#but hes half naked in a bathing suit

[reshramlove1ob]

A thing before My Sunshine's next chapter is finished

[lovebugism]

shy!reader goes to the pool with Eddie and is too afraid to wear her swimsuit in front of him? Maybe she’s wearing clothes over her bikini/one piece and doesn’t want to undress at first because of her nerves lol

hope u like it! — you still get a little nervous showing your body, but eddie takes it all in stride (shy!fem!r, established relationship, cw for mentions of body insecurity, 1.1k)

Eddie’s rubber flip-flops are much too big on your feet. You fight to keep them on and match his longer strides at the same time. He leads you down the scenic trail of the Harrington vacation home with one hand curled intently around your own. He doesn’t seem phased by the dirt clinging to his bare feet.

“Think Steve’s folks will get mad if we skinny dip?” he jokes over his shoulder, wild curls billowing in the late afternoon wind.

You shrug. “I don’t think they own the lake, so…”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he scoffs.

“Me neither,” you concur with a quiet laugh.

A set of wooden steps lead off the trail and towards the shore. They creak under your weight, ancient and half-eroded with time. Eddie stands beside you on the dock, lips curled into a pink, lopsided smile. “Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em,” he quips before reaching for the hem of his shirt.

You giggle when he lifts the fabric up and over his head. His milky white torso is left on display for you, sprinkled with sparse hair and a couple of faded tattoos. His body is lanky and lean — stomach soft with gentle pudge where his happy trail begins. You couldn’t hide your leering if you wanted to.

“You’re crazy,” you say, still laughing.

“Crazy for you,” the boy croons. 

You watch him reach for the buttons of his jeans, fumbling with them for a moment. Your chest swirls with a strange, hollow feeling. “Wait— Are you serious?” you wonder with wide, glimmering eyes. You’ve never felt totally comfortable swimming in a bathing suit, let alone naked.

Eddie shrugs his freckled shoulders and tugs his jeans down his scruffy thighs. “Yeah. Why not?”

He’s left in his thin, plaid boxers now. He doesn’t seem nearly as fazed by it as you do. Heart thrumming like an anxious hummingbird, your eyes dart over your shoulder and back to him. “What if the others see?!”

“Then let ‘em see,” he chuckles, golden like the early setting sun. “Who cares?”

I care, you almost say, ‘cause you’re too pretty, and I’m not pretty enough. 

You swallow your loathing and instead reply, “Steve would never let you live it down if he caught you out here. You know that.”

Eddie’s bare feet pad against the creaking wooden dock. The sound is mostly drowned out by the waves ebbing and flowing beneath you. Nothing could hide the heavenly sound of his laughter, though. “What? That I’m skinnydipping with the prettiest girl in Indiana?” the boy retorts with a boyish chuckle. “I wouldn’t want him to let me live it down.”

You swallow hard, not swayed by the compliment. Your unsure gaze flits to your feet and the black sandals Eddie lent you on the way down. You see his paler, bare ones come into view just before his calloused palms smooth over your waist — above the oversized t-shirt you wear, which also belongs to the boy in front of you.

“I’m just… I’m just kidding, you know? About the skinnydipping thing,” Eddie assures you, suddenly serious and much quieter with it. His head ducks down to catch your falling gaze. His chocolate eyes sparkle beneath the yellow sun. His lips curl into a lopsided smile. “We don’t have to do it if it makes you uncomfortable. We never have to do anything you don’t want, you know that.”

You purse your lips to the side and think for a moment. You’re not nearly as at ease swimming naked as he is, but you’d be silly to turn down the opportunity to be alone with him. You have spent the entire weekend babysitting, after all.

“Can I keep my bathing suit on?” you wonder sheepishly.

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you can! You can do whatever you want, doll. I’m followin’ your lead here.”

He smacks a kiss to your lips, mouth tasting of nicotine, soda, and strawberries — like nostalgia and springtime.

“Can you turn around?”

Eddie meets your coy look with a wider smile. “Yeah. Sure,” he hums and steps back from you to spin on his heel. You know he’ll see you in your bathing suit before you step foot in the water, but you’ve always felt distinctly smothered by his gaze. You don’t feel half deserving of the adoration always swimming in the deep brown of them.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you know?” he quips without looking at you.

“It’s different,” you insist, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head. You fold it neatly before setting it gingerly on the dock. You’re left in the pretty one-piece you thrifted before the trip — a floral number that dips low at the chest and ties into a bow at the back.

Eddie doesn’t really understand, but he figures he doesn’t have to. He’ll do whatever makes you most comfortable, no questions asked. “Sure,” he nods. “Can I look now?”

You hesitate for a reason you can’t name. You feel more at ease with Eddie than anyone else in the whole wide world — and besides the fact that he’s seen you in much, much less — you shouldn’t be as nervous as you are now.

“Yeah…” you waver.

Eddie peeks at you over his shoulder for a moment before turning to face you fully. His pink lips purse and a low whistle sounds between them. “Damn,” he mumbles.

You fight back a smile and look away from him, wringing your anxious hands into a knot. “Hush…”

“You’re a total smokeshow, baby.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t know why you wanna hide from me so bad…” he teases lowly, gravitating towards you without thinking. His hands are warm and wide as they smooth over your sides. His palms curl around your lower back and idle there, fingers lingering just above your ass. “All I wanna do is look at you, and you won’t even let me…” he jokes, mostly serious, but with a playful pout on his lips.

Your arms cross between your bodies. You glare up at him with pretty doe eyes that swim with all the love you have for him. You couldn’t pretend to be annoyed if you tried. “It’s ‘cause you’re so nice…”

His brows raise and disappear behind his fluffy bangs. “You’re shy because I think you’re hot?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s weird.”

“Maybe,” Eddie laughs. He figures it’s on-brand enough for him, as the resident freak and all. But loving you has never felt unnatural or strange. It feels normal, like an instinct he’s always had, something he’s always been destined to do. So he just tilts his pretty head and smiles sweetly down at you. “Can’t help it, though.”

[uhohdad]

Just a little idea, loser Konig at the beach with reader who is torturing him in the best way (sun screen/ice cream), your work is so so good! Take all the rest/time you need, art/smut this good takes time!

(18+) Beach Day with Loser!König

☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ

Loser!König purposely misses when he swipes for the glob of sunscreen you pointed out on his cheek. He’ll play dumb until you take matters into your own hands, leaning forward to smear it in for him while he peers down your swimsuit. His eyes flutter shut as you touch him so intimately, touch him the way a lover would touch him, cupping his stubbled jaw with your thumb massaging circles into his cheek. When you pull away, he’s more than disappointed, having used this moment to play out a fantasy where you held his jaw steady to plant a kiss on his lips.

Loser!Konig is bright red, and while you assume he’s getting sunburnt, it’s actually because he is more than flustered by your swimsuit. He can’t help the way his eyes are lingering on all of the new skin covered only by dainty straps. The perfect, plush thighs he wants to rest his head on. Soft shoulders and pretty collarbones and cleavage on display for anyone to ogle. He’s memorizing your body to take home with him.

Loser!Konig who can’t keep his eyes off you as you work an ice cream cone, scarfing it down with a greedy tongue before the searing sun turns it to a puddle. He won’t so much as blink, imaging you’re using your flat tongue to lick stripes up his cock instead, sand sticking to your shins and knees as you pleasure him in front of the entire beach right here right now.

Loser!Konig who has to set a folded towel over his lap even though it’s an ungodly hot day, because he’s been straining against the net in his swimtrunks since you stripped down to your bathing suit.

Loser!König who has to bite back a needy whine when you grab a handful of ice from the cooler and rub it on your skin to cool off. His half-lidded, ravenous eyes glued to the melted droplets tracing your curves as they glide down your body. When you let out a breathy, relieved sigh, he swears you’re doing this to him on purpose.

Loser!Konig who chokes on his own spit when you ask him to lather sunscreen on your back after you gave up awkwardly contorting your arms to reach. His breaths are shallow and hands trembling as he watches you pull your hair out of the way. When you slip the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders, his mouth goes dry. From where he’s standing, you might as well be naked from the middle up.

Loser!König who’s pleading with his fingers to steady as he pops the cap to the sunscreen. He doesn’t even bother warming the lotion between his fingers because he’s too eager to get his hands on your glowing, sun-kissed skin. He sucks in a sharp breath as you shudder under his touch. He’s painfully hard and praying you won’t notice as he smooths the sunscreen over you. He goes slow, hoping to stretch a task that should only take a few seconds for as long as he could. Your shoulders are so smooth and soft under his coarse, hardened hands. When he slides down your sides, he pretends that he’s filling you up from behind, gripping on to your core to keep you steady as he pounds into your pretty cunt. He’s breathing so heavily, his heart slamming against his ribcage as he smooths circles over your skin. His cock is throbbing in his shorts, a shiny glint of arousal already forming at the tip.

Loser!Konig who has to sneak off to the filthy boardwalk bathrooms to relieve his aching cock, rutting into his hand and stifling his breathy moans and grunts by biting his lip so hard it nearly bleeds. The show you gave him had him practically on edge, and it takes less than a minute before he’s choking on your name as he coats his hands in his generous, pent-up finish.

☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ ☀︎ ･ ｡ﾟ

loser!könig

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ YOUNG AND INNOCENT

𝝑𝝔 cw : virgin reader, daddy!minho, p in v, mentions of oral, shower sex, overall pretty vanilla!

𝝑𝝔 a/n : miss mocha @yongbun wanted me to @ her !! And also holy shat guys i'm at 900 followers??? that's so insane to me!! I love you all so much :3

It was no secret, you were Lee Know's favorite member. He was never crude to you, mostly because you were one of the only members who never annoyed him.

And you were sweet, the second youngest member in the group who without fail remembered every birthday and anniversary and planned accordingly.

And you were innocent, the fact drove him crazy.

It drove him crazy how you sang Red Lights on stage and you would get embarrassed over it, how you would walk around the dorms in the flimsiest pair of sleep shorts and camisole ever made, how you would blush and get all embarrassed when fans would call you hot or sexy.

It drove him up the walls insane, your innocence. He was patient, for the most part, unless it came to you. He was protective, especially when it came to you.

You always assumed boys never asked you out because of your looks, but little did you know it was really because Lee Know would stare down any man with romantic or sexual intentions who came within a five meter radius of you.

After years of living with men, you had become quite accustomed to seeing male anatomy. Whether it was because the leader of your group was comfortable walking around shirtless, or because you had accidentally walked in on someone in the shower a few times, you became pretty desensitized to seeing naked men.

At first it would embarrass you, but after a while it just became part of life. But these men were your friends and coworkers, so when you would see them without their shirt on honestly it just started to feel like seeing your friends in a bathing suit.

And although you had gotten used to seeing male anatomy, your group mates would gawk and stare every time you showed even the slightest bit of skin. "What are you wearing?" Seungmin gawks when he sees you in your regular pajama shorts and cropped tank top, cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.

"Pajamas?" you retort, not knowing why exactly it would cause him to freak out.

"God, y/n," Seungmin gaffs, "you need to get laid."

You can't help the blush that creeps up onto your face, "w-what?"

"You heard me!" Seungmin persists, "listen, I'm not trying to be rude but you're the only member of the team who is still a virgin."

"So?" you cross your arms, "why is that such a bad thing? And what does this have to do with my pajamas!"

"Because you're twenty-something-years-old and you've never had your first kiss," he explains, "listen, we need to find you a boyfriend or something, only your boyfriend should see you in those kinds of pajamas, half your ass is practically hanging out!"

"I d-don't need a boyfriend," you huff, turning away from him, refocusing on the television.

"Then what is stopping you from y'know getting some?" Seungmin poses.

"W-well g-guys aren't really that y'know, into me?"

"Oh bullshit, I could set you up with someone, one of my friends," Seungmin proposes, "only if you want to."

"I-I mean y-yeah that's fine," you can't help but stutter.

"Good, I'll give him your phone number," Seungmin promises.

You couldn't help but get excited with the idea of going out with a boy. A thought that terrified you as much as it exhilarated you. "Pixie?" you call out to the boy who is currently playing League of Legends on his PC, the glow of his pink and purple LED lights illuminating his features as his fingers rapidly click against the keyboard.

"Hm," his head shoots up, looking to where you stood in his doorway, "hey, what's up?"

"I need to talk to you, and I hoped it would stay between us?"

"O-oh okay, yeah come in, shut the door," he says, he watches you flop down on his bed after shutting his door, "so what's wrong?"

"Okay well Seungmin is setting me up with one of his friends and I d'know - I'm just really awkward, I don't know how to talk to guys, like at all, and I d'know what to do," you confess to the blonde freckled boy who is swivelling around in his gaming chair that you bought him for Christmas, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"You're good at talking to me, how different can another guy be?"

"Pixie, you know it's different," you huff, sitting up, "please, I just need your help."

"Maybe you should go to Chan, or maybe Minho, I think they could help you more," Felix tells you, "but I think you should just y'know, be yourself, you're pretty and you've got a good personality and any guy worth anything is gonna see that."

"But w-what ab-about s-" you pause, hiding your face in your hands,"sex."

"What about it?"

"Well I haven't y'know?"

"Trust me, that much is obvious," Felix teases, "but really, most guys don't care much about virginity, some guys even find it hot when girls are still virgins, they get off on the fact that they're a girl's first," he informs you, you're hands moving away from your face, staring at him, "I know you may think that's weird, but it's the truth."

"But I don't know what to do."

"That's fine, some guys also find that hot, like with blowjobs you just need to make sure you take it slow at first, get used to it, then after that speed up, and don't be afraid to take deep breaths and breaks. And as far as sex goes the guy is mostly the one doing the work, you just lay back and relax," Felix explains, "unless you're riding him, but I wouldn't recommend doing that during your first time. Sex isn't that scary y/n, just think of it as two people just wanting to help the other feel good."

"T-thank you Lix," you smile at the boy, "t-that helped me feel a bit better."

"Anytime," he smiles that pretty smile of his, "oh, later do you want to get dinner with Jeongin and me?"

"Oh, no thanks, Minho is making me dinner tonight," you smile, you stand up from his bed and walk to the door, "thank you Lix, I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Lix smiles, refocusing on his monitor.

You were going to lose your virginity, you were dead set on it. And that was truly terrifying, but you tried to ignore that feeling of fear that pooled in your abdomen. It was just sex. At least that's what Felix said.

"Hi hi," Minho greets you when you walk into the kitchen, he was standing over a pot of water on the stove waiting for it to boil.

"Hi Min," you hum, taking a seat on the couch, "so what are you making? Do you need any help?"

"We have the rule to not let you in the kitchen for a reason, but thank you for the thought, I'm making your favorite," he says it like it isn't a truly heart warming gesture.

"Thank you Minho," you thank him.

"Mhm," he simply hums, refocusing on the stove, "so what was your day like? Do anything interesting?"

The words leave your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, "virginity."

This makes Minho's face turn to look at you, his eyebrows knit together with a look of utter confusion, "virginity?" he questions.

You hide your face in your hands, a rosy blush on your face, "y-yeah," you squeak, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity," you confess.

"Like today?"

"W-well no, but someday soon," you inform him, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity."

That was not okay for Minho, not at all, but you couldn't know that, you sounded scared enough. And that was when Minho got the best worst idea he has ever had. You could lose your virginity to him.

"Who is going to take your virginity?" he asks.

"Well I haven't exactly worked t-that part out yet," you confide, "but to someone, someone soon."

"It should be someone you trust," Minho advises you, "it shouldn't just be a random hookup, maybe it should be a friend, someone you already know, in a no strings attached kind of way."

"Maybe you're right," you ponder for a moment before shooting your head up, "do you think Felix would have sex with me?"

Minho can't help but choke on pure air, doubling over, "e-excuse me?"

"Minho! I'm being serious!" you whine, "Felix is my best friend an-and I trust him!"

Minho eventually regains his composure, "you shouldn't fuck your best friend, that always ends up messy."

"You're right," you agree, another idea coming to your mind, "I should ask Chan if he'll have sex with me."

"That's also a terrible idea, did you forget that he's already seeing someone?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, fuck," you groan, "what should I do, because if I don't lose it to someone else, I'll end up losing it to one of Kim Seungmin's friends."

"You could just fuck me," Minho proposes.

You can't help the way your jaw practically hits the fucking floor, "wh-what? You'd do that- w-well technically me?"

"I mean yeah, you're my friend, and I just want what's best for you," he reassures you of his intentions, "I'll teach you everything you want to know."

"Oh, well when c-can we?" you watch as he adds the noodles to the boiling water, "you know-"

"How about tonight? If you want to, I'm in no rush, you can choose when and where," he cuts you off.

"Tonight," you affirm, "tonight."

"Okay, tonight," Minho agrees, "you decide what we're doing."

"I want you to decide," you confess, "I just want this to be nice and y'know intimate?"

"Okay," Minho hums, moving to strain the water after the noodles had boiled for their needed time.

Minho eats with you, and cleans up the mess afterwards, you were on edge the whole time, not knowing what to do or what to expect. Practically vibrating with nerves and excitement all mixed into one.

"Y/n," Minho calls out to you.

You practically jump out of your chair, looking up at the man, "listen, you need to relax, let's take a shower," he proposes.

"O-okay," you agree.

You follow him into you and his shared bathroom, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin having their own bathroom. Minho was the first one to completely strip and that's when you saw it. His cock. That big thing was supposed to fit in you, there was no fucking way.

"Minho th-y-your cock," you gawk, if it looked this big and this intimidating like this you could only imagine what it looked like when he was actually hard.

"Don't worry," he grins, "I'll get you nice and prepped before I put it in."

His cock was nothing to joke about, big and fat with a slight curve, so meaty and girthy it was intimidating just to look at and he wasn't even hard yet.

Minho watches as you strip your clothes off, and you search his face for a reaction to your nudeness, you get one, "no wonder you have so many fanboys and fangirls," Minho grins.

He's offering you a hand, which you take, now standing under the water of the shower with him, becoming soaked from head to toe. He is quick to sink to his knees and start lapping at your cunt until you're painting his face with your cum before he's holding you still, making you give him another orgasm.

It hurts when he puts it in, you're whining and whimpering and falling apart, feeling like you're being ripped open by his fat length. He's gentle with you though, holding you delicately, kissing the back of your neck, stilling inside you and letting you adjust to his length.

"Jagi, that's only the tip," he hums, rubbing soft circles on your hips, "tell me when I can move, jagi."

