone has entered. I didn’t see Jaehyun brewing the coffee. I walked up to the counter, seeing a familiar face and decided to ask him where Jaehyun was.

“Hey, Jeno?” I called out to him gently, watching pouring his ready made coffee into a small cup. He looked up, instantly smiling brightly when he made eye contact. “Hey! Haven’t seen you for so long! Looking for Jaehyun?” I nodded, gladly thankful that he read my mind.

“He went out somewhere for awhile. He’s coming back soon. Want to wait here while I serve you some caremel frappe?” I exhanged his smile with mine, nodding my head eagerly. “You know me well, Lee Jeno.” I tapped my hand on the counter before walking off, taking my usual seat at the far corner of the cafe that’s out of sight from public eyes. I used to sit here when I would wait for Jaehyun’s shift to end before walking back to campus. It felt weird coming back here after avoiding it for so long.

After a few minutes, Jeno brings me my drink. I thanked him as he backed away and I resumed my waiting. I checked the time on my phone. Thirty minutes have passed and he’s still not here. Each time the bell rang, I instantly lift my head up only to find that it wasn’t Jaehyun.

Heaving a sigh, I leaned forward, my shoulder raising up as I continued to stare at the entrance. Finally, I saw Jaehyun through the window, walking to the door. But... he’s with a girl?

The door opened and Jaehyun walked in, the girl close beside him. She was wearing Jaehyun’s hoodie too. The plain black that he often wears. I kept silent, wanting to see where all this was going. Why was I feeling something? I shouldn’t be... right? I have nothing to do with Jaehyun, let alone his love life. Wait why am I even assuming that they’re together?

Jaehyun went up to the counter. He turned around to look at the girl. They were smiling and laughing together, which made the knots in my stomach tighter and my heart began to ache at the sight. As cliche as it sounds, I muttered a, “That should be me.”

The girl took off his hoodie. She was wearing a shirt under it. It seemed like she wanted to give it back but Jaehyun insisted on her keeping it, continuously shoving the hoodie back and forth till she threw it at him, kissed him on the cheek and ran out the cafe laughing. I frowned. I really didn’t like how this was going.

Jeno went up to Jaehyun, motioning to where I was seated. I instantly looked out the window as if I didn’t even see Jaehyun coming in and was minding my business. I heard his heavy footsteps walking up to me, and he sat down, dragging the chair closer to the table. “You didn’t say you’d be here.”

I turned my head and faced forward to Jaehyun, picking up my drink to take a sip, nodding my head. “I didn’t.”

“Who was she?”

I couldn’t help but ask. I was too eager to know. Too eager for something to confirm my suspicions, closure. “A friend.” Jaehyun said after exhaling sharply.

My lips form a thin line, my brows raising for a moment as I gave a “You sure about that?” expression with a hum. Jaehyun stared at me for a moment. I couldn’t read his face. “She’s just like Taeyong. Someone I’m working with for a project.” He said with simple directness.

Anger started to settle in, the tension between us growing tighter and tighter with each moment of silence in the air. “Your project partner comes waltzing in wearing your hoodie and giving you a kiss on the cheek? Some partner there.” I replied with sarcasm, nodding my head over and over.

Jaehyun cocked a brow, the side of his lips turning up slightly as he leaned forward, so close that our faces were a mere inch away from each other. “Now you’re jealous? That’s cute.” He chuckled lowly.

I blinked my eyes rapidly. Is he really going to do this right now? Despite me blushing slightly at him calling me cute. I couldn’t shake the fact that he was probably trying to get back at me and making me feel how be felt when I was with Taeyong.

“Why can’t I? You were jealous when I was with Taeyong too.” I blurted out, not sure if that was the right thing to say.

“You aren’t my girlfriend, and I’m not your boyfriend. But we can’t see each other with anyone else, or touch anyone else. We can’t have who we want either. Make an inference. Connection, hidden meaning.”

“Don’t bring the method to answering History questions into this.” I couldn’t help but laugh softly at his attempt to joke. I knew very well right now wasn’t the time, but I just missed it.

“Stress high when the trust low

Bad vibes, where'd the fun go?

Try to open up and love more.”

“Don’t you miss it?” Jaehyun asked, his face getting soft and gentle. He reached his hand out to mine, holding my finger with a light touch. Our eyes went down in unison, staring as our hands fit perfectly together.

“We’re complicated, indeed. We aren’t sure of who we are. And we don’t even know the reason for that. But doesn’t it all come down to whether we love each other...?” Jaehyun lowered his voice to a whisper, pur noses were now touching as I gulped, closing my eyes for a moment as I inhaled his naturally strong scent that not even his perfume could mask.

“I guess...” I started, breathing heavily. “I guess we’re just scared. I don’t know about you, but I can somewhat admit that I’m scared.”

“It’s been years, Jaehyun. Years since we’ve showed affection for each other yet we never seemed to get anywhere. But I liked it nonetheless. Despite the fact that we were just... stagnant.” I smacked my lips. “Or not perhaps I’d call it going back and forth.”

At that moment, I thought of us. Jaehyun and I. Years ago. When we first started. I met him here, at the cafe. I got addicted to him from first sight and I’d make it a mental note to visit him everyday and demand that only he should make and serve my orders. That’s how we grew close. Not on campus, but out. We kept our relationship like a little secret. But that was only for the fun of it; for excitement and thrill. I liked that about us. Being alone and only having each other. Turning back time was what I always wished I could do.

“I love you, _____. I missed us. When we were just happy. I guess this all started when I ignored you. I’m sorry for that. And you know I mean it.” Jaehyun couldn’t keep his eyes on me. He constantly looked down or avoided my gaze. He bit his lip intensely, as if trying to hold back tears.

“But if you would let me, I’ll explain it over dinner.” Jaehyun gulped, breathing in as his chest puffed up. I wasn’t quite sure of what to make of this. But in the end, my main goal was to settle this, on a good note. Whether I’d be with Jaehyun in the end or not. I just needed closure.

“Sure.”

Jaehyun offered to meet me at a high end restaurant. Somewhere I’ve never been in years since I was just like any regular college student. Poor.

I didn’t know what to wear. And I guess my outfit seemed to lower itself a lot when I stepped into the restaurant. I glazed my eyes over the place, spotting Jaehyun at the far end wearing his usual all black shirt, jeans, and shoes. A combination that never failed to cup his masculine body perfectly.

“You didn’t have to take me to somewhere this expensive.” I said, sitting down. Jaehyun smiled softly in greeting. “It’s only slightly above average.” He commented.

We ordered our food. It was taking quite awhile to come. “Um.. I suppose I should be giving that um explanation to you now.” Jaehyun spoke up, his hands on the table with his fingers interlocking with each other. I nodded my head, pushing the glass of iced water that was served to us earlier on, bringing it in front of me and leaning forward to take a sip.

“My parents want me and Soo, the girl you saw at the cafe to get together. I honestly didn’t even know why. And I never cared either.” Jaehyun lowered his head, fidgeting his fingers. “And just so you know, I never had feelings for Soo. She has someone else. The two of us agreed that we’d still maintain our private lifes and not let it interfere us.”

I bit my lower lip. I could tell he was telling the truth, that he was being sincere. It made my heart soften. But I didn’t want to show it. I didn’t want to seem easy and to just fall for him all over again just from a simple explanation.

“Are you going to do anything to fight back against your parents about it?” I asked, not wanting to say silent throughout.

“I simply told Soo to do something about it since she would have more influence on them than me.” Jaehyun leaned in, again his hand creept up on mine. He held my hand in his, bringing it up slowly and planting a light kiss on my fingertips. A gesture that I only ever knew would feel this amazing because its him. He was the only person I’ve met to have such a gentlemanly feature.

“Can we slowly... get back to how we were? I know it’s my fault. I know you won’t forgive me immediately. Do whatever you want with me. Whatever decision you choose, I’ll just have to accept it.” Jaehyun whispered, his voice growing quiet with each word as he looked down to my hand and caressed it with his thumb. I could still feel his kiss lingering on the tips of my fingers.

I brought my hand up to his chin, lifting his head up and eyes off the table, forcing him to look me in the eye. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, letting my lips stay there for a long moment before pulling away. I could see Jaehyun smiling slightly at my touch. He thought he could cover it up with a cough, making me giggle softly.

“I’m not forgiving you just yet. But I do admit that I missed how we were two years back.”

[cloudystevie]

𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔 ღ

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒖𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅: 𝒎𝒂𝒚 24 / 2021

ღ 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 / 𝒔𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 ↬ 𝒄𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 ↫

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

headcannons

➸ dating and being rdj’s daughter

➸ your first disney date

➸ dropping relationship hints on social media

➸ ariana grande concert

➸ breeding kink ღ

➸ accidentally leaking an intimate video of you ღ

➸ age gap ღ

➸ secretly dating and accidentally walking into his live interview

➸ you surprise him on jimmy fallon

➸ desi! reader, comfort

➸ prompts: leaning into their side & hug from behind

➸ domestic night

➸ lazy rainy day

➸ you stay the night for the first time

➸ beach date

➸ chris has anxiety

➸ riding his face for the first time ღ

➸ first christmas with his family

➸ professor! chris ღ

➸ mean dom chris ღ

➸ filth about his chain ღ 

➸ thigh riding while his family is downstairs ღ

➸ thanking sugar daddy chris for your new bracelet ღ

➸ mean daddy! chris punishing bratty reader ღ

degradation kink ღ

blurbs 

➸ best friends to lovers ღ

➸ prompt 49

➸ prompt 59 ღ

➸ prompts 2 & 5 ღ

➸ prompts 2 & 15 ღ

➸ prompt 21

➸ prompts 9 & 19

[moonlilith]

POV

↬ Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x reader

↬ Timeline: Timeskip

↬ Genre: Fluff ☁️

↬ Wordcount: 1,282

↬ AN: this is all for your skiyoomi’s simp (also me?) and is this self-indulge? Absolutely. Did I write this fic instead of writing my assignments? Absolutely, I wrote a short iwaoi for Twitter HQ angst week and this one. Do I want to baby kiyoomi? Absolutely. Am I obssesd over his moles? Absolutely as someone who has two moles on their nose. Is this a song fic? Absolutely so listen to POV by Ariana Grande Yuh!

       You tugged your mask that covered half your face opened, showing your face to the man standing between you and your beloved. He smiled when he saw your face, saying that the boys will be done in a few minutes more and greeted you with a warm smile. You nodded happily, tugging the mask open, one hand tight with a bottle of hand sanitizer.  

Just as you entered the familiar gym where the MSBY’s boys were at, Meian catches your sight first, running towards you having enough of whatever was going on with the loud snickers and growling. “Y/n!! You came at the right time; you must save Kiyoomi from murdering ‘Tsumu in cold blood.” He stifled a giggle as your expression didn’t even change.

Atsumu and Kiyoomi bickering everytime was a normal occurrence to you so you weren't that concerned at all. “AH!! Y/N-CHAN!!” Atsumu was the first one who spotted you first as he ran towards you in full speed, making you slightly panicked causing you to run sideways as fast as you could making you bump more into Meian who managed to catch you before you fell.  

    “Tsumu-chan, you scared them!” You heard Bokuto whined at Atsumu for you. You laughed as you thanked Meian and skipped ahead to where your 6 years and counting boyfriend stood. You watched silently as he just stared at you and you knew there was something amiss about him. “Go, take a shower, I’ll be waiting here.” You softly said to him and he nodded but his pinky was lingering on yours longer than usual.  

He went first and you turned towards Hinata who had a curt smile on his face, knowing that you’ll ask him. “What ticked him off?” He nervously glanced at Atsumu but the smile was still plastered on his face. You sighed thanking him before urging him to the showers, keeping your gaze on Atsumu who was laughing with Bokuto. It must have been something that Atsumu questioned and had said that made Kiyoomi like that.  

You stared at the rearview mirror, your eyes catching Kiyoomi’s as he drives in silent with the radio accompanied you guys on your journey back home. “How was your day?” Your eyes glistened, usually after telling him how your days went, he would tell you, his but today he just kept to himself and it raised your suspicion even more when one of his hands were on your thighs. It’s not like you minded his hand on your body, but it was just unusual for you.  

He sat there eating his dinner in silence as you rambled on about your day and things that seemed interseting. Kiyoomi wasn’t much of a talker but this volume of silence is enough for you to know that he was overthinking somethings. Was it something about volleyball? You wondered silently but shook your head since you knew Kiyoomi is confident in his abilities and he isn't one to be swallowed in his weaknesses and instead focus on improving himself.  

“You know that I love you right?” He had said suddenly while you were doing the dishes that you almost dropped the mug that was in your hands. You stiffled a laughter, “Of course Oomi and I love you too.” You said without looking back at him standing near the kitchen island. “Y/n...” He called out to you again, but you only hummed in responses and thought nothing of it until you felt a hand sneaked to your waist, holding you tight. “I was afraid that you didn’t know.” He mumbled inaudibly but you managed to catch that.  

    You smile to yourself and realised. ‘Ah, Atsumu must have said something that made him doubt himself in regard to your relationship.’ Ofcourse you know how much Kiyoomi loves you. You’ve been with him since high school and you are definitely aware of his language of love. You just wished that Kiyoomi can see in your point of view of how happy he made you. If there was a way for you to show your pov of his love to you, you would.

“Oh, Oomi” You softly cooed at him, taking his hand in yours as you led him to your vanity mirror. You let him sit at the stool where you usual sat when you get ready every morning. “What do you see Oomi?” One of your hands was on shoulders while the other was caressing his soft curls. He relaxed more under your touch, but his uncertainties only grew larger as both of you stared back at your reflection in the mirror.  

“Us?” He answered without much thought. “And look at my expression?” You asked again, smiling in the mirror as wide as you can to show him, hoping that he’ll get your message. “You’re smiling?” There were uncertainties in his voice, and you hated that. You hated that he doubts himself when it comes to loving you.  

“Yeah, I’m smiling." Your hand sneaked to tilt his head upwards to face you as you planted a soft kiss on his forehead once, “You want to know why I’m smiling?” He only hummed in response as your lips went towards the two moles kissing it softly as he closed his eyes, “Cause I’m with you.”  

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough for Kiyoomi to lose his doubts. He kept thinking that you stayed with him just because you’ve become comfortable or was it that you had found comfort in his financial situation. He quickly shut out each ugly thought. He shouldn’t doubt you when you never really did anything for him to doubt for.  

    “Oomi!” You called out to him as he was more or else staring at the television rather than watching the news. You quickly switched the tv to the radio, as you held out your hands to him. He begrudgingly wondered what you were doing but still took your hand anyway. You positioned both his hand on your waist as yours went to his shoulders, swaying him from side to side, letting the music occupy the whole room.

“Tell me the things you love about me?” You whispered softly to him, your head resting on his chest but still slow dancing with him. “I think that it’s cool that somehow, you are fragile like glass. For that I can see through you.” He answered quizzically but you still urge him to continue. “More?” He let out incoherent noises of disapproving but still did as you said anyway.  

“Was that the wrong answer? Should I be more poetic?” He said but continued anyway, “I love that you somehow touch my soul? Like...this is embarrassing. You are not recording this or anything right?” You shook your head no, “Mm feeling down, I don’t like myself.” You lied. He sighs, “For you, I guess I’ll be an embarrassment. Like you are willing to permeate my ego and pride.”

“I love your mouth?” He pauses, “It somehow just says things that we both are afraid to say.” He continued, “I want you to love yourself like I love every inch of you. From my point of view, you’re perfect.” He ended it with a kiss on top of your head, resting them on yours.  

“See, Oomi.” You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, “I want you to see things from my point of view too. I want you to know that you always make me feel love, and never once had I doubted whether you truly love me or not. So, see your love from my point of view too.” You smiled as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you. “Thank you,” He smiled.

[winetae]

⇾ what you did last summer (m).

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut, trophy wife!au

⇁ slowburn, dom!yoongi, age difference, consensual non-monogamy, power imbalance, semi-public sex, objectification, face-fucking, derogatory language and possessive behavior during sex, creampie, cum marking, unsafe sex, everyone is kind of slutty, not as wildt as warnings may imply 

⇁ unnecessarily long for a pwp. 33.8k. phew.

. . .

Yoongi was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards to buy ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest ride for a spin without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function. 

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

↳ alternatively titled; How to Get Dick - an autobiography written by (you) 

author’s note | while this fic does contain a semblance of plot, the focus is more on characterization which i understand can make for a boring read. also note that i have done (0) research and despite having owned a pool, still to this day do not know how to clean one. 

written for 1 of my closest friends @tayegi as the most belated bday gift to have ever been gifted. ily :( ty for having passionate naruto-related discussions w/ me at 6am. u r the real deal ! 

(!) pls read the warnings. uncomfortable subject matter if delved in too deeply. tbh i didn’t know how to tag. also yoongi is older in this fic - an age gap is there and implied although none of the characters’ ages are specified. 

song inspo: needy - ariana grande. that’s all! enjoy! hopefully! /cries

.

.

{THURSDAY. 10:23 am.}

.

“Hi, um, I’m Jungkook.”

The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling all sorts of self-conscious.

In stark contrast to his casual appearance, you looked neatly put together, not a strand of hair out of place. His well worn jeans and simple white tee looked terribly shabby in comparison to the tailored cream colored dress that hugged your figure. Jungkook didn’t need to check the original price tag or the label stitched onto the fabric to know that your outfit was Expensive (with a capital E for emphasis).

Doubt made his stomach turn. Had there been a dress code stated somewhere in the job description? Given Jungkook’s disposition, it didn’t seem very likely that he had overlooked such a crucial detail. He was the type to obsess over the smallest details, always double-checking everything before giving the go ahead.

Yet despite all of the precautions he was certain he had taken, Jungkook was unable to shake off the feeling of being disgustingly underdressed.

Worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach. His palms began to sweat as his gaze flitted back and forth between the pale pink freshwater pearls hanging off your neck and the clothes he had haphazardly thrown on this morning.

Well at least they were ironed, he mused. It was but a small consolation—the denim was faded from one wash too many and the frayed holes near his kneecaps made his jeans look tattered. Had he known the neighborhood would be this posh, he would have chosen his outfit with greater care. Right now he regretted not putting in more effort, if only to blend in with his surroundings. As he was now, he looked distinctly out of place. Almost as ridiculous as Samsung’s CEO taking a leisurely stroll through the downtown dollar store.

Jungkook half-expected you to take one glance at him, upturn your nose and slam the polished oak door in his face. In his panicked state, a number of embarrassing scenarios reeled through his mind, each one filling him with nauseating dread.

It was your expectant expression that snapped him out of his daze. He slowly blinked back into focus, realizing he had paused for a few seconds too long, and he cleared his throat.

A smile stretched across his face, not quite of the genuine kind. He squared his shoulders for good measure, doing his best to conceal the stress shaking up his insides.

“My name is Jeon Jungkook. I spoke to Mr. Min on the phone yesterday. I was expected to arrive at ten thirty?” His voice rose a little at the end, uncertain. It hadn’t been meant to be phrased as a question but his nerves made his voice quiver.

“Ah, yes, of course. And right on time, too.” Jungkook had made sure of it; he despised running late. “Nice to meet you, I’m ______,” you greeted, voice as smooth as velvet.

He tried not to openly stare because wow. Your blinding smile looked straight out of a Colgate advertisement, a tad too white to be completely natural.

Once again, you had him feeling self-conscious and all too aware of his own, less than perfect appearance. Whether it was the anxiety or the scorching heat beating down his back—or an unpleasant mix of both—a film of perspiration formed over his skin, leaving him sticky and uncomfortable.

Jungkook discreetly wiped off his palms against his denim clad thighs before taking your outstretched hand in his.

Despite your small size, your grip was surprisingly firm. If you noticed how abnormally clammy his hand was, you refrained from commentary. Instead, you held the door open a bit wider and ushered him inside the imposing abode.

“You can follow me. I’ll show you around to the back.”

He gave a little jerky nod and let you take the lead. For a moment, all he could hear was the nervous beat of his heart and the steady click-clack of your heels against the immaculate white floor tiles.

Jungkook blushed, quickly turning his head the moment he caught himself staring at your swaying hips. He wet his lips, his eyes darting around for any kind of distraction.

Inwardly, he scolded himself as he pinched the bit of flesh between his thumb and index finger.

Workplace crushes were never a good idea. Wasn’t it, like, written down in the code of conduct or something? It didn’t even have to be a rule. It was just common sense.

And Jungkook had no plans to fuck this job up. Summer jobs that paid this kind of money were scarce and hard to find. For someone like him who needed the money desperately, this job was a godsend, one that he would never dare pass up.

From the moment he had set foot onto Mr. Min’s property, Jungkook had realized that this wouldn’t be anything like his other part-time jobs that had consisted of repainting his neighbor’s fence and watering Mrs. Anderson’s flowers whenever she left town to visit her son. But this? This wouldn’t be just another pool cleaning job, that was for sure.

