#i spend this much time just writing the ideas how the fuck you think i'm gonna have the attention span and stamina to ACTUALLY

[inesbaby21]

can you do headcannons of all the girl you write for with a gymnast!reader? i never see people do these.

ouu i like this idea ofc!

Caitlin Clark x Gymnast!Reader

You two definitely met in high school

Spending all of your free time watching movies, reading, baking!

She definitely understands the pressure you're under, and as much as you're there for cait she's there for you

ughh, poor baby panics whenever you slip off of the balancing beam just a little and is sitting on the edge of her seat

Soooo sooo possessive, and If she hears anyone talking about you during your routine she's not any better than calling them out and telling them to "Do everything she just did, and has been doing for the last 14 years of her life in 3 minutes."

Absolutely loves watching you work on your tumbling, and one hand front flips!

She definitely is the type of gf/wife to show up to the olympics with a post that has your face on it

I'm seeing you two getting separated during college, but working through that as you eventually do transfer to Iowa to be closer to her.

Best, Best, BEST support system! Always makes sure you're well rested, you have something on your stomach and carries all of your gym bags

Definitely wants you to be at all over her games (College and in the WNBA) because you're her "good luck charm"

Touchies Gf ever, but just loves to hold you. Also loves when you do her hair before a game

Definitely the biggest support, and is arguing with judges when they take away points from a flawless performance because of something out of your control

Has the worst problem with women's gymnast outfits .. why do you have to wear the leo's, and do the tight buns if you don't want to??

Always there for her baby no matter what, and if your injured best believe she's the first one out of the stands and by your side.

Definitely blows kisses to you while she plays, and you're sitting court side

I'm skipping ahead to the future a little, but CC as a mom 🥹 omg

Always helps your little girl get ready, and you three definitely have a family/couple blog

OH AND BEST BELIEVE BABY CLARK KNEW HOW TO DRIBBLE A BASKETBALL BEFORE SHE COULD TALK

Definitely is a supportive parent, and will skip any and ALL practice/games if baby clark has a dance recital or a k-1 basketball game!

I also see Gymnast!Reader going into labor during an olympic game (shes not competing bc she literally about to pop) and CC stopping dead in her tracks to help rush you to the hospital!

Gymnast!Reader and CC definitely have the cutest babies ever, but I think they're going to take after CC height wise as gymnast reader realistically never made it past 4'11 .. (don't judge for like the crazy height difference most gymnast are like really fucking short) 😞

Kinda feeling bad for Gymnast!Reader because TWICE in 4 years your pushing out monster sized babies and STILL having to get back up and compete after maternity leave ??

CC and Gymnast!Readee definitely have a winter baby idc idc! First baby girl was born sometime in december right before new years like the 29th (haha dec 29th is my birthday!)

CC IS A CERTIFIED GIRL MOM, ARGUE WITH YOUR MAMA.

Okay guyssss i really love writing about CC, and send in more requests for her! this was so cute and so fun to write omg

[godsfavoritescientist]

you’ll always be my favorite ghost - Big God, by Florence + The Machine

[Image description: Lineless digital painting of Ford kneeling in front of the stone statue of Bill, hugging it and crying. He is in the woods, surrounded by birch trees, with beams yellow light streaming down from the treetops. The grass around Ford is shaded to be reminiscent of the shape of the portal.]

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

[hoseoksluna]

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch. 

That’s a good girl. Messy for me. 

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is. 

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully. 

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses. 

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth. 

He is not, in fact, on his way home. 

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy. 

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny. 

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.” 

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?” 

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display. 

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.” 

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself. 

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen. 

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking. 

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do? 

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice. 

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on. 

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.” 

Naked. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.” 

And with that, he hangs up. 

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you. 

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend. 

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form. 

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer. 

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience? 

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad. 

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you. 

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done? 

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you. 

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer. 

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you. 

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had. 

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to. 

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all. 

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream— 

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment? 

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call? 

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person. 

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult. 

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there. 

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.” 

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred. 

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body. 

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man. 

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water. 

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober. 

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross. 

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially. 

Was it out of the question or would he consider it? 

Your leg jitters harder. 

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.” 

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion. 

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek. 

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?” 

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one? 

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks. 

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness. 

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you. 

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.” 

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?” 

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did. 

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently. 

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side. 

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.” 

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?” 

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself. 

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.” 

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you. 

“Can I feel how wet you are?” 

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.” 

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted. 

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue. 

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?” 

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.” 

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?” 

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?” 

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine. 

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?” 

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.” 

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?” 

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath. 

“Spank my pussy again, please.” 

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while. 

“Apologize first.” 

“You didn’t tell me how.” 

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.” 

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours. 

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples. 

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged. 

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?” 

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times. 

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think. 

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants. 

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing. 

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half. 

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath. 

Such a stark, sudden change. 

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that. 

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.” 

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving. 

“Keep your legs where they belong.” 

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage. 

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin. 

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under. 

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?” 

A question for a question. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration. 

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home. 

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy. 

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?” 

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start. 

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down. 

You fight against it. 

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness. 

And you decide to repeat history. 

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants. 

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat. 

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?” 

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether. 

And then, you collect your essence again. 

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest. 

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.” 

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you. 

He parts his lips for you. 

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally. 

You’re in charge. And it feels divine. 

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue. 

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.” 

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you. 

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince. 

And then—then he manhandles you. 

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does. 

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden. 

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter. 

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?” 

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening. 

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion. 

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.” 

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit. 

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free. 

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off. 

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.” 

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused. 

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.” 

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation. 

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way. 

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum. 

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.” 

Yoongi has had enough. 

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’. 

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.” 

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?” 

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix. 

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone. 

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?” 

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him. 

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.” 

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you. 

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.” 

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.” 

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something. 

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.” 

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you. 

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.” 

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come. 

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them. 

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.” 

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes. 

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.” 

With that, he hangs up. 

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again. 

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself. 

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you. 

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing. 

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?” 

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.” 

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief. 

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you. 

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you. 

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind. 

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles. 

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.” 

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours. 

But you don’t let him take charge. 

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.” 

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you. 

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed. 

You hold onto his neck with your dear life. 

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.” 

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours. 

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.” 

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him. 

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock. 

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit. 

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life. 

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him. 

“You sure you’re okay with this?” 

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too. 

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring. 

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.” 

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation. 

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?” 

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness. 

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him. 

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.” 

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.” 

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part two 

[baby-yongbok]

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

[seventeenpins]

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

[cordeliawhohung]

You created a monster in me with underboss!Simon and now you must take responsibility.

Please feed my new addiction with relationship headcanons 😩😩😩. I love him and Shy!reader.

i've created so many monsters y'all gotta stop biting at my ankles or at least start paying rent or smth <3 also i'm still trying to work out a lot of the dynamics of the relationship between them so this is still a little bare boned but i hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist <3

warnings: mostly fluff :3 simon is a bit of a prick lol, fem!reader,

just in case anyone missed it, this is how underboss!Simon and shy!Reader meet <3

it takes a brutally long time for the two of you to start dating. a brutally long time.

and it isn't for lack of trying on Simon's end. he manages to get your number somehow (i hear Soap is very tech savvy...) and asks you out the week after the dinner at John's house, only for you to decline.

which is fine. he can take rejection. but this is... different. you're too kind when you say no. you're not saying it because you think you're too good for him, you're saying it because of something else, and Simon can tell the difference but can't exactly tell what it is.

it drives him nuts for a long time. you were supposed to be just another number in his phone for a booty call. he's used to getting pretty much anything he wants, after all, but even then it shouldn't have bugged him as much as it did. maybe it was because he liked the way you looked at him. not with disgust. not with some lustful intention. you were... soft. kind, even.

as for you? you think it's crazy how this 6'4", ripped, and kind guy showed interest in you. you, someone too anxious for her own good, someone who said no because it was less scary than committing to something. and you hate yourself for rejecting him.

so in an effort to stay close to him, you text him pretty often. you send him pictures of things you see or run into during your day. something funny at work, a cool rock you found in someone's garden, the spider that decided to make its home in your shower. and sweetheart, you have no idea what you're doing to the poor man ):

this goes on for a long while. just simon being a stupid man, not wanting to push your boundaries after you already rejected him, and you being too anxious to fix things and ask him yourself.

eventually, by some miracle (that i might write more about later because like i said BARE BONES) the two of you get together. and it's... interesting. simon isn't really used to dating. like properly. he's used to buttering a girl up, going back to her place for a quick fuck, and then only seeing her whenever either of them are too bored and horny to function. but with you it's nothing like that at all. there's no sex on the first date, not even a damn kiss, and he finds himself craving you more than ever because of it. wanting to be around you all the time, wanting to hear about your day.

man is fucking obsessed.

he treats you like a princess. he only ever really spent his money on stupid shit but now he can spend it on you! you never ask for anything, but god forbid if you express that anything, be it clothes or otherwise, looks cute because he will buy it for you, no matter how awkward you are at receiving gifts.

also! because he's so big and somewhat brutish, no one fucks with you when you're in public together. annoying kiosk clerks trying to aggressively sell you something? one look from him and they're gone. someone messed up your order but you're too anxious to ask them to fix it? he's advocating for you.

because of him, you find yourself growing less afraid and anxious of things. he teaches you how to be brave, and you teach him how to be soft. there's nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for you <3

oh also btw he's in the mafia. he might have forgotten to mention that... hope that doesn't freak you out or anything. don't worry about the blood on his shirt or the bruises on his face or the cuts on his arms or... oh god you look like you're going to cry. it's nothing, sweetheart! promise! stop trying to take him to the hospital!

also, some sorta unrelated comments: i think shy!reader is def a hostess at a restaurant. i feel like simon would hang out at the restaurant too just to be around you. he'd also slip you a tip, even though you tell him you make hourly and don't depend on tips.

"consider it my way of saying thanks for sitting us at the table with the best view."

the view is you, btw.

AHHH i'm sorry this was such a mess? i have so many jumbled thoughts but i'm glad i was able to get some of them out and i hope they were somewhat enjoyable al;kdjf i'll be working on a short drabble/oneshot for him over the weekend, so i'm hoping that'll make up for this <3

[thevoidstaredback]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

[nightdiary]

first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

[constantmourning]

Stress Relief

[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]

Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!

Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)

A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.

It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.

You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.

Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.

"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.

Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.

So, you started sleeping with Price.

Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.

This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.

"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."

"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."

You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.

When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"

"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.

They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"

Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.

The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.

"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...

"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.

"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.

You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.

Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.

They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.

They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.

You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.

Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.

The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.

You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.

Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...

At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.

[ltbunny]

Ex husband price brain worms again, c.w/ nsfw, unedited, bad writing, I've never published nsfw before

It's your ex-husband, Price's birthday, and the last thing you expect is for him to show up, with a sweet, suave smile on his face

It's not even his custody day but he says "come on, love. I wanted us to spend it together, like a family. You're really not going to let me take my favourite two girls out for my own birthday?"

All you can do is roll your eyes and let him as he walks in, leaning down and leaving a small peck on your forehead as your daughter runs down the stairs to hug her dad, squealing.

He's adamant about cooking lunch for you two, but you stop him

"Oh, come off it, John, I'll cook since it's your birthday, and you keep saying you'll take us out"

He gets dragged off to play teaparty with the little princess and comes back after a while, his arms slot around your waist, swaying side to side softly as you half heartedly try to stop him, he just grins and nestles his head into the crook of your neck,

"Let the 'birthday boy' hug his wife, love."

"Ex-wife, john."

"Mhm, whatever makes you happy. Happy wife, happy life."

Lunch is served, and the three of you spend the rest of the day going shopping, prices idea. Dollhouse, cars, legos, Barbie, slime, whatever the kid wants, and some small gold necklace for you, even though you won't accept it,

"They're too much, John, stop it-"

"But, love, this is your favourite design and the colour. It'll look beautiful on you."

He buys it and even gets the jeweller to engrave a small j.p on the back of the charm while you're not looking.

He takes you two to a small fancy restaurant at the end of the day, your daughter playing with her new toys on the table, while John's hand holds yours on the table.

"Might retire soon, getting up there in age, love," his eyes watch the way your light up slightly, looking at him before turning away slightly, seeing his gaze, "ill be able to be around more often, wasn't that one of your complaints, I was too busy, so I gave you a little one."

You smack his arm lightly, "Oh, shush, John. She'll be happy. She is always saying how she misses her dad. She keeps asking for a little brother, says everyone in class has one except her," You chuckle softly

At the end of dinner, he drives you two back home, your daughter tuckered out, he picks her up and takes her to her room, tucking her in, kissing her forehead softly, "sorry, I'm not here much, princess, I promise to be around more, okay?"

He comes downstairs and kisses your cheek as you swat him off lightly,

"Stop it, John, you know that's not appropriate,"

"Mhm, whatever you say love, come help me take the things out the car will you?"

The night ends with price bending you over in the backseat, fucking you desperately,

"Fuck, love, I missed this grip, you might have a hard time saying it but your pussy's been missing me, huh? The guys you bring round ain't big enough for ya anymore? Don't worry, daddy's here."