It takes a few minutes before you're comfortable with him moving even more, but eventually you give him the go ahead. You're having to bite down on your tongue so you don't scream, "there you go, kitty cat, bigggg stretch," Minho coos, his hips stilling, "there now you're halfway done."

Your legs feel so wobbly like they could give out as Minho takes your virginity in the shower, "Min-daddy please move!" you gulp.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you," Minho groans, pushing his cock in until his fat mushroom tip is pressed against your cervix, "gonna stretch you out all good and nice, no other cock is gonna fill you up quite right."

"Daddy!" you're practically screaming when he starts moving.

He's slow and delicate with you, taking his time, savoring every stroke in your tight virgin cunt. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good. You felt the ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine, the sound of skin slapping on skin being all that resonated around the shower room. "Oh my fucking God!" you yelp when his cock presses against that spongy spot inside you over and over and over again.

His cock has you seeing stars, and you're thoroughly convinced this is the best you've ever felt. No wonder people always talked about sex when it felt like this.

With every thrust of his hips he's bringing you closer and closer making you feel hotter and hotter. Your body is writhing around, he keeps a firm grasp on you, holding you still for him. "Atta girl," he hums, "you're taking my cock so well, jagi, like your little cunt was made for it."

"Daddy!" you're basically wailing, tears of pleasure streaming down your face, it just feels oh so good, you never want it to end.

When his hand wraps around your body to rub rub rub your clit you're doubling over, pleasure racking your body.

And that's when the band building up in your stomach finally snaps. Glancing down to watch the stream of clear liquid drip out of your pussy onto the tile of the shower. "Daddy!" you whimper over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's it, jagi," Minho groans his cock slipping out of you before you feel hot ropes of his cum painting your ass followed by Minho's groans.

"Minho-" you whine.

"Oh, jagi," Minho is mumbling before he's turning you around and pulling you close to him, "I think I'll have to keep you, your cunt is just too sweet," he plants a kiss on your hairline as water from the shower hits your back.

[onmykneesformatt]

🍒cherry candy🍒 -m.s.

synopsis: one of your biggest insecurities is matt’s favorite thing in the entire world. so what happens when you go on a shopping spree?

warnings: SMUT, softdom!matt, fem!reader, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, PRAISING OH MY LORDDDTT, unprotected p in v (safe sex is great sex, betta wear a latex), boob play for DAYS, mentions of body dysmorphia, i don’t think anything else???

a/n: this is a lil slow but i'm hoping y'all like it anyways >-<. y’all were HEAVY on the tittyguy!matt shit, so i decided to treat y’all and give y’all a fic😛🍒🌺 ENJOY SLUTS!!🍒🎀🌺

“let’s start at target! they have those billie eilish shirts for her newest album!”

you giggled like a little girl, practically skipping into the target while holding matt’s pinky.

“alright, your choice.” he smiled, happy that you’re finally getting out of the house more.

you’ve been staying inside for the past couple weeks.

he picked up on signs that it was about something someone might’ve said at your family reunion. he loved your body, and he thought anyone who didn’t was insane.

you admitted to him after the first week straight of not having sex or even being half-naked around him while getting dressed everyday.

-

“what’s up with you? you used to love putting on fashion shows every morning while changing, but you haven’t for, what? two weeks now? it’s so cute, and i love it. what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing.”

“it’s something.”

he stood up from the edge of the bed to stand in toe-to-toe with you, your back almost touching the closet door.

“uhm.. i-“

“you can tell me, pretty girl. i wont judge you.”

“mhm, okay. well, do you remember my dads side of the family?”

“oh, god.”

he scoffed, knowing what you were about to say.

“well, at the family reunion, they wouldn’t stop bringing up how i was looking ‘more exposed’ than a college girl should, and kept staring at my boobs. i didn’t take any of it to heart at first, but then my cousins started whispering to eachother. i mean, i get it, i might’ve gained some weight since the last reunion, but it still hurts. and i can only imagine how they felt seeing my thighs and stomach. i went swimming! they practically saw everything they needed to make fun of me!”

he grabbed your waist, pulling you into a hug against his chest while you caught your breath.

“baby. are you kidding? do you know how often i imagine myself between those thighs while i’m at meetings? how i love pressing on your stomach to push you closer against me when i’m behind you? and, oh my god. those boobs. i would lay on them all day if i could. have you ever noticed how when we’re laying down, my hands just ‘happen’ to move up to your chest? or when you’re.. y’know.. on top of me, i use them to relieve ‘stress’?”

he was helpful whenever it came to compliments. more than helpful.

“i know. but almost every girl in my family has the perky, slim look. i don’t think i’m overweight or anything, but compared to them i must look huge.”

matt shook his head at your comment, knowing that no matter what you wore, you looked like a goddess to him.

“you’re not, baby. you’re perfect.”

he backed up, having a cheesy grin on his face. the same face he makes when he’s about to say something funny but kind of corny.

“i mean, you’re like cherry candy to me.”

you giggled, wiping away the light tears on your face.

you felt safe again.

the morning after, you started doing your fashion shows again. matt smiled knowing he was able to bring you so much comfort, and also bring back your confidence.

-

”how about this?” you grabbed the light brown, one-piece bathing suit that had a sheer cover-up attached to it.

“you would look amazing in it. but, i thought you didn’t like one-pieces because of the way they felt on your skin?”

“i don’t,” you looked down, starting to fidget with the price tag. “but, i don’t know. there’s gonna be a lot of girls at this pool party.”

“so?” it slipped matt’s mind. again. he thought you were perfect, so he saw no issue with the way you looked.

“oh.” he remembered. the comments from your dads side of the family shouldn’t have stuck the way they did. he tried to keep his composure, trying not to imagine the way you must’ve acted after they would say things like that. he started to regret not going with you. it was only a few hours, but those few hours affected the next few weeks of your life.

“well, i think you should forget about what people might think. as bad as this may come off, you can’t change anything about your body. i mean, i love it. if you couldn’t tell.”

his hands landed on your waist, pulling you in.

“and, personally, you have the best body i’ve ever seen.” that meant a lot coming from a guy who’s friends with people like madison beer, nessa barrett, and multiple other attractive female influencers. not that you thought he would ever go for them, but he worshipped you. like, worshipped you.

“i love you so much, matt. you have no idea.”

“i love you more.”

~ after about 15 minutes of scouring through the target to find more bathing suits to try, especially two-pieces, you found the dressing room.

matt sat patiently on the bench right outside, waiting for you to walk out.

“uh, matt?”

“yeah, babe?”

“i don’t really wanna, y’know.. walk out there.”

“okay, that’s fine.”

his eyes widened slightly when he saw the opportunity approach.

“do you want me to.. go in there with you?”

you honestly thought nothing of it. i mean, he's your boyfriend. he's seen you naked like a thousand times.

"sure. maybe you can actually help me get this shit off."

you giggled, and he smirked at your offer.

you unlocked the dressing room door, hiding behind it as you cracked it open making sure no one could see you.

as you stepped out from behind the door, matt's jaw dropped at how the beautiful blue bikini hugged you in all the right places. all the right places.

"holy shit."

you accidentally covered your cleavage with your left hand nervously playing with your necklace, while the right rubbed your forehead.

"you think?"

without a word, he grabbed your left hand and threw it to your side. he was drooling at the sight of his favorite thing in the world.

your tits.

"i- uh.. just.. wow."

you blushed, covering your face with both hands.

"stop doing that."

he threw both of your arms down to your side with a stern look on his face.

"sorry, baby. do you.. maybe wanna help me change out of it?"

in an instant, he turned you around and quickly untied your top.

he slid the straps down your shoulders, admiring the soft skin.

his breath was heavy on your ear while he praised you and stared at your chest.

"god. what could i ever do without you? without these?"

his hands slid from your lower belly all the way up to your chest, playing with them like he needed it.

leaving hickeys all over your neck, he slowly turned you to face him. he tugged at the side of the bathing suit bottoms, signaling for you to take them off. after you did, he was quick to proving that you were everything and more.

"jump."

he had you pressed against the wall, your legs around his lower waist and arms slung over his shoulders. he started kissing in the crook of your neck until he reached your chest. he pecked anywhere he could reach, leaving behind little praises.

"i don't deserve you."

"i can't believe you're mine."

"you look more and more perfect every single day."

after about a minute, you both grew impatient.

he slipped his sweatpants and boxer down to his mid thigh. he kept heavy contact with your lips, making sure you knew just how much he craved your sweet taste.

he teased your entrance, slowly slipping his length into you. after adjusting to not only him but also the new position, he started going at a sweet and sultry but quick pace.

he somehow slipped a free hand, squeezing any amount of your tits that he could while kissing your neck. you fell into a high that left claw marks at his upper back, only motivating him more.

"you see how much i care about you? how perfect your- fuck.. your body really is? you had me folded from a bikini."

you giggled while still keeping your heavy breaths.

"try to stay quiet. don't need some rando knowing how great you really are. you're mine. you're my candy."

light groans and quiet sighs both escaped your mouths as you tried to keep from screaming each others names.

"i love you. i love what you give me. i don't deserve it. god- fuck.. i love you."

-

the coast was clear after walking out of the dressing room, both of you sweaty with slightly messy hair.

you walked to the register, smiling and holding matt's hand.

"just these, please."

"great choices, and i'm sure the boyfriend approves."

the cashier giggled while giving a look that made you blush knowing what just happened five minutes prior.

matt pulled you closer to him by your waist.

"trust me, i do."

-

HAHA YALL BETTER BE HAPPYYYYY

now time to move onto subnerd!matt which might be out by next week!!!

bye sluts!!🌺🍒

[wannaeatramyeon]

DG x Reader: Manager and their Idol

8.5k. G/N. Soft, colleagues to lover (guess I love this trope). Masterlists

You had imagined life as a K-Pop idol manager to be much more glamorous.

You pity your young naive self. The one that envisaged schmoozing with stars and rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers, and instead set you on this horrid, lacklustre path.

What you didn't expect was the amount of time playing driver. Carting that stupid pink haired brat around. Waiting on him hand and foot during shoots and interviews, and being at his beck and call.

You have saved his ass more times than you can recall, ran through scripts with him, practised his stupid dances and moves alongside, protected him from unhinged fans and reporters and scavengers.

And yet you can count on one hand the amount of times he has thanked you.

Actually no, it didn't require any hands because he has thanked you exactly zero times for all your early mornings and late nights and for going above and beyond your duty.

Out of desperation, you had asked your boss if you could manage someone else and the request was declined.

"DG has taken a liking to you," she said, tone impressed as if that was something you should be proud of.

"Great," your smile comes out as more of a grimace.

And goddamn, this agency was so stupidly prestigious and the benefits and perks here really are second to none. Just why did Diego fucking Kang have to be their top idol.

.

.

The first time you crossed the threshold into his building, greeting the reception security guard and entering his penthouse keycode like you had been let in on the world's greatest secret, you had tiptoed around like a child in a museum. After all, this was DG's residence. The DG!

You had ooh-ed and aah-ed at every little thing. 

Taking delight in seeing his interior design of choice, the type of candy that he snacks on, the shampoo and conditioner he uses, the way he organises his desk. This is the chair DG sits on to eat. This is the sofa DG lounges on to watch TV. This is the bed he sleeps in, the bath he uses, the toilet he-

Any wide eyed innocence and awe evaporated after your first week working together.

Today, you stab in the entry code and let the door shut with a bang. 

You set his now cold coffee order on the kitchen counter and rifle with practised fingers through his unopened mail to see if there is anything you should draw his immediate attention to. You pick up his discarded clothes from the floor (and for fuck's sake, this suit jacket was on loan) and make your way to his bedroom where tufts of pink hair peeks out from under the cover.

"Good morning," you announce, locating the remote to open the blinds and letting in some sunlight.

Bedsheets rustle behind you.

"Good morning Diego," you repeat and give one warning, "I hope you're decent." With that, you throw the covers back to find the scantily dressed idol glaring up at you.

You remember the days when this sight would have made you weak at the knees. Seeing him half naked, in the flesh, freshly woken up with bedhead and half lidded eyes. It's what most of Korea dreams of, including yourself once upon a time.

Now all you feel is extreme irritation.

"Good morning," you say for the third time, plastering on a saccharine smile that you know DG sees clearly through because it is insincere as hell to anyone with half a brain cell. You let the fakeness shine through anyway.

For a split second, DG frowns as his eyes drop to your lips and then he pretends everything is good. Smiling back prettily, sharp canines on show and stretching. Lifting his arms overhead, showing a good stretch of pecs and abs and the line of muscle in a V pointing like an arrow straight down to his-

You roll your eyes.

"You're late." You throw the covers back over him and stride back towards the door. "We should have left half an hour ago." You leave out the part where you had been waiting downstairs in the car and after an hour of no show and no anything, you stomped your way up to his home.

DG, sensing your mood, adds oil to the fire with a smirk, "Why didn't you wake me then?"

If that idiot bothered to look at his phone, he would see a number of missed calls and unread messages from you.

Whatever.

"Hurry up."

.

.

DG has come across many people like yourself over the years. All cute and bright eyed, way too soft.

He never gave you any special treatment, for better or worse, and assumed that you would eventually burn out or give up and move on to something more worthwhile.

Unfortunately, in a rare turn of events, he had miscalculated.

Of course most people would be starstruck, it's only natural. But he mistook your sincerity and kind smile for ignorance and missed your sharp, observing gaze, and astute mind.

He's impressed, and he really can't remember the last time he was impressed.

In a matter of days of working together, you had managed to cut through the bullshit and within the month got him more compliant and docile than anyone else ever has.

Which should be a huge fucking problem, and raising red flags all over DG's mind.

...Except-

What's really troubling him right now, as he sulks in the passenger seat and you in the driver's, is that you have developed some sort of resistance to his charms.

Maybe a part of him does actually miss the you who he formed the first impression of. Who looked at him in wonder, with the same admiration that everyone else did.

Now that he knows you, he hates that he had thought that initial admiration was insignificant and worthless.

.

.

DG has a stash of candy in the car.

Or more accurately, you keep a stash of candy next to him to a) Shut him up and b) Keep him tolerable.

If DG wasn't so aloof, the fact that he has an incurable sweet tooth (and probably cavities to prove it) would have made headlines as a cute K-Pop fact and likely garnered sponsorship and advertising deals with all sorts of confectionary brands.

You had only found out during your adventures as his manager, rifling through his kitchen drawers trying to find his goddamn phone that he misplaced and you stumbled upon his stash of candy.

It really was a disgusting amount, something you'd expect a gaggle of grade schoolers at Halloween to hoard, not Diego goddamn Kang.

And then you also found out if he's not quiet and haughty in the car, making the atmosphere awkward, he likes to comment on your driving.

Who even sits in the passenger seat next to their 'chauffeur' anyway? He complains about you braking too suddenly and not accelerating fast enough. How you drive like an 80 year old with cataracts, and you're too slow when the light changes to green.

The turn in your relationship happened when you snapped at him to shut the fuck up after losing the final shred of your sanity on a three hour drive.

DG, to your dismay, didn’t miraculously lose his hearing and turns to you as you silently berate yourself for voicing the quiet thoughts out loud.

Although, you're in the deep end now. You're gonna get fired anyway, so if he says anything else you might as well give him a flick on the forehead or a pinch or maybe a punch to the face-

Instead, he laughs.

It's nothing like the laugh you have heard on TV and in interviews. The rehearsed and manicured 'haha' or cool chuckle that suits his shiny persona. It's kinda goofy and a lot endearing.

What's even more endearing is the way he does actually shut the fuck up for the rest of the journey. You like him a lot more after that.

So. You digress.

The candy is a way to keep the sweet toothed maniac quiet. Even if it doesn't work, at least it's harder to make out what insults he's slinging with a lollipop rattling around his mouth.

However, he has never ever shared any with you. Any of the candy that you stock, and pay for.

(That you technically claim back on company expenses, but you're trying to be self righteous here.)

Ever.

In all the months of working with him, he gobbles away happily even if your stomach is growling and you refuse to take any yourself out of principle.

Until-

"Here."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of your response and open mouth, DG leans into your personal space and feeds you some chewy strawberry something or another (which coincidentally are his least favourite), fingers lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second.

Three things happen in quick succession.

The burst of sugar hits your tongue.

You nearly choke.

You narrowly avoid swerving.

"Careful now," DG grins when you get the car and yourself under control, and glance at him with a scowl.

Good. That proves you're not completely immune to his charms.

.

.

That bastard has now taken it upon himself to feed you candy at every opportunity.

You wonder if he's doing some sort of Pavlov experiment. The sweetness trying to erase any sourness you feel towards him.

It sort of works, and you consider biting his fingers off one of these days.

You hear the crinkling of wrappers, one for him that he pops into his mouth, and one for you that he gives without asking.

You angle your head towards him, and his fingers graze your lips every time.

Neither of you comment on the change but the intimacy drives you a little crazy.

.

.

And DG too.

Because intimacy works both ways and damnit his little gesture to keep the pretty blush on your face has backfired.

The only form of intimacy he knows comes from discreet hookups and low key links. Not someone who is around day in, day out. Or anyone that goes deeper than one night stands and booty calls.

You're there, you're always there. Of course you are, you're his manager.

But today, he feels under the microscope with you standing a couple metres away and keen eyes watching the camera monitor.

It's a no nothing day. Standard schedule where he shoots a fragrance commercial and he exits a pool all wet and sultry, white t-shirt clinging to his muscled body.

Then another scene where he writhes around slightly on a sunbed and eye-fucks the camera.

How it sells a fragrance, he never knows. The mystery of showbiz.

"Cut! More powder!" The director shouts out, the crew springing into action and DG knows exactly why.

He feels strangely embarrassed and flustered, which has manifested into his cheeks being flushed, and god he can't even remember the last time he has been like this.

It’s out of character and he needs to get his head together.

As the make up artist hurriedly dabs on some foundation, you make your way over to him.

"Are you sick?" you ask, concerned and reaching out to feel his forehead with the back of your hand.

"I'm fine," He says, turning away from your attentiveness and staring at a point in the distance.

.

.

With most people, if DG wants them out of sight, they stay out of sight.

But as his manager, and a very competent one at that, it’s harder to get you to leave.

Not that DG wants you to either, don’t get him wrong. 