For one, the mansion, like every house in the vicinity, reeked of money. In his eyes, they all seemed to be competing against each other, with ridiculous, Disneyland-esque shaped hedges and wide, winding driveways capable of fitting several imported cars at a time. On the drive over, Jungkook had even spotted a marble fountain planted in the middle of someone’s front yard, clear water spouting out of a cupid’s arrow. He half expected peacocks and other exotic animals to parade across their lawns like some kind of zoo.

He could only assume that most of these ostentatious properties were owned by business tycoons or AAA-list celebrities. He cast a glance around as he tried to guess which of the two categories his employer belonged to.

To his dismay, there was nothing that particularly stood out to him. In all honesty it was…a little underwhelming. Jungkook had been expecting something jaw dropping in its obnoxiousness but he could spot no cupid fountains or gigantic aquariums built in the wall or pet tigers in gilded cages.

Mr. Min, whoever he was, seemed to favor subtlety. There were no life-sized cutouts of his person, no trophy collection showing off his achievements. The walls were painted an off-white, only decorated by the occasional painting. There were no family portraits, no personal belongings indicating that a person actually lived and breathed in this house. If he hadn’t known beforehand, Jungkook would have believed himself to be in some fancy hotel, not a home.

But the lack of personal ornaments did nothing to quell Jungkook’s growing curiosity. Questions whizzed through his brain. Was his employer a successful plastic surgeon? The living space somewhat reminded him of his dentist’s waiting room. Very clinical and clean. Then again, there was really no telling who he was working for. Maybe they were one of those Wolf of Wall Street stock brokers that owned dozens of unused vacation homes. Or, perhaps, Mr. Min happened to be one of those top-of-the-food-chain entertainment producers… His name did sound awfully familiar for some reason he couldn’t—

Jungkook hadn’t even realized his footsteps had slowed down, too caught up in his thoughts.

“You enjoy art?” The sound of your voice roused him from his ruminations. He jumped, head snapping in your direction so fast his neck throbbed.

Your head was tilted in what seemed to be—interest? The angle drew attention to the slope of your neck and for a few short seconds, Jungkook freaked out, wondering if it was normal to find the delicate curve of someone’s neck attractive. Was that too weird? Luckily he hadn’t been outright staring but he could still feel the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment.

A beat passed as he finally registered your question. Did he like—? Oh. Somewhat belatedly, he realized that you had been talking about the work of art hung up on the far right wall. He must have been staring at it earlier without noticing. Was it a painting? A sculpture? He scratched his neck, not really knowing how to identify it. He couldn’t tell what it was supposed to represent, either, no matter how long he examined it.

“Not particularly... I mean,” he quickly backtracked, suddenly worried this was some kind of test. “I like it, I just don’t know much about it.”

It was easier to settle for honesty. Lying had never been his strongest suit. Besides, as much as he’d like to impress you, he had no actual knowledge to show off. And he’d rather be ignorant than a liar. Knowledge—well, he could always catch up on and learn what he didn’t know. Trust, however, was hard to earn back when lost.

“I find certain pieces nice to look at but my appreciation for art is rather superficial.”

Although you covered it well, he could tell you were slightly put off by his answer, almost as if you had been expecting something else. Jungkook worried his bottom lip, nervous he had said the wrong thing.

“I see...” Your eyes slid over to the artwork. “Beauty is subjective, isn’t it? Art is supposed to adhere to those rules, too. Some people will find this pretty, some won’t. And yet... It’s not that simple, either. Who assigns value to a piece? The artist or the consumer? I wonder about that sometimes.”

Jungkook nodded, unsure what else to say. You didn’t seem to mind the lack of commentary, continuing on, “I think about it a lot, actually. How do you define someone’s worth?”

Your expression shifted into something indecipherable, gaze slightly glassy, mind elsewhere. Remembering yourself, you covered it up with a polite smile.

“That there is a Rudolf Stingel piece, worth just a little over 5 million. It’s one of my favorites.”

He covered his shock with a loud cough that sounded more like a choke.

“Five million?” Disbelief colored his tone. Five million. Holy shit. “I-Is Mr. Min an art collector?”

Bitterly, Jungkook thought about how he could spend the rest of his life cleaning pools and never make enough to buy a scrap of metal signed Stingel. Not that he wanted to own one. It was just... The idea of being rich enough to spend millions on junk was—

He swallowed, forcing the feeling down. He tried very hard not to think about how one piece of metal could pay for the entirety of his tuition and then some. If he did, he’d likely spiral into depression. Being a broke college student sucked.

“You could say that...”

You shrugged, half smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It wasn’t like the blinding, 100-watt beam you had flashed his way the moment the front door had swung open. This version was less overwhelming, but certainly no less potent. The slow curl of your lips made it easier to admire the defined features of your face. Jungkook swallowed.

Beauty was subjective? Maybe so. Jungkook had no taste for the two-dimensional. He wouldn’t be able to discern a Monet from a Picasso if asked. But something about you had him inclined to change his mind. 

Jungkook had seen beautiful women parade before him—but none like you. Your beauty was eerie—pretty in an almost unnatural way. You looked like a painting brought to life. There was something soft and sharp about your traits, like the definition of a marble statue and the roundness of a paintbrush stroking a canvas all in one. 

“—He does buy a lot of it.”

“I see...” If Mr. Min had objects worth 5 million casually displayed in plain sight, he had to be the type of individual Jungkook would never cross paths with in his everyday life. They belonged to two different worlds, their orbits never meant to cross paths.

“Come on.” You smiled kindly, yanking him out of his stupor. “I still have to show you the pool.”

Dutifully, he followed after you, his steps measured and careful. Now was not the time to go breaking million dollar vases from the Qing dynasty or whatever other valuable pieces Mr. Min had acquired over the years. He sure as hell didn’t have five million in his bank account around to spend on damages. The mere possibility of getting fired on the first day, 5 million in debt, made his skin crawl unpleasantly. He shuddered.

“It’s a bit cold in here,” you apologized once you noticed him rubbing his arms. Goosebumps had raised on his skin. “Should I turn the AC off?”

“I’m fine! Really. Please don’t worry. I’ll be working outside, anyway. Unless… Is it, uh, an indoor pool?” He hadn’t considered that a possibility until now. Maybe there were even multiple pools to clean.

“No, no, the pool’s outside.” You continued your explanation as you led him through the conservatory. The glass ceiling allowed for natural sunlight to filter through, enhancing the aesthetic appeal of the room. Out of all the rooms he had walked through so far, this one seemed like the most inviting.  “You can see it from here. See? Just through here. There’s no justifiable need for an indoor pool since the one we have is heated.”

Jungkook picked up on the strange use of pronoun—we—but didn’t question it. His thoughts were all jumbled up, anxiety making him unable to focus on one topic for too long. “Although, I suppose you could say there isn’t much need for this one, either. It rarely gets used… Honestly, I can’t remember the last time Yoongi went for a swim. It’s almost a waste.”

It took him several seconds for him to realize you were referring to Mr. Min. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how long you had worked under Mr. Min to be able to address him by his first name. Or maybe his boss was lax about these kind of things? Jungkook somehow doubted it. The man he had on the phone last night hadn’t given off that impression at all.

“Is Mr. Min not home often?” he asked tentatively, hoping his interest wasn’t blatant. Jungkook wasn’t sure if his questions were appropriate or not but thankfully you didn’t seem to mind his curiosity. “Will I meet him today?”

“He should be stopping by later for lunch...” Your voice trailed off before you remembered his first question. “But, no. He spends most of his time locked up in his office, so I doubt you’ll see him very often.”

You said this as you turned your face away. Eyes downcast, you failed to notice when Jungkook caught your grimace from the glass door’s reflection. Jungkook diverted his gaze, somehow feeling like he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Ah, here we are.” You slid the glass door open and a gust of warm air blew in his face.

Jungkook stepped out onto the deck, one of his hands raised to block his view from the sun. The garden was in full bloom, a colorful arrangement of hydrangeas, astilbe and daylilies lining the stone pathway that wound down to the gazebo and the pool. A thick, sweet scent hung heavy in the air, so strong it made his nose twitch.

He followed you down the patio, watching in fascination as you walked atop of uneven stone steps with expertise despite the thinness and tallness of your heels.

“I’ll have to get another key double made for the shed, I forgot to get another one done. We keep all the cleaning equipment in here. Next time you come, you can come straight back here after someone’s buzzed you in.”

Jungkook nodded as you showed him where to check the water circulation.

“Do you have any questions? Hm, I think I covered everything. Although I’m sure there’ll be things I’ll need to tell you along the way because I tend to be forgetful.”

It occurred to him that he didn’t know what kind of job you occupied. The question balanced on the tip of his tongue. Would it be considered rude to ask? He swallowed it back down after failing to muster the courage to ask.

“Hm?” You made an inquisitive sound, head tilting slightly. “What is it? You can ask me anything.”

“So, uh, have you worked here long? Do you like it here?”

“Worked here…? Oh. Oh!” Your look of surprise morphed into one of amusement. The corners of your mouth pressed down together in an effort to hold back a laugh.

Jungkook grew uneasy. Somehow, without needing an explanation, he knew he had said the wrong thing.

“I don’t work here. Well. I suppose being a housewife is an occupation in itself, so I guess… Almost a year?” You fiddled with the ring on your index finger, the encrusted diamonds sparkling as the facets reflected the sunlight. “It’s our anniversary on the twentieth. So, yeah, almost a year.”

Jungkook stared at it without comprehending. It was like every cog in his brain had screeched to an abrupt halt.

“Housewife…?” Jungkook’s mouth fell open as he put two and two together. His brain had begun to catch up but it was still buffering like some early 2000 computer that was unable to process large amounts of information without crashing. “You’re—but you’re so young—? Not that that’s a reason for—I thought, I mean, I shouldn’t have—”

Stop talking. Stop. Talking.

“Sorry. For, you know. Assuming. It was wrong of me. Um.” He knew he should stop talking. He knew it and yet— “H-happy anniversary?”

His ears burned with mortification. If the ground could split open and swallow him whole, now would be a fantastic time for it to do so. He had always had shit brain-to-mouth filter but this was… Fuck. He wanted to bang his head against a wall but refrained from doing so, not ready to risk losing more brain cells.

You burst out into laughter, your shoulders shaking from the force of it.

“The look on your face,” you snickered, finally pulling yourself together. “I don’t usually get that kind of reaction. People are usually a lot less... Well. It doesn’t really matter what they’re like. They don’t matter.”

Jungkook hastily apologized again, fearing he had vexed you.

God, you probably thought he was the world’s biggest dumbass. He sure felt like one.

In his defense, your marital status hadn’t been a painfully obvious fact. Jungkook hadn’t even considered the possibility that Mr. Min was a married man. The house he had walked through earlier had lacked convivial warmth, giving the impression of vacancy. There were no wedding pictures framed on the mantle or any other piece of evidence of a lover.

Perhaps it was the age that had further thrown him off—you couldn’t be that much older than him. Maybe two years older? Five, at the most? The deep voice he had heard over the phone last night had given off the impression that Mr. Min was eons older. In Jungkook’s mind, he pictured a man with a balding head, fine lines near his eyes. Maybe Jungkook had been completely off from the start. But then again, Mr. Min couldn’t possibly be that young, either.

He did some quick mental math, trying to calculate and estimate how young Mr. Min could be. Sure, he had seen movies depicting extremely young and successful CEO’s but the real world worked differently. Mr. Min had to be in his thirties…at the earliest.

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved his concerns away with a flick of your wrist. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Trust me…I’m really good at knowing when someone’s being intentionally insulting.”

The last part was said carelessly, like the words hadn’t actually meant to be voiced aloud. His brows scrunched up in confusion; try as he might, he didn’t understand what you meant.

“I’m really sorry,” he squeaked out, his ears still uncomfortably hot. He wiped his brow with the back of hand. 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not something that bothers me.”

Jungkook only allowed himself to relax when he caught sight of the easygoing smile gracing your lips. “Well then, I think I covered about everything. If you don’t have anything else you need explained, I’ll let you at it. Why don’t I head on inside and get you some refreshments? It’s so hot out today—I wouldn’t want you to get a heatstroke.”

“That’ll be great.” Jungkook nodded in thanks. Now that you mentioned it, his mouth felt unbearably parched. He made a mental note to bring a water bottle for next time.

“Want anything in particular? I think we have just about everything stocked up in the fridge. Juice, sparkling water, cola...?”

“Water sounds perfect, thank you.”

Jungkook tried not to stare when you turned on your heels and walked away. He really did. Except it was hard not to notice how well the dress you wore flattered your figure, emphasizing the curves of your body in all the right places.

It was a futile battle; his eyes refused to cooperate with his internal demands. Honest to God, he tried really hard not to look but your legs looked fa—

He shook his head as if the action would somehow help him clear his thoughts. Get a fucking grip! his inner voice of reason yelled at him.

You were married.

To his boss.

He let that sink in. Or tried to. Jungkook didn’t need to have an IQ of 155 to know that having the hots for the woman married to his boss would ultimately result in disaster. Nothing good would ever come out of it. Why would you even consider looking at other men? Only a dumbass would think he stood a chance. Your husband probably provided everything you needed and more.

But what should have been sufficient incentive to put an end to his cru—whatever the hell it was—wasn’t doing jack shit. The only resounding thought in his mind right then was a constant loop of I’m so fuuucked. Because if there was one thing Jungkook was good at, it was spotting a losing battle when he saw one. But one thing he was bad at? Abandoning a sinking ship.

.

Back in the kitchen, you were feeling similarly distressed.

The corners of your mouth downturned into a frown as your eyes raked over the familiar penmanship.

Don’t wait up for me tonight.

You peeled the post-it note off the fridge, checking the back of the yellow paper to make sure you hadn’t overlooked any words he might have tacked on as an afterthought. Foolishly, your heart hoped to find any semblance of an apology—anything that would prove that somewhere behind his impassive mask he still loved you.

It was, unsurprisingly, blank.

Admittedly, your husband was a man of few words. He had never been known for flowery speeches, preferring to keep it curt and to the point. Efficiency, he called it.

Realistically, you should have known Yoongi wouldn’t have been able to spend the day with you. More often than not last minute work emergencies called him into office, interrupting whatever plans you had made for that day. This wasn’t outside the norm. Yoongi’s work came first and foremost. You had never deluded yourself into thinking otherwise and had never resented him for it, either.

Still...you remembered a time when he had put in more effort than a half-assed, scribbled note. Before he had tied the knot, Yoongi had been more attentive and thoughtful. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t wake up to the smell of fresh flowers, hand-picked and arranged in a crystal vase by your bedside. He never failed to call during the day between board meetings to check up on you and always made sure to make up for his absences one way or another.

Being with Yoongi came with its set of disclaimers and downsides, but like any worthwhile relationship, you had been willing to overlook these hardships. It wasn’t difficult to, not when Yoongi always showered you with prettily wrapped up gifts and hot mouthed kisses, erasing any doubts that sprouted within you. 

Gradually, all that had changed. There were no more flowers, no more impromptu calls, no more candlelit dinners.

Whatever love that had previously existed was nowhere to be found. The notes he left around the house had become sparse and dismissive. You looked back down at his message and held back a scoff. The paper creased between your fingers and you had half a mind to ball it up and throw it away, along with the frustration simmering under the surface of your skin.

It was impossible to pinpoint the exact moment change had happened but somewhere down the line, the affection that used to gleam in his eyes had melted away, leaving behind a stony face devoid of warmth. You could imagine his face as he had written the note, features smoothed over into the same inscrutable look he reserved for his business clients.

“Guess it’s just going to be me and Euna today.” You glanced at your watch, the steel heavy around your delicate wrist, and desperately attempted to refocus your attention.

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly but you forced the nauseating feeling down with a forced out sigh. 

Everything was fine. Besides, life went on and it wouldn’t wait for you to get your feelings under wraps.

You had been looking forward to having brunch with your sister and husband, but. Things happened. It was nothing to be upset about. You’d get over it after stuffing your face with a croissant or two.

When you came back with refreshments, Jungkook could tell something was wrong. He could see it by the hunch in your shoulders, the straight line of your mouth.

“Change of plans.” You set the sterling silver tray down with a thunk. The glass pitcher’s content sloshed around, threatening to spill over. He noticed there were bits of cut up—cucumbers?—floating around in the water. Weird. He wondered if it was considered rude to pick them out.

When he looked back at you, all of his inner ramblings ceased. Even though he didn’t know you well—or at all, really—worry still niggled at his heart. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened in the last ten minutes, but the look on your face was cause for concern. He just...didn’t know if it was his place to ask.

You took a glance at your wristwatch unaware of his silent predicament.

“You’ll get to meet Yoongi some other time, hopefully. I thought I might get to introduce the two of you today when he stopped by for lunch, but it’s work related business and you know how that is.”

Jungkook nodded, knowing better than to speak. You smiled and shrugged, but he could detect an undercurrent of frustration. The smile looked different than the one you had on when you had doubled over in laughter—this one was a little strained at the corners, too wide to be completely genuine.

“Sorry to leave you here like this. I know it’s your first day.” You breathed out a sigh, shoulders drooping. “But I’m meeting my sister soon and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“’s cool. I’ve cleaned pools before, I should be able to handle myself fine.”

“Oh, and if you want a refill, just head on inside and ask June. She’ll get you whatever you like. She’s cleaning the upper floor right now, but she’ll be in the kitchen later. She’s a real gem, I bet you’ll like her.”

“Thanks—for this and everything else.” Jungkook’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he sent you a smile. “I’ll look forward to meeting your husband some other time.”

“It will be his pleasure,” you said, not realizing how spot on your statement would turn out to be.

.

.

In hindsight, maybe you should’ve cancelled your outing altogether and stayed home—if only to spare you from the embarrassment brought on by your sister’s sudden exclamation.

“What do you mean he doesn’t want to have sex?!” Euna’s voice rose in incredulity.

It was louder than what etiquette dictated as appropriate, and you had to hide your flinch behind a strained smile. You felt eyes bore into you from all sides as people swiveled around to stare in your direction.

An elderly lady dressed head to toe in Chanel tweed snickered into her napkin after giving you a once-over.

“Will you. Keep. It. Down.” You reclined back on your chair, your shoulders hunching in on themselves defensively. “We’re in public, Euna. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer it if everyone here wasn’t up to date with my sad and pitiful sex life, because that’s really the last thing I need right now, thanks.”

“Oh no.” Euna dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin, deathly serious. “We’re talking about this now. I know you. You haven’t told anyone else about this. Not that I blame you, honestly. Your friends are all attention craving socialites. And it’s not like you’d ever go tell Mom about this. Not when she’s expecting you to pop a baby out soon. She’d probably find a way to lock you and Yoongi up in some room until you conceive her first grandkid.”

“Can we not talk about babies right now? Or Mom.” You repressed a shudder because fuck. That was another problem altogether—one that you were not equipped to handle at this very moment.

“Fine,” she agreed easily. “Talk to me about your dick problems instead, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

Your attempt at nonchalance was weak at best. In front of you, the porcelain plate, stacked high with delicious French and Danish pastries, remained practically untouched. Usually by now half of them would have been devoured, down to the very last crumb. If that wasn’t an indicator that something was wrong then what was?

“There’s literally nothing to talk about. We haven’t had sex in weeks. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Weeks?!” Her glossy lips parted in shock. The emphasis on the plural form made you wince. As if you needed the reminder. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” you said glumly, allowing a frown to draw on your features. As much as you liked to pretend you were fine with your husband’s increasingly distant behavior, it was impossible to keep up the pretense in front of your sister. She had a way of extracting the truth from you—even if it was a truth you were reluctant to face.

“Do you think... Um.” There was a slight pause as Euna gathered her thoughts, still trying to get over the shock of your confession. She lowered her voice to a whisper, perhaps finally realizing that the couple seated next to you were doing a piss poor job at eavesdropping. “D’you think he might be...cheating on you?”

Your rebuttal came out immediately, without a single trace of hesitation, “No way.”

“Are you sure?”

Your hardened expression did nothing to deter her from pressing the issue. “I mean, it’s not too far-fetched to imagine him having a sizzling office romance with a coworker. Or maybe there’s a rival executive he could be sticking his dick in to seal a—”

“No. Yoongi’s not. He’s not like that.” You shook your head, trying to clear your vision from the offensive images her words had conjured up. “He’s just been busy and stressed with work, that’s all. There’s a big merger happening soon and there are still a lot of things under negotiation right now so he has a lot going on.”

“Well what about a blowjob? No? Not even an under the desk handjob?”

Her Alexander Wang silk blouse wrinkled under her crossed her arms. The look of betrayal painted on her face made it seem like you had offended her on a personal level. Honestly you weren’t sure why she was getting so worked up over this. It wasn’t her dick getting neglected. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had a guy refuse a good ol’ dick sucking.”

“Well good for you.” Your voice lacked sincerity, dry as the desert.

“And I’m 90% sure all the pent up cum that accumulated in his balls is the reason Yoongi’s acting like such a grade ass prick.”

“Read that in Science Weekly, did you?”

“As a matter of fact,” Euna narrowed her eyes at your tone. “Doctors say that blowing your load on the regular is the secret to a long and prosperous life.”

“The ‘expert’ opinion in Cosmo isn’t considered medical backup.”

