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joelmillerisapunk · 4 months

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Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 7,103 - oops

Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.

Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel’s never been on a site like this.

But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.

With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.

As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.

Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.

His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?

Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.

For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.

Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.

Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.

Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.

Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.

—

A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.

When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.

Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."

You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"

You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."

You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.

You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."

You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."

As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”

As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.

As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.

He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.

He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.

A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.

you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?

He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.

You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.

you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏

You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.

cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.

You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.

cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.

you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.

cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.

you: I can't wait.

As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.

—

As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.

You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ

The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.

With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.

you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉

You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.

Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.

cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?

you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉

You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.

cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.

you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏

cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.

You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!

cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’

what I'm about to send you.

you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉

cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘

As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.

The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.

You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response

you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.

As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.

cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.

You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.

you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉

cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.

As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.

The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

—

As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.

Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief

"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”

You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.

You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”

Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.

Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”

Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.

As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.

You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.

With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.

He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.

As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."

You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.

As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.

The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.

Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.

You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."

Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.

Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.

You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.

You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.

"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"

“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."

"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”

Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.

You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.

"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”

With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.

—

The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.

He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.

Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.

Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.

And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.

“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."

Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.

"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.

Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.

He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”

Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.

Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.

"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.

"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."

With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.

As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."

Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.

“You're gonna make me come.”

You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.

The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.

You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."

With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"

Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.

As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"

Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."

Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.

"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.

You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.

Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.

For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.

Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"

Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."

You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.

Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."

Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.

Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”

You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."

You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.

As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.

You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.

Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.

Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."

You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.

As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.

When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.

Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."

Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?

Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.

Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."

Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."

You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"

He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."

With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.

As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."

You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”

And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.

Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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taeyongdoyoung · 28 days

Text

hide and seek

summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k

Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?

He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.

“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.

The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.

The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...

What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.

“Chris, please…”

Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.

Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.

Unless…

He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.

“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.

“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.

The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.

“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.

“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.

You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?

“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”

“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.

“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”

“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”

“It really isn’t…” you confess.

“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.

“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”

“Um, sure, why not?”

You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.

“I’m in.”

“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”

“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”

“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”

Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.

“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”

“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”

“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.

“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”

His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.

“If you find me,” you tease.

“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”

You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.

“Sixty…fifty-nine…”

Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.

Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”

Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.

“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.

You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.

“Last chance. Run.”

But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.

“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…

“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.

“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”

“Sure, that’s fine by me.”

“Sorry for ruining the mood.”

Chan shakes his head.

“You could never.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.

“Scene?”

“Scene.”

“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”

If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?

“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.

Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.

“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.

You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…

As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.

His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.

You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.

“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.

“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.

“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.

Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.

“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.

“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.

“You feel good?”

“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.

“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”

“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”

Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.

“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.

“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.

“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.

“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”

“Action?”

“Action,” you confirm.

Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.

“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.

He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.

Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.

“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.

You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”

You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.

“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.

Wait, what did you just say?

“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.

You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.

Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.

“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”

Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?

“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.

“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.

“Better than your fantasies?”

“You have no idea.”

“So…when can we do something like this again?”

“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”

Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.

Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.

“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.

“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”

“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”

“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”

To be continued…

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

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astrasng · 25 days

Text

SCRATCH || BANGCHAN

MINORS DNI!

pairing: idol!chan x female!reader

summary: thanks to chan's solo stage you finally made him yours.

warnings: blood (from scratches obv), handjob, spanking, petnames (baby, honey, angel, sweetheart) unprotected sex, cursing

author's note: from my previous breakdown post bc of chan got me in an inspired mood so i made a little somethin somethin. still what the fuck was he thinking. also, if you're a regular reader by any chance (ily) you might have noticed i write jealousy tropes, IDKK WHY THO SORRY

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!

It isn’t like you’re not supportive of your boyfriend. You’ve always been there for every idea, even if you thought that it wasn’t the best one. The things you have to deal with him being an idol settled deep into your mind, already accepting the consequences that may come in the way. But it’s not like you would ever give up your relationship with Chan just because he’s doing risky things that you may not like.

To be honest, it kind of became an advantage for you.

You would watch him having fun on stage with the other members, sometimes splashing water at each other, making everyone in the crowd either cheer or laugh at their silly behavior. There were times when they got sentimental, wishing all the happiness for STAY and the members for the future. It made you emotional just in the same way as you would watch them through the TV in your shared apartment.

And then there were times where you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together and wait for him.

“Had fun today?”

The sarcastic tone caught Chan’s attention as he’s doing his everyday night routine, just as he’s finishing up his shaving session. He knows exactly why you’re talking and reacting to him this way, you’ve been all fidgety with him since he got home from the first day of the tour, and when he stepped inside the apartment he saw you still sitting on the couch, not welcoming him in with the usual hug he gets.

Chan looks a little bit to the side so he can get a reflection of you changing in the room, the towel you used laying on the ground after taking a shower. Without him.

“Of course.It’s always heartwarming to meet with STAY’s. And the kids were so hyped about getting solo stages too.”

Now that just boils your blood.

“Oh, were they?” You keep your back facing him,not letting him see how frustrated you really are about the game he’s playing. “They were doing an amazing job indeed.” You shut your eyes momentarily before putting on your velvet nightgown, and slowly walking towards the bathroom where your boyfriend is staying.

“Yeah, I assume you saw mine too, right? Did you see the special makeup they did on me?” With pride he chuckles while putting away his shaving equipment, patting his dry as he picks up his toothbrush. His question should have a very easy and simple answer, yet here you are ready to give him a brainwash about not caring about your mental health. Cause what the hell was that? You can’t even form the offensive words you want to say to him out of frustration, you could never say anything negative about his performances in general — but the way he’s talking about it, so full of himself, you can’t help yourself. “I wonder who made all that.” It slips out, biting down on your lip softly to stop yourself from further embarrassment.

“It must’ve been the makeup artist of course, but I could’ve done a better job if you ask me.” You step into the bathroom just as you finish your sentence, Chan unable to answer due to his mouth full with mint scented bubbles.

As you want to pass behind him, you swipe your delicate fingers on his defined back muscles, the photos of him painted in scratches for the performance fills your vision.

“Makeup was unnecessary,to be honest.”

There’s something glinting in Chan’s eyes as a lopsided smile appears on his face, looking at you through the mirror placed above the bathroom counter. As the words leave your lips, he licks his plump lips slowly, putting away his toothbrush he just used. “If I had asked you, would you do it?”

The air stops suddenly in your throat,taking your eyes off of him as you busy yourself with something else infront of you. “Well…it doesn’t matter now.”

“Oh it does, honey.” Chan says lowly, his voice suddenly closer as you want it to, and you know perfectly he’s only a step away from you. “If I only knew my baby just wanted to help me out in my solo,” He snakes his arms around your waist slowly, his bare chest pressing into your clothed back as he’s standing behind you, whispering in your ear. “I could’ve used some help.” With that, he pressed a slow open mouth kiss on the side of your neck. his hands caressing the skin on your stomach.

“Should we recreate it and show it to my makeup artist?”

Chan whispers against your ear, biting down slightly on your earlobe as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You look already disheveled just from his touch, your nightgown scrunched slightly up as he kneads your stomach, one of his hands slowly inching up to your breasts. “Would you like that, baby?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chan – mhphm…” A small moan leaves your lips as he pinches your nipple in his slender fingers, continuing to make out with your neck as you try and compose yourself.

“How did you mean it then?” He grunts out as you push your backside on his crotch, his cock twitching already in his sleeping pants at the thought of you being jealous. “Tell me.”

“I–I just…” You try to form words, keeping yourself together and not yet falling for his words but then Chan sneakily slides his other down towards your waiting heat, his finger immediately meeting with slickness between your pussy lips. He groans again, grinding into your ass to ease the pain from being so hard. “Baby, if you want to scratch my back that badly just say it.” There’s something hiding behind his words which makes you shut your eyes from the pleasure he’s causing, your hands flying on the counter for support. “I kind of…wanted to..” Your breath hitches, cutting off your sentence when Chan flips your nightgown upwards to expose your wet pussy, your naked ass on display in front of him as he takes his hand away from your breast and caresses one of your cheeks. “You wanted what? Do you need some help darling?” He grunts under his breath when he feels you clench around his fingers, plugging it in and out to take your breath away. You moan out when you feel his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch.

But Chan doesn’t give in that easily.

You suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of your cheeks, moaning out shamelessly from the sensation he just caused with his hand. When you pick your head up you see Chan already looking at you through the mirror, lust filled eyes raking over your already fucked out face. “Say it baby.”

You can feel his hand smoothing over the place he just spanked, the air in the bathroom so humid you can feel yourself getting sweaty again. His finger never stopped working inside you, with that spank almost knocking you over the edge.

When Chan doesn’t see you changing your mind and aófinally answers him, he only clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. Without a second thought, he slaps your ass again, his finger circling around your clit rapidly when he hears your pornographic moans echoing in the bathroom.

“I–I wanted to mark you!”

And there it is.

As you practically moan out the words, Chan’s finger is coated thickly with your cum as his words made you tip over the edge. Your whole body shaking in his arms as you come down your high slowly, trying to gather your thoughts and realizing what you just said.

When the words finally leave your mouth he can’t help but smirk, the possessive side of you finally showing for the first time in your relationship. “And why is that honey?” Chan teases you, seeing your ears red from the sudden confession you just made.

“Just so everyone knows that you’re mine..” You mumble quietly, shame overcoming you as it paints your cheeks deep red.

Something snaps inside Chan. He can’t help but groan out, his cock painfully hard against his pants as he turns you around and places his hands on your throat, slightly adding pressure on it. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall, his lips already chasing yours.

“Do it baby.” He kisses you, his tongue sneaks through his lips to taste your lip balm you applied earlier he loves so much. “I want you to do your worst on me,” He whispers between kisses, his hand suddenly picking you up to put your legs around his waist. Your whole body welcomes him, your mouth opens as he slides his tongue inside once again, and your fingers landing into his freshly washed hair as he devours your lips. His hand scrunches up your gown once again before he presses his hardness into your slick core.

At the contact you moan out loudly, already wanting him inside you, to ease your pain that he caused.

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours. Nobody else has that but you.”

With a whine you throw your head on the wall, Chan’s lips continuing to leaves red splotches on your sensitive skin as he takes his hand and pushes down his boxers, hissing out the minute the air hits his precum covered cock, tip red from all the waiting and veins bulging with excitement.

He drags his wet tip over your puffy lips, spreading them open more to make room for himself when he circles around your clit. As he slides his length between your folds, you feel all emotions gather up inside you, the feeling too hazy as your vision becomes blurry from the need. “Channie,,please..”

“‘s okay baby,I’ll give it to you.” He chants when he finally pushes his tip inside you, groaning out from you uncontrollably clenching around his cock when he nearly settles halfway in. “You have to relax,angel. You make it impossible for me to–”

“Chan — I’m so sorry, I–” He hears you gasp out, your body all tensed up, your eyes wide open as you look into the mirror across you. He looks swiftly behind him to see your naked bodies melted into one, and then it catches his eye.

With one thrust he settles fully inside you, moaning from how incredibly tight you are around his length, keeping himself back to not buckle into you rapidly. He puts his hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes and not on his blood covered back. “I asked you to do this, right?” With a softened gaze, he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, not taking his eyes off of you until he sees your lust filled expression again instead of worry ones. “Right baby?”

“Y-yes..” You gulp when you see your fingers slightly covered in red around his neck. “But I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fucking hot.” He hisses, his voice whinier than usual as he puts his forehead on your chest, his hips starting to move. “You did such a great job sweetheart.” He pulls completely out before thrusting into you again, this time harsher as he hears your cries next to his ears.

When you take another look in the mirror, you see what you just caused. The moment you felt his cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't help but deepen your nails into his skin on his broad back, now covered with blood here and there. It softly dribbles down his defined muscles, and Chan is right. It is fucking hot.

So you clench around him again when you feel his fingers circling around your clit, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he moans out your name. “Do it again.” He demands, his hand flying on the wall next to your head to thrust up harder into you, making you roll your eyes. As you see Chan so deeply in emotions you scratch his back again, now only deep redness showing on his pale skin.

The pain on his skin makes him inch closer to his release. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your hips are quickening, becoming more erratic, intense and desperate. You cry out his name nonstop, feeling him twitching inside you.

“Give it to me.” He’s breathless as he chants into the side of your neck. “I need you to come around my cock baby.”

His demand tips you over the edge again, moaning out his name as you feel him curl against you, his shoulders on display for you to see what you painted on his back. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure as he paints your insides with his thick cum, feeling so full of him, feeling him everywhere. Chan bites down softly on your skin,kissing the pain away quickly as you both come down from this high.

You are his. He made sure a long time ago, but now, you made sure he was yours too as you watch the crimson red blood slowly sliding down his back, gathering it on your fingers.

“It took a solo stage for you to claim me as yours?” Chan asks when he softly puts you down on the bathroom counter, a bright smile painting his face once again.

like and reblog is much appreciated! ♡

divider by:@enchanthings

#kpop #bangchan #skz #straykids #straykids bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #chan what the actual fuck were you thinking #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids dominate #skz world tour

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catssluvr · 25 days

Text

𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅, spencer reid

spencer reid x roommate!reader

in which everybody’s falling in love and you’re falling behind or you come back from an awful date and spencer comforts you. well, he does his best

warnings: kinda sad for a bit, r really wants to be loved, two idiots in love <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You take off your shoes as soon as you reach your apartment's floor, exhaustion taking over. One hand reaches inside the bag to pull of the keys and the other rubs against your face one more time. You're sure your mascara is all smudged already. Not that you would ever cry for someone like that, but you don't think you've heard someone talk about their car as much as him and it honestly made you get sleepy.

You regret accepting to go on a blind date, deeply. It's never been your thing so why did you decide it was a good idea?

The truth is that it's hard to watch all of your friends fall in love and brag about their happy relationships when you don't even know how it feels to truly be loved. It's also not great that you're in love with your roommate when it's clearly not reciprocate. You have so much love to give, so why can't you find love as well?

Besides, the guy you just went out with is a total jerk. He made at least four sex jokes before the drinks arrived and bragged about his career for about half of the time (the other half was about his car). As soon as dinner was over you practically bolted out the restaurant, ignoring his comment about a 'second desert'. It's safe to say you never want to see him again.

Unlocking the door with a sigh, you are met with the sight of Spencer sitting comfortably on the couch with a book in his hands. You curse inside your head, it's not that you don't want to see him. In fact, you think he looks absolutely adorable in a sweatshirt all curled up in his seat. But you don't want him to see you like this, it's obvious your date didn't go well.

"Hey, you're home early." His voice is laced with fatigue. He leaves the book behind and approaches you, his signature smile in full display.

"Yep." You use all your strength to give him a smile back. You don't want to be unpleasant with him just because of a not so great date. Turning your back to him just as fast to place your shoes on the shoe rack.

"How did it go?" He asks tentatively and you frown at the way he seems nervous to know the answer.

"Uh- not great." You decide to not elaborate it, all you want right now is to bury yourself in your bed covers and cry.

"Oh, i'm sorry." You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, you really don't want his pity. What you miss is the way a sparkle of what looks like relief flashes across his eyes. Before you can dismiss yourself he adds, "You know, given half a billion potential soulmates, the chances of finding your true love on a blind date are one in ten thousand."

As much as you want to tell him that's not necessarily what you need to hear right now, you don't feel like you have enough strength to do it. You know he's mostly trying to comfort you and he's just really not an expert when it comes to emotions.

"Yeah, i guess so." You answer and it's now his time to frown. You're usually way more excited to hear about his statistics. "I'm just gonna go to my room. Night, Spence." And then you're scrambling to your room, closing the door behind you before he can have a reaction.

Exhaling deeply, you throw your bag somewhere in the room and move to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and quickly discard your clothes to the floor, feeling immediately better when the warm water hits your skin.

Stepping out, you get yourself into some comfy sweats and a large old shirt before rushing through your skincare. Not bothering to dry your hair, you slip under the covers with a content hum. You can't help but imagine how it would be better if Spencer was laying with you, it would be tempting to curl up against his sweatshirt and forget about all of your problems.

Snapping out of your daze, you grab your laptop and settle for a comfort show that you know will help you relax. Your stomach grumbles slightly in hunger and you now realize how you had barely touched your food at dinner. Ignoring it anyway because the chances of you leaving your bed for the rest of the night are very low.

A gentle knock sounds from your door and you grumble, dragging yourself to open it. But as soon as you do, regret fills you for getting annoyed at all. There stands Spencer, wide and concerned eyes staring at you.

Now you take a moment to actually look at him and not just his sweatshirt. His hair is mussed by his position in the couch, his mismatched socks peeking from his sweatpants and his lanky hands hold a bowl of mac and cheese and a can of your favorite soda - like he's read your mind. It just reminds you of a few of the reasons to why you're so head over heels for him. He can read you like a book without having to profile you.

Sometimes you wonder how you're ever even going to get over him. Since becoming his roommate a year ago, this was the first time you had gone out on a date. It's not that you didn't want to go on dates, not being the most outgoing person came with it's liabilities. But you always thought going out with someone would make you forget about Spencer. Turns out it just made you realize how perfect he is compared to any other guy.

"I-I just thought maybe this could cheer you up. I know i wasn't much of a help." He smiles sheepishly, standing awkwardly on his feet. Your heart clenches at remembering how you dismissed him earlier.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to." You smile back kindly, looking at him with nothing but adoration.

He clears his throat nervously, "You know- uh- there's a study that says hugs slow down the heart rate and decreases the level of cortisol, the stress hormone. In turn, it makes people feel relaxed and safe." He stutters along his words.

You can't help but chuckle at his peculiar way of offering a hug. "A hug would be great, Spence." You say as you take the food from his and settle it somewhere on your bed. Returning quickly to stand by him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder with no hesitation.

He visibly relaxes at that, nose burying in your head and breathing in lightly. His sweatshirt really does feel just as soft as it looks. He squeezes you, hard enough to pull a giggle out of you but somehow affectionately.

You find yourself not wanting to pull away, a dramatic pout forming in your mouth when you force yourself to do it.

"You wanna make me company while i eat? We can watch Star Trek." Your fingers move almost involuntarily to untangle his curls as you speak.

He nods eagerly before mumbling, "Yes, but we're watching Friends. Last time i picked so we should watch something you like this time." Before he's walking to your bed, sitting comfortably with the covers to his lap.

You almost blush at the thought of him wanting to watch your favorite sitcom with you.

When you join him in bed, he's already setting up the show on your laptop and your heart almost bursts at how comfortable you feel with it, with him.

You eat your mac and cheese, occasionally offering him a few bites.

You feel a weight on your shoulder and turn to see Spencer with his cheek pressed up against it comfortably. You question if he feels sleepy but his he looks wide awake, gaze fixated on the screen in front of you.

Your thoughts drift again as you look at him. You question if maybe this i all just a silly crush because he's so nice to you. But you really don't think you're supposed to be thinking about a silly crush on a date with another guy.

Or maybe you just need to tell him. Maybe if you confess it to him it'll be easier for you. It wouldn't be a secret anymore and even though he doesn't feel the same, a weight would be lifted off your shoulders. You don't really get to think much about it before the words are spilling out of your mouth.

"Spencer?" You call gently and he answers with a small hum, not moving from his position on your shoulder. "I only went on that date because of you." You admit, heart breaking when you feel him tense up and sit up.

"Why- What do you mean?" His brows furrow in confusion.

"I only went on a date because i thought it would help me get over my feelings for you, turns out i'm way too in love for that. And i'm sorry, i know it's one sided. But can we please keep being friends? I promise i can pretend we didn't have this talk- i just needed to get it off my chest." You feel your eyes grow wet as the words come out, imagining the worse scenarios possible. It's already bad enough to feel like you're never going to experience true love, you don't want to lose your best friend too.

"You think i don't love you?" Spencer seems even more confused now, but he looks at you more gently than ever. His eyes glow with the dim yellow light and you find it hard to concentrate on his words.

"Not the way i do, Spence." You breath out, eyes fully glassy now and you're sure that anything can cause you to fall apart now.

"I leave you coffee and a note every morning, i've read all of your favorite books just so i could learn about your interests, i got an email just so you could send me videos of cats and i don't feel disgusted with the idea of eating your food or giving you hugs - not at all." He pauses before adding, "You think i don't love you?" He asks again, just as gentle as before - if not more. It's more of an affirmation then a question.

"Oh." You can't help but feel like you've been blind for all this time. You were so stuck with thinking that you would never find someone you could comfortably show your love for that you didn't notice he was right there, right under the same roof.

"I'm such an idiot." You chuckle, rubbing the tears off your eyes with the back of your hands.

"You are. But i'm also a complete idiot for never doing anything about it." He grinned sweetly, moving to sit closer and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Hm, how 'bout i kiss you, you kiss me back, and we call it even?" You play with the long sleeves of his sweatshirt, smile mirroring his.

Spencer's cheeks redden as he pretends to think before he lets out a chuckle of his own, "I'm in."

You have to contain your smile when you lean closer, lips finally touching his after waiting for so long. And now that you get to do it, you don't think you ever want to stop. His hands gently hold your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks in the softest way, as if you can break with anything.

It doesn't last as long as you would have wished, both your smiles getting in the way.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

#Spotify #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #fluff

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runningthroughthegarden · 5 months

Text

dumb young love

1.9k words, summary: when art leaves you in the dust for tashi, a part of you breaks. after an argument art realizes how desperately in love he is with you.

request from @fangirlinc :)

you had gone and done the one thing everyone had warned you not to do. you had fallen in love with your best friend. i mean how could you not? he was handsome, charming, talented, funny, everything you could want in a man and more. you both had such bright futures ahead of you and just loved being in each others company. which is why you never felt the need to profess your love to him. but lately you've been rethinking this choice.

you obviously knew how close art and patrick were, i mean you guys all practically grew up with each other. this dynamic never really bothered you, why would it? that all changed once tashi came into the picture.

you had been there, at the match where it all started. you had come to support them like you always had, but within those few days something had shifted and you had no idea why. suddenly the boys were ditching you to go to a party you didn't even know they cared about.

they had come back to you the next day, raving about how amazing tashi was and the night they spent together. you noticed a glint in art’s eye that wasn't there before, and you tried your hardest to suppress the jealousy you were feeling.

that day, when patrick won the match, you couldn't help but feel relieved that art would remain yours just for a little longer. what you didn't realize is that art didnt care if patrick was with tashi, because he was still head over heels for her.

“hey are we gonna have dinner tonight?” you ask, throwing another tennis ball over the net.

“yeah, just gotta get back to my room and shower” art replies, hitting back the ball with a distraught look on his face.

“is it tashi?” you sigh.

“what? no-no. i'm just stressed about my next match” he replies, walking over to the bench.

“you're art donaldson. you’re never stressed about a match. c'mon just tell me” you say as you walk over to him.

“its just. patrick called and all he can fucking talk about is how amazing tashi is. and then i walk around campus and all i hear is how amazing tashi is. no matter what i do i can’t escape her.” he confesses, putting his head in his hands.

“i can’t imagine you ever wanting to escape her” you reply, letting out a forced laugh.

“what?”

“cmon art, from the day you lost that match it’s like your entire world changed or something. i mean all of a sudden your whole life revolves around this girl” you scoff.

“y/n i really don’t need this shit from you, i’ll see you later” he scoffs, picking up his bag and leaving the court.

“art!” you call out, only for him to leave you there alone.

standing there you think back to when everything was fine. how art would link his pinky with yours as you walked. the way he would call you everyday when he had to travel for matches. the nights you spent in his dorm trying to cram week's worth of studying into one night. the way he would so effortlessly plant kisses to your forehead. the moments you thought he might actually be in love with you. but now all you had were those memories.

before you knew it, all art was doing was hanging out and helping tashi train. he had been your training partner first, so it hurt like hell to be left in the dust. you decided to try and let it go and focus on winning your matches. your most important match was coming up and you couldn't let your silly love life get in the way. the one person you had always dreamed of being coached by was going to be at your match. so you knew you had to train like crazy to get to work with them.

a part of you was hoping maybe art would see how amazing your match would be, and finally start paying attention to you again. but you knew you were holding onto false hope.

the day of your match had finally come, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. this was such an important moment for your career and you couldn't shake those nerves. but you knew seeing art up in the stands would give you the boost of confidence you needed.

the first set was about to start and you still didn’t see art in the stands. you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought that he might not show up. he would never do that to you. right?

the first set had started and for a moment, the world around you started to fade. you may have hated tashi, but man was she right about tennis. you were performing flawlessly and you knew all the hard work was finally going to pay off.

after winning your first set, you go back to your seat, taking a breather and still scanning the crowd for art. he was still nowhere to be found and you could feel your sadness turning into anger. deciding to use that as fuel, you prepare yourself for your next set. the rest of the game goes flawlessly and you know this is the best you have ever played.

hitting the winning point, you stand in shock as cheers come from the stands. thanking your opponent you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face. that is until you spot art in the stands. you could feel all the anger and resentment you suppressed fighting to be released. this had been your best game yet, and there art was, to ruin it.

packing up your bag, you felt a presence behind you. all spectators and coaches were long gone so you knew exactly who was behind you. turning around to face art, you push past him not wanting to hear a word he has to say.

“y/n please i-” art calls out, quickly catching up with you.

“you what art?!” you yell, turning around to face him.

“you forgot? you had homework? you lost track of time? oh better yet, maybe you were with tashi?” you continue, looking up at him. you could feel hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

he stays silent and thats all the answer you need.

“oh my god you were” you whisper, stepping back from him.

“please just let me explain” art pleads, a look of desperation you’d never seen before.

“today was the most important day to me. and i really thought that as my best friend you would at least care a little more. but i know where your priorities lay. and i'm done fighting for a spot i’ll never get” you say as tears quickly spill onto your cheeks.

art’s hand reaches up to brush away your tears, but you step back.

“stay the fuck away from me art” you choke out, quickly walking back to your room.

the next few days were hell. spending each day crying in your bed, you had lost not only the love of your life but your best friend. you had gotten a call offering to be coached by someone you could only ever dream of working with. you should’ve felt happy, ecstatic even, but the last conversation you had with art was still ringing through your head. he had called you far too many times and texted you even more. but you had ignored every single one. the first day he came knocking on your door, but gave up after an hour of waiting. the apology flowers he had sent you sat on your desk. you had no idea what you were going to do. until, you got a text from patrick.

patrick

hi love, art told me about what happened im sorry.

y/n

hi, you don’t have to apologize for him being stupid

patrick

do you want to hang out today? try to get your mind off of him

y/n

actually i would love to

patrick

meet me outside at 2

getting ready to see patrick was a highlight from these past few days. while you were enjoying your sulking you knew you had to get out at some point. going out to the courtyard, you see patrick sitting on a picnic blanket. your favorite foods and snacks were neatly laid next to him. you felt yourself genuinely smiling for the first time in a really long time. you spent the next hour eating your favorite meal and laughing at stupid shit with patrick. although your heart still hurt, you could feel your spirits rising.

“thank you for this patrick, it’s all so lovely” you smile.

“of course i’ll always be here for you” he gleams, pushing away the hair around your face and leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“what the fuck?!”

you would recognize that voice anywhere.

“art what are you doing here?” patrick stands up to face him.

“oh i dont know maybe i go to school here? what the fuck are you doing here patrick?!” he replies, getting closer to patrick.

“seriously y/n? you run off to patrick?” he questions, obviously distraught but you can't seem to place why.

“hey you don’t get to blame her for this” patrick replies.

“oh fuck off patrick would you let her speak”

grabbing arts hand, you quickly lead him away from the public spectacle this was all becoming.

“what the hell is wrong with you art?” you yell, shutting your room door.

“i mean, you completely forgot about me for some other girl and now you're mad at me? none of this makes sense, you broke my heart. you don't get to be angry.” you continue, feeling tears brim your eyes.

he paces for a second, running his hands through the curls you missed so much.

“im in love with you” he stops, looking down at you.

it felt like you were dreaming, like you were imagining the words that just came out of his mouth.

“i always have been. i've just been so stupid about it. when tashi came around i threw myself at her because i thought there was no way you would ever feel that way towards me. and i know i fucked up by doing that, i really really fucked up. but when i picture my life i see you, i've only ever seen you. and seeing you with patrick, i was scared i lost you. i'm sorry y/n, i really am. i would do anything to take it back.” he confesses.

“you’re so stupid!” you yell, pushing his shoulders.

“ive been in love with you for like, forever!” you look up at him, confused as to how he never realized.

“really?” he asks, pure shock all over his face.

“yes! i thought it was obvious” you frown.

before you knew it he was holding your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your lips. in that moment everything felt right, like the stars had aligned.

“y’know i'm still mad at you” you look up at him, placing your hands over his.

“trust me, i will do everything to make it up to you. i'm just glad you're finally mine” he couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face as he kissed you again.

#mike faist #mike faist x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #challengers

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 28 days

Note

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?”

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.”

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence.

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.”

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards.

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss.

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt.

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now.

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs.

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges.

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.”

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves.

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes.

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising.

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.”

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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yazmarina · 4 months

Text

one slip (and falling back into the hedge maze)

alex albon x fem!reader

you and your best friend aren't sleeping together...right?

warnings/notes: smut, fwb setup, unprotected sex (wrap it up, friends), breeding, mild power play

a/n: there's this photo of alex making pancakes (see: fic header) and my friend and i went nuts talking about alex as your fuck buddy who takes care of you...