The only constants he has around him are people who want something from him. And yes, he knows you’re only in his company because you work with him. However, he really can’t doubt the concern he always sees in your eyes. The compassion and empathy even when he makes you want to scream and tear your hair out.

His standoffish demeanour is not new to anyone. It’s part of his appeal to be quite honest. 

Yet he feels bad over the next couple weeks as he turns it up to eleven and tries to create some distance. He registers the hurt on your face as he is extra short with his answers and behaviour.

.

.

Pandering to overinflated celebrity egos and the insane Korean work ethic often leads to after hour shoots and dinner delayed until past midnight.

Honestly, this wreaks havoc on your sleep schedule and your skin.

"Here." You retrieve DG's takeout from the paper bag.

A double portion of delicious fried chicken with a side of kimchi and pickles. It's a change of pace from what most idols order, yet he doesn't give two shits about calories or sodium intake and to add insult to injury, somehow manages to keep his trim figure.

You lament your soggy salad sitting at the bottom. As if it’s not sad enough right now - once you arrive home, the lettuce will be wilting and room temperature and you will eat it in your dimly lit apartment with nothing to keep you company except the sound of the TV.

DG notices you turning to leave his penthouse, and his mouth moves before his brain can.

"Aren't you staying?"

"What?" You double take at the question.

DG's company is usually worse than your lonely meal for one. 

He’s annoying and you frequently want to slap him, but how he has been with you lately has been troubling and you actually feel a sense of relief at his offer.

(You had wondered if you might have been getting sacked up until this moment.)

Nevertheless, in all your time working alongside, you have never had a proper meal one on one together. Nothing more than you driving with one hand and the other hastily shoving a burger into your mouth as he looks on in disgust.

You would have dwelled on this more, wondering what's changed, what’s happened, but then-

"I'll share." DG nudges the box towards you, and the delicious scent of deep fried, battered goodness wafts along with it it

All your misgivings and your salad is forgotten.

.

.

Almost.

No, you were wrong.

Eating with DG, without any distractions such as traffic to navigate or other boisterous colleagues around, is unnerving. Disarming.

His haughtiness remains, but how haughty can someone be when munching on a drumstick.

All frostiness from the past weeks melts away as you both eat your way through his chicken.

He’s talking more tonight than you have heard in a while.

You find him funny, and really quite bitchy. Which you did know all along except it's much funnier now his slanderous comments aren't directed at you.

And has he always looked at you with such a piercing gaze? So intensely focused on what you have to say. Even if you're just complaining about your boss, blurring your lines of professionalism, he gives you his full attention.

You really can't remember the last time you have been in each other's company like this. 

You loathe to admit that even with what an asshole he is, DG's shine hasn’t dulled enough for you that you don't understand the appeal.

.

.

Leaning forward, DG whispers into your ear.

To anyone else, it looks like an over-affectionate idol with their manager. If they could hear his words, "I'm going to kill you," they would think otherwise.

Ok, so this one is your fault.

The good times have to come to an end and maybe you should have been more careful with his pride and joy - some ridiculously overpriced and over-specced vehicle.

Taking advantage of the clear blue Seoul skies, the pink haired menace was the one who drove you today in his fancy imported sports car, but the speed limits and the rest of the traffic was not on his side.

Already running late, even for him, he parked somewhere convenient and illegal then passed you the keys, leaving you stranded on the sidewalk, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, as he strode off to meet his music producer and choreographer and left you to park his baby elsewhere.

Why he entrusted you with it, you're not sure.

You would have done it anyway though, because when else are you going to have an opportunity to drive a supercar, if your boss didn't call at that moment. Questioning your expenses and DG's schedule and confusing you about the fitting at a fashion house and hair styling appointment that you knew like the back of your hand but when someone is so confidently incorrect, you start to doubt yourself.

By the time you got off the phone after pacing up and down the street and checking and double checking DG's timetable, you finally make your way back to the car-

And see it in the middle of being compounded.

You had begged and pleaded with the two men who were having none of it and you left, tail between your legs, to beg and plead with the other man who you knew would also have none of it.

Damn, you hate it when you prove yourself right in these instances.

You know DG won't really kill you, but he will likely make your life hell for the next couple weeks.

.

.

A normal person being pissed off at you would probably result in the silent treatment until tempers cool down.

DG does the opposite. Sort of.

He takes pleasure in making things as awkward for you as possible, until you're squirming in your seat trying to stay professional, thinking about your job and your rent and your bills; or torn between wanting the ground to swallow you up.

Around other people, your boss, your colleagues, his colleagues, he sidles up to you all smiles and soft looks. Slips purposely into banmal, and then oopsy, pretends that he didn't mean to be so informal with you around others.

Gossip soon stirs about your and DG's close relationship, if there's something else going on. Only you can see the mischief in his eyes and the malice in his smile and you think about yanking him by the ear and demanding to know what he is playing at.

Alone, he denies any sort of miscreant behaviour. Barely listening to you complaining and snapping at him. Ending with him outright ignoring you and you fume even harder.

This time, you're not sure the punishment even fits the crime. 

Any guilt soon dissipates when his car is returned in perfect condition within a couple days but his performance lasts for weeks.

.

.

Teasing you has always been fun for DG - when your cheeks dust angrily with pink and your eyes burn with fire.

The equivalent of a boy pulling a girl’s pigtails in the school yard.

.

.

Meetings with HNH Group usually do not involve you. If it does, at most you are waiting in the car.

Luckily, there are also an assortment of cafes and restaurants within a stone's throw and it gives you some time to debrief and catch a breather from following DG's hectic schedule.

The downside is you're never sure if a two hour meeting will be condensed to fifteen minutes or if a quick catch up with Charles Choi and other Executives turns into an all nighter.

There's been days where you have ordered a meal, then had to abandon it with a sigh and a longing look as you spot DG striding out of the building looking pissed off that you're not already there, or stayed in the vehicle with the engine running and your stomach rumbling as short appointments overshoot.

Maybe this is another consequence from DG being petty and irate with you for getting his car towed - you're left snoozing at the steering wheel of your runaround, the idol standard-issue luxury minivan, waiting for his return.

It's far too late in the evening for anywhere to be open, only the fluorescent lights of convenience stores and glare of the HNH logo illuminates the streets.

DG opens the sliding door, climbs into the back and slams it hard enough to jerk you awake and rattle the entire van.

He’s sitting by himself in the back, which is odd enough in itself.

As you blink away the dregs of sleep, in the rearview mirror, you notice the stiffness in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. His eyes stare vacantly out the window. DG is clearly upset about something, enough to crack through his aloof veneer.

"Are you ok?" You don't get a response, not even a passing glance.

Obviously something has gone wrong with the HNH Group meeting and the stress has manifested.

You wrack your brains thinking of something that might cheer up this asshole and you think of the only thing that improves your mood when you're on the verge of a breakdown.

(Usually due to the aforementioned asshole in your current presence). 

"Tteokbokki and beer?" You offer. It’s past your bedtime but a sulky DG for the rest of the week will also ruin your week too.

DG briefly looks at you before going back to staring at the window. It’s not a no.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night. 

At your favourite late night hole-in-the-wall, you eat far more tteokbokki than DG. On second thoughts, you don’t remember him eating any at all. You’re talking and downing beers to fill the silence, trying to perk up this silly celebrity. Loose lipped and spilling far more details than you would if you were sober, with him seated opposite and sipping on a soda. 

As the night ticks along, he thaws and a small smile settles on his face watching you gesticulate and ramble about your life.

You don’t get home until past 4am that night-

With DG driving, piggybacking you up to your apartment, and tucking you into bed.

.

.

DG can’t stop thinking of the weight of you on his back, arms slung over his shoulders, legs at his waist and his hands gripping your thighs.

You slurring drunkenly into his ear as he climbs the stairs in your building. It’s mostly nonsense. He can’t make out your words but remembers your breath tickling his skin.

And when he wraps your duvet around you, the brief moment of lucidity in your eyes as you look at him, softer than you ever have, you tell him, “Thanks Diego.”

Diego.

.

.

Nothing changes between the two of you after this. Not really.

You still find him an enormous thorn in your side. Incredibly stuck up and haughty and you continue to want to throttle him on a weekly basis but you are immensely grateful for him not leaving you a passed out heap on the sidewalk.

You’re in the middle of chastising him once again, dragging him out of bed as he is running late and being an absolute dick about it. Taking it easy as if he has all the time in the world. 

Well of course he does. He’s not the one that will be getting an earful from your boss or on the receiving end of the production crew’s complaints, as if trying to manhandle and cart this manchild around is easy.

“Diego Kang, I swear to fucking god-”

"James." He says, interrupting you as he picks out and pulls an eye-wateringly expensive jumper over his head.

"What?"

"Call me James when it's just us.” He checks out his outfit in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with it, before moving onto his hair. “James Lee. That's my real name."

DG, or James Lee, keeps his eyes on his reflection. Inspecting his non-existent roots, styling his fringe to make it fall just so and applying a liberal amount of hair product.

Nonchalant and casual even as he offers something desperately personal about himself.

"James," you say, trying out the sound for yourself. A name that seems at odds with his loud K-Pop shell but you imagine a time before the fame and the celebrity and the pink hair and it somehow fits.

"James," you repeat, and receive a small smile in return. Then it drops as you add, “If you don’t get your ass in the car in the next five minutes I will kill you.”

.

.

“James,” you think to yourself before you drift off to sleep that night. 

How peculiar.

“James, James, James.”

.

.

Celebrities these days are multi-hyphenates.

DG is an Idol-CEO-Actor, or at least trying to add the last one onto his resume. On looks alone, he would have already gotten his foot through the door. Add on his reputation and popularity, he is drowning in offers.

What you personally dislike more with K-dramas scenes though, is how long things take. How much it revolves around other actors and their managers whereas DG being in the studio or filming a music video is pretty much all him.

This K-drama is supposed to be the next big thing. 

With the biggest names attached, including DG who is making a cameo. The cameo that was also scheduled to be filmed five hours ago but you have both just been lurking in his dressing room since.

Along with some measly snacks and refreshments, which the crew has been kind enough to provide. 

However, the snacks are all but gone (thanks to you) and the refreshments are dwindling and there is no end in sight.

DG, or James, as you have started to call him in your head, is on his phone. He’s always on his phone. Scrolling through news articles, responding to important emails and messages.

There’s only so much news or celebrity gossip you can take. You have exhausted your own social media feeds and you have spent far too much money on your gacha games and the guilt has set in.

You twiddle your thumbs on the sofa next to him as he takes no notice of your presence and you decide to rest your eyes. 

Why not anyway? DG doesn’t need anything right now, work won’t be interrupting you, and there’s nothing for you to do. Just for a minute or five. Until someone from the production team knocks on the door and announces that it’s time for his scene.

DG side-eyes you when he notices your breath start to slow and deepen. Falling asleep on the job, really?

Then you let out a snore before smacking your lips together a couple times and he holds back a snort. He reasons that he should let you have some time to rest. After all, you’re the one that drives him around, his life is in your hands everyday and tiredness kills.

He’s on his phone for a few more minutes, reading through more emails on PTJ Entertainment and out of the corner of his eye he notices you drooping.

Body slowly slumping to slouch over him, until your head makes contact with his shoulder and you’re snoozing happily on your newfound pillow.

It’s equal parts inappropriate and cute.

Ugh, DG is 99% sure you’re drooling on him and the wardrobe department isn’t going to be happy when he returns the outfit.

Either way, that’s not going to be his problem. He adjusts minutely, makes it just a touch more comfortable for you and continues to scroll.

.

.

You wake up to a wetness by your mouth, and to your horror, DG smirking down at you.

.

.

Despite none of this being your fault, you apologise to everyone about having to reschedule DG’s music video shoot due to the previous day’s K-drama delays.

To your relief, the music video goes swimmingly and without a hitch, and the production is wrapped up on time. 

You’ll happily bet that his new song will go straight to No.1. If not, then at least the sensual music video will guarantee DG remains top of mind for weeks. 

You’re updating your boss and even she seems to be pleased.

"This is just work." DG interrupts as you're mid call.

You look up at him, brows furrowed.

Holding your hand to your phone to mute the speaker, you whisper, "I know."

"Good," and he walks away leaving you as confused as ever.

It's not the first time you have seen him shoot an MV, which thank the heavens is so much more efficient than bloody k-dramas, and also not the first time that there's been scenes that emulate an intimate moment. Lips nearly brushing together. Hands roaming bodies under fake rain.

Even if DG notices that you're watching the scene, eyes glazed over and bored, he still felt the urge to explain to you that there's nothing between you and the leading lady in the video.

Once out of sight of everyone, he facepalms himself for his ridiculousness.

.

.

You’re right, and you absolutely love it when you’re right.

The song goes straight to No.1 and holds that position for weeks, fending off competition from boy bands and girl groups and other solo artists. Apparently it’s going to be the song of the summer.

The music video also breaks records for being the most watched within 24 hours.

DG only reviews it once for post-production checks and finds it just fine.

There’s something he can’t quite put his finger on that seems off with it.

He wonders what it would look like if it was you starring opposite him.

.

.

“Where on earth is he?” You grit your teeth and grip harder onto the umbrella that is threatening to be swept away by the wind.

And another thing with being DG’s manager: it’s fine if he’s late but not if it’s you.

(Although to be fair, this instance of him being late is likely due to this particular music producer he’s meeting with enjoying the sound of his own voice.)

You were running late exactly one time in the past, during the first couple days of managing him, when the skies opened and drenched the earth. 

Heavens forbid DG’s perfect, beautiful, flawless hair is ruined by the rain. 

It’s not like he looked like a drowned rat. The paparazzi caught him in a wet t-shirt, fabric clinging to his abs and his pink hair slicked back stylishly. Even the goddamn raindrops were running fashionably down his high cheekbones and dripping off his pout.

For the next week, the tabloids and internet forums went wild with how hot he looked. 

(Who knows, maybe that was the inspiration for his fragrance commercial.)

Nevertheless, DG was displeased and it made its way back to your boss how displeased he was.

Ever since, you have been the unfortunate soul waiting in all manners of weather for him. Rain storms, blistering sun, freezing snow.

Today, it’s your favourite. Rain. You shiver against the elements trying to take shelter under the building entrance canopy, the wind whipping the downpour every which way and you’re getting soaked regardless of how you angle your umbrella.

“Hurry up, DG.”

You check the time over and over. He would be early to his next appointment if he exited the building now. 

…On time.

…On time if the traffic was in your favour.

…Late, but not terribly so.

…Fashionably late.

… Late enough to piss everyone off in the room.

Shit. Just as you begin to fret, wondering if something has happened to him-

Clicks and flashes from cameras alert you to his royal highness finally making an appearance, ready to exit the studio and making his way over to the car.

He materialises by your side, and you mutter a familiar phrase to him. 

“You’re late.” 

It’s a mantra you’re tired of repeating, but he relishes if the amused grin is any indication.

Without a word, he takes off his trench coat and drapes it around your shoulders. His right hand covers yours over the umbrella handle, left wrapping around your waist as he guides you through the throng of reporters and fans.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath. 

You can imagine the optics now from the papers and your boss. It looks… Well. Not terrible but not the best.

“You’re soaked,” is all DG provides, accompanied with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He opens the driver’s door for you before he climbs into the passenger’s side.

.

.

Thank goodness for your gift of the gab.

He’s being a gentleman, you tell everyone that would listen. Isn’t this what Korea wants? An idol with manners and who looks after everyone? Is empathetic and caring?

Think how well it would resonate with the female demographic, who wants a boyfriend like this! The older boomer demographic, who thinks none of the young ‘uns have any manners anymore!

Your boss isn’t convinced until the advertising offers for umbrella companies roll in.

.

.

Truth be told, DG doesn’t know what possessed him to do that. Especially in front of cameras.

Though, it’s not like he could just let you get even more drenched could he? You’re standing there, looking pitiful and he was just going to let you hold the umbrella over him when he should be the one taking care of you-

Hold on.

DG frowns at himself.

Damn.

.

.

James Lee has never looked after anyone besides himself. You need to look after yourself if you are to survive this dog eat dog world. To make it atop the Pre-Generation, the First Generation and now the Second.

He had unfathomably high expectations of himself (that he managed to achieve) and low expectations for relationships (that hadn’t been proven wrong yet).

People have flitted in and out of the chapters of his life, no-one staying around for long. Definitely no-one staying around long enough to know him, for him to grow comfortable with. 

Perhaps it has been the forced closeness that has caused him to let his guard down. Cabin fever, in a sense.

But James Lee, Diego Kang, has himself also been around long enough to know there’s more to you and he wants more of you.

.

.

Finding reasons to spend time together isn’t difficult. Actually, finding reasons to spend time apart would be much harder.

You both get on with your jobs and your duties, even as the closeness grows day by day.

And every time when you’re alone and you call him James, his heart grows fonder.

.

.

Out of all the seats available in his apartment, James lounges next to you, long legs draping over yours.

It's another night in together.

These seem to be happening with increasing frequency. DG at least used to keep up appearances, networking with his fellow celebrities.

Parties where you used to look at him with distaste as starlets surrounded him, award shows that he couldn't care less about as you hung around in the background.

Now he prefers to stay in with you, using work as a thin excuse. Studying lyrics that he has already memorised, going over dances that are long ingrained in him.

"You're not going to her party?" You ask, you were sure this fan-favourite and DG were an item or had history. At the very least, the who's who of the industry always attended her gatherings.

"No," his eyes continue roving over the lines.

Then when you thought the conversation was done, he looks over the top of his paper, eyes sparkling with playfulness, "I prefer being here with you."

Oh. Your breath catches in your throat.

You think you might never breathe normally again.

.

.

No, that’s a lie. Any opportunities for rose-tinted glasses has long passed by. You both know each other too well for that.

You breathe perfectly fine. Actually, this morning you are taking deep breaths to try and centre yourself. 

It’s not working. 

“You’re always fucking late,” you snap, giving in to your anger.

Sometimes you think it is your fault for not watching over DG 24/7. That instead of going back home, you should just live with him so you can shake him awake when he is supposed to get up instead of when he wants to.

And does it hurt him to look the least bit contrite at making your life a misery? 

Why does he have to look so smug with a lollipop stick hanging out his mouth? Seriously, between all the rushing around this morning, when did he find time to look for goddamn candy?

“For fuck’s sake, James.” You’re speed walking towards his front door, looking at the Maps app on your phone and miss his smile at you snarling his name. 

