#pls help me with step by step instructions

[hyusun]

🐯 - Instructions Not Included - L.MK

Pairing: neighbor! mark × yn (university setting)

genre: soft fluff,, domestic chaos ??, friends-to-(maybe)-lovers word count : 3.1k ? warnings: cozy domesticity, soft chaos, excessive use of ikea furniture and that awkward falling in love with your neighbor energy vibe : you’ve known mark lee since freshman year, hallway nod than bestie. but when he moves into the apartment across the hall and drags you into a furniture-building result in muscle-aching mess, things start shifting. you start to wonder if this is just neighborly kindness, or something much more dangerous. like feelings.

a/n : this was supposed to be a short drabble… idk what this is honestly 😭 i just wanted them to build a shelf but now it’s a short fic with muscle pain and dramatic reaction to leg massage . this was inspired by my last-minute OCD arranging mania. i spent the whole saturday cleaning and rearranging my furniture like a sims character in real life, and now i’m left with sore muscles and regrets. anyway enjoy the delulu, i wrote this between muscle spasms and crying over cracked nails. also if u find a mark lee who builds furniture and massages your leg , pls tell him i’m free this weekend 😭 , enjoy the fic, stay hydrated, don’t trust IKEA screws. ok love u bye 💅🛠️🫶

You’d known Mark Lee since freshman year, not exactly best friends, but familiar in the way two tired students orbit the same academic hellscape. You shared a few electives, some tragically awkward group projects, and the occasional hallway nod that said, "We’re barely holding it together, huh?" Conversations between you never strayed far from the essentials: “Hey, when’s this due?” or “Are we even passing this class?” Just enough connection to remember his name, not enough to know his favorite coffee order.

So when you heard that he moved into the unit across the hall halfway through the semester, you didn’t expect fireworks or fate. At most, you predicted a few polite exchanges, maybe a borrowed screwdriver, maybe a smile when collecting mail at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, you were even looking forward to it. A little spark of curiosity never hurt anyone.

That spark turned into a full-blown emergency when Mark knocked on your door one fine Saturday morning. You had the day off, a rare treasure. The plan was simple: rot gloriously on your couch, binge the latest backstabbing k-drama, and maybe fall asleep with crumbs on your shirt. But the universe said, "Haha, no."

Because there he was, Mark Lee, standing at your door with panic in his eyes and desperation in his voice, looking less like your ex-classmate and more like Bob the Builder with a broken spirit. “Hi…” he greeted, voice tentative, eyes darting around like he was afraid you’d slam the door. “Uh, can you help me build my furniture? I asked the other guys but they’re either working or pretending to be. Jeno’s at practice, and Renjun said you’re good with… tools.” He gave you a sheepish smile, like he knew exactly how unconvincing he sounded.

Honestly, he looked like a lost puppy in a hardware store.

And you? Well, against your better judgment, and possibly your will to live, you sighed, stepped aside, and let chaos walk right in.

You regretted offering help the second you stepped inside his apartment.

Boxes were stacked like unstable Jenga towers. An unopened can of paint sat in the corner like a promise never kept. IKEA furniture parts were scattered across the floor, looking less like potential furniture and more like ancient ruins. And in the center of it all stood Mark, sweaty, overwhelmed, holding a screwdriver upside down as if preparing for battle, not a bookshelf.

Mark Lee was crouched in front of what was supposed to be a bookshelf, but currently looked more like a sad abstract art piece. He held a screwdriver, the wrong one, obviously, with the defeated look of someone who’d battled furniture and lost three times. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. 

“So I think I built this upside down… three times.” You blinked at the Frankenstein shelf and then at him. 

“Have you… read the manual?” you asked, already bracing for disappointment. 

Mark lifted the instruction sheet, still upside down, and offered a sheepish grin. 

“I did, but… apparently not well.” You let out a long, theatrical sigh. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” That short-circuited him instantly. 

He blinked, once, twice, like his internal system had glitched. 

“W-what?” he stammered. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, pushing past him with a roll of your eyes. 

“Move over. Let me fix it before this bookshelf becomes a safety hazard.”

You ended up spending the next six hours knee-deep in flat-pack chaos and mild existential dread. Between deciphering IKEA hieroglyphics, hammering rogue nails into place, and discovering that Mark couldn’t tell the difference between ivory and eggshell white, it became less of a building project and more of a bonding experience-slash-sitcom episode.

Somewhere between coats of paint, half of which mysteriously ended up in your hair, and Mark’s dramatic reading of the manual like it was Shakespeare, the awkward tension melted into laughter. Real laughter. The kind that left your stomach aching and your cheeks sore. The kind you hadn’t felt in a long time.

When the bookshelf finally stood upright, miraculously not leaning, or squeaking, Mark grinned and it almost knocked the breath out of you. His eyes lit up with the kind of boyish pride that should be illegal. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” he said, wiping sweat and possibly paint off his forehead. “No, seriously. I think I’d be sleeping on cardboard tonight if you didn’t show up.”

You leaned back against the wall, newly smudged with streaks of off-white and fingerprints, arms crossed and barely hiding your smile. “You still might be,” you replied, gesturing toward the mattress frame behind him. “Your bed’s still missing, like, three screws and possibly a soul.”

He laughed, full and unfiltered, the kind of laugh that crinkled his eyes and made your heart feel annoyingly warm. And then, just for a second, he looked at you. Really looked at you. Long enough for it to feel like time paused, just to make things weird for your heart.

“…You’re cool, Y/N,” he said softly, eyes lingering. “I’m really glad you live next door.”

Your heart did a full-blown Olympic backflip, tripped over itself, and then cartwheeled straight into locked territory.

You blamed it on the paint fumes. You had to. Anything else would’ve meant admitting the truth, That maybe, just maybe, Mark Lee was no longer just the guy from group projects. After helping Mark turn his apartment into a Pinterest board, the universe decided you hadn’t suffered enough. That very night, your manager called, desperate, pleading, and emotionally manipulative, to ask if you could cover a last-minute night shift. Someone bailed, and apparently you were the chosen sacrificial lamb. You should’ve said no. You really should’ve. But instead, you dragged your furniture-abused body into work, and by hour three, your muscles were screaming louder than your soul.

You should’ve known they’d come back to haunt you. The soreness had started like a whisper, tight calves here, a dull ache in your thighs there. But by the time you were walking home that morning, it had evolved into full-blown mutiny. Every step felt like a betrayal. Your hamstrings throbbed like they were mourning their own existence. Your calves pulsed with the rage of a hundred gym classes you never signed up for. And your lower back? Dead. Absolutely gone. Probably chilling in another dimension.

You limped through your front door, collapsed into a dramatic heap, and promised your legs you’d never lift another bookshelf for a man again.

Probably.

Maybe.

...Okay, if Mark asked nicely, maybe one more.

A few days after the hazardous diy olympics in Mark’s apartment, you found a post-it note stuck to your front door. It was scribbled in familiar messy handwriting:

“Movie night @ my place. 7PM. Popcorn provided. Presence required. :) —Mark”

Below it, in a different pen and suspiciously neater, someone had added:

“Renjun says bring snacks.”

His place now looked like something off a rental ad for “wholesome urban escape” walls freshly painted, furniture no longer a death trap, soft fairy lights casting a gentle glow over the living room, and enough throw pillows to suggest he had either excellent interior taste or a strong Pinterest addiction. 

No way this was Mark’s work.

You strongly suspected someone, Renjun, maybe had a hand in the decorating. That boy is known for his creative mind. Or one of his suspiciously stylish friends. Or maybe a girlfriend. Someone with a Pinterest board, taste, and enough rage to color-code the bookshelf. That thought alone made you did double, no triple thinking into accepting his invitation.

You had some hesitation at first, being in a room full of his friends? Socializing? On purpose? And what about his girlfriend? Is he single? He’s in a relationship? Would it be awkward if I go?  But the moment you saw Renjun’s name, you relaxed. You knew him from a shared elective class last semester. He was smart, sarcastic, and the kind of person who always seemed ten seconds away from either solving a physics equation or starting a petty argument for fun. Acquaintance? Yes. Safe zone? Definitely.

So you said yes.

And that’s how you ended up seated in a living room surrounded by the rest of Mark’s friends. One by one, you began mentally dissecting their characters  like in a sitcom you hadn’t signed up for but secretly loved.

Renjun was your safe bet, the kind of sarcastic genius with the face of an angel and the soul of a judgmental cat. Sharp-tongued, yes, but weirdly considerate too. The kind of guy who would absolutely roast you for using comic sans, then silently walk you home in the rain so you didn’t slip in your sneakers. You’d worked with him once in a group project. He carried the whole thing on his back while sipping bubble tea and side-eyeing everyone’s poorly aligned slides. Iconic, really.

Haechan, on the other hand… chaos incarnate. The moment you walked into Mark’s apartment, he stood up like a royal herald and declared at full volume, “may I present to you, her highness, neighbour yn ! welcome in!” You blinked. He winked. And just like that, you were trapped in the tornado that was created by Haechan. Loud, mischievous, and dangerously charming, he introduced himself with the confidence of a man who had never known shame and immediately told you Mark once cried during a dog food commercial. You didn’t know whether to laugh or leave. Probably both.

But still, under all the noise and teasing, you found yourself quietly thanking him. Because somehow, he made it easier to breathe. Easier not to feel like an outsider in a room full of inside jokes and history. You weren’t sure if it was the absurdity or the warmth underneath it, but whatever it was… it worked.

In the midst of Haechan chaos, there is Jeno, the popular university's main soccer player. He is quite funny, effortlessly polite, and always somehow holding a snack. He didn’t say much, but when he did, it was either a one-liner that made everyone wheeze or something incredibly practical like, “That candle’s about to catch the curtain.”

And next is Jaemin, He has a pretty face, prettier smile, and absolutely no shame. He was lounging on the armrest like it was a throne, judging everyone’s snack choices and occasionally complimenting your skin. He called you “bestie” five minutes after meeting you and offered to add you to his skincare group chat. You said yes. Obviously. His skin looked pampered, Period.

And then, of course, there was Mark.

The one who invited you. The one whose smile made you nervous. the one laughter is so infectious and charming, and somehow made you feel like this chaotic group of boys wasn’t so scary after all.

The boys had settled across the living room in chaotic harmony, like mismatched puzzle pieces that somehow still fit. The L-shaped couch groaned under the weight of bodies, snack bags on the coffee table , and energy louder than the TV itself. Jeno was already halfway through a bag of chips, lounging like a model off-duty, while Jaemin, legs perched dramatically on the armrest, sat like a decorative statue blessed with judgmental eyebrows and too much skincare knowledge.

Mark was on your right, lounging casually at the far end of the couch with a cushion tucked beneath one arm and a blanket draped around his waist like he lived in a Pinterest board. Meanwhile, Haechan sprawled across the floor in front of the coffee table, surrounded by popcorn crumbs and chaos. Renjun claimed the opposite end of the couch, locked in a heated debate about which movie to play, already calling the director “mid” before the title screen even loaded.

You, ever the guest but somehow not a stranger anymore, sat tucked into the lazy chair beside Mark. Your legs were curled slightly to the side, a burger-shaped plushie in your lap doubling as emotional support and leg buffer. You tried your best to look chill, calm and collected, like your spine wasn’t stiffening into an overly ripe pear and your hamstrings weren’t crying for mercy. But as the opening credits began to roll and the room dimmed into movie-mode, you shifted, just slightly, to stretch your legs into more comfortable position.

And that’s when it snap. A sharp, traitorous cramps shot up your calf like betrayal in muscle form. You hissed softly under your breath, the kind of pain that made you question every life decision that led to IKEA furniture and impromptu night shifts.

“Fuck.”

The word slipped out of you before you could catch it, half whisper, half prayer. A sharp sting pulsed up your calf like your muscles were filing a formal complaint.

Mark noticed. Of course he did. He just an arm away.

He leaned in, voice low, soft as velvet and warm as honey against your ear. “Legs still sore?”

Lucky for you, the others either didn’t notice your silent suffering… or mercifully spared you the embarrassment. Mark, however, noticed. Of course he did.

He chuckled softly, the sound brushing against your skin like warm static. Then, without warning, hesitation, or a shred of social protocol, he shifted closer. His hand slipped past the edge of the blanket, fingers brushing your calf like they’d done it before in a dream.

And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he gently lifted your sore leg onto his lap... and started massaging. Each movement was deliberate, his fingers pressing into tight knots of tension like he wasn’t just soothing a muscle, he was rewiring your nervous system from the outside in.

He moved slow and focused. Like he was trying to untangle knots in your muscles and your brain. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Like this was just something he did, massaging your sore muscles in the glow of fairy lights, while his friends argued about movie ratings in the background.

His hands were warm, steady. Firm but unhurried.

You froze at first contact.

Your body went stiff, your brain completely derailed, thoughts screeching into static. This wasn’t just kindness. This wasn’t normal. This was dangerous. This was how the main characters caught feelings and never recovered. You read enough novel to know this is not casual thing, it intimate.

You might’ve enjoyed it for a few blissful minutes, eyes half-lidded, breath caught somewhere between “ouch that hurt” and “that good?” Until, from the floor, Haechan’s voice cut through the moment like a sharp blade.

“ummm ?? Hello?? Is this legal??”

You flinched. Mark didn’t. Because of course he was too busy pretending this wasn’t turning into a public scandal.

Jeno’s head turned, eyes narrowing like he’d just detected the change in atmospheric pressure. Jaemin twisted around too, popcorn nearly flying. His expression morphed from entertained to scandalized in real time.

The room fell silent.

You could hear your existential crisis buzzing in the air like bad Wi-Fi. Lagging. Glitching. Dropping all your emotional signals at once.

The sound of crunching chips stopped. Even the background music from the TV faded into an awkward vacuum of judgment and stunned disbelief.

Four sets of eyes locked on you and Mark like you’d just committed a crime against bro code and public decency.

“Are we just gonna ignore the leg-on-lap situation?” Haechan asked, voice high and dramatic like he’d just walked in on a forbidden office affair.

Mark didn’t even blink. “Yeah,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “She helped me with everything. Her legs are sore.”

“Your hands,” Jeno deadpanned, one brow arched, “are on her inner thigh.”

“They are not!” Mark hissed defensively, ears flushing a telltale pink.

Haechan, ever the voice of calm chaos, gave a solemn nod. “They’re getting there, bro. Like. Real estate’s been claimed.”

You could’ve combusted. Or dissolved. Or slipped into the couch cushions and requested a new life. If someone opened the window, you were 90% sure you’d evaporate on the spot. But Mark, god bless his soft boy stubbornness, he didn’t stop. He just kept going, cheeks pink, jaw set with gentle determination.

“She helped me build my whole apartment,” he muttered, focused on his task. “I think this is… the least I can do.”

You almost cried.

Instead, you buried your face into the nearest pillow and let out a silent scream that could shatter glass.

Renjun, looking utterly over it, sighed like who had seen too much.. “Just get married already,” he muttered, before resume his attention to the movie like this wasn’t the most unhinged domestic tension he’d witnessed in weeks.

Mark finally pulled his hand away after you smacked his arm with a flustered little slap, cheeks burning. “I’m fine,” you lied, breathless. “Perfect, actually. Might go for a jog. Climb Everest. Who knows.”

He grinned, like he could see right through your nonsense, and gave your knee one last pat before tucking his hand sheepishly into the blanket again.

Your heart? that thing was still buffering. Stuck on loop. Replaying the moment Mark Lee touched your leg like he hadn’t just rewritten your entire nervous system with his bare hands.

The rest of the movie blurred past in a fog. Explosions on screen, popcorn rustling, the occasional Haechan commentary, none of it registered. Your focus was shot, derailed somewhere between Mark’s hands and your rapidly developing crush.

When the credits rolled and the room buzzed back to life, you stood, stretched with a quiet groan, and politely excused yourself. Early lecture in the morning, you explained. Responsible student things.