"Serious question, and don't laugh, but are you and Alex sleeping together?"

Having been in the middle of drinking, you feel the water catch in your throat despite it being, well, literally water. You cough and splutter, striking your chest with your palm to clear the liquid from your windpipe. Meanwhile, Logan laughs, slamming his hand down on the table as he watches you struggle as if all of this was oh-so-hilarious.

"What the fuck, Logan?" you demand, eyeing Logan the same way you would if he spontaneously grew another head right at this moment.

"Hey, don't blame me! George was the one that put it in my head," Logan deflects, raising his hands up as if to surrender.

"George?!" comes your incredulous reply. "Why the fuck is George speculating about me and Alex?"

Logan gives you an equally exasperated look. "He's Alex's best friend, duh. We were in the media pen together and we got talking. He said that you and Alex were being weird around each other and, in his words, not in an avoidance kind of way but in a 'they-refuse-to-be-more-than-five-feet-away-from-each-other' kind of way. It's throwing George off-kilter, or so he says."

You pause, unable to provide enough words in order to deny the accusation. Not that it wasn't true. Not when you were in Alex's room last night, his hand over your mouth while he railed you against the bathroom sink.

Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

"So? Are you sleeping together or not?"

Your throat runs dry and you fight the urge to cough again, because that's totally not suspicious at all. You muster up all the nonchalance in your body, shrugging and shaking your head as if everything you've talked about in the past five minutes was all a big misunderstanding.

"I don't know where you got that idea, Loges," you brush off.

"The two of you sit in each other's lap," Logan supplies.

"We used to do that when we were younger" you reply.

"I caught him with his hand in your back pocket the other day."

"It's a joke we have."

"Even the kisses on the cheek? The ones that might as well be on your mouth?"

You narrow your eyes at Logan. You feel your heart thundering and you're not sure if you're showing any other signs of lying. You've always been a bad liar. Your face could be a deep shade of red or you could be sweating through your shirt right now. You definitely feel every hair on your body stand on end with how nervous you are.

"Just because you don't have a friendship like ours doesn't mean you get to judge it, Sargeant," you say with a roll of your eye.

Oh, you are so fucked.

"George asked me the weirdest thing today."

Your head snaps up as you hear Alex exit the bathroom, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist. It's just after qualifying and Alex had trudged up to his room, crestfallen as was the norm for him in the last couple of races, with him being stuck in perpetual Q2. He'd given you a keycard to his room at the beginning of the weekend, telling you to come and go as you please, and you very much were pleased to wait for him after today's disappointing session.

Nothing a little blowie and a hot shower couldn't fix.

"Did he ask about me and you?" You question, stretching slowly on the bed, burrowing further beneath the sheets. Alex meets your eyes, his forehead creased.

"How'd you know?"

You shrug. "Logan asked me the same thing today."

"And? What did you tell him?" Alex presses further, grabbing a pair of his underwear from the haphazardly packed suitcase on the floor.

"Nothing. I told him he was crazy for thinking that," you say, watching as Alex drops the towel, his ass in full view.

"Is he really, though?" Alex asks, turning back to you with a smirk.

Something about the way the warm hotel lights hit his face and the way his neck is still wet from the shower makes you want to crawl right up to him and ask if you could have a repeat of last night.

"Oh yeah," you respond sarcastically, throwing the covers off of you. Alex found you in your (his) oversized hoodie when he came back from the track earlier, but you've discarded it now to reveal the skimpy pajama set you had on underneath.

"We're totally not fucking on the low like a pair of rabbits," you add, grinning as you see Alex chuck his underwear back onto the pile. He crosses the room in two strides, climbing onto the bed and effortlessly positioning himself over you.

"I hate you," Alex says, but any actual reprimand is undetected as he smiles even wider down at you. "I just showered, babe."

"Guess you'll have to keep the mess in if you know what I mean," you reply coyly, sliding your hands down Alex's torso, down his chiseled abdomen, and further to where his cock stands half hard.

You take it into your hand and start stroking, Alex drawing in a breath as he feels you squeeze along the base.

"Fuck, you mean...?" Alex asks, his own fingers creeping up beneath your pajama top.

You nod. "Fill me up, Alex. Please?"

It's the 'please' that does it for him, a low grunt escaping Alex as he attacks your lips with such ferocity the wind is practically knocked out of you.

Alex wastes no time as he yanks your shorts down your thighs, underwear already sticky due to the anticipation. You shimmy and manage to get it down to your ankles, kicking your shorts and panties off unceremoniously.

"Get naked for me, baby," Alex whispers before kissing along the side of your neck, his rough hands hiking your top up over your bare breasts. You whimper, legs hooking around Alex's hips.

You manage to get the thin camisole off, throwing it in the relative area where you think your bottoms may be. Alex automatically latches onto one of your nipples, tongue circling the rapidly hardening nub. You gasp as you feel the faintest hint of teeth graze against it.

You have no time to process much of it, though, because you feel two fingers press against your cunt, searching but quickly locating your clit before rubbing tiny circles all over it.

"You're such a good friend..." Alex teases, chuckling when he sees your eyes roll back into your head, his finger having just slipped inside you.

"...getting wet for me like this and all."

Alex adds another digit in and drags them along on your inside walls, curling and uncurling in intervals, just how you like it. You cry out when he immediately picks up the pace, giving you no time to simmer in the sensation for too long.

"F-Fuck, Alex," you whine, hips rutting in time with the movements of his hand.

"We'll get there, sweetheart," Alex reassures with a laugh and you reach up to smack him in the arm.

"You're such an idiot," you manage in between gasps of pleasure. "Just fuck me already."

Alex withdraws his fingers and you spread your legs even wider, assuming that he would heed your demand, but Alex just slides further down the bed, leveling his face with your drenched cunt.

"I said we'll get there, _______," Alex repeats, much more serious now, his eyes peeking up as he presses his mouth against your folds.

You practically quiver at the use of your name, Alex holding your gaze as he wraps his lips around your clit. Your mouth flies open and you slap a hand over the lower half of your face, afraid that any sound that comes out now will surpass the thick hotel walls.

Alex draws slow circles over the sensitive nub with his tongue, sucking and licking here and there. It takes everything in you not to thrash around with how good Alex is eating you out. Your thighs practically lock around his head and he only groans, large hands gripping them even tighter in place.

You feel the familiar knot building up, your hips rocking against Alex's face. You're getting close despite Alex just getting into it. The way he plays your body like an instrument, wills it to bend to his commands– it brings you to the edge every time. As if no other person could know your body as well as he does.

And then it disappears, Alex frees himself from your grip, lips glistening with you, your arousal all over his chin.

"Not yet," Alex orders, hiking your thighs higher, pressing them closer to your body. Without breaking eye contact again, Alex aligns himself between your legs, angling himself closer.

The first slide in is always the best. Alex hisses as he sheaths himself inside you and you let a moan rip through you, hotel neighbors be damned.

You've been waiting for this the whole day.

Alex gives a few cursory thrusts, his sounds growing louder the more he feels from inside you. You lock your legs around his hips once more, pulling him even closer.

"You better make this orgasm worth it, Alex," you taunt, pressing your forehead against Alex's.

Alex merely wraps his arms around you, pressing himself fully onto you. His hips start to hammer down on yours and you yelp, your whole body rocking with the motions of Alex's thrusts.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, biting at the taut skin before soothing it with his tongue afterward.

"You know better than to run your mouth, baby," Alex says with a soft chuckle, a contrast with how hard he's pounding into you now. All you can say in response is a garbled mix of his name and a few swear words.

A moment later, Alex pulls away, face contorted into concentration as he readjusts your legs so they lay over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle on you.

"Oh fuck–!"

You're cut off as Alex rams into you roughly, evidently chasing his own release now. He pushes your knees closer to your chest and you have to laugh, albeit weakly, seeing as your best friend, the one you swore you weren't sleeping with, has you in a fucking mating press.

"God, Alex, what are we doing?" You choke out, the delicious stretch between your legs building up the pressure in your abdomen.

"You tell me," Alex says before leaning down to kiss you, teeth clashing and tongues darting out frantically. You're bent into yourself in a way that you never knew possible, but here you are, spread for and debauched by none other than Alexander Albon.

Alex moans into the kiss, thrusts getting shallower by the second. Every hit of his pelvis against yours, every drag of his cock inside sends you closer to what you wanted most.

"Come on Alex, give it to me."

Finally, Alex stills, his hips snapping up one last time as he cums deep inside you. He fucks you through his orgasm and you know it's sensitive for him in the way he whines, but a few final strokes are all it takes for you to cum around Alex's cock, vision going white and your nails digging into Alex's back.

You're both panting, breath spent and bodies aching. Alex carefully extracts himself from your hold, pulling out cautiously. You groan at the sensation and he giggles, seemingly amused at your discomfort.

To his credit, Alex rushes to grab the discarded towel he was using earlier, quickly handing it to you as you feel the...remnants of him spill out of you.

"Damn, you came a lot," you comment, slipping the towel between your legs. You meet Alex's eyes and the two of you burst out laughing.

"I was saving that for you," Alex says, settling down beside you, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. Your face scrunched up as he does so but you're smiling nonetheless.

"Gross," you deadpan.

"Don't say that when my children are literally inside of you," Alex warns.

You elbow him hard in the ribs.

You wake up, the smell of coffee the first thing registering in your mind. You roll over and are immediately hit with the wall that is Alex's shoulder.

Alex chuckles, raising his arm up so you can crawl into his side. You groggily pull yourself against his chest, head right against his heartbeat.

"Morning," Alex whispers. You groan in reply, still too sleepy to form coherent sentences.

"I ordered you breakfast. You can go back to sleep if you want to, but I have to go in a bit," he continues and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You feel a flutter in your chest and your eyes fly open. Great.

"Thanks, Alex," you murmur, cuddling up closer to him. He doesn't say anything, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"Love you," you add.

And you do. Love him. As a friend or as something else, you'll just have to figure out.

Alex hums, tucking your head beneath his chin.

"Love you, too."

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #alex albon x reader #aa23

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ariestrxsh · 2 months

Text

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, degradation, humiliation, mean!matt, brattamer!matt, roughdom!matt, mentions of masturbation, enemies to lovers (but without the fluff)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friends, Nick and Chris, offer to let you come over to use their water while yours is out at your place. The only problem is you and their brother Matt have always absolutely despised each other, and because both Nick and Chris are gone for the night, you're stuck with Matt all alone.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part one

"Thank you so much for letting me run a load of laundry and shower over here, you guys. You're seriously lifesavers," I told Nick and Chris, emptying my mess of gym and work clothes into the washing machine.

"Of course. Any idea how long your water's gonna be out?" Nick asked me. "No, I wish. They said anywhere from a few hours to a few days" I groaned.

"Well, like I said earlier, anything you need, we got you. Even if you need to stay here until it's back on, you're welcome to," Chris said, packing up his bag to go over to Nate's place for the night.

"That's really sweet of you, Chris. I might take you up on that if it's not back on by the end of the day," I replied. "Yeah, Chris and I won't even be sleeping here tonight, so you can stay in either of our rooms," Nick mentioned.

"Ew, what is she doing here?" Matt said, entering the room, gesturing at me. "Dude, c'mon, her water's out, and she needs a place to stay for a bit," Chris snapped at Matt.

I got along great with Chris and Nick, but Matt and I weren't very fond of each other. I thought he was cocky, disgusting, and rude, and he thought I was bitchy, shallow, and a whore, and it seemed like we couldn't exist in the same space with one another without being at each other's throats. But we often had to be in each other's space because of our mutual love of Nick and Chris.

"Please tell me you're also staying the night somewhere else," I said, rolling my eyes at Matt. "Why? 'Cause you wanna sleep in my bed?" He asked, smiling at me. "Not in a million years," I shot back. "Nope, not going anywhere tonight," he smirked. "Staying right here so I can annoy you as much as you annoy me."

"Oh my god, you guys, don't kill each other while we're gone. My uber is here," Nick said, putting on his sunglasses and strutting out the front door. "Yeah, seriously. Just please pretend you get along for once," Chris begged right before following Nick out.

I scoffed at Matt and walked over to the couch in the living room and started flipping through channels on their TV. "Um, what is your TV broken too?" Matt gave me attitude, grabbing the remote from me. "C'mon Matt. I can't leave at least until my laundry's done, and I need something to do while I wait to move it along," I whined back, reaching for the remote.

"Okay, cool. So you don't mind watching the game with me then?" Matt asked, turning on some sports channel. "Oh my god, so fucking boring. I just wanted to watch The Bachelorette," I groaned at him. "Yeah? Well that sucks. Who wants to watch some pathetic guys all drool over the same girl?" Matt rolled his eyes at me. "I do!" I yelled, making a last desperate attempt to snatch back the remote.

"Yeah, I bet you like that show because you're a little slut, and you're always juggling a bunch of dudes," Matt sneered. "Hey! That's really mean," I said in a genuinely hurt tone. "Not my fault that it's true," Matt responded harshly.

Sometimes, when Matt would say things like that to me, which was fairly often, it would make me feel a certain type of way that was hard to pinpoint. I was authentically disgusted and got my feelings hurt, but sometimes I'd feel a sensation of yearning in my core, and I didn't fully understand it. It was similar to being turned on, but it was accompanied by all these gross feelings of humiliation and anger, so I tried not to look into it much.

"You know, I just haven't found anyone worth committing to. Doesn't make me a whore," I defensively responded. "Whatever. Why do you care what I think? Is it cause you want me?" Matt smirked. "Absolutley not," I answered, following it up with a gagging sound.

"Yeah, is that how you'd sound, choking on me?" Matt laughed. "Ew, you're sick!" I shouted, storming out of the room. I decided to take a nice, long, hot, everything shower to cleanse myself of Matt's deranged behavior and how sick he made me feel.

I had everything I needed with me already - my razor, my body wash, my shampoo and conditioner, my entire skin care bag, and a towel, along with a change of clothes. I was still in what I'd worn to the gym earlier, and it was nice to finally shed off all my layers and feel the hot water hitting the back of my head and running down the rest of my body.

While I was shaving my legs, I thought I heard someone rustling around in the bathroom with me. "Matt?" I asked. "Chill, I'm just grabbing something. I'll be out of here in a minute," he said. "Fuck you, Matt. Whatever it is, it can wait. I'm in the middle of something here," I complained.

"What? Are you touching yourself?" Matt snickered at me. "Ew gross! I could never do that while I'm in the same house as you. Just get the fuck out. I'm trying to enjoy my shower," I felt myself growing red. I did feel a bit of wetness between my legs as I went to clean myself, but I certainly couldn't do anything about it now. I wouldn't let Matt be right about anything if I could help it.

After shaving and scrubbing just about every inch of myself, I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. I went to reach for my towel and realized it was missing. And so were my clothes? "Matt!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, rifling through the different cabinets and shelves in the bathroom. The fucking pervert took anything I had to cover myself with when he was in here.

"You fucking asshole! Bring me my towel and my clothes!" I shouted out the bathroom door. "You didn't bring clothes or a towel into the bathroom with you? God, you really are a little slut!" Matt yelled back from a few rooms away.

"Not funny, Matt. C'mon. There's nothing for me to dry off with in here!" I yelled. "Well, I guess you're gonna have to come in here and get your towel," Matt responded. "Can you bring it to me?"

"Nope, sorry. In the middle of a game." "I'm not gonna wait 'til you're done with your game. Bring me my towel, jackass!" "That's no way to talk to someone who has the power to either bring you or not bring you your towel. You can always come in here and get it," Matt taunted me.

Fuck. "Fine, I'll wait here patiently 'til your game is over. Just please bring me my towel soon."

A few minutes later, I heard Matt's voice outside the bathroom door. I cracked it open and peered out at him. He was standing about six feet away from me, holding my folded towel. "Here you go," he smiled smugly at me, barely making an attempt to entend his arm. "My arms aren't that long, Matt. Please bring it to me," I reached my hand out, hiding my naked body behind the door. "No, you can meet me halfway," Matt teased.

I found myself getting so undeniably wet at this. I couldn't understand it. How was it that Matt, who was clearly very disturbed and also a fucking asshole, had me sexually excited over the fact that he was trying to humiliate me and see me naked.

"Fuck you, Matt," I said coming out from behind the door and trying to snatch the towel from him. He held it up in the air out of my reach. "You're such a dick, you know that? What? Is this what you wanted to see?" I said, giving up on getting the towel back and gesturing towards my body.

Matt couldn't help but to glance up and down my body and nibbled on his lip as he tried his hardest to contain his grin. "Why the fuck would I wanna see that? You're the one basically throwing yourself at me," Matt handed me my towel, winked at me, and walked away.

"Where did you put my clothes, Matt?" I said, wrapping my towel around me. "What clothes?" He rolled his eyes at me. "Not fucking funny. The only clothes that I have that are clean right now. Give them to me," I demanded. "No, I think you look better in that towel," he smiled at me.

"Perv," I called him. "I might be a perv, but you like it," he responded. "No, I don't," I quickly answered. "There's only one way for me to find out," Matt looked at me with a dark look in his eyes. "I bet you're wet right now, because you're a little whore, and you love being teased and showing off your body."

"I am not!" I argued back. "Let's make this interesting. Prove it to me, and if you're telling the truth and you're not wet, I'll do whatever you want," Matt said, "and if I'm right and you are wet down there, then you have to let me eat you out."

"Oh my god you're so gross, Matt," I pushed him back gently. "What do you want if you win our little game?" Matt replied. "You have to be nice to me for a month," I stated, "and you have to give me my clothes you took and finish the rest of my laundry while I go home and enjoy the rest of my night alone."

"Okay, deal," Matt said, reaching for the bottom of my towel and slowly pushing it up. I wasn't a religious person, but in that moment, I prayed that I wasn't wet enough for Matt to be able to tell. I bit my lip and held back a moan as he brushed his finger between my folds.

"Wow, naughty girl. You are wet," Matt observed. "Fuck you, Matt," I answered, my face reddening. "I knew you were touching yourself in the shower," he whispered back, continuing to run his fingers over my wetness. "No, I swear, I really wasn't," I responded, slowly losing my focus as Matt played with me.

"You mean, you got this wet and you didn't even touch yourself? You really are turned on, you dirty little whore," Matt growled back to me. "I hate it when you call me that," I moaned.

"You hate it? Your wet pussy is telling me otherwise," Matt teased me. "Sorry, correction, I fucking hate you," I lashed out. "I think you fucking love to hate me," Matt said, tilting my chin up with his finger. I pushed him again. I watched as something in his demeanor changed, the way his features darkened and became more serious.

He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder while my towel barely clung to my body. I protested and started hitting his back as he carried me into his room, but I secretly couldn't wait for him to have his way with me.

part two posted here 💖

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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kpop---scenarios · 1 month

Text

The One (1)

Pairing: Mafia! Lee Know x Reader

Warning: Kidnapping, Mentions of Blood, Weapons, Launguage, and Smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOY INTERACT]

Word Count: 15.6k

Everything Taglist: @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx @stay-tiny-things @thegingerthatwaited

@silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz @ayyonoona

@31maze13

Fuck, you were tired.

You knew that going out the night before you had to work was a bad idea, but you have always loved a good bad idea, and you only live once so what the hell. You and a friend had gone to check out a club you'd heard a lot about but had yet to experience, and when you tell people you had the best time, you fucking meant it. The vibes in that place were immaculate, the drinks were strong and flowing steadily, not to mention the music they played were all the most perfect songs for dancing and grinding. You'd never had so much fun out, which is why by the time you looked at a clock, you realized it was 6am, and you had to work a double shift in 6 hours. But by the time you had gotten home, showered, ate and crawled into bed, you had to be up in 4.5 hours, and you just knew you were going to die of exhaustion today. And you were right. The day went by so slowly and the bar fluctuated in busy times, leaving you energized but also so exhausted.

Finally, you hit the last five hours of work but you knew that it would go by the slowest. It was only 10pm, and all you could focus on was the dull hum of the shitty music that played through the almost broken overhead speakers. The smell of beer and bleach surrounded you, although the smell gave you a headache it also was a sense of comfort, you were too used to it now.

You stood up, trying to shake the tiredness off, if you stood around any longer you were definitely going to fall asleep on the bar. You had been fine earlier, when it was actually busy but after the mid evening rush, you had only gotten one table, and they weren't pleasant. You walked over to the couple that had sat in the very back of the bar to ask if they needed anything else.

“No.” the woman spat, glaring at you before turning back to the man she was with. You say nothing more, instead walk back towards the bar to find something, anything to do. Instead of doing anything, you stood behind the bar staring at the clock. Maybe if you stared at it, then time would speed up.

It didn't.

You’d never seen time move so slowly until tonight. It was a Sunday, the one night of the week that you technically weren’t scheduled to work. However, you decided to be a nice person and take the shift from your co-worker, who was the girl who also shared the same name as you. She tried to explain to you why she couldn't work but honestly you didn't care enough to listen to Y/N 2.0's reasoning for needing it covered. You figured it was for some shady reason that she would try to cover up with something not so shady. You knew that because she was shady. She constantly had questionable people hanging out in the bar, they were always whispering while their eyes darted around the place, they were so paranoid and it weirded you out but she was kinda nice and did the bare minimum of her job, so you didn't care too much. You're brought out of your thoughts a few minutes later when the man comes up to pay his tab, while also whispering a slight apology for the woman he was with.

“No worries, you two have a great night.” you smile. The woman scoffs at you as she grabs the sleeve of the man, yanking him out of the bar. You just shook your head, you didn’t want her man, you just wanted your bed. You wanted to cry, you could hear your bed calling your name. Why the fuck was a bar even open until 3am on a Sunday? You cleaned off the table, looking around the empty establishment and heavily debated on closing early. It was now 10:45pm, and you still had just over four hours until you were done but you weren't waiting that long. There's no way.

12:00am. You’d give it a little over an hour and if no one showed up in that amount of time, you were going to close. You’d happily take the anger from your boss if it meant you could get out of this hellhole at a decent time. You went to the back office and told Gary that you were going to close early if no one showed up. He just grunted at you, he didn’t care. He was just there to do the cashout and go home, he wanted nothing else to do with anyone or anything.

You did all your closing things, sweeping and mopping the floors, washing the dishes, cleaning everything for the next person to open in the morning.

11:58 pm, you anxiously watched the clock. There was still no one there.

11:59pm you walked to the door. You were just about to lock it when it was pushed open, and 3 men casually walked in, grins on their faces.

You immediately felt uneasy.

"You're still open right?" One of the men asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I was about to close." You admit.

"The sign says you’re open until 3am though." One says, raising his eyebrow and glancing at the clock. “It’s only 12:01am.”

"It’s been extremely slow, so I was going to close.” you say. “But you’re here, so we're open." You say through gritted teeth, forcing a smile.

You had been so looking forward to crawling into your bed.

"What can I get you?" You ask, hoping it would be a beer each and then they would leave. Maybe they would sense your exhaustion and take pity on you.

"3 shots of tequila, and 3 whiskey and cokes." One man says.

“OKay.” you smile, heading back to the bar to make the drinks. As you're pouring their drinks you glance up, glancing at them and notice they are watching you. You couldn't help it, you had a horrible feeling in your stomach, and the vibes they had, they weren't good.

You brought their drinks over to the table, trying to hide your nervousness. You set each drink down with a shaky hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself.

"So, what’s your name, beautiful?" One man asks before taking his shot.

"Really Felix?" Another chuckle.

"Don’t act like you don’t want to know either, Hyunjin." The other laughs.

"I know I do." The last man smirks.

"So there, all three of us want to know." One smiles.

You stand there, debating. Do you give them your real name or do you make a name up? They stared at you, waiting for you to say something.

"Um, it’s Y/N." You say.

"Well!” one of them exclaims. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smirks. You give him an awkward half smile before walking away, but not before you hear the one named Felix whisper "It's her."

After you had served their drinks and checked on them again, you went to the back off, just to warn Gary. the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and you wanted him to be aware.

“Hey Gary, there's some shady men in here, I don't like their vibes so if I scream, please come help me.” you whisper, looking behind you to make sure one of them wasn't standing there.

“Sure, maybe.” Gary says, not looking at you.

If anything happened, you were totally on your own.

Around 2:30 am, you asked if they needed anything else, especially considering none of them ordered anything else, and sat there staring at you for the last 2.5 hours.

"Just the bill please, Y/N." Hyunjin smiles, pulling out his wallet.

You print off the bill, and gently place it on the table before walking away. You finished cleaning the glasses from their table as Hyunjin tosses some money on the table. You went to the back to put the glasses away and by the time you were back up front, they were gone, and there was a $100 bill left for the $30 bill.

At least you got a little something tonight.

You squeezed your eyes shut as a large yawn took over. You were finishing up the last of the organizing before you were finally done. Your feet felt heavy, they dragged as you walked around switching off the lights. Your body became more tired as you gathered your belongings before walking out the back door.

The crisp cool air hits your face as you leave the building, closing the door to lock it. The city is quiet, all you can hear is the gentle breeze of the wind along with faint sounds of the booming nightlife from the downtown area. there was always something going on down there, where you worked though, not many people wanted to go there late at night.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, you began your walk home. You always preferred walking as opposed to wasting money on a cab, especially since you didn't live very far from the bar. You never had an issue on your way home in the past, so you never thought that tonight would be any different. If anything, you’d encounter someone who cat-called you but never did anything else. It wasn’t the safest neighborhood but nothing bad had ever happened to you.

However, tonight, you couldn’t shake that bad feeling. You had thought when the men left and you were headed home that you would feel even the slightest bit better, but if anything, you felt worse. It was like your body was screaming at you that something was going to happen. You continued on your way, keeping your head down, only glancing up to see where you were going, but you could hear the footsteps behind you. You tried to keep your pace and whoever it was was staying steadily behind you. When you slowed down, you could hear them slowing down. As you picked up your pace again, you could hear them speeding up. You held onto yourself a little tighter, taking deep breaths, trying to ease the hard knot in your stomach. You muttered to yourself, telling yourself that everything would be okay and you were almost home.

Your pace increases and you breathe a little easier as your apartment building comes into view, until the sound of footsteps behind you quicken, becoming louder and faster. Your breathing becomes heavier as you run to the stairs of the front door, your hand almost latches to the railing, just before you could pull yourself up the stairs, you feel something grab onto the back of your jacket, pulling you backwards. Your stomach dropped as your eyes shut, bracing for the impact of the concrete, but instead you met with a hard chest and arms wrapping around your body.

"Oh sweet, Y/N. Our boss will be so happy we found you. He’s been trying to get a hold of you, you know. He wants his money." the voice says, it sounds familiar.

You open your eyes wide. "What? What boss? What money?" You ask, panicking. You open your eyes and immediately recognize the men, the same ones who were in the bar earlier. You try to get up so you can run away but his grip is too tight.

"Don't play fucking stupid. We know it’s you, it won’t work. Let's go." The one whose name you hadn't heard snaps, grabbing your arm tightly, yanking you with him.

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about" you scream, trying to fight off his grip.

"Don't play stupid Y/N. We got your place of employment and your hours. Stop trying to act like you don't know you owe Lee Know $700k." Hyunjin says.

What? Who the fuck was Lee Know? The most you owed was $67 to your cable company. You didn’t know what to do, he was dragging you towards a van.

Scream Y/N, scream!

“Help! Someone please help me!” you scream as loud as you can. “Changbin, shut her up!” Felix spits.

Changbin slaps his other hand over your mouth, trying to quiet you down. You bite his hand, he yelps, shoving you down to the ground. You smack your head on the hard concrete, almost knocking you out. You quickly try to scramble to your feet, you need to run away, go anywhere away from here. You're caught by your ponytail by Hyunjin, he yanks you down to the ground, pinning you down with his body.

“Stop fucking fighting, you can’t get out of this.” he snaps, pulling you up and shoving you into the van.

“It’s not me,” you cry as you lay on the floor of the van, your head throbbing.

The whole time you were in the van, you tried to tell them they had the wrong person, and you couldn’t understand why they didn’t believe you. You had no idea who Lee Know was, what money they were talking about and why they thought that it was you who had it.

As you try to plead with them again, as the van abruptly stops, the door slides open and a bag is placed over your head. You tried to fight them off, to run away, to get your arms free. You tried digging your feet into the ground but nothing you did worked. The only thing it got you was a tighter grip, fingers digging into your skin, you knew there were going to be bruises left on you.

The three men drag you inside a building but you never stop trying to fight them off. "You've got the wrong person, I'm telling you." You plead.

"Shut the fuck up." Changbin snaps. Forcing you down onto your knees. "Felix, go tell him that we have her."

You hear the footsteps moving away from you, you assumed it was Felix going to do what Changbin told him to do. You hope they get hell when they find out you’re not who they’re looking for. Your stomach twists and turns, the anxiety is beginning to eat you alive, the unknown is terrifying.

What was going to happen to you?

Seconds later you're pulled up to your feet and forced to walk forward. "Get in there." Changbin snaps, shoving you through a door, you lose your balance, falling to the floor. Someone yanks your arm, helping you up to your knees only.