You’re already running behind and every route to the recording studio is red due to roadworks or an accident or just plain ol’ congestion. “Shit!”

Your finger jabs at the elevator button multiple times.

“It’s not going to get there any quicker if you do that,” DG speaks lowly into your ear and you get the urge to pinch him.

Instead of prodding some more at the button, you turn around and prod him in the chest.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days,” You growl. “It’s fine for you, Diego goddamn Kang, the star who is pretty much untouchable. I’m not. I’m replaceable. There’s a million people who would take my job-”

DG snatches your hand, holds it still. “You’re not replaceable.” Then adds with an infuriating grin, “So what if we’re late.”

The minivan is skipped, and his answer to your problem is his other pride and joy. A motorbike that looks far too aggressive and a complete death trap.

“I’m not getting on that,” you say as DG hands you leathers that materialised from god-knows-where and a spare helmet.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging and throwing a leg over. “I don’t think your boss will be happy.”

“Fuck!”

.

.

If this was any other situation, you would be acutely aware of yourself pressed up against DG’s back. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Except all you can focus on is that you’re going to fucking die. You think you might be screaming.

“Stop screaming!” His disembodied voice calls out. Oh. Turns out you are.

For some reason, DG had thought the helmets with built in speakers and mic would be better for communication. Fun, even. Frankly, you’re just giving him a headache.

(Not to mention the fact that he bought a spare helmet at all. And leathers that he thought would be exactly your size.

He had never rode with anyone before and you certainly had never expressed any interest. Yet he passed by a motorcycle store when he had rare time to spare, and visited on a whim.

If he dwelled on this anymore, DG is sure his headache would turn into a full blown migraine.)

Later that night, when the ringing in his ears finally subside, he will still think about the way you held him.

.

.

When public opinion is on your side, then that’s fantastic. Amazing. You tend to get away with all sorts of things.

When it’s not, the truth can become muddied and there’s mental gymnastics from all sides painting you as the villain.

Fortunately, public opinion generally works in DG’s favour, especially in the case of his stalker who got sentenced for more jail time than if she was harassing a normal person, but not long enough to account for all the distress she has caused.

Such is the criminal justice system.

Her date of release looms large and near. DG, despite his talent and fighting prowess, realises certain traumas can’t be erased.

He grows on edge. Skittish. Snaps at any and everything. It’s noted by journalists. Other managers gives you questioning looks

You don’t miss his change in demeanour. To you, the reason behind it is obvious. 

You’ve heard about this case, everyone has. It dominated headlines for almost a month: the crazy sasaeng fan who believed herself to be DG’s girlfriend before moving onto another poor soul and was finally arrested.

As he spirals, nothing you do or say to him manages to get more than a nod or a frown. You try to offer that she had fixated on someone else before she was arrested, hoping that was a small consolation to him. And though he managed a weak smile, the black cloud still hangs over him.

In the end, you pack your bags and arrive at DG’s one evening. Instead of letting yourself in like you usually would, you ring the buzzer, smile into the door camera and tell him “It’s me!”

The door swings open to reveal DG looking perplexed (and worse for wear). Head tilting, curious and inquisitive when he sees your suitcase and carrier bags full of snacks.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“According to who?”

You barge past him anyway with a grin.

.

.

The date of his stalker’s release arrives and passes without drama.

You miss your home comforts but it makes you happy to see DG’s mood genuinely improve as the days go on.

The luxurious oversized mattress, fancy spa shower, and jacuzzi bathtub also helps to make your stay a bit more bearable.

Not to mention each morning DG actually cooks breakfast for you. Turns out he’s not bad at all at playing a househusband, and it’s also maddening how he manages to get up each day before you when he hasn’t got any place to be.

“Thanks James,” you say, when he presents you with a home cooked meal and his smile grows a bit more each day.

.

.

Peace doesn’t last.

Blurry photos of you both leaving and entering DG’s apartment at all hours of the day and night make the front page of certain news sites.

Headlines scream with leading questions. 

“Relationship beyond Manager and Idol?”

“How a Manager seduced their Idol.” 

“Who is this mystery person that has tamed DG?”

Why anyone deemed it newsworthy is beyond you. You’ve been to his apartment a million times. 

Yes, you suppose the closeness of DG and yourself in the photos can look a little suspect. 

In this particular one, it looks like you have your hand caressing his chest when in actual fact you were shoving him away for a dismissive comment he made.

And the other photo, of his hand on your wrist, was actually him dragging you away when he spotted a herd of fans in the distance.

More pictures unveil themselves.

A snapshot of you driving and DG feeding you candy.

You and DG, whispering intimately in your ear as his supercar is being towed away in the background.

You red faced and drunk as DG piggybacks you outside your building.

His jacket wrapped around you, hand on your waist and angling the umbrella over you.

Him smiling down at you (ok, you admit that you didn’t realise how soft that looks to other people.)

Finally an exceptionally pixelated image of you both on his bike, that could be anyone really.

Unfortunately, your opinion is in the minority as the articles are inundated with comments and furious, tearful fans shrieking that their idol is betraying them. 

Simply unhinged.

.

.

The speculation grows. You’re damned if you do deny anything, damned if you don’t. Your talent agency puts out an official statement.

To your ire, the statement is ‘no comment’ rather than anything more definitive. You glare at James when you find out, suspecting he has something to do with this.

He gives you a shrug, and a familiar look of mischief.

To his credit, he doesn’t leave you completely to fend for yourself. You stay off social media for your sanity, and when the paparazzi hounds you, he's the one with his arm around you, cutting a path through the crowd and shielding you.

It adds fuel to the fire. Does nothing to help your case. 

Still, you can’t help feeling safe and secure with his hand guiding you - holding onto your waist, round your shoulder, or simply - 

Your hand in his.

.

.

Outside of the conference room, where DG is wrapping up a press release for his newest album and nothing else, a reporter slinks out and approaches you.

You’re used to being on the other side of the conversation. Part of the staff, herding DG through camera flashes and questions being thrown at him though there was always some sort of camaraderie. Both parties just trying to do their job with deadlines and targets to hit.

This time you just feel a weariness as you see this person making a beeline towards you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They say, holding out their hand for a shake which you take with reluctance.

“Hi.”

A voice recorder is thrusted into your face, and you automatically take a step back. “Hope you don’t mind, but I just have a couple questions for you.”

“Um...”

“There’s been lots of sightings of you and DG together-”

You open your mouth to argue-

“Can you confirm your relationship with him?”

A vacant smile settles onto your face. It’s a practised expression where you follow all the cues to be polite and professional even as internally you wish to be anywhere but here. “I’m his manager.”

“Are you two together? Romantically?”

“I’m his manager.” You repeat through gritted teeth, and you’re surprised to hear your voice calm and collected.

“Is that a no? Or-”

“What even is this question?” You scoff, ignoring the way your cheeks heat, and refusing to partake in this circus a moment longer. “This is over.”

You manage to at least catch them looking apologetic, before you stride off into a corner to take a deep breath.

.

.

DG, much more adept and experienced at fending off questions, had finished the conference early and caught the entire exchange, watching you both with a bemused look.

Walking towards you with quiet, measured footsteps, his hand settles onto your lower back as he murmurs your name.

He bites back a laugh at your small, startled jolt.

DG tilts his head to signal ‘this way’. You give him a look but follow him regardless. Trailing behind, moving far away from other prying eyes. 

Up a flight of stairs, through multiple fire doors, turning left then right then another right then maybe a left. It doesn’t matter. You’re hopefully lost and decide to just put your faith in this wretched idol.

He finally seems to find what he’s looking for as he reaches an empty corridor; stopping mid-step and you collide into his back.

“Ack!” You exclaim, hitting the solid wall of muscle.

He lets out a huff of laughter and whirls around to face you, noting how cute your look of surprise is.

How strange though, that this is his current position. But is it really unexpected that the person that has been by his side for months has finally worked their way into his heart and has somehow learned to read him when no-one else could?

If he really thinks about it, yes actually, it is unexpected. No-one else has managed to grow close to him before. As James Lee, as Diego Kang. Birds of a feather or opposites attract or everything in between, no-one has got him like you do. 

There’s still so much more to tell and show you but… First things first.

Fidgeting, you shift your weight from one foot to another, growing self-conscious waiting for DG to talk, only to find him staring intently at your face. Impatient, you give in and speak first.

“What is it?”

“...”

“Diego-”

“James.” He cuts in abruptly, “It’s just us right now. Please.”

You blink in shock at the please and correct yourself at his insistence, lowering your voice so it doesn’t echo down the empty hallway. “James, are you ok?”

“Better than ever,” he says, a smirk now pulling at his lips.

You register his change in mood and narrow your eyes, wondering where this is going. “Why are we here?”

“When the reporter asked if we were together, you said you’re my manager.”

“I am your manager.”

“But you are interested in me.”

It’s not a question. DG, no James, says it like a fact and there’s no doubt in your mind or his. You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Open it once more-

What.

You feel some cogs in your brain misfiring and all you can manage is a feeble, “Huh?”

“You told them you’re my manager, but didn’t say no to being with me.”

“...”

“So. What do you think?”

“Of what?”

“Us.”

“You like me. Tell me that I’m wrong.”

You take a step back. “...”

Another step. “...”

“Tell me you don’t want this.”

And your back hits the wall with an oomph.

DG slaps his hand on the wall beside your head, bends at the waist and leans his weight forward until he’s eye level with you. “Tell me and I promise I’ll stop.”

“...”

You’re cornered and he searches your face for a response.“Y/N?”

“...”

Fuck. Fuck!

How on earth are you supposed to respond when he looks at you like this. When his face is millimetres from yours and his breath is on your skin and his dark eyes pierces into your soul, pupils blown deliciously wide.

With his stupid pink hair and his fringe flopping, framing his face and his high cheekbones.

The stupid canines of his poking out that gives him so much character and is so hot it hurts when he flashes it accompanied with an arched brow and an arrogant smile.

His stupid pout and his stupid lips, that you know is constantly moisturised with a fancy overpriced lip balm to make it look kissable for the cameras.

And Jesus Christ, you hate to admit it but they do. They 100% do because somewhere in the back of your brain you always knew they look kissable but it has been often clouded by just simply how annoying and bratty you found him.

Except right now you don’t find him annoying or bratty at all.

Even as he’s confessing his feelings with complete confidence, no unease, no anxiety or doubts, because he always had a way of worming under your skin and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

Damn it all.

“Kiss me,” you tell James, and he isn’t surprised at all by your reaction, face lighting up at your confirmation.

He shifts. 

Hand coming up to cup your cheek. He rubs his thumb twice over your skin, savouring you any way he can before tilting your face towards his. His lips at first brushes against your forehead. Leaves a trail down your nose, peppers both cheeks and then your chin. 

He draws back once, takes in your sweet face and gives you a smile so soft it makes your heart hurt.

Then finally, after wanting this for so long, presses his lips against yours.

Diego Kang, James Lee, tastes like candy and sugar.

[queenshelby]

Uncle Tommy (Part Three)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Niece Reader

Warning: Smut, Incest, Taboo Relations, DDLG, Dub-Con

And yes, this was a request! Please comment and engage!

For a few more nights, your uncle and you fell into a rhythm. Thomas would come to your room, under the guise of checking on you, or having a late-night conversation. He never pushed for anything beyond what had already transpired, but the tension in the room was always palpable.

Each night, his touches became bolder and each night, you surrendered yourself to him more and more willingly. It was wrong, you knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t resist the temptation that he presented.

You were young and innocent, freshly eighteen and full of unbridled desire. Thomas, on the other hand, was a man well into his forties with piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. 

After you relaxed more and more in his presence, he eventually asked you whether you would let him take your virginity.  You hesitated at first, unsure if you were ready to take such a big step with someone like him. He was your uncle after all, and the moral implications weighed heavily on your mind. 

Eventually though, you agreed and it was two nights later that Thomas took you to a hotel . The suite was lavish, the floor bathed in soft golden light that spilled from an elaborate chandelier overhead. The king-sized bed stood stately in the center of the room, dressed in plush, silver linens.

"It's aright Love. Don't be scared," he told you as you entered the room , arms trembling and heart pounding in your chest.

"But I am, Uncle Tommy. I am worried that it is going to hurt," you confessed, biting your lip nervously.

Thomas smiled reassuringly at you and took a step closer. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "It might sting a little at first, Love," he admitted softly. "But I promise it will feel good, too."

You swallowed hard and nodded your head, even as your heart continued to race a mile a minute. 

"Good girl. Now why don't undress yourself and lie down for me, eh"  Thomas said as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart beating wildly in your chest, before you started to slowly remove your clothes. Each article of clothing felt like a barrier between you and Thomas, protecting you from the vulnerability of being fully exposed. But soon enough, you were standing in front of him in nothing but your bra and panties, feeling both nervous and excited at the same time.

"That's it, Love," Thomas said, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours.

"You're so beautiful, standing there in front of me like that."

You blushed, feeling suddenly shy under his gaze. But there was no denying the heat that had bloomed in your core at his words and the way he was looking at you.

"Thank you, Uncle Tommy," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, standing half-naked in front of your own uncle, about to let him take your virginity. It was wrong, but it felt so right. Your body was trembling with anticipation as you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra.

Thomas watched you with a hungry expression as you slowly removed the last piece of clothing that covered your body. His gaze raked over your bare breasts, lingering on your hardened nipples before traveling down towards your panties.

"Now, let me take care of these," Thomas said softly as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs.

You stepped out of them, feeling incredibly vulnerable but also incredibly turned on as you stood completely naked in front of him.

Thomas's gaze seared into you as he took in every inch of your body. His eyes were filled with desire and something else, something that made your heart race even faster.

"Lie down, Love," Thomas said, his voice thick with lust as he motioned towards the bed.

You did as you were told, lying down on the soft, silky sheets and feeling exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn't believe what was about to happen.

Thomas approached the bed slowly, shedding his own clothes as he did so. He was beautiful, all hard lines and toned muscles. His cock stood proudly, thick and veiny. 

"Now I am going to give your little treasure box a few kisses first to get you nice and wet for my cock, eh?" Thomas said, as he spread your legs apart and knelt between them.

You nodded, unable to find your voice as you watched him lean down and press his lips against your pussy. His tongue snaked out and licked at your wetness, sending a shiver down your spine. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily as you felt his tongue delve into your folds.

Thomas alternated between licking and sucking at your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.

"Do you like Uncle Tommy kissing you down there, Sweetheart?" Thomas asked, his voice low and husky as he continued to lick and nibble at your slick folds.

"Oh God, yes," you moaned, your hands reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair.

Thomas took this as a sign to continue, his tongue snaking deeper into your passage with each passing second. It felt incredible, like nothing you had ever experienced before. Your hips bucked against him as you chased the release that was building deep within you but before you could get there, Tommy pulled back.

"Now Love," he said gruffly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's time for me to claim your precious little cherry," he told you as he positioned himself in between your legs.

You whimpered as you felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance. Thomas had made sure to lube himself up, ensuring that he would slip inside of you easily despite your untried state. You were soaking wet already but still, the idea of him breaching you sent a frisson of fear down your spine.

"Shhhh," Thomas crooned softly as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

"It’s alright. You’re going to feel a little pressure at first followed by a sting, but you need to hold nice and still for me now, eh" he said as, slowly, he pushed into you.

You felt your walls stretch around his girth, the pressure building to a point that made you want to push him away, desperate for relief. Then, he paused as he reached your hymen.

He leaned down to kiss you once more, tenderly and passionately. His lips tasted sweet, with a hint of your own essence. You clutched at him desperately, feeling like the world outside this room didn't matter anymore.

"Relax, sweetheart," Thomas whispered as he pulled back to look into your eyes. "Take deep breaths for me."

You closed your eyes and did as he said, breathing in and out deeply. Your heart raced, but you could feel your body relax.

Thomas murmured soft words of encouragement as he pushed forward, breaking through the thin barrier that guarded your innocence. A sharp jolt of pain shot through you, making you gasp and dig your nails into his shoulders. He paused, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, soothing away the sting of your lost virginity.

"Fuck," Thomas groaned against your lips. "You're so damn tight, Love."

You whimpered as you felt him begin to move inside of you, slowly at first before picking up the pace. It burned, but it was a delicious kind of pain that left you craving more. Your hips met his thrusts, matching his rhythm as he claimed your virginity with each passing second.

"Oh God," you cried out, burying your face in Thomas's shoulder.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He groaned, increasing the tempo as he fucked you harder and faster.

You moaned, feeling every brutal and demanding thrust deep within your core. Your body moved in tandem with his, matching him stroke for stroke as he pushed you to the brink of insanity.

"You are such a good girl, taking my cock so well," Thomas growled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

His thrusts grew harder and faster, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire body. You whimpered as you felt him hit that special spot deep inside of you, making your toes curl with every pulse.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his back as you begged for more. Thomas was happy to oblige, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you breathless.

"Does my cock feel good in your tight little hole, Love?" Thomas growled between thrusts, taking pleasure in watching your face contort with pleasure.

"Yes," you moaned, unable to form coherent sentences as he pounded into you. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, accompanied by your breathy moans and Thomas' husky growls.

"Are you going to put the white stuff inside me too?" You whispered, your voice barely louder than a breath.

Thomas grunted in response, his powerful thrusts never faltering. "Yes, Love," he said gruffly, the lust-filled haze in his eyes intensifying as his orgasm began to build. "I'm going to fill up that tight little pussy of yours with my cum."

You felt yourself grow slicker at his words, your pussy clenching around him as you imagined what it would feel like to have him spill his seed inside of you.

It was a wicked thought, and one that you shouldn't be having. But it felt too good to stop now.

Thomas must have sensed your impending release, as his thrusts became wilder and more erratic, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of your body. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, desperately chasing the orgasm that was teetering on the edge.

"Fuck, Love," Thomas groaned, slamming into you with one final thrust as he reached his own peak.

His cock twitched within your trembling walls, the sensation of him spilling his seed inside of you was almost too much to bear. It was raw and obscene, yet so incredibly erotic that you couldn't help but whimper in pleasure.

The feeling of his hot load filling you up sent you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Oh God!" You screamed, clinging to him desperately as you rode out your climax.

Your pussy gripped his cock tightly, milking every last drop of cum from his balls. Thomas groaned in pleasure, his hips still jerking as he emptied himself deep inside of you.