You said your goodbyes, Jaemin extracting a promise for a future café trip like a girl bestie with an itinerary, and stepped toward the door.

Mark was already there. Lingering, like he’d been waiting.

Hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, eyes flicking to yours, then away again.

He opened the door for you, but didn’t quite meet your gaze. You turned to thank him, for the invite, and the impromptu massage, but he beat you to it.

“Thank you for joining us tonight,” he said, voice a little softer now that it was just the two of you by the door. “And if, uh… if you’re free this weekend,” he added, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I was thinking of going to IKEA. I need a lamp. Or maybe like… adult supervision.”

You arched a brow, the corner of your mouth tugging up. “Let me guess, you want me to help build it?”

Mark’s smile was soft, lopsided, and dangerous in the way only shy boys with dimples could be.

“Maybe,” he said, eyes flicking up to yours. “Maybe I just… wanna hang out with you again.”

And just like that, your heart short-circuited again.

You didn’t know where this was going.

But you hoped it went somewhere warm, with less back pain, fewer cracked nails, and instruction manuals that made sense.

And if the universe was feeling generous, maybe even somewhere dangerously close to love.

thank you so much for taking the time to read it and I didn't have time to beta prof this so I’d love to hear your thoughts, so any feedback is welcome! - 🌻 📌 💭 checkout my other delulus in the masterlist

All works are copyrighted © HyuSun, 2025. Please do not repost, rewrite, or distribute without explicit permission.

[s1llyg0th]

HOW TO MAKE TRANSPARENT PNG

Calling all Gravity Falls AU! Triumvirate is playing a concert in a dimension near you! BYOB(ill) 😂

if you want a ticket, just send a transparent png of your AU characters doing what you think they'd be doing in a concert! 😎

audio: cheVelle Bad Guy by mac glocky

[colourofthetrap08]

why am I so fucking terrible at following instructions. like if somebody tells me that they want me to do something, I will need the EXACT steps on EXACTLY what they want me to do or I’ll go fucking insane bc if I get the tiniest thing wrong and it doesn’t go the way that someone EXACTLY wanted it to go then I feel like my entire life is ending. i get so stressed when somebody gives me vague instructions because I’m terrified of doing it wrong and if I ask they’re always like “you figure it out” like wdym “figure it out” i’m a people pleaser that cannot make decisions who is constantly overthinking shit I cannot just “figure it out”. somebody tell me what is wrong with me and why I’m so fucking triggered by vagueness

[thighsa]

Could u pls write a story where Karina goes to a massage parlor but the masseuse turns out to be a pervert fanboy who takes advantage of Rina’s body and starts groping and using her? Thank u, love ur work!

Request:

BEING MASSIVE IS WRONG

aespa Karina X Male Reader

Warning : Non Con Smut (please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

The neon lights of the city flickered outside the tinted windows of the sleek yellow taxi as it glided through the crowded streets. Inside, Karina, the stunning K-pop idol from Aespa, leaned back against the plush leather, her eyes fluttering closed with the gentle rhythm of the car's movement. The past weeks had been a whirlwind of concerts and tours, her slender body pushed to its limits. The quiet solace of the massage parlor she was heading to was the only thing keeping her spirits afloat. She had heard whispers of its reputation for being the ultimate retreat for celebrities seeking refuge from the prying eyes of the public.

As the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the unassuming building, Karina stepped out, her towering stiletto heels clicking on the sidewalk. She smoothed the tight, short black mini bodycon dress that hugged her figure like a glove. The cool evening breeze played with the fabric, hinting at the curves beneath. The dress was a stark contrast to her usually more modest stage costumes, but tonight was about shedding the layers of her public persona and indulging in some much-needed self-care.

Inside, the massage parlor was dimly lit, the scent of incense wafting through the air, creating a serene atmosphere. She was led to a private room and instructed to remove her clothes and wrap herself in the fluffy white towel provided. The masseuse would be with her shortly. She did as told, eager to feel the release of tension from her overworked muscles. The towel barely covered her voluminous assets, making her feel a bit self-conscious, but she reassured herself that this was all part of the professional service.

When the masseuse, a man in his early thirties, entered the room, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease. He had a greasy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and his lecherous gaze lingered on her exposed thighs a moment too long. Karina tried to push the discomfort aside, focusing on the promise of relief ahead. He began the massage with her back, his strong hands kneading the knots from her shoulders to her lower back, and she couldn't help but let out a contented sigh.

But as his hands ventured closer to the edge of the towel, the man's professional demeanor began to crack. His touch grew bolder, his breathing heavier. "Is everything okay?" Karina asked, her voice a mix of confusion and wariness. He mumbled something about ensuring a thorough massage and urged her to lie on her back. The room grew tense as he began to massage her calves, his eyes darting up to her chest every few moments.

Karina felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she watched him inch the towel higher up her legs. The material barely contained her thick thighs, and she knew that any more movement would expose her entirely. She was about to protest when his hand slipped, the towel dropping to reveal one of her massive boobs. The masseuse's eyes bulged, his pupils dilating with lust. "I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice thick with desire, but his apology rang hollow. His eyes were glued to her soft, round flesh, and she could see his hands tremble slightly.

"It's okay," she said, trying to keep her voice calm despite the alarm bells ringing in her head. She reached for the towel, but he was quicker. "Let me," he said, his voice low and hungry. Before she could react, his hands were on her, cupping her breast, weighing it in his palms like it was a precious jewel. She gasped, the shock of his touch sending a bolt of electricity through her body. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a sickening blend of admiration and entitlement.

Karina's eyes widened in horror as she realized she was at the mercy of this perverted fan. She was about to scream when his hand clamped over her mouth. "Shh," he whispered, his eyes never leaving her terrified gaze. "I won't hurt you, I just want to enjoy the real Karina." He leaned in closer, his hot breath tickling her ear. "You know you like it," he hissed, his other hand squeezing her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Karina struggled against him, trying to push his hand away. But he was too strong, his grip tightening as he chuckled at her futile efforts. He began to slap her breasts, the sound echoing through the soundproof room. Each smack sent waves of pain and humiliation through her body, making her feel like a helpless doll in his perverted game. She felt his other hand slide down to her crotch, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her panties. "Please," she whimpered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

The masseuse leaned in closer, his breath hot and moist against her cheek. "You're so popular, aren't you?" he murmured, his hand squeezing her breast harder. "All those fans, and now you're all mine." He pinched her nipple sharply, eliciting a muffled scream from her. "You're going to give me what I want, and you're going to like it." His hand slid down to her stomach, his fingertips dancing dangerously close to the elastic band of her underwear.

Karina's thoughts raced. She had to get out of this situation. But how? She was naked, vulnerable, and trapped in a room with a man who had no intention of letting her go. Her mind reeled with the potential consequences of her decision to come here alone. "Please," she begged again, her voice muffled by his hand. "I'll do anything, just stop."

The man's grin grew wider, his eyes dark with excitement. "Oh, I know you will," he said, his voice thick with lust. He released her mouth and slithered his hand up to her neck, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "But first, I want a little show." He pushed her onto her back and straddled her, his weight pinning her to the massage table.

"Take off the towel," he ordered, his eyes glinting with anticipation. Karina felt a wave of nausea wash over her, but she knew she had to play along if she wanted to escape unscathed. She took a deep breath and slowly lifted the towel, revealing her naked body to his greedy gaze.

The masseuse's eyes roamed over her, drinking in every inch of her exposed skin. He took a moment to appreciate the view before leaning in to kiss her neck. His stubble scraped against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with pleasure. "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Karina felt her stomach churn as his hands moved to her breasts again, his palms rough against her sensitive flesh. He began to knead them, his thumbs circling her nipples, pulling and pinching until they stood erect. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, the pain a stark reminder of her helplessness. "Let's make this interesting," he said, his tone more a statement than a question.

He slid off the massage table, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuckled his pants. Karina's eyes grew wide with horror as she saw his erection spring free, thick and veiny. "You're going to make me feel good," he told her, stroking himself slowly. "And I'm going to enjoy every second of it." He climbed back onto the table, positioning himself so that his cock was hovering just above her chest.

"Take it," he instructed, his voice gruff and demanding. "Show me how much you love your fans." Karina felt a tear roll down her cheek as she reached up with trembling hands. She wrapped them around his shaft, her grip tentative at first, then tightened as she began to move them up and down. The masseuse groaned with pleasure, his hips bucking slightly with each stroke. She kept her eyes on his, trying to find some semblance of humanity in the monster that stood before her.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Just like that." His hands moved to her breasts again, his thumbs flicking her nipples in time with the rhythm of her movements. She could feel his cock growing harder in her grasp, and she knew what was coming next. "Look at me," he ordered, his eyes boring into hers. She did, unable to look away even as his grip on her breasts grew rougher, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

"Now, squeeze them together," he instructed, his breath coming in ragged pants. Karina's cheeks flushed with humiliation as she obeyed, her massive breasts forming a perfect cushion for his erection. The man groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he began to fuck her tits. The sound of his cock smacking against her chest filled the room, each impact sending a jolt of pain and degradation through her body.

"You're so good at this," he said, his voice strained. "Just like you're meant to be." His hands slammed down on her breasts, pushing them closer together, his hips bucking faster. She felt his cock swell even more, his excitement palpable. Karina's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare, but her body was frozen with fear.

"I'm going to cum," he panted, his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing between her cleavage. She could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his face contorting with lust. "Look how much you turn me on." His voice grew louder, his movements more erratic. She knew she couldn't take much more of this.

But before she could formulate a plan, the inevitable happened. With a final grunt, he erupted, his hot cum spurting onto her face and chest, some of it even reaching her mouth. Karina's eyes watered from the sheer violation, her mind reeling as she tasted the salty bitterness on her tongue. The masseuse stared down at her, a twisted expression of satisfaction on his face.

"Look," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. He leaned closer, pointing to the corner of the room where a small, unassuming camera blinked back at her. "You're a star, aren't you?" His finger traced the path of the semen down her neck to her breast. "But now, you're my little secret." He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "Lick it off," he ordered, his hand gripping her chin to force her to look at the CCTV. "Show me how much you enjoyed it."

The room spun around Karina, her stomach lurching at the thought of her ordeal being recorded for his sick pleasure. But she knew she had to play along, to survive this twisted game. With a trembling hand, she reached up and swiped a finger through the sticky mess, bringing it to her mouth. Her tongue darted out, tasting the saltiness of his release. She forced herself to keep her eyes open, to look into the cold, unblinking eye of the camera as she did as he said.

The masseuse chuckled, his grip on her chin tightening. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice dripping with malice. "Now, let's make a deal." He slid off the table, his erection slowly subsiding. "You come back here, let me do this again, and I won't show anyone. It'll just be our little secret."

Karina's heart pounded in her chest as she stared at him, her mind racing. She couldn't let this become a regular occurrence. "I-I need to get cleaned up," she managed to say, her voice shaking.

The masseuse nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Take your time," he said, his eyes lingering on her naked form before he turned and left the room. Karina's body felt like it was on fire with disgust as she quickly grabbed the towel and wrapped it around her, the fabric sticking slightly to the cum that had splattered on her skin. She rushed to the shower, the hot water scalding her as she scrubbed herself raw, trying to rid herself of the filth.

Her mind was in a daze as she stepped out, her body trembling from the trauma. She threw on her clothes, not bothering to dry off completely, and made her way to the reception area. The masseuse was nowhere to be seen, but she could feel his eyes on her as she hastily gathered her things. The receptionist, oblivious to the horror that had unfolded, handed her a business card with a smile. "Thank you for coming," she said cheerfully. "We hope to see you again soon."

The words echoed in Karina's ears like a taunt as she rushed into the cool night air. She could still feel the stickiness on her skin, the memory of his touch burned into her flesh like a brand. She had to get out of here, to put as much distance as possible between herself and this hellish place.

Her hand trembled as she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. The screen was lit up with a new message notification, and she felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She knew what it was before she even clicked on it. It was a video, the thumbnail showing a grainy image of herself, sprawled on the massage table. The text read, "Our little secret, Karina. Remember our deal."

Her heart racing, she played the video. The quality was terrible, the angle obviously from the hidden camera in the corner, but there was no mistaking the scene. The masseuse's grinning face was plastered across her screen, his body moving rhythmically above hers. The sounds of his grunts and her muffled protests filled her ears, making her want to retch. She watched in horror as the video played out, her own face contorted in a mix of fear and disgust, her hands wrapped around his cock, her breasts bouncing with each sickening thrust.

The video ended abruptly, leaving her staring at the black screen. She threw her phone into her bag as if it had burned her, her eyes darting around the deserted street. Panic began to set in, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. She had to get home, had to erase the memory of this night.

The taxi ride was a blur, the city lights streaming by like a twisted kaleidoscope. She couldn't stop the tears from falling, mixing with the cum still drying on her face. Her body was a battleground, each nerve ending singing with the memory of his touch. She gave the driver her address, her voice barely audible, and slumped back into the seat, willing the journey to be over.

THE END

[bloodstainedsapphic]

lyss. lyssbug. i am on my hands and knees begging for you to write reader HARDCORE teasing ellie and getting poor baby so worked up...only to not give her what she wants. the greedy little hip thrust when she chases r's hand..her wetness seeping through her boxers OH I AM UNQELLLSLSLSLSLKWKWN please and thank you i owe you my life 💚

omg hiii plubug. i can feel the feralism pls 🫡 my take on flustering extreme!nerdy perv ellie.. hardly edited. you're welcome!

"can.. can you repeat that question? sorry-"

she wasn't quite getting it.

you had re-explained the same section for the millionth time to ellie williams, the nerdy, socially-stilted girl who'd come into your apartment this afternoon to try and make sense of the coursework from your upper-level sociology seminar.

for a girl so bright, it was like she'd short-circuited the second she stepped through your doorway. you had no clue what caused it.

not that she was much of a smooth talker any other time. in class or when you passed her in the common areas, she was all stammered, bashful greetings and dropped pens, making constant blunders by knocking over her water bottles or running straight into inanimate objects—you'd caught her apologizing to them like they had feelings. ellie’s usual stuttering had escalated into full-on, barely coherent blabbering the second the two of you sat down on your couch—shoulders brushing—going through the reading line by line. something about the set scene, the proximity, the way your voice dropped an octave when reading... had launched her into an entirely unprecedented level of fluster.

her thick-rimmed glasses slipped to the tip of her button nose, her rosy lips slightly parted. ellie's deep green eyes were unsubtly directed at your lips instead of the page, clearly entranced by something other than sociological intersections.

it wasn't the first time you caught her zoning out like that. you weren't oblivious. ellie was trying so hard to suppress whatever little crush had wormed its way into her chest, but she was terrible at hiding it.

and she was absolutely adorable, sat there in her cinematically dorkish spectacles. 

some of this fell on you, so keen to her antics to begin with. the loserishness definitely had its appeal… but there was more to her than meets the eye. you’d snuck a peek of a tatted arm under her rolled-up hoodie, her fit figure, a cute, firm butt. you could take a bite out of her.

you figured it wasn't entirely fair to let it slide without teasing her a little.

"what… would you say it means when these two groups culturally intersect?" you asked, voice soft, coaxing her back to the present.

ellie blinked, slow and dazed. she hadn't heard a word.

"ellie, are you listening?" you asked, though the answer was obvious. "you're off in space…"

that snapped her out of it. like a whip crack. she straightened her posture, eyes darting to yours with a flicker of panic like she was trying to figure out just how much you'd noticed of her wandering attention. 

without thinking, you reached up and gently pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"there. that might help your sight," you said with a pleased little hmph.

ellie shifted on the couch, muttering, "right… erm, thanks…"

"alright, now, eyes on the book," you instructed, mock-stern, pointing to her face and guiding it back toward the page.

for a while, things went peacefully. ellie seemed to settle, at least for a stretch, finally receptive to your guidance. this subject came easily to you, and she kept reminding you of that.