“Well are they wrong? If you got dicked down more often I bet you wouldn’t be so fucking snappy all the time. Frowning like that is only going to give you premature wrinkles. And that’s a fact.”

“Why do you have to make it a matter of dick or death. Jesus, it’s not that dramatic. I bet all couples go through these dry spells every once in awhile. It can’t be that uncommon.”

“It is! Keeping your vagina happy, keeps you happy. As an extension of—”

“Would it kill you to be serious for a second?”

She huffed, feeling wrongfully rebuked. “It’s your sex life is on the line, not mine.”

That sobered you up a lot more quickly than you would ever like to admit. “I’m well aware...” You pursed your lips into a pout. “Look, it’s not that he doesn’t want sex with me. He just doesn’t have time for it. Because of work. I’m sure everything will go back to normal in a few weeks.”

“In a few weeks? Uh...” Euna trailed off. “Can you even hold off that long?”

“Ha, your faith in me is astounding. I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly capable of going without sex for a month. Or two. I’m sure it won’t kill me... It’s not, like, the end of the world or anything.”

Euna’s raised brows made it clear that she didn’t believe you for one second. “Wasn’t the last time you abstained from sex for more than a month in—” She stopped, deep in thought. “When was the last time you took a break from sex? You have the sex drive of a rabbit.”

“That’s not important,” you snapped, stabbing your fork into a cheese tart. The rich, creamy texture melted on your tongue as soon as you bit into it, but for some reason your favorite dessert tasted like ash in your mouth. “I know you’re trying to help, but sex isn’t the magical solution to everything. It won’t fix anything. Not that anything needs fixing, I’m just saying.”

Sensing that the conversation was drawing to a close, Euna scooted backwards in her chair and stretched her arms. “Mhm, okay, if you say so. Good luck with all that... I sure wouldn’t want to be in your place, that’s for sure.”

That made two of you. 

“Thanks,” you sighed. “Just. Whatever, it’s okay, I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh. Well if things ever start to become...not okay...you can always—”

“I said everything’s fine,” you cut off sharply, effectively putting the conversation to rest. Your appetite lost, you set your fork down.

Regrettably, Euna’s words rattled you more than you cared to admit. You couldn’t shake off her warnings and advice no matter how much you tried to. Throughout the day, you found your thoughts wandering back to the conversation with your sister. Could she be right? The longer you let yourself ponder the issue, the more your doubts grew.

Despite your best efforts, you had no way of stopping these poisonous thoughts from plaguing your mind. No one was around to help you get rid of them and without an outlet, they grew and grew, culminating into an unbearable ache. 

You hated the feeling of loneliness—of being alone and helpless, with nothing but your own thoughts to entertain you. You wished Yoongi would hurry up and come back home so that you could find refuge in his embrace. The bed was too big for just you alone and you hated seeing how empty it was without Yoongi snuggled up next to you. It was always during the time before sleep claimed you that his absence was the most painful to swallow. The overwhelming feeling of loneliness kept you awake for hours. Sometimes, no matter how exhausted you were, your body refused to cooperate unless it knew Yoongi was laying down at your side.

It was with no surprise that you found yourself all alone in the king sized bed that night, Yoongi’s side untouched and unoccupied. Your fingers reached out to where his sleeping figure should have been. Instead of a warm body, you grasped a handful of air. The only reminder that he slept next to you was the faint trace of his aftershave that clung stubbornly to the sheets. You tried not to sigh out in disappointment. You had been doing too much of that lately.

Turning over, you checked your phone for any message notifications despite already knowing that you wouldn’t find what you were waiting for. You curled up in a ball, feeling colder than you had been a few moments ago. Ordinarily, you’d try to stay up and wait for his return, but the day had been so emotionally draining that you slipped into a dreamless sleep the second your eyelids drooped to a close.

.

{SATURDAY. 11.18 am}

.

Despite the unlimited number of TV channels provided, none of the current programs had been interesting enough to capture your attention for longer than a few seconds. Your focus had drifted from the flat screen a long time ago. An infomercial on a 10 speed juice blender buzzed on in the background, but you paid it no heed.

Summer was supposed to be synonymous to leisure and fun. Yet here you were, splayed across the living room’s couch with no tangible vacation plans.

The worst part was that you were alone, with no one to distract you from how utterly and entirely boring your existence had become.

Not that you’d ever confide these innermost feelings to anyone in your entourage. You could already hear your mother’s condescending tone ring through your ears, chastising you for not living your life to the fullest (i.e. spending all of your husband’s hard earned money on luxurious vacation trips to St. Barts or wherever). And sure, trips to St. Barts and St. Tropez were fun—but they weren’t what you wanted. There was no point of going so far overseas when the person you wanted to spend time with was stuck back home. At least here you could see Yoongi from time to time, even if those times were becoming a rarity.

Your friends wouldn’t understand. They had no qualms jetting off every weekend to their private resorts and eating out of season, imported delicacies plated on shining, sterling silver dishes.

Speaking of friends, you flicked through their Instagram accounts, envy stirring in your lower belly as you swiped through their recent pictures, each snapshot showing off lavish hotel rooms equipped with balconies overlooking exotic landscapes and modern skylines. But the designer handbags dangling off their arms weren’t what made you froth at the mouth—you had enough of those lining up your walk-in closet.

No, what you envied the most was how fucking happy they seemed in every single shot. Pic after pic, their whitened smiles never waned.

You blew out a sigh, the heavy sound drowned out by television static.

God. What were you even doing with your life? Was this what you had to look forward to for the next twenty years? Would you and Yoongi even last until then?

This wasn’t how you had imagined your life would turn out when you accepted Min Yoongi’s proposal a year ago.

The honeymoon phase was long over. Even in your company, his attention never strayed too far from his work phone. And that was when he was home. Over the course of the past few months, he had reverted back to the workaholic man his friends and family had always known him to be, leaving behind no trace of the person you had become so taken with.

Working for his attention had always been a challenge. That was what had initially drawn you to him. Out of all the possible suitors lined up for a taste of you, only Min Yoongi’s detachment and feigned disinterest had stood out from the lot. There was something exciting about it, something that kept you on your toes, as opposed to the throng of other candidates that would easily bend to your will. His handsome looks had just been an added bonus.

But somewhere along the way, there had been a shift, too minute to notice on the spot. Now, when Yoongi brushed you off, there was no gleam twinkling in his eyes, no smirk on his lips. It didn’t matter if you wrapped your body up in lace and the finest satin, or stayed up until the early hours of the morning for him to return home—he always asked for a rain check, claiming fatigue.

Eventually, you had stopped trying so hard. There were only so many times you could handle being pushed away again and again before it started to hurt.

As much as you had enjoyed earning the praise and attention in the past, you didn’t like...whatever this had become. It wasn’t a game with rules and limits anymore. When Yoongi pushed you off of him, he meant it. So as much as you appreciated a man who was hardworking and dedicated to his job, you couldn’t help but crave the attention he had stopped giving you. 

The pressure weighing down on your chest increased, making it hard to breathe. Invisible hands had wrapped themselves around your lungs and squeezed hard, leaving no room for air. For an interminable moment, you felt like you were drowning, the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

When you blinked and swallowed, the feeling had disappeared, leaving you feeling hollow, like someone had dug out your heart with a chisel.

It took a while, but you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and finally made up your mind.

What you needed was a distraction, something to keep your hands and mind busy. You couldn’t stay put like this, trapped in your own thoughts and feelings. If you did, you’d surely go mad.

...The only problem was that there weren’t that many distractions available. You could go out on your own into the city to shop or eat but you dismissed the thought as soon as it had a chance to take form. Your closet was already full to the brim with clothes you hadn’t yet found the chance to wear.

As if she had somehow telepathically perceived your difficulties, June, your housekeeper, materialized into the living room, holding a laundry basket against her hip. Quickly, you gathered to your feet, excited by the prospect of finally finding something to do.

She jumped up in surprise, a high-pitched squeal leaving her throat, not expecting to see you appear in front of her with no prior warning. A strand of her curly hair escaped her wound-up bun but she deftly pinned it back in place after readjusting her hold on the laundry basket.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked eagerly.

“Sorry? I don’t quite understand...” 

“Like... I don’t know... Maybe some dishes to clean or socks to fold up...” 

“You want to clean dishes?” she echoed, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted a second pair of limbs. 

You tried not to take offense and pursed your lips.

“Yes,” you confirmed with a firm nod of your head. “Any tasks that you might need help with.”

“Are you feeling okay ma’am?” she queried instead, the lines on her forehead expressing genuine worry. “Do you need to lay down? Should I get water? The heat might be—”

“I’m fine! I just.” You wrung your hands in agitation. Why the hell was this so complicated? Since when did cleaning require justification? “I need something to do. I’m so bored I feel like I’m losing it.”

“Ah. I see...” She looked unconvinced by your words but knew better than to voice her concerns. “Alright. In that case you can do the—ah. Hmm. Why don’t you prepare some cold drinks for the pool boy? The weather must be giving him a hard time.”

“That’s it? You don’t need any help with the cleaning? You had the feeling that she didn’t entrust you with the more ‘serious’ household chores because she was worried you’d inadvertently blowup appliances or flood the laundry room again.

(It had happened once. Forever ago. Wasn’t it time to let it go? How were you supposed to know that you needed to measure the detergent before dumping it in?)

“... Maybe later. I’ll be sure to let you know if I need additional assistance, but thank you for offering.” She shot you a professional smile, putting an end to the discussion.

You trudged back to the kitchen, dragging your faux fur slippers across the floor in defeat.

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but at least you had something to occupy the time with. Knowing that this was your only distraction, you planned on prolonging this task for as long as humanly possible.

What should have taken less than a minute to complete had turned into a tedious chore. You cleaned each strawberry by hand, cutting out the stems with unneeded precision, before slicing them into thin, even pieces. You did the same with the mint leaves and mixed it all into a glass pitcher.

Satisfied with the end result, you poured a generous amount of lemonade into the tall glass before storing the rest in the fridge for later. It was hard to keep the drink balanced on the tray as you slid open the glass door, but you somehow managed to not make a mess.

The heat hit you all at once and you frowned, feeling bad for whoever had been sent out today to clean the pool. It was laborious work and the weather did nothing to alleviate the situation. Nobody wanted to work outside in these less than pleasant conditions which was why it had been a pain the ass to find suitable candidates that were up for the job.

You had tried finding solutions around this problem—like raising the pay rate and alternating between different cleaners every couple of days so that the same one wouldn’t be subjected to the grueling heat all week long. You had been surprised to see how many people sent in applications—not that you were complaining. The only one who had something to say, was Mrs. Kim, the widow from across the street, who liked to grumble about how you were stealing all the good ones.

At the time, you hadn’t quite understood what she had been trying to insinuate. Weren’t all pool cleaners the same? But as you approached the pool, tray balanced dangerously on one hand, it all started to make sense.

Time slowed down like it did in those cheesy, over-the-top kdramas that were all the rage amongst housewives. How many times had you seen the same scenario play out whenever the male protagonist appeared on screen for the first time and met eyes with the heroine from across the room?

It was like you had suddenly been thrust into the drama lead’s shoes. Everything else seemed to fade away, your gaze drawn to man in front of you like a moth to a flame. It was impossible not to stare. Some invisible magnetic force kept your eyes fixated on him. The world could have been crumbling around you for all you knew.

His damp clothes clung to his body like a second skin, revealing sinewy muscles worthy of Calvin Klein billboards. Greedily, you drank in his figure, your gaze lingering on the attractive curve of his ass and the outline of his abs visible through the now see-through white shirt.

You gulped audibly, your mouth unpleasantly dry. It was distracting. He was distracting. Only a miracle had kept you from dropping the tray you were holding. 

Eyes closed, the man tipped his head back and brought his right hand up, carding his fingers through his wet locks. Like a magnet, your eyes were immediatley drawn to his bare neck.

You were transfixed. There was no other word or explanation for it. Even if you had been able to, the chance of you peeling your eyes away from the spectacle in front of you was slim to none.

It hadn’t even registered how ridiculous you probably looked, with your feet planted to the ground and your mouth parted in evident awe.

You took a much needed moment to appreciate his profile—your eyes running down the sharp line of his jaw and down the slope of his neck towards his exposed collarbones. Water droplets dripped down his handsome face and in that very moment you swore that he looked like he had stepped out of a high-end underwear advertisement.

He strung a spare towel around his neck before turning his full attention onto you. Instantly, you were struck by how alive his eyes appeared. They glinted with thinly-veiled mischief. That, the fullness of his lips, and the confident smirk he sported, gave him a youthful and playful mien that contrasted with his virile and attractive build.

“Er...” You coughed, politely averting your eyes from his body. “Do you— Do you need me to get you a spare pair of swim trunks? Yours look a little, um, small.”

You winced, knowing it had been the wrong thing to say.

“Oh?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice that had you looking up at him in alarm. His smile widened, the corners of his eyes creasing into crescents. “Please don’t bother. I work better in these.”

“Oh...well... If you’re sure.”

“Certain.”

He licked his lips. His eyes were hooded, heavy lids doing nothing to subdue the sultry look aimed your way.

“Alright.” You swallowed and paused, searching for the appropriate words. In the span of a few short seconds, your brain had short circuited. You got the next few words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Your name would be nice.” An easy smile sat on his lips.

“______.” You included your last name, hoping he’d get the hint. Briefly, you remembered your interaction with one of the other pool boys, Jungkook, and how flustered he had gotten over his mistake. The one standing in front of you couldn’t have been more different.

“Park Jimin. You can call me Jimin.” He glanced down at the platter you gripped onto with both hands. “This for me?”

Light reflected off the metallic surface of the tray and you were reminded of what you had stepped out the house for.

“Yes, please have something to drink. I made it earlier, I hope it’s to your taste.”

“Thanks for thinking of me.” He took the glass of freshly pressed lemonade off the tray, using the opportunity to step closer to you. The sharp scent of chlorine tickled your nose but to your surprise, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “It gets awfully hot out here and I get so thirsty. You know what I mean, right?”

His voice was as sweet as cotton candy. It took a moment for you to realize he had stopped talking and a few seconds more for you to remember how to form words of your own.

“I try to make refreshments available for all the staff. Everyone works really hard, even in this weather, so I’m thankful,” you said, trying to retain a certain air of professionalism. Hopefully it would be enough to stop him from seeing through the bullshit spouting from your mouth.

Jimin jutted out his bottom lip in a pout before raising his glass to his mouth. He took a big gulp, probably all too aware of the way you were tracking the movement with your eyes. In what was probably a calculated and premeditated move, the pink of his tongue darted out to lick the sweetness off his lips. Distantly, you noted how full and rosy his lips were.

“Aw. And here’s to thinking I was special.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head. Water droplets fell from his wet fringe, the soaked strands sticking to his forehead. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing shacked up, hm?”

“What?” The bluntness of his words caught you off guard. You were used to people being coy, hiding their pretenses behind smiles and well-versed pleasantries. Jimin’s forwardness left you momentarily dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

“Gotta admit, when I took up this job I was expecting to land the standard.” Jimin laughed, pleased. “Can’t deny this is a welcome surprise. Nothing wrong with the older crowd, but you’re definitely something else.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“So what’s your story?” His eyes raked over your form. Unabashed, he lingered on the swell of your breasts, the dip at your waist. You blinked, the apples of your cheeks warming as you remembered you hadn’t worn a bra. You hadn’t thought much about your choice of outfit before—it was thin and comfortable enough to wear around the house, the silky material soft against your skin. Jimin seemed to appreciate the selection, too, if the way his eyes darkened in approval was any indication.

He tapped a finger against the pout of his lips in mock contemplation. “Let me guess. Married a geezer who’s too busy banging his hot secretary to look after you. And when he does, you wish he didn’t because his stamina is shit. Can he even get it up? Heard old age does that to you, not that I would know...”

He shrugged, the smile on his lips sympathetic.

“Yoongi isn’t like that,” you denied right away, a frown ruining your expression. You knew that the conversation was most definitely crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You kept telling yourself to put an end to it before it could get out of hand.

“No?” Jimin leaned in, close enough for you to feel his hot breath fan across your skin.

You didn’t dare move, let alone breathe. Any closer and your breasts would graze his chest. The shocking part was that you almost wanted it to happen. Not that—not that you wanted it to happen with Jimin, specifically. You just wanted. Your body had been suspended in a constant state of yearning for so long that it didn’t take much to stir its interest.

He stepped back to properly appraise you. A shudder ran down your back as you struggled not to let your emotions show. “You look awfully desperate for someone who should be getting dicked down on the regular.”

You opened your mouth to retort but no sound came out.

The heat in his gaze left you breathless. Yoongi used to look at you the same way, before. You remembered the hunger, the way your body used to warm up and ache and squirm under the power of his gaze. Whenever he looked at you with those eyes, your knees would buckle and you’d fall to your knees without question.

“Trust me,” Jimin continued on, oblivious to the perverse thoughts running through your mind. “If that was my ring on your finger, you’d never leave our bed because you’d be too fucked out to even get up. What’s that husband of yours thinking?”

He shook his head, not expecting a verbal answer from you. When he spoke up, his voice had a dangerous undertone.

“It’s because he’s not satisfying your needs,” he said matter of factly. “If he wasn’t as disappointing in bed as you claimed, there’s no way you’d be out here, panting for my dick down your throat instead of his. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You need a nice, thick cock to fill you all the way up. And I can give you what you want, you just gotta say the word.”

Were you being that obvious?

You bit back the whimper threatening to claw its way out your throat. His words kindled a desire deep inside of you—a primal desire you had valiantly tried to suppress for the past month. Yet with only a few well chosen sentences, he had coaxed that need back to the surface, putting all your efforts to waste.

Different scenarios and possibilities flashed in front of your eyes like a fast-forwarded montage. You were so caught up in your thoughts, the infinite could if’s, that Jimin’s disappointed sigh had become background noise.

“Too much?”

You blinked up at him owlishly, not fully grasping the situation until he had taken a few steps back. Even as he backed off, the smirk never fully melted off his face which was a little disconcerting.

Thankfully, the newfound space separating both of you made it easier to breathe, to think straight.

With a surprisingly steady voice, you spoke out. “Jimin, I’m married—”

“I know.” Jimin shrugged as if what you had told him was an inconsequential detail.

Nonplussed by Jimin’s behavior, you bit the inside of your cheek.

Shouldn’t this guy have some morals? Usually men backed off at the mention of a husband but Jimin refused to conform to the norm. Based on what he had previously insinuated, he probably had fucked his fair share of married women. So was it all a game to him? A kink? An ego thing? Were you doomed to be just another notch on his belt? You furrowed your brow, trying to figure out the conundrum that was Park Jimin.

He misinterpreted your silence and sighed, an exaggerated pout on his pink lips.

“It was worth a try... The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’m not going to force myself onto you or anything.” He grimaced at the thought. “But you should know that the option’s there. I wasn’t lying about what I said earlier... You deserve to be with someone who knows what he’s doing... And by the looks of it... He’s not fucking you nearly or well enough to keep you satisfied. I’m more than willing to be of service in any way I can. I promise you won’t be disappointed, I’ve never gotten complaints before.”

He pushed his hair back as his eyes perused your form again, his gaze half-lidded. You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away. You hated how correct most of his assumptions had been. And what you hated even more was how certain he seemed about it all, like his words were the absolute truth.

Something about that irked you. You hated being read so easily—by a stranger, no less. It was embarrassing, how easily he had assessed your situation and lumped you with the countless other bored housewives he had undoubtedly had his way with.  

“Well, thanks for the offer, but no thanks, I’m good. I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not needed.” Even to your own ears, your speech failed to sound convincing. At this point, you weren’t sure who you were trying to persuade—Jimin or yourself. Either way, you weren’t proving to be very capable; your words rung out false and hollow.

“Enjoy the rest of your drink. I hope it quenches your thirst.”

And with that, you turned your head and scurried back into the sanctity of your house, far away from sin and temptation itself. Heart palpitating, you swore that you felt Jimin’s gaze follow you all the way to the door, clinging to you like a shadow. The look he had given you right before you scampered off was one that you’d spend the rest of the day trying to forget.

Unfortunately for you, time was not a sufficient balm to soothe over the heat Jimin’s words ignited. Long after the sun had set, the utter filth that had spilled from his lips kept running through your mind, keeping you up.

Sleep was impossible to find, not that you were surprised. It was becoming a regular occurrence and you figured that you should go seek a doctor’s help if your condition didn’t improve soon.

But you knew that what you needed were neither pills nor herbal concoctions—your body needed Yoongi. You missed his presence, the way he stroked your cheek after you pulled back from a kiss, the way he kept eye contact when he pushed his thick cock between your legs.

God, you fucking missed that asshole.

You hadn’t always hated how much you depended on your husband. You had wealth of your own—or rather your family had wealth of their own—but all your personal expenses and whims had been funded and provided by Yoongi. All of your possessions had been bought with his money—everything from the imported cars, the luxury bags, the designer goods, and the summer residence in The Hamptons you visited every now and then.

The dependence hadn’t bothered you before. And it still didn’t—not in the way that it might bother or embarrass others, anyway. You never felt like you were in his debt after spending hefty amounts of money; that was not how your relationship worked. 