Your fingers grip the car seat, squealing every time he thrusts in

"There's only one thing I wanted for my birthday, you know, love? It's been real lonely up by myself sometimes, and been thinking," he hums lowly, grinding deep inside you while you struggle to even keep up with his pace let alone words, he moves over you, one hand groping your breast, teasing the nipple, the other coming up to your clit, rubbing it along with the harsh pace, "been thinking bout this pussy, and getting the present of life, ain't that cute?"

You gasp, your pussy squeezing around his cock tighter as he starts rubbing your clit faster, "John, please- is, is too much," you moan

"You're doing so well for me, mama, you want another little one too, right? You always said one feels bad, we need to give our little baby a sibling,"

"John- holy shit," your legs shake as he presses you down against the seats, every thrust with one purpose, "please, please, I'm so close!"

He keeps going until he feels your legs trembling, three loads in, his fingers massaging your clit, his lips kissing your neck, leaving hickeys for everyone to see.

You wake up in your bed, listening to John's snoring as you yawn, shifting to get up slightly, his arms tighten around you and his eyes open slightly.

"Mmhm, best birthday ever."

He mumbles before he starts snoring again

[the-faceless-bride]

can i have yandere clawd and deuce poly 😪 iltsm( i love yr writing ur one of my fav writers btw 💞)

Omg. I love both of them so much. 🥩🐍 Bluckle the FUCK up, it's a long one. I love them so much. I gave each their own section as to how this started, then the poly together. If you want more of them... Please... Please ask me. P.s. sorry about all the monster puns, I couldn't help myself

🌕New Ghoul in School🐍

Warnings: OOC Clawd, OOC Duce, OOC Cleo?, OOC Draculaura? Clawd being a kicked puppy, yandere content, controlling behavior, turning to stone, non-con hugging, cuddling and Kisses, forced closeness, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR!, accusations of cheating, emotional cheating?

Characters : Clawd × Reader × Duce

Proof read : nope

Requested?: yes

You had just transferred from your normie school, Turns out people are so accepting of finding out you're a monster. So you transferred to Monster High, and being a new ghoul didn't seem so hard until you tripped an orange werecats tail and she picked a fight with you...

"and just Who, do you think you are? I don't know how you are your Normie friends play, but you don't want to mess with me Ghoul. I'll make you sorry-"

"why don't you go and pick on someone your own size Torilie?"

"yeah, Dude. Not cool."

🐾🐍 • and that's how it started. Just two Mansters defending the New Ghoul. They knew Torilie was one to pick fights and figured they would help you stay out of trouble for the time being. And the three of you became three peas in a pod. And while you all thought it was great, their Ghoulfriends... Had other ideas.

🐍🕶️ • Cleo started having problems as soon as you had arrived. Your first day she already knew who you were, what you were, where you came from, and if you were cool enough to be popular and associate with the Ghouls she does. And she deemed you not worthy. And that was putting a strain on your friendship.

🐍🕶️ • Duce was grown increasingly tired and frustrated. He loved Cleo, he did. But she could be... Emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. When they go out he has to change his personality to not embarrass her, she dictates who can can hang out with and when, and he has to constantly hear from her that he should be doing as she asks and says and do it happily as she goes against what her family wants to be with him. He doesn't want to do that anymore. He wants to be able to Shoot Hoops with Clawd, sit with Jackson at lunch, and talk about the Hissstory test. Listen to whatever playlist Holt made or play dodgeball with Slow Mo. Without Cleo saying when he can and can't.

But he just can't leave her. He's become so dependent on her. Hell, the last time She went to Scarise without him, he nearly went crazy as he didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave Cleo. Even if he wanted to... Unless. Maybe he didn't need to be dependent on her. Maybe. He could be dependent on you.

🐍🕶️ • Duce began to test the waters, which was the start of his obsession. For example at lunch when Cleo tells him to get the green eyed Salad and a water, he'll then turn around and ask you... Sometimes when you feel the burn of Cleo's raging stare you won't respond or say the same as Cleo, but on the days you don't pay attention or to stressed to care you recommend the meat plant sandwich and the yummy razzberry soda pop you've been drinking the past few days. And he'll pick your recommendation. And it Infuriates Cleo. He likes that with you, he has a choice, where Cleo demands and tells. You offer and recommend.

🐍🕶️ • this intimately ends in an explosive argument that Spectra has a field day covering. And Duce does something, not him. Her. Or anyone else in the school say coming. "I'm breaking up with you Cleo." a long still silence fills the halls as everyone takes a moment to process what he just said. Before Cleo screams and storms away, and Duce... Doesn't feel as heartbroken as he thought he should.

🐍🕶️ • Duce starts spending most if not all his free time with you and Clawd, well. Mostly you as Clawd gets called from Draculaura a lot. And while he's sad he can't spend more time with Clawd he's happy to spend time with you. You help groom his snakes, you help him pick which sunglasses he should wear each day, (even though they are all just different shades of red) as well as his many band sweaters. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially with Spectra's gossip site.

"Duce trades princess for new Ghoul?! Stay tuned for the possible new hot relationship??"

🐾🌕 • when Clawd first met you he thought you were great! He got a new friend to hang out with! Sure Manny, Heath, Gill, and Duce we're cool but Clawd has a thing for fashion and self-care, that's not something he really talks about with them BUT that's OK! cuz now he can talk about it with you! He ended up spending a bit of free time with you, anytime Draculaura was out and shopping or just Fanging out with her Ghoulfriends or catching up with her Cousin, he would spend his afternoon with you. Getting his hair straightened and trimmed, getting manicures so his nails don't get too sharp and ridged. And eventually, when he's comfortable with you, he'll start playing games. Like fetch or chase. The only issue is that when Duce started to come around more and Cleo trying to keep him on a leash, slowly Draculaura started calling him and needed him more and more. He didn't think much of it, until Duce's big breakup with Cleo. A week later Draculaura wouldn't leave him alone for a second, and anytime you started approaching she took his hand and pulled him in another direction.

🐾🌕 • it started becoming draining, he loves spending time with his Ghoulfriend. He truly did. But not when every two seconds she was hinting and implying all the time he spent with you was him creeping around behind her back. Nothing he did or said made her change her mind, now everything he did seemed to set her off. She was so paranoid, that he went out of his way to make her a gift to show that he loved her, but he accidentally made it worse, he had to try and hold back tears and puppy cries as she said, "Bad Clawd!" over and over while tugging his ear. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, he just made a new friend. You nor him did anything. So why was she being like this?

Any attempts to talk about it were shut down, as she tried keeping him away from you. And he just couldn't take it anymore, he liked being clingy but he was clingy because he genuinely wanted to be around his partner not just sticking to them like glue-watching like a hawk to 'catch them in the act'. He would go as far as to say this was worse than the time he was dumped for Valentine the love manipulator.

🐾🌕 • Clawd began to confide in you, Draculaura wouldn't listen to him so he was happy you did. He spent hours just sitting under a tree at the back of the school with you, drawing doodles in the dirt, ears tucked back to his head as he vented about his feelings and how the recent arguments had affected him, you tried to help every time. But eventually, word got to Draculaura about your little meetings, and stormed over one day with her ghoulfriends in toe.

Both you and Clawd had to endure the burning glare of the Ghouls, Draculaura ranting and raving and ultimately giving him an ultimatum. You or her. And Clawd's ears pinned flat to his head, he didn't want to lose his Ghoulfriend but he didn't want to lose you either. But before he could answer Draculaura said something that gave him the push to his ultimate answer. "ugh, I should've known! A guy hangs out with other guys like him! And Duce is a lying, dirty, cheater and so are you! And this new Ghoul sure has some nerve to go around sneaking with other Mansters knowing they are dating someone! If that's the kind of Manster you are Clawd then maybe... Eh *hick* MaYbe we shouldn't Be togEther!" a moment passes where Clawd looks down into Draculaura's wet violet eyes, sighs, then answers. "maybe we shouldn't." the ghoul's Gasp and Draculaura sobs, "FINE! WE ARE OVER!"

🐾🌕 • Clawd thought relieved he wouldn't be interrogated every day and being told he's bad, he's still heartbroken that the Ghoul he thought he'd spend his life with was gone. He clung to you and Duce for security and long talks to make him feel better and eventually, he did. Clawd was back to his peppy, wide-eyed, excitable self again. In fact, he's the happiest he's been. His mood wasn't Even shaken when he found out Draculaura had begun dating his sister, he just didn't care. He was happy.

🐾🌕 • It wasn't until a late-night Chat; that you and Clawd had stayed over at Duce's house after seeing a new skinwalker Scareitage Boovie that Clawd discovered that not only He had feelings for you but so did Duce... And well, he had always liked Duce maybe even more than just a bro, but this changed everything. And they agreed. A scarily wonderful idea...

"Vampy puts doggy out for good? Or does Doggy like the Dog house with his chew toy?"

🐍🐾 • now Duce and Clawd are softer yandere's than the normal. But that doesn't mean they won't use force if they need to. Duce is a Dependant, laid-back, stalker-type yandere. He's ok with letting you have wiggle room as long as he knows where you are at all times and can get to you in a short period. Whereas Clawd is a Clingy, overprotective, worshiper-type Yandere. Clawd wants to be near you all the time if you let him, but he's ok with letting you go for a while as long as he has Duce he always knows where you are because Duce knows, if at any point Duce doesn't know for some reason or he's not around Duce to find out, he'll use his nose to track you down.

🐍🐾 • You probably wouldn't know they are yandere's unless you start trying to spend more time with others that aren't them. The more you try and hang out with Operetta and Cupid they start to get a little more aggressive and demanding of your time and attention. Which can trigger some alarm bells that something isn't right. The best thing would be to try and talk and compromise they are willing to do that as long as you promise to let them keep tabs "for safety reasons," and you spend time with them immediately after.

🐍🐾 • after a month or two they start to be more openly affectionate and act like a Throuple, it went over your head at first with Duce's laid-back attitude and Clawd's over-excitable personality being normal, but the more Clawd wanted to play fetch and hug you, and Duce constantly being around you despite having the freedom to hang out with his other dudes you start to get the idea they might be romantically interested.

🐍🐾 • You opened to the idea, and the relationship seemed to be working well... Until they started to become, overwhelming. Clawd always over your shoulder, Duce always seeming to know where you are... Even when you didn't tell him where you were. And things took a turn when you tried to tell them you needed space. "You're... Breaking up... With us?" you sputtered, you definitely didn't answer and deny fast enough as you felt your body start to stiffen and cold. Duce had turned you to stone. Clawd whimpered while holding your cold stiff stone body, "im sorry sweetheart. But we can't have you running from us. Just be good ok? Please?" after that you'd been chained to them by that point. Nobody would've believed you if you told them the school's Cool guy and oversized puppy were forcing you into a relationship...

🐍🐾 • they aren't too harsh on punishments. For the most part. Once you tried to run away once, you waited for a moment to be alone before printing off trying to get somewhere, anywhere but there. But you forgot who you were dealing with and Clawd chased you down. Clawd's punishments involve many forced hugs, kisses, and closeness. If he shows how much he loves you at some point you'll see it's true and love him too! Right?

Duce will turn you to stone anytime he gets an idea you're about to run off. He makes Clawd drag you to his house. Which takes a lot of manipulation and convincing. Clawd doesn't want to lock you away to be alone. He wants you to be around them! But Duce scares him into going along with it. Even sometimes provokes him to anger to be more willing to lock you in a dirty old basement.

🐍🐾 • overall. As long as you stay and promise to love them, and don't mind clinginess it's a cute relationship... But if you reject them, you'll spend a lot of time in an old basement in Duce's home, alive but unable to move. To feel. Or scream.

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 3

hey... :) I know I've kept you waiting and I'm ready to hand her over to you. Here is the long awaited part 3!

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The Favor Masterlist

WC- 10k

Warnings-dom/sub dynamic, oral sex, sprinkle of degradation, soft Dom h, face fucking, hair pulling, choking, h's filthy mouth, cumplay, etc.

---------

Y/N still had shaky knees by the time she got home that night. They hadn’t gone much further than that, his lips giving her a reward of kisses on her lips and neck as he had her lounge in his lap. To get used to his touch, he had claimed. It didn’t matter to her considering she felt like she was a bit touch starved and he was happy to supply his fix. 

Danny wasn’t a bad boyfriend. She didn’t want to paint him in a bad light- but he didn’t do all the things she had originally expected. He didn’t cuddle her as often as she’d liked and claimed he ‘slept hot’ so he didn’t hold her in his sleep when she slept over. A year into their relationship and she was thinking maybe he was just getting a bit too comfortable.

She was trying not to let it go to her head, how good it had felt to have Harry’s big hands on her body and little kisses pressed to her. How he had been gentle but dominant with her, reminding her to give her his eyes, his words, her lips. He’d kissed her like it was his job and made her head spin, but she figured he must have a lot of good practice on how to be a good kisser. 

When the phone rang the next day and she saw it was Danny, part of her didn’t want to answer. She still felt off about the fact he was okay with someone else touching her so intimately and made her feel so bad about wanting things in the bedroom, but the thing that bothered her the most was just how much she liked Harry touching her. She didn’t know much more about him but he had planned on her coming over to see him this weekend. They were going to actually play a little bit and that excited her to no end. There was no idea on what it was exactly they were going to do, but she knew she would do it for him. 