"you're so good at this. i really appreciate you helping me," she'd said earlier. and then again. and again.

"thank you, els," you'd replied each time, the nonstop doting giving you a slightly inflated ego.

but eventually, the silence stretched on once more. no questions. no reaction. you leaned forward to point out a new concept—

—and sure enough, she wasn't looking at the book.

you sighed and looked up, catching her once again mid-stare. she really couldn’t help her urges, could she? this time, however, it was with a heavy focus on your top, the curves of your cleavage visible with how the scoop neck dipped slightly. 

how lewd of her, you thought. was the ellie williams actually a closeted horn-dog? the idea of it..didn't actually surprise you at all. it tended to be the shyest ones who harbored the raunchiest, ineffable perversions. 

"…ellie," you drawled, voice half-teasing, half-warning. "do you need something?"

she jolted upright, clearly trying to play it off, shaking her head profusely and turning to face you a bit more.

"s-sorry, i really don't mean to—"

you brought your finger to her lips before she could spiral into apologies.

"shush," you said, gentle. "ellie… i know what you're doing."

ellie’s amber freckles stood out sharply as her face flushed crimson, naturally full brows raised in anxious anticipation. she didn't want to assume what you meant, but her guilty expression gave her away.

"what?" she played dense. "it's just hard for me to get all of this. you're so patient, thank you—"

"no, no," you cut her off again. your hand slid up her arm, resting on her bicep, fingers curling slightly. a tender pressure. tacit reassurance.

ellie gulped.

"do you need something else, maybe?" you added, eyes not once leaving her. "a… motivator?"

you let the question hang there, teasing, open-ended—flirting with the girl who was clearly, hopelessly pining.

and yeah, you were picking up what she was putting down. you just knew she'd never be the one to say it first. 

you weren't even this bold typically. finding a girl far more timid than you seemed to embolden you in a way you'd never imagined for yourself. 

"ellie..can you lay back for me?" you continued, voice lowering into dulcet danger. your aura dripped with a flirtatious, syrupy, tempestuous sweetness, yet still giving her an out if she so needed.

but ellie, of course, obliged. there was no way in hell she’d say no to anything you asked of her. you said to jump? she’d ask how high. so she shuffled backward—pressing against the ragged cushions, back to the rickety armrest. she looked at you, silently questioning your intent.

you found yourself slowly tracing your fingertips against her jeans, studying how the old, relaxed denim hugged her body. the fit was slightly loose, which worked in your favor. 

"i've noticed your focus.. isn't where it should be," your pointer fingers mimicking a walk up her leg. "if we're going to get you a passing grade, i need your 110% effort."

in ellie’s mind, she could hardly comprehend what was happening—or what was about to go down. she’d been yearning for this moment, crushing on you for longer than anyone would regard as normal. really, the chance to come over and study had in itself felt like hitting the jackpot. getting to be this close to you, regardless of the reason, surpassed her wildest dreams. but now, your hand was working its way up her leg, and ellie found herself utterly awestruck at the fact. all she could do now was ditsily nod that she wanted you to keep going, more than anything, and so you did.

and then- fuck, she remembered one detail that could potentially derail your whole plan—she was wearing fucking dinosaur-printed boxers. 

oh, she was so embarrassed. her hand shot up to try and intercept your movements, a feeble attempt to stop what now felt like an impending disaster, but you swatted her fingers away with ease. a silent reprimand.  

you reached the buttons of her pants, pausing on them to look up with one more tentative check for consent. you caught a glimpse of trepidation in ellie’s eyes- a pitifully needy expression that gave you the confidence to pop the button open with a swift, single tug.

with the newfound freedom, you slid her jeans down, lifting her hips slightly. you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable pattern on her boxers. a teensy smirk came over your lips, but you kept your mouth shut. ellie saw your reaction, momentarily dying inside, but ultimately resigned to let this be the price to pay for having your hands on her. she’d simply accept that she’d be haunted by this moment for the next twenty years.

you trailed your fingers along the fabric first, glissading down her hips, pelvis, finally grazing her mound over her boxers. a wet patch had already formed, much to ellie's chagrin but to your delight. 

"needy, huh? i see why you need my help, can't let you go on like this huh.." you teased, ever so slightly caressing. ellie could feel her pussy throbbing through her boxers, just aching for direct contact before she flooded through to your fingers. you were more in tune than she gave you credit for; you found it almost precious, her sheer desperation for your titillations and sudden lavished attention. you were her aphrodisiac.

you, admittedly, got a bit worked up, feeling your own pussy pulse with every breathless whimper escaping ellie's lips, the moistness you felt through her fabric-covered cunt. you, worked up to the edge of her boxers again, tantalizingly dragging your fingers along the hem, feeling the tickle of her happy trail. you softly exhaled when ellie bucked up, so preemptive. poor girl. the situation was clearly dire, the way her mouth kept parting and her eyes teared up with such frenzied lust and you hadn't even made it down yet. this was way too fun. your coy smirk grew ear to ear as you finally snaked your hand inside her boxers, descending her trimmed auburn bush. 

ellie let out quivered fluxes of breath when your palmed her sopping heat, finally teasing her silken folds, middle and index fingers spreading her slippery lips to feel how aroused she was. ellie’s stomach was already fluttering, waves of excitement building. 

you didn’t let on that you were actively resisting the urge to fingerfuck her into oblivion. you oh-so-wished you could break this dorky girl, teach her things about your body and you learn every button to press on hers to melt her underneath you. but for now, you simply wanted to relish in her bucking hips and how she was trying to greedily get herself off on your hand. your wetted thumb pressed on her twitchy clit, moving in small, gentle circles around the clothed area, eliciting the most pitiful wail from ellie yet, a full body squirm paired with it. 

"fuck..this is what you really needed wasn't it, ellie?" you ask her, a slight mocking laugh following your words. "you didn’t want to study..came over here just to stare at my tits, hmm?" you taunt, the humiliated-yet-lustful look in ellie's eyes and the tide of wetness on your fingers answer enough. 

"oh god…" she choked in a gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you kept trailing her slit, not quite dipping inside her aching center. 

ellie truly was a sight for sore eyes like this, toned legs spread wide like a whore across your couch, splayed as much as she possibly could in her only half-shrugged-off jeans. her glasses had slid down to the tip of her nose again from how her head bobbled with each of your teasing strokes. face roseated and glowing, auburnish strands tugged from her already-messed-up bun. the nerd had become your personal porn star, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

with a surge of confidence, your other hand grips ellie's chin, hoisting her face to meet yours as you sultrily mutter your next instruction. 

“answer me. you wanna be my pretty little slut?" you asked, invoking a sly smile to ease her into the idea. 

"yes, yes, please," she begs without hesitation, stumbling over her own words. you comfortingly pat her cheek, then lowering your hand to firmly cup and fondle her clothed breast.

finally giving ellie what she so needed, you pushed your fingers into her cunt, the wet tightness of it pulling an involuntary moan from you that came in sync with hers.

"you feel so fucking good, baby… all worked up for me…are you even gonna last?" ellie, in a blissful haze, overwrought with pleasure, couldn’t even sense your words. she just kept doing what a neglected, horndog ellie knew best, trying to rhythmically grind herself into your hand as you sunk your digits further inside, curling deep within to hear her mewls of pleasure. 

“s’all for me..god, you’re gorgeous-“ you adopted a steady pace, spreading your fingers inside her spasming walls, to get her whole body trembling and roaring towards an impending release.

”ahh, aahh, fuck," she rambled dumbly, glasses clouded against her face thanks to hot breaths. her head was fully thrown back, a fist white-knuckling a cushion for dear life. what fucking luck. this perfect moment would fuel her fantasies for years to come. 

maybe perfect, but still incomplete. perhaps she’d gotten her hopes up too soon. 

listening to her jumbled words and sensing her getting close, a most wicked idea entered your mind. 

“so easy.. gonna cum on my fingers so fast yeah? just needed to be treated like a whore, yeah? oh…fuck-” you sucked air through your teeth while continually pumping your fingers in her at a languid, torturous pace. your condescension made ellie’s cunt flood, coating your hand and dribbling down her thigh. you salivated over how her walls clenched around your digits with every tease.  the deliciously obscene squelching sounds of ellie’s pussy getting wrecked on your fingers filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans in torrid harmony.

"so close aren't you, pretty girl?" you ask, increasing the vigor and depth of your pumps, causing ellie's back to arch up into your knuckles, angling as far as she could, trying to suck your fingers in. 

"yes- yes- yes-" she spewed, climax coiling tight, ready to unfurl. 

but you felt mean. 

your wrinkled fingers eased up, pulling from her soaked cunt, followed by a trail of dripping, creamy beads. ellie humped the air, not instantly registering the loss of your fingers. the building pressure inside her started to wane, glossy eyes gradually fluttering back open. ellie whinged as she realized what you had done, the extent of your cruelty settling in. ellie responded by lurching forward, head slumped against your shoulder without shame, whimpering in protest off your actions. she was hopelessly pliant, completely lost in her desire to finish on your fingers. you tittered, rubbing a tender hand on her back. “tsk, tsk… so mean of me, i know..” you kissed her hair. it was all too much. you wanted to coo reassurances, leave her hanging, but her restless, fucked-out state caused a twist in your stomach. to be desired so fervidly made your own thirst insatiable. 

betraying your own willpower, your hand gradually reached her dripped-through boxers again, pressing a feather-light swirl on her swollen bud triggering ellie to mindlessly rut, straining herself to roll against your hand.

you giggled in how sensitive she was to your attention. “you just look so gorgeous on edge like that.. how could i possibly let you cum?”

it was so beautifully pathetic. the captivating way the sheepish, nerdy ellie you knew had fallen from grace and crumbled under your every whim.. you could keep toying with her forever. but you were capable of bargaining, a charitable vixen.

“how about this..” gingerly dragging your hand away once more, settling purchased on ellie’s waist to keep her upright and ensure she heard you.

“convince you me you understood a lick of your coursework, i’ll let you cum.. you help me cum... sound good sweetheart?”

you’d never seen such a quick learner as after you motivated ellie with a prize such as that. maybe you’d hold up your end of the deal. maybe. 

[sneeblbop]

Sneeb's commission info :3

Its getting colder outside, which means its gonna be wet as fuck. My shoes are pretty worn out (the bottom of the insides are completely gone), and my boots are way too small. I'm not in a good place to afford new ones right now so !!@

Update: we found black mold in our house and need to move out asap!! anything helps pls considering commissioning mee

(instructions will be all the way on the bottom, but read through the post before commissioning pls ^_^)

STATUS: OPEN

*Prices are subject to change depending on complexity/amount of characters, and i have the right to decline anything i don't want to draw ^_^

WILL do -

Furry/anthro

Robots/mecha (if it's too complex i may decline)

Humans

Animals

fanart/ocs/ships

Minorly suggestive stuff

WONT do -

Proship (pedo, zoo, incest, etc)

Nsfw / Fetish

Complex backgrounds

Hate symbols

Real people

Gore

GENERAL RULES/INFO:

Payment is done upfront, on kofi. This means you'll have to pay me before you get the artwork. (Make sure to fill out this form before you pay!! If you pay me without asking and i turn you down that is not my fault!)

I don't have the flexibility for any concrete time limit, so time may vary.

Additional characters are priced the same as the base price.

Corrections are allowed, the price may vary depending how big of a change you want. 

Backgrounds will be a flat color of your choice (If you want smth different, feel free to ask, but i might not be able to).

Some examples of what you can get!!: (and these r just drawings for fun, so comms will be more quality):

In case you're like me an have a hard time/anxiety with instructions, heres a step by step process on how this will work.

You will either send me an ask, or comment on this post to notify me that you are interested in commissioning me. This step is important.

After doing this, you will fill out this form.

The form will tell you what to tell me so that i can start on your commission.

Once i read through your form and determine whether or not i want to take this commission, i will tell you by responding to your ask/comment. (edit: im shadowbanned atm bc i changed my email, so ill let you know if i accepted your comm via email so you get a notif!!)

Once you know that ive actually accepted this, then you can pay me.

Once i get your payment, i will start drawing as soon as i get the time. This time can vary because i am still in school!

Once i am done, i will send the finished commission to you via email/account that you have provided for me in the form.

If you need any corrections, you can send me an ask/comment and ill dm you to get it figured out. (prices may vary depending on how big of a change you want).

Hope this helps !! :3

[harryspet]

well kept [3] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far :)

word count: 4.5k

In which it's your first day working from home with Rafe and you have a new lesson to learn.

well kept masterlist

The Cameron residence was fifteen minutes outside of downtown Charlotte and situated in a large neighborhood where hills and huge oak trees hid all the houses. You didn’t really see his house, only what you could tell was large pond, until the driver was at the end of the mile-long driveway.  When you did, you felt woefully underdressed. Assuming that being inside all day meant you could opt for something casual, you’d chosen a cream knit dress. 

Following Rafe’s instructions, you sent him photos of each outfit you tried on, but he hadn’t told you which ones you could return. It was another blow to your confidence. You began to doubt whether he’d even been serious, but the fear that he might mention it the next day kept you from taking any chances.

Stepping out of the black Escalade, your eyes widened as you took in the architectural masterpiece before you. The house was a striking blend of traditional and modern styles, with a light-colored exterior contrasted by dark shutters framing the windows. A stone chimney rose from the roof, and the three-car garage with wooden doors added a rustic touch.

After your car drove away, a tall and impeccably dressed staff member named Anthony guided you up the stone-paved driveway. From your cheat sheet, you recalled that he was the House Manager. Rafe required a full team: Anthony, two housekeepers, a private chef, a driver, a gardener, and now you—his personal assistant. The inside of the house was as intimidating as the exterior. The expansive foyer featured high ceilings and a grand staircase that curved up to the second floor. To the left, you caught a glimpse of the formal dining room. Each room you passed was more impressive than the last. Anthony informed you that there were six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

“I don’t usually work on Fridays but Mr. Cameron wanted me to give you a tour of the house and show you the ropes of house management. It’ll be important for you to be able to oversee the staff when I’m absent and understand the scheduling.”

Once again, it was all too much to take in. Today was your fifth day working for Rafe, and you’d barely survived until now. 

“I want to clarify that what happened yesterday stays between us. That includes Eleanor. Okay?”

That was all he said about his outburst. There was no apology for groping you, for pinning you down on his office couch, or for taking your virginity. If you were to tell the story, you’d have to mention how your body had betrayed you—not once, but twice. But you had said no. You didn’t want to use the word that described what happened to you. You didn’t want to think about it at all.

And it didn’t happen again—not over the next three days. He continued to be harsh, forcing you to apologize for every small mistake, even those you weren’t aware of.

As you followed Anthony through the expansive kitchen, you couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and sophistication. The kitchen was a chef's dream, with gleaming marble countertops that seemed to stretch endlessly, state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances, and custom cabinetry in a rich, dark wood finish. An oversized island dominated the center of the room.

At the far end of the kitchen, massive glass-paneled doors stood, offering a glimpse of the world beyond. The porch was furnished with elegant wicker seating with plush cushions. The space was perfect for elegant parties, with enough room to accommodate at least a dozen guests.

Beyond the porch was a stunning infinity pool stretched out towards the horizon. As you walked closer, to the right, you took notice of a garden. You spotted the gardener, Tyler, who Anthony had mentioned earlier. In simple clothes, the young man blended easily into the scenery. 

“This is where Mr. Cameron will typically entertain his guests,” Anthony said, 

The beauty of the outdoor space was undeniable, but so was the control that permeated every aspect of it. You wondered what hand Rafe played in how spotless it looked. You could almost picture him, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing with a harsh intensity, if even the smallest detail were out of place. It was easy to imagine him demanding that every leaf, every petal, every stone be exactly where it belonged. 

Did his staff ever make mistakes? Did he make them beg him forgiveness like he did with you? 