As the pleasure subsided, your mind began to clear and reality set in. A mixture of emotions washed over you - guilt, shame, but also satisfaction and pleasure. You couldn't believe what had just transpired between you and Thomas. It was wrong on so many levels, but it felt so right in the heat of the moment.

Tags:

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[dixons-sunshine]

Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.

Part 2

"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.

You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."

Eddie rolls his eyes.

"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.

"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.

"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."

"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.

"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"

"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."

Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.

He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.

He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.

But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.

Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"

"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"

"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."

"Until death do us part." You teased.

"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"

"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.

Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.

"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"

You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.

As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.

"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.

Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.

"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."

"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."

Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.

"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.

-

35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.

"Pants off, Munson."

"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"

"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.

"That's metal."

"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."

"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."

"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.

"Get to work, missy."

You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.

You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.

"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.

"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.

Oh.

"Eddie, are you-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.

Eddie was hard.

"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.

Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.

"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.

"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"

Eddie groans behind his arm.

"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"

Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.

"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"

"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"

"I-I’m sorry-"

"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"

You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."

"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"

You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.

"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."

Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."

"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."

You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.

"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."

"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.

"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.

"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."

"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.

"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."

You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.

Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.

"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."

You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."

"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.

"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."

"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.

"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"

Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"

You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"

"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.

"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.

"You get to keep me."

[luvyeni]

MAKE YOU MINE ,, 정성찬

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ jung sungchan x fem!reader wc. 3k

genre. smut

𓄷 includes ... age gap relationship ( not chan and reader but it is legal but toxic ), sungchans dad is horrible, cheating ( it's justifiable in my eyes ), oral sex , unprotective sex ,

「 authors note 𖹭 」 the first cheating fic where i don't feel dirty 😭

❪ masterlist! ❫

“you are one lucky fucking bastard sungchan i swear.” he came down the stairs to his friends staring out his window into his backyard.

“what are you talking abo…” he trailed off. “is she out there again?” he sighed. “bro she does this often?” shotaro slapped wonbins shoulder. “bro , i told you we should come over often.” sungchan scoffed; even though his eyes copied theirs and they now were all staring out the huge back door window— where you were sitting by the pool that left nothing to the imagination. “this makes me want to kill your dad for some reason.”

sohees words shook him right out of his thoughts. “stop looking.” he said , closing the curtains, making his friends groan. “now why would you do that?” eunseok asked. “cause of my dad comes home and finds you oogling his fucking girlfriend, he's gonna kick you out and give me shit for it.” he said. “and that's the last thing i need.”

“how’d your dad bag a hottie like that?” seunghan asked the question that he wondered everyday. “she's young and hot and your dad is well old and a little funny looking if you ask me.” wonbin said. “money obviously, it's the only thing he has going for him.” he said. “his attitude is shit, he treats her like shit; parades her around like a prize winning puppy and then leaves her here for me to take care of.” he said. “seems like you're living the dream, why are you upset?”

“what do you mean living the dream?” he questioned his friend. “you mean to tell me you never made a move on her?” shotaro asked surprised. “no.” his friends were shocked. “you, jung sungchan never tried to fuck her?” he was confused. “and risk her telling my dad? he'd have my fucking neck.” he said. “look at that.” eunseok was peeking through the curtains, you were floating around on the floaty, reading a book. “fuck, it would be a risk i’m willing to take.”

you finished your book for the day, floating back to the side of the pool, climbing out. you gathered everything you had out there, wrapping your body in your robe, making your way to the house.

“oh hi yn.” anton was the first to notice you. “hi.” you smiled, sungchan watching the guys look at you; with the look in their eyes, the same look they gave girls in the club or at school, and it pissed him off. “already all of you time to go.” he pushed them out. “you have your owns and families to terrorize, leave now.” they all groaned, you laughed watch as the boy pushed them right out the front door. “bye yn!”

the door closed, and you began to make your way up the steps. “you need to stop dressing like that when the boys are over, i told you this already.” he said. “but i covered this time.” you said, he looked at your pathetic excuse of a cover up, he could still see your pink bathing suit that did a piss poor job at covering your tits. “look when they look at you they don't see the girl dating my dad.” he said. “they see the girl their age lounging around half naked by the pool , and that makes their brains go haywire.” he said. “oh right.”

“im sorry.” you frowned, he felt bad, you were constantly being scolded by his dad, he didn't want to be the one either. “look, it's fine.” he sighed. “just put on a bathing suit that covers your boobs at least next time , go out some clothes on and i’ll order some dinner.” you nodded , walking up the steps, he let out a little smile as he watched you bounce up the steps.

“do you know when your dad will be back?” you picked at the food he put on your food. ‘probably screwing the next young girl’ he thought. “he said he would be on a work trip for a little longer.” he said, you sighed. “you think he's cheating on me?”

did you really care for his dad? “i don't know.” he said. “I know you probably think i'm with him for the money, but i really do like him.” you said. “well i did.” his ears perked up. “did?” he said. “he's so mean now, yelling at me, pushing me around only using me when he needs to save face.” you frowned, tears streaming down your face. “and then shoving his card in my face to shut me up, i feel like a live in prostitute.”

“why won't you leave them?” he asked, reaching over to wipe your face, your eyes widened at the sudden affection. “because i think maybe one day he'll change.” you said. “but i don't think it will, will it?” he didn't know what to say. “im sorry yn.” you shook your head. “no it's not your fault.” you stood up from the table. “he's the evil, not you.” you smiled sadly. “maybe it would've been better if i just dated you instead.”

that stayed in his head all night as he made his way to his room; leaving the plates for the cleaners to clean. “yn?” he knocked on the bedroom door you shared with his dad, but he didn't get an answer, he slowly opened the door, your sleeping body laid peacefully. he was about to close the door when you turned on your side , facing him, still sleeping; but the covers had fallen off of you, revealing your body; you were wearing nothing but thin tank top and some panties; he knew it was weird, but you did look so pretty.

you let out a huff of air, he quickly shut the door, sighing, making his way back to his room, closing the door. “shit.” he sat on his bed; hands in his head, his head spinning with his newest revelation, and his newest visual of you— his cock stirring in his shorts, he took his shirt off the heat radiating from his body being too much.

he laid in bed , his head against the headboard as his hands traveled down his chest , down to his shorts, he groaned as he began to palm himself. “fuck.” he cursed, pulling himself from his shorts , his cock bobbing against his stomach.

he held his hard cock in his hand, squeezing the base of his length, biting his lip as he stroked his cock up and down, his tip leaking with precum he used to wet his cock. “oh fuck.” he moaned; his thoughts going straight to you in your bathing suit, you looked so hot; he hated he had to scold you for wearing it.

his hips snapping up into his hand; squeezing his balls, as he worked himself towards his orgasm. he couldn't help it, all he could do was think about you, your lips, your body, your smile; god your smile turned him on so much, he wondered how your mouth would feel stuff full of his cock. “oh fuck yn.” he moaned out your name, his length twitching in his hand. “fuck im gonna cum.” he threw his head back as the cum shot out from his cock , hitting his chest , covering his hand.

he let his flaccid cock sit on his stomach as he came down from his high, the post nut clarity hitting; this was gonna be last time you ever jerked off to the fleeting thoughts of you; he was going turn the thoughts about fucking you into a reality; he was gonna make sure you never cried about his dumbass dad… he was gonna take you away from him.

you woke up the next morning; head hurting from crying, getting dressed for the day, before making your way downstairs, where people were rushing back and forth, which only meant one thing, he was back. “where is she?”

you walked into the kitchen. “there she is sir.” his assistant pointed to you. “is this what you do everyday sleeping in?” you sighed. “well you don't let me go to school, what else am i supposed to do?” you never talked back, afraid of what he might do. “and what would a pretty dumb thing like you do in school?”

“god dad you really know how to show your love.” sungchan came into the kitchen; he was shirtless, his abs on display, they were so much better to look at than your boyfriend's alcoholic belly. “good morning.” he smiled at you, which came to a surprise since you often never saw a smile from him unless his friends were over. “m-morning.”

“i told you about dressing appropriately while he was here.” he grabbed your arm , pulling you close to him, gritting through his teeth. “i-i just woke up, he normally doesn't get up this early.” you stuttered , sungchan watching it go down angrily. “you're such an embarrassment.” he shoved you away, taking his card out his wallet and throwing it on the table. “go get a new wardrobe.” he said, his assistant coming in. “where are you going?” you asked. “to make money so the both of you can lay around and spend it.”

“sir we have to go.” he rushed out, his team following behind him; not even muttering a goodbye or even a i love you. “you okay?” sungchan came up from behind, wrapping a comforting arm around you. “ye-yeah i'm fine.” you could feel his warm skin on yours. “what about you, you okay?” he scoffed. “please I've been called a lazy bum by that man since 4th grade.” he flagged it off. “doesn't make it right.” he watched you open the fridge grabbing a water bottle. you were right, that's why he was gonna fix it. “I'm gonna go get dressed.” you said , leaving the card. “what about this?”

“i don't want his money.” you said, he picked up the card. “i say we take it and spend as much money as the bank allows.” he smirked. “you deserve it after the shit he puts you through.” you thought about it, you did deserve it, you were tired of putting up with his shit. “let's go.” he chuckled, shaking his head as you excitedly ran up the stairs.

and spend his money you both did, both of you going into multiple different stores just buying anything your hearts wanted; even going as far as to buy things just because you picked it up; it was fun, sungchan was fun to be around actually, and not the little ingrate his father made him out to be. half way through your trip, you actually began to think again— what would've happened if you did end up dating him and not his dad?

you dropped the bags on the floor of the house , sungchan holding at least twenty on his arms, that didn't even count the ones in his car. “did we over do it?” you bit your lip nervously. “he's gonna be so mad.” he scoffed. “nothing compared to what im about to do with my online purchases.” you laughed. “we can have someone bring these to your room, go ahead and shower whatever and i’ll order dinner, steak?” you squint your eyes in suspicion. “you don't eat steak on a random sunday.” he smiled. “you ever seen how expensive they are?” you shook your head, making your way up the stairs— his mind was made up, he was doing this tonight.

“let's watch a movie.” he said after dinner. “me and you?” you questioned. “yeah, you wanna?” you nodded. “yes.” he smiled. “good, let's go.”

he guided you to the living room; you sat on the big couch, he sat directly next to you, knees touching. “what do you want to watch?” you shrugged. “anything is fine.” you replied. “you got a favorite movie?” you nodded. “i love the princess diaries.” he stared blankly. “we don't have to watch it.” he shook his head. “no I asked, i brought it on myself, let's find the princess diaries.”

sungchan wasn't paying attention to the movie; you were halfway through and he couldn't tell you anything about it; but he could tell you in full detail of your face, every blemish, every scar he could tell you. “you aren't watching this, are you?” you asked , turning to him. “no im so sorry.” he said. “i can see why you like it, but yn i don't think i can watch the second one.” you were too busy laughing to even hear his excuses. “it's okay, we can watch what you want to watch.”

“what if i want to watch you instead?” you lowered your head to conceal your smile. “that's boring no? he shook his head. “with how pretty you are? no.” he could see you liked that. “god you're smiling so hard , he never complimented you like that?” you shook your head. “jesus , he's fucking blind if he doesn't think so.”

before you could say anything, his lips were on yours; his hands on the side of your face, holding you in place, lowing you down on the couch. “wa-wait.” you pulled away breathless. “we can't do this, chan im with your dad.” he scoffed, hovering above you. “and how is that going for you?” he kissed your neck, your hand came up to his hair. “come on yn.” he was slotted in between your legs, giving him access to grind his pelvis into you. “su-sungchan.” you whimpered.

“let me make you feel so much better.” he lifted your shirt over your head , kissing down the valley of your breast. “way better than he ever made you feel.” he kissed your waistband, coming back up to your face to kiss you. “let me touch you.” he squeezed your boob. “fuck you.” you moaned, he smirked. “you like that?” he teased. “you want me to fuck you?” you nodded. “y-yes.”

“good girl.” he sat back, pulling his shirt off, your eyes scanning his abs. “you like?” he questioned. “you were staring at them this morning, right in front of him, like you didn't even care that he was there.” you felt his hand grabbing the waistband of your shorts , pulling them down. “such a pretty body , god my dad is so fucking stupid.” he got in between your legs, holding your legs over his shoulders. “gonna eat this pretty pussy.” he kissed in between your thighs.

“fuck you smell good.” he pulled your panties to the side, your glistening folds, sweet scent; you whimpered about to beg him to do something before he licked a strip up your folds. “ch-chan.” you moaned out hands threading in his hairs, yanking it as he made out with your cunt, drowning himself in you, it was better than anything he'd tasted before.

“fuck!” you yelped as he suck on your sensitive clit. “chan i'm gonna cum.” you felt his tongue going in and out of you, he was moaning against your heat, like he was getting more pleasure out of it than you were. “fuck im cumming.” he pulled away catching his breath, before licking you clean. “ch-chan.”

he pulled away , wiping his mouth with a smirk. “fuck eating this pussy is gonna be my new pass time.” he pulled his pants down. “you want my cock baby?” he stroked himself lining up to your entrance, he was much bigger to what you were used to. “it's not gonna fit.” he hissed, you were so cute, it made him just want to stretch you full of his cock inside you. “fuck baby, we'll make it fit.”

holding your legs still, pushing himself inside your warm cunt. “oh fuck you're so tight.” he hissed, your cunt sucking him in. “old man must've not been fucking you right , this pussy feels like it hasn't been touched in a long time.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy, he had never felt like this before; he was about to cum before he could even fuck you.

“deeper ch-chan.” your nails dug into his arms as he fully seethed himself inside you. “fuck baby you feel that.” he brought your hand to your stomach a small bump forming. “that's me right there, i'm in your tummy right now.” you moaned. “please fuck me, make me forget him.”

that's all he needed before pulling out. “gonna make sure you never want to fuck that old man again.” he slammed back inside you. “shit!” held your hands above your head as he repeatedly slammed inside you, repeating his name over and over, moaning in his ear , you felt like heaven around him. “fuck princess , this pussy is molding to my cock.” he cursed. “fuck chan.”

“this is my pussy now.” he grunted, “you're mines , gonna take care of you.” he let your hands go, they flew to his back, scratching him up. “fuck that bastard.” you moaned out. “gonna cum chan.” he reached in between your bodies, rubbing your clit. “cum for me.”

he felt your legs shaking, cunt tightening around him. “oh fuck love you're squeezing my dick, gonna cum inside you.” his thrust started to falter. “gonna cum baby.” he stilled himself inside you , his cum shooting inside of you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt him empty himself inside you. “good girl.”

…

“your dad must've been fucking pissed.” sungchan shrugged. “what's he gonna do.” he smirked. “take your ass right out the will.” shotaro said. “yeah? and have to tell everyone what happened? yeah no he'd never face embarrassment.”

“sungchan!” he smiled hearing your voice, you'd become much happier since that day, gaining all your confidence back , even started attending college again; all thanks to sungchan. “hey baby.” you ran into his arms, sitting down next to him , waving hello to all his friends. “what are you guys talking about?” sungchan kissing the side of your head.

“how i took you from my dad.”

©LUVYENI

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can u write james getting caught masturbating in a pool float because he couldn't stop staring at fem!reader in her bikini end it ends up freaky 😭😭

A/n: love this idea so much hope you like my ✨rendition✨ of it <3

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Just realize his nose is red

Your older brother was friends with James’ older half-brother since they’d worked together. You and James were around the same age but weren’t all too close, nonetheless you were dragged over to his place more than once and it only got worse when his band started taking off.

He got a nice house with a pool in the back and wanted to show it off, once again you were dragged along. You stayed in the shade and enjoyed the warm weather while you read at the poolside, that was until yours and James’ brothers had to leave for work or something, you weren’t listening when they were leaving.

James came over, staying in the pool as he spoke. “You coming in or you plan on keeping your streak of being boring?” He teased.

You set your book down. “What?”

James scoffed. “Oh, come on, you’re always boring, you never do anything fun.” You chewed your cheek a moment the stood and walked away. “What, you’re just leaving?”

“I’m not changing in front of you?” You called as you went inside.

You returned a moment later with a towel wrapped around you. James was on a pool float and watching you curiously. You dropped your towel and set it with the rest of your stuff, not missing the loud splash behind you.

You spun around and saw James coughing up water, his hair completely drenched.

You smirked as you came over and sat on the edge of the pool and dipped your feet into the water. “Fall in?”

James coughed a few more times before he regained his composure. “I slipped.” He mumbled. He reached for an inflatable ball and tossed it at you, you swatted it out of the way and slid into the pool.

It was deep enough you couldn’t quite stand but James could, he came over and let you hold onto him so you didn’t have to work so hard to have a conversation.

Once you got talking to him he was nice. He’d float around on his back and let you use him as a float. He was invested in your life, asking questions and follow up questions, laughing and teasing.

You never guessed it, he was always so loud and obnoxious around you.

Even so, you did have a crush on him when you first met. He was tall, had strong arms and his hair looked so soft. His jawline, lips, his eyes all captivated you. Watching him play guitar had you going weak in the knees.

You were talking when your stomach growled. You paused and James laughed. “Hungry?” You scoffed and made your way to the edge of the pool.

You tried to pull yourself out of the pool but couldn’t quite do it yourself so James helped you, holding your hips in a tight grip, waiting an extra second before letting go once you were out of the pool. You thanked him and hurried inside.

James stared at you blankly, his jaw slack as he watched your ass shake when you moved. He could feel his swim trunks getting tight but he ignored it and just tried to keep floating around, eventually getting onto an actual pool float.

He laid there in the sun, letting his mind wander. He thought about you in your bathing suit, the way you moved, then he couldn’t stop himself.

He thought about you naked and between his legs, looking up at him with teary eyes as you took his cock down your throat. He thought about you on top of him and using him to get off. He thought about you beneath him, moaning and begging for more as he fucked you, how you’d call out his name, the face you’d make when he made you cum.

“James..?” You asked hesitantly as you sat on the edge of the pool, effectively drawing James from his thoughts.

His mind was foggy and his breathing was heavy. He followed your gaze and his eyes widened when he saw his hard cock in his hand. He panicked to cover himself, rocking the float and falling off again.

He managed to get himself back in his trunks by the time you'd gotten over to him. Your hands were on his shoulders to keep yourself afloat, James hands went to your waist, holding you close to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I was just-" You kissed him, he didn't hesitate to return it.