“Hi.” She said when she finally picked up on one of the last few rings. “Sorry, I’m making food.” It wasn’t a lie. The water was on for pasta. 

“It’s okay. I was just calling to ask how it went.” He said easily. It stung a bit, honestly. She clenched her jaw, unsure how he could be okay with her sleeping with someone else. Did he not know how intimate it was? How safe she had to feel? Clearly not, or she doubted he would let her do this. 

“Went good. He’s really nice and patient.” She mumbled.

“Oh, good. He’s a good guy, even if his tastes are questionable.” 

The girl felt herself stiffen. What the fuck? That wasn’t nice to say. Not about Harry and not about her. She was going to him for her ‘questionable’ tastes, and he never made her feel bad about it. 

“Yeah, well. I’m seeing him this weekend. We’re taking the learning thing slow.” Her fingers picked at the hole in her jeans. “I just wanted to let you know. I’m not really… Comfortable sleeping with two people at once. So I think we need to hold off on our sex together while I do this.” It made her feel icky. Not that there was anything wrong with it, per say. But she didn’t like the idea of him touching her right after Harry. 

“Oh.” He paused. “Okay. That’s fine. Are you still coming out to the bar this weekend though? Or are you and Harry going to be in his sex dungeon.” Now she was irked. Part of her had hoped for maybe a tiny smidge of jealousy. Maybe showing that he cared that she would be spending a lot of time with another man- but nothing. He breezed right past it.  He also talked about Harry in a way she didn’t like the more it happened. Reducing him as solely a man who was a sexual deviant wasn’t nice, or true. He had a dog, he did woodworking, he had a nice house and obviously a good job. He liked music, had vintage band posters in immaculate condition hung up in his hallway. It wasn’t just about who or what he did in the bedroom. 

“Don’t know. I’ll ask Harry.” She mumbled. Since she seemed to be his fucking girl for the time being. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, yeah?” 

There was barely any time to hang up before she sniffled, eyes closing as she tried to fight the tears. She’s really hoped that maybe she would get an inkling of care or jealousy out of him. He must not have a clue about any of the things they were going to do, the trust it involved, the intimacy. Harry was teaching her slowly and he was gentle and kind while also keeping the dominant persona up. It made her melt. 

So instead of calling her boyfriend back and crying to him, she took her phone out to text Harry. 

Y/N: hiiiiii. 

H: Hello. 

Y/N: I had a question if that’s okay? 

H: I have an answer, hopefully. Shoot. 

Y/N: what exactly did you have in mind for this weekend? 

Y/N: am I staying multiple days? 

Y/N: trying to figure out the packing situation. :-) 

Harry smiled down at his phone in his office. He was doing some emails but had abandoned them when he saw her name flash on his screen. He was thankful to hear from her, even more so that she was thinking about this weekend. She wasn’t having second thoughts. 

H: Yes, multiple days. I was thinking you sleep at mine Friday and Saturday, spend some of the Sunday with me. 

H: it’s up to you ultimately. In this situation, you’re in charge with how much or how little time you want to spend with me. It isn’t all going to be whips and chains, perhaps some food breaks in between. 

Y/N: he’s got jokes? 

H: a few. Don’t tell anyone. I can’t lose my mysterious persona. 

Y/N: my lips are sealed. 

Y/N: I told Danny I wasn’t going to have sex with him while I’m doing stuff with you. 

Y/N: we didn’t do it a lot anyways but it feels wrong to do that when we’re doing the things we do. Is that okay?

Was it okay? Harry could feel the smirk on his face, painted there without his permission. It shouldn’t feel so good that she cut him off in order to spend time with him, but it did. He was still astounded that he was willingly letting this happen but now that he’d had a taste of Y/N, he wanted to continue. He’d teach her everything there was to know. 

H: It’s perfectly fine. Anything that makes you comfortable, remember? 

H: it’s probably best, anyways. You went for your testing, yes?

Y/N: yes sir 🫡 bright and early. Should have the results by Friday!!! 

H: perfect. I’ve got mine done up too. You’re still on birth control too? 

Y/N: mhm, I’ve got an IUD. 

H: ouch. I heard those hurt to put in. But thank you for telling me. 

Y/N: it sure isn’t fun. We should probably be put to sleep but they don’t care lol 

H: I know. It’s a shame. I’m sorry that it hurt. 

Y/N: it’s okay :-) no oopsie baby for me!!! 

Y/N: are you planning to… you know… inside me? 

That was something she hadn’t thought about, but the thought was making her hot now. She’d never not used a condom before, always heard it was messy to not, but something about it felt… erotic. Like being marked and claimed. Something that he could play into when they were doing a scene. 

H: if you’d be comfortable with it, I’d love to. But it’s up to you. It’s your body and I respect what you want with it. 

Yep. He had decided that he wanted to do that with her. Already he was breaking his normal limits but the idea had a strong hold on him. Especially knowing now that she wasn’t going to be sleeping with  anyone else while they were together, it made him feel even more inclined to bend the rules he usually made for her. It was just… he wanted to give her everything. Let her experience the true intimacy of it. Plus he couldn’t deny the idea made him hard as stone. 

H: though… overshare? I am partial to the idea of watching your cunt drip with my cum. 

Y/N: I hope you know I’m blushing.

She was more than blushing. She was starting to get wet from the mere mention of it. Harry seemed to like to be blunt that way and there was something so hot about it, he had no fear of saying what he wanted. No matter how crass it may be. 

Y/N: I think I’d like that, though. If everthing is good with my results- which they should be fine- I’m okay with that. I’ve never done it. 

Harry felt himself twitch in his pants behind his desk. A groan audibly left his mouth as he placed his phone down for a moment, running his hand over his face. He shouldn’t like the knowledge he would be the first one bare inside of her. He would be the first one to cum in her. Fuck, he hated how much he loved the idea of it. This wasn’t his girl, wasn’t his to keep, but he was playing pretend like she was. 

H: good to know, pet. I’m excited to explore with you. 

H: you’re a lot of fun, you know that? 

Y/N: I didn’t know that :-) thank you for telling me. I’m really looking forward to seeing you this weekend. 

H: the feeling is mutual, darling. Very much so. 

—-

Y/N felt the familiar tingle of nerves when she pulled into his house. He’d given her the gate code this time, which she punched in and drove herself through as the house took away her breath again. What she wouldn’t do to live in a house like this. It was a Pinterest dream. 

Parking her car to the side, she grabbed her duffle bag and rounded the side to find Harry waiting at his garage door once again. 

God, he was handsome. 

He wore an open baby pink button up with a white tank top underneath and black trousers sitting higher up on his waist. His smile was soft as he watched her approach, stubble a bit more grown out than she remembered and his hair tousled in a sexy off hour type of vibe. To put it lightly, he looked like a model off duty and she felt a bit intimidated. This man found her attractive? She wasn’t insecure that way, but it was admittedly a stroke to her ego. 

“Hi, Darling.” He hummed, reaching out to take her bag from her. “Drive alright?” His eyes scanned over her in appreciation. A dress, one that flirted over her thighs. A soft pink with a subtle floral pattern, cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, flat shoes and a little pearl necklace. “You look adorable.” She really did. The picture of flirty innocence, making him heat slightly when he realized she wore this for him. She had to of, considering he was the person she planned on spending the day with. 

“You think?” The girl beamed, looking down at her outfit. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what to wear or what the plans were. I wanted to look… presentable.” She could feel her cheeks warming from how intently he looked at her. It was unlike what she was used to, like he was drinking in the details. If he looked at her like this now, how would she feel when she was completely bare? “The uh, the drive was alright. Thanks for asking.” She looked at her bag on his shoulder. “You didn’t have to take the bag, I can carry it!” 

“Cute. No, my mother raised me right. Shouldn’t be carrying a thing, especially when you’re coming to stay with me.” He extended a hand. “C’mon, so you don’t catch a chill. Buttons is waiting for you.” The way her face lit up at the mention of his dog made something in his insides soften, her delicate hand slipping into his own and trusting him to lead. Harry knew he was lucky to spend this sort of time with her, and he wasn’t going to risk wasting a moment. All he’d been able to think about during the week was how she had felt under his palms.

As expected, his hand was dropped as they got inside and he said the release command for Buttons, letting her say hello to the excited animal. He whined and went in circles as Y/N giggled, brushing her hands over him and telling him in a soft voice that she had missed him so much. He had to check himself when he found it a bit too cute. Seeing her be this sort of soft was beyond attractive. “Do you want me to put this away on my own, or did you want to come with me?” He said after a few moments. 

“Oh! May I come?” She looked up at him with soft eyes, kneeling on the floor. The vision was marred by his own filthy vision, imagining this exact scenario with a vibrator tucked inside of her needy pussy, tears in her eyes and his cock slipped from her mouth. He felt himself twitch in his trousers, trying to clear the rasp he knew would follow.

“There she goes. Asking for permission already.” His hand came down to stroke her hair, watching her eyes widen as she saw exactly what it was that she said. Her mouth opened to apologize, but he merely shook his head. “I like it, sweetheart. You look good like this.” 

Y/N was burning between her thighs. It was the fastest she thinks she’d ever been aroused in her life. There was an intensity that radiated from him and a heat that crackled between them at her body reacted to his words. She hadn’t meant it like that, no. It was her trying to be polite, but this view was to her favor, too. Seeing him tower over her, his hand stroking her hair like she was the pet, feeding into a bit of a fantasy she had barely explored. That was the point of them, wasn’t it? It was just…. Y/N hadn’t expected for it to feel so good right off the bat. Had tried to write off their kisses and exchange last time as just initial excitement. It was clear now that it was far more than that. “Sorry.” She peeped, unsure of what else to say. 

“None of that.” His scold was gentle as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger. “No apologizing when you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re being a good girl for me already, Y/N.” The praise was sweet falling from his lips, smirk growing as he watched her clench her thighs in what she thought was probably a discreet manner. Buttons had ran off to his toy basket to play, losing interest once Y/N’s hands had fallen from him, but she stayed in her position. Did she even realize what a natural she was at this? When she’d expressed concerns about ‘not being good’ at this last time after this kissing had slowed, he’d been positive she was the perfect person for it- but this proved it.  

The girl took a shaky inhale, smile painting her lips as she looked up at him with hesitancy. “May I get up?” Testing it out. It was difficult because all she wanted to do was please him, and she knew he’d written out terms but… she’d just walked in. It hadn’t been her intention to fall right into it, but they had. She wasn’t quite sure what to say about that. 

Raspberry lips twitched as he let out a breathy laugh, nodding his head. “Very nice. Yes, you may. C’mon.” His hand was extended to hers and he helped lift her up, steadying her as she blinked at him. He merely gave her a comforting look before taking her hand in his again and leading her up the stairs. “Now, I’ve got two options. You can stay in the guest room, settle in there… or you can stay in my room, with me.” It was a loaded question, he knew. “You’re welcome to change your mind about either at any time, of course. It’s up to you.” 

Y/N hadn’t expected the option to actually sleep in his bed with him. That felt… intimate. More intimate than she would have thought, but from what she had been taught so far? The whole thing was intimate. They weren’t doing just a scene, he was teaching her about this lifestyle and she felt excitement bubble in her tummy at the prospect of waking up next to him. He treated her so nicely like this. Surely, he was going to be a bit mean when they played and she craved that- but she had been craving that sort of intimacy desperately. Was it wrong to get her fill whilst she was here? 

“May I sleep with you?” She asked with slight hesitation. It was also up to him, and though he had offered,  she wanted to know his own preferences. “Is that something you’d like?” It was his house, she didn’t want to put him out. 

And truthfully? Usually, he didn’t really care either way. Sometimes he got a bit itchy for alone time when it came to other arrangements he’d had but the man really couldn’t imagine being sick of Y/N. Not wanting to rub his hands all over her and have unadulterated access to her. To see her sleepy and soft in the morning light, see how he could mold her into his own body and possibly have a bit of morning sex. “I’d enjoy it if you did, yes.” He hummed, trying not to show his bias too much. Ultimately it was her decision to make. 

“Okay.” She looked at him cautiously. “Then… I think I’d like to do that. Please.” Adding in the extra manners surely seemed to work in her favor, his smile brightening at it. It made her tummy flip flop, watching him look at her like that. It made her want to get more of it. 

He’d shown her the guest room she could use anyway in case she wanted time apart from him- though he hoped that wouldn’t be the case- before opening the double doors to his bedroom. 

It was a bit of a grand show off way, but he’d always liked the look of a suite. The doors opening and a tiny mini foyer before a hallway, opening up to the large bedroom. Hardwood floors and cream colored walls, a walk in closet to the left and the bathroom to the right as they walked through the hall, which he pointed out. His actual bedroom was quite large, with a fireplace, television, bookcase, large windows… the bed was on an elevated platform with four posters at the end. Her mind buzzed, knowing it was the perfect set up to tie her up. Leave her helpless. The dark red bedding popped against the cream and hardwood, somehow fitting his personality perfectly. It was clean, comfortable, but lived in. 

“Wow, Harry. It’s gorgeous.” Her hand left his as she walked further into the room and looked at whole thing. The loveseat by the windows and bookcase, the incredible view over the hills. It was hard to imagine what this house would cost, but she had to think it was way more than she could fathom. He walked up to the bed and placed her bag there, arms crossed as he watched her pad across the room and take in details. 