What made you uneasy was how physically dependent on him you had become. It wasn’t until you had been repeatedly denied from his touch that you realized how much your body craved it, ran on it like how a car needed fuel.

Tonight was the night, you finally decided, determination set in your features.

Reaching into the closet, you pulled out your most recent purchase from La Perla and slipped it on, making sure it still looked as good as it had a week ago in the dressing room mirror. You hadn’t found the right moment to wear it and figured it wouldn’t hurt to put the expensive lingerie to good use.

A nervous energy tingled down your spine as you got ready. Anticipation was building inside your belly but you couldn’t tell if it was the good or bad kind. You were brought back to a time when it had been fun to surprise Yoongi. Those had been the best nights—even the mere memory of them had your thighs squeezing together. Back then, the possibility that he might shut you down hadn’t existed.

Maybe you already knew, deep down, that you were setting yourself up for failure.

It still didn’t stop your chest from constricting painfully around your ribs when Yoongi reacted exactly the way you had feared he might.

“What’s gotten into you?” His face conveyed confusion, his gaze flickering from the lit candles around the room to the way your body was splayed out indecently on the bed, body covered by the barest scraps of frill and lace.

On any other day, the sharpness in his tone would have been enough to cut through your confidence and back off. You would have dropped the subject and moved on. But this time the sting of rejection wasn’t easy to dismiss, repetition only making it worse.  

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you snapped, frustration getting the best of you. You sat up from your position on the bed, not missing the way his gaze dropped down to your exposed chest. To your great disappointment, you couldn’t spot any arousal in his expression. He might as well have been looking at a blank sheet of paper. What had changed? Was it him—or was it you?  

Your sister’s words from a few days ago were creeping back now, reinforcing all the doubts and dejection you had fought so hard to suppress. Why didn’t he want you? Were you not desirable anymore? Had he found someone else to fulfill his primal needs? And if he had, what did that mean for you?

What the hell were you supposed to do with a husband that refused to touch you, let alone talk to you?

A sickly feeling rose up your throat, the acidic taste of bile flooding your mouth.  

“Do you not love me anymore?”

The question was meant as an accusation, the words supposed to carry the weight of all your pent up fury and bitterness. Instead of the harshness you had intended, your voice came out feeble and wrung out. The truth was that you were afraid of his answer and what it would do to you. Yoongi’s words were the only ones capable of breaking through the armor you had built around yourself. You didn’t care for the gossiping housewives or the scummy tabloids. But Yoongi? He had always been different. Important. Yours.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It doesn’t suit you,” he chided none too gently.

“Can you stop that?” In the bedroom, the authority he wielded aroused you to no end. But sometimes, like now, Yoongi’s tone and wording rubbed you the wrong way. Did your feelings not matter anymore? When he spoke like that, it made you feel so small. And not in a good way, not the way you liked to feel like during good sex or when he hugged you, limbs wrapped around yours like your own personal fortress.

You pulled the strings of your robe together, your body turned to ice. The see-through material was lightweight and flimsy, doing nothing to obscure your body from view or keep you warm. 

Why had you tried in the first place? Like Yoongi said, you felt ridiculous.

Pride bruised and battered, you attempted to keep your wobbly voice steady.

“God, you can be so condescending when you want to be. I’m not a plaything you only listen to and take care of when it pleases you. I’m your wife, not some plant you need to water every two weeks, don’t you get that?” You weren’t even angry anymore. All you wanted was for this to be over and for your relationship to go back to the way it was before. You were tired of feeling insecure, tired of waiting and wanting. Just...tired.

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, his mouth opened as if to voice his immediate protest.

“I’m not—” He cut himself off, lips thinning into a frown. The deep line between his brows never smoothed over, as if permanently etched onto his features. He bit the inside of his mouth, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he suddenly appeared older, closer to the age written down on his official documents. Genetics had given Yoongi smooth skin and good looks that made him look more youthful than his actual age. But as he stood there in front of you, you could tell that Yoongi’s beauty was marred by evident signs of fatigue and stress. 

“I... I didn’t know I made you feel that way,” he confessed sounding genuinely regretful. “I wasn’t—it wasn’t my intention to. I’m sorry it came off that way. I don’t think of you like that, just so you know.”

The silence that followed his words stretched on for several long seconds.

He didn’t look away from your probing gaze. Even without searching, you knew his words to ring true. He was a bad liar. Good at keeping his feelings locked under key, yes, but never one to outright deceive others. Yoongi had always been bad at expressing affection. He was also bad at reading feelings. He was probably so caught up with his workload that he hadn’t noticed at all.

In retrospect, your outburst had been somewhat unfair. Maybe you were being unreasonable, adding on to his extensive list of worries.

But, no. That didn’t sound quite right, either. Just because he hadn’t been aware that your feelings had been hurt, did not mean that what you felt wasn’t valid. You weren’t selfish for wanting to be happy. You shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting to be loved.

“I know,” you said, voice quiet enough to pass as a whisper. 

Yoongi’s sharp eyes softened. The hard lines around his mouth rounded into a small smile.

“Come here.” He walked over to the bed, his legs spreading as he sat down.

The open invitation was one you were powerless to resist. Although you knew the conversation was far from over, you had missed his warmth and his touch far too much to refuse him. Your entire body hummed, itching for the close physical contact that you had been denied for so long.

His thighs flexed as your fingers dug into his silk pajamas for leverage. From this distance, you could see how haggard he truly was. Purple lined the underside of his eyes, making them look swollen and bruised. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and his cheekbones more prominent than you remembered them to be. When had he last had a proper meal? You suspected that he hadn’t been taking care of himself, no matter what he tried to make you believe. Whenever he got into that serious headspace of his, nothing else mattered but his work—not food, not sleep, and certainly not you.

Cold hands inching up your back interrupted your train of thought. You had been so touch-deprived that any amount of attention directed your way made your body vibrate with ill-concealed excitement.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. Things right now are...” He exhaled sharply, his shoulders slouching under the weight of his worries. “Work has been keeping me busy, that’s for sure. I’m afraid I can’t do much about that. I promise I’ll make it up to you in a few days, once this blows over and we secure our terms.”

“You’ve been so stressed,” you remarked as your own hands wandered up his arms and shoulders. His lean muscles were unnaturally tense under your touch. It had been so long since you had touched him properly that the planes of his body felt like unfamiliar territory.

When he didn’t move away or show any signs of protest, you leaned in to press your lips against his. The kiss was slow, your mouth melting against his like snow falling on a furnace. 

The silky material of his clothes facilitated the glide of your hands down his chest. But before you could reach any lower, Yoongi grabbed you by the wrists, effectively halting your movements.

“Not tonight,” he whispered roughly against your lips, short of breath. 

“When?” You hated how whiny and petulant the question made you sound, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Shall I pencil in an appointment, then?” he humored. “Would you honestly be happier I gave you a time, place and date?” 

“Not really, but I’ll take it.”

“Is sex really the only thing that matters to you?” he asked, half fond, half exasperated. 

“It’s your fault for marrying a slut. You should’ve known what you were signing up for.”

You shared a smile. For once nothing felt awkward or strained. You tried to cherish the moment while it lasted.

Yoongi’s expression eventually morphed into the apologetic one you had grown accustomed to seeing recently. You tried not to let your stomach sink in disappointment, already anticipating his rejection before he could voice it.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not in the mood. You know I can’t focus when there’s so much going on at work.”

“You won’t even need to do anything!” you tried despite knowing that your chances of convincing him were slim. “I’ll top and do all the work.”

“If that’s the case, can’t you just use a sex toy?" Yoongi rolled his eyes. “What’s my use if I’m just going to lay there and take it like a starfish?”

“Did you think I wasn’t using a sex toy all this time? I have a high sex drive... I wasn’t going to just sit around and not take care of myself.”

“Then what’s the problem? It doesn’t matter how you get your pleasure. I’m not one of those men who get weird over their partners using toys. It won’t be a blow to my pride, or whatever.”

“It’s not enough, okay?! I need your cock filling me up, fucking me into the mattress. Every time I cum on my own, it’s not enough.”

“I said no.” He sighed. “Look, it doesn’t matter to me how you deal with it but I can’t take care of it.”

“Take care of it? Is having sex with me a chore or something? Jesus.” You pushed him away with an annoyed expression. Yoongi’s hands dropped from your waist, not putting up much of a fight when you left the seat of his lap.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said ever so patiently, almost like he was talking to a child.

You huffed, scooting further away from him. It didn’t escape your notice that he made no effort to close the physical distance separating the two of you, his hands laying limp at his side.

“So you’re saying you don’t care how I get myself off? You wouldn’t say anything? Not even if I went and got myself a real cock to fulfill my needs?”

Yoongi raised his brows, the insinuation taking him by surprise. Clearly he’d underestimated your level of desperation. You watched his face closely, hoping to decipher what was running through his mind. Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell if the tightness in his features hid displeasure or interest.

His lips were drawn into a thin line as he mulled the proposition over. After a moment of silence, he said in an even tone, “Go ahead, if that’s what you want.”

What.

You hadn’t actually expected him to agree. Turn you over and spank you for suggesting something so outrageous. Get angry for pushing an issue he wanted to drop. But not... You didn’t think that he’d actually be okay with it. Did that mean that he had stopped cari—?

Before you had the chance to finish that thought, he continued on, the dark of his pupils pulsing, “You know that I’ll never deny you. Everything you want is yours. That is my promise to you.”

You opened your mouth to contest but he beat you to it. 

“Whether it’s my cock you need, or another’s. So be it—if that’s all it takes for my needy wife to be satisfied.” A slow smirk pulled at the right side of his mouth. When he spoke, it was gruff and laced with arousal. “You can try to find all the substitutes in the world, but you know that the only one capable of giving you the pleasure you crave so deeply is me.”

Ribbons of heat immediately curled in the pit of your stomach. Dimly, you thought how unfair your dynamic with Yoongi was—all he needed to do was snap his fingers and you’d happily spread open your legs for him. You had always been eager to please him, but you had to admit that the time spent away from him hadn’t fixed such matters.

His hand reached out to trace the outline of your lips. You didn’t dare breathe as the touch of his fingertips lingered, the ghost of a promise making your heart jump in anticipation. Your lips parted in silent invitation, giving him permission to ruin you.

He leaned in so that his breath caressed your skin, the gentle whisper carrying a dark undertone.

“So be patient, darling—or I’ll give you nothing.”

Whether this was a promise or a threat, you were left unsure.

.

.

{MONDAY; 11:19 am}

.

This was a bad idea. A Very Bad Idea.

But bad ideas had never been enough to stop you from getting what you wanted in the past. You called it determination. Some people would disagree with the sentiment but when had their opinions mattered?

Two weeks ago, you wouldn’t have considered going through with this. But your last conversation with Yoongi had been the final push you needed.

Your face broke into a scowl as you remembered his parting words. The infuriating part was what had been written all over his face—the haughty certainty that you’d never rise to the challenge he had issued. That was what had ticked you off the most. You hated losing, but you hated being underestimated and easily dismissed as a non-threat even more. And Yoongi? He knew that about you—and had used it to his advantage.

The question was…could you go through with it? You had never dared to go this far in the past. 

In truth, you hadn’t even considered it. The only person you were interested in was Yoongi. It didn’t matter if other men were closer to your age, richer, brawnier, or more traditionally handsome. The only one you wanted was Yoongi. That would always be your constant variable.

So why were you out here in this gross heat, instead of inside the comfort of your house?

Beads of sweat accumulated near your hairline and dripped down your neck. You resisted the urge to grimace. There was nothing you hated more than sweating in a context that wasn’t good sex or a pilates class. 

Not that your sacrifices mattered anyway—you knew for a fact that Taehyung hadn’t spared you a second glance since he had gotten to work.

You risked a peep over the latest issue of Vogue you had been pretending to read, your sight zeroing on the person in charge of cleaning your pool for the day. He was ridiculously handsome, with strong, defined features and a lithe build, and had this habit of sticking out his tongue whenever he was particularly focused on a task.

Kim Taehyung was maybe a little too absorbed in his work. Was it normal to be this hardworking? Not that you would know what the norm was—you had never worked a day in your life whereas your husband took his job way too seriously. Judging by what you had witnessed in the last hour, you were inclined to believe that being unhealthily dedicated to your work was the norm. The poor kid had yet to take a water break.

You hid a sigh by sipping your fruit smoothie. 

In theory, porn made seducing the pool boy seem like an easy and achievable task—but the truth was that you had no idea how to go about it. It was a shame the clichéd porn scenarios hadn’t covered what to do in case the pool boy in question failed to acknowledge your presence altogether. 

He had worked nonstop since he had arrived, barely looking up from his crouched position near the edge of the pool, too busy fishing out floating leaves and dried flower petals with the help of a skimmer.

You looked down at your bathing suit just to check that your cleavage was still on obvious display.

It had been a long time since you had to work for someone’s attention that wasn’t Yoongi’s. Were you rusty? Or had you really become that undesirable? It didn’t seem to matter that you were wearing a risque bathing suit. You might as well have been a potted plant.

Taehyung had the defense of a wall of steel. It didn’t matter what tricks you resorted to catch his eye—he never budged an inch. Even when you stretched your limbs, nylon straining to keep your decency in tact, Taehyung didn’t bat an eye. 

Needless to say, it was a huge blow to your pride.

Glad that no one else was around to witness your embarrassing attempts, you nonetheless wished to erase your existence from this earth. You gripped the sides of the magazine tighter to cover the entirety of your face and prayed for his shift to end soon.

“I could have been naked and he wouldn’t have noticed,” you despaired the next day, pressing the phone closer to your ear. 

“Maybe he just prefers dicks?” Euna tried to comfort. “Or... You know... Maybe he values his job and doesn’t want to get fired for sexual harassment.”

“I wasn’t—” You spluttered. “I’m just saying he wasn’t looking. The plants were more interesting than me! He just... I can’t believe I got bested by fucking weeds.”

“Tough luck. You shouldn’t get sulky because someone would rather work than bone you.” She paused, perhaps realizing how deep rooted your insecurity was. “Relax. It’s not the end of the world! He’s just one guy, they’re not all like that! You’re not the problem here. Sometimes guys... They need you to be more direct. They don’t understand subtle. Like, you just have to go for it. Batting your eyelashes and showing some sideboob isn’t going to suffice.”

“What do you mean go for it?” Your nose wrinkled in disdain. Yes, you were dick deprived, but not to the point that you’d jump on the nearest available dick like some savage.

“Haven’t you ever watched porn?”

“I’d rather die than deepthroat a popsicle.”

“Oh please. Like you haven’t done worse than that. ” You could hear the eye roll that accompanied her comment. “I’m telling you that men are thick in the head and sometimes need you to spell it out for them, letter by letter, word by word. None of that coy shit. The only ones that fall for that are men like your husband.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Hmph. He has the emotional range of a pea—”

“You’ve only talked to him three times in your life?”

“—so it’s surprising how well the two of you get along, all things considered. Though I suppose if anyone’s gonna get an emotionally constipated person to confess their feelings, it’s you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Did you think I was complimenting you? Oh - I gotta go now, Mom needs me in the kitchen. I’ll call you back tonight!”

“Can’t. I have T&S’s premiere launch event to attend.”

“Oh fine. Good luck, then. Get that dick! Wh— Yeah, it’s your other daughter. Oh fine. Yes, I’ll let her know.” Euna turned her attention back to you and let out a small noise of exasperation. “Mom says she’s happy to hear you and Yoongi are doing well. She’s wondering when you’ll share some, um, good news with her.”

Her words were laden with meaning. You didn’t need her to elaborate any further, having already been roped into the same conversation countless times before.

Somewhere in the background, you could hear your mother yell get that dick! with all the aggressiveness of a cheerleader during the last five minutes of a game.

Ignoring her was the wisest move. You hurriedly bid her goodbye, eager to end the call, knowing that if you didn’t you’d have to be subjected to another hour of your mother’s ceaseless nagging. And—ugh. You had other pressing matters on your hands.

Like, for one, getting that dick.

.

.

{WEDNESDAY. 11.45 am}

.

Getting dick was—surprisingly—not an easy feat. College!you would be crying if she saw how much you were currently struggling.

Your busy husband remained unswayed, no matter how often you tempted him to yield. 

That only left you with so many options, the next one being: OSTPB — Operation Seduce the Pool Boy. 

...Although that option wasn’t proving to be as fruitful as you had hoped.

Where had it all go wrong? You would have thought that your pride was enough to overwrite any subsequent embarrassment. Even if your self-esteem suffered as a consequence of your actions, you had been determined to see this through. 

Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined failing for a second time—but such had been your fate.

A glower broke out across your face, tiny creases forming between your groomed brows. Your most recent non-success had gone spectacularly awry and every time you thought back to what had happened, your stomach turned over in mortification.

Unlike Taehyung, Kim Namjoon had seen you coming from a mile away. His sharp stare had pierced straight through you, uncovering all of your secrets with the force of his gaze alone. It had taken one look at your scantily-clad body for him to correctly assess the situation and act accordingly.

Somehow that had made his disinterest all the more disheartening and humiliating. The experience forced you see your situation in a different light. You couldn’t help but pity yourself a little. A married woman throwing herself at any handsome man that came her way? That was pathetic, even by your standards.

Maybe you were better off calling the whole thing off. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself. You hadn’t counted on a third opportunity to present itself.

“Bad day?” 

“That obvious?”

Hoseok smiled. “I’d say so, yeah. You’re drinking before lunch. That’s never a good sign.”

He had a point.

Crinkling your nose, you explained, “I had to attend a baby shower this morning... It’s the third one this month! Honestly. What is it, mating season?” To you, it all served as one big reminder that everyone was getting it on except for you—which naturally put you in the brightest mood.

“Then why bother going? I’m sure you could find other activities to do instead.”

“Free Dom Perignon,” was your automatic answer, albeit not a truthful one. Hoseok cracked a smile.

“I wouldn’t have thought that to be a problem...” He eyed the flute of sparkling champagne you were currently nursing.

“It’s the principle. But... You’re right. They’re always such a chore. And I could definitely pass up on Sohee’s constant nagging. God, she never shuts up. Especially after starting on the champagne. Fucking lightweight,” you glowered, lipstick stained mouth thinning into a straight line. “All she ever does is gloat and provoke me. Whatever. She’s just mad the man she got married to is nearing 60 and balding. I’d be mad, too.” 

Hoseok laughed. It tumbled out of his parted mouth, loud, unrestrained, and so unlike the artificial pleasantries you had been subjected to all morning. The sound was clear and infectious, ringing through the summer air like wind chimes. 

You gulped down the remnants of champagne, the golden bubbles sliding down your throat smoothly. It wasn’t your first flute of the day. By now, the alcohol was flowing pleasantly through your bloodstream, warming your skin to a glow. The muscles on your face relaxed.

“But think of all the free fancy ass booze and food you’d be missing out on. If you hate the others so much, just go sit in a corner and eat your truffle hors d’oeuvres and caviar canapés in peace.” 

“If only I could,” you said, followed by a very dramatic eye roll. “I’ve got an image to keep up, you know. The gossiping crones already see me as some dumb bimbo who whored herself out to land a nice, rich, young husband.” You tried to keep your voice light and airy, but shades of bitterness could be heard despite your best efforts. 

Your marriage with Yoongi had caused quite the stir... Even now, a good year after the wedding, people still had your name on their lips, tainting it with disdain.

What bothered you was that they thought Yoongi was easy. Did they think all it took was a nice rack and a tight ass to win him over? Sometimes you wished your husband only thought with his dick—it would make things a lot easier for you, that was for sure—but that wasn’t the kind of man he was. And at the end of the day, that wasn’t the kind of man you wanted him to be, either.

“Ah, come on, it can’t be that bad.” Hoseok’s lazy smile drooped. You turned your face away, hating the sympathy you could see in his eyes. You didn’t need to be pitied. Annoyance made you take another sip.

The smart move would be to agree and end that particular discussion with a swift conversation change. It was what you were used to doing. 

But an invisible force stopped the words from shaping. Later on, you’d blame it on the liquor in your veins muddling your judgment and the sweltering summer heat making you dizzy. Instead of the prepared answers you were used to dishing out, your genuine emotions bubbled to the surface before you could filter them—and once you got started, it was impossible to stop. 

“It is. I’ve heard them. They’re not discreet, nor do they want to be.” You adjusted the sunglasses perched on your nose bridge, glad you had something to hinder Hoseok’s attentive gaze. He was too observant for his own good. “They’re always equally surprised and disappointed when they learn Yoongi hasn’t filed for divorce and put himself back on the market. Sohee’s only two years younger than me but she keeps asking me for tips.”

“Tips?”

“Yes...” To your chagrin, you found that the flute of champagne was empty so you set it down. “She always rubs her age in my face as if a two year age gap is that big of a deal. Hmph. According to her, the only reason Yoongi would stay with me for so long is because of my evil feminine wiles.”

“Didn’t you say she has a husband? Why does she care what you do with Mr. Min?”