Your legs wrapped around him, your arms around his neck as his hands ventured over your body, teasing and groping whatever he could reach. He pushed you against the side of the pool as he started kissing down your neck, groaning softly as you rubbed against his hard on.

He kept kissing down your body, lifting you up so you were sitting on the edge. He tugged at your bottoms, you tried to help him get them off before he ripped the stringed sides off. You gasped softly, enamored by his strength once more.

Fuck, the look of pure and utter awe in his eyes as he stared at your cunt. He pulled you right to the edge, your knees over his shoulders as he licked between your glistening folds, sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub while his skilled fingers went to work on your needy hole.

He groaned as he pushed a finger into you, your gummy walls sucking him in deeper. You hands went to his hair, tugging on it and pulled him closer to you.

Between his tongue and his fingers fucking you and stretching your hole for him you were already close. Your moans got louder and James chuckled, sending vibrations through you.

James pulled away and you whined the sudden loss of friction. You stared down at James who looked off over the hedges behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, breathing heavy and mind running wild, you heard the sound of kids screaming and playing around.

You looked back to James, eyes wide. “Don’t worry.” He said and pulled himself out of the water. You took a moment to admire his taut body, muscular arms, broad shoulders, the prominent tent in his trunks. “They can’t hear us inside.” He grinned, reaching his hand out to pull you up.

You got up with him and excitedly followed him inside, forgetting for a moment how exposed you were.

You barely made it through the door before his lips were on yours again and he was lifting you onto the kitchen island.

He dropped his trunks and let out a groan as he pushed into you. “Fuck, if I’d known you’d feel this good I wouldn’t’ve waited so long.” He started kissing your neck, biting when he heard moans he was particularly fond of. “Sound so pretty when I do that.” He gleamed, sounding so proud of himself for making you feel this way.

“Jamie-Jamie, please move.” You mumbled, rolling your hips. James chuckled and pulled his hips back before snapping them into yours.

“Like that?” You nodded, moaning softly. James continued to kiss your neck, trailing down to your collarbone as he fucked you.

Your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close as you leaned back on the cool stone counter top. Your moans echoed off the pristine walls along with James’ low grunts and skin slapping.

James’ wet hair framed his face, a few strands sticking to him. His jaw was slacked, his eyes locked onto where your bodies connected, how your hole kept pulling him back in, the bulge in your stomach with every thrust.

“Hah-! Fuck, James, feels s’good.” You moaned, head falling back. That familiar warmth bundled in your gut, ready to burst at any second. James brought his hand to your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

You gasped, eyes shooting open as you came undone. James wrapped his arms around you, his movement speeding up as he chased his own high. He pulled you off the counter and you cling to him, still relishing in the feeling of him moving inside you, how he pushed against your insides, hitting every spot.

A string of curses left him as he came, his thrusts finally coming to a halt.

He pulled out of you but kept holding you, knowing your legs would be weak. He watched his cum deep out of you and drop on the tiled floor and down your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “you’re really making a mess.” He said with a laugh. You swatted are his chest.

He kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back. “You got anywhere to be tonight?” He asked, looking down at you with soft eyes.

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart's honeymoon 🥹🥹🥹

The way I ran to Google Docs to write this, not just because I love me some fluffy smut, but also because I love you.

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Relaxing on the beach, giving your new husband a sexy surprise...what more can you ask for?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), p in v, breeding kink (of course), Ms. Sweetheart/Reader wears lingerie

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Big thank you and smoochy kisses to @jo-harrington for helping me make this piece body-inclusive, and to @corroded-hellfire for ensuring the breeding kink was on point.

August 1998

“What a day.” Eddie flops onto the king-size bed face first, still in his wet swim trunks. Sand sticks to the bottom of his feet; you swear he’s traipsed in half the beach. “Who knew lounging in the sun could be so exhausting? I don’t know how we’re gonna go back to our normal lives.” He flips over onto his back so his words are no longer muffled. “Like, my body might be back in Hawkins, but my mind will be in Myrtle Beach.”

You laugh, arms crossed over your chest and pressed against the thin fabric of your cover-up. “Can you drag yourself into the shower and wash off?” When he doesn’t move, you let your fingertips dance along the sole of his foot. He giggles maniacally and reflexively, drawing inwards. 

“Dammit, okay, okay!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up to an upright position. “The things you do to get me naked…”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes dismissively as though his suggestion is absurd—even though that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. 

As soon as you hear the squeak of the spigot and the ensuing stream of water, you unzip your suitcase and rifle through until you find what you’re looking for. You feel it before you see it, fingers grasping the lacy fabric triumphantly. 

You shed the flower-printed cover-up, catching a glimpse in the mirror of yourself in your swimsuit. Eddie had picked it out for you—a one-piece that hugged you in all the right places. Truthfully, you could wear this and it would turn him on, but this is your honeymoon, and you want it to be special. 

Peeling off the damp suit, you toss it aside; it lands on the floor with a comical thwack, and you make a mental note to pick it up later. 

The teddy you’d bought weeks ago suddenly looks daunting, purchased during a trip to the mall with Jess. She’d insisted that no honeymoon is complete without some lingerie, and you’d reluctantly given in after she’d assured you multiple times that Eddie would, quote, “lose his goddamn mind.”

Soft black cups perfectly hold your breasts in place, accentuating your decolletage. The sheer mesh covering your torso is embroidered with lace roses, leaving just enough to the imagination. 

All right, you can admit it—you look good. 

You lounge on the small sofa that faces the bathroom, adjusting the bodysuit’s thin straps as you wait for the steadily falling water to cease, punctuated by several rogue drops. Your heart leaps with excitement as you hear the door knob twist and you’re bathed in a plume of steamy air. 

“Surprised you didn’t try to join—holy hell.” Eddie exhales with a grin, taking in your scantily-clad body. A white towel is slung low on his hips, sopping up the water trickling from his curls. “Where did you get this little number, baby?”

Heat creeps into your cheeks as he saunters toward you, one hand finding the small of your back while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, his burgeoning erection pressing against your bare thigh.

“Got me all worked up just by looking at you, Mrs. Munson,” he murmurs into your lips. It sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he deepens his embrace, pulling you as close as he possibly can.

Your fingers dip beneath the towel, tugging it from where it’s tucked along his waist and letting it drop. He’s fully exposed, and it takes all of your willpower to keep up this game of seduction and refrain from kissing down his happy trail.

“Since you’re so tired tonight, baby,” you coo, nipping at his earlobe as you speak, “I figured I could take care of you.” Your palms journey the expanse of his chest, draping them over his shoulders and guiding him onto the bed. The fresh bed sheets are crisp underneath your knees as you straddle him, grinding your core against his. “‘S that okay?”

Eddie nods, letting out an incredulous breath. “Course, yeah, whatever you want…” He sits up slightly, mouth drawn to your breasts as though pulled by a magnet. 

“I want you,” you tell him, sucking bruises into his neck that you hope will last until you return home. “I want you inside me, filling me up, making me feel so, so good…”

The fabric between your thighs is already soaked with proof of your desire, and you shift it over so you can sink down onto his hardened length. You take him inch by inch, the tip breaching your hole and stretching you in its delicious, familiar way.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, bringing his hands to the flesh of your ass and giving your movements more stability. Each rock of your hips draws a moan from your husband’s plush lips, his tongue darting out to wet them every so often. “Eddie, oh, my god!”

His grip on your ass tightens as you clench around him and continue to bounce. “‘M close,” he grunts, breath hitching as he begins slamming up into you to chase his release. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight…can’t hold back any more…” He speaks through gritted teeth, purely animalistic in nature. 

Your middle finger finds your clit, rubbing small circles into it. The small movements drive both you and Eddie absolutely wild. 

“Thassit…touch yourself for me,” he groans, barely audible above the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin and the way you’re drenching him right now. “You look so goddamn perfect like this, filled to the brim with my cock.”

“Wanna be filled with your cum, too,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your own orgasm. “Wanna take all your cum, Eddie, like a good little wife.”

Eddie’s eyes practically roll back in his head. “My good little wife, all barefoot and pregnant…fuckfuckfuck…takeittakeittakeit.” With a final few thrusts, he spills into you with everything he has. His grasp loosens as he softly kisses your arms, desperate to remain close to you in any way possible. 

“So,” you start with a giggle, gently moving off of him so you can cuddle into his perspiration-slick chest, “looks like you got a second wind.”

He tilts your chin up, his eyes studying your face like a precious gemstone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get a third, okay, Sweetheart?” He winks, thumb gliding up and down your jawline. “Keep that sexy outfit on f’me, though. I’m not done with either of you.”

--

[piratesfromspace]

Just Like Old Times PART 2 (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price + Reader x 141 Rated: Explicit Word count: 4.3k Summary: Some flirting, hot springs, a cosy cottage in the snow, and lots of sex Note: This is the part 2 I promise with lots of smut, enjoy!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, smoking, praise kink, heavy smut, fivesome, oral, PiV, light ass play, overstimulation, dom/sub vibes, aftercare, fluff

MASTERLIST // PART 1

It doesn’t happen this very night, but the day after. 

The men are a little bit more rested after their long trek out in the open, and they are all very enthusiastic when you suggest a short hike to reach the hot springs hidden in a small valley just east of your cottage. It’s too remote from the touristy locations for random people to show up there, or for amateur hikers to stumble upon by accident. You’ll be alone and safe. And warm - most importantly. And it’s also a convenient opportunity to see them half naked. 

The hot springs are tucked against the side of a small glade, where the snow melts to reveal rocky arrangements forming shallow pools. Steam hovers above the clear water, signaling its warmth. The afternoon is sunny enough to make the snow gleam, painting a decor so pretty even the rugged men around you remark on it.

“Gosh lass, you didn’t lie when you told us about this place” Soap’s voice shakes you out of your contemplation. 

“Hope you don’t mind but I did not bring a bathing suit for our snow trip” Gaz is already stripping down, ready to dive into the steaming water. You take a beat too long to respond, mouth open at the vision of Gaz’s very naked and very ripped chest, muscles of his back rippling as he’s trying to remove his boots as quickly as he can. 

“Don’t you worry, she’s seen a lot worse back in the days”. It’s Price who comes to your rescue, a mischievous glint in his deep blue eyes fixed on your face. Warmth pricks at your cheeks - and it’s not because of the springs. It’s true though, you’ve seen quite a lot of men in all states of undress during your previous life. Missions after missions after training sessions after stays in the infirmary, you all tend to lose any sense of modesty. A body is a body after all. Just that. You repeat yourself as you undress as well - still, you intend on keeping the two-piece bathing suit you put on under your winter gear before leaving. You also try to keep your eyes down as the men strip and sink in one of the natural pools with satisfied grunts bordering on moans. Their sinful sounds don’t help with the warmth already creeping up your face. 

The steam covering the surface and the warping of the water does a good enough job at hiding the most intimate parts of their bodies. It’s not enough to hide how massive their bodies are though. You catch the glimpse of reddish or silvery scars on a muscular back or on a corded forearm. Dark hairs are dusted on the large pectorals of Price and Soap, while Gaz and Ghost are more smooth. 

Ghost has kept his usual facemask, even though he traded the skull mask for a printed balaclava, with a wider opening, framing doe-like brown eyes looking intently at you under blond lashes. He’s the biggest of them all - and it’s saying something considering Price and the two younger soldiers are far from small men - the level of the water had visibly raised when he lowered himself into the shallow pool. He beacons you with a nod of his head, and you finally muster enough courage to remove the last of your garment - except for your bathing suit - and join them in the water. They’re nice enough to not make any comment on your choice of covering yourself while they are shameless in their nudity.

The enveloping warmth of the spring is a blessing for your body, immediately soothing the goose bumps you got from the cold. You let yourself relax until the little waves are lapping at your nape, free of the hair you carefully tied up earlier. Your whole body goes slack as you take deep breaths, and close your eyes, sun rays lazily kissing the skin of your face. On your right, Price is doing the same, and when you readjust your posture, your arm brushes against his, and then your thigh touches his leg. You don’t move away though, you both stay like that for a moment, the joyful chatting of Soap and Gaz on the other side of the pool, a surprisingly relaxing background noise. The simple contact with his skin is warming you up from the inside, the memory of the kiss he gave you last night making you unconsciously squirm against him, clenching your thighs together. You’re feeling… hot. And the temperature of the water is not the only thing to blame. 

“Stop it, love.” the warning is uttered in a low gravelly voice, that does the exact contrary of what it was intended for. Liquid heat blooms between your legs as Price pairs his remark with a solid hand catching your right knee, immobilizing your whole leg. 

“Stop it, or I will be tempted to catch on all the time we missed.” It’s still a warning, but definitely not a threat, his voice goes gentler, almost sad at the last words. Fuck. That’s what did it a decade earlier, what made you cave in to your attraction for this man, the intoxicating mix of confidence - in his skills and authority - and vulnerability - emotions and kindness just bubbling under the surface. 

You can’t let this chance slip. Not again. Last night, you stopped at kissing, even though you wanted more, and you’ve been desperately horny since. You catch his hand on your knee, guiding it higher along your thigh, until it reaches the hem of your bathing suit. “What if I don’t mind it?” you whisper back, angling your body to better face him.

You can see the internal fight on Price’s face. 

“They will see” he mumbles, looking above your shoulders to the three men chatting just a few feets away. 

“I also don’t mind that…” you answer against the side of his head, pushing the words out before you chickens out  “... do you?”.

“I did not remember you to be such a menace” he chuckles darkly, before one arm snakes around your waist and lifts you up so you’re fully braced against his side. His other hand dips under the band of your bottom to cup your cunt. Your lips part around a gasp. His skin is somehow even hotter than the water. The hand on your back climbs until it clasps on your nape, bending your head in the crook of his neck, at a not-so-successful attempt at muffling your sounds. 

The captain waits for you to settle before he dips the pads of his fingers between your folds, grazing at your entrance where they meet the sirupy evidence of your desire. The tranquil water is not enough to wash away the sticky liquid, and Price takes advantage of it to glide effortlessly up your slit until he finds your aching clit. You stifle another gasp when he starts rubbing it in slow circles. 

“Quiet love” He squeezes your neck, trying to remind you of your surroundings - and especially of your audience. You don’t dare look behind you, but you can imagine how you look. For Price’s men, it must look like he has you in a tight hug, which is telling already. But if you start moaning on top of that, it’s not gonna look like a chaste hug for long. 

It’s difficult not to though, because the length of you is plastered against his formidable body, your tits pressed on his chest, he has you straddling one of his thighs, and you can feel his hard dick pulsing against your leg. Your teeth bite into your lower lip in an attempt at staying silent, and you would be scared to draw blood if you weren’t too far gone. Price’s fingers keep their pressure on your clit while he keeps you pinned to him with nowhere to go, and you know you’re not gonna last. Not when it feels so good to be in his arms, to feel his warm skin, and underneath it the strong muscles that keep you at his mercy. Not when he remembers exactly how to touch you to make you shiver in pleasure in mere seconds. Not when his most loyal men are probably looking at you from the other side of the pool. The idea that they might actually be, that they might understand what their Captain is doing to you, that they might even get hard at the view - you feel so dirty at admitting it, but it is what really makes you go over the edge. 

You come with a silent sob, biting into Price’s shoulder, until he redirects your mouth on his own. He kisses you with a hunger, a desperate thirst, like it pains him to want you this much. You answer with your own passion, careless in your display of affection for him. Low whistles and impressed Damn, captain erupt from the three other men. You part from Price with a chuckle, still not daring to look behind you. Until you feel someone gently tugging at your wrist. 

“Don’t keep her all to yourself Captain” Gaz beautiful eyes find yours, checking if you’re okay to follow him. You’re pretty sure he’s the only one to be able to snatch something from Price’s lap without too much trouble. John grumbles something that is lost in your soft laughs as Gaz brings you back with him near Soap and Ghost. 

“Now, tell us a story from your time with our Captain, I’m sure you have some funny ones!” he offers, and you comply, not minding the fact Gaz’s hand is still on your wrist, absentmindedly drawing circles in your skin with the tips of his calloused fingers.

❄️

You get back to the cottage just before sunset. The heater is still broken, but it’s a blessing in disguise, corelling you all into the living room, where the nice warmth of the fireplace makes for a mellow atmosphere. Soap has managed to find your stash of scotch, a vice you don’t indulge often in, but you still keep a few bottles at hand, to celebrate happy occasions or cushion hard news. You guess your reunion with Price is worth bringing those bottles out. 

The evening feels like one of those too-perfect fuzzy memories, made of laughter, comfort food and enough of the brown liquorous beverage to dull the last of your awkwardness around those newfound friends. Price has procured a cigar, spicy smoke weighing heavy on your senses. Someone has chosen a vinyl from your collection and turned on the old record player. Slow tempo music with suggestive lyrics. Gaz tugs you up from the ground, has you two sway along to the song - he moves his hips with a disconcerting easiness. You don’t really know what you’re doing, but he’s happy enough you follow him. You laugh in the dance, and he gets bolder, holding you closer with each new chorus. It drives you crazy.

Your earlier release at the hand of Price is long forgotten, and your whole body has been on fire since you came back from the hot springs. You can feel how embarrassingly wet you are, every little touch to move you out of the way in the kitchen, to lead you to your seat on the couch, every time they lay a finger on your waist, your arm, or even your face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. Everything they do to you makes you go crazy with want. Of course Price is the bolder of them all, large palms holding your hips while you step on a chair to reach something high in your kitchen, kisses stolen in the corridor, hungry eyes following your every move. 

He might be guilty of teasing you to death, but the three others are not that innocent either. And Price is letting them. He’s very clearly allowing them to flirt, watching with a small smile as they make you laugh, as they make you crave their attention. Yes, guilty, they are all guilty. And you’re their very willing victim.

Your glass is still in hand, your eyes are half closed. Ghost and Soap are sitting side by side on your couch, bodies relaxed, eyes on you and Gaz. Simon’s balaclava is bunched up on his nose, still hiding a part of his face, but allowing him to sip on his - yours actually - scotch. He’s watching you dance like you’re the prettiest girl in the club, although his hand is possessively holding Soap’s knee. You noticed they were close, but you did not expect this open display of affection. It means they trust you to some extent. It flatters your ego, makes you balance your hips more boldly.