“Shall I show you the study? It’s approaching seven-thirty.”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He was kind but part of you didn’t want him to hear your voice shake or your face contort into an uncomfortable position as you struggled to get your words out. 

There would be enough struggling today, you knew that. 

Surprisingly, Rafe’s home office was more quaint than you expected. Dark wood panneling decorated the walls as well as floor-to-celing bookshelves. As you made your way around the room, you took note of the picture frames containing images of what you believed to be his family. Here, it seemed he had a heart. The four of them stood on a dock, sun shining down, and his arms were wrapped a young girl with dark brown hair. His smile was genuine and there was darkness lingering in the blues of his eyes. 

Other than the bookshelves, the room only contained his desk, a set of leather couches and a coffee table. The smaller room still managed to exude sophistication but it was far less imposing than you expected. 

The room almost felt intimate as sunlight trickled in through light colored curtains. You were standing behind his desk, glancing out his office window which faced towards the nearby pond. Beside it, sat a gazebo, although you couldn’t imagine Rafe enjoying it. You wondered if he lived here alone as you saw no traces of the other three people in his family photo. 

“Boo,” You yelped as you heard Rafe’s deep voice. 

You placed a hand over your beating heart as you looked toward where he stood in the doorway. Having been deep in thought, you hadn’t heard the door opened. He knew that much which explained the amused look in his eye.  

Everything flooded back at the sight of him. The air had already left your lungs. You felt his body pressing down on yours, warm breath against your ears, and that pain between your legs. 

The door clicked shut, making you flinch.

“Good morning,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

It hit you then, you hadn’t greeted him like you were supposed to.

You were taken aback by his appearance. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain navy t-shirt, a stark contrast to your heels and carefully applied makeup. You weren’t sure why you were expected to dress up, especially when he looked so casual.

“G-Good morning, Sir,” You crossed the room, his eyes locked on yours. You remembered where he liked you, near the door, ready to greet him and present yourself to him. You hated how your voice always betrayed you, how weak it made you sound. Your only saving grace was that you’d already memorized his schedule for the day, having spent the entire commute looking at your laptop. You recited it to him, including the midday Zoom call he had with Kelce and Topper.

Topper, you had learned, was Eleanor’s husband. Rafe hadn’t ever touched her but the way Eleanor always answered your questions with vague responses made you suspect that her relationship with Topper mirrored your own with Rafe. She hadn’t warned you but now you were suspecting that was because Rafe seemed to always get what he wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process.

You froze the moment his hand reached out to touch you. His fingers curled around your side, hovering just above your stomach but dangerously close to your breasts. His grip was surprisingly gentle as his thumb grazed over the fabric of your dress. You stiffened as his other hand mirrored the first, sliding across to the opposite side of your body. “Eleanor picked this,” he murmured, his brows knitting together as his gaze slowly traveled down your figure. A jolt shot through you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a wave of panic coursing through you.

“Y-You don’t like it?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He clicked his tongue, “Turn around for me.”

You did as he said, “Doesn’t do enough for your figure,” Your heart panged in your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of your own shape, “Are you wearing the panties I sent you?”

All you could do was nod. Rafe never commanded you to wear the panties everyday to work but you didn’t risk it. Luckily, they were all comfortable despite the lace and cheekiness. 

“Pull up your dress,” He said next. 

You’d spent the last three days in a fog, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand why your body betrayed you. When you were younger, you always asked the universe why you couldn’t speak like the way all your friends at school did. Now you asked the universe why Rafe’s voice made you want to clench your thighs together. Why you had felt empty ever since he’d finished inside of you. Why you wanted to try again, to experience that intimacy again without so much fear. Your life was so simple before but now it felt like it was too late to turn back. 

Your thoughts were too jumbled. Rafe cleared his throat and you realized you were just staring back, “I’m not gonna fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Please-”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me ask again.”

You squared your shoulders. “I’m nnn-nn-not comfortable—”

“Just do it.”

You reached down to the edges of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric to your waist. It was nothing he hadn’t already seen and yet you were shaking, “Turn around. Face the other way.” Like a robot, you obeyed. You’d chosen a light pink color today. 

“Good,” You felt him against you. He pulled your hair back over your shoulder and leaned down against your ear, “Maybe I should make you walk around naked while you’re here, hmm?”

You bit down on your lip, wanting to contain the protest that was about to leave your mouth. You wanted to lean into his touch, to embrace the comfort that would accompany the torture. He brushed past you just as you tilted your head back, “Go make me a coffee,” He commanded. 

He made his way behind his desk and you reached down to move your dress, “Did I say to pull your dress down?”

“N-No, Sir,” You moved your hands quickly to your sides.

“I could make you walk around like that, couldn’t I?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

He tilted his head and you realized you needed to answer. You gave him a painful look. You could say no but what would it cost you, “I . . . I don’t know,” He wasn’t satisfied by your answer, clearly. It was torture to force the words out, “Y-Yes.”

“Right answer,” He said, “Pull down your dress, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that despite that you upgraded to a salaried job, you were still making coffee for the rich and spoiled. The opulent kitchen had an even fancier coffee machine than his office. Your movements as you prepared his steaming mug of coffee were precise despite the turmoil in your mind. 

Searching for solutions, your mind landed on the idea of trying to assert your competence. Sure, you could make a great cup of coffee but the whole point of getting a real job was so that you could have real skills to market yourself. You could be perfect at this job, anticipate his every need, and you could more than an object to look at. 

You re-entered his office quietly after realizing he’d begun his first meeting of the day. Carefully, you set his coffee down on the edge of his desk. He was always so intense, so completely absorbed in his work, and that unwavering focus made you even more anxious. Maybe that’s how you should be, more composed, projecting an air of confidence.

Unsure of where you should settle, you made yourself comfortable on one of the leather couches. You checked your email on your laptop, finding several reminders from Eleanor. You found yourself frustrated by how she picked and chose what information to share with you but you balanced those feelings with the fact that she was often your saving grace. 

She gave you a list of tasks including arranging for a delivery of documents that needed to be signed by Rafe, confirming his dinner reservations for the night, and proofreading the notes you took from yesterday’s meetings. You told yourself by the end of the next week, you’d be able to handle things by yourself, and you wouldn’t have to lean on her so much. You’d have a day, eventually, where Rafe didn’t point out anything you did wrong. 

“I was thinking-” Rafe’s voice cut through the silence. You were so focused that you hand’t realized his meeting had ended. He folded his hands over each other, his eyes on you, “From now on, I want you to wear what I pick for you each day.”

“How …y-you’re not happy with what I’ve been choosing?”

“It’s not about not being happy. Now I have more of an idea of what I like on you,” His voice was smooth and authoritative, “You want to reflect my taste, my standards, yeah?”

You mustered the courage to ask your next question, “Can I-I dress a l-little less … formally when I work at home with you?”

“Less formally?” He tasted the words on his tongue, “You mean, like more casual?”

“Yes, Sss-sir. Like more comfortable.”

“We could experiment with that,” His tone was deceptively light, “On my terms though. Yeah?”

You nodded and were grateful that he hadn’t reacted lightly. He seemed to enjoy that you were asking him for permission.

“You’ll have to wear something different tonight though, for dinner. Eleanor is coming by towards the end of the day to bring you your outfit and take you to get your nails done.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes opened wide, “I-I thh-thhought it was more of a personal-”

“I won’t keep you out forever,” He said, “You got plans or something?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, Sir.”

Rafe worked through lunchtime, so you brought him the meal prepared by his chef, Stevie—an elegant older woman with blonde hair. She had made a pesto pasta salad that looked like it belonged in a gourmet magazine, despite your protests and insistence on eating your own packed lunch. Only after delivering the meal did Rafe grant you permission to take your break elsewhere.

You settled on the outdoor patio by the pool, enjoying the peacefulness of the space despite the distant, steady hum of a lawnmower. For a moment, you didn’t feel out of place. Your dress, though apparently unflattering to your figure, was worth a small fortune, and the gourmet lunch you were now enjoying was a far cry from the PB&J you’d packed.

Thirty minutes later, after finishing your lunch and enjoying a lengthy chat with Stevie, you reluctantly headed back upstairs. Hearing Rafe still on the phone, you decided to explore a bit more. His office was situated in the private wing of his house, and as you meandered through opulent corridors, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance into the master bedroom. It was cozier than you had anticipated, with tall gray walls that gave it a masculine feel and a plush bed draped in navy linen blanket that created a snug, cocoon-like atmosphere.

Rafe ended his call a minute later and the afternoon wore on. You settled into a rhythm, completing the various tasks that you’d added to your own to do lists and ones he’d assigned to you. You spent some time organizing files in his office. His gaze burned into you, even more when you were turned around, and surprisingly, you were starting to get used to that unnerving feeling. 

He waited for you to make a mistake but you used a hundred-percent of your effort to make sure that didn’t happen. 

The clock inched towards the evening, and the day grew even more quieter, more intimate. “I was looking over your notes from yesterday’s meeting with the board members. I highlighted some sections for you to read back to me,” He waved you over, his voice gruff after a long day of talking. You joined him behind his desk and you moved to lean over and get closer look, but he placed a hand on your hip. The gesture was firm, possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. With effortless strength, like a wolf guiding its prey, he maneuvered you onto his lap, settling you on his thigh. You felt the power in his grip, the unspoken control, and all you could do was comply.

“Rafe–” You started, an desperate attempt at a protest. 

“Start with the first section,” He commanded, his grip tightening. 

“I’ve been working on proofreading them–”

“Sweetheart,” He warned, not needing to add that you were making him angry. You could feel it, the heat coming off of him. 

You took a deep breath and slowly tried to read each sentence. Even if you didn’t have a sentence with a small typo, you still stammered over several of your words. He slid the chair closer to the desk and you yelped. 

“See right here,” He pointed to the screen but that only pressed him into you. You breathed slowly, trying not to hyperventilate, “This whole section needs more detail. I don’t want to have to ask more information.”

You were taken aback when Rafe actually began to instruct you on what you were meant to do. He spent at least ten minutes walking you through each sentence, explaining how to word your report, and deleted all the unnecessary details you added. He was surprisingly patient. 

“Now, your turn,” he said finally, leaning back in the chair. For a moment, you thought he was letting you up, but the pressure of his hand on your waist told you otherwise. “Fix it.”

You swallowed, hesitating as your fingers hovered over the keys. Ever keystroke was amplified in the quiet room. Doing your best to actually use your brain, you carefully made the changes he suggested. He watched you closely, his hands first placed on your hips but soon one wandered between your thighs. 

“Good,” He said. You could do it again, you thought, and not be so scared. His touch was teasing, a reminder of what he could do to you, all the pressure that built inside of you a spilled over. You could impress him, you could be beautiful, and not turn into a crying mess when he was inside of you. You could be more than a fragile thing to be broken.

Each word was a small victory. It was a battle you thought you could win until his fingers slipped inside your panties and his other hand grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. It was unbearable, and as he made small circles, you found your fingers slipping clumsily over the keys. 

You pressed your palms into his desk, your body tilting forward. A frustrated sigh left your lips, you couldn’t contain it, and Rafe’s chuckle rumbled from behind you, “Do you ever touch yourself like this? Be honest with me this time.”

“Y-Yes,” You whispered. 

“How do you do it?” He pulled you away from the desk, pulling your torso against his, “You use a toy?”

“J-Just my fff-fingers,” You admitted. 

“Like this? How do you like it?” Carefully, he switched between different approaches. He rubbed circles over your clit, smaller ones and then slower, bigger ones. Then he stroked you up and down, fingers slipping easily into your warm hole as he wandered lower, “You put those little fingers inside of you?”

“Rafe, please.”

“Tell me,” He kissed the side of your neck, “Or I’ll stop.”

"I-I don't usually put them inside… ," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I always use my pillow…”

He hummed against your ear. "See how much better this is when you cooperate? You can be such a good little assistant when you try."

You nodded, unable to speak, and let the feeling consume you. He brought you right to the edge, you were seconds away coming undone, but his movements slowed. Before you could register the feeling as disappointment, Rafe was hoisting you off of his lap. 

Moving with sudden determination, your feet were suddenly off the ground and Rafe was carrying you out of the room in his strong arms, “Rafe!” You clutched his shoulders as he carried you down the hall.

You turned your head as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, the heavy thud of the door slamming shut reverberating through the room. With a swift motion, he laid you gently on the bed. The softness beneath you was just as you had imagined, but the thought barely registered. You shot him an incredulous look, your face flushed with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He leaned over you, grabbing a pillow from behind you and placing it in front of you, “Show me.”

You shook your head instantly and moved to crawl away. Somehow, you could let all of his other sleazy behavior slide by but this was an insane boundary for him to try to cross. He’d already been inside you and yet this was a thousand times more intimate. 

He grabbed ahold of your thigh, “You’re so close, sweetheart. I know you want it,” He challenged you, “Probably feels like you need it.”

“Please,” You tried, your voice threatening to crack. His hands found your hips again, slowly positionin you over the pillow. The soft fabric brushed against your most sensitive spot, the familiar sensation making you bite down on your bottom lip, “Rafe.”

“You saying my name like that just makes me want it more,” Balancing on his knees, he grabbed ahold of your face and leaned in to kiss you. You felt the intensity of his desire, how much he wanted this, and it left you dizzy. 

When he pulled back, he looked over you. Your hips started moving in a familiar motion despite your embarrassment. You trembled from the vulnerability, the pounding in your chest, but you chased that high he gave you. It ignited your fire again, and since you didn’t have the full force of his touch anymore, you focused your eyes on him, “Good girl,” He said again and you whimpered, “Look at me just like that.”

You rolled your hips harder, faster, imagining his kiss, his touch, as the tension coiled tighter inside you. His gaze never left yours, his words a constant stream of encouragement and control.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” 

His words all jumbled together. 

“Just let it happen.”

“I want to see your face when you cum, sweetheart.”

“You look so desperate.”

“So needy.”

“You’re gonna make yourself cum, huh?”

“Just because I told you too.”

“Such a good girl.”

“Look at you.” 

The words pushed you over the edge, finally, and you were able to let go. He watched as you rode out that wave of pleasure and his hands found your body again, his grip grounding you. “Fuck,” You heard him say but you couldn’t respond. 

You were too overwhelmed to respond, your mind unable to fully process what had just happened. All you knew was that you felt good, embarrassed, and strangely satisfied that you'd pleased him, all at once. 

When you manage to look at him again, the doorbell rang. 

Eleanor navigated through the upscale nail salon, a palace of white and silvers, with ease, like she was a regular, and this was just an extension of her universe. You imagined this place as an escape for her, from both Rafe and Topper. She secured side-by-side seats near the back of the salon and you followed her lead as she set down her purse and removed her sandals. Her movements were fluid and assured. 

“Have you thought about what color you want?”

“Oh, um, n-no,” You tried to make yourself comfortable in the pedicure chair, “What d-do you think Rafe would like?”

“Maybe something pastel. You can’t go wrong with a soft pink.”

“Is that what you’re getting?” You asked, unassured, as you glanced around the luxurious setting. It wasns’t like other nail salons you’d been to where the technicians and customers talked at whatever volume they liked. It was quiet and each technician wore matching black uniforms. 

“I’ll tell them you want ballet slipper on your nails and white on your toes.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance, “Thank you.”

As your pedicures began, the warm lavender-scented water soaking your feet, two technicians took their places by your sides, working silently as they filed your nails. 

“How are you holding up?” Eleanor asked.

“Fff-fine,” You said, “I’m trying to . . . t-to understand him, I guess.”

“You’ll go crazy doing that,” She laughed lightly, flashing a look that said “poor you”. 

“How d-did you meet Topper?” Her face tightened at your question, “I mean, y-you didn’t say.”

“I’m from the same town as them, Rafe and Topper. Not really the same town, my parents didn’t have money growing up. But I worked at the country club they all went to. That’s how I met Topper.”

“And you started dating?”