“Yeah, well, joke’s on them because I don’t do anything.” Something sour ruined your expression. At least your Gucci shades gave you something to hide behind. “Not for lack of trying, anyway,” you added bitterly.

Hoseok tilted his head to the side, his expression one of polite confusion.

“...You don’t do anything?” he parroted, trying to make sense of the words. It was the first time hearing you profess yourself so frankly, without pretense or filter.  

“I don’t want to spell it out for you,” you grumbled, not daring to meet his eyes. You were pathetic as it was... No need to make yourself look even worse. As if you needed Hoseok pitying your nonexistent sex life on top of everything else.

There was a moment of silence, only broken by the sound of birds chirping and the distant sound of your neighbor’s dog barking. You let your eyelids flutter close, feeling a strange sensation of calm wash over your body.

Admittedly, getting your inner frustrations off your chest had been relieving, in a way. It had been nice to have someone listen to you rant, even for a moment. Talking with Hoseok was a nice change from the stilted and repetitive conversations you had during your obligatory social run-ins with other housewives. 

Speaking of Hoseok, you didn’t need to open your eyes to know that he had probably gone back to finish his job, not knowing what to say without making it awkward or crossing boundaries. You didn’t have the heart to open your eyes and check. As long as your eyes were closed, it was easier to maintain the illusion of peace you had found momentary refuge in. 

The sound of quiet rustling made you crack open an eye. Surprise had you opening both. While you had been stuck in your inner musings, Hoseok had gotten up from where he had been sitting to plop down next to you. 

You didn’t dare move. Not only because the abrupt move had caught you off guard, but you were worried that if you tried to squirm away to give him more room, you’d topple off and hit the ground. The chaise lounge was too narrow to comfortably accommodate two people but somehow it worked. When he adjusted his sitting position, the material of his swim trunks brush your outer thighs. Hoseok was so close that you felt the heat radiating off his body.

He reached over, grabbing a bottle of tanning lotion you had set down next to a pile of magazines. As he looked up, he saw your wide eyes and hastened to explain, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look really stressed.”

No shit, you wanted to snark but he cut you off before you had the chance.

“You should let me,” Hoseok suggested while shaking the bottle in his hand. “I’m pretty good at working out knots. I don’t have a certificate or anything, but—my body gets really tense after dance class, and sometimes I don’t have the time or money to go to a salon. I’ve read books and watched a lot of YouTube videos, which, I can understand may not sound very convincing but trust me, I know what I’m doing.  Of course, doing it to yourself is fine, too, but it’s a lot more effective when someone else takes care of it.”

All you could do was stare. The bout of silence was enough to make him lose a bit of confidence, and he sent you a sheepish smile. 

“I mean, it’s up to you. I’m definitely not as good as the pros but I’m not terrible, either. Some even say my massages are better than orgasms.” The sudden grin he sported was so wide that you couldn’t tell if he was exaggerating or not. “I just figured… I can’t guarantee a 100% success rate but I’ll do this free of charge, so that’s something to consider. This is a limited time offer.”

“You know I’m not one to turn down freebies,” you said through a smile, not taking as long as you should have to consider his proposition. Maybe you should have thought harder about the implications but right now his offer seemed too good to pass up. A massage that was better than nutting? Sold. “Should I…?”

“Yeah, why don’t you roll around onto your stomach for me? I can start on your back,” Hoseok said while he uncapped the bottle and squirted a dollop of tanning lotion onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together, warming up the liquid, before pressing the pads of his fingers into the meat of your shoulders. 

“This okay?” he asked as he hovered above you. “It’s better when I use scented oils like lavender but this will have to do. I didn’t bring any of my usual stuff with me.”

“Mhmm.” His voice sounded far away already. “It’s good.”

His hands covered every inch of your skin, slow in their study. Slender digits alternated between rubbing circles and squeezing flesh. From time to time, flashes of pain spread across your back as he worked on your muscles. The soreness melted away just as quickly; Hoseok seemed to know just how much pressure to exert for you to go boneless in his grip.

Slowly, you felt yourself relax under his ministrations, your head drooping further into the cushion as he worked his magic on you. You had to bite your lip to prevent any embarrassing sounds from filtering out whenever his strong hands kneaded a particularly sore spot. It felt so good that you were convinced Hoseok had been a professional masseur in his past life. Not even the ladies at the spa you regularly frequented could get you to unwind this efficiently. If you could stay in this blissed out state forever, you would. 

You heard him saying something about what pressure point he was massaging but his voice came out muffled, as if a thick stone wall was separating the two of you. His words had been tuned out the moment his hands had drifted lower to work on the bottom of your spine. Nothing else mattered but the firm press of his fingers against your heated skin made easy thanks to the slickness of the tanning lotion. 

Slightly dazed, it took a moment to register that Hoseok was repeating your name in an attempt to grab your attention.

“Is it alright with you if I untie this?” His voice was warm and syrupy like molasses. You had the strangest desire to bathe in it.

You nodded your assent, breath hitching as you felt his long digits work on the knot of your bathing suit. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally pulling the strings apart.

The tension in the air was palpable. All pretense of a simple and friendly massage having been thrown out the window the moment he had asked to remove your clothes. After all, there had been no sound and logical reason to—it wasn’t as if the thin piece of fabric tied at your back had hindered his movements in any way or obstructed his work. 

Hoseok had asked for your permission to go further and you had given it to him without a second thought.

“Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” He waited for your verbal confirmation to continue. His fingers had stilled, no longer working your skin like dough. On one hand you were thankful for him giving you ample time to back out, but on the other hand...

Now that you had been given a preview of what he was capable of doing, how did he expect you to turn him down? Maybe that had been his plan from the start—wind you up to your breaking point until you had no choice but to beg and plead. 

The top of your bikini slid off your body as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You had to crane your neck to throw him a look over your shoulder, your hair cascading down the arch of your back as you did so, but the slight discomfort was well worth it. 

The rough pads of Hoseok’s fingertips dug into the divots of your waist. To keep you still, maybe. But you could tell by the clench of his jaw that he was holding himself back. 

A sudden surge of power coursed through you. Speeding, top down on the highway and riding twisting rollercoasters...none of these came close to giving you the same high that surged through you when you were wanted, coveted, and lusted after. There was nothing more empowering than knowing your presence made men weak in the knees.

“It’s okay if it’s you, Hoseok.” You batted your lashes and let a slow smile spread across your face. 

It was an enticing invitation, one that Hoseok had no heart to refuse. He raised a tentative hand towards the scruff of your neck, letting his weight rest there as if testing the waters. When he saw that you weren’t going to retract your words or shy away from his touch, he let his palm drag down your bare back. 

There was no way that he didn’t notice the way goosebumps littered the skin he touched, the way you trembled with want. 

There was no reason to be nervous, you thought as his fingers danced on your skin. The words spoken to yourself weren’t intended to reassure—you were stating facts. Hoseok was safe and secure. You knew that if you wanted to put an end to everything right now, he’d do so without complaint.

As if reading your mind, he smiled in promise, “I’ll take good care of you. Why don’t you turn around. Let me see all of you.” He nudged you, fingers stopping short of your pale blue bikini bottoms. 

Hoseok tensed when you twisted around to lay comfortably on your back. Although he had been the one to suggest it, the sight of you topless momentarily robbed him of speech.  

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Awe colored his tone. His eyes mirrored the sentiment, wide with wonder.

He squeezed more lotion into the palm of his hands and wasted no time reaching for the dip of your waist. Warm hands slid up your sides, tickling your ribcage as they reached higher and higher. 

A shaky breath left your lips when he finally enclosed his hands around the globes of your breasts and gently squeezed. 

Desire lit a fire in the pit of your belly.

There was something undeniably sexy about having to face him while his hands freely roamed your body. When your head had been nestled in the crook of your arms, it had been easy to let your mind drift away. But your current position now made that impossible.

Hoseok’s presence was overwhelming. All you saw was him—the fiery depths of his eyes, the pretty slope of his nose, his fucking arms, and the way his long fingers were currently cupping your breasts, his thumbs rubbing the peaks insistently until they ached. The upward tug of his lips told you that he was well aware of how well he was affecting you.

“Good?” It was a rhetorical question. You were putty in his hands, as pliant and malleable as a ball of clay.

He readjusted himself between your legs and used his knees to keep your thighs spread open for him. A whine worked its way up your throat. Much to your frustration, his new position prevented you from rubbing your legs together and getting the friction you so desperately needed.

Your lower lips felt uncomfortably wet, and by the way Hoseok ran his tongue over his lips like a famished wolf in front of a long-awaited meal, you knew your arousal to be evident. By now the expensive piece of swimwear was surely stained with your juices.

Hoseok’s hands had wandered back down your body, digits now tracing your hipbones, while his gaze resolutely fixed the spot between your legs. For a reason unknown to you, he didn’t dare go any further than slip his thumbs beneath the material of your swimming suit.

Exasperation built up inside of you the longer the teasing went on. You didn’t know what he was waiting for. It was clear that he wanted it as badly as you did—if the tent in his swim shorts was any indication—so what was holding him back? How long were you going to keep staring at each other before the weakest died of blue balls?

So you did what any woman of action would have done and pulled at the strings holding up your bikini bottoms. Two quick, efficient tugs later and you were stark naked, bare as the day you were born.

Hoseok’s eyes bugged out. 

To your dismay, your forwardness failed to have the desired effect. Instead of urging him into action, all he did was freeze up.  In fact you feared that you had broken him—his mouth opened and closed once, twice, three times, but no sound came out.

“Do you need a hand written invitation?” At this point, you were running out of options. God, what did it take to get fucked around here? Like. Bless thee who invented dildos because without them you would have lost your mind a long time ago.

Finally he shook his head, hands reaching down to grip your thighs. His tongue poked out to lick his lips. “You’re something else...” 

“In a good or bad way?” you asked, the hitch in your breath audible. His hands hands had inched dangerously close to where you wanted him to touch the most.

His lips quirked into a grin. “I’ve never seen someone get this soaked over a small massage. You’re literally perfect.”

Words that should have embarrassed you were balanced out with praise. The mix of the two made your insides tighten. 

“Eager, too.” His grin widened. “That’s how I like them.”

Before you could quip back, he swiped his pointer finger through your slippery folds. The initial touch made your entire body jolt. It had been so long since someone had given you attention that your body ate everything up like it was starved. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched you properly, especially one that wasn’t your husband.

The thought of Yoongi only made your heart thump harder against your ribcage. You had no time to dwell on your feelings, however, not when Hoseok added a second digit to the mix. 

His brow was furrowed in concentration. Guys your age had the tendency to rush through their motions, fueled by the need to get off. Sometimes they even skipped foreplay entirely. Hoseok was not like other guys your age. He took his time running his digits through your slick lips, not caring about his own erection straining his shorts.

It didn’t take long for you to get impatient again. You had always had a problem with waiting and being patient—and the last month had seriously tested the limits of your self-restraint. 

Just when you were about to voice your frustration, Hoseok gathered your arousal until his fingers were thoroughly coated with your juices. He honed in on your aching clit with expert precision. Your thighs tensed as you tried your best to keep your hips still and your legs open. 

It didn’t take long for it to feel really good. Better than the expensive bullet vibrator that you had been using religiously for the last few weeks. You were 100% certain that you would have hurled prematurely to your end if Hoseok hadn’t eased up on the pressure, his touch now feather-light and teasing. The abrupt change in pace had you reeling.

You slumped back into the chaise lounge, the back of your head hitting the twined material with a dull plonk. Fate apparently wanted to deprive you of a good orgasm until the very end. That petty bitch.

Hoseok chuckled and you tried not to take offense. You’d like to see him last as long as you had. 

“You’re not relaxed at all.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” you deadpanned.

It was hard to keep the pout on your face when his fingers resumed their ministrations. Your knee jerked when he brushed over a particularly sensitive spot and you had to bite your tongue to keep any moans at bay.

“Ever heard of the saying ‘good things come to those who wait’?”

“I’ve been waiting plenty long!” 

“Is that so?” His tone turned sickly sweet, almost mocking. “Guess I have to reward your good behavior.”

Before you had time to second that thought, he thrust a finger up to the knuckle, the sudden intrusion catching you by surprise. It was like someone had punched the air out of you. Your mouth parted in a silent cry as his finger soon turned to two.

He kept up an easy rhythm, his fingers curving every so often to drag along your inner walls. Every single one of your nerves were on fire. 

Bit by bit, the constant and steady pressure made you unravel. Any control you had over yourself and the situation was slowly slipping through your grasp—but the loss didn’t bother you as much as it normally would have. 

“How does that feel? Shit.” He stifled a groan when he felt you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining that it was his cock buried inside your warm pussy instead. “Shit, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re doing so good,” you panted between two breaths. “I’m, ah, going to cum soon.”

“Already?” he asked, equally surprised and pleased at the admission.

Your words fueled his desire to see you fall apart. His pace picked up, the force of his thrusts making your back arch every time he buried his fingers into your heat. The brush of his fingers against your velvety walls felt so good that you could have cried fat tears of gratitude. Hoseok reached so much deeper than you ever could, stroking places inside of you that you had a hard time reaching on your own.  

Hoseok must have a PhD in fingering, you thought, half-delirious from the amount of pleasure he was giving you.  It had taken him an extraordinarily short amount of time to find and zero in on all your erogenous zones. Just like how he had known which spots to press during the massage, he seemed to be eerily attuned to your body and its needs. Not that you were complaining—far from it actually.

All of your inner ramblings ceased when he squeezed in a third finger, stretching your walls to accommodate the extra digit. You expected it to burn—three fingers was nothing to scoff at, especially ones as long as his. What should have been an uncomfortable experience wasn’t thanks to how fucking wet he had made you. 

He drove his fingers in and out of you, alternating between swift and slow, rough and sweet. The wet squelches were obscene, so loud that you were convinced your neighbors could probably hear you if they tried hard enough.

Distantly, you realized what a shocking pair the two of you made. If your housemaid bothered to look out the window, she’d see you naked and getting fingered by someone who was most definitely not your husband. Now wouldn’t that be scandalous?

The mere thought of Yoongi brought you closer to the edge. Your eyes fell shut of their own accord, images of your husband replacing the ones of Hoseok. Lost in your favorite fantasy, it didn’t take long for you to reach your end. It never did when you started imagining your husband pleasuring you. 

With the memory of Yoongi’s smirk painting the dark of your eyelids, you came, walls contracting around Hoseok’s hand like it was trying to milk cock. Your back arched off the chaise, your entire frame trembling from the force of your overdue orgasm. Spots of white dotted your vision and you had to forcibly blink them away. Only then did you realize that the yells puncturing the air had belonged to you.

“So fucking pretty. How are you so fucking soft? Shit, this is way better than what I imagined.” 

“Think about me a lot?” you asked once your heart had calmed down to an acceptable rate.

You expected him to deny it but to your surprise his concession came easily. “Can’t help it.” He deliberately looked away from your look of wide-eyed curiosity. “You’re… Seriously, you could have anyone.” 

“I’m not sure about that.” You reached for the hand settled on your thigh. It was only when you interlaced fingers that he looked up at you.

There had been a time when you had felt invincible, capable of bewitching any individual of your choosing, no matter the status or experience. It seemed like a lifetime ago. 

But Hoseok spoke with such sincerity that you couldn’t help but eat up his praise. The way he touched you—stroking your body like he was handling an expensive piece of artwork, like you were valuable and untouchable—made you believe him. You wanted to be convinced. 

“I’ll show you, if you’ll let me.” He kept his gaze steady and you found it hard to look away from the intensity burning behind his stare. “Want to make you come on my tongue. Let me take care of you.”

You felt your muscles pull as you spread your legs wider, putting your glistening folds on crude display. Hoseok swallowed thickly and wasted no time diving in, one of his hands maneuvering your lower body until one of your legs hooked over his shoulder, giving him better access to your dripping core.

He leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath warm your skin. It was the only warning you got before he darted his tongue out, the flat drag of the muscle making your toes curl. 

It was slow, sweet torture. As much as you wanted more, wanted to grind yourself on his face, Hoseok kept a sturdy arm braced over your stomach while the other wrapped tightly around your thigh. You had no other choice but to just take it the way he wanted to give it, completely at his mercy. 

The steady, insistent flicks of his tongue over your clit had you gushing, your hole clenching sporadically in hopes of getting filled up again. You pulled the silky strands of Hoseok’s hair in an attempt to get him to satiate your need for more—but to no avail.

Hoseok refused to speed up, even as he felt your thighs tremble under his hold. If anything, your frustration seemed to amuse him. He chuckled against your clit, the vibrations setting each and every one of your nerve endings on fire.

“Hhn, puh-” you sucked in air. “Shit, I’m so, so close.”

He hummed in encouragement, smile hidden between your folds. 

You knew you were cumming before it actually happened. It started slowly, your toes curling and knee jerking, and then worked its way up your spine. Stars blotted your vision until all you saw was white.

If he hadn’t kept you firmly pinned in place, arm muscles flexing as you resisted, you were sure you would have crushed Hoseok’s head between your thighs. Or accidentally kicked him in the shins. The force of your orgasm was a tangible force, one that knocked the wind out of you like a punch to the gut.

“So good.” He sucked his slender fingers until they came off clean.  

Sitting there between your legs, he looked like the picture perfect definition of debauchery—red lips and chin glistening from your juices, face splotchy in the cheeks,hair mussed up and knotted by your hands.

His eyes didn’t leave yours for a second, even as he licked the last traces of you off his hand. Your core throbbed. There was something undeniably arousing about a man who genuinely enjoyed giving head, who did it because he wanted to and got off on it, not because he felt obligated to or because he wanted something else in exchange. 

“You’re so fucking sweet.” He glanced down and groaned. “I’m so hard, fuck.”

“Do you want me t—”

“No, no, just. Give me a moment.” He palmed himself through his swim trunks but kept his gaze fixed between your legs, his attention unwavering. “I’ve made such a mess of you... Look at your thighs, they’re soaked. And that stain’s going to be impossible to clean off. What are you going to do if someone asks you what happened? It’s way too big to miss.”  

You spread your thighs a bit more, intrigued by the way his hand seemed to press down harder at the visual provided. “What do you want me to tell them? I can’t possibly tell them the truth... If any of the housewives found out how good you are with your hands, they’ll end up stealing you from right under my nose.”

“I don’t care about them,” he dismissed seriously. “Why would I when the sweetest pussy is right here, all swollen and dripping for me.”

Your cum was still slowly trickling out of you. Upon hearing his words, your core clenched and the contraction made a fresh gush of opaque fluid drip down between the crevice of your ass. You resisted the urge to wipe yourself off, knew that the slight discomfort was well worth it if it meant witnessing Hoseok’s unraveling.    

Hoseok was so enraptured by the sight in front of him that he was probably unaware of how deathly attractive he looked at the moment. It wasn’t a trick of the light or an ephemeral thought. Hoseok had always been handsome in your eyes but there was a distinct difference between when he was working and when he was set on giving you the high of your life. You had never been subjected to the brunt of his charisma, but now that you had, you could tell how much control he had over himself. Even now, his sexual energy was focused and restrained. 

His eyesight had zeroed in on your pussy like a hawk sweeping in for its kill. His toned chest rose and fell, drawing attention to the sheen of perspiration lining his muscles. 

“Hoseok.” The neediness in your voice broke him out of his trance. 

When his eyes met yours, you felt your core clench up again. The sight of him shirtless, his lean muscles tensing every time his palm rubbed over the head of his erection through the material of his trunks, was enough to get you aroused all over again despite your recent orgasm. 

“Please cum on me,” you asked sweetly.

He groaned in response, the sound low and guttural in his throat. 

You hadn’t thought it possible, but his eyes darkened, black pupils swallowing up the brown of his irises until there was nothing left but raw arousal. 

“Yeah? You’d let me?” He shifted onto his haunches and hastily tugged down his shorts low enough to relieve his aching member from the confines of the fabric. His red cock stood stiff, the tip leaking pearly precum everywhere.  

A pleased smile stretched across your face. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a while.

The thought made something in your stomach curl pleasantly. You had done that, not anyone else. That alone was enough to spread heat throughout your body.

“I want you to cum all over me.”

“Fuck, when you talk like that I want to give you everything.” Hoseok held up a hand to your mouth and ordered in a gruff voice, “Spit.”

Doing as he commanded, you gathered as much saliva as you could and let it pool into his cupped palm. He muttered quick praise and wasted no time slicking up his length with your spit—not that it was needed.

It didn’t take long for him to cum.

“Where do you want it?” he asked between gritted teeth. Not once did his pace falter or slow down as he raced toward his end.

“Right here.” You didn’t need to think twice about it, your hand already reaching between your legs to open yourself up for him.

He growled as cum painted your inner thighs white. His hand stroked him through his orgasm, not stopping until he was certain he had nothing left to give you.  

When Hoseok hunched forward to slot his mouth over yours, lips tasting of you, there was no mistaking the victorious smile adorning your face.

 .

{FRIDAY. 10.21 am}

.

Something in the air had changed.

It felt like the world had tilted on its axis and the stars had realigned themselves in the sky. It was like getting your contact lens prescription strengthened—the world just looked different.