"Here you go boss. Here’s Y/N." Felix says, pulling the bag from your head.

The chair behind the desk turns around, all you can see is the silhouette of a body sitting in the chair. The light behind him shone on his face, covering it. You jumped when he spoke, his voice was deep, yet smooth like velvet.

"You're kidding me, right?" He asks. You can tell he was pissed by his voice.

"No, you asked for her. Here she is" Changbin says.

"I did ask for Y/N, but that's not her." He says.

"What?" The three men say, looking at each other.

"I said, that's not fucking her." He says again, his voice getting increasingly angrier.

"Y/N from Spuds, this is her Minho!" Felix panics. ”She served us there, she said her name was Y/N!”

"There's another Y/N that works there." You whisper, keeping your head down.

"So now we have two problems." Minho snaps. "First, the girl you're supposed to get is out there, who fucking knows where, with my fucking money." He yells. "Second problem, we have a beautiful girl here who now knows a little too fucking much.” he pauses.

“So boys, what do you expect me to do about it? Do I kill her because you're all fucking morons, or let her go?” Minho asks, crossing his arms.

You were feeling brave, and honestly you had nothing to lose. Minimal friends, no good family, so if speaking up got you killed then so be it.

"I mean.” You start, looking around the room. “I personally, I think you should let me go. I work in a shitty bar at a shitty wage. So really, I'm in no position to be telling anyone about anything." You tell him, hoping that he'll see you're anything but a threat to him.

"You're fucking delusional if you think the boss will just let you.." Felix begins before being interrupted by Minho.

"She can go.” He says, standing up. “But I have conditions.” He grins. He comes out of the light and you feel like you can't breathe. He's drop dead gorgeous. He's the type of man that you would do anything he asked, just because he asked. He squats down, his face inches from yours. “First thing, if you say anything to anyone, I will find out and I will kill you.” He smiles.

Fuck. Even more gorgeous.

“And the second thing?” you ask, trying to avoid eye contact. You didn't want to set him off by looking into his eyes.

“That's really my only condition.” He whispers, grabbing your chin to look at him. “But remember, I'll be watching you." He smirks.

He helps you up, nodding his head towards the door. ”Go. Before I decide to keep you here for myself.”

"Thank you." You whisper before quickly walking towards the double doors, as you hear some punches and yelling.

You run outside, you're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Do you go left? Right? Straight? How the fuck were you supposed to get home? you turn around, seeing another man standing there, one you haven't met yet.

“I'm Seungmin. I'll drive you home.” he says, motioning to a car parked on the driveway. You reluctantly get into the passenger seat of the car. Neither of you spoke the entire drive, you didn't even have to tell him your address because he already knew where to go. That was fucking creepy but you were just thankful that you were being let go from such a terrifying situation. Seungmin dropped you off, without a word and drove off as soon as you were out of the car. You went to your apartment, took off your shoes and collapsed in your bed. You were even more fucking exhausted.

Over the next few days, you heard nothing from Minho or any of his guys. You had called in sick the Monday night after the incident, but Tuesday you dragged yourself to work as usual. Your usual routine of getting home late, sleeping late and puttering around until your next shift.

You kinda wished you had seen Minho again, but also not. He was so fucking handsome but you also knew he was a very dangerous man, and that was terrified you.

As the days went on, you'd notice someone on the other side of the street walking sort of behind you until you reached your apartment, different things that were making you feel like you were being watched.

Thursday night rolled around and It was unusually busy for a Thursday. It didn't help that the other girl you were supposed to work with didn't show up and no one you called would come in to help, so you were alone.

And you were slammed.

You were doing your very best to be quick with taking orders, making the drinks, serving drinks, cleaning and clearing tables. It was a lot and you were only one person.

Almost everyone was understanding, except the one table of piss drunk men who were getting more annoyed by the minute. You had been ignoring them as they catcalled you and then yelled at you for not refilling their beers. So you were gonna make them wait.

"Hey! Where the fuck are our beers!?" One of the men hollers at you, laughing with his friends. ”We're fucking thirsty over here.”

You ignore him. You'd told him you would get to him when it was his turn before you started ignoring him, and currently, it wasn't his turn.

"I said we want our fucking beers." He yelled again, abruptly standing from his chair causing it to fall back.

You were going to rage. You put your empty tray on the bar, glaring at the man.

"And I told you, you'll fucking get them when it's your turn. I'm by myself here. I'm trying my best! Have some fucking patience." You snap before putting in the next order of drinks.

"Fuck it." The man spits. "I'll do it myself." He says, moving from his table to walking towards the back of the bar. His friends try to stop him but he's at the point of not listening to reason.

"No you won't." You say, moving to block the entrance behind the bar. "You can't go back there." You tell him.

"I can do whatever the fuck a want." He whispers, his face moving closer to yours. You try to stand your ground, but he's so much bigger than you are, he easily pushes you back until you're trapped against the wall. "And you can't do shit about it." He chuckles, leaning in closer to you. “You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" He whispers. You can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on your breath.

You wished someone would come help, but his friends seem useless. They won't even try to control their friend. You need to get yourself out of this situation.

"Get off me." You say, trying to push him away but it was like his feet were cemented to the ground.

"Like I said, I can do whatever I want." He laughs.

“Please just get off me.” You say, you can feel the tears starting as he caresses your face.

"I think she told you to get off her." You hear from behind the man, you faintly recognize the voice.

He turns around, and you try to get away from him, but he holds you in place. You manage to sneak a peek, and you see Minho with Changbin and another man you didn't recognize.

"And who the fuck are you." The man laughs. He looks for his friends, they sit at the table watching.

Minho chuckles. "I’m a.. friend, if you will.” He says, his face stone cold. “She's mine, and I don't like when people touch what's mine." He says, cocking his head to the side.

"And what are you going to do about it?" The man asks, turning around to grab your arm.

Minho sighs, as he makes his way towards you and the man, pulling him off of you and throwing him to the ground. He places his foot on the man's neck, chuckling as he watches the man begin to panic.

“Chan, get his wallet.” Minho says. Chan digs in the man's jacket, grabbing the wallet and handing it to Minho.

"This is what I'm going to do about it..Brian." He says, looking at his license. "Have you ever heard of SKZ, Brian?"

The man gargles a small yes.

"That's mine too. Now, I don't like you, Brian. You don't listen. And I usually just kill what I don't like. Do you understand me Brian?" He asks.

The man barely nods.

"Good. Now you apologize to her, pay your tab with a hefty tip and fucking pray I never see you again, because if I do, I will fucking kill you." Minho finishes, picking the man up by his collar.

Minho and his two men sit down at a table and watch the men scramble to give you everything they had in their wallets and pockets, leaving you with a large tip and a smile on your face.

"Thank you." You say, standing at the table Minho and his men sat at. ”Really. I didn't know what I was going to do.”

"It's lucky I just happened to be in the area.” He says. "Although, I have to ask. How often does that happen?"

"I work like 6 days a week.. and people get drunk everyday.. and men get rowdy often.. so like 4 or 5 days a week." You say, shrugging your shoulders.

He laughs.

You wished you were joking.

"That's not going to do. I'll have Jeongin start doing security here." He says.

"We really can't pay for security, our boss is cheap." You murmur, waving him off.

"Don't worry about it." He half smiles.

"Look, I gotta get back to work, finish cleaning up for the night but.. is there a way I can repay you for tonight and I guess not murdering me last week?" You ask.

You've always been one to repay favors no matter who it was. It's just what you do. Although you weren't sure if you should repay him, you felt like you should.

"Actually.” He grins. “There is. I need you to be my date this weekend to a club opening, your co-worker, the other Y/N will be there." He says.

“Okay.. and what can I do for you there?” You ask.

"What you can do is bring her to me."

"I.. uhh.." you didn't want to be responsible for her getting killed.

"I need to talk to her. That's all." He assures you. You bite your lip as a swarm of thoughts flash through your head. You wanted to repay him, and this seemed easy enough.

"Okay.” You sigh. “I'll do it. What day? What club? And time? I'll meet you there." You say.

Minho smirks. "No, darling." He pauses, adjusting his jacket. "I'll send a car to pick you up and get you ready. See you Friday at 2pm." He says, giving you a small wink before walking out of the bar, leaving his two men behind.

"Are you guys not going?" You ask.

"Boss told us to stay and help out." Changbin says.

"You guys really don't have too.." You begin to say.

"Boss said we have too. We're at your disposal." Chan smiles.

How could you say no to that? If it hadn't been for Changbin and Chan, it would have taken you forever to clean up, kick everyone out and restock for your next shift. You were very grateful to Minho, which also had you thinking a bit.. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. Yes, he was in the Mafia, a leader at that, but he was sweet, to you at least. And you couldn't lie that he was the exact type of fucked up you usually went for.

You weren't completely opposed to the idea of being with him, even if it was for one night. However, you didn't think the life he led was meant for you.

The next day you met Jeongin. He was thin and attractive, but had this aura about him that was terrifying. His first night there, no one thought much of him. So when someone grabbed your ass and wouldn't leave you alone, Jeongin was right there with a sinister smile while he absolutely mangled the man.

No one fucked around after that. Word had gotten around about the new security and almost no one wanted to test him. There were a few drunk frat guys who thought one of them should test it out, wondering if it was a fluke but ultimately they all pussied out, no wanting to risk any harm to their faces.

You thought it was nice having Jeongin there, although you got weird vibes from him on occasion. You'd catch him staring at you, with a blank but thoughtful look on his face. Sometimes he stood a little too close before apologizing and going back to the door. You shrugged it off, but kept a note of it in the back of your head.

When Friday rolled around, you waited outside your shitty apartment for Minho, although you should have known better that he wouldn't be coming himself, and instead sending someone to get you.

"He had a meeting." Chan tells you as you get into the expensive car before peeling away to the mansion that awaited you.

Four long and excruciating hours later, you were ready to be his date. Your hair had been left down, while your face was full of makeup. A smokey eye with winged liner, along with red lips painted on your face. You couldn't deny that you looked hot, even more so when you squeezed yourself into the tight black strapless dress, paired with a pair of black Louis Vuitton shoes with red bottoms.

You were nervous to walk down the flight of stairs, not only because of Minho, but also because you, stairs and heels weren't really the greatest thrupple. One of you was always embarrassed, and it was always you.

"Hold tightly." The stylist tells you, placing your hand on the railing before you go downstairs.

You took your time, trying to hold your head high while watching your step. You weren't of use to anyone if you fell and broke your ankle, or neck.

"You look stunning." Minho tells you, with a slight smile, offering you his arm. Without hesitation you take it, allowing him to lead you to the garage where he even opened your car door.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, as the two of you pull up to the club.

"A little." You admit.

"Find her, tell her you know someone in VIP and bring her up to me. Changbin and Hyunjin are working the VIP door so they already know you." Minho says.

It didn't sound bad. You could do that. "And when you're done, go to the bar and drink to your little heart's desires. Tell Jisung to put it under my tab and he will. I'll come down and meet you when I'm finished."

"Okay. I can do that. Easy enough." You nervously chuckle. "Easy peasy." You breathe.

"You go in. Tell the bouncer that Minho said to let you in." He tells you.

You nod your head and get out of the car. You're a little down the block from the club, couldn't risk having the other Y/N see you and Minho together, it might ruin the plan.

You walk for a few minutes, cutting the long line of at least 100 people and heading up straight to the bouncer.

"Minho said to let me in." You whisper in his ear. The man steps back, his eyes wide.

"Yes ma'am, please go in." He tells you, pulling back the rope immediately while everyone else gets mad, asking why you were so special. You really had to admit, that was an amazing feeling. The feeling of people doing what you ask just because of a name was such an adrenaline rush. You loved it.

Once inside, you headed straight to the bar before trying to find the other Y/N. As you walked in you noticed the music was loud, and the bass went hard but it wasn't overpowering. The air wasn't hot and sweaty like most clubs, so far you were impressed, but that's not why you were here. You needed to remember that you had a specific reason you were here for and you needed to stick to it, but first, You felt like you needed a little bit of liquid courage.

Walking up to the bar, you find a small open space. Giving it your best shot, you yell for 'Jisung' hoping someone would turn around, and they did. Another extremely handsome man. What the fuck was in the water here?

"How can I help you?" Jisung asks, ignoring the others trying to get his attention.

"I'd like a double vodka lemonade." You smile. "And I'm supposed to tell you to put it on Minho’s tab." You say.

He smiles as he nods his head and leaves to make your drink. You sit on a stool facing the dance floor, keeping your eyes open for Y/N. You wanted to get this done as soon as possible but you hadn't seen her yet.

An hour and 4 vodka lemonades later, you finally see her, dancing her little heart out on the dance floor, acting like she didn't just about get you killed a week ago. You grin as you slide off your chair, partially dancing while you walk towards her.

"Hey girl." You laugh, putting on a friendly face as you approach her.

"Hey! Oh my god, What are you doing here!?" She squeals, pulling you in for a hug.

"I'm here with some friends up in VIP! Come, let's get a drink." You offer, hoping she takes the bait.

"Oh my god! Yes please! Let's go!" She laughs, grabbing onto your hand.

Hook, line and sinker.

You hold her hand tightly as you walk up the stairs. You see Hyunjin standing there, looking surprised that you actually found her.

"VIP?" He asks.

You nod your head. He walks to the nearest door, pointing to it for you two. You drunkenly pull Y/N inside with you, where to her surprise there are no other people or drinks.

There's a desk, a large window and a few couches. The chair behind the desk turns, revealing a pleased looking Minho. "Ah, that's my girl. Great work. Thank you baby." He smiles.

You feel the blush on your cheeks spreading. "You can go now." He smiles, shooing you from the room.

"Now, Y/N.." you hear as the door closes.

"Please.." you hear her say.

Your stomach is in knots as you think about what could possibly be happening in there with her and Minho. Changbin seems to notice your hesitancy to leave. He slips an arm around your shoulders. "He doesn't hurt women. Don't worry." He smiles, easing your concerns. You headed back down to the main area, making your way back over to Jisung to get another drink. You sipped as you sat at the bar, watching the stairs for her.

You felt as though you could breathe when you saw her walking down the stairs, body fully intact and leaving the club. Now you can enjoy yourself, finally.

"Two more shots please, Jisung." You laugh at the cute bartender.

Without hesitation Jisung hands over your shots, which you take with ease before heading to the dance floor now, with nothing weighing on your mind. You felt a pair of hands slide along your hips with a body pressed up against yours. When you look back you're met with a face you do not recognize, but in that moment, you don't care.

As you continue dancing with the man, your eyes wander around the club, and that's when you notice him.

Minho.

His eyes followed you like a puppy as you danced with the man. You watched as Minho watched the man's hands travel down your backside, squeezing your ass. He watches the man nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

Your stomach twisted and turned as you tried to read Minho's eyes but his face gave away nothing. He remained just as stone cold as before.

When the song ended, you tore your eyes away from Minho to thank the man for the dance, telling him you needed to go now but before you could finish Minho stood beside you, smirking at the man.

"Hi." He says to you and the man.

"Can I help you dude?" The man asks Minho, grabbing onto your hand.

"No, you can't help me, but I think I can help you." Minho chuckles. "I don't like when people think they can touch what's mine." He snaps, looking at the man's hand holding yours. "So I can help you let go, and help you get the fuck out of my club." He finishes.

Minho snaps his fingers and out comes two other men you hadn't seen before. They asked no questions before grabbing the man you had been dancing with and dragging him away without a care. The man had been pleading to be let go but they did not care.

"Dance with me?" Minho asks.

You nod your head.

He turns you around, your back flush against him as he wraps his arms around your waist, swaying you both to the beat of the music.

"What do I have to do to get you into my bed tonight?" He whispers in your ear.

A small smirk spreads across your face. "Keep going. You're on the right track."

After a few dances with Minho, Felix approaches him, whispering something in his ear that made his brows furrow, and his face instantly twisted in annoyance.

"I have something to deal with. I'll be back." He whispers in your ear, murmuring an apology before walking away with Felix, leaving you on the dance floor, alone.

Instead of standing there, you made your way back to the bar, ordering a couple more shots from Jisung, taking them instantly. It didn't take long for those to kick in and kick out your ability to make good choices. You were already drunk prior to the shots, but these just took it to a whole nother level.

You made a poor decision to leave the bar, stumbling outside, dragging your feet down the street, unsure of where you were, or even where you were planning on going.

"Hey there pretty lady." A man yells from behind you. You turn around, seeing him walking away from his group of friends and coming towards you. "Need some help?" He asks, turning around to wink to his friends.

"I'm fine." You slur, trying to move past him and continue walking on your route.

His hands grip your arms, keeping you in front of him as your head dangles down, your hair in front of your face.

"I think I'll take you home. Take care of you." He says, thrusting his hips towards you as his friends all laugh. "Give you something good for that hangover.” He laughs.

"I think you won't." You hear from behind you, a voice you recognize which makes you perk up immediately.

"And who are you?" The man asks.

"He's a man who wants to be my man… I think." You mumble, snickering to yourself.

Minho chuckles. "Baby, why did you leave?"

You try to spin around, but the man's hands are still latched to your arms, holding you in place.

"Let me go." You say, trying to rip your arm out of his grasp, but he doesn't budge. "I said let me go."

"I don't know. I don't trust this man." The stranger murmurs. "You're coming with me."

"Probably shouldn't trust him. He's terrifying but he will kill you if you don't let go of me. He doesn't like when people touch what's his." You mumble, looking up at the man with a semi serious face.

"She's not wrong." Minho snaps.

"I thought you weren't her man." He scoffs.

"I will be, but regardless if I am or not, I'll still protect her from pieces of shit, such as yourself. So let her go before I make you regret touching her and making inappropriate comments in the first place." Minho snaps.

His patience was wearing thin, and even drunk you could tell.

"I don't think I'll regret shit." The man laughs, with his friends. You weren't sure who this man thought he was, you had no idea who he was or why he was fighting Minho for you, but you currently wished Minho would just take you away from the creep. The situation was not sobering you up.

"Now I'm fucking tired of you." Minho snaps. He grabs your upper arm, yanking you away from the man who stands there confused on what happened. He pulls you behind him before his fist connects with the man's face, dropping him in an instant. "Have any of you heard of SKZ?" He asks the man's friends.

They all immediately begin nodding their heads yes, stuttering they didn't know.

"She's with them, don't fuck with her." Minho warns the group, looking down at their unconscious friend. He gives him one swift kick in the stomach to the man before picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and heading back towards the club.

"You can take me home now." You giggle. You can't see it but a small smirk spreads across Minho's face.

"And what would you like to do there?" He asks, his voice low as he carries you down the street.

"You." You giggle.

Just as Minho walks up to the front door, he sets you down, grabbing your hand before you hear the first gunshot.

Instinctively, Minho pulls you to the ground, covering you with his body as bullets fly through the air for what seems like forever. You were too panicked to notice the feeling of warm liquid trickle onto your body as the weight of Minho's body squishes you.

After what felt like forever,, the bullets stop, Minho stands up, pulling you up after. "Oh my god. You were shot." You gasp, looking at his shoulder.

"Shit. I'm fine." He hisses. "We need to get you somewhere safe. Now." He says.

"Minho!" You are here from behind you. Turning around you see Jeongin standing in front of an open car door, ushering Minho inside. He grabs your hand, pulling you to the car, pushing you inside before sliding in beside you.

Jeongin gets in the driver's seat, making a call as he puts the car in drive, taking off.

"Yeah I've got him. Bullet to the shoulder." Jeongin says.

"Tell everyone to meet in my office asap." Minho grunts, sliding his injured arm from his suit jacket.

"Pressure.. you need to put pressure." You stutter, looking for anything to use. You pick up his suit jacket, murmuring a small apology before pressing it to his wound, causing him to hiss. "Can we go to a hospital please." You ask Jeongin whose eyes really haven't left you, you notice he has been watching you off and on through the mirror.

"Chan has medical training. It's fine." Minho tells you. You're not so convinced that's a good idea but you know you can't do anything to change his mind.

You pull up to the house, Jeongin out first to help Minho out before you follow behind them both. "Chan, get your med bag." Jeongin yells, bringing Minho to his office.

"Upstairs. First door on the right is my room. Take a shower, get cleaned up, help yourself to whatever. I'll be up soon." Minho tells you, walking into his office that's littered with his men.

"Find who did this." He spits as the door closes, leaving you alone.

You wander around Minho's room, looking at the paintings, and awkwardly grabbing a shirt from his drawer, before entering his grand bathroom.

You turn on the shower, shimming out of the tight dress you were wearing that was soaked in blood. You step inside, the hot water feels great on your cold skin. You watched as the blood water went down the drain, making it seem as though it never really happened. But the moment replayed through your head like a movie as you scrubbed yourself clean.

You washed your hair using Minho's shampoo, enjoying smelling like him. After soaking for a bit you got out, drying yourself off before slipping into his shirt and leaving the bathroom.

You were surprised to see Minho sitting on his bed, his shoulder banaged, his toned, muscular stomach in full view.

"Are you okay?" You ask, walking over to his bed, sitting on the edge.

"Are you okay?" He asks you instead of answering your question.

"I'm fine." You smile.

"Mhm. You look good in my shirt." He smiles, licking his lips. "I think I remember you saying something about you wanting to do me?"

"That was before you got shot." You pout.

"I'm all good, baby girl. You can ride me no problem." He whispers.

You look down at his crotch, his cock growing harder by the second. You bite your lip, contemplating if you should really do this, considering he had just been shot.

You stand up, facing him with a smile on your face.

"Shirt on or off?" You ask him, cocking your head to the side, playing with the hem of his shirt.

"On. I want to see you ride me while wearing it. " he whispers.

You crawl back on the bed, pulling down his sweatpants, while he helps you the best he can, bucking his hips. Minho's cock springs free, pre cum leaking from his red tip, down his large, thick shaft.

On your hands and knees, you begin to kitten lick his tip, before taking what you can in your mouth. Minho moans loudly as you hollow out your cheeks, forcing his cock down your throat, making you gag.

"Shit." He moans, throwing his head back, as he bucks his hips.

You pull him from your mouth, taking a breath before you softing continue sucking his cock. He bucks his hips again, forcefully shoving himself down your throat, causing tears to well in your eyes.

"Sit on my cock." He demands. You let go of his cock with a pop, crawling up to straddle him. You slightly lift up the shirt you were wearing, holding onto his cock as you line your pussy up. Sitting down, you slowly sink down onto him, as he stretches you out while filling you up completely.

"Fuck. So tight." He groans.

With one hand on your hip he begins helping you rock back and forth, grinding yourself on him. A few minutes later, you discard his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you as you begin to bounce on him, slowly lifting yourself up before pounding down onto him. Minho bucks his hips again and again as you go back down.

You grind your pussy on him, your clit perfectly rubbing against him. Minho reaches up, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers as you cup your other breast, the sound of fucking and moans fill the room.

"I'm.. i'm going to.. fucking cum." You cry out, your orgasm finally reaching its peak as it explodes through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

You tried to slow down your movement as you rode through your high but Minho doesn't let you. He snaps his hips, fucking you from below as he chases his own high, seconds later spilling himself into you, coating your walls with his cum.

The two of you stay still for a minute, catching your breath until you notice Minho's wound bleeding through the bandages.

"Let me get something." You say, climbing off of him, putting his shirt back on before running to the bathroom for a cloth.

Just as you enter the bathroom, Minho's bedroom door swings open.

"Sorry to bother you…but we found out who ordered the attack." Hyunjin says.

"Who." Minho asks.

"It was Mingi and his men, from Ateez." Hyunjin explains.

Mingi? As in Song Mingi? Why was your ex boyfriend ordering attacks?

"Mingi?" You laugh. "Song Mingi? No, there's no way. Why would he? No, you've got the wrong guy." You say, waving Hyunjin off.

"Do you know him?" Minho asks.

"We dated for 2 years." You admit. "I know him pretty well and I think I would know if he was into this kinda stuff." You say, twirling your finger around, pointing at them.

"She's a fucking spy." Hyunjin yells, charging for you. His forearm presses against your neck as he shoves you into the wall, pinning you there. You panic, looking at Minho who now just looks confused.

"Let her go." Minho says calmly.

Hyunjin doesn't move.

"I fucking said let her go." He yells, prompting Hyunjin to back away from you. "Get the fuck out. I'll handle this." He finishes.

You watch as Hyunjin leaves his room leaving you alone with Minho.

Your eyes are wide as you stand against the wall, struggling to catch your breath. Minho slowly strolls towards you, his wound seeping blood through the bandages.

He puts one hand out, pressing it against the wall as he leans in closely, whispering in your ear. "You better tell me right now if you're fucking working for them, and if you are, you better beg for your fucking life."

"I-I'm not." You stutter. "I didn't know anything about it." You cry.

Minho pushes himself back, turning to the door and walking away. "If I find out differently, you're dead." He finishes, leaving the room. You slide down the wall, breathing heavily as you try to wrap your head around what the fuck just happened.

Later that day, Minho stands in his office, his head hanging down with his hand in his pocket as his men wait for him to say something. His shoulder throbbed and this entire situation was pissing him the fuck off.

"Hyunjin." He begins. "If you put your hands on her again, I'll kill you myself. Clear?" He asks.

"She's a fucking spy!" Hyunjin retorts, frustrated that no one believes him.

"How dare you accuse her of that." Jeongin pipes up. "She said she didn't know about him, so that means she didn't fucking know. Drop it." He grits, his pissed off facial expression barely moving.

"Seungmin, Felix, find out as much as you can about the relationship between the two of them." Minho orders.

The two head out as Minho dismisses the rest, except one. "Hyunjin." He starts. "If it comes back clean, you drop it. If it comes back that you were right, you know what to do." He says before watching him leave his office.

Minho walks away, searching for one man in particular. He walks into the kitchen, seeing Jeongin on his phone, facing away from the door. "Get it done." He spits, hanging up his phone and turning around.

"Minho." Jeongin gasps.

"Get her to call into work for a while." Minho says. He can't help but notice a small glimmer in Jeongin's eyes whenever he mentions you.

It makes him wonder.

"You're keeping her?" Jeongin asks, walking past Minho.

"For now." Minho says as Jeongin leaves the kitchen.

Jeongin opens the door to Minho's room, seeing you sitting on the bed with your legs crossed and your chin resting in the palm of your hand.

"Get up." He yells, startling you. You jump up, still only wearing Minho's shirt. Jeongin could feel the anger boiling up in him, he tried to let it go but it was hard. "Let's go." He says, turning to walk down a hallway. You follow behind him, trying to keep up as he takes another turn down another hallway and then up a flight of stairs. He leads you inside a dark, dusty room.

"Here." He says, tossing you your phone. "Call in sick to work."

"For how long?" You ask, your voice a whisper.

"Few weeks." He answers, his eyes practically burning holes into you.

You turn away from him, dialing the number to the bar you work at, as you put the phone to your ear you hear the ringing. You're staring at the wall that has a pair of curtains hanging down to give the appearance of a window without actually having a window. Your stomach drops as you continue to look around and see faint splatters of blood all around.

"Hello?" A voice on the other end answers.

"Hi." You whisper. "It's Y/N…I um, I won't be into work for a few weeks."

"Why?"

"I um, had a death in the family.. my… mom." You say.

"Ah okay, sorry about that. See you." He says, ending the call.

You turn around and see leaning against the wall. "All done." You say walking towards the door. You walk through the doorway, Jeongin closely behind you. Right before you hit the staircase you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back before slamming you against the wall. He presses his body against yours, his hand trailing up and down your side before moving up and around your neck. He leans his head in closer to you, his hot breath hitting your ear.

"I can't wait for him to toss you to the side, maybe then you'll give me a turn to play." He whispers. "Believe me when I say, he listens to me more than anyone. Don't fucking lie to us, don't try and play us because we will find out." He pauses, twirling your hair in his finger. "And I will fucking kill you, and I promise, I'll do it with a fucking smile on my face." He finishes, backing away from you before heading down the stairs, leaving you wondering how even after Mingi leaving you 8 months ago, he was still fucking up your life.

Later that evening you were sitting in a chair in Minho's office, as he finished up a call. "Yeah, keep digging. Thanks Felix." He says, letting out a sigh as he hangs up the phone. He raises his head, looking at you sitting there quietly.

"How was your relationship with Mingi if you had no idea about his life?" He asks.

"It was quiet. He told me he worked for some big shot lawyer, so I never questioned the late nights or when he didn't answer his phone. He said he was in court a lot, so it made sense." You shrugged.

"He never showed up covered in blood? Suspicious phone calls? You're telling me he didn't show any signs of not doing what he said."

"He got a lot of calls. Sometimes he would go into a different room, I just assumed he was cheating on me." You admit.

Minho laughs. Before he can ask anymore questions, his phone rings. He answers it, putting it on speaker.

"What?" He asks.

"Minho.. you're not going to like this." Seungmin says from the other side.

"What'd you find?" He asks, glaring at you.

"Her apartment.. It's riddled with cameras and microphones. Someone's been hard-core watching her." Felix pipes up.

You sit up further in your chair, your face confused.

"What?" You whisper, feeling so violated.

"Thanks." Minho says, hanging up the phone.

Seconds later your phone rings on Minho's desk. He looks down and none other than Mingi's name pops up on the caller ID.