He liked the sight of her here. Her hair falling down her back and bouncing as she moved, she enjoyed the decor he put up and told him so. Harry did wonder if it was smart, keeping her in here with him. If he wasn’t going to set himself up for something painful considering he already felt a bit more for the girl than he should, but he couldn’t stop himself. Rationally he knew that she would probably go back to Danny after this was over and she had her ‘fill’ but… part of him hoped she wouldn’t. Even if she wasn’t with him, but someone who would give her what she wanted. What she needed. All without making her feel poorly about herself. 

His hands itched as he watched her bend over to look at a photo frame on the bookcase, eyes falling down to her dress as it rode up and exposed the softness of her thighs. It was short, the dress, and he wondered if she’d done it on purpose. What she was wearing underneath all of it. Part of his mind wanted desperately to call her over, taunt her about the fact she was teasing him and fuck her throat as a ‘punishment’- but he didn’t want to scare her by moving too quickly. Instead, he would give himself a reward for his self control. 

“Y/N? Come here please.” He stood by the bed and watched as she perked up, trotting over to him with a questioning look on her face. She didn’t do a thing to stop him as his hand cupped her chin, tilting her face up so he could look at her. “You’re still happy to be here, yeah?” His voice was soft as he tried to read her reactions.

It was hard for her to think when he held her this way, but she nodded insistently. “Of course. I’ve… I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” She admitted. It had been the whole week of texting and check-ins to make sure she had good days at work and it had become a routine she really liked. Their kissing and his firm tone had haunted her mind the entire time, making her crave more of it. 

“Yeah? You have?” He hummed. “Should have known. You’ve been a sweet girl since I’ve met you, but… I didn’t expect this out of you.” His thumb ran over her bottom lip. “It’s a welcome surprise. Though I never thought I’d find myself in this position with you… I’m glad you’re trusting me enough to help guide you.” It made him feel really fucking good, honestly. Yes, Danny may have suggested it but she was the one with the choice. “I just want to remind you that if you’re ever uncomfortable, you safe word for me. If you want me to stop, tell me. If I’m too mean and you’re hurt, if anything I do hurts past the point of pleasure, if you’re panicking? Stop me. I’ll never, ever be angry with you for doing that.” 

Y/N seemed to be the type to try and push through true discomfort to appease people. He didn’t want that with him. Of course, he would be pushing many limits. Physically and emotionally. But he didn’t want to cross those. It was a large responsibility any time he took a sub, but this was the biggest one yet. Someone he already knew and cared for, even if it was minor- and it was her first time dipping her toe into it. He was setting the tone for her experiences. It was a bit scary, though he’d never tell her that, but he was up for the challenge. “Promise me you’ll do that. For me. Not just as a dominant but as your friend and someone who cares for you.” He sighed, giving her a firm look. 

“Promise. I promise, Harry.” She murmured, understanding the gravity of what he said. He took her safety seriously and he cared for her. “I’ll be a good girl for you. Swear it.” 

Harry grinned, nodding his head. “I know you’ll be a good girl for me, pet. Knew it since you’ve walked in. You jus’ want to make me happy, don’t you?” His tone shifted, just slightly enough to make her body buzz. It was smooth, something reminiscent of last time she was here. At her nod, he let out a breath and smeared his thumb over her bottom lip again. “Good. You know…. Been thinking about these all week.” Her mouth, she realized. Something turned in her stomach and erupted into butterflies, eyes on his face as she tried to decipher what was going on in his mind. “M’gonna feed you and make sure you’re comfortable in a moment, but can I taste you again?” He hummed. “Do I need permission to kiss you this weekend, or is it something you’ll let me take as I please?”

The butterflies melted in her stomach, settling lower and heated her body up in a way she knew was arousal. Excitement. He was still so careful with her, tender, but she couldn’t wait until he was… less so. Until he took what he wanted, like he said, made her bend to his will. Told her what to do. Boss her around. But she understood he couldn’t read her mind and how she was fucking gagging for him to use her, to touch her, so she nodded. 

“Words, Pet. Remember?” He raised an eyebrow and made her breathing catch as his grip on her face tightened. 

“Sorry- sorry. Yes. You can… you can do whatever you want. I like when you kiss me.” She peeped, knowing that she was handing herself over to the man on a silver platter with all the dressings. “I want that.” 

“There we go.” He cooed. “So good. Thank you for correcting that- don’t make me remind you again.” His face got closer to hers. “I’m glad our wants seem to be in agreement.”

Y/N’s brain went haywire as his lips pressed to hers before it went quiet. So quiet, so smooth as his mouth sipped at hers ever so gently before applying a bit more pressure. Her face was still firmly held between his fingers as he kissed her, her hands falling to his button up and curling into the fabric as she did her best to return the kiss the way he wanted. She’d never been kissed like this, where it was so abundantly clear that he was in charge. There was no fighting for dominance- Harry owned her mouth. 

When he pulled away, the whimper fell from her mouth and she pouted as he chuckled, wiping his thumb over the corner of her mouth to clean her up. “S’okay, darling. Don't want you too worked up yet.” He brushed his nose against yours. “M’gonna take good care of you and your needy cunt. Don’t worry about that. But I’ve got to get you unpacked and some food in your belly before I can make you cum. Need your strength.” He sighed, pressing one last peck to her lips before pulling back. “C’mon. I’ve got a drawer cleaned out for you and the second sink is yours. 

Y/N followed him on wobbly knees, wondering just how fucked she was going to be when this is how she felt from mere kisses. 

—-

Dinner was eaten with a comfortable chatter between the two of them. It was surprisingly easy to just…. Be. Harry was a comfortable person to be around and she thought maybe that’s why she felt the way she did for him. Preening at his praise for her new project she shared with him, like a pup waiting for a biscuit. She’d trailed him around the house, going outside with him to take Buttons on his walk after he ate dinner where he had shown her around his yard. His pool, jacuzzi, garden, the tennis court and rock climbing wall- he seemed to have the works, and she was very jealous. What she wouldn’t do to live in this sort of house. Thankfully she was spending time here now, getting to pretend this was her life. 

Standing on the deck, he whistled for Buttons to come back to them before turning to Y/N. “Think we’re getting close to having our fun together.” He hummed. “Tonight we’ll play a bit, get a feel for each other. Tomorrow, I’ll take you out for lunch. Then I was thinking…” he crossed his arms over his body and Y/N gawked at his arms. He was incredibly fucking hot. “I’ll take you to the toy shop. Let you pick something out to try. S’that something you’d be comfortable with?” 

Y/N had to admit she didn’t expect him to do any of that. Not take her out, nor to a sex shop to get a toy for her, but the thought made her dizzy. It was so nice of him, so thoughtful, and still slightly dirty. She loved the idea, really, especially to spend time with him. “Yeah! I’ve never… I’ve never been to one of those before.” Her admittance was quiet. “Always been too nervous to go on my own. He never liked the idea of going even just to look, so I’m excited that you’d be willing to take me.” 

God, Danny was a pussy, wasn’t he? You didn’t even have to be into kinky shit to go to a sex shop. Harry felt for her. Having that urge, that itch to scratch, and feeling like no one around you would accept you for it had to be an uncomfortable and lonely feeling.  “Well I have a favorite shop and money to be spent. So allow me to treat you this weekend, yeah? More than happy to do it and let you experience new things.” 

Y/N felt guilt at the prospect of him spending money on her, but he didn’t seem to be the type to take no for an answer. He’d had dinner ready for them, had helped her unpack her bag, ultimately taken care of her since she’d walked into the house. Even wiped the corner of her lip when she’d gotten a bit of sauce on it. It came so naturally between them that she knew she should probably be a bit concerned but she couldn’t be. Not with how good it felt. “Okay. I can- I hope you don’t feel forced fo pay for me. I have money I can spend too.” She peeped. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage or anything. You’re the one helping me.” 

Harry clicked his tongue, brushing it off. “Well you’re the one letting me get wrapped in that snug little cunt eventually, yeah? Letting me throw you around a bit and have fun with you… so, that’s enough reason for me to want to do it.” He turned to her and pulled her against him, making her meet his eyes again. “For the time you’re alone with me, you’re mine. You told him he can’t touch you while you’re with me, yeah? M’the only one getting access to you like this?” 

“Yes, sir.” She breathed, feeling herself melt in his grip. His tone had changed and she felt it between her thighs as he held the back of her neck. 

“Then that settles it. I take care of what’s mine.” His mouth pressed to hers, stealing a kiss from her lips. “You’ve been doing well tonight. I think I want to play with you a bit now. Go upstairs to the bedroom and sit on your knees, right next to the bed. Hands in your lap.” The visible perk up made him want to smile, but he kept his face straight. Y/N was the prettiest thing, and he was more than looking forward to touching her now. 

Y/N was more than eager, pushing past the nerves and nearly jogging up the stairs as she made her way to his room. He’d lock the house up and settle Buttons for the night, and she would wait patiently for him. 

The hardwood was cold against her knees, but she did as he asked. Kneeling with her hands in her lap, she tried not to let her mind wander. Instead, she looked around the room and bought time as it rolled by. It was a bit uncomfortable, she couldn’t lie. She had to shift around, but the pain excited her a little bit. Her eyes had kept going to the clock by the bed, watching as 10 minutes passed. Each one made her more and more squirmy with the anticipation, but by the 13th minute she could hear his footsteps approaching and she settled into the final position, watching him walk towards her. 

The man looked tall. Powerful. Someone she had to give into. She craved it.  He stopped right in front of her, a gentle hum leaving his lips as he looked down, his hand coming over her head to caress her lightly. “Look at what a good listener you are, pet.” He murmured, fingers finding her cheek and brushing over them as she gave him her eyes. “This is a beautiful sight to walk into. S’where you belong, isn’t it?” His voice was… different. It held a different tone to it, a cadence that he didn’t have when speaking in other instances. It made her wet. “Belong on your knees, waiting for me to tell you what to do. Gorgeous”. He sighed, appreciating the view he had. 

“Yes, sir.” She whispered, mouth suddenly dry as her hands itched to grab his belt and pull him closer so she could feel more of his body heat. 

“You remember your safe word, sweetheart?” He asked, watching as she nodded. When she didn’t say anything else, his hand fisted her hair and tugged back, making her gasp loudly at the slight sting. It only made her feel hotter, mouth opening but failing to say anything. “What have I told you, hm? Told you to stop with the nodding and use your words, like a good girl.” He warned. 

“M’sorry, I’m sorry sir. Yes, I remember.” She winced as the grip on her hair lessened, missing it a little bit as his lips twitched up. Why had she liked that so much? He’d stolen her breath with that move, and they’d only just begun. 

“There we are. Don’t make me ask you again, or m’not gonna be as nice.”’he smoothed her hair back, taking a step forward. “I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to do with you. It’s exciting, you know? Having free reign over your body. A big responsibility, but it’s one I welcome.” Harry loved it now, seeing her reactions to him. She was doing her best to be good already. “It’s hard to plan when there’s so many things I want to show you. But I think we can have some of the basics now. Make use of those hands and take off my belt.” 

Y/N’s shaky hands gripped the belt and slipped the tongue through the loop, the metallic sound filling the otherwise quiet room. Getting the latch undone, she began to pull at it and watched as the leather ran through the loops until the accessory was off of his body. He didn’t say anything, merely stepping closer to her. So close that her mouth was inches away from his groin, making her excitement build. He was hard. She could see it, the print of him through the fabric, and she wanted to touch. 

“Look what you’ve done to me, darling. Got me hard just thinking about the filthy things M’gonna do to you.” He murmured, using his grip on her hair to pull her closer to him. Her nose brushed against his cock, Harry pressing her face against his pants with little effort. “Give me some kisses. Show me how much you want it.” 

One thing was certain- Y/N was eager. The man watched as she nodded, lips pursing against the fabric as she kissed from the base all the way to the tip. Her breath was warm and leaked through the fabric, making his stomach tighten a bit. What got him was the fact that he could tell she enjoyed this, even being nervous. She continued, keeping her hands in her lap like the good girl she was for him. “There’s my good girl.” He cooed. “Do you want to take them off? Want to make me feel good and wrap those puffy lips around my cock, suck me down?” He mumbled, watching as she nodded- though she paired it with words this time. 

“Yes, sir, I’d really like to. I want to make you feel good. May I?” She was a dream, really. Looking at him with pleading eyes, making him want to groan at how lucky he was to get such an eager little thing. He got to explore her fantasies with her and that was an honor. 

“You may. Go ahead and take my pants off- but don’t touch my cock until I tell you to.” Harry was impressed thus far. Y/N was doing an incredible job, and he could see it on her face. How she was leaning into this, that she was a natural at it. Like she was slipping right into a roll she was made for. Her hands were shaky as they pulled his zipper down, fingers gently tugging at the waistband and leading them down his hips. He didn’t offer much help, watching as they were quickly pulled down to his ankles and she looked back up at him, making him lift his leg to let her slip them off completely. “Excellent.” He praised, watching as her fingers went to his briefs but stopped, eyes widening as she caught herself. He hadn’t asked her to take those off. 