Your midday tryst with Hoseok had been the catalyst behind it all.

The reverence illuminating Hoseok’s eyes as he watched you come apart was still fresh on your mind. It filled you with bubbly giddiness. And that feeling—that swarming of butterflies in your stomach—was undoubtedly an improvement from the paralyzing numbness you had grown accustomed to over the last few months.

For the first time in a while, you had been able to sleep soundly. The results of a good night’s sleep were perceptible to the naked eye. Your skin was dewy and radiant, clear of the usual imperfections brought on by anxiety and exhaustion.

“You look well this morning,” had complimented June as she filled your empty glass with freshly pressed orange juice. You had hummed around a bite of gluten free toast, pleased with yourself.

Your good mood lasted all throughout the morning. It was Wednesday, you realized.

There was a bounce in your step when you realized what day it was and who you’d inevitably be seeing. Even though it hadn’t been that long, time tricked you into believing eons had passed since your last encounter. So much seemed to have changed since then.

You didn’t feel like the same person, for one. There was no more awkward fumbling or nervous lip biting, no sudden urge to cover your scantily exposed body with a bathing gown. 

The confident stride towards the pool’s edge felt less like an act. When you sat down at the ledge, dipping your ankles into the lukewarm water, you didn’t feel like some kind of fraud. You were no longer trying to emulate the person you had once been—you were that person. It had just taken a while to find her again.

Jimin rose to his feet. He had been changing the water filter before your arrival had made him halt mid-activity. 

For now you didn’t pay him any mind. You stretched your neck to the side, soaking up the summer sun. You were sure that you would have painted a much more seductive picture if your ass didn’t feel like it was on fire. Literally.

The stony edge of the pool was too hot, bordering on burning. You wriggled around, hoping you’d eventually adjust to the heat but in the end couldn’t handle it.

You slid in, water splashing around you as you submerged yourself. The water barely came up to your chest, which was probably for the best because your makeup wasn’t waterproof. And runny mascara? Not your best look.

When you looked up, Jimin’s unimpressed stare met you head on.

And, granted, choosing to go for a swim while he was cleaning the pool was not the smartest or most logical feat.

You weren’t here to swim, though. And Jimin knew it, too.

Jimin didn’t shy away from your gaze. On the contrary—he seemed to enjoy the scrutiny, preening. Your shameless admiration did nothing but stroke his already well inflated ego. 

He raised his brow in your direction, half-expecting you to run away again. It felt like a challenge—one you were more than happy to take on. 

In truth, you had been waiting for this opportunity. 

Jimin didn’t disappoint. With a splash, he dived in and swam to your section. He stopped just short of you, close enough to clearly see the water trickling down his body in rivulets. 

“Is this a hobby of yours?”

“Hm? What is?” He flicked his wet bangs to the side.

“Seducing married women.”

The smile he wore told you that he found your question amusing. “...Have I seduced you?”

His remark wasn’t enough to deter you. By now, you had gotten used to his teasing and it was getting easier to ignore his attempts at winding you up.

“Why do you do it? I’m sure you could have any young and pretty thing lining up to date you.” You genuinely wanted to know. Ever since you had met him and he had made his intentions clear as day, you had wondered why he’d ever bother chasing married women. What did he expect from it? Love? Money? Was this just something to pass the time? Or was this a way to prove his sexual prowess and attractiveness?

Life had taught you that nothing in the world came for free. There was always a price to be paid. Jimin seemed to have that lesson ingrained in him as well. It was in the way he carried himself with confidence, the way he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

In many ways, Jimin reminded you of yourself—or the self that had existed before your insecurities had made your outer layer crumble.

“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’m not interested in dating any pretty, young thing. To be frank… Dating holds no interest for me. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“You’re just looking to wet your dick,” you translated. 

“If I wanted to ‘wet my dick’,” he quoted with a roll of his eyes, “I could get that on campus. It’s not that hard to get laid when you look like I do.”

“Maybe you have a preference for cougars?”

“I’m serious. You of all people must know that relationships are about giving and taking. Compromise. I know what I can offer and what I’m willing to give up and none of those things people want.”    

The honesty in his voice made you pause. You couldn’t claim to understand what he meant—because you didn’t. If he didn’t want sex and if he didn’t want a relationship, what did that leave? If it hadn’t been for the truth coloring his tone, you would have called him out for his bullshit.

“Seduce… I guess you could call it that... But it’s not as bad as you probably think it is.” His plush lips pressed into a thin line. “There’s no trickery to it. Every single person I get involved with knows what they’re getting into. I tell them what I’m willing to offer and they name their price. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. You blinked in realization. “You’re saying you’re in this for the money?”

Jimin was quick to correct you. “It’s not always money. Apparently they think it’s crass to give cold hard cash, they think it diminishes my worth or something along those lines.” He smiled and shrugged. Your eyes strayed to the curve of his collarbones. “Personally I don’t mind either way. Gifts are gifts.”

Looking at him now, you could picture it. He was young and attractive, willing to entertain bored and unsatisfied housewives while their negligent husbands failed to keep them happy. You could see why they’d be enthusiastic to take him up on the offer—Park Jimin was charming in a way that made you hang onto his every word. It was the way he carried himself, the way he talked, the way he looked at you. He was hard to resist and he knew it.

“Sometimes it’s not even sexual,” he went on to explain. “I think… Some of them… They just seemed... Not sad. But, like. Lonely, you know? And some of them… Sometimes I don’t really do anything, nothing that crosses lines, nothing that would get my dick chopped off if their husband watched the CCTV footage. Really, what I do is not as salacious as you’re imagining… Most of it is quite tame.”

“Tame?” Jimin didn’t fit the definition of tame by a long shot. Your eyebrows scrunched up together, skepticism etched deeply onto your expression.

“Well. I’m hot,” Jimin stated, serious. “So that already takes care of half of it.”

You laughed, silently wondering how it was possible for a person to be so shameless. Although you supposed you weren’t one to talk. You were as vain as they came. It was just shocking to see someone not even try to fake modesty. The near perpetual smirk on his face would be insufferable on anyone else, but Jimin made it work in his favor.

“I don’t do anything special. Well, okay. Maybe I make a show out of cleaning the pool, but that’s about it.” 

He glanced down at his choice of swimwear and you eventually caught on to what was insinuated. Much like the ones he had on during your last encounter, his swimwear seemed to be a size too small for him, hugging his thick thighs and putting his impressive muscles on display. Even the chastest person on the planet would have difficulty abstaining from ogling his build. Thirsty housewives wouldn’t stand a chance.

A half-naked, attractive man doing manual work? “I can see what you mean,” you agreed. “I don’t doubt your popularity among the married crowd.”

“Oh?” He tilted his chin so that he could stare at you through wet lashes. The water droplets gave the illusion that his eyes were framed by minuscule crystals. When he blinked, you couldn’t look away, spellbound. “Are you including yourself?”

Something in your expression made the shade of his irises burn to black, the heat in his eyes as smothering as burning hot coals. Your already unstable heart found it hard to function. It knocked loudly against your chest and you were afraid it would burst from the force of it.

As a last ditch effort to regain control of the situation, you hurriedly asked, “Do you have anything off limits? Or are you okay with doing anything?”

The string of questions broke the oppressing sexual tension that had threatened to consume you. His alluring expression shifted back to a neutral one.

“Depends on the person,” he answered after thinking it over, serious once again. “I can’t fake arousal. I’m either hard or I’m not, you know?” 

“You’ve had sex with some of them before though, have you?”

“Yeah.” It was an easy admission. Jimin wasn’t boasting but he wasn’t ashamed of his past deeds either. “Not often and never off the bat, but yes. Can’t say that I haven’t.”

“Inside or outside the house?”

“Once inside the gardening shed, against the door. Wouldn’t recommend unless you fancy a trip to the hospital to remove all the splinters on your back. I’ve also done it in the bed they shared with their husband. That was...something.” The way he said it made it sound like the understatement of the century. 

Before you could press, he continued, “Sex isn’t really something I’m up for all the time though. I’ve learned the hard way that it’s easy to let things get out of control...” A grimace, a pause, and then, “It’s easy for people to get confused. Feelings can develop and that’s... I’d rather avoid those complications if I can. There’s nothing fun about making women cry.”

It sounded like a warning.

You wondered how many times he had to reiterate his stance, how many times he had to draw lines and keep them clear to avoid breaking hearts. You wondered how much of his story was laced with truth and how much of it was twisted to deceive you.

How many before you had been presented with the same backstory? How many of them had let themselves be tempted by his proposition? It seemed like a good deal, after all. Who would be willing to refuse such a irresistible offer? You could only imagine how excited they had been at the prospect of having their appetite sated by such a young and handsome man.

You had never been under the illusion that your liaison would evolve into a whirlwind romance worthy of the greatest love songs. Unlike the countless others who had eagerly emptied out their purses just to get a taste of him, you had no plans on taming his wild heart. His love, his feelings—they weren’t what you were after. 

“What’s something you’ve never done before?” you dared to ask, angling your head to peer up at him through your lashes. It was a good angle, one you knew from experience that worked.

“Never done? Well, let’s see...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve never kissed any of them. Properly, on the mouth.”

Your brow raised. You hadn’t expected that answer. Kissing did seem tame in comparison to the exploits he had previously listed. “How come?” 

“It gets too personal, I guess.” Jimin refrained from elaborating any further. Not that he needed to—you could tell from the way he skirted around the question that kissing meant more to him than he would rather let on.  

Immediately, you knew what you wanted. 

“You said that you’d give me anything I ask for.”

Jimin wasn’t dumb; he quickly caught on.

“You want me to kiss you.” He tilted his head, a strange glint in his eyes. They flickered down to your mouth for the briefest of moments.

Your heart raced. A wary expression had crossed his face. Like he was finally seeing you differently—not as another conquest who would eat out of his hand and bend over backwards just to spend some time by his side, but acknowledging you as an equal who set her own terms and played by her own rules. A player, not a pawn.

Soon, the cautious attitude was replaced with excitement. Like the idea of playing a new game excited him.

"And what do I get in return?"

You blinked. Of course. It had been silly of you to think he'd give it up for free.

"What do you want?" You hadn't thought very far and your mind raced as it tried to find a suitable method of compensation. Expensive wristwatches, art work...

"I don't want anything you'd be willing to give anyone else." Jimin cut in, interrupting your inner musings. "I want something you'd only be willing to give your husband."

How very specific.

"I don't..." you trailed off, lost in thought. There was no time to question the nature of his request, not when your mind was caught up trying to find something, anything, that fit his criteria.

"I'll blow you."

You wet your lips. It was meant to be seductive but you were too nervous to properly pull it off.

Jimin raised a brow in response. It was impossible to tell if the answer was favorable or not, so you rambled on. "I've never... Since we started dating, the only... I've only been intimate with my husband.”

Until recently, was left unsaid. You weren’t sure if Hoseok counted. Maybe you should rephrase to avoid misunderstandings.

“I’ve never had... I’ve never sucked anyone else off.” There. Now you weren’t lying. “Even before Yoongi and I dated, I never did it that much. Not because—not because I don't enjoy it, but. I've always been more on the receiving end."

"You're a selfish lover," concluded Jimin, nodding in understanding like he hadn’t expected anything less.

You frowned. "I get that it sounds that way, but it's not! Sex doesn’t boil down to oral."

"Oh, I know," he smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. "I'm intrigued... But who’s to say your oral skills will live up to my standards?"

"As far as I know, no one's left you a 5 star rating for your kissing skills." Huffing, you crossed your arms. In the back of your mind, you knew Jimin was poking fun at you in order to elicit a reaction, but you were too offended to care about how you were playing into his games.

A kiss for a blowjob? If you hadn’t been desperate for the latter, you would have denounced the unfair exchange.

Jimin leaned in, his fingers tilting your chin in the angle he wanted, and studied your face like he was committing your features to memory. He drank in your appearance, down to the flutter of your lashes, the parting of your lips, and the hitch in your breath when he bent his neck to close the distance.

There was something careful about his touch. Unlike the searing intensity behind his gaze, the press of his fingertips against your skin was careful, almost like he was handling glassware. Time seemed to move extremely slowly. He took his time, seemingly content with just cupping your chin between his fingers and admiring you.

For a moment, you thought he'd back out on his offer, not willing to part with the one thing he'd denied the string of conquests who had previously been in your shoes.

When Jimin pressed his lips against yours, you had to fight back the urge to gasp. His earlier demeanor had lulled you into a false sense of security. You had expected him to take his time, kisses gentle and slow-paced. 

There was nothing of the sort—Jimin's kisses were hungry, insistent, and stole the breath out of your lungs with every press of his lips against your own. 

Whenever he let up, you took the opportunity to gasp in a mouthful of air. The lack of oxygen was making your head spin, you vision blurring at the edges. You were slipping down a very slippery slope. The longer his mouth moved against yours, the quicker you felt all reason and sanity abandon you.

Jimin’s control never wavered. There were times when you tried to dictate the pace but he'd pinch your chin to keep you still.

A moan worked its way up your throat when he gave a particular hard suck to your bottom lip. Not knowing what to do with yourself, body overheating with lust, your fingernails dug into his shoulders in a last-ditch bid to ground yourself back to reality. Jimin growled in response, one of his hands tangling itself in your hair to tug at the strands. You stilled immediately, the show of dominance enough to make your body go limp in his hold.

When his tongue finally met yours, licking into your open mouth with fervor, it  wiped your brain clean of all coherency, your mind now blissfully blank. There was only Jimin, only his heat melting against your own, only his scent enveloping you like a warm cocoon you never wanted to break out of. Eventually, though, he had to pull back for air and you almost whined in protest. 

After all, who needed air? What use was breathing when you could be spending that time kissing him instead?

It took a while for the heavy fog to lift. When it did you noted that you were still slightly out of breath, your heartbeat erratic and deafening. Under any normal circumstances, you'd be embarrassed by how effortlessly he had turned your insides to gush.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you craned your neck to look at him properly. You had no time to feel self-conscious, however. Jimin's erotic appearance was much more interesting. 

His lips were swollen a dark pink hue that perfectly complimented the flush high on his cheeks. It was a pretty sight, but nothing comapred to the deep pools of lust that stared back at you. Jimin looked like he could swallow you whole with his stare alone.

Your entire body trembled at the prospect of him carrying out the silent promise. In fear or anticipation—you did not know yet. You had barely survived his kiss. What were you going to do if he had his way with you? Now you understood why Jimin kept himself at an arm's reach from all of his suitors. His touch was lethal, designed and weaponized to make his unsuspecting victims fall deep into trance. Once you got involved with him, there was no coming back out of it the same. He was like a ruthless drug. One hit and that was all it took for your body to become hooked to the feeling. If you had any more, you'd stay addicted for the rest of your life, whether you wanted to or not.

Jimin was dangerous. Even in your prime, you had never been this powerful. The worst part was that he knew it. He wielded his charm with expertise, knew exactly how much to give to make you weak at the knees. You had only had a taste of him and yet your body thrummed with a burning need for more.

Thankfully, his needs mirrored yours. You didn’t have to wait long for him to hoist himself onto the ledge of the pool, the lean muscles of his arms flexing as he dragged his body out of the water with the grace of a panther. In the blink of an eye he had shucked off his sodden swim trunks and placed the wet material under him as a cushion. 

You gulped, feeling almost bashful. It was...a lot to take in. It felt almost wrong to ogle at him now that he was stark naked.  

Unaware of your embarrassment, Jimin puffed out his chest, shameless as ever. With a smirk plastered on his face, he patted his thick thigh and nodded in your direction.

“C’mre.” He spread his knees, cock hanging heavy between his thighs. “Time to be a good host and return the favor.”

You waddled closer before your brain could talk you out of it, mesmerized by the sight in front of you.

Jimin’s dick was—for lack of better terms—pretty. He was thick, not too long or too veiny, and pink at the head. He kept his pubic hair neatly trimmed, the dark patch standing out against golden skin.   

Weeks ago you would have never thought twice about sucking off a man who wasn’t Yoongi. Yet here you were, mouth watering at the prospect of Jimin filling up your mouth. 

You had Yoongi to thank for that. 

For the briefest moment, you let yourself imagine the look on Yoongi’s face if he walked in on you right now. Even if you had an idea, it was hard to predict what his reaction would be...

Jimin’s croon yanked you back to reality. “Let me see what you can do. No hands, sweetheart. Show me what you got.”

The look aimed your way was full of expectation. 

Not one to disappoint, your lips automatically stretched around his girth. You suckled the tip and sighed in contentment as he slowly plumped up against the flat of your tongue

God, you had missed sucking dick. You hadn’t been lying earlier when you had confessed how much you enjoyed it. There was something exhilarating about making a man go putty in your hands—or mouth. No matter how much they thought they had control over the situation, the reality was that you had them by their cock. 

Drool pooled in your mouth, spilling at the corners, but Jimin didn’t seem to mind the mess. If anything, the visual made him impossibly harder. He hummed low in his throat as his heavy erection throbbed on your tongue, and ran a hand over your face to feel the sizable bulge poking your cheek.  

“You look so gorgeous like this, stuffed full from my cock.” He grinned down at you with all the self-satisfaction of someone getting his dick sucked. “Really fucking pretty.”

One of his thumbs traced patterns over your cheekbones and you felt your face warm. The action was almost...sweet. And it most definitely felt out of place in this context.

The tender moment was broken the instant his length hit the back of your throat. You gagged, the choked sound loud enough to drown out his deep groan of appreciation. 

It was with great reluctance that he let you pull back to catch your breath. You coughed, slightly embarrassed that you were so out of form.

He reached out to break the thin string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his weeping cock. He smoothed his coated fingers over your lips, smearing the excess saliva and his precum all over your mouth and cheeks with the focus of a painter hard at work.

The sight made his lower belly sing with satisfaction. And still, he wanted more.

Jimin took a minute to appreciate your less than perfect appearance. He was so used to seeing you with perfectly applied lipstick and coiffed hair, that seeing you so disheveled made something in his stomach kick. His thoughts ran wild. He was hit with a primal desire to ruin you, mark you up and leave the imprint of his dick in your throat so you’d remember him long after this was over.

“Wanna see you choke yourself on my cock,” he grunted, his member twitching at the thought. “Think you can do that for me?” 

Instead of a verbal reply, you leaned it to plant a kiss on the flushed head of his erection, kissing down his hard length until your mouth reached the base of it. When you looked up, his gaze was darker than the night skies. 

A shudder ran through your body, from the crown of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes.  He never broke his gaze, the weight of it pressing down on you like a security blanket.

When you took one of his balls into your mouth, wet and messy just like you suspected he liked it, his hands shot up to rake through your hair. They pulled at the strands but not hard enough to stop you. Conflict warred on his face, unsure if he wanted you stop or not.

“You’re fucking nasty,” he rasped when you gave a particular hard suck, your cheeks hollowing around his sack. “I love it. Who would’ve fucking thought that I’d land such a good slut?”

Your moan was muffled, slightly distorted, but he heard it all the same. His eyes curved into crescents. “You like that, huh?”

He abandoned the grip he had on your hair in order to enclose his fingers around his length instead.

“Show me your tongue. Yeah, like that.” He bit down on his bottom lip when you flawlessly executed his command. Jimin kept you like that for a while, your tongue hanging out and waiting on him like an obedient dog. He seemed in no hurry to get the show on the road, content with observing while he fisted his cock in lazy strokes. It was humiliating but your core had never felt this on fire.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and threatened to overflow. Just when it started to trickle down the sides of your open mouth, Jimin fed you his meaty cock as a reward.

“Now show me what a good slut is capable of.”

It was all the motivation you needed to take him as deep as your throat allowed. Your throat, unaccustomed to the stretch and burn, had difficulty adjusting. Patiently, Jimin let you to take all the time you needed. Determined to perform well, you worked on his cock until he was all you could taste and smell. 

Jimin was a lot more vocal than what you had imagined. It was a pleasant surprise. Guys usually held back - refused to give up that semblance of control - but Jimin’s ego was far from fragile. Whenever you swallowed he sucked in a quick breath of air, and when the muscles in your throat clamped down around his length he hissed out deep groans, their low timbre sending shivers down your back.

You paid close attention to his reactions and cataloged them. And that feeling - of having to learn someone’s ticks - was one that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. 

Maybe if the circumstances had permitted it, you would have explored that feeling, questioned what it meant and why you enjoyed it. As it was, you were valiantly trying not to make unattractive whale sounds every time Jimin’s fat cock jabbed the back of your throat.

It seemed like ages before your throat finally relaxed enough to take him all the way down to the hilt. Jimin kept a firm hand on top of your head, not exerting enough pressure to lock you in place, but the implication was there. 

“Fuck.” His balls ached, feeling like they were about to burst. The closer he approached climax, the more his tongue ran loose. “You take it so good, make me feel so fucking good. Choke on my fat cock—just like that. A little longer, c’mon, I know you can take it. Good girl. God, you’re so—oh fuck!”

The muscles in the back of your throat had closed up and you gagged from lack of air. Eyes glassy from unshed tears, you struggled to not clamp down your teeth on his dick as your body was pushed to its limits. Only Jimin’s moans of ecstasy kept you from pulling back too soon—that and the deathly tight grip in your hair.