"You talk." Minho says to you, as he presses the answer button.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Hi baby, I miss you." Mingi breathes into the phone.

"You ended things with me, Mingi." You spit. "What do you want?" You ask.

"I want to know why the fuck you're sitting in Lee Minho's house right now."

"How.." you pause.

"How do I know? Bitch I know everything." Mingi snaps.

"The fuck you want, Song?" Minho snaps.

"Ah, Minho, the man of the hour." Mingi chuckles. "How's that arm of yours?" He asks. "I assumed you'd leave Y/N alone after that warning, maybe you're not that smart then.. " he laughs. "Let her go."

"Let her go? Nah, knowing how much you want her, makes me want her even more. You know, maybe i'll just fuck her right here on my desk. Do you want to listen to how hard I rail her?" Minho asks.

That shouldn't turn you on, but fuck it really does.

"I'm warning you.." Mingi snaps.

"Or maybe I'll let my men have their way with her. They're all pretty sexually deprived." Minho says before hanging up on Mingi. Minho lets out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair. He was trying to not let Mingi anger him, but he did. He glances over at you, and you're already staring at him.

"You didn't mean that, right?" You whisper. "About your men.."

"You can fuck whoever you want to fuck, I don't give a fuck." Minho snaps.

“What?” You ask. That wasn't quite what you were expecting. “Seriously?”

“Fuck all of then at once. I don't fucking care.” He spits.

"Fine." You scoff, standing up and walking out of his office.

You storm down the hallway, looking for anyone to use for the night.

"You." You call out. "Come with me.." You pause, forgetting his name at the moment.

"Um.. Chan." He answers as you drag him up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Chan asks, looking behind him then back at you dragging him up the stairs. He begins to panic when you don't answer him and continues to drag him upstairs, down the hall before stopping outside Minho’s room.

“I… I can't.” he whispers, his eyes wide as he stands outside his leader's bedroom door.

“Im not going to actually fuck you, Chan.” you chuckle. “No no no, I'm only going to let Minho think I'm fucking you. He claims he doesn't care but he does, or he will.”

“I don't think that's how that's going to play out.” Chan chuckles. You roll your eyes, opening the door to Minho’s room before pulling Chan inside by the neck of his shirt and slamming the door behind you.

You stay in there for an ample amount of time, so that when the two of you come out, it's more believable that he had just fucked you.

"Alright." You say, glancing over at Chan. "Time to go, but first some adjustments."

You walk over to the terrified looking man, and run your hands through his hair, messing it up. After you're done with his hair, you ruffle up his shirt, making him look like he just fucked you good and hard. On your way to the door, you messed yourself up, making yourself look good and fucked before the two of you leave the room; heading downstairs.

"Boss wants to see you." Changbin says to you, passing you on the stairs. You smile to yourself, hoping that it got to him. You were determined to show he cared about you.

You walk just close enough to Minho's office before you give Chan a loud, fake kiss and push him away, making sure to thank him loudly for an excellent time.

"Let's do it again." You yell, walking into Minho's office. "You wanted to see me?" You say, sliding into one of the chairs that sat in front of his desk.

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, his voice low.

"It was great. Why? Jealous?" You ask, a smirk on your face.

Minho chuckles. "My men.." he pauses, walking towards you. He stands over you, leaning down allowing his hands to rest on the arm rests as his face moves in closer to you. "My men value their lives more than that. They wouldn't risk themselves and my trust for them for some pussy." He spits, his voice low. "You're not worth it to them. They won't fuck you. You're mine."

You gulp as he leans in even closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. "And if you fuck Jeongin, I'll kill you both." He grunts. "Also, if you were going to try to make me jealous, Chan was not the way to go."

"So what? Does that mean you're the only one who gets to fuck me?" You ask, scoffing.

"That's exactly what that means." He says, clenching his teeth together. Minho grabs the collar of your shirt, yanking you from the chair and slamming you down on the desk, your face pushed into the stack of papers he had laying around.

Minho pulls your pants down, licking his fingers before slowly working them inside you. "Already fucking wet." He grunts, pulling his fingers out, undoing his pants. He whips out his cock, pumping it a few times before thrusting himself inside of you. He grunts loudly as his hands grip your hips, violently thrusting into you.

"You're not the one in control." He spits. "I am." He finishes, fucking you fast and hard. He thrusts a few times before pulling you out to turn you around. Minho sets you on his desk, ignoring his shoulder pain as he has been all day, pulling your pants off you, tossing them behind him.

You lay back, sticking your legs in the air. He grabs your legs, dragging you to the edge of his desk before sticking his cock back inside you. He can feel you tighten yourself around his cock, making him moan loudly.

“So fucking tight.” He grunts, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hand snakes in between the two of you, and between your lips, rubbing your clit as he continues to grunt while he fucks you. He rubs quickly, making you twitch as you can feel your orgasm building.

"Cum for me." He grunts. You had been waiting for this, your orgasm had been building rapidly as he rubbed himself against you.

"Just like that." You cry out, arching your back as your orgasm pulses through your body, making you shake. "Fuck." You cry out, clenching yourself around him again.

"Dirty slut." He spits as he cums, spilling himself inside of you.

Minho pulls himself out of you, helping you sit up on his desk. Your eyes look to the door and meet the eyes of Jeongin, startling you to jump off the desk and hide behind a confused Minho.

"What?" He asks, looking at you instead of the door. You point towards the door, trying to cover your naked bottom half.

"What the fuck. How long have you been there?" Minho asks.

"Since you started arguing." Jeongin says, his voice unamused.

"What the fuck." You whisper.

"Y/N, get dressed and go." Minho says, ushering you out. You hide under his desk, getting your pants back on before trying to leave the room, moving past a pissed off looking Jeongin.

"You know." Jeongin says, grabbing your arm as you try to move past him. "I could fuck you better, and treat you better." He whispers before letting you go and looking back at Minho.

You leave the room, making your way to the living room where you sit completely uncomfortable as to what just happened.

"I thought we fucking talked about this?" Minho spits, motioning to Jeongin to come closer. "You're to leave her alone."

"I can't help it brother. She's just so.. tempting." Jeongin smirks, licking his lips.

Minho balls his fists up, taking a swing and connecting with Jeongin's face, causing him to stumble back. Jeongin lightly chuckles as he touches his lip, feeling a small drop of blood on his finger.

"Wow brother. Resorting to violence again?" Jeongin laughs.

"I swore to mom and dad that I would watch out for you after they passed. But I will not do this again, I can't have another Lisa situation." Minho yells.

"Y/N is much more important than Lisa ever was."

"Stay away from her. She is mine." Minho threatens.

"I can treat her better." Jeongin spits.

Minho throws another punch, knocking Jeongin back again. He walks forward, hitting him again and knocking him to the ground. Minho climbs on top of him, throwing punches wherever he could get them to land. Jeongin brings his hands up, trying to block the punches as Minho wails on him, Jeongin laughing as he's being hit.

Out of breath, Minho stands up, giving Jeongin a swift kick in the ribs before stepping over him and walking out of his office, headed to find you.

"Let's go." Minho says, motioning to you to stand up.

"Where are we going?" You ask as Minho grabs your arm to pull you away.

"Jeongin isn't stable right now. You need to stay somewhere else." He says before a giant boom shakes the entire house.

Seconds later, Hyunjin runs into the house coughing. "The SUV was blown up." He announces. "It's Ateez. Mingi's here, and he wants her." Hyunjin finishes pointing at you.

"Fuck. Felix, take Y/N and hide her. Now." Minho demands. "Jisung, give me your gun."

Jisung hands over his weapon to Minho, who tucks it in the waist of his pants before hiding it with his shirt. "Chan, Changbin and Hyunjin, come with me." He finishes.

Felix grabs you by the shoulders, guiding you to a room down the hall before closing the door. You stand there, leaning your head against the door to try and hear what's going on.

Minho and his men begin to walk towards the front door, when Mingi appears from around the corner standing with San and Hongjoong.

"Where is she?" Mingi asks, his eyes darting around the room to find you. "I thought I made it pretty clear that you should have let her go. You know better than anyone she's not safe here." Mingi spits, motioning to a beat up Jeongin.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jeongin snaps, moving towards Mingi before being stopped by Hyunjin

"It means, I know what happened to Lisa remember, and I'm sure as fuck not going to let that happen to Y/N." Mingi yells.

Listening through the door you can hear Mingi yelling, saying your name a few times. "If they're talking about me, I should be there." You snap at Felix. He shrugs his shoulders, paying attention to whatever he was looking at on his phone.

Deciding to take it into your own hands, you pull open the door and run down the hallway and into the living room where all the men stand.

"Hey you." Mingi smiles. "Look.." he begins before you cut him off.

"Who's Lisa?" You ask around the room.

No one answers you. "Who the fuck is Lisa?" You ask again.

Mingi looks at Minho and Jeongin. "Are either of you going to tell her? Or should I?" Mingi asks.

Neither of them answer. Jeongin stands there with his arms crossed, his face straight as he stares at you. "Alright then. Lisa is Minho's ex. They dated for a while before she disappeared." Mingi begins.

"Okay.. I don't understand." You say, you're confused on why this is even an issue.

"Jeongin here took a liking to her while they were together. He stalked her, watched her and them together. One day she disappeared, and I can almost guarantee Jeongin had something to do about it. Either he killed her or he has her locked up."

You can hear Jeongin snicker from behind you. You turn to look at him and he gives you a slight smile before winking at you, making your stomach drop.

"You stay here, and you'll end up gone too, which is why you should come with me. Minho knows his brother is unstable but yet doesn't do a fucking thing about it. I can keep you safe." Mingi finishes.

"You say you can keep me safe? I don't trust you. You lied to me for the entire 2 years of our relationship about what you did. I can't.. this is too much." You sigh. "I need to go." You walk away from the group of men, heading out the front door. You walk around the property, heading out into the distance a bit to clear your head. What the fuck were you supposed to do. It took you a few minutes but you decided on your plan.

You went back inside to announce to everyone what you were going to do.

"I'm going home." You say. "I'm going back to work and I'm not dealing with this shit anymore. I just want to go back to my life."

Minho nods his head. "I'll have people keeping an eye on you."

You were surprised, you honestly didn't think he would just let you go.

"I'll take you home." He says. He places his hand on your lower back to guide you out before looking back at Mingi. "Get the fuck out of my house." He spits, walking to his car with you.

A few days later you were getting back into your routine with work and being home. You always had one or two men at the bar with you, and outside your apartment building at all hours of the day and night. Minho was watching you closely, along with his men.

He had told you not to worry about Jeongin but you couldn't help it. He seemed to be uncontrollable and capable of anything.

"See you tomorrow, Chan." You laugh, heading out of the bar.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you home?" He asks, unsure about leaving you by yourself.

"I'm fine." You smile. "I'm like 5 blocks away and I have pepper spray too." You finish. Chan nods his head, getting into his car to drive away as you begin your short walk home.

About halfway there you hear some footsteps behind you. You try not to let yourself panic and just pick up your pace but the person behind you also picks up their pace. Your chest is heaving as you break into a small run, the person behind you picking up their pace again to keep up with you. The person begins to run faster, but now passes you, making you stop to try and ease your breathing. You probably should have let Chan take you home, your anxiety was too high for this.

You continue walking when a man runs out in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder before shoving a knife into your stomach. "This is a warning for Minho. SKZ better stay out the fuck out of our trafficking district." He spits, pulling the knife out and taking off.

Your hands cover your wound, the blood pouring through your fingers. You fall to your knees, laying on the concrete bleeding out.

You're in and out of consciousness, passing out on the concrete before waking up in someone's arms, being carried somewhere.

"Hospital." You whisper.

"I got you." The man says before you pass out again.

You groan as you wake up, your stomach throbbing but stitched up and bandaged up to heal. You open your eyes but you can't focus, you try to stretch but you have little to no room. Looking around as your eyes try to adjust, you see metal bars surrounding you. You look around more and see a cage you're stuck in suspended from the ceiling. Looking beside you, there's nothing but on the other side there hangs another cage with a dirty looking girl sitting in there.

“What the fuck! Where am I!?” You scream, trying to shake the bars of the cage but you're in so much pain.

“It's no use.” the woman coughs. “No one can hear you.”

“Where are we?” You ask.

“I have no idea.” She sighs.

"What's your name?" You whisper.

"Lisa." She whispers back. Your eyes widen at the name.

"Are you… Minho's ex girlfriend?" You ask.

She cries as she nods her head. "I'm so sorry he got you." She whispers when the metal door swings open from across the room.

You watch as Jeongin walks in with a giant smile on his face.

"My set is complete. My two beautiful girls." He smiles. "Boy, do I have plans for the two of you...” he pauses, his phone now ringing in his pocket.

Jeongin looks at you and Lisa, your hands wrapped around your cage as his phone continues to ring, Minho’s caller ID popping up on the screen. He watches you desperately plead for him to let you go. The wound in your stomach bleeding through the dirty bandages as Lisa coughs so hard she begins spitting up blood.

"Don't say another word. Or I will kill you." He spits, pointing at each of you. "What, Minho? I'm in the middle of something." He says, his eyes darting from you to Lisa, a subtle smile spreading across his face, you don't even want to imagine the thoughts going through his head. "Oh you got a lead on Y/N?" He snickers. "Yeah of course I'll come and scope it out. Sounds fun." He says, hanging up the phone.

"I gotta go, ladies." He says, putting his phone in his pocket and placing a ballcap on his head. "Don't go anywhere." He chuckles, walking away from your pleas and begging.

"How long have you been here?" You ask Lisa whose heaving, her breathing sounding ragged.

"I don't even know." She sighs, trying to find a comfortable position in such a small cage. "Over a year I think."

"How.. How the hell did this happen? Where was Minho? Why didn't he protect you?" You ask in disbelief that he wouldn't have noticed any kind of signs regarding Jeongin.

"It's the same way he didn't protect you from it. He doesn't know all of Jeongin's moves, hell, even Jeongin doesn't know his next move until he does it. He's so unpredictable that Minho never sees it coming. He wants to believe in the best of his brother and can't see all the evil. He doesn't want to believe that Jeongin would do something like this." Lisa says.

"I think he's starting too. He hit Jeongin a few times, and tried to take me away but I said no and I wanted to go home and resume my life. Then I got stabbed and brought here. I'm sure Jeongin was the one who stabbed me too. I think Minho will know that it's Jeongin. He has too." You breathe.

He'll know, right?

"You're sure?" Minho asks Seungmin. Minutes earlier Seungmin stormed into Minho's office saying that someone thought they recognized you, and had seen you a week ago, saw what happened to you but was too afraid to speak up.

"Tell him we'll protect him, nothing will happen to him if he tells us what he knows." Minho tells Seungmin.

Seungmin leaves the room quickly, running to give the information, time was of the essence. Minho didn't want you missing any longer.

"What's going on?" Jeongin asks, walking into his brother's office.

"Someone saw what happened to Y/N." Minho says. "Finally some answers."

He doesn't notice Jeongin immediately tense up, but he tries to not let it show. "Oh?" He questions. "Who?"

"Someone Seungmin found, who saw her walking after the bar closed. I can't wait to get my hands on the motherfucker who did this. I can't do this again." He sighs, grabbing his gun and securing it in the waist of his pants before he walks towards the door. Jeongin stands there, lost in his thoughts before Minho brings him out of it.

"Are you coming?" He asks.

Jeongin shakes his head. "I gotta do something." He mumbles, pushing past Minho and storming out the door.

Seungmin comes around the corner with his arms crossed. "I told you. He knows something." Seungmin states. Minho had a feeling that his brother was somehow involved but he didn't want to believe it. He swore to his parents he would protect Jeongin, but if it turns out to be him, Minho will do what he has to do.

"We need to get out of here." You scream, yanking on the metal bars that barely budge.

"It won't work." Lisa calls over. "I've been trying to get out by myself for a long time. He would let me out.. under circumstances but I refuse his offers. I can't." She says.

"What are his offers?" You ask. Maybe somehow they can be played to your advantages.

"He'll let me out if I agree to be his. But I can't do that to Minho.." She trails off.

"You need to." You exclaim. "Tell him both of us want him. We can take him down.." you begin to whisper as you hear a door creak open. You looked over at Lisa who had a small smile on her lips. You hoped it was Minho whose footsteps you heard but as they got closer, it revealed a frazzled looking Jeongin.

"We gotta move." He mumbles. "He's close to finding you, Y/N." He says, pointing at you. "Maybe I should just get rid of Lisa now." He wonders, a smile creeping across his face, glancing over at her. "I want to hear how her voice breaks as she begs for her life, pleading for me to spare her, saying anything to try to make me second guess my decision, feel something. Even if it won't work.” He grunts. "She'll choose Minho.. fuck, you'll still chooses Minho!" He yells, pointing at you.

"N-no.. I choose you. Jeongin, I want you." You say, scrambling to your knees in the cage, despite your pain, your hands on the bars. "I want you to be mine, Jeongin.”

‘I-I do too..You've done so much for me over the year I've been here. I see how truly sweet and caring you are. Please accept me. You know it's me who you really want." Lisa says, forcing a smile.

Your eyes are wide as you're watching this, you don't want her to trade her life for yours, but what could you do?

"Is that so?" Jeongin asks, walking to her cage. He pulls out a key, unlocking the locks and helping her out before wrapping his arms around her. She struggles to stand, but wraps her arms around him anyway, leaning on him, he holds her closely. It doesn't feel right to him. She's not who he really wants.

"I love you.." She mumbles. "So just let Y/N go.. okay? It's you and me now. You don't need her."

"It's not. She's the one.” Jeongin says, smiling at you. “Your time is up.” He laughs, dragging Lisa from the building. You needed to do something. He was going to kill her.

“Ow… shit. Jeongin.” You cry out. “Please… my wound…” you trail off, falling to the floor of your cage. Jeongin lets go of Lisa’s arm, running to you. He made it to your cage too, jingling his keys to find the right one to unlock it.

“Run!” You scream, watching her bolt out of the open door. Jeongin glares at you, the door of your cage wide open.

“Why did you do that?” He snaps, reaching in for you. You back away as far as you can.

"No no no, please." You cry, trying to squish yourself in the back of the cage so he can't reach you. You try to kick him, and fight him off but you're still weak. Your wound continues to bleed.

"Get out here." He grunts, latching onto your leg and dragging you out and into the floor. He grabs a clump of your hair, pulling you through the door, letting go of your hair, and grabbing your wrist to drag you outside while Lisa continues to run through the field. Jeongin drops you in tall grass, the sun shining down on you, the fresh air surrounding you. He grins as he pulls his gun out, his finger on the trigger.

"Shit." Jeongin spits, pointing the gun at you. Even if he was mad at you, he couldn't kill you.

It's you. He loved you and he was going to have to do whatever he could to make you love him back. He picks you up, dragging you to his car and throwing you in the backseat, before climbing into the driver's seat and spinning out of there. He needs to find somewhere else to take you. He drives the opposite way Lisa ran, trying to figure out the best place to keep you hidden and away from his brother.

"What do you want?" Minho spits as someone knocks on his office door. He was stressed, he didn't know what to do about you. Where were you?

"Hi." A familiar voice whispers. "Remember me?" Lisa asks as she walks into his office.

Minho's jaw drops as he stares at her, she's dirty, wounded and her clothes are torn but it's her. She's here.

"I can't believe it.." Minho says. He briskly walks towards her, pulling her in for a hug. "What happened to you?" He asks.

"Jeongin took me." She cries.

"I knew it." He spits. "What about Y/N? Does he have her too?" He asks.

"I've never met any Y/N's before." Lisa whispers, nuzzling her head back into Minho's warm embrace.

"Jeongin didn't take Y/N?" Minho asks, feeling defeated, but also a little relieved that his brother wasn't involved in your kidnapping.

"But baby, he took me." Lisa pouts, snuggling in closer to him. Minho didn't know how to react to this. She had been gone for so long, and he had moved on, he was falling in love with Y/N, but how did he break it to her when she had just been through something so traumatic.

"Lisa, go upstairs to the guest room, get cleaned up, take a shower and rest. I'll send Hyunjin up with some clothes and a towel for you. I've got some work to do." He says, clearing his throat and awkwardly moving out of her embrace. Lisa looks offended, but he didn't care at the moment. He needed to find you.

"Hyunjin." He calls out

Hyunjin walks into his office, giving Lisa a small nod before focusing his attention on Minho. "Get Lisa some fresh clothes and necessities, but before that, set up a meeting with the informant. I want that information now." He spits.

“Yes sir." Hyunjin says, quickly walking out of the office. Lisa stays behind, watching Minho work, and it made her angry that he didn't care about her right now. The love of his life was standing in front of him after being kidnapped for over a year, and he didn't care.

"Baby." Lisa whines. Minho looks up from his work. "Will you come shower with me?" She asks sweetly.

"Lisa, I'm busy. Go." He spits.

She scoffs. "Can I atleast use your phone?"

He sighs, opening his drawer and digging in it to find an extra phone, there's no way he was going to give her his phone. "Here." He says, sliding a phone and a charger towards her. With a huff she grabs them and storms out of his office, heading up the stairs to Minho's room. She knew he said the guest room, but his room was far more comfortable.

Lisa plugs in the phone to charge and hops in the shower, rinsing off the dirt, grime and smell from her. When she's done, she grabs a pair of shorts and a shirt from Minho's closet, before grabbing the phone and dialing a number.

"Hello?" A voice answers.

"It's done." Lisa says. "I told him I didn't know any Y/N, and that you had only held me captive." She says.

"You fucking idiot, you weren't supposed to say I did it to you. Fuck." Jeongin spits. "You go tell him that I fucking saved you, and you didn't know who took you. That you had gotten shit twisted. Got it?"

"And if I don't?" She asks.

"If you don't, Y/N comes back into Minho's life and you're thrown to the side like the garbage you are."

Lisa hangs up the phone, putting it back on the table to charge more. She stands up, heading downstairs and back into Minho's office to talk to him. She stands outside his office door, her hand hovering just above the door as she listens in before knocking.

"We need to find somewhere safe for Lisa to go. She can't stay here, but more importantly, I need to find Y/N." She hears Minho say.

Shit. She needs to do something, she needs him to forget about Y/N and focus on her. She's here with him right now, she's the one that should matter to him.

Knock

She opens the door slightly, forcing her tears out. "Min?" She sniffles.

"Come in." He says, though he sounds annoyed.

Lisa begins crying heavier now, she looks at him with her tearful eyes, hoping he would be the one to say something first. "You okay?" He asks.

Perfect.

"It wasn't Jeongin who took me.. I lied." She sniffles. "To be honest, I don't know who took me." She whispers. Her entire body shakes, her voice whimpers as she tells him what she knows. "But I'm so scared of him finding me again, this is the only place I feel safe."

Minho notices Hyunjin rolling his eyes, he doesn't believe her story, and frankly Minho isn't entirely sure if he believes her either.

"So Jeongin had no part in your kidnapping, or Y/N's?" Minho asks.

Lisa shakes her head no. "Like I said earlier, I don't know Y/N, but it wasn't Jeongin who took me. I'm sorry for lying about that, baby, he just always made me feel so uncomfortable, so I said his name. But thinking back on it, it wasn't him." She says.

"Are you sure?" Minho asks, wanting to really make sure he was thinking correctly.

"Yeah, it wasn't Jeongin, I swear. He would never do something like that." Lisa says, trying to snuggle her way into Minho's grasp.

Minho's eyes dart to Hyunjin, who's already looking at him. He knows that Hyunjin is on the same page as him. Minho gives Hyunjin a nod, and he swiftly leaves the room.

"Lisa." Minho sighs, moving so he can look right at her.

"Yeah?" She smiles.

He sighs, placing his hands on her cheeks, smiling. "If I find out you're lying about Jeongin or especially Y/N, I'll fucking kill you." He says, dropping her face and storming out of his office, leaving Lisa standing there alone and terrified.

Lisa now knew she fucked up, but Jeongin had her convinced that if she came back into his life, everything would go back to the way it had previously been. She should never have believed him when he came to her with his plan but she desperately wanted to be out of the cage, she wanted to be back into his life and she hated Y/N, she hated that Minho had moved on and she couldn't have let that happen.

“She called a random number.” Hyunjin tells Minho later.

“Did you call it?” Minho asks. Hyunjin nods his head.

“There was no answer. It's a burner phone.” Hyunjin sighs.

“They're working together. I fucking know it.” Minho groans, rubbing his hands on his face.

Before Hyunjin can say anything, Lisa walks into the office. “Hi baby.” She smiles, walking towards Minho.

“I'm busy right now.” Minho says, looking down at the papers on his desk.

“Lisa?” They all hear. Minho looks up, seeing Jeongin standing there. “Wow. It's been so long? What happened? Are you okay?” He asks, walking towards her. Jeongin wraps his arms around Lisa, holding her closely. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.” He whispers to her, pulling away, patting her shoulder.

“You must be so happy.” Jeongin says to Minho, motioning towards Lisa.

“Ha, yeah.” Minho says. “I'm busy, can we talk later?” He says to Lisa and Jeongin. They both nod, walking out of the office. Hyunjin emerges from the corner, sitting in the chair across from Minho.

“I know who can get it out of her.” Hyunjin says. Minho knew who could do it too, but he really didn't want to have that conversation.

“Yeah, Mingi.” He says, pulling out his phone, dialing the number.

“What?” Mingi asks.

“I need your help.” Minho grumbles. “Lisa's back.”

“Oh shit.” Mingi says. “He took Y/N, didn't he?”

“I think so. Lisa said no, but I don't believe her. I need you to find out.”

“You know, if you just lose your morals and start hurting whoever fucks you over, you could do it yourself.” Mingi tells him. “But I'll do it. Bring her here.”

Minho hangs up the phone, looking at Hyunjin. “Go get Lisa.”

Minutes later, Lisa comes into the office, smiling at Minho. “Let's go.” Minho says, grabbing his keys.

“Where are we going?” She asks, climbing into the car.

“Somewhere else where you'll be safe.” Minho says. He can't even look at her, knowing what she's done.

The car ride is silent, until Minho pulls up to the house. “Who lives here?” Lisa asks, getting out of the car along with Minho.

Mingi walks out of the house, a smile on his face. Lisa turns to look at Minho with a horrified look on her face. “Why am I here Minho?” She asks, her voice shaking.

“I know you're fucking lying.” Minho snaps. “and Mingi will get it out of you.” He says, climbing back into the car. He peels off, leaving a crying Lisa, being dragged back into the house.

“Jeongin.” You cough, holding your stomach. “I need a doctor.” You say, you hadn't healed at all and it had been weeks.

“I can't take you to the hospital.” Jeongin says, sitting in the corner of the small building. “You'll leave me.”

“I won't leave you… I promise, Jeongin. But I need help.” You cough.

“I'll be back.” He says, standing up, heading towards the door. You groan, laying your head back down on the floor. You were gonna die here. You knew it.

What felt like days later, Jeongin walks back in through the door, a bag in hand. He walks over to you, kneeling down. He lifted your shirt, removing your bandages, replacing them with new ones.

“Take these.” He says, handing you some pills and some water. You didn't even question what he was giving you, you just hoped that it was going to help you.

A week later, a week of Jeongin giving you pills, and tending to your wound a little more carefully you were finally starting to feel better, on the outside but on the inside you were slowly dying. It had almost been a month, you think, since Jeongin had taken you and it made you wonder if Minho was still even looking for you. You thought he would have found you by now, especially if he was actively looking for you. Didn't Lisa tell him Jeongin had you? Every day you waited for Minho to come and bust through the door to pick you up and whisk you away from this shit hole but you were starting to lose faith. You just wanted to go home.

Weeks later, you were finally healed up, and Jeongin had been fucking with your head the entire time. He almost had you convinced that Minho didn't care for you at all and that he was never going to save you. Tell you that he was the one who loved you, and he would always protect you and take care of you but you knew that it was a lie. You knew he was trying to get into your head and you needed to remain strong but you could make him think that you loved him.

That night, you and Jeongin were laying in the bed, fully in the dark. Tears slipped down your cheeks as your lips trembled. “I love you, Jeongin.” You whisper, hoping he believed you. Maybe he would ease up on you and start giving you a little more leeway.

“You do?” He asks, rolling over towards you.

“I do.” You murmur, trying to not let him hear your voice quiver.

“I knew you’d come around.” He happily sighs, holding onto you tightly.

You fall asleep that night, softly crying, wondering if this was your life now, and if you were ever going to be saved.

400 notes · View notes

bsturnzmtt · 3 months

Text

Accident (Part 3) - M. Sturniolo

Enemies to lovers

Part 1

Part 2

Paring: dom!Matt x sub!fem reader

Contains/warnings: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), mention creampie, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, getting caught, filming while doing it.

Summary: You are best friends with Nick and Chris Sturniolo, Matt hates you for some reason. One day you're home alone at their house, or so you thought so. Looking for a charger you enter Matt's room. You walked in on Matt doing something no one wants to walk into...

—————————————————————————————————————

Matt gives you one last look, a mix of satisfaction in his gaze, before he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. You're left lying there, his cum drying on your thighs, his words still echoing in your mind…

Next morning…

You wake up, your body still sore from yesterday. You want to get Matt out of your head, but you can’t. Your head replays what happened over and over again. Matt’s stuck in your head. You can’t believe he just left, like nothing happened, after all that happened. He left you lying there like a used toy.