“Something like that,” She made a small shrug, “I owe everything I have to them.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of her words despite the lack of detail. Another piece to the puzzle you were trying to put together. Maybe the two of them had an attraction to girls struggling to get by.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She asked and it made you pause.

Your instinct was to mirror her shrug, but you hesitated, wondering if you could trust her with your thoughts. If anyone could understand what you were going through, it had to be Eleanor.  “I-I just ffff-ffeel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only heard good things.”

“A-About me?” She nodded and your lips parted in shock. 

“Yes. I know you feel uncertain right now, but I think you'll be glad if you can stick it out. Topper… he’s a bastard, but he takes care of me. Rafe likes you too. Maybe he doesn’t know how to show it, but…” She paused, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s filthy rich. That would be enough for me.”

In that moment, her brutal honesty felt almost like reassurance. You weren’t sure if Eleanor truly grasped the extent of Rafe’s inability to show affection, that his pleasure came from humiliating you, from making you cry. Just as you couldn’t fully know what she endured with Topper. Her words weren't necessarily comforting but at least they felt real.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :)

[arabella0001]

passion behind the mask

pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Reader Anime: Naruto Synopsis: he’s always been your sensei… but something else has started to surface beneath that title

i'm new to writing so be gentle pls (eng not my first language)

Warnings: light teasing, rough sex, small age gap, dirty talk, fingering, against a tree

"the hokage assigned me to train you," kakashi said, his voice low and calm, eyes hidden beneath his mask. "i hope we get along. we don’t really have a choice in the matter." he extended a hand, his fingers long and relaxed.

"hi," you smiled, a hint of nervousness lingering in your words as you took his hand. his eyes seemed to pierce through you, assessing every detail.

"so, what brings you to konoha?" he asked, the question casual but his gaze sharp. "you're not from around here, are you?"

"no, i’m not." you hesitated, but your voice grew steadier. "i came for knowledge... to push myself further as a shinobi. i’ve heard about the techniques taught here in konoha." you locked eyes with him.

kakashi raised an eyebrow, an unreadable glint in his eyes. "i see. well, you’ve come to the right place," he said, crossing his arms with an air of ease. "but, let me be clear—i’m not known for being gentle with my students."

his tone was firm, but there was something almost dangerous about it, a subtle edge that made your pulse quicken. "training with me isn’t going to be easy. you sure you’re ready for that?"

"i’m ready," you replied, your voice steady despite the tension in the air.

he nodded, the slightest flicker of approval in his eye. "good. let’s see what you’ve got." his voice lowered, becoming almost a command. "follow me to the training grounds."

you followed him, feeling the weight of his gaze as he led you. as you arrived, he turned to face you, the sun casting shadows over his features. "show me your basic jutsu. your chakra control, your speed. don’t hold back." his words were sharp, commanding.

"understood," you said, heart racing.

kakashi’s gaze never left you as you centered yourself, focusing your chakra. his eyes, always sharp, watched your every move, analyzing with a precision that made you feel exposed, yet oddly encouraged.

"not bad," he commented, his voice cool and even. "but you’ve got a lot of work to do. your chakra control’s a bit shaky."

you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his profile—his sharp jawline, the way his hair caught the light. you quickly looked away, but you felt the heat rising in your cheeks, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

his voice broke your train of thought. "don’t get distracted," he warned softly, though his eyes were still assessing. "let’s focus on stabilizing your chakra flow. close your eyes."

you obeyed, trying to push aside the lingering warmth you felt at his proximity. his voice came again, low and almost soothing. "visualize your chakra as a steady stream, like water flowing through a riverbed. let it flow naturally. don’t force it."

the sound of his footsteps as he circled behind you made your heart race even more. he was so close now, his presence almost overwhelming, yet his tone was calm, instructing.

"can you feel it?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper against your ear. "that warmth spreading through your body? that’s your chakra awakening."

you focused harder, trying to ignore the unsettling closeness, the tingling sensation his voice caused. slowly, you felt the steady pulse of your chakra, the flow smooth and calm.

"good," he said, his voice returning to a neutral tone, but there was something almost approving in it. "now, keep that flow steady. let it fill you completely."

you opened your eyes and turned to face him, feeling the surge of control. his gaze flickered, a brief moment of recognition in his eye as he stepped closer, his breath brushing against your skin as he placed a gloved hand on your shoulder.

"nice work," he said, his touch lingering a moment too long before he pulled away. "but remember, control is everything. in a real fight, it’ll mean the difference between victory and defeat."

his fingers brushed across your collarbone, an unexpected jolt of warmth running through you. you quickly regained your composure, nodding.

"now," he continued, his voice barely above a murmur, "let’s focus on your hand signs. channel your chakra outward. gather it in your palms."

he moved beside you, his arm brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. "like this," he demonstrated, his body close enough that you could feel the heat from him.

you followed his instructions, focusing all your attention on the flow of chakra, trying to block out the overwhelming presence of the man beside you.

kakashi’s eyes flicked to yours, his expression unreadable. "excellent," he murmured, his praise almost like a whisper. "now hold it. don’t release it yet—just let it build." his hand brushed yours again, and for a moment, everything seemed to still, his gaze intense on you.

his voice lowered, almost too soft, but the rough edge behind it betrayed him "control is everything. too much force, and you risk losing precision. too little, and the jutsu lacks power." you focus sharpened as i visualized the chakra swirling in my palms, just as kakashi instructed. the air shimmered faintly around my hands, and i could feel the energy building.

glancing at kakashi, i realized how close he was, our shoulders nearly touching. his proximity stirred something inside me, an unsettling flutter in my stomach. but i pushed it aside, refocusing on my chakra control.

he must have sensed my distraction—his eyes flickered, lips twitching into a smirk beneath his mask. he leaned in, his breath brushing my ear as he murmured, "that's it. feel the energy build... just a little more..."

his gloved hand brushed against my lower back, the touch light, but firm. he was guiding me, urging me to engage my core muscles and steady myself. but his presence was too close, too... intimate, sending a rush of warmth through me.

"now, release it. on my signal," he said, his voice low, but commanding.

i swallowed, trying to steady my breathing as my body betrayed me. his touch grounded me, but also stirred something deep within, a strange heat that made my pulse race.

at his command, i released the chakra with a forceful burst, feeling the air crackle with energy. kakashi’s hand never left my back, anchoring me through the rush of power.

"impressive," he said, his tone almost soft. "your control’s getting better."

i flushed, his praise settling warmly in my chest. "thank you, sensei."

he met my gaze, eyes darkening slightly, lingering just long enough to make my heart skip and he nodded at you. he stepped back, crossing his arms. "next, we work on stamina. you can’t be passing out mid-mission."

i nodded, the training for the day coming to an end. as he stood there, arms crossed, my eyes wandered involuntarily over his form. his muscles strained beneath his flak jacket, and i caught myself lingering on the defined lines of his shoulders before quickly looking away.

"same time tomorrow," i said, hoping my voice didn’t betray the chaos in my thoughts.

he noticed the flicker of my gaze, and his lips twitched into a knowing smile. he uncrossed his arms and adjusted his forehead protector, revealing the smooth line of his arm as he did so.

"right then. see you tomorrow." his voice dropped an octave, almost teasing. "and y/n?" he leaned in, close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin. "don’t stay up too late. you’ll need your rest for what i have planned."

his words lingered too long in the air, curling around me in ways i wasn’t ready for. i felt the heat rise to my cheeks, heart stumbling over itself. no—he couldn’t have meant it that way. he was my teacher. I was reading too much into this… right?

but as i turned to leave, i heard him add, voice rich with amusement, "try to keep your mind out of the gutter, yeah? focus on your training, not... other things."

i felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, realizing he must have noticed more than i’d wanted. hurrying away, i tried to compose myself, but thoughts of him—his proximity, his touch—kept swirling in my mind.

that night, i couldn’t help but replay every moment, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze. a soft sigh escaped as i curled up in bed, my body betraying me. was it just me, or had something shifted between us?

the next morning, i was still flustered, still thinking of him as i dressed, the memory of the dream i had haunting me. the way his chakra had felt against mine... and the look in his eyes. but i shoved the thoughts aside. he was my sensei.

outside, kakashi stood waiting by the training grounds, his presence as enigmatic as ever. as i approached, his eyes locked onto mine, a subtle smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"good morning," he greeted, voice casual but the challenge in his eyes undeniable. "ready for today’s drills?"

i nodded, trying to suppress the heat building in my cheeks. i could feel his gaze on me, sharp and assessing.

"let’s start with taijutsu," he said, guiding me through the movements with careful precision. his hands adjusted my stance, fingers brushing my skin, igniting something deep inside me. his touch was light, but it left me breathless, making it hard to focus.

"let’s start with taijutsu," he said, his voice steady as he guided me through the movements. his hands adjusted my stance, fingers brushing lightly over my skin, sending an unexpected jolt through me. the touch was soft, but it stayed, trailing just long enough to make it hard to focus..

his voice came again, quieter now, close to my ear, "relax... feel the movement." his breath brushed the back of my neck, and for a moment, it felt as though everything else faded away, leaving only the warmth growing in my chest.

i struggled to concentrate, but every word, every movement of his hand, seemed to unravel my focus more than the last.

"good," he murmured, and the simple praise sent a rush through me. "you’re doing well. but we’ll need to work on your speed."

his eyes traced my every movement, and i could feel the weight of his gaze as though it were touching me. each time our bodies brushed, my pulse would quicken. he seemed to notice every shift, every change—how my skin warmed, how my breath faltered.

after what felt like hours, he stepped back, his gaze still lingering on me. "well done," he said, his tone thick with something unspoken, something that made my heart skip.

he noticed the flush creeping up my neck, the way my breath came quicker. his eyes dropped lower, following the curve of my waist, drifting to where my legs met.

as much as he tried to keep his composure, he couldn't tear his eyes away, drawn to the way i moved, how my body reacted. the sight of me, sweating and breathless, seemed to leave him momentarily lost.

he noticed the confusion in my eyes, heard the way my breathing faltered, and somehow, he understood before i did—he was driving me to the edge, unknowingly or not.

his hand moved, barely grazing my arm, the air between us shifted—faint, electric, and impossible to dismiss.

i felt a sudden panic, my mind racing, and for a moment, i thought he knew. i wanted to step back, but my feet wouldn’t move. "kakashi... i need to take a break," i managed to say, my voice a little too shaky.

"of course," he replied, his tone calm, though there was something unreadable behind his eyes. "take your time." he murmured under his breath, barely audible, "we’ve got all day."

he watched me retreat, his gaze steady as i moved, his eyes following me as though he could sense the turmoil within me. it took everything in him not to step forward, not to pull me back, to close the distance between us. but he shook off the thought quickly, reminding himself of the boundaries, that i was his student.

a small, wry smile tugged at his lips as he turned back to the training dummy. it was hard not to wonder—what would it be like to feel that connection shift into something else?

he stood, unmoving now, his focus on the target before him. but his thoughts wandered, lost in images of me. his hands flexed unconsciously, fingers curling as though around a weapon he wasn’t quite sure he should use.

i should say something… stop this before it goes any further. she’s still my student. but there’s something in her eyes—something far too steady for someone her age. and for a moment, it’s hard to remember the line I’m supposed to hold.

his mind wanders down dangerous paths as he imagines how softy our skin would feel under his touch, how sweet your moans might sound while you come out from behind the tree and walk toward him. you try to act normal.

" so…i m sorry..we can resume our training, sensei"

his eyes flicker up from the training dummy, meeting yours with a calm, steady gaze. there's something unreadable in his expression - like he's seeing right through you

"we can resume... "he agrees easily, crossing his arms over his chest. "but first... "

without warning, he lunges forward, moving faster than anyone could react. in mere seconds, he has you pinned against the tree behind you - your body pressed flush against his own.

you gasp as he pins you against the tree, your heart races and your body reacts to his touch. "w-what? kakashi sensei? "

he leans closer, his breath barely skimming your ear, the kind of closeness that makes the rest of the world shrink away. his voice follows, softer than usual, but it lands low, rough around the edges, like he’s not sure he should be saying it at all.

'testing your reflexes…'

his lips don’t quite touch your skin, but they linger near enough to make you notice every shallow breath between you. when his hand drifts down, fingers tracing the line of your waist, it’s deliberate—measured, like he’s giving you time to stop him.

'and how well you listen,' he murmurs, his palm settling just below your hip.

your breath hitches, seeing your reaction, his hand grips your ass.

i can feel the heat of his body against mine. my eyes widened, cant believe he is touching me right now. usually so composed with an unreadable emotions.

"Kakashi..I…"

his grip on your ass tightens, pulling you even more firmly against him. you can feel the hard line of his arousal pressing insistently against your stomach.

"don't worry... "he murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your neck. "this isn't part of the training. at least... not yet. "

"kakashi…I don't think is okay what we are doing" you were feeling so aroused, he pulls back slightly, grey eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and raw, unchecked lust. his breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to regain some semblance of control.

"you're right... "he admits, voice rough with need.. "this shouldn't be happening. I'm your sensei... "

but even as he says the words, his hand slides lower, fingers hooking into the elastic of your panties and tugging them aside.

"can..you take off your mask? you asked anxious because he never show his face without it. he pauses, his lips hovering just inches from yours as he considers your request. for a long moment, he remains silent, his expression unreadable behind the silver mask that has become an integral part of his persona. then, with a subtle nod, he pulls away, revealing the full expanse of his face.

"very well" with deliberate slowness, he lifts the mask, letting it dangle from one finger as he exposes the beauty mark on the left corner of his mouth, the vertical scar bisecting his left eye, and the striking contrast of his spiky silver hair against his tanned skin. he holds your gaze, his dark grey eyes piercing and intense, as if daring you to react to this rare glimpse of vulnerability.

"beautiful…" your fingers graze the scar, and for a moment, he's lost in the sensation, his eyes drifting closed as he savors the intimacy of the gesture. when he opens them again, they're burning with a smoldering intensity, his pupils dilated with desire.

without waiting for a response, he closes the distance between you once more, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss that speaks volumes about the depth of his feelings, his lips feeling so much better now. his hands roam over your body, mapping the curves and contours with a possessive hunger that leaves no doubt about his desire for you.

the sound of your moan sends a jolt of pleasure through him, he deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours in a sensual ballet of passion. one hand slides down to grasp your hip, pulling you harder against him as he grinds his erection into the cradle of your thighs.

breaking the kiss, he trails his lips along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh as he works his way down to your neck. he inhales your scent, committing it to memory as his hands begin to roam beneath your clothing, seeking the warmth of your skin.

"tell me, Y/N... "he whispers against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. " have you ever been touched like this before? "

with surprising strength, he hoists you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he presses you harder into the tree. his free hand finds your breast, thumb rubbing over the hardened peak of your nipple through your clothing making you moan.

“not like this…" he kiss you hard, his tongue delves into your mouth, claiming it with a fierce dominance that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"mmmph... "he growls against your lips, breaking the kiss only to trail his mouth down the column of your throat. nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, his hands roam your body, exploring every curve and dip with a hunger that borders on desperation. fingers deftly unfasten your top, pushing the fabric aside to expose your breasts to the cool evening air.

you gasp as he exposes your breasts, you arch your back slightly, your nipples harden under his gaze.  his dark grey eyes drink in the sight of your bared breasts, pupils dilating with lust. a low, appreciative rumble vibrates in his chest as he cups the soft mounds, thumbs teasing over the pebbled nipples.

"beautiful... "he murmurs, voice thick with desire. leaning in, he takes one pert nipple between his teeth, gently biting down before soothing the sting with his tongue.

as he lavishes attention on your breasts, his other hand continues its exploration, sliding beneath the hem of your skirt to cup the heat of your sex through your panties. he groans at the dampness he finds there, fingers rubbing slow circles over your clit.

you whimper softly, tilting your head back against the tree as he teases your nipples and touches you intimately.  he doesn't hesitate, probing your slick entrance with a finger, feeling how ready you are for him

"fuck... "he curses under his breath, adding a second finger to stretch and prepare you. "so wet already... you want this, don't you? want me inside you".