“Your mouth should be illegal.” Mercifully he let you catch your breath. The respite was brief. Your lungs burned but you had no time to do anything about it before he used the grip in your hair to slam you back down his length. 

If you had been able to set the pace before, there was no possibility of that now. Jimin used your mouth like he was paying for it, his rhythm fast-paced and erratic. The rough treatment should have provoked objection and a litany of protests but to your shame and surprise, there was not a fiber in your body that wanted to stop.

You knew that Jimin was nearing his end long before he announced it. He tried to keep the shakiness out of his voice, but there was no hiding the signs of his impending orgasm.

Jimin hissed out a few last obscenities, his tongue stumbling to get out the words as his entire body tensed up like a volcano about to erupt. “Better swallow it all, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to dirty the pool I worked so hard to clean, now would you? That wouldn’t be very nice…”

You sucked harder in reply, your tongue pressed up against a sensitive vein near the head of his dick. The hold on your hair tightened and he groaned in ecstasy, pleasure wracking his entire frame. “’Atta girl. You’re gonna take me right down your throat. Gonna show me how well you take it? Prove to me that you’re a good girl ‘til the end, hnn?”

Bitterness coated your tongue before he could finish formulating his question. It flooded your mouth in thick spurts.

Yoongi had always claimed that your greed was boundless when it came to cum. You were only proving his words to be true by swallowing everything down in large gulps. It was a bit on the depraved side—you knew some of your friends wouldn’t swallow semen even if they got paid millions for it—but you loved it. You sucked him down until you were certain that he had nothing left to give you.

“So fucking greedy.” Jimin huffed out a laugh and eased you off when the stimulation became too painful to bear. “Knew the moment I met you that you were just gagging for a taste. Look at you… Don’t even need to tell you to clean me off.”

Now that you were no longer caught up in the moment, it was easier to think straight. Arousal still pulsed between your legs but it had been dulled, no longer screaming for attention. 

“My husband taught me well.”

Jimin raised a brow, mouth splitting into a grin. “Maybe I should thank him.”

“That would be the polite thing to do.” Would it? What protocol should be followed after face-fucking your boss’s wife? “Though I think Yoongi should be the one thanking you.”

“Hmm.” Jimin chose not to question. Less questions, meant less involvement and he hadn’t been lying when he had said that he liked to keep his distance. Even without the questions, Jimin was perceptive enough to pick up on the unsaid. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “You like him a lot, that elusive husband of yours.”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?” you said, making him pause.

For once, Jimin found himself at a loss for words.

There was something disconcerting about your smirk that had his stomach twisting in knots. It was not the look he expected to see. Instead of the residual yearning and disappointment, there was nothing but satisfaction written on your face. It bothered him for a reason he could not quite grasp.

Without really knowing how or why, Jimin's instincts told him that he had been played at his own game.

.

.

{MONDAY. 10.32 am}

.

“It’s today, isn’t?” 

You kept the phone pressed close to your ear by raising your shoulder into an exaggerated shrug. Your hands were otherwise occupied, one of them taking out a hair roller, the other applying a deep red color onto the soft pillow of your lips.

It was hard work—one wrong move would stain the skin around your mouth. On any other day, you wouldn’t dare rush, but today there was no time to erase and reapply. You were on a tight schedule. Luckily for you, you had the art of multitasking down to a T.

On the other side of the line, Bogum replied to your inquiry. You hummed in a distracted manner, too busy observing your reflection for any imperfections.

Satisfied with your handwork, you smacked your lips together. Red was the perfect choice. Femme fatales like Marilyn and Brigitte would be proud.

“He left so early this morning I wasn’t even able to wish him luck. Do you happen to know when he’ll be done? He won’t be home before... Ah - I see. Okay, yes, of course I will. No, that’ll be all, thank you Mr. Park. I will, thank you. Have a nice day.” 

After casting one last pleased once-over at your reflection in the vanity mirror, you made your way to the conservatory with all the smugness of someone who knew that they were in for the fuck of their life.

And there was no better candidate for the job than Kim Seokjin. 

Equipped with model-like proportions and a face that belonged on the silver screen, he was the epitome of beauty. Renaissance artists would have begged on their knees to replicate his good looks on canvas. You knew, however, just by looking at his perfectly symmetrical features, that someone as physically perfect as Kim Seokjin was incapable of being duplicated. Renowned and prestigious painters would have struggled to capture the aura he radiated, their painted renditions crude imitations of the real thing.

His presence alone inspired adulation. With that kind of face, it was probably common occurrence that throngs of women - and men - threw themselves reverently at his feet like he was a god and the world was his temple.

In other words—Seokjin was unworldly beautiful. 

...And he also had the ego to match it. 

In that aspect, he reminded you of Jimin. They were both individuals who would never settle for sub-par fucks, even if their lives depended on it. 

Seokjin was well aware of his worth and he probably thought himself deserving of the best. Unlike Jimin, he had no interest in playing games. You knew that with him, there would be no give and take, no push and pull, no ploys of seduction. If he liked what he saw enough, he’d bite. If he didn’t, he’d turn up his nose and move on to the next best thing.

Maybe the past few days had gone to your head, filling you with undeserved confidence, but you were convinced that he wouldn’t turn you down. Not when you had on your fuck-me-heels and a dress you knew for a fact made your ass look fantastic.

You looked fucking good. In the past an outfit like this would have been sufficient incentive for Yoongi to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture and fuck you silly until your legs turned to jello and you forgot what day of the month it was.

If it had once worked on Yoongi – the toughest stone to crack – then Seokjin would most likely break as easily. As monumental as his ego was, Seokjin wasn’t an impenetrable fortress.

Still…you had expected a bit more resistance than the reality you were met with. When you had asked him whether he’d fancy taking a break, your tone unmistakably suggestive, Seokjin had proceeded to ditch the protective gloves and cleaning equipment, not needing to be asked twice, and had promptly followed you into the house with the enthusiasm of a puppy promised a treat.

As soon as you had crossed the threshold, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. Large hands groped whatever handfuls of flesh they were able to reach, zealous in their exploration. You giggled at his blatant impatience. All of your assumptions were proved right—Seokjin was undoubtedly accustomed to getting whatever he wanted, when he wanted. He took without hesitation, his movements bold and unabashed.

You had to physically pull him down the hallway in order to get him to move. If he had his way, he would have probably taken you right there against the wall, too impatient to bother with the removal of clothes.

“In here?” he gawked, his eyes darting around the room in alarm. “You want to fuck on your husband’s bed.”

You huffed out an amused breath. “It’s my bed, too. Where did you expect me to bring you, the rooftop?” 

Seokjin paused, considering. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed around an invisible knot of nerves.

In the background, only the quiet whir of a ceiling fan could be heard. If you listened hard enough, you’d probably be able to hear the conflicting thoughts warring through his mind.

Inwardly, you rolled your eyes. What kind of skewered sense of moral righteousness was this? He was fine fucking his boss’s wife but not in his bed?

Seokjin didn’t take too long to arrive at the same conclusion.

“Alright,” he said, mind made up. Any trace of hesitation had been erased from his eyes, replaced only by fiery resolve. “Let’s get it.”

“I—” you opened your mouth and then closed it. 

You had forgotten what it was like to fuck around with fratboys. It brought you back to a time when the only available guys around you were as vapid as they were handsome. It came without saying that hooking up with the star players on the football team had come with its perks—like their short refractory periods and unbeatable stamina. But all in all, the list of cons had outweighed the pros, and you had come to the conclusion that fifteen minutes of sex with a hot guy wasn’t worth the pain of being bored out of your mind.  

Meeting Yoongi had been a breath of much needed fresh air. You still recalled the elation and excitement of meeting someone so sophisticated and worldly. College kids couldn’t hold a candle to him.

Seokjin bent down and kissed you. 

You had been so engrossed in your thoughts that the feeling of his lips against your own did not register at first. But Seokjin was insistent and refused to be ignored. He worked his mouth against yours, tongue hot and probing the seam of your mouth.

Instinctively, you gave in to his advances, your body responding before your brain had the chance to catch up. His plush lips were soft and tasted slightly of coconut. Most importantly, they were experienced in the art of kissing. Seokjin kissed you fervently, tongue swiping against yours, determined to elicit as many moans as he could from you.

“That’s better,” he said between two pants. “I want you like this.”

You hummed, slightly dazed. “Like what?”

In lieu of an answer, Seokjin cupped your cheek and angled your head to the side so that he could kiss you deeper.

You had no opportunity to demand a verbal reply—not when his mouth kept you otherwise occupied. As the seconds stretched on, you felt yourself go weak in the knees. If it wasn’t for the firm hold he had around your waist, bracing you against his concrete-hard chest, you were certain you’d have already crumpled into an inelegant heap on the floor.

Hours or minutes could have elapsed—you had no clue. It was only when Seokjin pulled up for air that time seemed to regain its true course. You blinked away the spots dotting your vision, the world slowly coming back into focus.

“Yeah, like this,” Seokjin smiled down at you, pleased with what he saw. “I want you like this—thinking only of me, no one else. I’m the only one you’ll ever think of after this, won’t I?”

You cleared your throat, not trusting your voice. Seokjin raised an eyebrow like he expected an answer and you obliged, albeit a bit wobbly. “I’m not sure that’ll be enough to get me to remember you.”

Seokjin laughed. You could feel it rumble in his chest, so loud was his amusement. “You only say that because you haven’t been with a man like me. Once I give it to you, you’ll never think about another cock again.”

You tilted your head as if unconvinced. You had heard variants of the same promise over the years and had learned not to hold anyone to their word.

“What do you need?” Seokjin cajoled. “Tell me what you need from me and I’ll give it to you, babygirl.”

“I need a cock in me.” The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable.  

He exhaled sharply, not expecting you to be so blunt. “Fuck, okay.”

One of his hands reached down for the silver buckle of his belt but the nervous buzz thrumming through his body made him clumsy. After a few seconds of fumbling with the button of his jeans, you joined in to help. His impatience seemed to have rubbed off on you because you found that you had no use for unnecessary prolongations. As crude as the thought was, you needed to be fucked. Preferably sooner than later.

“Shit.” His jaw clenched just as your hand squeezed around his length. 

“You’re so big, what the fuck.” You palmed his girth once again, just to confirm your initial assessment. And—yep. He was fucking packing. 

So he really had hit the genetic jackpot. Huh, you intoned, not really surprised by the discovery. Some people really did have all the luck in the world.

You fell to your knees unceremoniously. The polished floorboards dug into your shins but you were quick to dismiss the discomfort, too taken by the sizable length in front of your face. It wasn’t impressively thick, but the length was just right. Your thighs tightened as you imagined how well it could fill you up.

Impatience got the best of you and you spit into your palm, too lazy to go grab the lube from the bedside table. You used both hands to work his member to stiffness, occasionally leaning forward to spit onto his growing erection, the excess saliva easing the glide of skin on skin.

“Fuck, keep going. Get me ready to fuck you.” The sound of his voice made you glance up for the first time.

From this angle, Seokjin positively towered above you.

God, you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.

Lust pumped through your veins, warming you from the inside out. Seeing him so affected made you re-double your efforts. The only thought crossing your mind right then was how much you wanted to see him to fall apart.

You twisted your hand with every upstroke, paying extra attention to the sensitive underside near the head of his cock. Every time you let your thumb stroke that particular area, Seokjin’s hips thrust forward of their own accord, a muffled groan of satisfaction making its way past his lips before he could swallow them down.

As much as he tried to appear unaffected, you could tell that he was slowly but surely being worn down. His hands balled into fists at his sides, nails digging white crescents onto the surface of his skin in an attempt to reign in his raging desires.

When you reached down to play with his balls, Seokjin decided that he had had enough.

Yanking you up by the arm, he manhandled you onto the bed, lifting you around like you weighed next to nothing. The perfectly ironed Egyptian cotton sheets crinkled under your weight but you couldn’t care less. By the end of the night, those wrinkles would be the least of your concerns.

“You sure about this, right?” He asked while kicking his pants and briefs all the way off. The rest of his clothes followed suit, and you gulped audibly as he revealed his broad shoulders, chiseled chest and slim waist in all their glorious nakedness. “Once I start I won’t hold back… And I’m not sure you’re ready for the fuck of your life.”

“Yes! I need a cock so bad. Please.”

Ignoring your whiny pleas, he bent his torso over the edge of the bed, blindly searching through the discarded clothes piled up on the floor.

“Condom. Where the fuck did I—Aha!” He grinned triumphantly when he found the foil packet in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I don’t need it,” you cut in before he ripped it open. “I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Wha— Are you serious?” Momentarily stunned, he gaped down at you, condom wrapper still clutched between his fingers. “You want me to raw you.”

His crude phrasing made you squirm. “I like the feeling of cum in my pussy…” You felt your cheeks flame at the confession. “If you’re clean then please don’t use it.”

Seokjin chewed his bottom lip, visibly lost in thought.

“Please? Want to feel you fill me to the brim.” His eyes flashed. You knew you had him, then. 

When he spoke next, it was more out courtesy than due to indecisiveness. “What about Mr. Min?”

“What about me?” a familiar voice cut through the air.

You both startled, heads whipping towards the doorway. Except, unlike you, Seokjin recoiled, stumbling back like he had been burnt by a hot iron, his hands seizing the nearest pillow to cover up his modesty. From an outside perspective it must have been quite the sight.

“Oh please don’t stop on my account. Keep going, we were just getting to the good part,” Yoongi said coolly as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was still in his work clothes but had lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way. His white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and your eyes were instantly drawn to his arms. One of the corners of his mouth twitched when he took note of your interest but his face remained otherwise blank, giving nothing away.

“W-what?” Seokjin gulped, any of his earlier bravado gone.

"Did I stutter?" Yoongi’s tone was monotone, almost bored. But his eyes—they told a whole different story. They pierced right through you, pinning you in place. Not that there was anywhere else you'd rather be than here, right now, with him, in this bedroom. You had been waiting for this moment for so long that the anticipation was killing you.

His cold gaze slid back over to Seokjin as he silently seized him up. "Well? Didn't I hear you say you were going to give my wife 'the fuck of her life'?" Yoongi's words were twisted with sarcasm. It was evident that he was looking down on Seokjin, his tone nothing but straight up condescending.

The way they talked about you like you weren’t even in the room should have been off-putting but for now you preferred to watch the scene unfold without interfering. There would be plenty of time to play later.

"What? Can't put your money where your mouth is?" Yoongi scoffed and leaned back against the wooden doorframe, feigning disappointment.

Seokjin bristled, deeply offended.

Internally, it dawned on you that this might be the first time someone had so openly challenged Seokjin. You knew guys like him—they were used to getting their way, used to being showered in constant praise, used to people coming back and begging for seconds, so thirsty for more they’d settle for scraps. Yoongi contempt had probably knocked Seokjin out of his orbit, rattling the latter to the core.

"You think I can't pleasure her?" he dared ask, eyebrows inflexed. His attempt at intimidation would have been more efficient had he not been the only one naked, you observed from the sidelines.

"Go on." Yoongi waved his hand, looking like he couldn't care less. "I'd like to see you try."

The clear disregard made Seokjin's jaw tick. His heavy brow furrowed. For the first time since Yoongi's presence was made known, Seokjin rounded on you, his normally honey brown irises now a murky, indescribable color. 

You shuddered, high on the feeling of being the subject of both of their attention. 

The air crackled with electricity, the tension escalating by the second, and you realized that playtime had arrived faster than anticipated. 

Seokjin approached you, much like a lion stalking his prey. You couldn't help but notice the determined glint in his eye, the confidence he wore unfailingly till the end. In his mind, he was going to win. He had no doubt about it. You were going to bend to his will and cum hard on his tongue just like the countless others had before you.

You almost felt bad for him. 

Maybe... Maybe if you had met him years ago, things would have gone exactly like how Seokjin pictured it in his head. But what he failed to realize was that he was in Yoongi's den, playing by Yoongi's rules.

And your husband? He never started anything he knew he wouldn't be able to finish. That was the business man in him. He measured the risks and calculated the cost before any operation, thus ensuring that he would never be beaten.

It was easy to tell by his relaxed posture that he really did view Seokjin as a non-threat.

You had known, of course, that he had never considered losing as an option. Yoongi had been the one to propose this particular game in the first place, after all. Even if it was a first for the both of you, he must have known that the stakes would always remain in his favor.

“Ready?” The mattress dipped under his weight. Seokjin crawled over you, kneeling so that his legs bracketed yours. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there fifteen minutes ago. He looked like a man with something to prove.

Inadvertently, your gaze flitted back to the doorway, searching for Yoongi’s. You wanted to see his face, needed to see how he’d react to another man touching you. 

“Eyes up here.” Reluctantly, you followed Seokjin’s instructions. He noticed your pout right away. “When I’m through with you, you won’t even remember you’re married.”

Gutsy. Your head turned to catch Yoongi’s reaction but Seokjin stopped you by leaning down to kiss you full on the lips. 

It was a strange feeling. Usually, you shut out the rest of the world, attention solely focused on the pair of lips moving against your own, but instead you felt hyper-aware of every little thing going on around you, ears straining as you tried to figure out what Yoongi was up to. 

Seokjin nipped your swollen lip, unhappy with how your mind kept drifting. You tried to make a more conscious effort and show more interest, running your hands up and down his arms and letting out puffs of air whenever his hands ghosted over a ticklish area of your body.

Now that you had become a more active participant, you had finally begun to appreciate the slow pace Seokjin had built up. Contrary to your expectations, he hadn’t shoved his horse dick into you and hammered away. He took his time with you, making a show out of it. You couldn’t say you disliked it.

Okay, so, admittedly your expectations had been pretty low to begin with... But you were quickly seeing the errors of your ways. And, in your personal opinion, it was always better to be pleasantly surprised than the opposite. 

Yoongi did not share the sentiment.

It was the first time a stranger had been invited into your shared bedroom. Seeing another man settled against the pillows he slept on at night wasn’t a sight he had ever imagined he’d see—let alone enjoy. 

And for a while, he let himself watch without intruding in on the scene, a foreign and inexplicable feeling rooting him to the spot. Yoongi had no name for it but the longer he played spectator, the more intense the emotion became.

Beneath the alien feeling, he detected arousal and although he wasn’t sure what exactly he found exciting about the sight in front of him, a ball of desire coiled tightly at the base of his spine.

Objectively, both of you looked beautiful together. Your words had not done Seokjin’s beauty justice. When he looked at the pair of you intertwined, it was like watching a high quality Hollywood movie. But Yoongi knew that his arousal wasn’t just surface level. It ran deeper than that.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he goaded, needing to confirm his suspicions. “You should get her ready to take cock. She hasn’t been fucked in a while, so she’ll be tight.”

He saw how his words made you squirm and smothered a smirk. He couldn’t wait to deal with you.

When Seokjin looked up to meet his gaze, Yoongi was surprised to see incredulity present in the brown of his eyes.

“Wait.” He swallowed, suddenly losing the confidence he had sported earlier. “Y-you’re actually serious about this?”

Ah. Yoongi suspected that the slow pace hadn’t been because Seokjin had wanted to enjoy his wife, but because he had been waiting for Yoongi to jump in and put a premature end to all of this.  

“Looks like you really were all talk. But what else should I have expected from some college grad student…”

Provoking him into action proved to be too easy. The line of Seokjin’s mouth hardened and he renewed his previous efforts. He grew bolder, hands deliberately reaching for your breasts to squeeze them through the expensive material of your dress.  The kiss became sloppier as well, losing all finesse. From what Yoongi could see, there was less technique, but more tongue and teeth.

Whatever fire Yoongi had lit inside him had made him careless.

Yoongi’s pointed stare never strayed. As if sensing the scrutiny directed his way, Seokjin fumbled with his movements, eager to prove but too frenzied to actually accomplish anything.  

By the looks of it, he wouldn’t be able to find your clitoris even it was drawn on a map with the step by step instructions attached. Yoongi would find the whole situation laughable if he wasn’t so affronted on your behalf.

“Do you know how to fuck a woman or not?” he spat out, exasperated.

“Just a minute, I’m—”

“Here’s what you’re going to do,” Yoongi interrupted, his curt tone leaving no room for argument. He loosened up his tie with one hand as he continued, voice sharp, “Go sit up by the headboard and don’t even think of moving. That means no touching your dick, either.”

There was a tense moment of silence as Seokjin gaped at him, his eyes wide as he tried to quickly process the rapid turn of events. 

"I won't force you to stay. It's your call. But if you choose to play with us, you're abiding by my rules." 

Seokjin looked like he wanted to argue and put up a fight and for half a second, you really thought that he would.  Yoongi took his silence as a favorable answer, certain that the younger man wouldn't leave.

“I’m feeling generous tonight so I’ll let you watch. You can think of it as a learning experience. I’ll even show you how to make my slut soak the sheets.” A smile curved his lips, taunting. “And maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you lick it up. How’s that sound?”

Yoongi raised his brow in challenge and that was all it took for Seokjin to slowly make his way to the edge of the bed, his back hitting the mahogany wood with a dull thud.