*You get a call from Nick*

“Hey Nick”

“Hey, what happened yesterday? I thought you were going to wait till we get back?”

“… right. Uhm yeah, I just wasn’t feeling well”

“Ohhh are you better now? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it was just a headache”

“Ohh okay okay, but we can hangout today, right? Me and Chris bought a shit ton of snacks, you should come over”

“That’s cool, I’ll shower and head over there”

“Great! See ya”

*End of call*

Y/n pov:

Ugh I know this is a bad idea, Matt’s gonna be there. I feel nervous or embarrassed? No! I can’t let him win. This is probably what he wants, for me to feel this way. God I hate him. I’m just gonna ignore him, like I always do. I’ll act like nothing happened. And I can’t let it happen again, no matter how good it was.

I stand up barely my legs hurt so much. Somehow I get in the shower and start showering. I finish showering and put on a chill outfit. I throw on some baggy jeans, and a white baby tee. Brush my hair add some perfume and I’m ready to go. I get in my Uber and 10 minutes later I’m in their house. I knock on their door, and Chris opens.

End of Y/n pov.

You arrive at Sturniolo residence, your heart beating faster than usual. Chris opens the door and greets you. You can feel Matt's presence looming over you before you even see him. When you finally do see him sitting comfortably in the couch, he's giving you a cocky smile that immediately makes your blood boil. You decide to ignore and walk into the kitchen with Chris, where Nick was.

“Hey Nick!”

“Heyyy glad you could make it, there’s some coffee in the pot if you want.”

“Thanks” you pour yourself a cup of coffee. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Matt walks into the kitchen without saying a word.

You take a sip of coffee, trying to calm your nerves. The tension in the room is palpable, and you can feel Matt's eyes on you, like he's undressing you with his gaze. You still ignore him, you start making conversation with Nick and Chris as Matt serves him self a cup of coffee. He turns around taking a sip of his coffee. He chuckles at the sight of you struggling to sit on the tall barstool.

“Struggling much?” He let out with a chuckle interrupting the conversation going on. “Looks like yesterday was leg day at the gym.” He adds.

You let out an awkward laugh. “Actually, it was. You know what they say, ‘no pain, no gain’ right?”

Matt chuckles at your response, taking a sip of his coffee. "I couldn't agree more."

“Wait, didn’t you had a headache yesterday? That’s why you left.” Nick asks.

“Right… but a headache is no excuse for not working out, plus the headache lasted way less than I imagined I would, I just took a pill and forgot about it.” You respond and then give a teasing look at Matt.

Matt observes you, not entirely convinced, his eyes narrowing for a second before he speaks. "You know what else works for headaches? A good night's sleep. But you didn't get that either, did you?"

“You know… you’re actually right. I didn’t. I had this weird nightmare about this stupid man, I don’t remember much.”

"What can I say? Men are weird creatures. We're hard to understand and even harder to forget." He takes another sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of the cup.

“Can you guys stop fighting for a second, or whatever it is what you do.” Nick says annoyed because you guys always fight.

“Nick, our Uber is here.” Chris says.

“Uber? Where are we going?” You ask.

“It’s just me and Nick, we ordered some stuff and we have to go pick it up.” Chris responds.

“Great” you say sarcastically, and rolling your eyes.

“Please don’t kill each other while we’re gone.” Nick says to you and Matt.

"Don't worry, we won't." Matt replies with a smug smile.

“Don’t take too long!” You say as Nick and Chris are walking out the door.

Matt watches as they leave, before turning back to you, his stupid smirk widening.

You roll your eyes at him and walk to the living room, and sit on the couch.

"You know, you have a cute eye roll. I would love to make you do that more often." He follows you to the living room, sitting down next to you on the couch.

“Oh I’m sure you would.” You respond.

Matt lets out a low chuckle, his hand finding its way to your thigh,squeezing gently. "Well, I do have a few ideas on how to get that reaction out of you.

You can feel yourself getting wet by his words and touch, but you quickly pull yourself together, not letting him win. “Keep them to yourself.” You respond, as you push his hand away from your thigh.

Matt's smile only grows at your response, he finds you absolutely irresistible, and this little chase is only turning him on more. His hand drops from your thigh, but he does not back away. “You mad or something?”

You can’t believe he’s actually asking you that. “Mad? No… Why would I be?”

“Mmhh maybe you’re mad because I left yesterday.” He says sarcastically. You stay silent. “Aww is that it?” He chuckles. “You’re mad because you didn’t get aftercare?”

“No! Shut up. I told you im not mad. I just… find you annoying.” You reply. Matt smirks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your words.

He loves how hard you try to resist him, and that only fuels his lust for you even more. "Annoying, huh?" Matt leans in close. "Is that why you're squeezing your thighs? Because you find me annoying? Or is it because you’re wet?" He trails a finger along your jawline, tilting your head to face him. His eyes darken with desire as he notices your nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of your shirt. You stay silent, hating how right he is.

Matt takes advantage of your silence, closing the gap between you and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring the depths of your mouth with a possessive hunger. He breaks away after a moment, leaving you breathless and flushed. "So, you're not mad then?"

“I fucking hate you.” You say with your eyes filled with desire and lust.

Matt smirks, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your words. "You're lying." He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, slowly and deeply. His hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he owns you. "Say it again."

You’re soaked at this point, your body feels on fire. “I hate you so fucking much.”

Matt growls, before claiming your lips once more. Despite your words, your body betrays the desire and need that you have for him, your actions telling a completely different story than the words coming out of your mouth. "I love it when you curse at me," Matt says, his voice low and husky. "It's so fucking hot."

He leans in close, his hot breath against your ear. "You want to hate me, baby? Fine. Hate me while I make you cum." He whispers before trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "You want me to make you fucking scream?" You basically whine at his words, then desperately nodding. His hands move to your waist, lifting you up as he carries you to his bedroom.

Matt tosses you onto the bed, crawling over you. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants, slowly pulling them and your underwear down in a teasing manner.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name," he promises, his fingers already working to unzip his jeans.

He finishes undressing you and himself, then you see as he pulls out his phone and sets it down in the nightstand, giving the camera a perfect angle of you two.

"Oh, you have no idea how fucking hot you look, spread out like this for me," Matt says, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips trail down your chest, stopping to suck on your nipples as his free hand continues to play with your other breast.

"You know, if I post this, I could" he smirks, nodding towards his phone. "Make you famous."

Matt lips move lower as he kisses a path down your stomach. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you open wider for him. "Fuck, you're so wet already,"

Matt buries his face between your thighs, his tongue flicking against your clit. He teases you for a few seconds. "I'm going to eat this sweet pussy until you cum all over my face," Matt growls, his hot breath against your already drenched folds. He dives in, tongue delving deep as he licks and sucks your clit with a fervor that makes you arch off the bed.

“Mmhp fuck” you moan.

Matt growls as your hands grip the sheets beneath you, using them to push yourself harder against his mouth. "You taste so fucking good, I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy," Matt moans against you, tongue lapping at your folds and flicking along your wet lips. "Tell me when you're about to cum, baby," he commands, sliding a finger into your wet entrance. He reaches up and squeezes your tits as he continues to fuck you with his tongue. He loves how responsive you are, how fucking sexy you sound moaning and whining for him.

“Matt mmh feels so good” you whine.

"Mmh," Matt groans, the vibrations of his growl making you tremble. He slides another finger into your tight pussy. He curls his fingers, finding that spot inside of you that makes you scream. He takes notes of every little moan, every sound you make as he sucks on your clit. He starts to rub at your g-spot, circling it in a way that makes your back arch off the bed. "You like that?"

“Mhm please don’t stop” you moan.

He starts to fuck you faster and harder, sucking on your clit with more intensity. “I could do this all day.”his voice muffled as he continues to eat your pussy with a passion that makes you moan out loud. He curls his fingers inside of you, fucking you faster and harder as he sucks on your clit.

“Matt, I’m close mmh”

Matt knows you're close, so he doubles his efforts. He sucks harder on your clit, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub. He finger-fucks you faster, curling and twisting inside your wet heat. “Hold it.” He demands.

“what? I- I can’t”

He pulls back, his face glistening with your juices. "Don't cum yet, baby. I want to make this perfect for the camera," he says, his voice low and husky. He reaches over to his already recording phone, and puts it on the bed pointing directly at the side or your face.

“Matt please” you whine.

"Don't worry, baby. Just keep those beautiful legs opened for me," he says as he starts to rub slow circles around your clit with the tip of his thumb, letting your body tense back up again before going in for the hard sucks and finger fucking.

You moan loudly and cover your face feeling a little embarrassed being recorded in a moment like this.

Matt smirks, seeing the flush on your cheeks as you cover your face, the recording device now capturing your shy embarrassment. "Such a good girl, letting me make you cum on camera," he says, his fingers never stopping their relentless pace inside you.

“Matt I’m so close” you moan.

"I want you to cum loud and hard. I want your pleasure on full display. Don't hold back, and look at the camera while you cum." he demands, finger fucking you faster and harder as he sucks on your clit with full force.

You moan any whine while still covering your face.

"Look at the camera." Matt growls, his fingers curling deep inside of you, rubbing your g-spot relentlessly. He sucks harder on your clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub. "I want to see your face when you cum,"

You obediently look at the camera.

His fingers fucking you hard and fast now, his mouth glued to your dripping wet pussy, his thumb rubbing teasing circles around your tight little hole. "Cum for me, my naughty little slut,"

“Mmhp Matt I’m cumming”

"That's it, cum for me! Squeeze my fingers, drench my tongue," he growls, his own arousal evident as he feels your pussy clenching around him. He sucks hard on your clit as you come undone, his other hand reaching under you to roughly palm your breast.

“Mmh fuck”

"Good girl, good fucking girl," he praises, his fingers still working your sensitive, post-orgasm pussy. He nips at your clit, causing you to jump and moan. "Again. I want another one."

“Mmhp fuck no matt, please… I need your dick inside of me” you beg.

"You want my cock?" Matt snickers, a hungry glint in his eyes as he withdraws his fingers from your spasming pussy. He grabs the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth. "You want this big, hard dick splitting you open?"

You nod eagerly. “Mhm please Matt, I need you.”

"Fuck, saying shit like that makes me wanna shove my cock in your slutty mouth," he grates out, his other hand coming up to knead your breast roughly.

“Mmh please fuck me.”

"Dirty little slut," he mutters, grabbing your hips and flipping you over onto all fours. "Look at how eager your cunt is for my cock," he hisses, running the head of his dick through your juices.

“Mmhhh Matt.” You whine.

He slams his cock into your pussy, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Matt grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back as he thrusts into you again and again. "Fuck, you're so tight." He pounds into you mercilessly, his balls slapping against your clit with each forceful stroke. "Take it, you filthy little cumslut."

You’re basically screaming in pleasure and moaning his name.

"Scream for me," he demands, his grip on your hair tightening as he fucks you even harder. His other hand reaches around to rub your clit, adding to the overwhelming stimulation. "I want everyone to know who's making you cum so hard." He grabs the phone and records from his point of view. "You fucking love this, don't you?" Matt grunts. "You're just a stupid whore who loves having her hole stretched out by a big cock. You can't get enough of this dick, can you?"

“Matt I’m so close”

"Cum for me, bitch," he growls, giving your ass a hard slap. “Cum for the camera” His finger rubs furiously at your throbbing clit as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. "Cum all over my cock you dirty slut."

He takes the opportunity to flip you onto your back, keeping his dick buried in your pussy as he gazes down at your face, contorted in ecstasy. He continues to pound into you, the wet sound of his thrusts filling the room as he aims his phone at your face.

"You're such a good little whore," he praises.

“Fuuuuck Matt” you cum and moan loudly.

Matt groans as your pussy clenches around his dick, milking his length. "Shit, you're so tight when you cum," he gasps, his own orgasm approaching. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill this cunt up,"

Suddenly… the door to Matt’s bedroom opens. It’s Nick and Chris.

Nick and Chris stand there, both of their jaws dropping. Matt quickly stops his movements and tries to cover your exposed body with the bed sheets.

“Shit sorry!” Nick says quickly shutting the door.

“Shit! We’re fucked.” You say to Matt.

“They weren't supposed to be home for another hour." He starts dressing himself quickly, "I'll talk to them. Go into the bathroom and clean yourself up,"

“Are you sure?” You ask.

"Yes, just go," he barks, his tone laced with a hint of annoyance and embarrassment. He quickly adjusts himself, making sure his erection is hidden before turning to face the door, trying to compose himself. His head trying to come up with something to tell his brothers.

You slip into the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind you. As you lean against it, your mind is racing with what just happened. The excitement of the encounter still lingers in your body, but so does a sense of unease, knowing that his brothers who are also your best friends unexpectedly walked in on you two who supposedly hate each other.

Matt takes a deep breath, before opening the bedroom door to face his brothers. He knows he needs to come up with a good excuse, but he's also aware that he can't just lie about everything. As he steps into the hallway, he sees both Nick and Chris looking at him expectantly.

"Look, I know this looks bad," he starts, avoiding eye contact with his brothers for the time being.

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "But I can explain." He turns to face his brothers.

“Explain what? You guys pretended to hate each other and fucked when no one was there?” Nick says and then chuckles. “Ugh I knew you guys didn’t hate each other.”

At the mention of what they just did, Matt feels his face heat up in embarrassment. "Shut up, Nick," he snaps, trying to cover up his discomfort. "It's not like that." He pauses for a second before continuing, “This was just a one time thing.”

You finished cleaning up and got changed. You went downstairs to the living room, you supposed they were there. “Uhmm hey guys…” you say as you enter the living room.

Matt looks up and sees you walking into the living room. He feels a mix of emotions at the sight of you, attraction, guilt, and a desire to talk to you. Both Nick and Chris look up as you enter, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity. Nick smirks and leans back into the couch, while Chris just raises an eyebrow. "Well well, look who decided to join us," Nick teases. Matt gives Nick a death stare and the says, "I was just, uh, explaining things."

“I mean, it's pretty simple," Matt continues, “We were just-" Matt struggles to find the right words to say.

“I- it was just a one time thing.” You say trying to help Matt.

Nick snorts and rolls his eyes, "Sure, just a one time thing," he mocks in a high pitched voice. Chris looks unimpressed, but Matt feels a twinge of annoyance at Nick's teasing.

“Okay okay, fine. This was the second time. But that’s it!” You explain.

Matt sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "I mean, it's not like we're dating or anything. It's just...I dunno, something that happened." He says defensively.

“Yeah exactly. We still hate each other and everything” you add.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," Matt agrees, trying to emphasize his point. But even as the words leave his mouth, he can't help but think about how much he actually wants to be with you, despite the fact that you guys ‘hate each other’.

As the tension in the room grows, Matt feels a shiver run down his spine. He glances at Nick and Chris, their eyes full of amusement and confusion. Nick and Chris exchange glances and Chris speaks, "So, let me get this straight," Chris says, his voice low and even. "You two are secretly hooking up behind our backs, but you still insist you hate each other?"

“Uhmm I-“ you don’t know what to say.

Chris stands up from the couch, his eyes fixed on you. "Listen, whatever is going on between you two, you guys need to talk about it," he says, Nick nods in agreement.

“Nothing is going on.” You say.

“Yeah nothing is going on.” Matt adds.

Matt's heart pounds in his chest as he watches Chris and Nick exchange a knowing look. He can tell they don't believe him, and he can't blame them. The tension between him and you is palpable, and it's not hard to figure out what's really going on. "Come on, guys," Chris says.

"We're just messing around," Matt interjects, trying to downplay the situation. But even as he says it, he knows it's not entirely true. He wants more than just a casual fling with you, but he's too afraid to admit it out loud. The room falls silent as Matt's eyes lock onto yours. For a moment, he's tempted to cross the distance between you, to pull you into a kiss and make his feelings known.

"Maybe you guys should stop playing around and just admit it already," Nick suggests, his tone lighthearted but his eyes serious. "It's pretty obvious there's something there." Matt's heart races at the thought, but he still can't bring himself to confess his real feelings.

“Admit what?” You ask, even though you know what he means.

Chris jumps in, not giving Matt the chance to respond. "Yeah, come on. Don't play dumb.”

“Ugh just… shut up and let’s drop this.” Matt says roughly.

“Yeah… uhmm it’s getting late, im gonna call an Uber.” You say.

Matt's face tightens at your mention of leaving. "Uber?” He doesn't want the night to end, not when he's finally found the courage to acknowledge his feelings for you. "I'll drive you home,"

“You don’t have to.” You say.

"I want to," Matt insists. He won't take no for an answer. His eyes dart to your lips, but he forces himself to look away before he does something reckless.

Chris and Nick share a look, smirking at each other as they sense the tension between you and Matt. "Well, we're gonna get outta here," Chris says, clapping Matt on the shoulder. "We’ll let you two lovebirds have some privacy.”

You jokingly roll your eyes at Chris comment and watch as they leave the room. “Okay… let’s go.”

The moment the door closes, leaving you and Matt alone in the living room, tension fills the air. Matt hesitates for a moment before walking over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. He gently takes your hand in his and leads you out to his car. Matt opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing against your lower back as you slide into the seat. He closes the door behind you and walks around to the driver's side. Matt starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, heading towards your apartment complex. He glances over at you, taking in your features as he tries to come up with something to say.

Suddenly, Matt pulls into a nearby parking lot and cuts the engine. He turns to face you, his eyes dark and intense as he reaches for your hand. "Look, I know I've been a bit of a jerk lately," he admits, his voice low and earnest. You turn to look at him.

Matt's hand tightens around yours, his thumb caressing your skin. "I've been trying to figure out what's going on with me, and I realized... I really like you," he confesses, his voice cracking slightly.

You feel your stomach fluttering at his words. “Really?”

Matt's chest rises and falls rapidly as he nods, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. "Yeah, I really do," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I know I wasn't always the nicest guy to you in any aspect, but I really like you.” He takes a deep breath. "I thought I could just be cool with you, hang out and fuck around... but it's not like that, I can’t.” He confesses. He feels scared you don’t feel the same way. “Do… do you not feel the same way?” He asks with a tone of vulnerability in his voice. “I mean, I totally get if you don’t-“

“Matt… Matt, I do.” You interrupt him.

Matt's eyes widen at your interruption, his breath catching in his throat. He leans in closer, his face inches from yours. "You do what?" he asks, his voice low and hopeful. "Feel the same way?" He leans in closer, his free hand reaching up to gently brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. He searches your eyes, his heart racing in his chest.

You nod looking deeply into his eyes.

Matt's heart races as he sees the sincerity in your eyes, his breath hitching slightly. "Fuck, really?" he murmurs, his voice low and awed. He doesn't break eye contact, his own eyes softening as he looks at you.

“Yes Matt.” You chuckle. “Really.” You lean in close and kiss him softly.

Matt's lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hands gently cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. He exhales shakily, a mixture of relief and happiness washing over him. "Fuck," he murmurs again, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. You can’t help smile at him. Matt returns your smile with a soft, genuine one of his own, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He can hardly believe it, the weight of his fear and anxiety slowly lifted off his shoulders. His hand reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. "Hey," he says.

“Mh?”

"You make me crazy, you know that?" Matt says with a hint of amusement in his voice. He looks at you, his eyes shining with affection. "But in a good way.”

You laugh softly. “You make me crazy too.”

"I think maybe we should get out of here," Matt suggests, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Go to your place?" His hand slides down to intertwine with yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I don't think I can park here.” He laughs.

You laugh with him. “Yeah let’s go.”

The end.

—————————————————————————————————————

TYSM for the support in the first two parts 💕

I had a lot of fun writing these🩷

I got some requests in my inbox so I’ll probably start working on that.

Hope you guys like the ending 💗

—————————————————————————————————————

Tag list: @chrislittlewife @christophersgf @mattsturnihoe @suyqa @ilovechrissturniohoe @mattsfavbitchhh @sturnioloarchive @maexsturnz @dollannabelle

Tags 🏷️:

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo texts #smut

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seungminxstay · 7 months

Text

fwb / mingyu x reader / 18+ mdni

when you're in love with your fuck buddy

You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. Mingyu's body just barely touched your back. One hand was in your hair, the other holding a dryer, as he patiently untangled the wet knots. The proximity was too… domestic. Fluffy. Warm.

You had only planned to take a quick shower, just like always, but you somehow blanked out and ended up with shampoo in your hair. Mingyu’s shampoo. He had burst out laughing when you stepped out of the bathroom, dripping wet from head to toe, but was quick on his feet to get more towels and a dryer.

He gestured to the sofa. You didn't get it at first, standing dumbly as you held out your hand.

"Dryer, please."

"No, sit down. I'll do it."

You knew it was a bad idea from the very start. Because you wanted it so much. You did your best to argue, even trying to pry the dryer from his grip, but you eventually lost to his stubbornness.

Mingyu hummed softly as he ran his fingers in your hair, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He was too good at this. You thought of the other girls you’ve seen Mingyu with - he was always with a different girl. Did he let them steal his sweatshirts, dry out their hair, fuck roughly after such sweet foreplay?

The first time you met him was at DK’s party. Mingyu was tipsy, but not drunk, as he leaned close to you the whole night, whispering silly jokes and bad pickup lines in your ear. Every time you laughed, his grin would widen, and that made you giggle more.

Mingyu was cute. Great smile. Funny. He was a friend of Seokmin, one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Tall. Wide shoulders. Nice hair. You could come up with a long list of reasons why you absolutely had to sleep with him that night.

That was a month ago. Mingyu had somehow got hold of your number, though, and texted you quite often. One night eventually turned to a weekly basis. You weren't complaining, of course, but all the little details about Mingyu started making your heart race. It was getting hard to handle the dull pain that came with it.

You didn't realize Mingyu had stopped the drying, just his fingers running through your hair.

"Your hair smells like mine," he murmured, pulling you into his chest from behind. You could feel the heat of his body. And his hard on.

"Already?"

"From the very second you stepped out of the shower," he grinned.

He had such a pretty smile, and it didn't go away as he kissed you.

Mingyu’s warm hands made their way under your clothes, running up your hips to your breasts. You sighed in his mouth as he rubbed your nipples between his forefinger and thumb, gradually working you up. The steady stimulation made you lose your breath.

It was no surprise that when Mingyu slipped a finger between your folds, it was already slick. You weren’t wearing your underwear, knowing it would get tossed away in a heartbeat.

"Let me eat you out," he breathed, breaking away from the kiss. He spread your legs, gripping firmly on your thighs. Mingyu took his time with sex, but he wasn’t a tease - he went right to your clit, licking up a long stripe and rolling it intensely on his tongue. He was ever so eager to please.

"More, Gyu," you whined, grinding your hips on his mouth. God, that was hot. Mingyu went feral at your desperate chase for a climax, and his tongue dug deep in your pussy, delivering exactly what you needed.

You laced your fingers in the curls of his hair, tugging them instinctively. Mingyu moaned at the sharp stimulation, the vibration bringing you to your edge. You were so wet and needy for him.

“Such a good girl for me…”

“I’m so close, gyu… hmm… fuck.”

You were out of breath as you came on Mingyu’s tongue, head thrown back and legs shuddering.

“Good, baby?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. He wiped his mouth, licking his fingers clean and savoring the last of your arousal.

You slowly arose from your daze and pulled him in a messy hug, resting your cheek on his chest. You rummaged down his pants for his dick, and just touching his thick, heavy length made your mouth water.

“Fuck my mouth,” you whimpered

"God, I’d love that, but I want to be inside you, so bad. Let me come in your pussy,” Mingyu pleaded. His eyes were sparkling, really, and you couldn’t resist giving in to such a pretty frown.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding on his bulge. How his dick glided along your folds, coming in contact with your clit, was almost enough to make you cum again.

Mingyu couldn’t take the teasing anymore. His large hands gripped your waist, hoisting you up and on his dick. You groaned at the sudden intrusion, loving every moment of it.

You sank down and started bouncing on his cock, desperate for the surge of orgasm to crash over you.

Contrary to his rough thrusts, Mingyu’s moans were loud and whiny. His dick stretched your pussy in the most sinful way possible, hitting your sweet spot. His mouth was attached to your neck, nibbling on your soft skin, but his hands traveled everywhere - in your hair, tracing your jawline, kneading your breasts.

It was so easy to forget about everything when you see him so passionate and entranced in your sex.

You felt him throb inside, and your walls clenched instinctively, milking out the last of his cum. His pace slowed but yours quickened, drawing out a pretty moan from Mingyu as you came.

“Too much?” you whispered in his ears.

“Who said so?” Mingyu smiled. He was always up for a challenge.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu #seventeen imagines #svt #seventeen #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic

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eddiesxangel · 1 year

Note

Im gonna need u to elaborate on that post abt Eddie holding ur vibrator 'what kinda microphone is this'

You say elaborate… I say I’ll write a whole fic about it 😅😅

But You Don’t Even Like Karaoke? | virgin!eddiemunson x bestfriend!reader

WC 3.3K

CONTENTS WARNING: SMUT

You invited Eddie up for the weekend to your shabby student apartment. You've been away at Indiana State while Eddie was still stuck at Hawkins High complaining about how life in Hawkins has been so shit without you and needed to get away, coming to see you would be the perfect getaway.

Eddie and you had always been close, so when you told your roomies that he was coming to stay they were okay with it, as long as he slept in your room. They didn't want to wake up in the middle of the night to get something and have a random guy on the couch, which was reasonable because they hadn't met him before. They were excited to finally meet your best friend and you planned to go out to the bars tonight after a very long week of midterms.

Eddie arrived late afternoon, you introduced him to your roommates and he settled in.

"It's so sweet you have your own space, we can finally hang out without worrying about Wayne or your parents judging us" Eddie laughed while plopping on your double bed.

"Do you wanna shower before we head out?" You ask.

"Nah I did this morning, I'm okay." He tells you.

"Ok I'm going to pop in, You can entertain yourself until I'm back" You give him a wink and leave him to his devices.

Eddie scanned your new collage room, it reminded him of your old room at your parent's house. You had pictures of you and him framed along with other friends he didn't recognize. He was always a little nosey when it came to you, there weren't any boundaries in place when it came to privacy around Eddie. You had been friends since the 7th grade, growing up together in your awkward years really bonded the both of you.

You'd told Eddie earlier that you had gotten a new strain of pot from one of the guys you're friends with and that he could light up whenever. You'd left out the baggie and your grinder but Eddie left his bong at home and didn't see yours lying around so he searched for some rolling papers. Rifling through your bedside table is where he looked first. He shuffled through your hair ties, random articles, condoms...

Eddie had known you were no longer a virgin like he still was, he has had zero experience, not even a handjob. Needless to say, Eddie doesn’t get any…. Like ever. Poor thing tries his best but most of the girls he’s surrounded by are in high school and he wants nothing to do with them. He wants a grown woman. He really wants you if he is being honest but he never thinks that would happen in a million years.

He still was riffling deep in the drawer now, he felt something soft but firm, round and long. He picks it up to move it out of the way. He looks at what is your black vibrator. Why would she have a microphone? Eddie moved on quickly because he spots what he is looking for buried under all your crap.

Hours go by and you’re stumbling into your apartment laughing around 1:00am. You offered your room for Eddie to get ready for bed while you took the bathroom. Once you're finished you walk back into your room to see Eddie tucked into his side of the bed.

"I meant to ask you earlier but I forgot because we got too high" He laughed.

"Ask away" You crawled into your fresh sheets and snuggled into bed with Eddie.

"Why do you have a microphone?" He asked. You look at him quizzically because you have no idea what he's talking about.

"Are you sure that weed didn't alter your brain?" You laugh as your head hits the pillow.

"What do you mean? I saw it" He laughs.

"Dude I have no idea what you're talking about? Why would I have a microphone? I hate karaok- oof" Eddie cuts you off by leaning all his body weight over you to reach into your nightstand and pulls out your vibrator.

You start laughing uncontrollably, partly because you're a bit embarrassed, and partly from the alcohol.

"What?" Eddie questions inspecting it, once more. you grab it from his hands and turn it on. The object comes to life and a low buzz fills the room.

"Why is it buzzing?" Oh, your sweet innocent Eddie.

"Ummmm think of it more like a massager..." you turn it off and place it back on the nightstand you turn back to Eddie and can see the wheels in his head turning but no gas.

"Ugh, Eddie don't make me say it out loud" You bury your face in your hands and pillows not wanting to look at him when you say it.

"I don't get it, you're going to have to spell it out for me, Ms.University" he nudges your arm with his elbow.

"It's a vibrator Eddie, you know... like for sex"

The room was still dimly lit, enough for you to see Eddie's eyes go wide.

"It’s… it’s a sex toy?" he reaches over you once again to grab it off the nightstand.

“Eddie!” you shout then cover your mouth remembering the time of night.

“Give me that!” You try and grab it out of his hands. This whole situation was weird. You guys never spoke about sex, it just wasn’t that kind of friendship.

Yes, you liked Eddie, you’ve been crushing on him for years but you would never act on it, or at least you don’t think you would? Like a child, Eddie reached his arm up over so you couldn’t get it.

“No come on I’ve never seen one before” he pouts.