“I’m impressed.” He smiled, watching as she stayed where she was. “You were about to do something I didn’t ask for but you remembered. M’glad you caught that.” He could feel himself throbbing in his briefs though, and he desperately wanted her mouth on him. He’d been dreaming about it for days. “Go on. You can take those off.” Harry was arrogant at times, but the swell of his ego was massive as she pulled the fabric over his cock and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her motions of taking the briefs off were even more hurried than the trousers, a little chuckle leaving his mouth. “Take me in your hand, give me a few tugs.” 

Y/N was gentle with it, her warm hand shaking slightly as she curled it around the base of his cock. It wasn’t often she would call a dick pretty, but if any she had ever seen deserved that title? It was his. Thick, slightly curved with a ruddy pink tip. Leaking a little bit, making her pant. She wanted it in her mouth. The deprived girl wanted him to push her down on him until her nose brushed the groomed thatch of hair on his groin that led up to a little happy trail. Never in her life had her mouth gotten wet to the point she thinks she could drool over the sight of something, let alone a person. “You’re so pretty, sir.” She whispered, giving him a stroke. He was hot in her hand and she could feel him twitch in her palm, scooting forward on her knees so he was directly in front of her face. 

“You think so?” He grinned. “Thank you, baby.” 

Baby. Baby. Baby? Y/N liked that nickname a lot. Of course she had been called that before, but something about hearing it from him in this context made her whine. Audibly whine, embarrassing the fuck out of her as she hadn’t meant to do it out loud. 

“Oh, you like that then? Sweet little baby.” The man crooned, stroking her hair back. “I have to admit… I didn’t expect you to be gagging for it like you are. But I’m pleasantly surprised.” He watched her pull his cock again, stroking with a gentle squeeze that made him exhale harder. “Prettiest baby, gagging for my cock. Are you going to let me down that throat, hm? Choke on me a little bit?” He purred, watching her eyes widen. “I know you will. But first, I want you to give me some kisses.” He was taunting her a little and he knew that, but he wanted to watch her squirm. 

“Yeah- I, I really want it Sir. I wanna make you happy.” She rubbed the tip over her lips, his precum wetting them in a filthy vision that had Harry wanting to curse. “Just tell me what to do. I’ll listen.” Soft, hot lips began to kiss up the length of him. Wet kisses, her lips curling around the sides as she pulled back and kissed the other side as well. She wasn’t precise with it, choosing instead to let herself be a little sloppy with her kisses and watch his reaction. 

“You are. Doing so fucking well, pet.” His praises made her smile against his length, which really was the filthiest, most lovely thing he’d ever seen. “You really are dirty, aren’t you? Don’t want to pull away from my cock so you smile on it. Do you think you can do it with me stuffed in your throat?” Realistically he knew she couldn’t- but her answer pleased him anyway.

“I’ll try anything for you.” She blinked up at him, resting the tip at her lips as she smattered kisses around the sensitive area. It took everything in her not to peek her tongue out and lick over the slit, but she had to be good for him. That’s all she wanted. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” He mumbled, watching her give him her best pleading look. “Since you can’t safe word with me in your mouth, pinch my thigh if you don’t want any more. I’m going to let you start, but I’ll take control shortly after.” There was a pause. “M’gonna be gentler because it’s your first time with me, but in the future I’ll push you to your limits. Remember what I told you.” He’d never be angry or upset if she wanted to stop. 

Y/N took the permission though, quickly pulling the head of his cock into her mouth and humming in relief. She’d been dreaming about this all week, just as he had. When he’d initially put her on her knees for him the first time they’d met up, she had hoped this would be the case/ but it was worth the wait with his fingers carding through her hair and taking a handful at the back of her head, loosely waiting as she sucked. 

She loved oral. Really, she did, but there was something about Harry that made her all the more excited to do this for him. Perhaps it was the praise or just his energy, but she could feel the dull throbbing of her clit as she took a bit more of him down. 

“Pretty mouth.” He mumbled, wiping the corner of her stretched lips was she got a bit messier. “Been thinking about it, having you here. Love that you’re eager for it. Are you this much of a  cockslut for everyone else?” She tried her best to deny it, a muffled ‘mm-‘mm’ leaving her throat as she tried to take more of him down. “No? Only for me?” This was easier to confirm, bobbing her head a little bit. Harry let out a hiss as he watched her take more, the first tear slipping from her eyes without permission. He was making her eyes water already. 

“M’glad to hear that. This is going to be your favorite cock, I bet.” He started to take over now, pushing her hand away. “Behind your back- good, perfect listening.” He praised, slowly pushing her further down on his length. “This is where you’re going to dream about being. On your knees for me, a bit helpless. But I think…. Fuck.” His eyes clenched shut for a moment as she gagged on him. He watched for any sign to stop, but she merely opened her wet eyes and looked up at him. “I think you like being a helpless little thing. You want me to use you.” He was getting down to it now, thoroughly impressed- but he felt her hand come up and tap his thigh, immediately pulling back. The girl let out a choked noise, Harry pausing and stroking her hair back, looking down in concern. “Okay, baby?” He whispered, watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. “Need a break?”

“Y-yeah I’m okay. We can keep going but...” Her voice was hoarse. “I just- I couldn’t take anymore.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I wanted to take all of it. I tried-“ she was immediately cut off with Harry cooing at her, lifting her head up and his face bent down to look at her. 

“None of that. It’s okay, darling.” He smiled. “M’just a bit too big for you to take yet. I know. It’s disappointing but…. You’ll learn.” He thumbed away a tear. “We can work on training that throat to take what it was made for. Okay?” Despite how dirty his words could be, he was still comforting her. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re only just now learning how to be the little whore you’ve always wanted to be.” He got down further, pulling her face up for a messy kiss before straightening up. “How about this. You’ll let me fuck your mouth, but I won’t try and make you take it all. Really want to cum on this pretty face, been aching for it all day.” 

Y/N was burning from his words, the lack of air, her throat. All of it felt good, though. She loved how he spoke to her, the zip of the degrading ruining her panties. She’d been so disappointed in not being able to take all of him, but she liked the idea he proposed. Training her. It made her think about spending more time with him. Sure, it was supposed to be a short term thing but… she was going to take her time if this was the only shot she had of living out her fantasy. 

“Sound good to you, pet? You think you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir. Please fuck my mouth.” She whimpered, aching for him to get back into it. 

And he did. Fuck, he really did. 

Harry was gentle at first, scooping her hair up into a makeshift ponytail. She was kneeling on the bed platform, giving her more ease to suck at the level she was at and him the ability to move her as he pleased. At first he pulled her down onto his prick, easing her into it. Giving some semblance of choice- but when she proved she could take him, he began to truly fuck her mouth. 

He wasn’t brutal, no. It wasn’t exactly what she expected- it was better.  Firm with his strokes but only pushing her to the limit, making he drool around his cock as her hands were held behind her back. Her arms were starting to ache a bit from holding the position but she liked the burn. She liked that he held her head still while she laid her tongue flat and let him thrust into her mouth, pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. Even more so, she loved how he talked to her. 

“There she is. This is what my greedy pet wanted, isn’t it?” He purred, eyes dark as he looked down at her. “Taking it so well. Messy little thing.” His gaze was hooded as he pushed her down as far as he knew she was comfortable, pushing a bit and making her throat flex around him as he let out a deep groan that went straight to her cunt. “Fuck, yes. Work that little throat for me. Fucking perfect.” He hissed.

It was hard to see with her eyes tearing up but what she did see was perfection. Seeing him lose that control as he watched her swallow his cock, her lips strained from being wrapped around it. Her jaw was going to ache something fierce but it was worth it. 

“Look so innocent, but you’re a deprived whore behind closed doors. Fucking love it, you know that?” He breathed. “Letting me show you how good it feels… how it’s good to let go and be the brainless slut you want to me. Just hand all that control over to me, open that pretty mouth and do what you were born to do. Pleasure me.” He was testing the dirty talk, giving her a glimpse of the degradation she had asked for but not go too hard into it. With each sentence he could see her clenching her thighs, he could feel how she sucked harder over him as he spoke. She liked it. 

Harry was in heaven. Of course he’d expected a bump in the road, multiple really, considering no dynamic was perfect right off the bat- but Y/N was taking to it really well. He’d been impressed with how much of him she could take, the fact she wanted her mouth fucked, and to be honest? She was good. Sloppy, her inexperience in this showing, but really fucking good. He’d happily train her mouth and throat to take him all the way, but this was just as good. His head was swimming in pleasure, her hair tight in his hand as he watched her saliva drip down her chin and onto her poor dress, how she took it without complaining. The girl was a goddamn dream, and he knew this had been the right decision. 

“Messy little baby. Making a fucking mess on my cock and your dress. It’s a good thing you’re not going to need to wear it for much longer.” He smiled, looking a bit drunk.Y/N loved being the one to make him look like that. “Really, you’re not gonna… not gonna need much clothing with me. Doubt you’ll want to wear any with how needy you are. Gonna bend over and offer yourself up to me.” He is breath hitched as he pushed deep, letting himself hold it there before pulling out and letting her cough. Y/N, the filthy thing,  smiled at him with her wet eyes and soaked chin. 

“Yes, Sir.” She breathed. “I want you to cum. Please…” she moaned as he rubbed the wet head of his cock over her cheek, painting it with her spit and his precum. She knew she had to look a mess, but Harry was giving her a look that made her feel like she was going to be devoured. “Please, I’ve been a good girl. I took you, I’ll keep getting better- I want your cum.” Her voice turned that tiny tinge whiny, just like he had predicted. 

“You really are a cockslut. Should I add cumslut to your list of names too?” He chuckled in disbelief. His hand stroked firmly over his prick, smearing it over her face as her lips pursed to kiss it as it passed over. “Fuck me. Where did that shy little thing go? She’s gone away and left me with a filthy excuse of a pet.” He lowered his voice. “Love that. I think I can give you my cum. M’so close.” He head tipped back slightly as he pushed back into her mouth, taking a few dips in the wet heat. The only thing that could beat this was cumming in her cunt. Watching it drip out- but this would be a very close second. 

“Beg me for it.” He ordered, pulling out and stroking right in front of her face. The dominant could feel it it in his balls as they tightened, watching her genuine need. “Be a good little pet, ask me for my load all over your pretty face.” 

There was no acting here. “Please, please give me your cum sir.” She whined, panting as she pleaded. “I want it so much, I was a good girl and I- I need it. I want to be messy with your cum, I want to taste it.” She stuck her tongue out for a moment, letting him smack the tip over it a few times before he pulled back again. Wasn’t good enough. 

“I’ve been thinking about it and touching myself imagining you all week- and, and I really really want you to cum on me. Make me dirty. I’ll do anything.” Her eyes watered again, “please? Please, sir.” 

Harry liked that a bit too much. Y/N was a vision on her knees for him, with her wet face and teary eyes, a glow on her skin that only reminded him of how lucky he truly was to be in this sort of position. He was the first one to give her the things she’d been craving for god knows how long and she truly looked desperate for it. The poor thing was tearing up, falling slightly into that space he had been curious to see just at the prospect of his cum. He couldn’t hold back on her anymore, not when she had been deprived of most of the other things she wanted. 

“Tongue out. Stick your fucking tongue out, and give me your eyes.” His words were chased through clenched teeth as he felt his stomach tightening, her pink tongue laid out and her breathing erratic as she nearly whimpered for him as he rubbed the head of his prick over her tongue. His eyes were glued to her, watching a single tear start to slip down her flushed cheeks- and that was it. He’d always been good at holding back his orgasm before but he couldn’t control this one, a heady groan echoing in the room as one hand held her head still whilst the other milked himself of his load. Watching it paint the pad of her tongue, some dripping down her chin as she tried her best to keep it all in her mouth.. She was such a good girl. It was in her nature, he could tell, and he had been the one to experience her first appearance. Her first bloom as she puffed against his cock, staying still while he fisted himself, making sure to drain every last drop from her balls on her waiting tongue. She deserved it. “There we are… there’s my pretty pet. Keep it on your tongue. Don’t swallow.” He could feel his legs slightly weaken as he regretfully pulled himself away. He needed a minute before he could do something else, but already he could feel his heat seeded in his tummy just by the view. 

It was hard not to be obsessed with the image. 

“Do you want to spit it out, darling?” His voice was softer now, hand that clenched her hair letting go to gently stroke her surely sore scalp. She whined in her throat though, shaking her head as her brows furrowed looking up at him. Christ. “You want to swallow it?” A nod. He’d underestimated just how dirty she was. “Alright, baby. Swallow it then, you were good. Can have what you want.” 

Y/N looked up at him obediently, keeping their eye contact as he watched her swollen lips close and her throat bob from her swallowing. Gingerly tipping her head further back, he thumbed the spillage from the corner of her mouth across her lips and pressed inside, dragging the cum over the pad of her tongue and smiling as she gave him an unsure look. “Suck for me. There you go… M’so proud of you.” He cooed, gently pulling her body up to sit on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling, hm? Throat a little sore?” The dominant kneeled between her now split legs, thumbing over her bare knee as he checked in on her. 