As the song comes to an end, Gaz has you in a tight embrace with your back against his firm chest, his hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips so close from your nape, you wish he would kiss you there already. It’s not calculated, more instinct than wit, but you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side, baring your neck to his mouth. It must be instinct from his part also, because he immediately takes the bait and lays a gentle kiss on the side of your neck. You leave out a shaky exhale at the sensation and sink a little more against him. He leaves another kiss, a little lower, going down where your neck meets your shoulder. And another one. It’s not about instinct anymore, it’s deliberate, it’s a clear choice. The gentle warmth of the alcohol, the smoke of the cigar, the tiredness of the afternoon spent in the water - it all makes your body pliant and your mind happily dizzy.

“Let us thank you for the stay, lovie” Kyle murmurs against the shell of your ear, his hands solid on your hips, leaving no doubt as to how they intend to thank you. The shock of his demand forces you to use your brain for a second. You kinda knew this was coming - you wished it too. But it’s one thing to fantasize about it, and another to live up to it. Your eyes fly open to Price, searching for his opinion on this. Not hard to guess he already had his word to say in the situation, but still. 

“Don’t look at me. It’s up to you darling.” His voice is thick, thicker than usual. “You can say no. At any time.” he adds, words carefully chosen. The fire in his eyes when you nod your consent matches the fire between your legs.

Price rises from his chair while Kyle stays glued to your back, holding you upright, like an offering to his Captain. John stands in front of you, locks eyes with you and takes a long inhale on his cigar. His hand catches your chin, and he bends toward you until his mouth is a hair away from yours. You willingly part your lips to let him breathe out the smoke in your lungs. You can’t take it all, and the smoke spills out, engulfs your field of view, drowning you in the smell you have learned to recognize as his. Something rich and spicy, heavy and masculine, powerful and his, his, his- 

Price takes advantage of the way the smoke makes you even dizzier to kiss you on the lips. A hungry kiss, mirroring the one he gave you when he had you in his lap earlier in the springs. Before you close your eyes to focus on the way his tongue is licking inside your mouth, you vaguely register Ghost getting up and taking the cigar from his captain’s hand to let it drop in the ashtray. You feel his giant presence, can feel him nuzzling at the top of your head, smelling your hair, fingers ghosting over your shoulder and upper arm. It’s becoming overwhelming very quickly to be surrounded by them, and if not for Gaz holding you upright against him, you’re not sure you would still be standing up. 

Simon’s fingers find their way down your arm, until he gently takes your hand. His hold is feather-light, leaving you the opportunity to retreat. It’s a stark contrast with the raw strength you know he’s capable of. Price reluctantly stops kissing you, his large palms still holding your jaw from both sides angling your face towards his lieutenant. He wouldn't want for you to miss the show of Simon’s tongue peeking from his rosy lips to give a little lick at the pad of your fingers. Once, then twice. He groans, content with the taste of your skin. A predator confirming he caught the right prey. Without any warming he engulfs two of your fingers in his mouth, and sucks on the digits like he’s trying to get to the marrow of your bones. But instead of sharp teeths, all you get is the strange feeling of warmth and wetness, the powerful swipe of his tongue - he’s the one shoving your hand in his mouth, yet you have the intuition the big bad wolf is just a lost pet looking for a master. You press your fingers on his tongue, and down, until your flesh is flush against his teeth, and you keep pressing. He has no choice but lowering down too, unless he risks hurting you. 

The hands of Price and Gaz on your body tighten ever so slightly, when Simon finally puts his knees on the floor. With just two fingers between his lips, you have managed to make the giant kneel at your feet. He’s gazing at you with glassy eyes, the black make-up fading on his skin making his blond lashes pop. 

Simon nuzzles against your legs, and despite him being on his knees, his impulse for action is still there. He pushes his face against your crotch, his balaclava is bunching up on his nose and the bump of the fabric is providing some nice friction against your clothed cunt. Definitely not enough to quench your desire, but it’s welcome. It’s visibly an offense to Ghost that you’re still wearing clothes, so while Price is taking your attention with passionate kisses, he removes your pants and panties, until you can feel the air against your tender flesh. You’re already dripping, you can feel it against your inner thigh.

That’s when Soap, who is behind Ghost, a hand under his balaclava, fisted in his hair, pushes his face against your weeping cunt. Simon gives your folds a broad lick, and you let a heavy sigh out on Price’s lips. Ghost is lapping at you without any shame, his wicked tongue goes everywhere, no inch of the delicate skin between your legs is free from his attention. You have to grasp at Price’s shirt to steady you, because you’re squirming from the delicious wet warmth on your cunt. Gaz is still behind you, supporting you upright. His hands have found their way on your ass, he’s playing with the supple flesh, fingers inching between your cheeks. 

“Can I touch you here?” he whispers, his breath hot on the shell of your ear, and you nod your consent without second thought. He lets his broad hands wander fully between your ass cheeks, thumbs gently petting at your hole. Each sensation is not entirely new, but layered like this, happening all at the same time - it’s so much, intoxicating in the best sense. Ghost tongue in your cunt is making sinful noises, and you’re drowning in it all, body fully shivering between all of them. You feel a knot tighten in your gut with alarming speed, and you come for the first time of the night, moaning against Price’s neck. 

Price sweeps you off wobbly legs, and places you delicately on one of the mattresses. After this first orgasm, the warmth of the fire with the softness of the many blankets makes for a divine sensation. 

“All good love? Wanna keep going?” John asks, his blue eyes set on your face, looking for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

“Yes!” you answer with a fervor that makes the men chuckle.

“Wanna taste you too, hen” it’s Soap - he lies between your legs, folds them on your chest, so he can look at your cunt like it’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, before starting to lick, drinking the juices from your previous orgasm. He’s eating you messily but with enthusiasm, spending some time fucking you with his toungue, his thumb pressing on your clit. Your soft moans soon fill the air. It makes him bolder, and he goes even lower, his tongue licking at your puckered hole, not searching to go in, but feasting on every patch of skin he can find between your thighs.

Ghost is kneeling again, this time next to your head. He bends at the waist to kiss your mouth, making you taste yourself on his lips. He’s disciplined in the way he kisses you. After Price’s hunger, it’s a clear contrast. He makes you submit to his rhythm and is not afraid to make you feel the scrape of his teeth on your already swollen lips. He’s precise, sharp, calculated. Unlike you, he can’t be easily overwhelmed, and if you can coax a reaction out of him, it’s only because he lets you. 

Soap has you come on his tongue, and you don’t even have the time to let your legs go down before Price hoists them on his shoulders. An undignified little yelp escapes your lips in confusion and surprise that John is quick to sooth. 

“Shhh love, I’m here, you’re ok.” his gravelly voice making you so insanely hot that it has you clench on nothing. You’re not empty for long though. He fills you up in one slow inescapable move. It burns, but in a good way, a searing warmth seizing your whole body. The stretch is a lot. It has you clamp up on him, in a vicious reaction circle. 

“Fuck, you’re… a… lot.” you whimper, eyes shut to try and focus on relaxing.

“Don’t fight it” you recognize Ghost’s voice. “You’re doing great, bonnie” Soap echoes. “Breathe, gorgeous” Gaz adds. 

You open your eyes to see the three men in various states of undress, lounging on the mattresses around you both. Their gaze is fixed on you both, eager for the show you’re offering.

“Look at me, love.” John falls on his forearms, folding you in two. He cradles your face in his big palms, demanding for your full attention - the blue of his eyes is so dark, yet they are shining, like you’re watching a night sky full of stars. 

“You’re perfect. Your body is perfect. I know you can take it.” He punctuates his affirmation with a delicious rolling thrust of his hips, that has your lips part around a soft moan. 

“So let me make you feel good”

You can’t remember a single time in your life when you felt this good. This level of passion, not only from one person, but from four men. They take turns and team up to make you feel good. There are too many fingers and tongues on your body for you to count - sucking at your tits, leaving bruising kisses on your neck, hitting the most sensitive places inside of you, rubbing at your swollen clit. They discover they love giving a spank or two to your ass to hear you cry out in surprise then laugh and groan when the gentle heat of the blow reaches your cunt. They tie your wrists with a scarf for a minute, so you won’t disturb them in the very important task of finding out which one of them can make you come the fastest.

You love what they do to you, but you also want to please - want them to feel a tenth of the pleasure they offer. You follow the trail of hair on Soap’s belly with your mouth until you reach the tip of his cock. You ride Price until the muscles of your thighs give out. You swallow every drop of Gaz’s cum. You let Ghost come on your chest. 

“you’re taking me so well” “look at you, so pretty” “there you go, just like that, perfect" "you’re so good for us" 

You bask in their encouragement, let your brain short-circuit with their heady dirty talk, let your body go floaty, your limbs grow sore, let your flesh bruise under ravenous lips, let your skin get covered in sweat and spit and cum and your own wetness. The night is not young anymore when you shatter one last time on Price’s cock. He gently lay down your legs from his shoulders where they were perched. You don’t have any strength left in you to protest when Simon sits between your open legs to lick you clean for a couple minutes, ignoring your soft whines of overstimulation. It’s Gaz who comforts you, letting you know how good you’ve been, that you need to let them clean you up. He gently pets your hair while Simon and Johnny return with a damp clean cloth and try their best at cleaning your skin, before cleaning themselves. 

They help you into a warm hoodie - it’s so oversized it obviously belongs to one of them. They feed you pieces of dried fruit, tilt a cup of water to your lips, cuddle with you in front of the fireplace. The crackling of the fire is the background to their gentle chats and laughs, and the occasional muffled moans when Ghost keeps his lips on Soap’s neck. The view is sinful - those two men, built like Greek gods, half-naked, kissing each other - it would be enough to re-ignite your desire if you weren’t feeling so sore. And yet there’s something more than lust between them, something tender you guess they don’t show often. 

You eventually drift to sleep against Price, his body solid and warm by your side. Just like old times, you think just before he gently kisses your forehead - and you fall asleep understanding that maybe love has no fixed timeline.

[toxicanonymity]

Cargo. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 4)

3.1k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader 18+ / pt 1 / master list

His arms loosen and you turn around to face him.  Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You try to kiss him and he dodges you again, going for your neck instead. . . He starts giving you a light hickey.  "You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  | next: part 5

Thank you @dark-scape for the mood board (and sounding board).

CONTENT WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ Noncon somnophilia just the tip (don't get too excited) dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral (M receiving), alcohol, reader wears his shirt, excessive dialogue, elvis reference, sex work references, NO HOG BBQ YET SORRY- It took on a life of its own, needed its own part (next Sunday) and I think you'll see why the pacing is better that way.

Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-face All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.

-

The hotel shampoo and body wash smell like Joel after his shower, which makes you want to take the bottles with you.  After your bath, you lounge on your bed in a towel, air-drying, finishing the movie, and replaying the night in your mind.  Mainly how hot Joel looked between your legs.  You also dwell on the fact that he wouldn’t really kiss you.  Apparently, he won't sleep in the same bed with you either.  It hurts.  Like, it's physically painful.  

You go across the suite to Joel's room for a shirt to sleep in.  His door is cracked open and there's a green flannel folded on top of his luggage.  It’s not weather-appropriate and you wonder if he brought it for you.   He's tucked in, already asleep on his stomach with his shirt off, a massive arm sticking out over the white comforter and another under his pillow.   You drop your towel to put the shirt on – leisurely, hoping he wakes up to the tempting sight – but he's already sleeping soundly.   You've never seen his face so relaxed, but his brow is still somewhat furrowed.  

You sit down on his bed to fasten a couple of buttons.  He doesn't  wake up.  The irony doesn't escape you that you're watching him sleep when he's supposed to be the creep.  Why doesn't he try to fuck you, you wonder.  His words to Chad echo in your mind: If she told her father, you wouldn't be breathing.  But that's obviously different, you think. That was about someone breaking your heart and physically intimidating you.   

-

The hotel bed is tightly made, with the comforter tucked under the mattress on the side Joel isn't using.  You wonder if you could slip inside without waking him up.  You move the pillows out of the way, then slowly, inch by inch, wedge yourself under the sheets. When you're almost settled, he stirs.  He blinks a few times, squints at you, then sighs, "Trouble . . ."  He moves one of his pillows and hugs it, effectively putting something between you.  It stings.  You try to sleep but you end up sniffling.  

He hears you and wakes up again.  "C'mere, damnit," he half-whispers, half-asleep.  His gruff bedroom whisper makes you wet.  He lifts up his arm but doesn't turn on his side or move the pillow.  You rotate the pillow slightly and rest your head on it with his arm over your chest.  You drift off sooner than you expect.  

-

At some point in your sleep, you roll over facing away from him.  You wake up in the fetal position with Joel’s arm draped over you.  Joel has turned onto his side, too.  Your upper back is just barely against his chest.  You scoot your lower body backwards to spoon with him, and your naked ass meets the tip of his cock.  Arousal shoots through you like a bolt of lightning.  It's the first time you've actually had contact with it.  You didn't even realize he was naked. 

At the first contact, his hips instinctively press his cock up against you, sending all the blood in your body to your core.  You stifle a moan, not stopping to wonder why you don't want to wake him up.  You carefully maneuver your ass to nestle his cock between your thighs.  He thrusts in his sleep, gliding firm and wet against your folds, reaching your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 

You unbutton your shirt then nudge his hand into it. His hand twitches and so does his cock. It pulls back a little and the tip is right at your entrance. Your hips tilt, nestling it there, the top curve of the head resting just inside without truly breaching you.  You could sink onto him right now.  It would be so easy.  But you want him to do it himself.  

You're absolutely throbbing, aching for him.  He pulls back again with a sigh, then his hard tip bypasses your tight, dripping hole and glides to your clit again and you softly moan.  You adjust your chest, wanting the movement of your breast to prompt his hand to cup around it.  But instead of cupping your breast, his hand drifts up your chest.  Then, it wraps loosely around your throat.

His voice is quiet but stern as his cock retreats then slides firmly against your clit with an aggressive thrust.  His hand applies light pressure around your throat.  “What’d I tell ya last night?”  

You remember it well, how you foolishly claimed you weren't gonna fuck him and he replied, oh, I'm not gonna let ya, sugar.  Blood drains from your face and your heart races. You scoff but don't say anything.  Having made his point, his hand goes slack again.  Humiliation drowns out your arousal and you begin to scoot away, but he follows you, effortlessly restraining you with one enormous arm.  

“Calm down," he says into your hair, then half-whispers under your ear, "I’m still gonna take care of ya,” as he palms your breast.  His hard cock nestles against your crack. 

"Lucky me," you say sarcastically and begin to squirm away, but both his arms wrap around you.  In a mocking tone, you parrot, "Take care of me," and add, "you're an actual whore, aren't you?"  A veiny hand slowly works your breast then trails down your torso and digs between your legs.  That’s all it takes for your arousal to return.  

He gathers your ample wetness and uses his middle and ring fingers in a way he must have been perfecting since before you were born.   You gasp and your back arches with tension building rapidly in your core.  His bicep flexes under your neck as his other hand slowly gropes your breasts.  His stiff cock slowly ruts against your ass while he touches you like you've never been touched before.  

He grunts and you gasp on the edge of your climax.  He softly bites your neck, and it sends you.  He sucks your neck as you come.   When your body finishes convulsing into his, his arms loosen and you turn around to face him. 

-

Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You can't resist. You try to kiss him.  

He fucking dodges you again, going for your neck instead.   "Haven't you seen Pretty woman?" Yeah, the one where a sex worker won’t kiss johns on the mouth because it’s too emotional . . .Joel starts giving you a light hickey.  

"You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  

He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  He opens his mouth to say something but stops short when you reach down and grab his cock.  Your mouth falls open at its hardness and the fact that his hand is already around it. 

He winces at your icy fingers. 

You get up on your knees and straddle his legs, pushing the plush luxury comforter behind you.  You fold at the hips and take a moment to admire his cock in your fist and breathe in his musk.  Your thumb lightly traces a vein, and he exhales with a soft grunt.  You look up and are greeted with a twinkle in his eye and a barely perceptible smirk.  You want to wipe that smirk off his face.  

You quickly succeed by holding eye contact while you wrap your lips around his swollen tip and tongue the slit.  It’s already salty with pre-cum.  He takes a deep breath and his lips part just barely.   He puts another pillow behind his head for a better view. His face falls into a trance.  When you begin to suck, he swallows and his jaw clenches.    His eyes darken. You bob your head on his cock, taking as much of his shaft as you can without gagging, stroking the rest with your hand. 

“Fuck,” he pants.  His quads tense under you and his breathing changes. His hips rock gently into your mouth.  Your eyes water as you keep blowing him.  Then, his hand joins yours.  

“Where ya want it?” he asks somewhat urgently.  What a gentleman. 

You don’t answer, you simply take his hand off his cock and place it on his stomach.  You slow your sucking and relax your tongue.  His hips thrust gently into your mouth and his  hand floats to your head, but you send it back to his stomach again  

“God almighty,” he groans.  “Fuck me.”  It’s a turn-on seeing him so desperate.  

You edge him until you’re ready to see him come. Then, you suck with your whole mouth, your cheeks caving in as you firmly tongue the underside.  Within seconds, his hips lift and stay lifted as he erupts in your mouth with a groan.  His warm load hits the roof of your mouth first, and it’s so many ropes you lose count.  You swallow, then return to the head of the bed. 

-

You put your head on his chest and he strokes your shoulder.  

“You’re the evil one,” he says, and you bask in self-satisfaction for a minute.  “Nah, you’re right.  You don’t wanna believe it, but you’re right.” 

“About what?” 

He sits up and your eyes glue to his inner bicep flexing as he reaches for his phone.  His brow furrows as he reads something then dismisses it.  Then he puts on the song Trouble by Elvis.  He meant you’re right that he’s evil.  

You hold out your arm and say, “I’m cringing so hard I have goosebumps.”  

“Just for that, I’m gonna play DJ allll mornin’,” he says.  He sings along as he walks to the shower, “well I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me. . .” 

. . .

Before Joel takes you back to your apartment, you have brunch at a restaurant overlooking the riverwalk.  In the absence of other options, you wear your leather pants with the lacy top.  You both get bloody marys. He wears his Ray-Bans and a white t-shirt, jeans as tight as always, and sits back lazily with one elbow over the back of his chair and his knees spread wide.  

Your phone dings with a text from another family friend, Frank, asking if you’re coming home for the Independence Day barbecue, and it gets you thinking.