“Ok you’ve seen it now give it back!” You weren’t afraid to crawl over him to get it, you straddled his chest, enclosing him between your bare legs.

Your tiny sleep shorts were barely covering your cunt that was practically pressed into Eddie’s face.

“Ah ha!” You say victoriously grabbing it from Eddie’s grip.

Eddie can feel the blood rush from his face and into his cock. He shifts and clears his throat.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You hike your leg over him accident exposing your pussy even more to him.

Eddie’s eyes don’t break from your core. You’re blissfully unaware you just flashed your best friend.

“Sorry Ed’s didn’t realize” you joke.

“Uh yeah, it’s fine” You see Eddie shifting under the covers.

“So you always sleep without panties or is that just because I’m in your bed.” Eddie asks.

“Eddddddddddie oh my god” you burry your head in the pillows debating on sleeping on the couch at this point.

“I love when you moan for me baby” Eddie laughs, you try and hurry yourself further into the bed but Eddie grabs your waist and pulls you into him.

“You know babe, out of the two of us I should be the one mortified. I’m the twenty-year-old virgin not knowing what a sex toy looks like.” He grips into you tighter and you bury your face into his neck.

The alcohol is slowly leaving your system but you still blame it for what happens next.

“You don’t have to be” You timidly kiss into the hollow of where his neck and collarbone meet.

“What are you-oh that feels good” Eddie sighs into your touch, his chest raging and falling at a quicker pace.

“Will you let me take care of you Eddie?” You graze your hand lower down his bare chest, across his stomach down the the waistband of his boxers.

“Yes,” he nods frantically.

You shuffle back over him so you’re once again straddling him. You look down at your best friend, taking in his features, he is so pretty. You lean in timidly to kiss his lips for the first time. His plush lips felt so soft when they connected to yours.

It quickly heats up, you ground your hips into Eddie, you could feel his hard length pressing into your slit and you wiggled your hips on him. You hear a wine come from Eddie’s throat as you disconnect and start to kiss down from his neck to his happy trail.

“I’ve been dying to know what’s under here for years” You graze your hand lightly tracing Eddie’s tented boxers.

Eddie’s hips shoot up at the connection. “Eager aren’t we?” you giggle slowly revealing his length.

“Well you would be too if you’ve waited this long for you.” He sighed.

He was waiting for you.

You’re stomach flops, at his words and your eyes bulge out of your skull at the size of him.

“You’ve been hiding that you have a horse penis from me this whole time?!” You don’t really give Eddie time to answer because you latch your mouth into his tip, not sure how much more you’ll be able to fit into your mouth.

Eddie is in heaven, he isn’t sure what karma he is getting but he knows he must have done something right to have your head between his legs at this very moment.

It’s a feeling that he’s never felt before, the warmth of your mouth, the wetness of your lips mixed with the softness of your tongue was all-encompassing. You felt his hand rest on the back of your head, you looked up at him through your lashes, his face blissed out. Your core was dripping already at the feeling of Eddie in your mouth.

The way you were making him feel good was only making you wetter. You reached up to cup his hand on your head, coxing him to push you down.

“Oh fuck baby, please” he whimpered.

You took in more of him opening your throat for him. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft while using the other hand to move in tandem. You had Eddie whimpering “Oh my god just like that! Fuck you’re taking me so well”

For someone with no experience he sure wasn’t shy about praising you. It only made you want to pleasure him more. You were the first one to ever touch him like this. You were the first one to ever make him feel this euphoric.

“Fuck I’m not going to last long fuckfuckfuck” You were enjoying yourself too much that you didn’t care about what Eddie was telling you, you wanted him to cum, he deserved to cum.

“Wait wait I wanna…shit, I want you to be my first” he gently pushed you off him.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yea… I mean.. if you wanna?” he pants.

“I do Ed’s” but I gotta get myself ready, will you help me? Eddie nods enthusiastically as you lay beside him and he climbs on top of you.

You walked him through what to do, he was a quick learner. He kissed you down your neck like you did to him earlier. He touched you over your shirt at first, a bit shy. You told him he could touch you, and begged him to touch you as you lifted the big sleep shirt over your head. Eddie’s hands immediately latched on to your breasts kneeling them like stress balls.

“Softer please, you’re pinching me” You place your hands on the backs of his to guide him. You tell him that you like it when your nipples are touched.

He bowed his head lower, and tenderly he kissed the swell of your breast

“Is this ok?” He asks.

“Yes Eddie, more of that” he brought his warm mouth around your perked nipple.

“Oh yes,” you arched your back making your breast squish into Eddie’s nose.

Your head spun as he hummed into you, the vibration jolting to your core.

“I uh, don’t know what to do with my hands.” He admitted.

You took his right hand in yours and guided it past your waistband and overtop of your mound.

“Feel me Eddie I’ll tell you what feels good” Eddie’s thick fingers explored your pussy lips, slipping his fingers through your folds he grazes your clit and you jerk at the touch.

One thing about Eddie is that he is very receptive. He does it again to test the waters “oh fuck” you moan.

“You like that baby” his confidence was showing.

“Yes Eddie, fuck keep going”

“So this is what that little toy is for? This spot right here?” You nodded your head not able to speak.

Why was he so good at this?

“Can I try?” He sheepishly asks you.

“Yes, Eddie please” he reaches over to get the vibrator you had left resting on the bed.

“Hold down on the button to turn it on”

“Which one there are three? Why are there three?” He turns it finding the buttons.

“The bottom one, the others are to change the pattern and the speed” You point to the power button.

“Oh,” Eddie smirks.

“Ok playboy let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we will start on level one” The low buzzing filled the room once again.

“I should take off my shorts…” you awkwardly suggested.

You hook your fingers into the waistband and wiggle your hips up and out.

“Ok so, just put it where you put your fingers before” you guide him by the wrist.

The vibrator makes contact with your swollen clit. “Oh god yes!” You arch your back in pleasure.

The feeling of the buzzing on your clit shot waves of euphoria through you. Eddie couldn’t wipe the Cheshire Cat smile off of his face. Having you at his mercy could have him busting a nut here and now.

Eddie kissed you while holding down the vibrator like his life depended on it. You were starting to get squirmy, your hips gyrated into him

“More Eddie, you moaned into his mouth.

“What do you want?” He asks

“Your fingers, please” you wine.

He stops kissing you, you can see the nervous look in his eyes.

“It’s okay Eddie you won’t hurt me.” You brush a piece of hair behind his ear.

A shaky hand grazed your slick folds and pushed up slowly and back out again, he repeated that until you showed him what to do next.

“That’s it Eds” you sighed into his mouth.

“Now go like this” You wiggled your index and middle finger in a come hither motion.

The coil in your lower stomach was getting tighter with each pump of his fingers you were being wound up until it snapped, Eddie feels your walls clench down in him and the thought of you doing that with his cock inside you only got him even more excited.

“Oh fuck yes Eddie!” You cried out with pleasure. Your heavy breaths and the low buzz of the vibrations filled the room.

“Woah” Edd breaks the silence,

“It’s-too much Eds” You push his hand away that was still holding the toy to your sensitive clit.

“oh shit sorry” he throws it to the side of the bed and captures your lips into another kiss.

You break the kiss to reach over to the nightstand and grab your condoms.

“Holly shit this is really happening,” Eddie says under his breath but you hear him.

“If you still want to yeah” You sit up on your knees and tell Eddie to get on his back.

“I’ll be on top to start you off ok, Then if you want to switch let me know.”

He nods his head like a kid who was asked if they wanted their favourite ice cream. You push Eddie’s shoulder back so he is propped up just a little on the pillows you straddle him again getting yourself situated.

“You wanna put it on or do you want me to?” You raise your brows at him.

“I’ll uh-I’ll do it” he clears his throat. You pass him the blue foiled pack and he expertly slips it over himself.

“You practice this before?” You giggle, he tells you to shut up and you raise up to your knees you grip his solid length in your hand.

You slowly sink down onto him, and Eddie lets out a guttural moan. You cup a hand over his mouth, you don’t want to wake up your roomies.

“Shhhhhhh” you sink down slowly, the way he is stretching you out makes you feel so full. You finally make it all the way to the hilt.

“You okay” you ask Eddie. That was a silly question, of course, he is okay. You start by grinding your hips releasing your hand from his mouth.

“Yea, more than ok baby.” You started to bounce on his cock, the way he was stretching you felt otherworldly.

“Fuck that’s it, so good f’me” he grits out.

He really had confidence for someone’s first time, but that was because he was with you.

“Fuck Eddie you’re so big” You let your head fall back.

The sight in front of Eddie only brought him closer to the brink. Your tight, hot cunt swallowing him, your tits bouncing in his face, he was so close.

Eddie remembered what you said about your nipples being sensitive, he leans forward and latches on. Your eyes roll back in your head at the sensation. The room is filled with the sound of pants and skin slapping skin.

“Yes! Eddie yes yes yes” You grab the back of his head and tug on his hair.

He lets out a moan, so you do it again. Eddie loves it when you tug on his locks.

“Fuck baby I’m not gonna last much longer.” He tilts his head up to kiss you, he slips his tongue in your mouth.

You are all-encompassed by Eddie, no one else on earth matters but him in this moment.

You let out a small yelp when Eddie unexpectedly flips you on your back. He was feral, he never had felt this before in his life he had to hold on a bit longer, needing to savour this feeling forever.

The new position forced his cock to hit your walls at a better angle. He bends your legs so they are by your ears. The look in his eyes has you swimming, he is consumed by you, and he watches his cock disappear in and out of your walls.

“Fuck Eddie I’m close, touch me please” Eddie didn’t think twice about grabbing the vibrator.

The memory of your velvety walls clench his fingers and drove him to make sure you were the first to cum. He needed you to cum on his cock like he needs air in his lungs.

Eddie hammered into you at a pace much faster than you were capable of while riding him. The tingling of the vibrations shook through your core, in less than a minute you were cumming on his cock.

You open your mouth to scream with pleasure but nothing comes out, your body shakes with pleasure as your second orgasm consumes you.

The second you clenched down on Eddie he was cumming with you. An animalistic groan leaves Eddie’s throat as his hot ropes of cum spill into the condom.

Eddie collapses onto you with a breathy laugh.

“Oh my god why did I wait so long to do this” he giggled into the crook of your neck.

“Because you never made a move!” You joke back. Eddie pecks your face with a million and one kisses.

“Fuck, sweetheart can we do that again?” He rests his head on your chest, looking at you with those baby cow eyes.

He grabs your hand and brings it to his chin.

“Sure Eds we can do that as many times as you want” Eddie didn’t give you a chance to to recover before he pounced on you for round two….

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capslocked · 11 months

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 8

[prompt: phone sex]

male reader x shin ryujin

16k words

The phone rings one too many times, and Ryujin is in the middle of scrunching up the paper slip that Chaeryeong handed her earlier that afternoon when she hears your voice.

The sounds of her scrambling for the receiver and her head smacking against the headboard come through in pretty good quality.

That never gets old.

"Stimulating conversations," you offer smoothly, like it isn't a euphemism and instead some high-brow intellectual pursuit. "How can I help you?"

Ryujin is speechless for an unbearable five, ten seconds until she lets out the kind of low chuckle that probably sounds better than it looks. "Hi," she says, "hello, I, uh- I don't know how all of this works."

"Why don't we start with who you're looking to speak with tonight?" you ask.

Ryujin sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, looking at the messy tangle of clothes on her bedroom floor with mild resentment. She’ll take her chances, figuring a direct approach is the best route when she doesn't really know where any of the lines get drawn or who is allowed to say what and who isn't.

"Um. Okay. Who you got?"

"We have a large variety of operators to suit any taste," you explain kindly. She appreciates that. "Do you have someone specific in mind? A gender perhaps, to start?"

"Well," Ryujin starts, running her tongue along the edges of her teeth. Lia has this thing she constantly says, that there's always a thousand and one reasons not to do something, and Ryujin is the first person to make fun of her for it - but here she is, finally putting that adage to use.

"I was actually calling to, um," she exhales loudly. "A guy? I mean look - girls. Girls are great, but if you - mmm." She clears her throat. Because she knows how she wants to do this, and it's most definitely: "A man."

You wait for a second before replying, and Ryujin allows the stillness to expand over and fill out every corner of her bedroom before a bright, "Alrighty, well," comes filtering out her phone, tinny but as enticing as ever. "That would be me."

"Oh."

"Yeah," you reply, easy and unhurried. You sound exactly like the kind of person whose company people pay handsomely to be around; the professionalism is undeniable, but there's something to be said for your tone. The softness to the vowels, the almost imperceptible upward lilt to the words - Ryujin gets that, maybe.

You're pretty confident in the answer, but you ask anyway, "have you ever done anything like this?"

Ryujin opens her mouth and hesitates for a brief moment.

"Well," she muses. She's tried porn, she's tried her own fantasies, she's tried cranking up the hot water and touching herself with the head of the shower aimed somewhere she's told by other girls: it's there, free of charge. "I haven't."

"But you have a boyfriend," you state. "You have a man, who you enjoy things with?"

Ryujin laughs nervously. "It's...it's been a little while. Not recently. Sorry. I know you don't-"

"No, no, not at all, you're doing fine, it's just that you sound very attractive over the phone. Excuse the assumption."

Ryujin laughs and rakes her fingers through her fringe. She knows it's a line, but she laughs anyway. She could - if she was looking for the deranged fulfillment of it - pore through a billion comments on instagram, on twitter that call her a lot of things: gorgeous, beautiful, hot. The last comment she read before almost deleting her app entirely was someone who decided to textually imitate a dog barking to a picture Yeji had taken of her in a coffee shop. There's a novelty, she thinks, in being charmed by someone who has no idea who she is.

"You have good ears then," she says, smirking into the receiver. "So do you normally do, what, ask questions? I have no idea."

"Yeah, it helps me build a profile," you reply, "but if you had something else in mind-"

"No, please, shoot." She grabs the pillow from behind her back and flops against the mattress, staring up into the ceiling fan.

"Do you feel comfortable sharing your age with me?"

"Twenty," she answers without missing a beat, even though that isn't right. It's weirdly important to her, keeping it private, and she isn't sure why - but then you say something pleasant and complimentary about college and new experiences that she's unable to register, and you ask her for her name so quick she just blurts it out:

"Ryujin."

"Pretty."

"Fuck," Ryujin grins, immediately chewing on her knuckle to bite back a gasp. "Sorry. The name is cute or, whatever. Whatever. Sorry for the curse. God, I don't really have a filter - what about you? Do you have a name, Mr. Operator?"

"I do."

Ryujin lifts a leg up and puts it down again. She doesn't know if she should already have taken off her pajamas or if that's weird. Or if the fact that it doesn't bother her means this is more or less wholesome. She turns over onto her stomach, humming into the phone and now she doesn't know why she's thinking about your face. You could be- well, fuck, you could be anyone, but there's this gnawing compulsion to put something together.

You tell her your name and she scoffs for a second, before quieting down and returning you a, "pretty."

"Ryujin, tell me." There's probably a slightly too long pause from your end of the line before you get on with asking her, "when was your last orgasm?"

She drops the phone right in her face. It bounces off the bridge of her nose before landing in bedsheets beside her and her eyes are welling with tears while she scrambles blindly across her bed, cursing into the receiver and squirming. She pulls the phone to her ear and catches the last couple seconds of you reassuring her that it's okay, that it's completely fine if she's hung up or gone.

"Actually, I have," and she curls her fingers into a fist, "never came in my whole life."

You clear your throat to keep a less than professional sound from coming out. A quiet space she feels necessary to fill: “Not even once.”

"Really?"

"I know. And I've only recently realized that's, uh - er- a pretty un-normal thing." Ryujin makes a waving motion with her hand even though you can't see it, trailing off into silence and blushing furiously. "Sorry," she apologizes. She doesn't know what she’s apologizing for, but she does it again. "Sorry about that."

"I should be the one feeling sorry for you," you rib.

"Fucking tell me about it."

"Hey, this reminds me, would you be averse to the idea of touching yourself?"

The question stutters Ryujin in her tracks, and she doesn't even say no but a drawn-out "nngh" leaks out before she can stumble into something more intelligible. "Isn't that, like, what you're supposed to do on these calls?"

"Every call is different, Ryujin."

She chews on her lower lip, rolling it under her front teeth. You say her name like you know her, and it's throwing her for a loop. The comfort you have with the whole situation - asking her a million questions and not demanding answers, taking cues and reassurances in stride and turning everything into some sort of ploy for getting her naked. Fuck, she'll take a bit of a plunge:

"Should I be touching myself?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Okay, well that's kind of a frustrating answer."

"So you're saying you like being told what to do," you tell her, and you hear the sharp inhale in reply.

"If I knew what I liked, you think I'd be calling a sex hotline and hoping some stranger might take pity on me?"

You laugh out loud, and her response is the quickest, the cutest little, "seriously!" before she chuckles too.

"Ryujin?" you ask.

"Yeah?"

"Are you straight?"

She nearly chokes - because it's like you're able to just read her mind - and if you can do that then there's nothing you can't do, maybe. And here, excitement feels a lot like apprehension. She twists and curls in on herself, thighs rubbing together, the flat of her hand traveling across her stomach.

"I'm-"

"Because no one should have to pretend that they're interested in guys," you interrupt her and, god, for as much time as she's spent dwelling on that, she wishes it were that simple.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if she knew why she wanted to get her face between Yeji's thighs and drag her tongue all over her clit until that prettier-than-perfect face of hers cinches up in a pleasure that comes with just the right amount of agony - or if she knew why she didn't feel anything like remorse or guilt or envy when her boyfriend came around instead of wanting, you know, to get on her knees with her mouth around his cock too -

Fuck, it's all very complicated.

"Straight," she answers. She likes cock, as much as anyone realistically can, and she knows the body on a man can get her dripping and easy in all the right ways. So, she just swallows. Says, "straight enough."

"If you were to touch yourself, right now, and someone - say, a man - were telling you exactly what to do: what would spring to mind, if anything."

"Mmm. Is this you asking me to touch myself?"

"Again. That's up to you."

Your voice is light. Very pleasant. Very male, Ryujin realizes. She gulps.

"Can you, I mean," she says, running a hand down the length of her thigh, pressing down at the hollow.

"Ryujin,” you say, letting her mull over how it sounds in your mouth. “Take a breath for me, please."

Her exhale leaves her with a heavy push and she tries not to laugh. Nervous tic. She's getting goosebumps, but she feels warmer than before.

"We could say this isn't the first time, you and me, in some very broad and abstract sense. How does that make you feel?"

"Strange." She touches her outer thighs again and arches her back. "Kind of horny," she admits. And it is odd - your words, the things you say - and maybe it's her nerves because the experience is new, and so are you, and so are her feelings, all wrapped in one.

"Do you want to do something about that?"

There's silence between you for what seems like a very long time, your breathing quiet but apparent - a signal you haven't abandoned her in some state of vulnerability. Ryujin inhales deeply. She's shaking in her fingertips. The tension has her taut and waiting, and that's funny, really, because it's what she's been doing for years. The rubbing. The touching.

Her hips rock forward gently and she answers the unasked question with a sweetly husked, "uh-huh."

"What are you wearing?"

"Ah, really?" Ryujin laughs. Her fingers pause at her waistline. "That old, bad porn trope."

"I like hearing about people's clothes, is all," you excuse yourself lightly. "Helps me get a sense of things."

"Yeah, alright. Sweats. Baggy ones." Her lips fall apart. "Shirt."

"Is that all? Nothing sexy."

"What's sexy?"

"Sexy is…"

She listens to you mull it over, listening for a ruffling or two. "For a girl with a nice body - some body - some curves," you continue, and Ryujin has to drop another finger to the hot line of her thigh, her lower belly. "You need lace. Silk. You've gotta leave the best bits a little hidden, at least for a while longer."

"Wow. You sound a hell of a lot like you'd enjoy taking someone's pants off," she half-teases. "Do you make all your calls like this? One sordid fantasy at a time, huh?"

"Something like that," you reply. And then, as if reading her mind, "are you doing anything, right now?"

"I'm touching myself," she exhales. "Are you?"

"Ryujin, not yet. Please be patient."

She makes a face even though you can't see it or taunt her. That's an unfair request - you have an unfair request.

"Just, wait," you tell her. She's drawing lazy, winding circles across her thigh. "Let me show you something, will you do that for me?"

"But, what."

"Tell me everything. All the things you're thinking. Things you want to do."

"Everything?"

"Yes."

She blinks away her initial disbelief and reaches around for her lamp to switch it off. Until it's just the hallway light peeking in through the crack between her door and the door jamb and you, a stranger who won't be seeing her face or hearing her say anything stupid. She shakes out a few more breaths, shuffles against the sheets, and glides her fingertips past her belly button.

Her hand rises up her stomach in one decisive movement, until her fingers curl beneath the bottoms of her bra, trapped in its underwire. "I'm thinking - unh - about, ah. My friend?"

You're quiet and let the silence linger, until she seems like she might not find her way; so you repeat, "Go ahead."

"And a guy she used to like, fuck, she'd show up here, drunk on, ah. A weeknight. Somewhere, fuck, around midnight. Walk past me into the kitchen where we had the - the light. God." Her hips stutter and she grits out the rest through her teeth. "In the refrigerator. Ah, yeah, a midnight snack. Always looked way too fucking good for, um, oh, for a casual booty-call."

"Does your friend have a name?"

"Yuna," she practically pants, and immediately realizes she shouldn't have said that either.

"Did you always know what was going on? Between Yuna and her-"

"Boy-toy, yes - it was so obvious, I always knew, yeah," she said, clumsily grabbing the sheets with one hand as she drifts further between the peaks. "Just - fuck - he'd be picking at, ah, something with chopsticks."

"In your kitchen?"

"My, uh, table. And I'd be working up the nerve to ask."

You sigh over the phone, "ask him what?"

"What it was, like, I knew she was only- shit." She keens high in her throat. "What it was like, fucking taking that cock of his, and bending Yuna's tight little, ah, ass over and, mm, railing her on the side of her fucking bed - and just pumping her full of cum just like that until- Jesus, she would walk around after and sometimes-"

You groan softly. This encouraging little sound.

"-fuck - sorry, I mean. Yeah, he, sometimes he'd make her walk around with his, ah, stuff inside. Down her fucking pants and, it's like, fucking disgusting, I swear-"

"And?" You breathe a heavy edged noise over the line.

Actually okay, so maybe this was more than she bargained for, maybe she bit off more than she can chew - maybe, she feels like her insides are collapsing; all the fire pooling around in her stomach and gathering into a melting sort of weightlessness.

"And it makes me feel fucking-"

"Fucking what."

"Why am I talking about this, why-"

"Talking to me? Fucking wet, Ryujin, answer the question."

She pants down at her phone and then turns her face into her forearm, rubbing and making sounds. She thinks about, oh, fucking Yuna and how she showed up to hang out once, with cum leaking down the crease of her inner thigh, smearing against her skin and down between her legs.

"Wet." She swallows. "How do I-"

"Say that you wish it was you," you tell her. "That you wanted that, to be fucked. To feel a cock inside."

Her head falls back. "That," she manages, "fucking, that."

You drawl so that the question might roll off, easy: "Is that the kind of girl you are? Told not to curse, not supposed to let anyone else play with you - you just need it, don't you? Do you need someone's cum? Just tell me."

"I think so, ah," and she stops moving her hand. "I think I'm gonna go now. This is fucking embarrassing, like. Okay, sorry."

"Don't hang up," you tell her, and the soft edge to it is one she really wants to indulge. "Don't," you repeat, a little louder.

You start talking, about the same sorts of things she's imagined herself: the sex and the sounds and what he can do to her. You build a slow and aching heat between her thighs that has her dripping through her underwear and grinding against her fingers. Telling her how she's the one that needs to be filled, needs a man who can wrap her legs around his waist, get to the deepest parts of her, the parts untouched and willing.

Ryujin gets that - she wonders, half out of it and stroking faster than she usually would be, how much of it has anything to do with who the voice is on the other end of the receiver, and how it could be what a desperate, pathetic, tired part of her has always wanted.

"Are you?" she asks, panting over the phone.

"Am I what?" you whisper back to her.

"Are you," and you hear how she inhales sharply through her nose, a desperate gasp leaving her lips on the exhale, "going to, um. Are you touching yourself right now?"

Your reply is immediate, and her eyes flutter and close the second you tell her exactly what she wants to hear:

"God, yes."

She drags her hand up the center of her body, runs her fingertips over her jaw and presses the heel of her wrist to her neck to feel her pulse slamming hard.

"I'm fucking throbbing, Ryujin; you sound gorgeous like this, like nothing I've ever heard, I'm stroking my cock just picturing you, please-"

"Tell me." She's mouthing into the center of her palm, saying the words, tasting salt and musk. "Fuck, ah," she babbles, "tell me what you would do with me."

"I'd get you on your knees," you tell her without hesitating for a beat.

"Fuck."

"I'd come up behind you and tell you not to be scared, baby. I wouldn't hurt you, I'd just touch you real gentle. Push my fingers past your tongue, slide a little down your throat."

"Uh huh," she moans, her head falling back and rolling, rocking against the mattress.

"Want you sucking on my fingers. Need your hands around my cock, or better, my balls, play with them. You're going to take those fingers - every finger I got, all five, yeah?- all ten of them," you joke, "and open up your tight cunt - like you are now, like such a good fucking girl-"

The girl fucking yelps. Just this honest sound of depravity; it's what she's paying you for. It's a silly line of bullshit, but it makes her bite hard and ache a little around her own knuckles and moan in her palm and dig her nails hard into her flesh. Her thumb fumbles across the top edge of her underwear and you pant again into her ear as if on cue, giving her a small bit of guidance that has her jolting in pleasure. She didn't know that was there, fuck, fuck-

"Like that, Ryujin. Breathe," and she does.

"Please," she whines, trying to find somewhere for her arm to settle, resting finally in her hair - setting the phone to speaker in a foolish moment of lapsed-judgment, just before it nearly clatters off the side of her bed.

Keep going - she's telling you over and over - keep going, and you’re picturing her there: eyes closed, legs spread wide, bent knees quivering and toes curling into the sheets. It doesn’t sound fake - you've heard a million of them, you've learned them in their different tones and accents and you can spot a faker a mile away. And the girl on the phone right now isn't pretending or thinking about whatever's happening somewhere else.

(You don't join in for everyone. You can't. It's an asinine consideration that you'd be rubbing your fist up and down your cock while it's sore and wanting - aching from the neglect or lack of rhythm. You have to remind yourself it's just a job, that the logistics just can't support such selflessness.

But then there's the very fucking premise.

That the girl on the other end of the line is inches from the goalposts, fingering her cunt and sighing into the throes of her first orgasm - first ever, because you did this, you brought her this far - you're the fucking culprit, and no matter how many girls, or boys-pretending-to-be-girls, how many people have gotten off with the help of your voice, your instruction, this one sets a different fucking precedent.

You're not lying when you say, "I'm rock fucking hard, Ryujin," or "there's precum all over my knuckles, baby."

Because there is, and the poor thing chokes out another desperate sound when you tell her.)

"I'm right there, ah, fuck, keep going-"

"I've got my hand around my shaft, just enough that I can fuck it, can't I? The head is getting slick - baby - and my palm is gliding nice and easy. Are you cumming, Ryujin? You better be, you better be cumming right now."

There's a heaving gasp and she calls out for you, babbling curses and "please" and "fuck" in alternating succession, with enough punctuation for you to have to let your lip slip under the hard bite of your front teeth. "Don't stop," she tells you, voice thready.

"You need this so bad."

"Yes," she gasps. "How would you-"

"How would I fuck you?" you finish her thought.

She waits a moment, sucking in shallow breaths and then replying weakly, "I really like... I like doggy."

"On your knees?"

"Yeah," she stammers, "I like when, like- ah, like, pulling my hair."

"Fuck, I love that," you say into her mewling. "Splayed out with your tits against a pillow and getting your pretty, little pussy pounded? I bet that'd feel so good, huh? Hands so rough on your hips, on your throat, squeezing your neck so you'll turn pink. Just to see you smile, I'd probably fucking let you take whatever you want."

You're met with a broken moan, a long string of syllables ending on a note that has your shoulders clenching and cock jumping in your grip.

Tense over the things you can't see: Ryujin biting down into the side of her hand, the other knocking painfully against the wooden side rail on her mattress, her thighs tightening and screaming and clamping around her wrist as she pulls weaker, wilder whimpers out of her chest each time her fingers drag across her slit and the sensitive curve of her swollen clit. She's dying, she thinks, she's going to fucking die - the in and out of her soaked pussy, through all that sticky, satiny skin, slick fingers diving in, twisting until there's nowhere for them to go.

No other recourse than to fuck in, fuck, fuck, like that, fucking god.

There's heavy silence on the line for god knows how long - well, you have to check the log. But for her, it feels like fucking forever. That was - that was it. It's so fucking mind-wracking how good it was, she can't quite wrap her brain around it. Nowhere near. She thinks she'll have a better idea after two rounds, definitely by four. She'll buy something, use the discount, go shopping - an orgasm just to make sure she's not bullshitting herself.

You clear your throat.

She moves sluggishly, away from the side and against the headboard - the heat still unbearably oppressive, her t-shirt clinging and sticking. "That," she stumbles through the afterglow.