To be honest, she looked incredible. And he wasn’t just saying that because a dribble of his cum had gotten on her tits. She looked happy. A shy smile on her flushed face and a glow to her skin, eyes hazy and soft, this was the ideal he had for anyone he played with. Happy. He’d gone easy on her to start, but he could only imagine how fucked out he could get her later on down the line. When he pushed her to the limits and she became even more proud of herself for pleasing him, drunk on orgasm and giggly in that space only someone like him could get her to. 

“M;okay.” She peeped, cautiously laying her hand on top of his. “Can I hold your hand? Is that okay?”

Harry felt his heart grow a little, smiling fondly as he flipped his hand over to intertwine their fingers. Their joined hands were brought to his mouth and a spattering of kisses was given to her knuckles, a show of appreciation for her and fondness over the cute little shit she did. “Fucking adorable. Y’know that, darling?” He chuckled under his breath. “Need to check in on you though. Make sure you know just how incredibly you did, that you were okay with everything that just happened, if you need anything to change. I went a bit easy on you for our first time.” 

Y/N’s head was swimming in a good way. Of course it had been far more intense than any blowie she had ever given but that was the point. Harry had been the one in control all while giving her a little leeway. Her face had been fucked, albeit not as much as she had hoped. Her body was still hot over the idea of him training her throat to take him. There were so many things that should be floating through her head right now but it was hard to think further than Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. He’d been so good to her, given her that taste she had been gagging for and now she knew she wanted more. This feeling was addictive. Maybe her head was swimming from the slight lack of air, but maybe that meant she’d be even more into breathplay than she imagined. Either way, she was happy.

“M’so happy.” She admitted, the rasp of her voice making her toes curl. He had done that to her. “I liked it all. Liked how you pulled my hair, how you talked to me a-and that you just… you fucked my face. I’ve wanted it for ages.” Her face felt hot even admitting that but there was nothing but acceptance and pride on his face as he nodded, lips brushing against her hand. His stubble was scritchy and she liked that. “Was a little disappointed I couldn’t take it all though. You’re… you’re bigger than anyone i’ve been with.”

“Didn’t expect you to.” The man laughed. “I know it’s a lot for your throat, sweetheart. Hasn’t been properly fucked before. Stroking my ego a little with that, but I’m patient. I’ll make sure you can take it soon. Just takes a little practice.” his face leaned closer to hers. “Luckily, I’m full of that when it comes to teaching you. You’re a lot of fun.” His lips pressed against hers chastely, pulling back with a pleased look on his face. “I know you’re probably wanting a little bit of relief, throbbing for me to touch you, aren’t you?” He hummed, watching as she eagerly nodded, blinking at him in hope. However, he wasn’t going to make it that easy for her. “But I think…” The evil little smile on his face made her nervous. “This would be a good time to show you your own bit of patience.”

[sourxcherri]

Wanna bet?

synopsis: Gojo isn't feeling up to going on a date with you and Geto, but he thinks of another way to have fun with you.

feat.: Gojo Satoru x afab!fem!reader x Geto Suguru [established relationship] (Gojo's only in the start and end.)

warnings: 18+ content/smut; sex toys [reader wears a vibe in public]; edging; orgasm denial/delay; public sex [reader is fucked in a public bathroom.]; unprotected sex; p in v sex; creampie; praising [reader receiving]; pet names [princess, baby, good girl, pretty girl]; picture taking [Geto takes a picture without asking]

w.c: 5k

a/n: This took me entirely too long to write but hey its finally done. There is a planned part 2 but it's going to be a bit before that one gets posted. banner by @/benkeibear

Minors and Ageless blogs will be blocked.

"Come on 'Toru, are you sure you don't want to come with us?" You ask with a pout as you get ready in the mirror.

"I'm sure. I woke up with a headache, plus you two haven't got to do anything without me in a while. You and Suguru go enjoy yourselves!" Gojo says as he leans against the doorway watching you get ready. A new cafe had opened up that you had been wanting to try, so you were going to go try it today with Geto after doing some light shopping.

"We can go some other day if you're not feeling up to it? You know I like spending time with both of you, it doesn't have to be one-on-one."

"It's fine, you two can go try it and let me know what to order next time we all go."

"Fine, if you're sure." You say, drawing on your eyeliner. Gojo is quiet for a moment before letting out a hum.

"Actually on second thought, since you want me there so bad, I have an idea." He says before walking back into the bedroom and returning shortly with something in his hand. "Since you want to have fun with me so badly today too, how about a bet?" He asks with a cheeky smile on his face.

"A bet?"

"Yep! Since I won't be there physically with you, how about you take this with you as a reminder of me?" He says as he moves what was in his palm to hold between his thumb and index finger. You look back in the mirror to see him holding a pink vibrator. You recognize it as one he had gotten you for Valentine's day last year. It was a remote control bullet one that could be controlled from a phone app.

"You're kidding, right? And what does me wearing a vibrator in public have to do with a bet?" You ask incredulously.

"The bet is, if you can wear this the whole time you and Suguru are out, without you removing it, and without you coming, then I'll be your slave for a whole week! Whatever you want; I'll be at your beck and call!" He smiles at you cheerfully while he spins the bullet around in between his fingers.

"And what do you get if I take it out or come?"

"If you take it out or come, then you're my slave for week. Equal punishment." He shrugs before smirking at you. "So what do you say? I'll obviously have my phone on me at all times so if you ever need me to stop all you have to do is text me and I'll stop, but that will mean you forfeit the bet."

Your eyes flick back and forth from Satoru to the toy and then back again, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you thought about it. You weren't terribly keen on the idea of getting caught in public, but you couldn't deny the thrill of it either. Plus the opportunity to have Gojo completely at your control for an entire week was too good to pass up. You let out a sigh and hold our your hand to him to put the toy in.

"Okay, deal." You couldn't believe you were going to go along with this, but you did trust him to stop if it did become too much, so it couldn't be that bad right?

"Excellent!" He says. You wait for him to put the vibrator in your hand. He just raises an eyebrow at you and makes a spinning motion with his hand, silently asking you to turn around. Of course he would want to put it in himself.

You resign yourself to your fate and turn around so your back is to him as you bend over the sink. You feel him walk up behind you and playfully grind himself into your ass before flipping up the skirt you had put on earlier. He pulls your underwear to the side and teasingly slides the toy down your folds, using it to circle your clit before sliding it back up. You bite back a small moan.

"'Toru, hurry up, Suguru is waiting."

"As you command princess," He chuckles before pushing it past your entrance, just out of reach of your sweet spot. Gojo lets your panties snap back into place before giving your ass a playful swat. He bends over and gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head then leans down to whisper in your ear.

"There, all set. Just remember, this is the one that gives feedback to the app, so I'll know if you come." He straightens back up before yawning and stretching. "I'm going to go lie down, see you when you get home."

As Gojo returns to bed, you grab your purse and head out to the living room where Geto is waiting for you, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When he sees you he gives a small smile as he stands up from the couch.

"Ready?" You nod and let him lead you out the door.

You both decide to take the train, the station wasn't that far away of a walk and you didn't have Gojo to complain about the fact you have a perfectly good functioning car to take, one that he rarely drove himself, the passenger princess he was.

The ten minute walk to the station passes by smoothly, you managed to walk normally despite the toy inside you. You couldn't help but get a little suspicious though, as Gojo had yet to turn the toy on.

It wasn't until you both had boarded the train that Gojo decided to start the toy. It was fairly crowded, so you and Geto had to stand. As the train went to take off, Gojo turned the vibrator on, setting it to a slow pulsing setting. You let out a squeak and rock forward into Geto, the sensation catching you off guard for a moment. He's quick to wrap his arm around you to try and steady you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He asks, looking down at you. You give him your best reassuring smile.

"I'm fine, just lost my balance for a moment." He accepted your answer easily before picking back up your previous conversation.

Which made you realize, you and Gojo hadn't discussed the possibility of Geto finding out about the bet. If he found out would you lose? The rules were you couldn't take the vibrator out and you couldn't come. It wouldn't really matter if Geto found out so long as you didn't go against the rule right? He might give you and Gojo a disappointed look for leaving him out, but that would be it surely? Or would he get genuinely upset?

Either way, you were determined to not let him in on the bet, at least not yet. It would be an interesting surprise for him when you both got home. Who knows? Maybe you could have him help you find some fun punishments for Gojo for the upcoming week.

The first store you stop in doesn't go as smoothly as you hoped. It was a clothing store, and you needed to pick yourself up some new work clothes. So far Gojo had been keeping the speed relatively slow, instead opting to just change the pattern in which it vibrated, from a pulsing one, to a constant one, to a deeper, rumbly one, then back. You could handle that with relative stealth, Geto seemed none the wiser to what you and Gojo were doing.

You had already decided to skip trying on any pants today, feeling how damp your panties were already. Shirts should be fine though, and if it ever got to be too much you could use trying one on in the dressing room as an excuse to get away long enough to adjust.

As you were about to pull a shirt you liked off the rack to show Geto, you felt the toy almost double in speed and return to a constant buzz, causing you to pause as your hand had touched the shirt. You felt your body involuntarily shiver at the change in setting. Unfortunately, Suguru seemed to notice.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, confused. You quickly let go of the shirt like it burned you.

"Yeah, just, wasn't the texture I thought it would be." You say as evenly as possible. You walk around the clothing rack to put some distance between the two of you, hoping he couldn't see the blush that was slowly starting to rise in your cheeks. As if to sabotage you, you felt the toy pick up in speed again. You needed to excuse yourself from Geto's sight and fast or else he was going to catch on.

You snatch another shirt off the rack you were vaguely thinking about before turning back to your boyfriend and announcing you were going to go try it on. You moved as quickly as you could to the changing rooms, leaving him far behind you.

Once you located an empty one, you went inside and almost slammed the door in your haste to get it closed. You sit on the bench provided and lean back, letting your head gently hit the wall as you rode out the wave of pleasure the toy was giving you.

You take deep breaths, trying to focus on your breathing as opposed to how good the toy was making your pussy feel. You spread your legs and pull up your skirt before looking down at yourself. Just as you expected, your panties were already soaked through from your arousal. You felt the toy change patterns again, this time back to the pulsing one. Good, even at a higher speed you could handle this one easier.

Deciding you couldn't hide for much longer before drawing suspicion, you steel yourself and open the door to find Geto waiting for you. He looks up from his phone to see you and pouts when he notices you weren't wearing the new top.

"Not going to give me a little show?" He teases.

"No, didn't like how it looked on me." You shrug as you put it on one of the return racks in the dressing area. You grab his hand and go to lead him out of the store.

"Already done?" You turn back and smile at him.

"Yeah, I'm not seeing much I like, plus we still have to stop by that bakery for Satoru." Even though the last thing you wanted to do right now was treat Gojo to anything. You could picture his smug face as he lazed in bed staring at his phone, thinking of the best way to push your buttons. As if on queue, the jerk changes the speed again to another setting higher.

You try to make it through the bakery as quickly as possible, both you and Geto picking out something you think Gojo would like and waiting to check out. He had yet to turn the speed down from earlier, and was cycling through the patterns faster than before.

You weren't sure at this point if he was trying to make you come or if he just wanted to torture you. Just as you could feel yourself starting to tip closer to your orgasm, he changed the settings, causing you to lose any progress you had before switching it back again with a vengeance. One particular cycle hit you hard, maybe because your body was almost to the point of begging for release, that you had to cover your moan up as a sneeze, burying your face in the crook of your elbow to hide your face while you got your bearings.

You kept silently praying that Geto couldn't hear the buzzing of the toy inside of you, but if he did he acted like he didn't notice.

"Are you sure you're alright? Your face is starting to get red and now you're sneezing. You're not getting sick are you?" Geto pushes your hair away from your forehead, trying to feel for a fever as he looks down at your face.

"I-I'm fine, really! Just allergies is all." You lie, hoping you sound more convincing than you feel. He looks at you skeptically before letting out a sigh and removing his hand from your face. "Fine, but we're stopping at the store on the way home and picking up some medicine for both of you."

By the time you make it to the cafe, you're surprised you're even managing to function. You're so wet that every step you take causes the friction from walking to slide just right on your clit. Gojo hasn't let up on his ministrations either, making it impossible to ignore the toy inside you with how often he was playing with the toy. At this rate you didn't think you could make it one more stop after this. You had already been so tempted to tell Geto that you were already tired and ready to go home, but seeing as how you had been talking all week about how badly you wanted to come, you knew that would clue him in that something was wrong which would lead to more questions and him possibly figuring out what was really going on.

By the time you got to the register to order, your mind was so hazy you could barely be bothered to read the menu, and just ordered the first thing you saw that your over stimulated brain could comprehend.

"I thought you didn't typically like those types of drinks?" Geto questions as you both sit down at a table closer to the back of the cafe with your coffees in hand.

"I thought I'd try something different. Since the place is new, maybe they'd make it b-better." You take a sip of the drink as if to prove your point but find that you did, in fact, not like the drink you had picked out. Too late to change it now you thought as you went to take another sip, trying to convince Geto you had totally made this drink decision with your sound mind, and not your horny one.

Gojo had other plans though as you feel him crank the vibrator setting higher, a little whine slipping from your lips as you brought the cup up to your lips. You quickly set the cup down and cover your mouth to stifle any more noises he might wring out of you.

Geto immediately narrows his eyes and you could tell he was catching on that something was amiss with you. He watches you closely for a moment before going to open his mouth to say something.