"yes…" with a low, primal growl, he surges forward, burying his throbbing length deep within your welcoming heat. your tight walls clench around him, drawing him in further as he starts to move, setting a slow but deep pace that has you gasping and writhing against the tree.

"so tight... "he grunts, hips snapping forward to meet your eager thrusts. one hand grips your hip, holding you steady as the other reaches up to palm your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

"ahhh fuck" you moans loudly as he pounds into you, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper as you cling to his shoulders. your nails dig into his skin as pleasure coils tighter and tighter in your core.

"more...harder...please" you beg shamelessly, lost in the intensity.his grip on your hip tightens almost painfully as he drives into you with increased ferocity, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the forest. sweat beads on his brow, mixing with the silver strands of hair that fall across his forehead.

"you have no idea how good you feel "he pants harshly, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive nub as he chases your impending climax. "come for me, Y/N...now... "

your scream of pleasure pushes him over the edge. with a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and erupts inside you, filling you with wave after wave of hot seed. he holds you close, panting heavily as he rides out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

"fuck...that was... "he trails off, struggling to find words amidst the haze of post-coital bliss. slowly, he pulls out, watching with a mix of pride and trepidation as his cum leaks out of your well-used pussy. "we should probably get cleaned up before someone finds us like this... "he suggests, trying to sound casual despite the lingering desire in his gaze.

"yes.. "looks down at the evidence of your passionate encounter dripping down your thighs. feeling vulnerable. you two just fucked. you and your sensei. the kakashi hatake.

he notices your gaze drifting to the mess between your legs and feels a pang of something unfamiliar - concern, perhaps, or even affection. shaking off the unexpected emotions, he steps closer, offering you a hand to help you clean up.

 "thank you" and he gives your hand a brief squeeze before releasing it, tucking himself back into his pants and straightening his flak jacket. "no need to thank me, Y/N. that was... mutual, to say the least. "

clearing his throat, he attempts to regain some composure, though his eyes still linger on yours with an unreadable expression. "now, let's get moving before we attract any unwanted attention. i'm supposed to be training you, after all. "

you nodded at him and preparing for heading  back to village.

"and maybe keep this little tryst between us, hmm? for both our sakes. "his voice is firm, attempting to maintain a sense of normalcy, but there's a hint of softness in his tone that wasn't there before.

with that, he sets off through the trees, expecting you to follow. despite the unconventional start to your partnership, he can't deny the spark of excitement at the prospect of guiding such a fiery, passionate individual as yourself.

Wattpad link

[pupyuj]

imagine g!p rei & gaeul with reader.. make it happen plsss😭😭

my gamseongz… they’re such an interesting and underrated pair i swear 😭💔 will never forget that one moment in that one cooking show where the host was in awe of how easily they can say “i love you” to each other ☹️☹️ THE CUTIES EVER.

also pls ignore how i completely forgot to post this WAYYY earlier 💀💀💀

[cw: g!p gaeul, g!p rei, virgin!rei, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, praise kink.]

let me paint ya’ll a picture! reibear wanting to take the Big Step with you like you already did with gaeul but feeling so shy and frankly, a little insecure bcs this was really the first time she was feeling like this and was afraid you’d be disappointed in her bcs she didn’t know what to do… and that was where the reliable gaeul-unnie comes to the rescue! 🤭 why, she wanted her adorable girlfriends to ‘take the Big Step’ too! but she knows rei was too nervous and you, being the gentlewoman that you are, didn’t want to pressure her into doing anything so gaeul wanted to take it up to herself to make all three of you have the best time together 😋😋

gaeul saying that she will ‘guide’ rei through it… and she really thought it was an innocent and helpful thing to do okay! she did not at all think of how much of a pervert she would look and feel like once she was with the two of you, in your bedroom, rock-hard as she stared at you and rei making out on the bed 😵‍💫 but she refused to do anything about it! this night was about you and rei! 😤

she still finds everything the two of you were doing adorable, however… the way rei’s hands shook as she undressed you while you just smiled at how cute she was being, the way rei was barely able to keep a hold of herself once you pulled her underwear down and finally got to see her cock—gaeul couldn’t help but fall in love even more! 🥺 but she was also hard as a rock… but she couldn’t just interrupt the two of you to satisfy her needs.. and so to keep herself at bay and to give herself something to do, gaeul decides to actually do what she has been trying to do this entire time, which was to guide reibear! 😋💕

the sight of gaeul behind rei, basically backhugging her with her chin on top of her shoulder, whispering all the praises and comfort in her ear while they both watch you take rei’s cock down your throat was the main reason you were a soaking mess 😵‍💫😵‍💫 gaeul instructing rei to put her hand on your head, push you down deeper, use your mouth, and completely control you… her praises for the two of you sounded so sweet, neither of you can’t get enough of them! 🥺

“my good, pretty girls… you’re both doing so well.”

“keep going, rei-yah… you’re almost there, aren’t you? (y/n)’s being so good to you right now… don’t waste it.”

“she’s gonna cum in your mouth soon, baby girl… you can take it all, right, (y/n)-ah?”

and ofc bcs you wanted to make gaeul proud and simply bcs you did want it, you allow rei to blow her load in your mouth, swallowing what you could until you had enough 🤤 but rei was still so hard, the baby needed to be inside you to be satisfied! 🥺🥺 and so you lie down and this time, gaeul was behind you, kissing you and massaging your breasts while rei spread your legs open, hungry for more.. 🫠 gaeul abruptly cutting off your make-out sesh just to have you look as rei slowly inserts her cock inside you in one go… all three of you just moaning in pleasure once you were able to fit all of reibear’s length inside you 😵‍💫💞

and thanks to gaeul’s guidance and encouragement, rei just plows into you and you loved it bcs not only were you being fucked so good that your eyes were rolling to the back of your head but you were also being babied and fawned over in your ear! it was basically fucking christmas for you! 🤤🤤 gaeul had the grand idea to have rei pull out at the exact moment she came so she could see how beautiful you looked with cum all over your stomach and thighs.. and rei became completely obsessed with the sight of it all 😍

but aw reibear feeling sooo tired afterwards that she just melts on top of you :(( you and gaeul showering her with kisses and praises while she giggles and hides her red face… sososo cute 🥰💕💕 but god! you were still so horny.. and you could feel gaeul’s cock pocking your behind but when you suggest that it was her turn to be pleased, she wants to be polite sooo bad 😤

“i think i’ll manage… it was a treat to watch you both, plus this night was about you two!” you and rei knew gaeul was just too shy to actually ask if she can fuck either of you 😒 but well, thank goodness you and rei just finished, right?? yeah, exactly! it was bcs of that that the two of you were able to give gaeul the best blowjob of her life and have the honour to paint her favorite pretty faces with her cum 🥰

[sjy-files]

i can do it way better - lhs

a/n - this is for u @lovelyxwonpil

synopsis - heeseung (the only person you truly trust) is your best friend and roommate. after countless nights of hearing you complain about how your boyfriend doesn't fuck you right, he offers to help out.

warnings - smut, cheating (do not do this), mdni !, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before u tap it)

tags - switch!heeseung x switch!fem reader, messy sex, creampie, oral (both ways), spanking, cum eating, degrading, riding, VERY desperate heeseung

word count - 1.2k

"i'm being serious, heeseung!" you defend yourself, scoffing at him. "you're telling me, he has never made you cum? like ever?" he laughs, looking at you in the kitchen as he sits in the living room. "yes! i tell you this almost every other day, i'm not even being dramatic." you huff, trying to hide a smile. he gets up from the couch, going to join you in the kitchen and leaning over the counter. "how about i help you?" he suggests, leaving you dumbfounded. "help me? heeseung, be serious." you laugh slightly, not being able to tell if he's actually serious. "i'm being very serious, what could you have to lose?" he smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the counter. you stare at him, your mouth slightly agape. "uhm, my boyfriend?!" you laugh in disbelief. "you're always complaining about him, one time won't hurt." he shrugs, taking a step towards you. "if you don't want to just say the word and we won't." he smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. you look up at him, chewing your bottom lip as your resolve slowly melts away. "i do want to..." you mumble, caving in to your own selfish desires. he smiles, taking your hand and leading you to his room.

as soon as you guys enter his room he closes the door and turns to you, "take your clothes off." he instructs, leaning against the door to watch you. you blush, slowly going to remove your shirt. he watches intently as you reveal more and more skin, his cock straining against his pants. your eyes drift off to his bulge, mouth watering as you try to imagine what his cock would taste like. you undo your bra, hooking your thumbs in you shorts and pulling them down with your panties. he bites his bottom lip to stifle a groan, cock twitching as he motions for you to lay on the bed. you saunter over to the bed, getting on all fours and looking back at him standing by the door. "please..." you whine, desperation in your voice as heat pools low in your stomach. heeseung groans, walking over to you and gripping you by your waist. "such a little slut, already soaking wet." he tsks, rubbing your ass cheek before laying a sharp smack across it. you yelp, the sting of his hand making your pussy throb. "please, heeseung." you whimper, starting to feel impatient. "you gonna be a good little slut?" he demands, smacking your ass again. you nod frantically, letting out a soft moan when he smacks your ass. he smiles, pushing your stomach to the mattress, your back arched even more.

without wasting a second he spreads your folds apart, slipping his tongue inside you. you moan out his name, gripping the bed sheets while your face is pressed into the mattress. he grips your ass, nose buried in your slit as he tongue fucks you. without even realizing it he starts grinding against the mattress, the taste of you making his cock throb. your cries of pleasure increase as he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in circles while his tongue twists inside you. his hips move faster, tongue buried deep inside your pussy. your stomach tightens and you grind against his face, crying out his name as you cum and your walls flutter around him. he groans loudly, gripping your ass tightly as he cums in his pants.

you turn to face him, throat tightening when you see the spot where he came. you get off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him and frantically fumbling with the buttons. he laughs, threading his fingers through your hair as he watches you. "are you that eager for my cock? you really are a slut." he scoffs, shaking his head. you pout, pulling his sweatpants down with his boxers to reveal his cock, the tip leaking with cum. your mouth waters and your immediately take it in your hands. he inhales sharply, still sensitive from cumming before. you look up at him for approval and he nods, making a ponytail with your hair. you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and licking the cum off his tip. he groans, gripping your hair and holding himself back from ramming his cock down your throat. you ease him into your mouth, tongue tracing the vein before he reaches the back of your throat. "that's it..." he grunts, throwing his head back and thrusting in your mouth slightly, your eyes prick with tears as you gag, taking a deep breath before taking him deeper. he grips the back of your head, fucking deep into your throat. tears stream down your face, desire pooling in your stomach as he has his way with you. "you take my cock so fucking good, like such a slut." he pants, cock twitching in your mouth as he thrusts faster. you hum in agreement, the vibration sending him over the edge as his cum fills your mouth with a loud groan.

you pull back, swallowing every last drop with a smile on your face. he collapses against the bed dramatically, trying to catch his breath. you get up, straddling his waist and grinding your wet pussy against his cock. he grips your waist tightly, shuddering a little. you slap his hands away, pinning them above his head. "no touching unless i say so." you smile, moving your hand to place his tip at your entrance. he moans softly, hips bucking against you. you tsk, teasing him as you slide his tip through your folds. "please..." he whines, desperation laced in his voice. "do you promise to be a good boy?" you coo, pressing a kiss to his forehead. he nods frantically, whimpering as his cock twitches in your hand. you slowly sink down on him, hands gripping his shoulders for balance. he gasps, trying to stop himself from fucking up into you. you bounce up and down, hand on his chest to keep him against the mattress. "you look so hot letting me use you." you moan, rubbing your clit as you bounce faster. he whines, hips bucking from all the restraint he's practicing. "just wanna cum..." he pleads, hands still above his head. you press a kiss to his lips, lingering there for a second. "ask me nicely." you demand, stilling your movements. he groans, breathing getting heavier. "please, i need to cum. please let me cum in you!" he begs, stomach getting tighter. you nod, deciding to give him what he wants. he grips your waist, flipping your positions so you're underneath him. within a second he's pounding into you, the sound of your moans and skin meeting filling the room. you dig your nails into his back and cry out his name, walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm washes over you. he lets out a loud groan, stilling inside you as he empties his load inside you. you watch as his cum seeps out of you, his fingers rushing to push it back in. you laugh tiredly, laying limp against the mattress.

he moves to pull you in an embrace, sticky and sweaty bodies tangled together. he kisses you softly, playing with your hair. "so, you gonna break up with that boyfriend?" he chuckles, teasing you. you rolls your eyes, cuddling closer to him. "definitely, you can do it way better." you mumble, closing your eyes. "oh, i can do it way better." he whispers, kissing your temple.

[comet-forgot-you]

Hii girlie, I wanted to thank you for feeding us every day🙏🙏 your fics are so good and I really appreciate that you make effort to post everyday(but don't overwork yourself!). I'd also like to ask if you could write anything for Sam Carpenter?? Thank you bb, ur awesome!!💖💖

hurry

sam carpenter x reader

summary: the drummer of your brother's band is hot.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, thigh grinding, mentions of previous events, fingering, marking, biting (just like once), almost caught but def not, i think thats all lmk if theres more. 

a/n: HEY GUYS DID U MISS ME??? enjoy this one in a million occasion of me writing for someone other than a mikey madison character😱😱 this is my first time writing for sam dont bully me im just a girl. do not repost for any reason.

your brother and his stupid band. the same one that gathered in the garage every saturday and played the same music every time. you usually never minded the music, but you were frustrated. the house was hot, the air conditioner was being worked on and the heat was really starting to get to you.

you were laid on the couch in the living room, stripped down to your sportsbra and shorts hours ago, trying your best to cool yourself down. the glass doors leading to your backyard were wide open, a small breeze flowing in. you didn't understand how they did it. how they practiced in the small, hot garage. it was much hotter in there than it was in the house, opening the garage door hardly helped cool it down.

the sound of the music stopped and a few minutes passed before the door leading to the garage opens and your brother walks out. you sit up slightly, looking over at him as he grabs his keys.

"where you goin'?" you ask, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"to get a fan, it's hot as fuck in that garage," you brother mumbles, walking back to the garage. "why, need somethin'?" you shake your head, falling back onto the couch. the door closes and you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet house.

the sound of drums interrupt the silence and you can’t help the giddy feeling that washes over you. sam was still here, of course she was. you pull yourself off of the couch and walked towards the garage, eyes landing on her the second you opened the door.

fuck.

she was hot, you knew it, she knew it, but right now? with the way sweat coated her body, her arms on display due to the sleeveless shirt she wore? it forced a wave of heat to pulse through you. her muscles flexed with every beat of the drum, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. she looks up at you, slowly coming to a stop. she pries a headphone out, nodding up at you. "hey," she says loudly. she cringes at the volume of her voice, “sorry, what’s up?”

a smile tugs at your lips. "hey, sam. didn't want to go with my brother?" you ask, stepping into the garage. sam shakes her head, grabbing the almost empty bottle of water sat next to the bass drum.

"nah, already hot as it is, didn't want to sit shoulder to shoulder in his small ass car with all of em'." she pulls her headphone case out, taking her other headphone out before stuffing it back into her pocket. you could feels sam’s eyes on you as you move to stand next to her, head tilting slightly as you look over the drums.

"want me to teach you how to play?" she asks. you down at her, biting the inside of your lip.