"Do I need to apologize to you?" you ask lightly.

"What? Oh god, no - no way. No way. I just."

"Yes?"

"Like I didn't know it was this-"

"Did you just cum, Ryujin?"

She's laying there with the phone pressed to her brow. A hand palmed over her own racing pulse. The faint smell of her own cunt lingering around her face.

"I don't know," she tells you, and promptly hangs up.

The darkness in Ryujin's bedroom is punctuated only by the faint, hazy light streaming in from the hall, and her bedroom fan making its creaking little circles, as she waits in her post-nut-high for her breathing to normalize. Her mind is buzzing, and out of all this, she has a hell of a bill and a couple conclusions:

She's a coward and a pervert, but definitely, definitely bisexual.

Or, like. She's in some weird gray area between not liking whenever anyone buys her drinks, but also the girls at least let her dance a little close. That's a strange thing, isn't it? For how often her mouth does stupid shit - you think at least someone would figure it out for her.

But you, oh fuck. You-

She's fucking shaken up, for sure.

(It's a home office set-up, actually.

Your desk isn't organized; you're sure the photos on the wall are askew and the paint looks slightly worse for wear if you were to turn the lights on - which you never really do. There's an aging lamp tucked into the back corner, a bottle of scotch next to your handset that's closer to halfway empty than halfway full, and you can't stop imagining it.

Promise, This never happens.

You've got the name stuck to the roof of your mouth even though you know it's fake. Stuck with something so painfully abstract. Imagining this girl that is probably as brash and bawdy as her voice, or more exciting than either - maybe her hair is long enough to brush along her breasts. Or maybe it hangs just over her shoulders. God knows just how that would frame her features.

You can see it, really. You pump a handful of coconut oil into your palm and the details solidify so easily in your head: her pretty mouth, nose, the dimples in her cheeks - eyes glazed and sultry and gazing at you.

Smelling sweet, all the places you need, skin hot, clit swollen-

Just- fuck. Fuck.

Ryujin, huh, imagine that.

Ryujin.

And you jerk off right into the soft embrace of a tissue.)

A little more than a week later:

Ryujin's all wrapped up on the couch, with an arm cushioning her head and watching TV when there's a sudden commotion from the front door. Yuna - her friend, her very nice, very male friend who never shows up after midnight unless there's a promise of sex - comes bumbling into the room.

He has no regard for boundaries.

So,

Yuna starts to say, smug, from where the hallway becomes the living room, "Ryujin - look at us. Stuck on a Friday night. You gotta boyfriend or something?"

She's completely unfazed by this interaction. She's pretty sure he has his own key, so like, he should be used to it by now too.

"Kind of." She shuts off the TV to turn her attention towards the topic at hand. "Why?"

Yuna runs a hand through all her long, silky hair and gestures her cock-du-jour on over to the door of her room. "Waiting for a call, maybe." She waggles her eyebrows. "Are you any good, I mean, you never seem to..."

Annoying brat.

Ryujin smacks the back of her neck and interrupts, "you gonna fuck him? Go ahead and fuck him, Yuna." She checks the lock. The kitchen. Gets up and tries to ignore the heat flaring behind her ears.

"We could pretend," Yuna muses, tugging the waistband of Ryujin's shorts around her fingers before she's out of arm's reach. The elastic flips back into her waist with a dull snap.

"Dumb idea. That's a dumb, dumb idea," she reasons, because she knows Yuna has no self control. None, and it's showing; the second her shoulders sag forward and her eyes dart, craving, Ryujin steps back in. "Don't be stupid."

Yuna's lips are tilted, playful. Ryujin wants to smack that look right off her face. Like she fucking deserves any kind of victory just because she found out she can fuck anyone she wants while lacking the self-awareness to somehow be contented with anyone. She's not going to call her a slut - out of a matter of principle - but god, does she fucking want to.

"Gotta get ready, is what you should do," Ryujin mumbles under her breath.

"Fine." Yuna shrugs and pecks an annoying kiss to Ryujin's temple on her way to the shower, waving a hand over her head with a casual, "If you want something, you've only got a half-hour."

Ryujin pushes her hair out of her face and does what she does best: overanalyze and overthink the situation.

Whatever. Yuna won't give it up regardless, not in any way she'd actually be able to enjoy. Her cheeks go a little redder while she pretends to not be considering it.

God, a threesome in total functional harmony however: her working her mouth on Yeji (Ryujin doesn't know why she's thinking about Yeji, but she is), Yeji working her mouth on her boyfriend, her boyfriend working his mouth on her -

That'd be something, she thinks. Like one of those Escher diagrams, but one where everyone cums at the end.

The thought makes Ryujin wet enough to squeeze her thighs together and stand up a little straighter.

Then she hears the showerhead turn on, and she wonders just why, exactly, Yuna is such a spoiled asshole.

Turns out,

The universe just has this habit of providing Ryujin with what she wants right alongside everything she doesn't.

She’s stretched out in her sweats, sat up at the top of her bed again and touching herself beneath the sheet in a pointless attempt to contain the mess. Fucking horny - it's honestly unbelievable - and her left hand's making lecherous, slick noises until it's absolutely gross. Until Ryujin's gasping and panting and sweating from the nape of her neck and the back of her knees.

All because Yuna's the loudest little-fucking-whore of a roommate anyone has ever heard.

She's moaning like she's getting fucking plowed into the next life. And apparently, the cock she's got in her cunt is fucking huge if those little murmuring whimpers are anything to go on. She keeps begging the guy, coy, for a kiss while she's probably folded up like a lawn chair in there, getting railed, and the fact that the boy keeps obliging is as admirable as it is kind of insulting.

"Goddamn," she thinks out loud, because the walls are paper-fucking-thin. The apartments in the area are built in an earthquake-safe way, which in reality, means they can either withstand a magnitude 6.0 and come out without any severe structural damages - or that it's so cheaply constructed the building will go down like a matchbox house before it stands a chance against a tremor of any significance.

They're easier to replace that way she’s told. And Ryujin's apartment is definitely of the latter; she can hear everything.

The skin on skin, their bodies sliding together in the slippery sheets. Her mouth smacking wet around his tongue as he bucks forward and asks her to do a hundred filthy things, asking her where it feels best - that sort of thing, which gets her wound and agitated and frustrated, and fucking horny as fuck. Ryujin's bent-inward and panting when he really gets to work - the creaks and groans, their mingled pants and the constant thudding and swaying of the headboard smacking into the wall.

She doesn't even need to put her ear to the partition like she's sixteen years old all over again, hoping to catch her old brother going at it while her mom was out. Trying to figure out this whole sex thing - what all the fuss was about.

Just the way Ryujin sighs is nothing short of despondent. Slightly pitiful.

And every tight circle she's running over clit feels so fucking good, until she realizes the room goes real quiet for a bit. The stillness - no slapping, no movement, just wet, panted-breaths and muffled speech. She nearly asks aloud what's wrong - but she hears it: Yuna's hushed but totally undeniable,

"Been so long- don't, don't- hold up," she croons in these high, sing-song little huffs. "That - uhn, ah - that's my - that's my good spot, there, keep - yes, harder!"

Ryujin slams her eyes closed, dropping down onto the mattress and wishing she'd slipped her hands into her sweats sooner. Fuck. And as Yuna's back starts banging against the wall - so rhythmic and fucking thorough - Ryujin can feel the heat curling behind the backs of her knees, radiating along her calf and reaching into the smalls of her feet. Fuck. Fuck, she doesn't even get to watch.

Right there. So good, please, so fucking good, is what Ryujin can’t not hear coming right through the drywall.

She’s three knuckles deep in her pussy, all stretched out, and she's practically drooling - "spread me, baby. Hold the, fuck, spread my lips open. See me- unh. Ah - see me? Please, do it-" - the boy groaning about it as he fucks her, and then, Yuna, needling him with a quiet, breathy, "harder, can't you?"

The answer seems to make Yuna squirm and scream.

And Ryujin's nearly rolling - rocking, fucking humping her own fingers because it's starting to ache a little, a cramping in her wrist and arm and jaw that she's trying really hard to ignore, rubbing and fingering and fucking herself closer, the heels of her feet sinking hard against the sheets, throbbing and aching around the flicks of her knuckles, harder, faster - faster -

"Fucking hell-" she seethes and stops moving all at once - because god, Yuna is un-fucking-believable.

The absolute bitch, she's doing it again: squealing and cursing and calling his name into her orgasm and just basking, it sounds like, right in it. Because she always does this, every single fucking time, she acts like it's the best feeling in the fucking world and she fucking loves everything, and that shit just - Ryujin grits her teeth and grimaces and pulls her slick fingers from her body - that just ruins it.

All that build-up and for what?

Fuck, Yuna really has the nerve to go there too. She's talking about sucking her own damn cunt or some bullshit-

Yeah, it's not fucking fair, Ryujin concedes.

Or maybe she's being punished. She could live with that, but god. The unfairness of it all. She tries, for a half a minute, to let her throbbing stop being a goddamn nuisance. But the noises coming from the other room are making her crankier, more angry, more irate - and definitely hornier than she ever really intended, even though she knows Yuna is thoroughly distracted in there.

Ryujin sits up a little straighter. Squares her shoulders, steadies herself and fishes around in her pockets with her uncoordinated, cum-coated hands until she finds her wallet, a credit card, her cell -

And there's an aching, a sore pulse of neglect between her legs; that's all too much. A quick peek down confirms that, yep, she's practically dripped right out of her shorts and even gotten a dark spot in the front of them. How great is that.

Yuna is over there, all, "thank you - ah - can you please do me a favor and fuck my mouth with your big, big, huge, fucking cock-" and this guy, he sounds so patient, telling her how he wants to do exactly that, but he wants to fill her tiny pussy up first, fuck her here, fuck her there, fuck a baby right into her. Wants to get his cum all over her face, smear her mouth and her throat and her cheeks -

Ryujin inhales through her nose and holds, eyes falling closed in something between misery and anguish.

He's telling her, yeah, of course he'll fill up her throat - give her so much it's leaking out of her fucking nose - and Yuna sounds like she's moaning and garbling an objection to that last part - but it doesn't actually fucking matter.

"Geez," is Ryujin's quiet, little gasped-out response. He just fucking pounds her right back into place; her next orgasm. Fuck-

And there it is: the slew of moans that start back up and just keep on keeping on.

Shin Ryujin is going to lose her fucking mind.

Ryujin only lasts a handful more days before she calls again.

It’s another Wednesday night, if only to increase the odds that you’re working. Yeah, she could go with another guy, but another guy might not do everything you did, talking quietly and calmly - so composed while Ryujin was losing some part of her sanity to the thumb she pressed on her clit.

No, it has to be you.

That's what Ryujin makes herself say when the operator apologizes and explains you're busy.

"Will he be working much longer? Please, I, um-"

"If you give me your number," the operator tells her, "I can add him as a preferred associate. You'll get him next time instead of going to the line."

Ryujin pauses, finger held to her chin. Will he know that? There's all this implication isn't there, that maybe he won't. Maybe you're popular - are you? It's a lot like texting someone for the very first time. And if you did - know, she means - would she be acting like a stalker? It would feel weird, probably, but no worse than some people do it already.

Oh god, this is kind of fucked up.

Maybe a little. Maybe.

Ryujin pauses, finger to her chin. Will he know that? There's all this implication, isn't there, or maybe he won't. Maybe you're popular - are you? It's a lot like texting someone you like-like for the very first time. And if you did - know, she means - would she be acting like a stalker? It would feel weird, probably, but no worse than some of things other people are undoubtedly doing with this service, Ryujin decides, and rattles off the digits so fast the operator asks for clarification.

"If your schedule doesn't open," the line says, "call back and leave a message with when."

Ryujin shrugs and says, "yeah, okay."

You make Ryujin sit through forty-five-fucking minutes of on-hold music - this barely audible synthetic noise that signals a connection is still there, truly a genre for no one - all before she just cuts the fucking line and lays down on the couch.

Okay.

Okay, fine.

Whatever.

(You are… going through the motions.

Some girl on the other line is barely holding it together; you can hear her thighs making slick noises. God. She sounds desperate, she's holding the phone all tight and saying your name. She's fucking babbling; it's not attractive, not while you're tilted back as far as your office chair will go and staring up in the ceiling.

You're bored, mostly.

"Please, please, I'm-"

"Going to cum, I know, princess." She asked you to call her that. "Mouth all open? Can't help it? Just need to lick it nice and fast?"

The answer comes all choppy: "I can't, ah, a-ah-nymore, no, I, can't, need-"

"Do you have any idea? How hard I'm fucking stroking my cock right now? Sitting right in my lap. Jerking it right for you," you say, and then she makes an embarrassingly wet noise, gasping through a choked whine, "so I'm ready to give you what you really fucking need."

"Yes," she chokes. "There - um, please, I just-"

"The biggest fucking load," you tell her. She has no idea, really, that you've got one hand on the receiver, the other just pinching the bridge of your nose - neither of which are you jerking the cum out of your cock and balls like a fucking hydrant as you’d described. What she doesn't know won't hurt her, and you keep your face turned to the side as she starts screaming. As it starts running into one noise that lasts forever - so unbearable that, this time, you consider going out to the bathroom to grab a glass of water and a handful of painkillers. "Need it deep. Let me pour it in, yeah?"

"Yes," she gasps again, heard on this distant frequency because, yes, yes, you've plugged your ear with a finger.

"That'll satisfy you. C'mon, now, princess - give it right up," you tell her, but your eyes are a little dull when her moan turns out all-gagging and twitchy and spasming through it, until finally:

"Ugh."

You wait a moment for the gasping and hitching to finish.

"Good girl," is your distant reply, followed by a polite, perfunctory, "call back anytime.")

Ryujin feels like she's in grade eleven again as she stares at her phone. Boys. Drama. Girls. The drama.

The overanalyzing, the wondering, the hesitating. Fuck. She wishes she knew a way to change this, because she doesn't feel particularly mature and is somehow reduced to this girl, this idiot sitting here all embarrassed and staring and moping about a thousand different calamities at once.

She's looking right at the lock screen: the wallpaper of her and Yeji and Chaeryeong out getting coffee on a random Sunday, all bundled up. Winter. Like three, four years ago, maybe.

Ryujin looks like shit, it's funny.

But Yeji -

How she can make the winter pallor look good is beyond Ryujin's understanding. It's unfair. All the things are. Her brain is back and forth and spinning, spinning like the hands on the old clock hung up on the wall in the kitchen. So stuck on what's not quite normal. Stuck on what doesn't fucking matter - who even fucking cares who the fuck she's attracted to?

She feels it between her legs.

Has been for like a month, or longer, without an outlet. Without anything to give her the hint that maybe she can get back to it - the right it.

She doesn't need to call, she tells herself. She's not some weirdo who's sitting on this for days just in the hopes that her boyfriend is having a bad week with work or whatever. It's only Wednesday, technically. Still way early. Just another few days, she reasons, another few hours - what does it matter?

Wednesday. She can feel the word settle inside of her.

Though only once her bottom lip is chewed to hell, does she pick up her phone and decide she will.

(You're in your bedroom this time around, finishing up your own weekday workout - on the bike, fifteen-second sprints - when your phone goes off. A simple dinging. Very unassuming.

The operator comes in with a cool, level, "line two, callback."

Then there's nothing but silence for a few beats.

You towel some of the sweat off your face. It's warm - your skin, flushed. Bouncing your phone in your palm. The same feeling that's been tugging at your throat for the past two weeks starts to flare and swell.

Not quite a hope, not quite expectation: just something close.

"Are they still there?"

The operator confirms. "Shall I put them through?")

Ryujin fumbles in her own rush of bravado, hands pressing against the fronts of her thighs in an unflattering, nervous little gesture as the connection clicks and picks up.

"This is him," comes your voice, a little husky and raspy from all the day-to-day talk, but even and easygoing and maybe - just maybe - something she can hang on to. Ryujin gives an acknowledging "Mmmn," like the phone call isn't causing her major inner-turmoil.

"Right, ah." You sound kind of, dare she say, nervous yourself. You clear your throat into the line and ask, "what brings you here, stranger?"

Ryujin pauses at this; the red in her ears reaches her fucking jaw. Stranger. Jesus christ, okay, okay-

She laughs. Stops immediately at how self-conscious she sounds. Clears her throat and tucks some of her hair back - settles herself into it like her life hangs in the balance. "I'm here to get my rocks off."

"It's not usually my place to say," you begin in earnest, "but if you're anything like me, and this is gonna sound completely off-the-cusp, but those two weeks really seem to build up, don't they?"

God.

She pulls her sock off her ankle. There's eczema on her heel, and it's the kind of thing she can imagine Yeji telling her to not scratch - that she's going to fuck up her skin. It's funny the stupid fucking things she can remember and all the things she forgets. Like just now, with your voice in her ear, a little unsure in a way that says you've got other, much more important things you should be doing. But you're here with her.

With Ryujin.

God. She might hate herself a little.

"Um," is how she finds her bearings. "Actually."

"It's a joke. Not that- I mean." She hears some rustling - assumes it's coming through the ear piece. There's an abrupt slamming on her side of the line and it seems like the worst kind of deja-fucking-vu. Her neighbors. She forgets it's even this late into the evening. That other people don't have to work so hard in their free-time.

"Maybe this isn't a good night," she says, not so much as thinking the words.

"What?" you ask. Then it dawns on you. "No, no. If you're there, I'm here." You clear your throat. "Besides, there's nobody I'd rather hear from than a woman so desperate she's signed onto my frequent flier's club."

She stops chewing the insides of her cheeks long enough to give you a tired, irritated sound. "Whatever."

And you nearly choke trying not to laugh.

"I don't, um-"

"What, do I have a nice voice?" You laugh quietly.

Under normal circumstances, that wry edge, the bit of try-hard-humor would have her rolling her fucking eyes clean out of their sockets. So when instead she opens her mouth and a fatal-fucked-flirty-feminine, stop, comes out, the vowel pulled long like a plea or a request - well, Ryujin's forehead drops against her bedspread in immediate regret.

You seem startled by it too, going quiet for a second.

"I-I'm-"

"Cute," you decide.

Her ears are red-hot and her cheeks have to be pinking and god, she hates this. That she's hearing this so soon, and it's making her brain hazy and soft and stuttering through, um's and yeah, well, um's. A part of her can't believe she's paying for this, and then, at the same time, she can't believe she's not actually putting cash down for more right this second.

Because it feels -

Like maybe -

Her shoulders rise. She wants this to be quick; she hates this feeling of embarrassment creeping its way in and grabbing onto her with both hands, like this weird, pseudo-affection. She's a grown fucking woman and here she is, letting all her guard down for someone she doesn't even fucking know.

You can feel the tension, hear it. Your lips purse. You try for something easy.

"Go on and give me the details, Ryujin."

Before you'd even picked up, she'd already half-undone her shirt, the flaps of the collar hanging loose with her hands gently petting her ribcage - so easily giving and pliant that there's a good portion of her, in spite of the doubt, in spite of what seems completely illogical about all this, that has her realizing maybe she wants this more than she can possibly understand.

God, she feels like a fucking fool.

"It's pretty boring."

"Not to me. I've spent the last few weeks talking to a bunch of assholes who don't appreciate what they got in the first place," you reply. She imagines you're a little playful about it. Wonders, momentarily, how good that smirk looks - if your eyebrows are lifting like you've been teasing her since day one. Fuck.

“Your operator is a total asshole too, by the way."

"Don't say that," is Ryujin's shy reply, practically moaned out. "You sound like someone I'd absolutely fucking hate, jesus, stop that."

"Just because you don't get on with someone, doesn't mean they can't get you off."

"Smooth, or something."

"I'm taking a break, relaxing a little, enjoying an overrated TV show or whatever this is - not really minding my business," you say, but your smile is so audible it's fucking offensive. And she's - she's maybe, definitely into that. Like the fucking embarrassment in this is turning her on. Ryujin puts the tip of her finger in the waist of her shorts, experimentally, gently, this small brush and press to her sensitive lower stomach. And it's true. All she hears is her own breathing in the receiver, a bit labored over the slightest, least indecent touch. It's amazing, how much her body can want even when her head can't seem to catch up.

"What do you like?" she asks. “You’re a person, working bits and all, something’s gotta get you all worked up and flustered, no?”

"Will you believe me if I tell you this is my absolute favorite?"

"Do you always dodge the question?"

"It's just like a courtesy," you clarify, "it's not personal."

"Now I sound like a desperate pervert."

"On the contrary," is your warm, buttery reply, and it is fucking aggravating just how well this works on her. "I think there are much better things people can say about you."

God, that - the thought, the possibility of something about her that has nothing to do with how 'thick' or 'thin' her thighs are, or the silhouette of her ass in safety shorts, or how her voice makes guys want to ask if they can take her home and fuck the answers from her, or any of that; it's kind of liberating, just a tiny bit. That it can be a good thing for some reason. God.

Ryujin rubs herself. "Yeah, well."

She wants it all the same and says nothing, shifting a little until her hips tilt slightly upwards, letting her pull at the drawstring of her shorts, loosening the grip. She's already kind of feeling woozy in all the best ways, soft and feminine in how she slides her hand underneath her shorts. Over panties first, with no clear idea if you can tell and honestly, too distracted to wonder about that, if she should care or not, too caught up with her fingertips over the raised seam in her underwear - where the fabric's wet from her.

A shush comes into the line when Ryujin swallows.

The ache between her legs grows louder.

"You still there, Ryujin?"

"Of course," and then, she finds a little more reassured finality: "fuck, yeah, fuck. Please, I..."

"Ryujin," you say with all the calm and control in the world, "talk to me."

(So - truthfully, honestly, factually - you are a total wreck.

You're sitting there in a heap of bedsheets and a cold sweat when Ryujin finally mutters into the silence, "thanks, for that, I, uh- that felt really good, exactly what I needed," and hangs up before you can ask about her day or comment on the weather or suggest calling back tomorrow.

She is just perfect, the way she lets a small "I..." slip when she's close. Perfect, how she groans her little broken, satisfied sigh of a yes, her last, fleeting exhale just a sweet, high, barely there please, her body tensing with every little shudder and moan and pant. How the pace goes fast and then slow - like she's gotta think it out a second, her own fingers bringing her closer and closer until there's nothing but a flurry of movement and ragged breaths - an enthusiastic little mmph noise - followed by Ryujin's wet and slick little laugh that sounds like relief.

Like you did something to help, like she needed you and wanted you.

There's cum sticking all up your torso and along your wrist, the inside of your thigh - everywhere you could manage, frankly - and, shit, it's not fair, you realize:

She can find you, whenever she needs you.

And you -

You're just sitting here. Nowhere near sure she'll even call again.)

There's a sizable difference between being lonely and being alone, Ryujin thinks, running the cloth under the stream of the shower and then pressing it damp against her throat, wiping at the backs of her knees.

Lonely means that something's missing - it's something she feels when she catches a glance at the handsome arm reached around Chaeryeong's waist, the way she dances so close to someone she just met, or whenever she tells her that she's thinking about, maybe, probably, definitely, absolutely going home with him if her friends don't stop her from leaving. God, her smile is always so cute when he's near. When someone's calling her over for drinks - hips sashaying like she doesn't know the whole bar is staring at the creases where her thighs flare into her ass - because he gave her a look from across the room, and she's swaying from drink to drink.

Like, of course, they're fucking; it's a known, unsaid thing.

She knows it, he knows it. Chaeryeong fucking owns it.

Alone however, is just what it says on the tin.

That's something else Ryujin has yet to learn - that everyone loves differently, cares for different things. Yuna is still single after all, and she can never shake the feeling that it's simply to spite her for some perceived slight or another; Yuna can't live without company, no matter how brief or short or meaningless, so perhaps it's better she never catches on or finds anyone worth keeping around.

And Yeji?

Ryujin sighs, rakes the comb through her wet hair.

The showerhead is running hot between Ryujin's fingers, and the water coming off of her skin turns to steam instantly, filling the bathroom with a permanent cloud, stuck in flux - rising towards the ceiling. She passes her fingers under it, watches the flow, a quiet hm escaping the back of her throat - and she considers the way it feels beating against her throat and chest.

Down the concave curve of her stomach. How it burns red right over her thighs. The pressure slips and sinks low, lower - and when she puts a palm out for a little stability, her left leg can't help but buckle just so, lifting itself out and off to the side. So she stands, toes pointing against the shower floor, face first into her arm against the cool tile.

Ryujin sees where the rivulets of water have gathered above her clavicle - feels them trail down over the tightness in her breasts and between. A couple images pass through her mind at once - thoughts of fingers trailing a line back up the center of her body and a gentle tap against her chin, turning her face to some perfect all-consuming kiss - a hand squeezing at her calf, rubbing her muscles gently - Yeji smiling into the crook of her neck, the grasp on her hip, wrist flexing. Her back bowed and fingers, broad and experienced -

"Don't need you," Ryujin quietly says to nobody, which -

You're doing so well, Ryujin hears back in her imagination, you're so beautiful, you can keep this up, I know you can. I bet it feels good, doesn't it? Just let go and I'll...

Ryujin whimpers out. She can feel that line deep inside her going taut, buckling in her core, the reverberations down to her wrists and fingertips and toes. If she didn't have the wall in front of her, she knows she'd be on her knees - kneeling to the hot water pulsing around the knots of nerves right behind her clit. The pressure hitting her like the crack of a whip.

"Fuck me," she says to no one, gasping in that way you only can when no one is listening.

Yeji's smile is what's gotten her this close so many times, the smell of the ends of her hair tickling Ryujin's nose. Hell, she can't stop thinking about the way her nose crinkles or her dimples flare just when she finds Ryujin's name in her mouth.

It's not fair.

She's so close to cumming and letting whatever happens happen. The slick of her release pouring right out into the drain of the shower, washed away with the excess. So when her whole hand shifts and catches in just the right, delicious, frustrating way, Ryujin inhales so deep through the end of the sentence that, as a result, her knees wobble.

She feels like fucking crying.

It's that sweet little lilt in Yeji's voice, saying things like: "It's alright. I promise you can keep this up a little longer." And "Oh, god, baby." And, at worst, the way her voice shakes with a "come here, honey. Let me-"

Ryujin has to catch herself when her footing slips a little from under her. Then, your voice, coming in distant at first, grows louder, clearer. Into something catastrophic, right against her throat, like it knows the very inside-and-out of her, "go on. Fuck, please, cum all over me, baby - show me a face no one else gets to see."

And for the first time,

Ryujin gets herself off. Alone.

She moans and sighs out. Gasps, "there you go-" and whispers an, "ah, jesus." She manages the most silent, the least decipherable, fuck, as it leaves her mouth like a prayer. Her left knee twitches, body curling into itself, and her hand moves - fingers closing and her eyes clenched shut, a wave, cresting - she just-

Collapses.

Wanting: Yeji, sure - and she came - but the only thing she can really wrap her head around is the truth that she's so, utterly fucked.

"Are you sure there's no one you can bring?" Yeji asks in the middle of slapping the ever-loving shit out of a coffee maker that has, for as far as anyone can remember, never worked.

"Uh," is Ryujin's inconvenienced reaction, the tips of her fingers idly sorting through her credit card statements, which a more-sober, less-horny version of herself is a little out of sorts over. "I'm not sure there's anyone I'd want to bring."

"Uh huh," Yeji replies.

She pauses and rests the bottom edge of the coffee maker on the edge of the kitchen counter, stopping herself mid-smack - leaning away to try and give the stupid thing a once-over.

"Who the hell says it's got to be someone you wanna make babies with? Maybe it's just someone you'd think would look good beside you, smiling at the cameras with. Or."

"Or."

Yeji's lips tilt. "Or someone you wouldn't mind screwing in the bathroom."

Ryujin spins the pen in her fingers and gives Yeji a look that says back off and can you chill out already, in the sort of way it takes years to ferment - the silent understandings, the good-natured naggings, the good-fucking-luck-with-that-buddy's. Yeji knows she's getting on Ryujin's nerves. Knows that has never stopped her before.

"In my defense," Yeji clarifies, "I can count at least a hundred people that would crawl over broken glass to sleep with you and, uh-" She knocks the coffee maker off of its stand and holds it gingerly to her chest like some child, motherly. "-I don't wanna take a bullet for your unintentional chastity, Shin Ryujin."

"First of all, don’t pretend you’re doing me a favor here," she replies. "Second-"

"Can't hurt just asking, right? I could set you up, you know, someone you've never even met - no pre-burnt bridges to maneuver."

There’s a world, and Ryujin imagines it for all of a second, where she stands up and grabs hold of Yeji by her cute little ponytail - if nothing else, just to stop the way it bounces every time she steps - and maybe, she also kisses her on the mouth so hard she stumbles. Or perhaps she could pull that ribbon free of its holdings and unravel it down against Yeji's jaw. Pull a whimper, a tiny little ah that says this was inevitable. Maybe they crash onto her bed. Maybe she gets her fingers sticky with how soaked through the cotton of Yeji's shorts have gotten in those short, heated moments - what a world that would be.

"One of what's-his-name's friends? I’m assuming."

Yeji looks annoyed and proud and beautiful; all at once.