"I-I need to use the restroom." You say shakily as you abruptly push your chair back and head towards the bathroom at the back of the cafe. Damn Gojo, for picking the worst timing to turn the toy to a higher setting. You thought you heard Geto calling after you, but you were so focused on trying not come in public that you couldn't be sure.

You make it to the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief when you notice it's a one toilet kind and not a restroom full of stalls. Less risk of someone walking in and hearing you.

Or so you thought. As you opened the door to go inside, a gentle hand pushed you in, and you felt the presence of someone behind you as you heard the door close and the *click* of the lock. You turn, ready to tell whoever off only to see Geto had apparently been close behind you as you made your escape.

Geto gives you a stern, worried look, but before he can ask you what was really going on, Gojo decided to change the setting of the toy again, changing it from a constant whirring to the deep rumbly setting, causing you to let out a small moan. You slapped your hand over your mouth but the damage was done, Geto's worried expression turning into one of recognition.

He backs you up against the sink, using a knee to spread your legs open for him as he slides his right hand up the inside of your trembling thighs under your skirt and cups your throbbing cunt in his large hand. You couldn't hold back your whine, the feel of his hand on you and the toy inside of you almost pushing you over the edge. Geto quirks a brow.

"You're soaked. Did the coffee taste so good it got you this wet?" He teases before leaning forward and pushing his fingers passed your underwear into your pussy, poking at the toy inside you before murmuring hotly in your ear, "Or maybe it was this?" He goes to push the toy into your sweet spot, but you grab his arm.

"I, I can explain. P-please let me explain, I c-can't come yet." You rush out, squeezing his wrist tightly. Geto withdraws his hand from your cunt, opting instead to gently hold your waist.

"I'm listening."

You breath a sigh as you feel the vibrator inside you slow to a lower setting. Finally a break, you might just win this yet.

"Satoru and I made a be-" before you can finish, the toy spikes to what you assume might be the highest setting, causing you to whimper and drop your head onto Geto's chest while your hands grip the counter edge. You try to control your breathing and focus on literally anything that might distract you enough to keep your orgasm at bay. Geto being so close and smelling so good did not help.

As quickly as it started, the toy slows inside you. It was so going to be over for Gojo once you won this bet. Oh right, you were telling Geto about the bet.

"Go on," Geto says soothingly, rubbing what would normally be comforting circles into your hips but now it only served to further overstimulate you in your edged state.

"Right. Satoru made me a bet that if I-I can wear the vibrator while we're out and not come, then he'll do w-whatever I say for a week." You manage to pant out, bracing yourself for the inevitable speed spike you knew Gojo was going to throw at you any moment now.

"Hmm, that wasn't very nice of you two to leave me out." He mutters, still rubbing circles into your skin before seeming to lose himself in thought for a moment.

You had a sneaky suspicion that Gojo would of clued Geto in to sabotage you, but none of Geto's earlier actions suggested he knew about the deal. Maybe Gojo hadn't clued him in after all. A surprise really given how much they both love to tease you.

Geto lets out a small hum and you notice a dangerous glint in his eye when you look up at him. Taking advantage of your hazy state, Geto begins to slides your panties down your legs, letting out a low groan as he watches a string of your essence break away from your pussy. "God, you're so fucking wet."

"W-wait, Suguru what are you doing?" He picks you up and sets you on the counter next to the sink before he finishes pulling your panties off to let them dangle around one of your ankles.

"You and Satoru are getting to have your fun, so I'm going to have some myself." He pushes his fingers inside you again. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and bite to suppress your moan as his thick fingers pull the vibrator slowly out of you. He holds the pink bullet in his hand and observes its buzzing. Gojo must have changed the setting again as now its pulsing instead of the one continuous buzz you had previously felt.

You hear as the speed changes, the whirring becoming louder and echoing off of the walls in the small bathroom. Geto brings it closer to his face and licks your wetness off it, letting out a small moan at your taste. Your eyes roll back and your head falls back into the mirror with a dull thud at the obscene gesture. He chuckles.

"Poor thing, Satoru 's been so mean to you all day." He coos as he pockets the vibrator and goes to unbutton his jeans and pull his cock out.

You didn't quite know what to do with realization that he was going to fuck you here and now in the bathroom. The competitive part of you didn't want to lose the bet, and knew if you told him to stop he would, but the part of you that had been edged all day was very excited at the idea of having his thick cock inside you. In the end all you could do was whine out, "Suguru, please."

"Shhh, I know. Trust me baby, as soon as I'm done here we'll go home and you can end your bet, yeah?" He peppered your forehead with kisses as he ran his fingers up your dripping pussy, carefully avoiding your clit, before using the wetness he collected as lube to stroke his cock to fullness.

Once he's fully hard he lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in. He slides right in from how wet you are. You bit your lip as he bottoms out to try and hide your moan but to no avail, he just felt too good inside you. Screw it, if you came from this you could deal with the consequences of losing your bet.

Geto grabs the backs of your thighs, pushing them up and almost folding you in half before he starts thrusting in.

All you could do was let your head fall back as you moan. His cock felt heavenly stretching you out compared to the small vibrator you'd had inside you all morning. His thrusts start out slow, giving you time to adjust to his girth. Not that you needed it with how turned on you were from the vibrator. It doesn't take him long though to start a fast and brutal pace, leaving your eyes rolling back while moans and whines fall from your mouth.

You were close, so close, that hot coil that'd been tightening in your belly all day just needing that one final push before it would snap. But why hadn't you hit it yet? You're lust riddled brain trying to sort through the fog to find that last spark needed to trigger your release. It's then when you realize that at the angle Geto was thrusting, he was purposely missing grinding against your clit, and just barely grazing that wonderful, spongy spot deep in you. How mean of him, couldn't he tell how badly you needed to come?

You snake your hand down between the both of your bodies. If he wasn't going to be of any help then you'd do it yourself! Except right as your fingers find your clit, he stops you by grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mirror above your head. You whine, tears starting to well up at the corners of your eyes from how frustrated you were.

"Sugu pl-please! I'm so close, wan' come," you plead, looking up at him through the tears clinging to your lashes. His lidded eyes were locked on himself sliding in and out of you, fixated on the ring of creamy white that you were leaving at the base of his cock with each thrust. He smirks down at you and lowers himself closer to your face.

"Just a, fuck, just a little longer baby. I'm almost done, be a good girl for me, yeah? This pretty pussy 's takin' me so, so well." He ends his praise with a groan before covering your mouth with his own and giving you a languid kiss, contrasting the rapid snap of his hips into your own.

He kept his lips on yours, muffling your whimpers, causing the lewd sound of his body slamming into yours to echo through the small bathroom without any interruption, any fear of being heard by a someone else completely forgotten in the moment.

It didn't take long for his thrusts to become erratic and sloppy. You could feel his cock throb inside you before he shuddered against you, moaning into your mouth as he filled you with his white hot release. You moan with him, arms coming up to wrap around the back of his neck as you kiss him while he finishes fucking himself through his orgasm. He drops his head on your shoulder for a moment, allowing the both of you to catch your breath before he straightens up.

"Hold your thighs for me pretty girl." He commands as he fishes in his back pocket for something. You do as your told, your hands coming up to hold the back of your thighs the same way his own had earlier, keeping your ruined pussy on display for him. He pulls his phone out and you can see his thumb swipe a few times before angling it down at you. Geto pulls out of you slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of the other's warmth. "Eyes on me, baby."

You feel his release slowly start to drip out of you, mixing with your own juices that had dripped down from your entrance and onto the bathroom counter while he fucked you. You watch as his eyes roll back at the sight as he lets out a low moan at the sight. You also hear the sound of his phone's camera shutter several times before he shoves it back into his pocket.

He reaches back into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out the pink vibrator, it still whirring lowly. "Stay still and relax for me. You're being so good for me pretty girl." He murmurs as he presses the toy against your fucked out cunt, causing you to shudder at the feeling. It slides in with a wet squelch, causing some of his come to slide out as it enters you, dripping down your ass to collect with the rest.

You're not entirely sure that you're thankful that its set on a lower setting or not, desperately wanting to come. Geto doesn't slide it in deep enough for it to rub up against your sweet spot, instead leaving it closer to your soaked entrance. He moves your legs around to slide your panties back up your thighs, causing the toy to jolt inside you slightly, making you whimper.

Realizing how close you must of been, he grabs your chin in one of his warm hands and forces you to look at his face. "Don't you dare come. Focus on me baby, deep breaths. You're almost done, don't ruin it now." You look up and focus on his face, still flush from his own orgasm, sweat dripping down his temples and part of his bangs stuck to the side of his face. You manage to slow your breathing down enough to bring yourself back from the edge. He gives you a quick kiss on your forehead as he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and zips them up. "Let's clean up here and head back home so you can have your victory lap, yeah?"

You nod meekly as he helps you down from the counter. He quickly wipes the it down before leading you out of the bathroom, not even bothering to check if there was anyone watching.

Gojo sits on the couch wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats. He's staring at his phone with an intrigued expression. The app on his phone he's been using to control the toy inside you showing him a lack of feedback from the toy. It looks like its been lodged in one relatively restricted place for a good moment, meaning there was no way it was still inside of you.

Had you given up and taken it out to shove it your purse? He could tell you hadn't come from it yet; were you too embarrassed to have an orgasm in public? Or did you remove it temporarily to see if you give yourself an orgasm and avoid him finding out about it?

He smirks to himself. Either way, it looks like he won. You had taken the toy out before making it home, effectively forfeiting the bet. As he starts to think of all the ways he's going to punish you for losing the bet, his phone dings with a notification from Geto. Figuring it was an "on our way back" text, he opens it before realizing its an attachment.

Gojo's smirk is wiped off his face when he's greeted with a picture of you looking up at the camera. Teary eyes had caused your mascara to run down your face as you were leaned back against a bathroom mirror with your hands holding your thighs up and apart, putting your pussy dripping with both yours and Geto's combined spend on full display, his come dripping down your ass to pool on the counter while your underwear dangled around one ankle.

His sweats become tight as his cock that had been at half mast before was now fully awake and throbbing. As he takes in the filthy sight in, he receives another text from Geto.

[Found out about your little bet. Hope you're ready to clean up the mess you made when we get home.🖤]

Realizing that Geto must of taken the toy out of you to fuck you, Gojo decides that technically wasn't against the bet. He was hoping if Geto found out that he would of sabotaged you, but instead it looks like he decided to have some fun of his own, and helped you win in the process.

Granted you still hadn't made it home, so he could be a jerk and try and trigger your release. But he decided against it; he knew when he lost, and now that Geto was involved he thought losing the bet was going to be just as interesting as winning it would of been.

He decides to give you a break and turns the vibrator off. Gojo leans back against the couch and begins lazily palming himself through his pants, eagerly waiting for you and Geto to make it home.

[danveration]

What if I told you I'm a mastermind? And now you're mine.

Parings: Dark!Creepy!Vox x GN!reader

Summary: Vox has a plan to finally make you his

Word count: 3145

Warnings: Stalking, obsession, manipulation, delusion, self-delusion, reader getting hypnotized by Vox against their will, mention of death, mentions of cannibalism (cannibal town), being watched while naked, reader being hurt by Vox physically

Part one

A/N: GUYS. I have a part 3 planned out but it’s REALLY fucking dark😭. Also, I was listening to the song “Mastermind” by Taylor Swift while writing this. (Hence the inspiration for the title)

Vox is getting impatient.

It’s been two weeks since he met you face to face. Two weeks since he gave you the laptop in which he’s been watching you through the webcam, and still all the cameras. Two weeks since you have been getting paranoid.

Ever since you’ve been using the laptop, you’ve noticed it’s been sparking with electricity whenever you use it. You kind of brushed it aside though because maybe this is normal for VoxTek technology.

But little did you know, it’s not normal. None of this is normal. Vox has been watching you and seeing what you browse on your laptop 24/7. He has had little no breaks. Valentino and Velvette have been giving Vox the side eye as of late, looking at him with pity/concern. He doesn’t care though, he just thinks they’re the crazy ones. This is completely okay and normal for him! How is it wrong? Nobody could prove him otherwise.

Vox must admit, seeing you face to face on the laptop camera other than angles from the cameras that are far away, is completely different. This is a millstone for him. He gets to admire you up close and take in every single detail of you. A couple days ago, you forgot to close your laptop that was on a table in your room, facing your bed. That was a fantastic day for Vox. He had a field day. He isn’t ashamed of what he did, he’s proud. He did it for you.

You’re currently sitting on your bed with your laptop, scrolling through Hell’s news feed. You’re bored, you want to do something but honestly there’s nothing much to do in Hell that doesn’t have a 90% death rate. You decide to close the laptop and go downstairs.

Vox is up. He’s been up. He had two cups of coffee beside him and he’s been awake for.. What is the hour now? He’s lost count. He just doesn’t want to miss something happening in your life! What if you wake up with a nightmare? What if bad people want to hurt you suddenly when you’re outside or asleep?? There’s so many things that could happen. He needs to be there and alert to protect you.

“Fuck sakes, Vox. You’re still on this? Clear your head, dummy!” Velvette says with a roll of her eyes.