"sure," you mumble, taking the sticks she offered you. you stood awkwardly next to her, waiting for her to get up, but her hands find their way around your hips, pulling you to sit down on her lap. she holds onto the backs of your hands, moving them to beat against the drums softly.

her breath is hot against your neck as she whispers instructions. you try to listen, you really do, but the way her hands hold onto you, the way you can feel her chest flush against your back, it was so fucking distracting.

sam shows you how to play a small piece before she lets go of your hands completely. you miss it almost immediately. she bounces her leg slightly in an attempt to get you to repeat the motions she had just showed you, but the feeling of her thigh pressing into your clothed cunt has you surpressing a whine. you shakily reach out to beat against the drums, repeating what sam had just showed you.

"yeah, just like that," she mumbles. she holds onto your hips, the feeling driving you insane. her leg bounces against your cunt so nicely with every beat against the bass drum. you're overwhelmed, the feeling of her pressed against you, the way she unknowingly pressed into your cunt so perfectly, it was all so much and so so fucking good.

"fuck," you let out a quiet whine as sam's leg grinds against your cunt again. you lean back against the girl, drum sticks gripped tightly in your hands, your head resting on her shoulder. sam's arms move to wrap around your waist, a fake look of worry plastered on her face.

"you okay?" she asks.

you roll your hips against her thigh. "don't act innocent, sammy," you whine. sam traces her fingers across the exposed skin of your stomach. “you know what you’re doin’," you mumble. sam smiles, finger dipping into your waistband before pulling it back to let it smack against your skin. you arch into her touch, drumsticks falling to the ground.

“can’t help it, you look so pretty.” you pry her hands from around your waist before turning in her lap. a small smile paints her lips as she looks up at you, eyes blown with lust. her hands find their place on your hips again, yours holding her shoulders for support.

seconds pass before your lips are pressed against each other, sam guiding your hips to grind down on her thigh. quiet moans fall from your lips and sam’s quick to take advantage, pushing her tongue into your mouth. your hands tangle into her hair, tugging lightly to separate the two of you.

“need y’so bad, sam,” you mumble against the skin of her jaw. sam’s grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly when you suck a deep mark in her neck.

“your brothers gonna see that,” she mumbles in, pushing her hand into your shorts. “he probably saw the last ones, too,” you groan, memories of sam’s head buried between your thighs flashing through your head.

“shut up,” you whine, pulling away from her ever so slightly. “living room, need you so bad, please?” sam lets out a quiet groan, nodding her head. you smile, taking her hand into yours as you pull her into the cooler house.

you can barely make it to the couch, sam’s hands wandering all over your body. you push the brunette onto the couch, straddling her lap almost immediately. sam’s lips trails up and down your neck, pausing every once in a while to suck marks into your skin. she pushes a hand into your shorts and you quick to grind down against it, needy moans falling from your lips.

sam rubs your clothed clit, “just fuck me already, sammy, need it.” sam pulls your underwear to the side, swiping a finger through your soaked folds.

“fuck,” she groans. her hand holding your hip moving to wrap around your waist. “so wet, all for me?” you nod frantically, needy moans falling from your lips when sam prods your entrance with her fingers.

“yeah, all for you, promise. js’,” you pause for a moment, bucking your hips into her hand, “please.”

sam sinks two fingers into your cunt, curling them slowly, before pulling out completely, spreading your wetness to your clit. you let out quiet whimpers at the stimulation, her fingers gently teasing your pulsing clit. you call her name in a quiet whisper. its a plead you can’t help but let out. her actions send waves of heat surging throughout your body.

“hmm?” she hums against the skin of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to her as her fingers sink back into your cunt. she’s gentle despite the aggression she took out on her drums mere minutes before.

she thrusts her fingers into you rhythmically, curling them to hit the spot that has you biting your lip to suppress the noises that threaten to slip out. sam’s free hand moves to cradle your haw, thumb tugging at your lip. she tsks, “none of that, you wanted me, let me hear you.” the demanding tone in her voice draws a whine from you. sam’s thumb grazes your clit and your hips jerk at the feeling.

its not long before you’re teetering on the edge of your orgasm, sam’s thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit, finger’s pumping in and out of your dripping cunt so deliciously. the sound of your brother’s car has you whining against her neck, “better hurry up before they come in. wouldn’t want them seein’, hmm?” you let out a loud moan, biting her shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet. sam lets out a hiss at the feeling. “unless thats what you wanted. wanted em’ to see you all slutted out for me.”

“no! no, please, fuck, no don’t want em’,” your sentence is cut off when sam’s fingers curl into you.

“come on then, cum for me,” she mumbles. your orgasm hits you seconds later, loud moans muffled in her neck. same pulls out of you, bring her fingers up to her mouth and licking them clean. the motion has you stifling a moan that threatens to escape. the sound of the large garage door opening has you pushing yourself off of sam’s lap, still struggling to catch your breath.

“go,” you mumble, cheeks warm from your previous activities. sam doesn’t move, her lips twitched up into a teasing smirk.

“why? don’t want em’ to see how much of a slut you are for me?” you roll your eyes, heat building in your core.

“shut up, sam. go.” sam smiles, pushing herself off of the couch.

“same time next week?” she jokes, walking back to the garage. you roll your eyes at her, a soft smile etching its way onto your lips.

“idiot,” you mumble beneath your breath.

reblogs much appreciated :D

[muddyorbsblr]

come on, england

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: about a year after 'a sizing mishap'

Summary: When the video director for Tom's promo seems uncomfortable with articulating the vision that was instructed of him, you step in to help things along

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: a tiny bit of dirty talk; little to no plot in this i just wrote it for the thirst [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: we're in a new era (reveal at the end author notes)

This feels familiar, you thought to yourself, watching Tom walk in front of the camera, wearing a white and blue jersey with the number 6 in the middle. He looked to the side of the camera, his eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a moment, before putting on his game face and returning his focus to the lens, looking like he was about to give a pep talk.

"Come on, England!" he exclaimed, with an enthusiasm that felt better suited for a stage performing Shakespeare. Fitting, considering how the target audience were to be sports enthusiasts that Soccer Aid wanted to attract and fill seats next Sunday.

The man behind the camera threw up his hand, scratching the back of his head as he shouted, "Cut!" It was obvious that while he had done a magnificent job, as always, this didn't quite fit with the vision they had in mind. "That was…great, Tom. Really it was. But maybe we could go again but this time a bit more…encouraging?"

"You mean like louder, yeah?"

"No actually maybe a bit…softer?"

Despite his efforts to keep his expression unchanging, you could see the questions swirling in Tom's oceanic eyes. You'd known him far too long that those minute changes no longer got past you. And long enough that you could wager a guess that the questions popping up in his head were the same as yours.

If they want encouraging, then that last take should have done it. It's the tone the sports fans respond to. It's their catnip.

But as soon as the director said, "Maybe like…soothing?", the real vision clicked into place. The target audience for this promotional video wasn't the sports fans at all.

"You mean seductive?" you spoke up from your seat, shifting your posture to cross your leg over the other and resting your arms on your knee. "Enticing?"

"That's--preposterous I would never--"

"Come on, you and I both know who you have in front of the camera. And the type of crowd you want filling in the rest of the seats of that stadium, it's okay. But see, he's not gonna give you the performance you see in your head if you keep trying to dance around the words," you explained, motioning toward both of them. "You want him to play it sexy, just say the words."

"I can't it feels weird, ma'am," he finally blurted out. "These were just the instructions relayed to me, that the feel should be--"

"Tantalizing," you finished for him, trying to hold back a chuckle at how his face reddened as he nodded. You stood up, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your navy blue jumpsuit. "Alright then, show me how to operate the camera."

You walked over to look at the instructions that he referred to, your skin prickling at the scrawled words of 'Make sure he doesn't show his left hand'.

'Bedroom voice pls', another one said in bright sky blue ink.

"I know that look, sweetheart," Tom spoke up. "Are you alright?"

You made your way to him, your shoulders immediately relaxing when he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you to him as he pressed his lips to your forehead. "Nothing we haven't dealt with before," you answered him, taking a deep breath and smiling at the comfort you felt from his signature citrusy leathery scent. "Now for this take…how about we try you walking into the shot? And then you stare the camera down while you say the line? Forget encouraging and just…"

Identical wide smiles stretched across your faces as you whispered a scenario to him that you believed could get his voice to where the organizers' vision wanted it to be. He slid his hand down the side of your body, giving you a playful little tap on the ass right as you walked back toward the camera.

The video director showed you how to start rolling on the camera then stepped aside to let you run the shot. "Ready, sweetie?"

He threw you a look that had you fighting not to squirm where you stood, answering you in that gravelly tone you were intimately familiar with. "For you, goddess? Always."

You positioned yourself squarely behind the camera, throwing up your hand to count him down to his cue. 3…2…1…Go.

Tom walked into the shot, his eyes meeting yours behind the camera. He took a breath, adjusting his stance to have his feet shoulder-width apart and placing his hands on his hips. His eyes roamed your features with the slightest whisper of the hunger and mischief that you were accustomed to when you were within the privacy of your home. And then he spoke, his voice low and raspy that it immediately brought your thoughts to that scenario you whispered in his ear minutes before.

Imagine that it's just you and me, sneaking in a quickie on the day bed in our study and failing because you're talking me into just one more round. Talking me into making more of a mess on you so we end up in the shower. Or the bathtub.

"Come on, England," he said softly, squinting his eyes at the lens. At you. And then he pursed his lips, fighting back the smile that threatened to follow through once he clocked how your eyes had glazed over, knowing exactly where your mind had wandered.

"Cut!" the video director's voice rang through the little studio, audibly more excited over the take compared to the last. "That was perfect, Tom. I think we got everything we need for your video." He rushed over to you, holding his hand out for you to shake. "You're phenomenal."

"That she is," Tom chirped up, taking his place by your side and settling his hand comfortably on your waist. "Always a blessing whenever we find ourselves able to work together."

"Have you ever thought of directing, Miss H? I'd be more than happy to share the co-directing credit on this with--"

"Ohh absolutely not," you cut him off, laughing the suggestion away. "Too much responsibility. Always happy to assist but I don't think I'll ever want that workload on my shoulders no matter what the scope or scale. I'm more than happy letting you sign this video off as fully yours. And those higher ups that left you those instructions would probably be very happy with you, too."

You saw how Tom craned his head to see the instructions that had been left for the video director, his hand tensing for a moment before his thumb stroked at your side, the motion soothing both of you.

"I'll let them know though that it wouldn't have been possible without your input, at least. Do you prefer Y/N H. or just Miss H?"

Oh I'm sure they'll love that, you thought to yourself, already imagining the bitter sneers this poor guy was about to witness. "You know what, just tell them Mrs. Hiddleston says 'you're welcome'."

A/N: Okay so we have 2 welcomes in this chapter…First welcome back to the Soccer Aid Collection. Apparently we're gonna have 2024 chapters added because I couldn't help myself so this thirst piece happened, and the chaos is probably gonna go down where I'm writing for both 2023 Soccer Aid and 2024 Soccer Aid at the same time because I am just…slow…lol

But anyways…welcome to the married era 😳🥹 I honestly have so much planned to get these blorbos to where they are right now, and I had a different chapter in mind to reveal to y'all that this is what we're working towards, but things happen, plans change…Tomathy walks out in that jersey with the long hair, gets me struggling not to say the d-word, and effectively derails those plans in the best way possible 😅🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[libingan]

i just graduated yesterday!!! and ive been having back pains since the morning before the graduation. even now, im still in pain dsajkds so i thought why not make a fic abt kyle giving reader a real nice massage😉😉😉!!! except, let’s make it male reader because why not????

um, idk how to do warnings and shit…

does this count as dubcon??? idk, theres a part where reader tries to stop him, but its very brief??? so im not sure????

just to be safe, ill tag it as dubcon bc i literally do not know SHDJWJSJW pls tell me if it is or isnt!!!

after a long, grueling day, you return to your barracks, each step sending a sharp twinge of pain through your lower back. a low grumble escapes you, cursing about how the weight of your gear feels like it’s compressing your spine and you can barely find the energy to unbuckle the heavy straps.

once you finally enter your room, you quickly drop the gear onto the floor, a loud sigh of relief escaping you, despite the lingering ache. you stretch lightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but it only causes you to wince in pain.

you trudged towards your bed, carelessly flopping onto the soft mattress. you didn’t even bother stripping off your clothes, too eager to finally get the rest you’ve been craving the whole day.

the silence in your barracks gives you time to think about the relentless duties your line of work brings. you love it, no doubt about that, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder why you love what you do when shit like this happens.

a heavy exhale leaves your lips, and just as you were about to finally get some sleep, a knock on your door disrupts your plans.

you groan loudly into your pillow, forcing yourself off the bed as you slowly made your way to the door, face scrunched up in discomfort as you rubbed your lower back.

once you reach the door, you twist the doorknob and pull it open, revealing your superior, sergeant kyle garrick. you blink at him in surprise. what the hell is he doing here?

“sergeant,” you greet him with a nod, “what brings you here?”

kyle nods back at you, walking into your barracks without a single word. he closes the door behind him before addressing you. “how’s your back?”

you’re caught off guard, not expecting him to notice. you straighten up at his question, the persistent ache in your back making itself known, but you’re determined not to show it.

“it’s… manageable,” you reply.

kyle hums, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion at your response. “manageable, you say?” he muses, “i’ve seen that wince. go get on the bed, lay on your stomach.”

“…what?”

the man standing in front of you sighs, ushering you towards the bed. “gotta make sure i keep the team in shape, yeah?”

surprisingly, you find yourself unable to resist the way kyle smiles so charmingly at you. with a sigh, you make sit by the edge of your bed. “do i keep my shirt on or—“

“take it off.” kyle immediately replies. he clears his throat right after, still smiling at you. “you can take it off, if you want. it’d make this easier for me if you did.”

you shrug, pulling off your shirt and hanging it by a nearby chair. kyle’s gaze flicker down your body, his eyes gleaming with… something. you can’t tell what, but it’s there. “good. lie down.”

you wordlessly comply, moving to lie on your stomach, just as kyle had instructed. he shuffles to straddle your hips, perching himself on your butt.

kyle places his hands on your back, working on the tight knots with practiced skills. his fingers are firm, yet gentle, kneading your sore muscles with rhythmic motion.

after a few moments, he pauses, “where do you want my hands?” he asks.

“low… a little lower, please… near the spine—fuuuuck, just like that…” you suck in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as kyle applies the perfect amount of pressure on that one spot.

“right here?” he moves his hands in slow, circular motions, pressing into the indicated spot.

“yesss… yes, right there,” you respond, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. as he continues to work his magical hands on the sore area, you can’t help but let out a few (a lot) of appreciative moans and groans. “feels so much better, holy shit,” you murmur, a soft hum leaving you.

kyle’s breathing hitches, and he tries to maintain his composure, but how can he? you sound so pretty, moaning from his simple touch. he can’t help it if he finds himself responding to the sound of your relief. the gentle sounds you make as he presses into the knots bring out an unwelcome reaction, stirring his arousal.

fuck, he can feel himself getting hard. kyle knows he should stop. he stills his hands, ready to pull away, but when he hears you whine out his name so softly…

he can’t help it when his hands travel lower, toying with the waistband of your jeans, wanting nothing more than to pull them off.

“…sergeant?” you call out, looking over you shoulder to catch his heated gaze. kyle gently shushes you, pressing his crotch against your clothed ass. “it’s okay. im gonna take care of you, i swear. just let me, okay?” he whispers, lifting up your hips enough to unbutton your jeans.

you try to push yourself up, but kyle tuts in disapproval, gently pushing you back down. “no. just stay down. be good for me, okay?”

“sergeant, we shouldn’t—“

“it’s kyle.” he quickly cuts you off, unzipping your jeans, slowly pulling them down. “remember that, yeah? wanna hear you moaning that name in a bit.”

his words send a rush of heat flowing through your veins, heading straight down to your cock. you mutter a few curses under your breath before lifting your hips up a little to give him more space to pull your jeans and boxers off.

“there we go…” kyle throws the clothes off the bed, his hands immediately kneading the soft flesh of your ass. “where have you been hiding this thing, man?” he teases, lightly slapping your cheek, watching it jiggle from the force.

you don’t even bother responding, only rolling your eyes at his comment. kyle chuckles at this, shaking his head in amusement.