"Yes, and what's-his-name's pillow talk is exceedingly whiny about how my best friend is so incredibly standoffish and abrasive and-"

"Okay. I'll go." Anything to stop the image of Yeji with the comforter pulled up to her tits and hair splayed all over the place; red and flushed. Her lips curling with the curve of the sheets and god -

"Just for an hour?" Ryujin asks.

Yeji finally places the coffee maker back onto its stand.

"I mean, nothing much happens an hour into a birthday party," Yeji reassures. "It'll be fun."

"Uh-huh."

"Trust me."

Ryujin wonders just how far Yeji could go - if she knows that she can snap her fingers together, and Ryujin will be there: ready to do anything.

Ryujin is trying to go to sleep, is how she'll explain it if anyone asks. Though she prays to god no one ever will.

She tries books. And she tries scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. And there's this one guy she kinda-sorta-dated's updates: photos of a vacation to Boracay, which seems nice; his chest is a little more defined, more chiseled than when she was seventeen and kind of fumbling her way around a college boy and his stupid fucking preoccupation with who should be paying for drinks at whatever run down establishment was his pick of the night. Ryujin makes a face at the screen, pursing her lips; there's a girl in the photo - she looks too young for how her ass is falling out the one-piece. To the extent that she makes sure to send an unsolicited meme she's tagged herself in - like "here is my past and here are his balls", and gets a block and a report as a thank you.

It makes her feel good. That's what's most important.

And then, with little other distraction and a decent lack of luck, she picks up the phone.

It rings for a while before the operator comes in and says, "You're at number nine."

"What?"

"The queue. This call has you at number nine."

Ryujin slowly leans up from the pillows and squints into her bedroom.

"Huh."

"Would you still like to be connected, miss?

Ryujin thinks it over for a moment. Of course you're popular, a part of her mind comments, because you've got a voice like gravel-slung honey-gold. She's imagining eight other girls just like her, laying in their bed, panties on their ankles and thumbs covered with spit. All desperate for you. All curled up - one right after the other - with no fucking idea.

"Miss," the operator comes back with.

The line goes quiet - a few beats, but not too uncomfortable a silence. Then she gets a soft little exhale out, saying, "can I leave a callback number?"

"If you like." The operator considers the idea. "I can’t promise whether he’ll call you.”

“No, yeah.” Ryujin curls an arm under her chest and plays a finger against the swell of her breast through her night shirt. Gets lost in her own consideration. “Don't think he would anyway."

A new day is defined by new possibilities, or something or another you read once stitched into a frame; Something you muse over the rim of your coffee, nose-deep in the laptop at the kitchen counter top.

Last night ended a bit unexpectedly - this not considering the couple's awkward fight which took up two-thirds of the evening. Or the girlfriend-slash-fiancée of that guy, which somehow led you to wonder just how old was too old. But as you were logging your final client session of the night a ping came through the employee portal and let you know that someone had left their number with the operator in the hopes you'd call.

You swig back the rest of your coffee, roll your shoulders and shrug. Oh, there are at least a million reasons not to call a number that randomly, offhandedly arrives in the middle of the night and gets patched through a phonesex hot line under the cover of darkness.

The same number could be out there, defacing the wall of a truck stop bathroom, or inked into the skin of a squat prison convict who's got a brow like the horizon. Maybe, it belongs to that married business man that took your personal phone number as his private line and spent all the time bragging how he was going to quit his wife and make a run for it with you - just you - even though you'd rather stab him with a fork than be involved with that kind of psychopathy and are honestly just looking for that extra bump in commissions every time his wife calls to ask the exact same thing.

Your clients call. You talk.

You take the cash.

The point is: there's more fucking deviants out there than there are stars in the sky. You would know; you talk to a new handful every goddamn day.

Yet it doesn't really matter. You're gonna do it. Because you're feeling restless. Because - and it sounds insane - there's at least some probability, no matter how remote, that you will pick up that receiver and punch in a number and the line will connect with the girl who's been on your mind almost constantly for the better half of two months. That you might listen to the dial tone turn into her answering with a genuinely indifferent, "this is Ryujin," or whatever her name actually is -

You're living in a pipe dream. You're probably reaching, actually. And all you know about this woman, is, what? What does it really, factually, truly amount to, the amount you feel you've come to know about her.

You know more about how she prefers to methodically, meticulously begin, then draw out, and finally end a blowjob to someone that ain't you than you do about any detail in her life story, frankly. You're reaching, and you know it.

You pick up the phone and dial.

(It goes straight to voicemail, and get this: that’s her real fucking name.)

Yuna has the audacity to ask, as she slides into the booth, "who do you keep texting?"

Ryujin's eyebrow arches.

The younger girl nods towards where Ryujin's thumbs are practically flying over the keyboard.

"No one." Ryujin puts the phone on her lap and crosses her arms over her chest. Then the words seem to echo through the inside of her skull, so she shakes her head a little, in emphasis. "It's nothing, don't worry about it."

She's right though - and maybe that's the problem. Maybe that's why it's hard to answer.

Chaeryeong washes the shot of whisky down with a swallow of lemon-lime. Her eyes slide open to Ryujin as she wipes at her bottom lip. Then she spikes a finger into Ryujin's ribs.

"Spill."

It's a dangerous order, and she doesn't realize it at first. Chaeryeong's bad ideas have an annoying habit of flinging themselves on Ryujin, like a bomb dropped at low altitude - sudden, quick, and more than enough to shake everything up. Chaeryeong will make Ryujin go out dancing - and then she'll lose her clutch purse. Chaeryeong will remember she started the evening with a scarf - so they need to walk out a whole block or two to find it.

More importantly: Chaeryeong is not a great drunk.

So, of course she spills. She relays her findings, carefully and as deliberately as she can muster.

"Does he have a nice voice?" Chaeryeong asks.

"It's kind of deep?”

Chaeryeong snorts. Apologizes immediately.

"Not... deep. Sultry. I guess. Smooth, easy to hear." Ryujin tells the two across the table.

Yuna whistles low. "Romantic as shit."

“Fuck, I don’t know. In, like a sexy sort of way." Ryujin raises both palms in a vague gesture. She clears her throat at the two pairs of eyes staring back at her as though the words coming out of her mouth belonged to a foreign language. "Uh. Sort of raspy, or something, sometimes, like he's... on the phone a lot, and you know," Ryujin flushes, suddenly caught and wondering where all the confidence went, "yeah."

Yuna's leaning forward, chin in her palm. "I'm having a hard time believing texting is a sort of standard operating procedure."

"Well try a little harder," Ryujin snaps, eyes finding Yuna's and making herself fucking clear.

Chaeryeong has this look about her, she's trying to keep it all in, but then there's her eyes, cinched at the corners and dead-fucking-giveaways. She puts an arm against the table and points at Ryujin with an up-reaching thumb. "This is the cutest shit, like ever, and you two are texting like actual lovers instead of two, apparently rando-stranger fuck buddies, or whatever."

Yuna - for whatever reason - feels at liberty to throw gasoline on the fire. "Does that mean you think he's going to get jealous if you bring some dude along to Lia's birthday?"

Ryujin sucks in a breath; the fact that he'd never - well.

"Ryujin's in love," Yuna adds for dramatic effect, for the sake of being the worst fucking person. She can be so fucking petty. It's a side of her no one ever sees, because she's just so sweet all the time. Like right now, she's doing that smile-smirk thing that gets Chaeryeong giggling against her hand and then coughing into it a second later.

"Jesus christ," Ryujin starts gathering her jacket and purse. "He's- not- this is- God, I'm done." She slips her shoulder under the strap. "Thanks for listening to me sound like a teenager."

"Isn't that just normal for you," Yuna quips back, pulling at her straw until there's only air rushing through the bend of it. "Where are you going?"

"I can't stay here," Ryujin says as if it's obvious, as well as her point, the argument she's trying to make. "Besides, Yeji is gonna want me to get my dress and shit all sorted out."

"Don't fall in love with one of the robot voices at the cross-walk on your way home, or anything!" Yuna laughs out, giving a flippant wave goodbye.

Ryujin lets her eyes roll because sometimes, she hates her friends.

It still throws you for a loop whenever Ryujin pings your phone with a text that says something like:

have you jerked yourself off to exhaustion or is there one more in you for someone like me?

Or,

my roommate is getting pounded through the springs of her mattress, wanna see if you can hear it?

Or,

are you free? I really fucking need to cum. bad.

Each text is something you tuck into yourself. Save and mark and spend all your time in those long-form responses imagining how her face looked when her brain typed out the words for you. You wonder if she's sighing through her fingers or hiding her lips behind a pillow while the heat coils in the pits of her hips.

As time goes by, Ryujin slips a little more. From one text about whatever book or series she was rereading last and another about the sadism of politicians and how people are more likely to agree with what they've heard someone else say than the facts of a given subject, to texts with a few scattered thoughts to strings of sexting that has you cumming into the palm of your hand and through your sheets and in the middle of a dream in which there's no clothes and a pretty fucking filthy proposition.

"How have you been lately," you decide, and consider, briefly, the very strong likelihood this call is gonna send her right through the goddamn roof.

When Ryujin eventually finds herself able to get out: "fine," there's a tell-tale pause, then an even longer pause, that implies she'd definitely rather say anything else. Then she kind of stutters a, "pretty good. Not too bad. All that stuff, I suppose."

And not to say any part of this has felt like routine. Both of you breathing into the end of a telephone and letting your eyes clench tight while you cum all over yourself - imagining everything she told you she wanted you to do to her, how it'd all go: "fucking with my arms grappled behind my back," she'd hum, "head pushed into the bedsheets, you're smothering me, ah- I'd let you cum wherever the fuck you like, but please-" or maybe a bit simpler: "so my thighs are straddling your face?" is about the gist.

A second goes by, another, a third.

"Hang on," you end up having to tell her sometimes, "I need a fucking towel-"

"You really are, huh, jerking off with me- I get you that hot, is what you're telling me? Or is just too much imagining how you'd fuck your way right into my guts through my pretty little pussy? Ah, jesus," the cadence of her voice climbs high before ending up back where it belongs, "Jesus, fuck."

"Can you imagine," is how it'd start, "how good it'd feel? My pussy, or- anywhere, everywhere. I think you'd ruin me for anyone else - you- with how, god-"

You can hear Ryujin shift on the sheets, licking at her bottom lip. Silently cumming. Cumming for you.

"Okay."

"Okay what," Ryujin quietly says back.

The gears turning.

You press your hand into the side of your neck. "Fuck me. Now, in a second. Tell me the last fucking thing in the world you want me to be or do and-"

"Wait."

There's this half-breath. This hmm that almost trips off Ryujin's tongue. Her eyes squinting open to a new thought. You think she's about to be sly. About to surprise you with an offhand fuck yes I'd ride that face like a bus seat; that she might come back with, yes I'll put you right in the middle of the best part of me, god you'll love it, and I promise not to make you cum if you're nice enough not to let your hands wander. But.

It's funny how things are -

"I have a confession," she says, matter-of-factly.

That's not entirely unusual. You've had more of those come through your line in a year than a confessional grate might get in a lifetime. So it doesn't sound like something special to you; Ryujin and you are in this candid don't-ask-don't-tell in regards to payments and the exchange of goods and services, but here you are, still using lines and bits. Practiced.

"In the name of the father, and of the son, and-"

"Funny." Ryujin gets the hint to backtrack. "Uhm, I mean. Remember the roommate I was telling you about?"

You hum a, "maybe."

"Uh," and now the hushed voice from her throat sounds distant, suddenly out of the scope of the receiver, "can I be totally, honestly- just really, extremely honest here, are you- or?"

You stop thinking about the ebbs and flows of her voice, how it dips down then arches up a little. Because now her voice has become something that is nervous, bordering on uneasy. So you stop, take stock and hold on. You weren't expecting a voice of worry or tension, or not at least while she wasn't thrown back into her bed and rubbing furiously at the ache between her legs.

"Yeah, of course," you offer her up.

"This is so embarrassing," she's saying, and some part of you feels ready to sink - you haven't the faintest idea for what, but there is something. Your chest clenches.

You can't help the worry and reply: "Okay, um. I mean- yeah. Me too, I can admit I feel a bit- and you can, y'know, be a little-"

"I'm not straight," she says finally, with a little quiver of her voice right at the tail end.

A blink comes, another - there's nothing coming out of you and you have no idea why that should be at all difficult, so the silence grows long. A new sort of awkward; the kind that you find out isn't just the rush of cum cooling in a pair of sweat-damp underwear. No - this is embarrassment, the kind that taints you.

"What?" You exhale a strained laugh, almost too-bright. "Are you- is this some sort of-?"

"Nope, no, this is crazy, sorry." She laughs. "Sorry."

"You certainly had me fooled." You sit up straighter in your bed, resting elbows on your knees. The moon is filtering through the windowsill and bathing the room in blue - casting light all the wrong ways. Making your own heart beat just a little too fast. "Fuck, um. Can I ask a personal question?"

"Sure." Her voice sounds uncharacteristically soft.

"What are you into?" and you as soon as you ask, you're laughing - because you've heard Ryujin wax lyrical for weeks, pontificate about every manner and way she'd take a cock between her hands, lips, fingers. Every. Single. Place, she wants one in - and now you can't believe this is what you went with: "I mean, like girls?"

"It's probably safe to assume I have some, y'know- degree of- yeah."

You chuckle a bit. The stiffness in your shoulders settling out.

"I've been in love, I realize - boy, with my roommate - for a while."

It's said with a sad laugh - as if this were a little shameful. Some deep, dark secret no one could ever be privy to; some stain on her soul that might wash out only after one final scrubbing with dish detergent and the cruelest bristles. A thing that keeps her up at night -

“Not the roommate, by the way, who we listen to get fucking railed like she’s on-demand pornography every weekend. Just to be clear."

"Good, jesus, that'd be fucking something."

Ryujin sounds more cheerful when her voice comes back through the line, "right?"

You wipe the perspiration of your top lip. You laugh nervously at this girl admitting to being in love over the phone - a stranger, truly, in all ways - to some fucked up audio-fetish sex line personality. And now - the fuck's wrong with you?

"Are you mad?" she asks, and some part of you is wrung. A small string of tension twisting so hard inside your gut, you're losing touch.

"No," you let her know. "No, not at all."

And that is honest. This is honest. There's this itching little scratch all over the insides of your skin that seems intent on driving a fucking wedge. Right at the center of your chest, tearing you apart. It feels as you've lost - not an object, not a material. Not an idea, nor a concept - but a feeling, that for once, was distinctly, overwhelmingly yours, without your wanting, or permission, or comprehension.

Ryujin sighs, this elongated relief coming in. She sinks back against the headboard.

She tells you everything. How Yeji smiles, and it's like the whole fucking room has gone up in lights, just from her and her alone. How there is nothing that she'd rather spend all her days around. She talks and you sit there, silent and listening. She talks about her. Her name and everything Yeji does and everything she wants.

The more you listen, you realize it's all real; she's not confused, or mistaken, or out to play a game or convince herself of something she believes is inherently untrue. She's not frustrated, or longing. She doesn't have this stomach-rolling pit of anxiety digging a cavern at her center because she just can't go through the rest of her life, living a life like everyone else. Not ever.

Because, all you really notice is-

She loves Yeji. The quiet kind. And she's sitting there, legs curled under her ass, crying. Not sad, or frightened, or wounded, just this beautiful sort of awed: it's the kind that only someone who is too inexperienced at crying should have. Where you just-

Look away.

"I'm not taking my phone into the bath with me," is the last thing she says to you, tears flooding out in her last couple words, before you can only offer her a meek: "anytime, Ryujin, I'm here."

(Four, five weeks go by in the blink of an eye. A month where you figure it's best to let her text or call or make it clear she wants your voice.

She never does.)

Lia is taking her sweet time to apply concealer over the cut Ryujin earned herself trying to get a stupid thing off a shelf - that's how low and unreasonable her tolerance for anything mildly inconvenient is.

"That fucking hurts," Ryujin tells her, wincing.

Lia ignores her.

She keeps on dabbing at the spot on her temple with the makeup brush until there isn't any trace of bruising, or where the jagged scar of a cut ends and skin begins, not anymore. At this point, she has gotten better, has developed a kind of surgeon's eye: zeroing in and unblinking, until every inch of damage is looking like Ryujin did when she was brought into this world -

(which is not perfect, but what it ought to look like, all things considered.)

Lia holds her hands in place on either side of Ryujin's head. "Stay."

It takes less than five minutes, and during those, Yuna just offers from around the bathroom door, "Ryujin, sweetheart, you’re looking hot tonight."

There's nothing more Ryujin wants to do than set the girl straight - the girl can't not keep a chirp to herself, for once in her fucking life. Because this flimsy slip of a dress around her middle feels too tight, the air choked out of her lungs if she shifts her weight onto the wrong foot. The hem rides way too fucking high up her thighs. So, if anyone didn't want a good long look at her ass tonight, they better come up with a plan B if she has to so much as approach a staircase.

"Have I ever not," she bites.

Yuna snorts.

And luckily for Ryujin, Lia feels the same way:

"Yuna, would it kill you to find something productive to do with your time?"

Yuna opens her mouth like she has something to say (she usually does) before retreating further away, the edge of her hair disappearing around the doorway. Then Ryujin's grinning - eyes taking in how Lia glowers a bit back, silently judging the stupidity in Ryujin's expression and also, admiring how good the girl looks. "Not bad, though, really."

Lia tells her with an underhanded wave of the brush and a wink: "historically, you do always get laid on my birthday, remember?"

Ryujin jerks a little, and the scar above her eye throbs into Lia's thumb. "Thanks?"

The party is miserable, but it's not Lia's fault. It's not really Yeji's fault either. They tried, that's really all she can say for them - her and her permanent-plus-one whose face Ryujin wants to both claw at and kiss until it’s swollen-

What she really can't wrap her mind around, though, is the guy sitting right fucking beside her. The idiot.

"Really, I'm telling you," her date - who is about 3.5 out of five stars at best and not so much handsome or hot as he is 'okay in a pinch' - grins up at her with the smarmiest of smiles, "if you'd just have taken me up on dinner, I would've spent all our time talking about you. We’d figure out how to enjoy ourselves."

"Likely story."

This fuckwad has the absolute goddamn gall to look wounded when his arm starts circling its way around the space where her dress is suffocating her at the waist, and Ryujin starts to shimmy her way out of hot water - again. God, she thinks, god save me-

"I think," she manages with a stilted grin, "I'm going to make myself useful- drinks, no?"

When he leans forward to grab her hand, it's only so she doesn't leave.

"You're not going to ask for my order?" he presses. The only reason Ryujin hasn't knocked out a couple of his front teeth is because Lia would be the one hearing Yeji whine about cleaning up the fucking mess.

"Just scotch. Neat."

Ryujin's a natural when it comes to smiling fake; it's part of her goddamned job. "Of course," she says, like she's not absolutely loathing him.

"Try the oakier, single-barrel variety, alright," he explains, because what's hotter than a man who's an expert in alcohol and being an insufferable tool? Nothing of course. She hopes he knocks back a few too many and his liver explodes - the painless way out. If god would ever fucking allow it.

She barely manages a half-strangled laugh over the blare of the music before he finally releases her wrist.

The absolute fucking prick.

Here's something Ryujin never thought she'd come to appreciate:

Being alone.

It's just her and the breeze through the open doors of the rooftop garden, which is something every bit as refreshing as it is teeth-chatteringly cold. The wind picks up in gusts and billows, until it starts nipping up the fabric around her knees, like it's any one of the drunk, stumbling guests milling about and looking for a noncommittal lay.

Her left foot slips a step outwards, the uncomfortably tall heel bouncing on the edge of her toe and tapping a tune against the brick. Ryujin slouches on the railing that encapsulates the entire terrace, arms pressed over it, hands folded one-over the other - letting the night sky caress her bare shoulders with its wind-brushed kisses. This, is okay. It's better.

Maybe not ideal, but better.

And all it really took was a few fucking moments where she isn't smiling with pursed, stressed lips; where the pressure in her jaw finally settles out enough for the knot in the back of her teeth to fall loose and for her mouth to actually feel, y'know - good.

Not forced, is what. Not fake, or not real, or whatever-

Ryujin almost fishes her phone from her clutch. Almost. Almost texts to tell you that: this fucking night, like all the others in the past month or two or year, has left her feeling particularly done for, and yeah, no, it isn't helping that she'd take whatever would be the alternative if it meant a face like yours came in handy to lean against, or your shoulder or thigh to use. Like some pillow - that's all.

And you are, like. An option. But not, she sighs out, exactly the right one.

An errant chill shudders through her and down her spine.

"Shin Ryujin."

She'd recognize the tilt of that voice anywhere; even if her ears were pounding and her head filled with static and noise, she'd be able to place Yeji at the end of the world. The truth is easy to see, if only Yeji knew where to look: the corners of Ryujin's eyes screw up tight for a second, an immeasurably long time, in order to not do what they wanted. What it would mean.

She does anyway. "I'd hug you," Ryujin throws behind her with an airy sigh, "but I know where you've been."

Yeji's jaw has set at this point; a twist is still in her lip and she lets out this dry, half-laugh, half-not sound - which is the thing that drives Ryujin a little crazy. Yeji turns her attention from the concrete ground, to Ryujin's profile, her body leaning forward, toes tipping in: "sometimes I wonder if my partner in crime can breathe without saying something incendiary."

"Nope." Ryujin offers no further response or follow-up. Instead, the quiet gush of air makes itself the center of attention and a victim of silence.

"Sorry about-"

"Don't be. Don't give it a second thought." Ryujin stretches, leaning a little over the railing. Her fingers arch before her. Her words sounding the slightest bit cold, "can't win 'em all, right?"

Yeji's eyebrows pull together. "That's not how this was supposed-"

"God, Yeji." Ryujin smiles. Yeji hates that she never knows what that means. "I'm trying, really, I am, but you know - I really, I have tried my best, so can we just lay it to rest?"

Yeji leans over the railing - the fucking moon reflecting in these lustrous pools where her eyes go darker than night - and doesn't say anything for the longest moment. Ryujin chews her tongue, and tries to look as interested in the void of stars and night clouds as possible.

"Fuck's going on with you, lately?"

Ryujin just laughs back.

"Really," and the last word dips in a groan. It's almost childishly tragic how petulantly she insists, "talk to me."

But Ryujin has nothing else to say - no witty, scathing remarks. No deadpan observations or funny asides, not even a morose comment to throw back. There are times and moments and fucking periods of her day where she'd happily chew glass if it meant that Yeji would sit there a second longer, be beside her for a while and smile, just smile at only her, once - for once.

Her only response is the worst kind of lie, this soft: "really nothing."

The moment where it slips and hangs between them, when it lingers the longest -

She could reach out, a hand on her thigh, the small of her back, if she could only reach. And Yeji, she'd listen to her, for once. She'd really, genuinely hear what Ryujin says; like she can see it, plain as day, everything there's in Ryujin's eyes, the thoughts inside her head, written on her goddamn face and across the open night air in neon:

I love you. I'm in love with you, you're too close to me.

The seconds pass. They tick, they stretch and grow thin. Yeji looks at Ryujin expectantly, and Ryujin knows. It is something like being put on the spot and called in. Something like a long, pained whimper caught somewhere in her throat.

She is very much still, unmoving, and feeling nothing at all.

Maybe she can blame the alcohol, the dark, the series of events that saw her hiding away behind a bunch of decorative trees and fighting for breath where the wind blows a little cooler. She can pretend like the stars aren't absent above her, and it doesn't hurt a goddamn bit.

“Yeji, I-” She licks at her lip, ready, willing-

Ryujin grabs at her waist with a hand. Her knuckles white around the black of the railing. And with no further fanfare, she spits it out like venom, with no small measure of shame or guilt or worry for how Yeji will take it - or worse: how she herself would react in the wake of admitting it aloud -

“I love you,” Ryujin says, and it pops out of her mouth as neatly as it had the first thousand times practicing alone in her car.

A blink, and another. The look on Yeji's face is hard and blank, as if she'd understood every syllable, but didn't hear it at all - maybe. Her gaze drops, it trails a path along the long line of Ryujin's pale neck. Of the two ways it could ever go in her head, stuck on loop for as long as she can remember, Ryujin had never considered that Yeji might turn this still and vacant. A sudden feeling, a pull or a grip, starts in the lowest part of Ryujin's guts.

"And not-," she hears her own voice falter, "like-"

Then - it's on the back of Ryujin's head and in her hair, a hand curled at the base of her skull and pulling her head a little downward and her, until their foreheads meet. And before she has a chance to walk it back - to stuff it down where it came from and seal the bottle tight - before she can clench her eyes, shake her head, and spit out anything else like the fact that there was not much that had to change, between them -

Yeji just says plainly: "Yeah, hun. Love you too."

And it's shockingly, the most painful thing - that she just squeezes her hand and pats her back like it's all they could ever be. Without even the wherewithal to reject her properly; to tell her something like "don't ever say that again, god," or "oh shit- Ryujin. Sorry. So, no," or at least to spit back with a scathing laugh: "welcome to the fucking party," like what she always does.

"Yeah." Yeji clears her throat quietly and starts retreating back from the brink - with no apparent aim but to pull away as she draws herself away from the warmth of Ryujin's space, "uh, don't forget to say hello to some of the staffers before they go home, okay?"

Ryujin is left with nothing but the air that follows Yeji's outline; left with her heart sinking into the depths of the night; left trying to make sense of the bitter sting ripping her chest in two.

Left with her own hopelessness - the pining - when Yeji walks away.

To be lonely, to be alone; neither are the same.

And she hates knowing she is so incredibly both.

The worst part is she knows how it looks.

Her pace just on the verge of unsteady, the way her feet come up from the ground: Left foot, the right. The other. Back and back and forth again, faster and then slower and- fuck.

A damsel, severely distressed.

She sits down on the curb. She wants to cry, but even just the way she looks, carrying her heels and struggling with this fucking dress she wishes she'd never bothered with at all - oh, the tabloids would be sure every detail gets pinned under all the wrong lights. A breakdown would only serve to confirm all the right things; it would paint a story for anyone who cares enough to glean from her crestfallen posture and red cheeks that she is yes, a little broken, and that everyone wants to be loved and she's no different - and -

She sucks a breath. This time, when her tears fall, it's a quick, perfunctory action, no show in it.

Her palms rub her face - and she wipes, and wipes, and wipes - smearing at the foundation under her eyes before she takes a long drag of night air. Deep from her core, filling up her lungs until she can't hold anymore. Until it hurts and stings the backs of her ribs - it's enough for a single, fleeting moment. The street is mostly empty; an occasional car will speed by every now and then and it's those few and far between intervals that hurt most, that nearly shatter her: if she can barely do this, alone, how can she possibly be enough for anyone?

Ryujin’s smiling only to hold back her tears, and it fucking stings. She flicks hurriedly past the lock screen of her phone and swipes through the message stream with blurry eyes - there’s a whole host of people that want to know where the fuck she went, if she's safe, why she up and vanished the moment Yeji couldn't keep an eye on her. And well. The girl sighs.

Finds your name in her contacts and puts her thumb right beside it.

It rings exactly three times, and she hates the number. She hates how many things can be associated with that number in those seconds alone.

Four, the pause where you must have had the opportunity, but didn't decide to pick up - just leave it be. Then five - Ryujin is definitely no longer looking forward to any of this.

Six: it stops.

There's this crackle, and through the night -

"Just what brings you here, stranger?"

For an indistinct amount of time, Ryujin drifts in the whirlpool current of that question; it sinks her deeper, into the currents of your voice and the tone and what it's suggesting and demanding from her. All the things your voice is giving her permission to ask of and with and-

Until finally she answers back: "do you ever just, like, wish," a shallow pause for the hitch in her breath, "something, someone was a little more for you- or to- with you-"

The swell of a smile through the receiver; and you can't help your laugh, soft.

"Sometimes," is what you say, "that's just human, don't you think?"

She doesn't understand how something like love or life or desire should be a universal trait.

"Uh, maybe," she shrugs out, and thinks.

"It's pretty normal," you tell her.

Quiet, as if you were right in front of her.

"Look," you start, and you can hear how she sniffs her nose and swipes the pad of her hand right along the side of it, to catch anything stupid and stupid sounding leaking down to her upper lip. "You don't have to. Let's just hang out. Tell me anything."

And for once, she does.

She talks.

(The whole story.

From the first time Ryujin realizes the world is never going to be fair - that she shouldn't have to look at herself like she's unlovable because she's seen her friends be held as though they are - or at Yeji like she's completely unattainable or somehow, unlovable, and that someone as amazing as Yeji should have been loved from the moment she was born.

The rest comes through as fragments: the truth of her career. Yeji.

The balcony, the breeze, the bitter-fucking-disappointment.

And what came of that -

When Ryujin isn't a million and one words per minute, it feels, almost, it feels - she'd swear there was less noise in her own head: this thrumming in her brain has settled out; the walls around her and the echo coming off of them - the booming and pulsing - it's, gone.

Because even though there was an indistinct shape for where she had landed, in the aftermath, and nothing much had changed - all that did. You listen, and that alone makes it so you're both exactly where you’re supposed to be, even if this, tonight - you are unsure, if it will actually fix anything - if anything needs fixing at all.)

#ryujin smut #itzy smut #itzy ryujin smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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