“Shut up. My head is clear, Velvette. I’m as sane as I’d ever be!” He says.

“Uh huh.. sure. Whatever you say.” She says, walking away.

Vox shakes his head and chuckles. “People are crazy.”

He looks back up to his screen, watching you go downstairs.

You get downstairs and see that everyone is down here.

“Ah! Y/n! Goodmorning!” Charlie says with a smile.

“Morning, Charlie.” You say with a smile, waving.

“Good morning, dear!” Alastor says to you, while he’s sitting on a chair.

You look over to where he is. “Morning, Al!”

Vox’s eye twitches.

Angel and Husk are talking at the bar, and Niffty and Sir Pentious are talking. Well.. Niffty seems to be telling him something and he’s standing there in shock, looking terrified. Typical reaction for when Niffty is telling you something.

Vaggie is cleaning her spear in the lounge area, and Charlie is writing on a paper.

“Sooo, now that everyone’s here I have an announcement to make!” Charlie says, looking up from her paper. “Today.. We are doing group activities! Yay! Haha so, basically I had the great idea for all of us to go out on the town together and just spend time with one another. Doesn’t that sound fun?!” She says with excitement.

A day on the town. Honestly, that sounds nice. You’re bored out of your mind today so anything goes.

“Eehh.. I dunno. I had plans alrea-“ Angel starts but Charlie cuts him off.

“Oh come onnn! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Charlie says.

Everyone is silent so she takes that as a yes. “Alright! Great! Everyone meet here in an hour and off we go!”

You go upstairs to get dressed.

Vox listens intently to what Charlie says. A day on the town? He’s been racking his brain on how to talk to you in real life again. This may be just the thing! What if you two “accidentally” run into each other? Perfect. He notices that he’s not in the best physical state at the moment. He’s in sweat pants and a stained t-shirt. And he hasn’t showed in... A couple days. He has an hour to freshen up. He bolts out of the room to take a shower, brush his teeth, and put on his classic suit outfit.

You’re getting out of the shower and you pick out an outfit to wear. Fixing your appearance, you notice you left your laptop open again. Damn, you’ve got to get on closing that. It’ll lose its battery!

Vox steps out of the hot shower, looking at himself in the mirror. He winks at himself and goes to pick his suit outfit. After getting dressed and ready, he glances at the screen and sees you naked, about to get dressed.

“Fuck.” He says, eyeing you up and down. He feels he’s in a trance, which is ironic.

“All mine.” He whispers. Shaking his head quickly to gain composure, he sets off to go to the hotel. He will watch you guys from afar until you arrive somewhere where it’s likely where he’d be at too. Then, his mastermind plan will layout.

———————————————————————

You get downstairs and everyone is there, which is surprising. You’d expect at least Angel or Alastor to sneak off, not wanting to do this.

“Allriiggghht!! Let’s go.” Charlie says, walking to the entrance and opening the door for everyone.

“Where exactly are we going?” Angel says.

“Yeah, I’m not looking to walk no marathon.” Husk joins in.

“Wellll, I was thinking we’d just go to..” Charlie trails off. “Umm..”

“Charlie, do you even know where you’re taking us?” You say with a chuckle.

“Well…. Not yet. But! This isn’t about the destination. It’s about spending time together!” She says with a smile.

“I ssuppose you’re right.” Sir Pentious says.

Alastor’s ears twitch upwards and he says, “I have a marvelous idea! We could go to cannibal town! It’s truly a wonderful place. Remember, Charlie?” Alastor suggests.

“Hmm.. You know, that’s actually not a bad idea!” Charlie says.

Everyone gives them looks.

“Cannibal? As is.. Cannibal?” Sir Pentious says with shock.

“Ooohh..” Niffty laughs. “I’m SO excited!” She says, jumping up and down.

“Yeah! It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise.” Charlie says with a smile.

“Whatever you think is best, babe.” Vaggie says, holding onto Charlie’s arm.

“Cannibal town it is!” Charlie says, leading the group.

———————————————————————

Vox is overhearing the conversation. “Cannibal town? Are you fucking kidding me?” He whispers, walking a safe distance away from you guys. Even simply seeing you exist is driving him crazy. You’re so perfect. “Cannibal town it is then. The things we do for love.” He chuckles to himself.

The way you walk is so memorizing to him. Look at you. He feels electricity spark around him, knocking over a electric pole next to him, making a loud noise.

“Shit.” He says, glancing in front of him, seeing you all stop for a moment, about to look back.

He quickly looks to his left and jumps out of the way. He waits a few seconds and then peaks out, seeing you all keep walking forward.

He sighs and goes back to following you.

What he didn’t notice was that Alastor was no longer with the group, instead, he teleported himself behind Vox. He notices, of course he does. He smiles to himself at the fact that he now has the upper hand, he has something to now hold over his head.

Teleporting back to the group, he glances over to Charlie.

“My dear, there it is!” He points.

“Ahh! Guys, we are here!” She says.

You all look around in shock. It’s actually.. Really nice there. Nicer than any place you’ve seen in Hell since you arrived. Everyone seems very polite.

Angel goes off to flirt with people, Husk looks around for the nearest bar, Charlie and Vaggie take pictures together, Sir Pentious is looking around paranoid, and Niffty is.. Where’s Niffty? Oh well, she’ll show up sooner than later. And Alastor is chatting with a lady. You think her name is Rosie? You saw her on an overload poster the other day.

You see a water fountain and go to sit by it.

Vox looks around. He’s pleasantly surprised. This isn’t the kind of place he’d choose to go, but it’s still not as bad as he thought it would be. He thought it would just be people violently eating and killing each other.

He sees you sitting on a bench beside a fountain, and walks up from behind.

You’re feeling kind of thirsty so you get up to go find the nearest store. Hopefully they sell things other than human remains.

Vox takes this as his chance, he walks swiftly beside you and then bumps into you on “accident.”

You jump and look to your side.

Vox..?

“Oh shit sorry!” He chuckles, looking up at you.

“Oh you’re.. Y/n, right?” He says with a charming smile.

“Yeah.” You chuckle awkwardly.

“You come here often?” He asks.

“To cannibal town? No, haha. Me and some friends are just visiting.” You explain.

“Ahhh.. I see, I see.” He stares at you in admiration.

You can’t help but feel weird around him. You’re not sure why. He seems like a nice guy, but.. There’s just something about him.

“Well..” You say. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Mind if I join you?” He says with a smile. “Wouldn’t want anyone eating you or anything like that.” He laughs and starts walking with you, not waiting for an answer.

“Soo.. How’ve you been? Have you been enjoying your new laptop?” He asks you.

You can’t seem to find a store that would sell water so you just stand there, turning your head to Vox to make conversation.

“I’ve been pretty good! Bored, but good. And yeah actually, I’ve been using it a lot.” You say, smiling.

“Oh that’s good, that’s good.” He says, nodding.

His heart is beating out of his chest right now.

You try your best to put aside your feelings of uneasiness towards him. It’s probably nothing. He’s just a new face and you gotta get used to that! He didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just your brain being annoying.

Little did you know, you have every single right to feel uneasy.

“Have you enjoyed all the features?” He asks, wanting to know more about what your thoughts are on the laptop. But more or less, just wanting to hear your voice and make as much conversation as he can with you.

“Yeah! Though.. I’ve noticed something weird. Is it.. normal for the laptops to spark electricity?” You ask in question, remembering how whenever you went on it, you saw sparks aka Vox watching you.

Vox smiles and says, “Absolutely! That’s completely normal. We thought it would be a cool idea, you know? It’s completely harmless!” He says in a convincing tone.

You feel relived at that. “Ohh alright, good!” You smile.

Vox wants to ask you out on a date. He wants to just take you. He want you. All of you. He just doesn’t know how to approach this. It’s overwhelming for him.

“Vox?” You say, “What’re you doing here?” You ask in question, wondering what sort of business a powerful, popular man like himself was doing here.

“Hm?” He starts. “Oh! Right. I’m just here walking the streets. Browsing.” He answers with an awkward chuckle.

“Ohh, nice.” You ask, looking behind him to see Niffty chasing someone with an arm.

“Oh my- Will you excuse me, Vox? I have to go do something.” You say, stepping away from him.

He sparks and steps in front of you, blocking you.

“W-wait! Hold on. I wanted to ask you something.” He says with a smile.

You look at him with a raised brow.

“Uhh..” He says, shifting his feet and looking away and back at you, seemingly nervous.

“Haha..” He awkwardly scratches his neck and thinks over how exactly he wants to say this.

Just as he was about to talk and ask you to go out with him, Charlie steps in the way.

“Y/n! We were going to head back to the hotel now and do some more fuunn group exercises!” She said smiling.

She looks over to who you’re talking to and tilts her head.

“Hello! Who might you be?” She says smiling at him.

Vox stares at her, annoyed.

“This is Vox. He owns VoxTek and he’s one of the VVV’s.” You cut in.

“Oohhh well it’s SO nice to meet you, Mr. Vox.” She says.

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too. Me and Y/n were just-“ He mumbles but gets interrupted by Niffty running between his legs and accidentally hitting him with the arm she was waving around.

His eyes go red and electricity goes around him, showing that he’s mad. He’s had enough. This was supposed to be a swift move. He comes in, wipes you off your feet, you fall in love with him, and you’re his. But in his mind, all these fucking bitches keep interrupting his time with you. He’s had it.

He snaps and grabs your arm, pulling you away from everyone. Charlie just looks in question, but walks away when she notices Vaggie calling her over.

You’re shocked and confused. What is going on? You barely know Vox. You feel a spark as he grabs you, and you hiss out in pain.

“Y/n.” He says, looking at you. His eyes are manic wide and he’s smiling at you possessively.

You try to back away but he holds you firmly by his wrist.

“Just listen. Everything is okay. I was trying to ask you if you wanted to go on a date with me.” He explains calmly, despite his not very calming state.

You now feel better that you had an uneasy feeling about him. It was deserved.

“Uhh.. Yeah, I don’t know about that. I’m sorry.” You say hesitantly.

He stops. Letting go of your arm.

“What did you just say?”

He looks at you in shock, anger, and determination.

You back up and say, “No. I don’t want to go on a date with you, Vox. I’m sorry.”

You walk away, meeting Charlie and the rest of the family. You guys walk back to the hotel, leaving Vox there to spiral.

Vox stands there, frozen. Did you just..? Say no..? To him? The love of your life? What has gotten in your head? He’s in disbelief. He shakes his head, laughing.

“No. This isn’t right. Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll clear your head in no time.” He says with a smile, calming walking back to his headquarters.

———————————————————————

You’re back in you room, ready for bed. Yawning, you open your laptop to check your messages before you go to sleep.

Vox is smiling as he sends hypnotizing message through the screen. Trust him, love him, and feel sorry for how you treated him.

All of a sudden, you see sparks on the laptop again, but this time, you feel something.

Your head spins and your eyes go foggy for a second. All you can think about is how much you messed up by declining Vox’s offer today. How dumb can you be? Why would you do that?

You snap out of the trance and frown. A wave of regret and shame fills you. Vox of VoxTek, one of the most important people in Hell, the guy who gave you a free laptop, the charming man who asked you out on a date, when he could’ve asked anyone else but he asked you.. and you said no?!

You panic and begin to have anxiety. You have to apologize to him. In person.

Getting up, not even changing out of your pyjamas, you leave your room and go to walk over to the VVV tower to say sorry to Vox and see if it’s not too late to accept his offer.

All-while, Vox is sitting back smirking while watching you on his screens. See?! Now you have some sense talked into you. You just needed a little push. His lovely is on his way to see him, as it should’ve been. You just needed some reminding of how you really felt. Vox is excited to see you again. And this time, it won’t get interrupted.

You get to the VVV tower, entering the place. It’s pretty cool there. You look around and go to the reception desk.

There’s a young man there, you have the idea to ask him if you can speak to Vox.

“Hey um.. Am I able to see Vox? I have something to say to him.” You ask.

The man laughs at you and just stares.

“Oh, you’re serious?” He asks. “No can do! We can’t just let random people walk in and talk to him.” He says in a “are-you-dumb” way.

Suddenly, Vox enters from the elevator.

“Y/n! Hello, you.” He says with a charming smile, walking over to you.

“V-Vox! I just um.. I wanted to say something to you. If that’s okay..” You start.

He shushes you and tells you to wait while he brings you up to his room for more privacy.

As you two get to his room, you look around. It suits him. There’s a lot of screens and all the colours that match his usual outfits.

“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” He says smugly, knowing already.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted when you asked me out. I shouldn’t have said no.. I just.. I don’t know what came over me.” You say apologetically.

“Oh my dear, dear, Y/n. Thank you for your apology.” He says. “Do you have a different answer now?”

You feel a twist in your gut. Half of you is still saying no, but half of you is saying yes. You don’t know which one to lean into. It feels like your brain is confused and that you can’t even trust yourself.

Vox notices you thinking hard, so he helps you. Using his hypnotizing “power,” he puts sense into your brain.

Your head goes dizzy for a second and all comes clear to you. You don’t have to trust yourself. You can just trust him. The answer was staring you in your face all along.

“Y-yes! I do have a different answer. I’d say yes. I want to go out with you.” You say quickly.

Vox smiles.

“Oh course you do.” He whispers.