“got nothing to say?” he gently parts your cheeks apart, licking his lips at the sight of your puckered hole. “fuckin’ hell…” he groans, feeling himself throb in his pants. “can i?”

you bury your head into your arms, nodding. you doubt kyle would take no for answer anyway.

without another word, kyle lowers his head, tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe across your hole, groaning at the taste.

you shiver from the sensation, a shaky sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to see kyle, eyes shut and brows knitted together, half of his face disappearing in between your ass cheeks as the tip of his tongue breaches your hole, circling the muscle before slowly prodding inside.

“kyle, wait, this is really dirty—fuck!” you moan again, burying your face into the pillows.

“s’not dirty, love, just let me make you feel good…” kyle mutters, pulling away to spit on your hole, watching the glob of saliva roll down to your balls. “lift your hips up f’me.”

you nod, raising your hips with the help of kyle’s hands. he gently pats your bum in approval before moving closer behind you, reaching in front of you to position two fingers to your lips. “suck.”

you eagerly take his long, slender fingers into your mouth, slobbering your spit all over the digits, drool slowly dripping down his palm. you swirled your tongue around his fingers, moaning when he catches the wet muscle with ease, pressing them down before pulling his hand away, causing you to whine from the loss.

“patience, boy,” he chuckles, planting kisses down your spine before spreading your ass cheeks once more with one hand. “relax, okay?”

you nod your head, trying to ease your mind as kyle’s fingers trace around the rim of your hole. “im going to push it in. take a deep breath for me, love.” he says, and you do as you’re told.

he smiles at your obedience, finger slowly sinking into your tight hole. kyle can’t see your face, so he relies on the sounds you make to know if you’re still enjoying this.

“how’s it feel?” he asks, pausing his movements momentarily. you swallow the lump in your throat, voice coming out shaky as you reply, “…w-weird, but you can… you can keep going.”

“good boy,” he praises, resuming the movement of his finger. once he finally sunk in the entirety of his finger, kyle stills himself, waiting for some sort of negative reaction.

all kyle gets in return is a needy whine for more leaving your lips.

he grins at that, sliding in the second finger into your crack. “how does it feel?”

“i feel like i’m about to take a fucking shit,” you grit your teeth, clenching around kyle’s

fingers.

“you aren’t, don’t worry.” kyle reassures you. “im gonna move, is that okay?”

when you finally give him the green light, he lets out a low chuckle, circling his fingers inside of you.

you shudder at the feeling, your aching back completely forgotten as kyle fucks you on his fingers.

“tell me how this feels,” kyle whispers, lightly pressing the pad of his fingers against a certain one spot that has you seeing fucking stars.

“oh, fuck—“ you gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your neglected cock leaking pre onto the sheets. “again. again. please.”

kyle smirks at that. you can’t see it, but you can already imagine the smug look on his face. “like this?” he asks, fingers curling against your prostate intently, determined to bring you over to the edge.

“yes! yes—oh my god-!” you mewl, hands going up to each side of your head to grab and twist at the pillow beneath you, knuckles turning white from your grip.

you bury your face into the pillow, muffling your moans, which have increased in volume with each curl of kyle’s fingers. the sergeant lets out a breathy laugh at the sight of you, lowering his head down to your ass before licking at the rim of your hole, his free hand moving to wrap around your cock, stroking it in time with his fingers.

“haah—fuck! fuck, kyle! please—i-i’m so—“ you try to speak.

“mmhm, just let go…” he mumbles, doubling his efforts.

you groan, muscles trembling as you try to keep your hips upright, head lolling down in between your arms. you can’t help but fuck yourself against him, biting the pillow in an attempt to stifle your moans.

“i-i’m almost—“ a broken moan leaves you, the coil in your stomach tightening, the pleasure running up your spine, and you know you can’t hold back any longer.

it’s then that kyle applies more pressure to your prostate, fisting your cock with renewed vigor. that’s all it takes for you to cum all over the sheets, your orgasm crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

your vision whitens temporarily as kyle continues curling his fingers, milking you for all your worth.

“kyle—i can’t, no,” you whimper, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure as he crosses the side of too much.

slowly and carefully, kyle pulls his head away, along with his fingers. he gently lets go of your softening cock, watching as you slump on the bed, exhausted.

he wipes his fingers off on his pants. it’s a little gross, but kyle doesn’t care too much about it.

“you okay?” kyle asks, using his clean hand — the one that wasn’t in your ass — to rub soft circles into your back.

“never been better,” you answer, panting heavily as you move your head to the side, looking over your soldier to see kyle’s concerned, but also slightly amused expression. “my back’s still aching.”

kyle lets out a hearty laugh at that, rolling his eyes playfully. “i’ll get to that later,” he says, pressing his clothed cock between your asscheeks. “i got something aching here too, love, and you owe me one.”

yeah, your back pain didn’t get any better after that.

[dilfluvrr10]

Joost x music journalist!reader where joost invites them for a show and they thinks its for work but actually he did it bc he likes them 🤭

Guysss I just wrote thisss. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written, pls pls pls feel free to send through any feedback good and bad. I really hope I managed to satisfy your request. Thank you <3

Lmk if you're interested in a Part 2

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮ The Interview ╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

I looked through my closet unsure of what to wear, do I go concert or casual tonight? This was going to be huge for my career, interviewing THE Joost Klein, so of course I was stressing over every detail. I settled on a classic little black dress, nothing too much, enough to make a good first impression. I glanced at the time repeatedly while doing my makeup, the closer it crept to 7:00pm, the more anxiety started eating at me. I packed my bag and drove to the venue, practicing each and every question, my facial expressions, my laugh, my smile, every detail. I admit, Joost was an attractive man, a confident man, and a great musician, maybe that’s why I was so worked up. That’s definitely why I was so worked up. I’d been following Joost’s career before his stardom reached an all time high after Eurovision, I had to remind myself to keep my composure and leave any fangirling behind.

When I received the invitation I was absolutely thrilled, jumping up and down like I was a teenage girl again. However, it was different from the usual press releases I’ve received, addressed to me specifically instead of my publication. Despite my usual professional demeanour, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. When I finally arrived at the venue my anticipation only intensified. I glanced in the rear view mirror one last time, ensuring every hair was in place, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. I had been instructed to enter through the same way production entered and meet Joost in the green room before he was expected on stage. Backstage was buzzing, ensuring everything for tonight’s performance was perfect. I navigated through the organized chaos, my heart pounding with each step closer to the green room.

There he was sitting around a table laughing and joking with his friends in Dutch. “Heyyy you’re here! I’m so happy you came”, his signature smile plastered on his face causing one of my own in response. He told his friends we were doing an interview and to so kindly leave, each one greeting me with that European charm before exiting the room. He gestured for me to sit down where comfortable. He sat loosely on the couch, adorned in black jeans, a white button up paired with a black tie and his signature thick rimmed glasses and gloves to tie it all together. God black was his colour. His cuffs rolled up, revealing a scatter of tattoos on his forearms and biceps. I sat on the chair closest to him but not on the couch next to him, trying to keep it as professional as possible. I really wanted to squeal, ask him for a photo and tell him all about how much his music resonated with me.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, I really appreciate this Joost”, my nerves slipped away as we began talking, his energy warm and inviting. “No, no, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now actually…” his words hung in the air, his eyes darted around my face as if he was unsure how I would react. “Really, you know me?” I was stunned by the idea of Joost being aware of my work. A soft smile played at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “You’re works amazing, you have this way of talking to people that just…opens them up, you know?”, the sincerity of his words hit me hard. My heart fluttered and I felt my professionalism slowly decay. He shifted in his seat adjusting his pants and clearing his throat. He was feeling the change of mood too. As I thought of something to say to change the subject I noticed his gaze kept falling to my lap. My dress had lifted a bit, my thighs exposed a little. I began to feel hot and bothered, my cheeks burning red, his subtle smirk didn’t escape my notice, only adding to my discomfort. He clocked on to my embarrassment, shamefully, it fed him with confidence. “I used to watch your videos on YouTube, when you were working independently. Seeing you now here in front of me…you’ve really, grown up” he cooed with a meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the rush of heat that grew in my body. “Thank you Joost, that means a lot coming from you,” I replied, hoping to steer the conversation back to professional grounds. “So, how are you feeling about tonight’s concert? Any pre-show rituals?”

He chuckled, the sound sultry and pleasant. “Just hanging out with my friends, like you saw. We try to keep it light and fun. Music is about connecting with people, so I try to keep that spirit alive before I go on stage.” I nodded, jotting down notes even though I recorded interviews on my phone. It was more to keep my hands busy and give me something to focus on other than his heavy gaze. Our conversation flowed easily after that, and the interview wrapped up nicely. He stood up, offering his hand to help me up from the chair. His touch was warm, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad we finally got to meet,” his eyes held mine for a heartbeat longer before he glanced away, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour.

Just then, one of his crew members popped their head into the room, announcing that it was time for Joost to get ready. He turned to me, his smile back in full force. “Enjoy the show. I’ll make sure you have a great view.”

I smiled back, my heart fluttering again. “I’m sure I will.”

[sneeblbop]

Sneeb’s (reworked) commission sheet !!

Emergency comms to pay bills / medical fees / therapy / etc etc

I won't go into much detail because I've already done so several times, but basically i need extra help with affording basic necessities!! ^__^

(instructions on how to comm will be all the way on the bottom, but read through the post before commissioning pls!! Here r all the price details)

STATUS: OPEN

*Prices are subject to change depending on complexity / amount of characters, and I have the right to decline anything I don't want to draw !!

WILL do -

Furry/anthro

Robots/mecha (if it's too complex i may decline)

Humans

Animals

fanart/ocs/ships

Minorly suggestive stuff

WONT do -

Proship (pedo, zoo, incest, etc)

Nsfw / Fetish

Complex backgrounds

Hate symbols

Real people

Gore

*if you're unsure on if i'll draw something, don't be afraid to ask!!

Examples:

Instructions / General rules and info:

You will either send me an ask, or comment on this post to notify me that you are interested in commissioning me. This step is important so that i know to check my google forms !!

After doing this, you will fill out this form.

The form will tell you what to tell me so that i can start on your commission.

Once i read through your form and determine whether or not i want to take this commission, i will tell you by responding to your ask/comment. (edit: im shadowbanned atm bc i changed my email, so ill let you know if i accepted your comm via email / ask so you get a notif!!)

Once you know that ive actually accepted this, then you can pay me. Payment is done upfront, on my kofi.

Once i get your payment, i will start drawing as soon as i get the time. This time can vary because i am still in school!

Once i am done, i will send the finished commission to you via email/account that you have provided for me in the form.

If you need any corrections, you can send me an ask/comment and ill dm you to get it figured out. (prices may vary depending on how big of a change you want).

[cuntressgoingdigital]

hi hi it’s og anon who begged for more mma!abby - will have to come up with a name/emoji for myself (if you do emoji anons that is) bc i have so many thoughts <3 personally im thinking ab the scene in super rich kids where r and abby sneak off and abby gets sooooo shy when r goes down on her. like abby is a baby gay. never been with a woman, and it seemed like that really wasn’t something she considered up until recently. i love to think about abby growing more confident as the weeks/months go by - where she doesn’t feel so shy when you’re in control and she feels more comfortable being in control. she’s so dominant in the octagon and at first that didn’t really transfer over. but like all athletes: if she wants something, she’ll work hard at it, and she definitely wants you

ps im thinking of signing off as 🪷, thoughts?? pls tell me if im being annoying 😭

omg ofc i dont mind emoji anons!! i'm so glad you enjoyed it enough to actually send an ask <3

but, on that note! let's talk about the first time you and abby had sex after the party

cw: nsfw (obviously)

click here for my series masterlist.

i imagine it’s soooo hard for her to acclimate to her feelings. i doubt she ever brings up the fact that she’s never been with a woman, and you don’t feel a need to ask. all the pressure and embarrassment she feels is entirely of her own creation. 

she’s mostly scared of disappointing you. after all the strife you went through trying to get her attention, she didn’t want it to all be in vain. at this point, outside of what went down at the party that night, all that had happened was private flirting while the two of you were on opposite ends of the world. when your schedules finally line up and you invite her to your house for a few days, abby knows she has to get her shit together. the only issue is, there’s not really a way to study for these sorts of things. she knew what she liked, but that was about it. there was no one for her to ask or confide in, so she’s battling this demon all on her own. 

when the time came and you sat on the edge of your bed, carefully clipping your fake nails off and filing them down, abby knew it was now or never. she awkwardly excused herself to run to the bathroom and sat in there for nearly ten minutes trying to gather her bearings. 

the sight she saw when she stepped back into your bedroom made her heart stop. you were in the prettiest black lace lingerie adorned with bows and the sweetest smile on your face. 

“you alright?” was all you felt comfortable asking. you didn’t want an already obviously tense situation to turn into something worse because you decided to pry a little too much. you can’t scare the poor girl off.

abby nodded and moved to approach you. she felt ridiculously underdressed in her grey sweatpants and black t-shirt, but had a sneaking suspicion that that was the last thing on your mind. 

this time you knew you had to allow her to assume the dominant position first. well, dominant is a stretch, because you knew you had full control over the situation. there was no way that girl was going to do anything without you asking (read: telling) her to, but you figured the illusion of control would help her work her way towards actually being confident in this position. 

when she carefully slides her two fingers inside of you and feels how wet you are, she finally feels focused. in her world, this was the equivalent of touching gloves at the beginning of a match. 

she was dialed into every single noise you made. every moan, whimper, and swear that came out of your mouth was an affirmation that she was doing something right. 

the second you whisper, “now, curl your fingers inward.” she does just that. any and all instruction you gave was immediately applied. you had to give the girl some credit. she was a fast learner. 

when your breathing picked up and your head was thrown back against the pillow, abby took it as a sign to pick up her pace a bit. her thumb brushed your clit and you whined,

“more of that. keep doing that.” 

she nodded wordlessly, absolutely terrified that anything she might say would ruin the moment. 

when you’re finally panting and breathing out her name in between a slew of swears, she knew you were close. the feeling of you finally clenching around her fingers and releasing had her feeling a high almost comparable to a win in the octagon. 

over the next couple days that you’re together you two are fucking like it would be the last time you ever got to touch each other. to be fair, you honestly didn’t know the next time you’d have the time to come see her. dinner reservations were cancelled in favor of laying on top of each other, sweaty and sore, after another intense round of sex. you had made her cum more times in 48 hours than anyone had in her entire life. this was a far more pleasurable experience than any training retreat she had ever been on.

by the end of it, abby felt like a pro. she knew exactly how to read your body language and what pleased you. even better, she was actually able to laugh during sex. no awkward moment lasted very long because the two of you would always bust out laughing by the end of it. 

“how the fuck does this even work?” abby was standing by your bedside fumbling with the fasteners of the strap on. 

you laid on the bedside, doing your best to inspect the buckles. “i don’t fucking know, i just bought it.” 

the two of you spend so much time giggling that it takes at least twenty minutes for you both to calm down and get back to the task at hand. 

and let me tell you, this girl is a strap warrior. this is where she feels the most in control. buried deep inside of you, chest pressed against yours, your now blunt nails digging into her back. she loves looking you in the eyes. one of the only times you’ll pout and look away, feeling some semblance of shyness. 

when all was said and done, the both of you packed your bags and took a taxi to the airport together. she was on her way back to salt lake, and you were on your way to LAX for your layover on the way to tokyo. 

you entered the airport at 4AM, hand in hand, and gave her a kiss that you wished would last for ages. neither of you wanted to let the other go.

“text me when you land, okay?” you blow her one last kiss. 

unfortunately, neither of you realized someone in the airport had recognized you and snapped a photo. every tabloid magazine would be up your ass for the next week, but it was worth it.