Yoongi liked to think he was a reasonable man. 

He was fine with a lot of things—you maxing out his credit cards on ridiculously expensive items of clothing that you never wore more than once, you taking out his newest car for a spin in the big city without permission, you spending an extra thirty minutes on your hair and makeup when he was running late for a dinner function.

What he was not okay with, however, was you sharing your pussy with barely-out-of-college boys who were incapable of going five seconds without creaming their pants.

No, that was where he drew the line.

You were a woman with standards. You had married him, not some pretty-faced fratboy, had you not? If that wasn’t sufficient proof, then what was?

As vain and prideful as it sounded, Yoongi refused to be put on the same level of the other men who chased after you. Unlike those men who salivated over you like a piece of quality meat, he knew exactly what you wanted and what you needed.

In the bedroom, a voice in the back of his mind corrected. You only know what she wants in the bedroom.

Yoongi swallowed, forcing the sudden feeling of inadequacy down his throat. He had failed you on that end. Old habits were hard to kill and he had learned of the consequences the hard way.

It had always been like that. Even as a kid, Yoongi liked rationality and reasoning, preferring numbers to the abstract. Equations had solutions, emotions did not. Before he had met you, every little thing he did had answered logic’s call. He woke up because he had to get to work. He ate because his body needed the energy to survive.

He was so used to fending for himself, of thinking of himself as a unit, that sometimes he forgot that his actions affected others as well. In retrospect, his lack of empathy had most likely been the root of the reason why all of his previous relationships had failed miserably.

People had never stayed long enough to work the issues out. Maybe they figured that he was too anchored in his habits to change or too emotionless to understand. There was also the financial imbalance that factored in and despite Yoongi’s verbal reassurances, none of it had helped. It was…uncomfortable, to say the least. His previous partners had never dared voice out their concerns and worries and Yoongi hated it, hated feeling like he was using his money to keep people in his life, no matter how miserable they clearly felt on the inside.

With you, it was different.

Yoongi reached the foot of the bed and met your honest gaze. Something squeezed his heart tightly and refused to let go. Despite all his flaws, you had stayed. Not out of obligation or monetary obsession—but out of love.

Love…was hard to define. Every time he thought he knew what it meant, it turned out he didn’t. But as he stood there with you finally at an arm’s reach, he thought he felt the emotion beating against his rib cage, making a home in his chest.

“Yoongi.” Your fingers twitched at your side, like they wanted to reach out for him but weren’t sure if they were allowed to.

When he draped himself over your body and interlaced his fingers with yours, it was as if something inside him finally locked into place.  

“My love.” Your pulse jumped at the term of endearment. He liked using it ever since you had let slip that none of your previous lovers had ever called you that way. Even if you had initially complained that it made him sound like a fifty year old man, he knew you enjoyed it by the way your body never failed to respond. “I’ve made you wait long enough.”

He meant it in more ways than one. Yoongi was ready to give you everything, body and soul. He belonged to you.

“Are you going to do something about it?” You held your breath and waited for his answer, anticipation turning you into a squirming mess against the sheets.

“This dress brings back many memories,” he said instead, pointer finger tracing down the line of your cleavage. From this distance, Yoongi could count every single beauty mark that speckled your skin. His memory supplied images of himself licking and connecting each dot, the hot drag of his tongue leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. His mouth hungered for a taste but Yoongi curbed the desire before it had the chance to cloud his judgment. “Although I thought I had ruined it beyond saving a long time ago.”

“Your black card bought me a new one.”

Yoongi snorted, the unrefined sound breaking his cool façade. “Let’s get it off you. As much as I adore it, it looks better on the ground.”

“Take what’s yours.”

Yoongi wasted not a second more, the hurried movements of his hands conveying his burning arousal. With deft fingers, he found the zipper of your dress and pulled, watching with satisfaction as inch after inch of naked skin was exposed.

“Naughty slut.” His eyes narrowed as he admired your exposed body. Yoongi forced himself to keep his hands still at his sides even though he was dying to relieve his painful erection from the tight confines of his briefs. “Are you always bare under your clothes?”

“The lines…” you mumbled and trailed off. “My dress is so tight that my bra and panties show if I wear any.”

Yoongi scoffed, forcing his eyebrows into an expression of disbelief. “So you’re not okay with strangers seeing the outline of your thong, but fine with them ogling your hard nipples? Why? That desperate for them to know what a horny wife I have?”

“I wouldn’t be this horny if you fucked me more often.” You glared.

A beat of silence passed before Yoongi unlocked his jaw. “We’ll have to do something about that mouth later. Seems like a lesson on manners is in order.”

“Counting on it, sir,” was your cheeky answer.

Yoongi’s hand came down with a crack. He watched as your whole body jolted from the impact. “Hands and knees. No, the other way. Face our guest. Since you like showing off your tits so much, here’s another perfect opportunity to do so.”

In your haste to follow his orders, you stumbled several times, knees knocking together as you readjusted yourself to his whims. Without needing to be told, you spread out your legs and arched your back, leaving the most intimate parts of you completely exposed for his viewing pleasure. If he wanted to take you right then, there was nothing stopping him from doing so.

Seokjin was all but forgotten at this point. He could have left the room and Yoongi wouldn’t have noticed—or cared. His vision had tunneled, his entire world narrowed down to the sight of you presenting yourself just like a good whore should. It seemed like you were equally affected, if not more. Yoongi spread your cheeks so that he could fully appreciate the view of your drenched pussy. If he had ever doubted your arousal, your slick thighs, shiny with your juices, and swollen lips were enough proof to dispel such uncertainties.

“You’re all mine to take,” he said in a soft growl.

He knelt behind you and ran his hands up the back of your sticky thighs. This position left him at the perfect height to eat you out. His mouth watered at the prospect of finally having his fill. Too long had he deprived himself of a delicious meal… It was time to fix that.

You moaned the instant his finger came into contact with your rapidly hardening clit. Your feeble attempts at shoving your hips back for more were thwarted by Yoongi's strong grip on your thigh, the rough pads of his fingertips bruising the soft skin in warning. It took a herculean effort to keep still but you somehow managed, knowing that your obedience would pay off.

Yoongi liked to enjoy his meals. He took his time with you, playing with the abundance of wetness that had collected between your thighs, dragging his digits across your velvety folds.

He loved taking you this way. With you offered up to him ass up and legs spread, he could really get into it, mouth and hands dictating the pace without your interference. There was nothing you could do save for holding open your cheeks and plead for more.

Sometimes—when he felt merciful—he indulged you. But he could not deny that there was something infinitely more satisfying when he drew out your pleasure until you shook and cried with need.

“Mhmm.” His groan echoed yours as he slid in his ring finger into your hot cunt. You were so aroused that the stretch could hardly be felt. “Snug and wet. S’gonna be a tight fit when I open you up with my cock later.”

The unspoken promise of cock made your walls squeeze around his finger and Yoongi groaned again  as he imagined how amazing you’d feel around his painful erection instead of his hand.

For now, he pushed the ache aside. The only one that mattered right now was you.

He flattened his tongue and let it drag across your folds, moaning as the taste of you flooded his mouth.  Fuck. It wasn’t enough, he thought frantically. As he continued to lick into you like a man starved, he wondered how he could ever possibly tire of your taste. How he had managed to stay away from it all this time was a mystery he had yet to solve.

Your cries of pleasure grew louder as his tongue fucked into you, sampling the snugness of your walls for what would come later. Wetness dripped down his chin but he could care less about the mess you made. He kept licking it up, not wanting to stop for a single second, only pulling off whenever his lungs burned from lack of air.

Attuned to your body and its needs, he felt every tremor and hitch of breath. Whenever he sensed your heart rate kick up, he slowed down and changed the tempo. He kept you on the edge like that for several long minutes, building you up only to bring you back to zero.  

Finally, he pulled back, ignoring the betrayed cry he ripped from your throat, and wiped the shine off his chin with the back of his hand. The taste of you was still heavy on his tongue and he couldn’t help but lick his lips clean in satisfaction. Nothing pleased him more than feasting between your legs and it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t missed it terribly. 

A creak of the mattress distracted him. Seokjin shifted uncomfortably, his erection prominent. By the looks of it, he had been hard for a rather long time. Yoongi was pleased to see that Seokjin had stayed true to his word—his hands were obediently shoved under the meat of his thighs to prevent himself from touching himself.

Yoongi had been so focused on the five-star meal nestled between your thighs that he had forgotten his manners. 

“Darling, it’s time to show our guest what a lovely host you are.” He punctured his command with a sharp swat to your ass.

You stumbled forward but looked back at him for guidance. “How—?”

“Don’t think I forgot how well you begged for cock earlier,” he reminded you. “You still desperate for it?”

“Want,” you shook your head, confused. “Want yours.”

The features of his face softened. “You’ll get mine soon enough. But you know only good sluts get my cock and I still need some convincing.”

“I’m good,” you insisted, your lips pursed into a pout.

He raised his brow and tilted his head.

Squinting your eyes defiantly, you crawled over to Seokjin and begged, shameless and past the point of caring about modesty. “Please fuck my face.”

“Is that—?” Seokjin gulped, looking down at you with worried eyes. “Will you be okay?”  

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” A wicked grin played at Yoongi’s lips. “I’ve cock trained her to take it like a good slut should.”

The unabashed moan his words provoked was all it took for Seokjin to know that you were fully on board with him fucking your face. His eyes widened imperceptibly at how shameless you looked, mouth open with your tongue out, panting for his hardened length down your throat like a bitch in heat. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing the base of his cock to keep himself together.

Your lewd display seemed to amuse Yoongi to no end. 

“Look, she’s hungry for it. Don’t keep her waiting, she’s been good.”

Seokjin gave in. No matter what others believed, he was only human. All men had their limits and Seokjin’s self-restraint had been tested too many times today to count. He fed you his cock, slipping inch after inch into your hot mouth.

His groan of appreciation vibrated deep in his chest and he tipped his head back as the feeling of your mouth momentarily overwhelmed him.

It didn’t take long for him to get lost in the feeling. Although he had had his reservations about the entire thing, Seokjin stopped holding back once he saw how enthusiastic you were. You sucked his cock, working him down even if it was obvious his sizeable length wasn’t making it easy.

“Force it down,” instructed Yoongi.

Seokjin jumped, his eyes flying open as he remembered the older man’s presence. Your mouth was so good he had erased everything else in the room.

“What?”

“She won’t be able to take it in her throat unless you help her.” Yoongi observed with almost clinical detachment. Seokjin took a moment to admire the man’s calm and collected attitude. The moment dissipated quickly, however. Your tongue had started doing things to the head of his cock that had him biting down whines of pleasure.

You laughed around his dick when he failed to suppress one of them. Seokjin’s erection twitched as the vibrations teased him further and he groaned out a few creative expletives that had you giggling harder.

His hips kicked up of their own accord, making you gag loudly as his length reached the back of your throat. Seokjin almost apologized but you dug your nails into the meat of his ass and signaled him to do it again.

He swore again and fucked into your mouth slowly at first but once he saw you could take it, started building a pace. “Holy s-shit. I’m going to blow my load soon, fucking fuck.”

That only seemed to strengthen your determination. You got even tighter around him, almost like you were trying to milk the cum out of his dick with your mouth.

Yoongi approached with the stealth of a cat, making sure not to startle you when you had a cock buried in your throat. Seokjin glanced up and was glad to see that the man wasn’t wholly unaffected. Compared to when he had first met him, Yoongi looked a lot less composed. His once perfectly ironed button-down was now wrinkled, his tie loosened and crooked. And then there was his cock—hard and leaking.

Seokjin’s balls tightened and he blinked through the haze, not knowing why he was so turned on by being watched. Yoongi kept the grip on his dick loose, his strokes lazy and unhurried. Next to him, Seokjin felt like he was about a minute or two away from nutting down your throat.

“Want to know why she’s so desperate for your cum?” The way he said it—like he was imparting a guarded secret—made Seokjin look up at him through heavy lids. Every so often his lids would droop close, attention wavering with every lick of your wicked tongue.

Yoongi leaned in so close that his breath tickled the side of his neck. “It’s because she knows that it’s the only way I’ll give her what she’s been so desperately craving all this time—my fat cock fucking her pussy.”

Seokjin was unsure who the words were truly aimed at. You reacted like they had been whispered for your benefit, moaning without reserve around his dick. 

"She's so cock hungry she was willing to seduce handsome pool boys if it meant that she'd get fucked by me. Reward the slut. Cum, now."

“Oh fuck!” Seokjin threw his head back as he felt his balls empty themselves. The muscles in his thighs quivered and his knees threatened to give out. “What the fuck. I haven’t cum this hard in months.”

His chest heaved as he got his heartbeat under control. When he was finally capable of breathing normally, he chanced a glace down at you and swore his heart stopped for a nanosecond.

Yoongi had pried your mouth open with his fingers, examining the insides of your mouth. The sight was…obscene. Straight out of a porno. Seokjin’s stomach tightened as he observed the scene in front of him, feeling his spent dick twitch in interest despite the recent mind-numbing orgasm.

“Good girl,” praised Yoongi and even to Seokjin’s ears, he sounded proud of his wife’s achievements. “Spit.”

He motioned at his raging boner. “Get me ready to fuck you. With how long it’s been, you’re going to need all the lube you can get.”

Visibly excited at the prospect of finally getting your husband’s cock, you obliged, gathering all the cum in your mouth and letting it drip down his erect length in globs of white. Seokjin had never experimented with cumplay and didn’t know if the sight aroused or disgusted him.

“Mhm,” Yoongi grunted as he slicked up his dick, coating the entirety of it in another man’s cum. The sound of each stroke rang out loudly in the otherwise quiet room, the sound lewd and wet.

“Please fuck me now,” you pleaded, hands clasped in your lap and knees still tucked under you from earlier. The position and sweet tone made you appear demure—but by now Seokjin knew better. “You promised.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He smiled wide enough for creases to appear near his eyes. “Time to give you what you worked so hard for.”

Yoongi didn’t wait for a reply—not that he had been expecting one in the first place. He pushed you back until your back hit the mattress and crawled over you, pinning you to the bed with his weight.

He kept his eyes level with yours as he pushed the head of his cock into you. The stretch was slow but he refused to go faster, ignoring your noises of encouragement. Despite his earlier rough treatment, he had no interest in inflicting this kind of pain. He kept his hips still, not giving in to his instincts, and waited until you had completely adjusted before finally moving again.  

Your moan sounded more genuine this time. It was enough to convince Yoongi that you were ready for more. “You always let out the prettiest sounds for me.”

He pulled out all the way only to slam back in, the intrusion earning him a throaty moan, louder than the last. Grinning, he kept up the slow yet deep thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every rock of his hips into yours.

Yoongi felt the best kind of dizzy, like he had smoked a blunt right before sliding into your cunt. There were only two instances where he felt this invincible and on top of the world. One, whenever he fucked your sweet pussy as he pleased. Two, when he had secured a multi-million dollar deal. Luckily for him, he had checked both boxes today. The adrenaline high he had gotten this morning at the office still ran through his veins and only fueled his desire to fuck you harder and drive your body into the mattress.

Unfortunately, he had been pent up for so long that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to give it to you like you deserved. He had been hard for God knew how long… And hadn’t had sex in almost two whole months. No wonder he felt his control slipping much faster than usual.

“Missed your cock so much,” you sobbed, hiccuping as he drove into you harder. “Thought about it every night.

“I promise I’ll never keep it away from you this long ever again.”

“Good.” Your lashes fluttered as he ground his hips into yours, pelvis rubbing against your needy clit. “Ah!”

Yoongi’s rhythm stuttered as he adjusted your legs, throwing one over his shoulder in order to reach deeper. “Missed this tight cunt. Craved it so much, I dreamt of it. Imagined you bouncing on my lap during those board meetings, bending you over the conference table and taking you in front of all of my associates. I’d let them watch, let them watch you take my cock from behind like a filthy whore.”

He abandoned his deep thrusting for quicker, shallow strokes. “Fuck, I can feel you tighten. You going to cum all over my cock for me? Did you like the idea of me fucking you in a room full of people that much?”

Yoongi’s groan of pleasure was drowned out by your scream of ecstasy. The way you clenched down like a vice was almost enough to destroy the last of his control. He gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he drove into you even deeper, determined to see you fall apart one last time.

Knowing that it wouldn’t take many more thrusts before he’d be pushed over the edge, he reached down between your legs to rub at your clit. You thrashed under him, over stimulated but forced to take it. If it wasn’t for his firm grip on your legs, you would have tried to buck him off.

“Ah, Yoongi! Yoongi, I’m—” You sucked in a gulp of air as your eyes rolled back. “Oh God!”

“That’s right. Cream my cock, slut,” he hissed, his shirt sticking to him uncomfortably. His fringe was matted with sweat, but he couldn’t push it out of his face, not now, not when he was so fucking close.

His thumb flicked over your clit in rough circles, knowing exactly what you needed to be pushed over the edge.

It seemed to do the trick—seconds later and he felt you break into a violent climax, pussy gushing all over his cock and muscles clamping down on him with every contraction.

Yoongi could hold it back no longer. His last thrusts were quick and rough, cock throbbing painfully as he chased his end. Hips slamming into yours, he snarled between clenched teeth, “You better take it all.”

He thought he felt your pussy throb around him as he released himself inside you, cum spurting so deep he was sure he’d painted your cervix white.

For a while, only the whirring of the ceiling fan and the sound of rapid beating of hearts could be heard. Yoongi knew he should probably go clean up and throw his soiled clothes and sheets into the hamper, but his muscles had gone lax and refused to cooperate.

You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. He cracked open an eye when he heard you clear your throat.  

“So? Threesome? How did we feel about that?”

“Are you asking me?” Seokjin asked incredulously and Yoongi finally remembered there was an extra presence on their bed. When you shrugged then nodded, Seokjin snorted. “Do you always conduct polls after sex?”

Yoongi was similarly unimpressed. “No one else can make you cum as hard as I do. Remember that.”

.

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“So this is the young man you told me so much about,” drawled Yoongi.

Jungkook’s spine straightened, the man’s low timbre doing things to his insides.

When you had announced that he’d finally be able to meet your husband, Jungkook had readily agreed, looking forward to having his curiosity finally sated.

After one unsuccessful online search, Jungkook had given up on figuring out what kind of man you had married. His imagination had pictured a middle-aged man with a beer belly who occasionally liked to play polo.

Jungkook gulped audibly, realizing he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Of fucking course his boss had to be ridiculously handsome. With his clear skin, delicately shaped nose and lips, and small, sharp eyes that had Jungkook averting his gaze, Mr. Min was so handsome that Jungkook was left bereft of speech.

Unaware of his inner crisis, Yoongi filled the awkward silence with ease. “I believe we’ve exchanged over the phone. You may address me as Yoongi, if you so wish. My wife tells me how hard you work. I wanted to personally thank you for all your efforts. I know it’s not an easy task to work in such weather conditions.”

Oh god. They talked about him. Together.

He cleared his throat. “I’m just doing my job, sir.”

Yoongi held out his hand for him to shake. His hands were so delicate looking that the force behind his grip took Jungkook by surprise. Yoongi’s gaze never strayed, trapping him in place. Jungkook felt like a prey with nowhere to hide.

“It was a pleasure working for the both of you.” He managed without stuttering like a fool. “If ever you need me for anything else, don’t hesitate. I’ve done some gardening before and I’m ok with the odd paint jobs.”

Jungkook bit his lip and ceased his rambling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.”

Yoongi let the corners of his mouth curl into a smirk. He turned towards you as he watched Jungkook gather the rest of his belongings and take his leave. “You’re right. He is cute.”

“I’m always right,” you said in a distracted manner, mind elsewhere.

“You were awfully silent earlier. Hm? Not very polite.” One of his hands squeezed the dip at your waist.

You didn’t bother suppressing your glare. Yoongi merely chuckled, amused by your predicament. “I was otherwise busy.”

“Oh? But don’t you think Jungkookie would’ve enjoyed seeing my cum dripping out of your greedy pussy?” he asked, the lilt in his tone teasing. “He looked absolutely taken with you. Kept admiring your legs—not that I blame him.”

His hands played with the hem of your brazenly short dress, lifting the fabric up your thighs to uncover your naked mound.

“Would’ve been nice to treat him for all his hard work,” he commented as his fingers dipped into your hole to play with the cum he had fucked into you not even an hour ago. “And seeing cum paint your pretty thighs would have been quite the gift.”

“Yo-oongi,” you moaned his name, clenching your core as tightly as you could, not wanting to spill a single drop. “I think, ah, I think he wouldn’t have liked s-seeing your cum go to waste.”

“Is that so?”

“He looked more taken with you than with me,” you said between heavy pants. One of your hands had closed around Yoongi’s wrists in warning—you were still on the front porch for God’s sake there were kids in the neighborhood—but it hadn’t deterred him in the least. On the contrary, his fingers plundered your depths, determined to get you to drench his whole hand.

“Well…” Yoongi smiled, gums on display, as your body shuddered from head to toe. fin

“There’s only one way to test that theory out, isn’t there?”

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