“Dad’s back this week,” you say to Joel.  You instantly regret it for killing the mood, but it’s the elephant in the room.  “Y’all still gonna barbecue?” 

He takes a sip of his drink, then puts it back down.  He looks at the river and furrows his brow, then his eyes return to you.  “Why wouldn’t we?  You gonna talk to him?”

“I dunno,” you say, not wanting to show your hand, but you’re leaning against snitching any time soon.  

Joel tenses and his nose twitches. “What are you gonna tell’m?”  He rubs one side of his beard.  A waiter approaches from behind, but Joel doesn’t see him.  “Gonna tell’m you climbed into my bed?  Tried to fuck yourself on my cock?"  There’s a bite to his words.  The waiter stops in his tracks and awkwardly tries to pretend he wasn’t coming to your table.  You look at the waiter and shrug and he gulps before nodding at you in acknowledgement.  Joel looks over his shoulder then shakes his head at you and smirks as the waiter walks away. 

Climbed into his bed. . . tried to fuck yourself on his cock. . . It sounds so bad when he puts it that way.  Maybe it was.  Your cheeks burn.

You sigh.  "I wasn't -” 

Joel raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Just the tip," you protest. 

Joel nods thoughtfully. 

“I dunno what I was thinking,” you admit.  You cross your arms and slouch down in your seat. 

"It's never just the tip,"  Joel says. 

"Why didn't you want it?" You ask pathetically 

He sighs.  "Nothin' to do with want.”  He takes a deep breath and leans back.  He looks at the river, exhales, then adds, "Trust me. . .Fuck."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary and looks back at you. 

"What then?”

The way he looks like he’s racking his brain, you wonder if he’s holding back just to drive you crazy.  It certainly has your attention. In fact, you didn’t know how badly you needed to fuck him until last night . . .just minutes after he said he wasn’t going to let you. 

Finally, he says, "It's bad for you, sugar."

“What is? Your evil cock?”

He smirks then shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks at the river again.  “I dunno what to tell ya. I've seen a lot.  Don't wanna put ya through it.  Shoot, look at your stepmom, she's damn near lost her mind.”

“You're just that good,” you roll your eyes.  You have every reason to believe he is. 

Joel sighs.  “Nothin' to do with good. Shit, I’m not good, I'm just grown."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary.  "Don't you know any hot professors? Take 'em for a spin, you'll see."

You brush it off as his crude way of being modest.  He could probably make bank as an actual gigolo from what you’ve seen. 

"Then what is it?" you wonder.  He gives it some thought.  

"Reckon it’s ‘cause ya can't have me.  No one can. I'm un-have-able."  

“Why don’t you ever settle down?” 

“Shoot, I dunno.  When I was your age, I was already a father.  Maybe I went backwards.”

You nod, appreciative of his effort to give a real answer. 

He continues, “But ya know, monogamy just ain’t right for some people.  Hell, even in a marriage.  You’d be surprised how many are open.” 

“How many what? Marriages?” You suspect his sample is skewed. 

“Yeah. Relationships, marriages.”  He crosses his legs.  “Alright, my turn to ask you somethin’.”

Your heart rate spikes, hoping he won’t revisit the just-the-tip incident.  

“Why'd you stand there and watch that night, hmm?" He cocks an eyebrow.  It’s the first time either of you bring up the moment that started all of this.  Sometimes, when you’re with him, you forget about it entirely. 

You laugh at his audacity, then counter with, "Why'd you stand there and finish?"

"Easy. So I could nut.”  He flashes his eyebrows with a casual smirk, then downs the rest of his drink. 

"You did not just say nut.  God, you're such a boomer."

"Alright, let's get outta here ‘fore we traumatize another waiter."  He throws more than enough cash on the table then stands up and pulls up his jeans.  He puts his hands on his hips and cocks a leg out, looking out over the river while you chug the rest of your drink.

-

When you get in the truck, Joel puts his phone on bluetooth and “Call Me,” the theme to American Gigolo, blasts on.  He’s so lame.  You shake your head at him and he has that subtle Dad joke smirk.  His bicep stretches that t-shirt so nicely. 

Halfway to your apartment, some kind of restricted call pops up and his phone automatically answers it.  You swear it’s your father’s voice on the line that says, “You’re offline.  What’s your 20?”  Joel’s face changes entirely, and something tightens in your chest.  

He scrambles to turn off bluetooth and puts the phone to his ear.  You can still somewhat hear the other end of the line.  

Joel glances at you and says, “Uhhh-”

“We’ve gotta move,” your dad says. 

“It’s broad daylight,” Joel counters. 

“The Bureau tracked down his number two and he’s on the move.” 

Joel seems frustrated.  “Why don’t you get Jesse?”

Your dad says, “He’s comin’ but they’re rollin’ deep.  We need our best shot or it’s gonna be a shitshow.”  Your heart is a mile a minute.

“Dad?” you ask meekly, too nervous to fully commit to asking.

“What was that?” your Dad asks. “Who was that?” You don't say anything else. You feel weak.

Joel glances at you regretfully.  “Damnit, gimme ten and I’ll call you.”

“We gotta move, Miller. I need you back online.”

Joel sighs  “Working on it.  I’ve got cargo, k?” 

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.  "What kind of cargo?”

Joel looks at you again and answers, "precious.”  He hangs up.

Joel hits the steering wheel angrily.  He speeds back toward your apartment, clenching his jaw as his driving intensifies.   You’re shaking.  That was almost certainly your father, and it didn’t sound anything like a military training exercise, or a construction project of Joel’s, for that matter.  

Joel silently fumes.  

“Was that my dad?” you ask with watery eyes.   He takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out as he exhales.  Before he can answer, you foolishly let him off the hook with another question.  “Did you just call me cargo?"

“Sorry sugar, no time right now.”  You ride in silence, bracing yourself as he careens around a corner. 

The tears in your eyes threaten to overflow, then one does.  

-

Joel pulls up to your apartment.  He waits with one hand still on the steering wheel for you to get out, but when he looks at you, he sees that big fat tear run down your cheek and his face softens. 

“Aw, shoot,” he says, and unbuckles. “I’m an asshole.”  He gets out and jogs over to the passenger side.  He opens the door for you and you slide out of the chair lazily, numbly, not quite wanting to meet his eyes.  

“Hey,” he says, and tilts your chin up.  Suddenly, it seems like he’s in no hurry at all.  He takes off his Ray-Bans and looks at you like he’s trying to heal you with his eyes.  You finally make eye contact and take a shaky breath, trying not to full-on sob.  His thumb brushes away your tears, then the same hand cradles the back of your head.   You stand there reading each other’s eyes.  Slowly, your head begins to pull like a magnet toward his lips.  You almost feel like his hand is ever so subtly pulling you that way.  You steel yourself for rejection anyway.  But then, Joel’s head drifts toward yours.   

His beard lightly prickles your skin as your lips lock and his free arm wraps around you.  You’re caught off guard, but in less than a second, you don’t care about anything else in the world.  Joel’s tongue parts your lips and you accept it hungrily.  His lips are soft but strong as they suck you into him.  Your mouths are needy for each other.  His hand behind your head pulls you further into him.  You kiss like you’re sharing a last breath of air.  Then, he seals the moment on your upper lip and pulls away.  The whole kiss can’t be more than ten seconds, tops. 

“Gotta go, Trouble.” he whispers, then swallows solemnly, looking down.   “I’m sorry.”  

He jumps in his truck and peels off.  

-

next: part 5

-

thank you all so much for reading and engaging. y'all are the best ILY!!!

[peachie-bumblebee]

MIGUEL O’HARA NSFW ALPHABET

MINORS DNI

HELLOOOO

CW: GENERAL ADULT CONTENT. MENTIONS OF BDSM AND PAIN, UNDERWEAR THIEF

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

It really depends on whether or not you’re in a relationship. If he’s in love with you, then he’s gonna scoop you up and clean you off- maybe even take a bath with you if he’s letting himself be intimate like he used to be. He’ll praise you softly as you go to sleep, sure to forget his words by morning. If he’s not in love with you, then it’s less charming. Miguel WILL leave.

B = Body part (favorite of partners, favorite of theirs):

The curve of their neck and throat. He can’t help himself. Hipbones. He isn’t that egotistical when it comes to his own looks, but he knows his back looks good. Don’t press him on his ass though. He knows he has a great ass, but you’ll never hear him say that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Like i’ve said- he gets embarrassingly leaky if he’s being dominated. He’ll even cum untouched if you really try.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

…Panty thief if he’s in love. He’ll tuck your underwear away after he tugs them down and touches himself with them pressed against his face. Literally if anyone ever brought it up he’d disintegrate on the spot and possibly start chasing them on all fours. (He’s a little touchy, if you haven’t noticed.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He had a kid. And if you’re gonna say “oh, that was another universe-” you can, but you cannot convince me that there is a universe where Miguel doesn’t fuck. He fucks. He knows just where to put his hands during doggy.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

He likes to have a grip on those hipbones, if he can. He’s gonna physically overpower 99% of people, so it’s gonna involve folding his partner in half and manhandling them most every time. He also loves to be on his knees with his hands behind his back, but that might be a little harder.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

He’s not a joker. Maybe, MAYBE, if he was married, he might make a small joke every once in a while. But I cannot picture him having silly sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

He’s naked under that suit, and I can’t imagine that would feel great on his body if there was too much hair. I’m not fully sure how any spider-person gets their hair on under the mask, but I DO know that he has the prettiest happy trail known to man. It’s not too much- still almost downy soft.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

Like stated before, it can go both ways. I can’t see him doing a lot of soft kisses unless there was MAJOR long term feelings. Most romantic he gets most of the time is telling his partner how good they are or begging for then.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Eyes roll back into his head and he has his hand clamped over his mouth, sometimes biting on his rolled up shirt.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Bondage, switching, candle wax, temperature play, blindfolding, manhandling, biting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

If his partner was a spider person I can see them fucking in some corner on a rooftop, his hips pistoling up into them as they grab forward on the wall.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Lace, being teased, getting too annoyed at work- LMFAO. teasing and being teased riles him up big time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

He’s not gonna use a flogger or a paddle on someone. I can’t see it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He has a BIG oral fixation (i’m biased) and loves anything going into his mouth. He also is particularly sensitive to having his balls sucked on.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

It’s rough nearly always. Your organs are thoroughly rearranged.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Miguel is a BIG office quickie guy IF nothing is going on- but so so much of the time, something is always going on. Some of the time all he can squeeze in is a good over-the-desk 15 minutes before he’s back to managing all of the multiverse. The last thing he needs is Lyla popping up where she doesn’t belong.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Things that are risky to normal people aren’t as risky to him. He can hear if people are coming from a long while away. He’s faced constant danger. Fucking you in an unused room on an unused floor of the spider society is not a risk to him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

Do I even need to say it? He can go for hours. He’s enhanced. However, he does last longer if he’s the one in charge; either way, he can go for a long while. His partner is gonna be sore and incoherent much faster than he’d be, regardless whether or not they’re super or not.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

Someone got him a flashlight once and told him it’d help him with the stick up his ass. He’s used it a couple times and pretends like he hasn’t. He wouldn’t own a dildo but isn’t opposed to getting pegged. If his partner wanted a sex toy used on them, he’d take a lot of joy in torturing them with it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

He’s an AWFUL tease. It’s constant. He also cannot bear being teased and will either beg or fuck his partner over the nearest table within a few comments.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

PRETTY MOANS!! It’s a damn shame he rarely ever lets you hear them. He’ll also curse, praise, and demean under his breath. He tries so hardly to stop from moaning when he cums; muffling himself with whatever he can. Usually a few clear ones slip through.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Cries if you edge him. He gets pathetic.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

YALL ALREADY KNOW!! DORITO BACK!!! HUGE CHEEKS!!! He’s downright tasty i’m sorry y’all. I’d pray over him and spread him out like he’s christmas dinner.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

HE’S HORNY! He just can’t deal with it a lot of the time, which often makes him even more pent up. Lord have mercy on his partner’s body.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Depends if he has time or not. If not, he’ll keep on pushing on. On the rare occasion where he’s free of responsibilities, he’s snoring like drake within 20 minutes or less <33

hope you guys enjoyed!! inbox is always open, requests always wanted :)))

[straylightdream]

let me in your ocean - 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: seo changbin x f.reader

↳ late nights spent at the pool drinking wine, and crossing lines friends normally don’t cross.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut warning listed below the cut, drinking, skinny dipping

𝐚𝐧: this is a part of a series of short one shots with all the skz boys that take place in the middle of the night the link can be found in my masterlist for skz. If you would like to join any of my Stray Kids taglist please fill out this form.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: friends to lovers, drinking, skinny dipping, semi public sex, sex outside, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control), Changbin has a size kink.

Late nights spent with Changbin were nothing new to you. Your time with him was usually spent away from friends. Sitting with your legs in the warm swimming pool you gazed up at the bright moon. Nudging your shoulder against his you can’t help but smile. Glancing over at him you watch him bring the bottle of wine to his lips. He takes a swig of the red colored wine before passing you the bottle.

A shitty day at work led to Changbin calling you and asking you to come over. Without thinking twice you drove over to his house.

Taking a drink of the strong wine your eyes focus on the thigh that is pressed against you.

“I hate my job,” he sighs. He’s been going through a rough patch at work and has mentioned wanting to quit often to you. When you receive a late night phone call from him after midnight you know he had a rough day. He greeted you at the front door holding a bottle of wine asking you to stay the night and drink with him.

“Bin, why don’t you quit?” You know this isn’t a simple thing he can do. He makes really good money working at his job and is fully able to afford this house because of his job.

“I wish I could,” he pushes his thigh against yours. He reaches over to take the wine bottle from your hand. He takes a big drink before setting it down on the concrete next to him.

“The water feels warmer than I expected,” you say, breaking the silence between you.

“You know we’ve never gone night swimming before.” He’s not wrong, you've never gone night swimming with him. “Why don’t we go now?” He stands up.

You look up at him knitting your eyebrows together. He has to be crazy. It's one in the morning and you don’t have anything to wear. “Bin I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“That’s fine. We can either go in our underwear or naked.” His mood seems slightly lifted as he pulls his shirt off revealing his beautiful skin. You’re left sitting there staring at him unsure of what you should do. He kicks off his gym shorts and left standing in front of you in all his glory in nothing but a tight pair of black boxer briefs. He holds his hand out for you and without another thought you stand up. You pull off your sweater and shorts and are left standing in front of him half naked in nothing but a pink bar and polka dot undies. This moment feels more intimate then you’re used to with him. Reaching toward you, his hand rests on your cheek before he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear. His touch is warm and welcoming. You could easily get lost in this moment with him. Leaning forward he presses his lips to cheek for a gentle kiss. You’ve shared kisses on the cheek throughout your whole friendship, but this feels different in your heart.

He steps back smirking at you. “I needed you tonight,” his words seem to knock your world sideways.

He jumps into the pool leaving you standing there watching him. His head pops up and he smiles at you. Butterflies take over your stomach as you watch him swim.

“Are you going to join me?”

Taking a deep breath you dive in head first into what the night could hold. The water is warm but not as warm as you were expecting. Pushing your feet at the bottom of the pool your head breaks through to the night sky. Changbin is right there swimming in front of you. The large pool feels so incredibly small as you take in his closeness. His hand reaches our resting on your side as he pulls you closer to the shallow end. There is no distance between you as his arms wrap around your waist holding you close to him. Your chest is pressed to his chest and your noses are brushing.

“You are the only person who makes me happy. I had the worst day at work and I only wanted to see you.”

Closing your eyes you can’t help but smile, “Changbin you make me really happy too.”

“I want to kiss you so badly,” he sighs.

“You should kiss me then.”

His lips crash into yours without another word. Kissing Changbin feels like a breath of fresh air. Your fingers tangle in his hair as your lips continue to move together. He’s kissing like he needs to breathe and in that moment you think does. Pulling away from him you can’t help but smile.

“I really needed that,” he says.

“I think I needed that too.”

You step back and swim out towards the deep in. You can feel his eyes burning into you as you swim back towards him. Stopping in front of him he grabs your waist pulling you towards him again. His hands move towards your butt signaling for you to wrap your legs around his waist. Normally you would complain about him picking you up, but with the water making you feel weightless you can’t complain.

“I have wanted to kiss you for so long.” You can’t help but smile at his statement. His hand roams your back as lips attach to your neck. “I want so much more with you,” he says with his lips ghosting your skin.

“You can have anything you want,” you make the bold choice to grind your hips against his. Reaching behind you to unclasp your bra tossing it out of the pool leaving you topless.

Everything around you doesn’t feel like it exists as Changbin kisses every part of your skin he can reach. His hand grope your breast earning a moan for you. He holds you like he desperately needs you. Only putting you down so he can remove his boxers leaving him naked. Standing in the shallow end you kiss him like you’ve wanted to do for a long time. Reach under the water stroking his already hard cock. The moans that pass his lips are sinful. You could get used to touching him like this. He pulls away only to help you take off your undies leaving you just as naked as him under the night sky.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, pulling you close again. You wrap your legs around his waist grinding your bare core against his hardened erection. You haven’t felt this wanted in such a long time.

It’s not long before Changbin pulls you both out of the pool. His lips can’t seem to stay away from your skin for very long. He has you sitting on the patio table outside standing between your legs. He slowly pushes into you, earning a moan. Both your eyes are locked two where you’re both connected. Changbin is definitely thicker and bigger than anyone you've ever been with. Your breathing is heavy as you try to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god you’re big,” your statement earns a smirk from him.

“Is my cock too big for your tiny pussy?” If you weren’t already wet you would be now. Hearing Changbin talk dirty to you could easily make you weak in the knees.

“Binnie,” you can’t think of anything else to say to him.

“Yeah pretty?”

“You feel so big and so good,” you sigh.

He starts moving with steady but deep thrust. One of his hands grip the table while the other holds your side. Your fingers are tangled in his hair holding him close to you. With each thrust he pushes close and closer to the edge. It’s not long before you find yourself falling apart moaning his name. Your high washes over you as Changbin continues to thrust into you. His last few thrust are sloppy before he pulls out and pumps his length finishing on your thigh.

Leaning forward he rests his forehead against yours and a soft laugh passes his lips. “I have wanted to do that for a while.”

You can’t help but smile because it seems like your crush on Changbin wasn’t one sided. Funny how a terrible day can turn around when you’re with the right person.