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#I want to do commissions like this hint hint
buckys-metal-arm · 2 days
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A Work of Art
Bucky x Artist!GN!Reader
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Description: when Bucky is feeling Self-conscious about his scars, you decide to do something that shows him how you see his body
Warnings: fluff with a little hint of angst, self conscious!Bucky, established relationship, Soft!Bucky, not beta'd, rushed writing
A/N: this is a quick one, the idea came to me while waiting for a doctor's appointment and needed to write it down. I love the idea, I'm not sure how I feel about the writing of it, but I hope you enjoy!
((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!)) 
It starts late at night, when you're getting ready to lay down with your boyfriend
Bucky settled down beside you, and you went to wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek 
You went to slip your hand under his shirt to rub his stomach, something you know he loves, but Bucky flinches away from you. 
“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” You asked gently, “are you alright?”
He shrugged, rolling over so that he was facing you
“Jus’ having a rough time with…everything,” he murmured, “with the scars.”
You nodded, not wanting to push him 
Bucky got like this sometimes. When he was deep in his own head and his depression got the best of him, he'd suddenly become hyper-aware of the scars on his skin, of the permanent reminders of the abuse that he had endured. 
When he got like this he would shy away from everyone's touch, even yours, convinced that no one could truly accept and love him as he was
“Bucky…” you whispered, cupping his face, “Sweetheart…” 
“You don't have to act like you like them,” he cut you off, “they're disgusting. I know that. You don't have to lie to me, Doll. I know.” 
“It's not lying, Buck,” you brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, stroking the scar that ran there, “I mean it. Your scars show how brave you are. They're a part of you. And I love you. Every part of you.”
He'd hummed, eventually letting you hold him and rub his back, but you could tell he still didn't believe it. 
It broke your heart, not knowing how to make him see that you thought he was perfect. 
The idea came to you while you were working on commissions one day, a few months out from yours and Bucky’s anniversary 
You were working on your commissions and listening to a crafting podcast, when the idea hit you for his anniversary present.
 If he wasn't going to believe you when you told him he was beautiful, then maybe you could show him
 You didn't need a reference photo, you knew his body so well you could do it from memory
It was difficult to find time to work on it between commissions and having to quickly hide it away when Bucky came home, but you manage to get it done a few days before the big day
In no small part because Bucky was out on a week long mission and wasn't home so you had time to work on it 
Cut to the big night, it's after Bucky cooked you a very nice dinner
You were seated on the couch, admiring the way his dog tags looked around your neck (his present to you), waiting for him to finish the dishes
He'd shooed you off when you tried to help him because “it's your night Doll, you're not lifting a finger” 
You'd tried to argue that it was both of your anniversary, but he'd insisted
 When he finally sat down you pushed the wrapped present into his hands, smiling widely
 “Go on, open it!” You exclaimed. 
He chuckled at your excitement, his eyes widening when he saw your gift It was one of your embroidery projects, mounted on wood and framed by the hoop.
 On it is his body from the waist up, front and back, carefully recreated
 Each of his scars satin stitched on with gold thread and expert precision.
 It reminded him of the art exhibition you and him had attended when you'd first started dating, showing pottery that had been repaired with flakes of gold. his metal arm was lovingly recreated with perfect accuracy down to each of the golden veins that run through it
 Underneath it, carefully cross-stitched in Navy blue are the words “EVERY INCH OF YOU IS A WORK OF ART”
 Bucky stared at the piece with wide eyes, his jaw slack. 
His silence was making you nervous. 
Did you overstep a boundary? Did he think that you were putting his insecurities on blast? 
You placed a hand on his leg when you saw his eyes filling with tears, stroking your thumb along it
“Oh, Bucky,” you cooed, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to see yourself how I see you–”
 He enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug, pulling you to his chest. 
You were shocked, to say the least, but wrapped your arms around him, hugging back and running a hand through his hair
He held you tight for a moment more before pulling back
 “I-I’m not… you didn't make me feel bad,” you reached up to thumb the tears that had fallen down his cheek, “these are good tears. I… I love it, Doll. It's beautiful.”
 “I'm glad you think it's beautiful.  I wanted you to get a glimpse into how I see you,” you pressed your lips against his, “you’re beautiful, Bucky.”
He pulled you into a deep kiss, gentle and full of love
One gesture like this wasn't enough to destroy the demons in his mind, he knew that.
 But now, running his fingers along the  stitches, your loving, careful, incredible recreation of his body? 
Maybe he can start to see himself the way you do. 
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yolebrat · 6 months
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An old lady an her cat !!! She adopted him and he lives in her basement ! It must be canon!
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ah shit here we go again
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szivoszal · 1 year
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i bought a new coat
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maikaartwork · 9 months
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Artists, let’s talk about Instagram commission scammers
There’s been a huge rise in commission scammers recently, mostly on Instagram. A lot of new artists don’t know what to look out for, so I figured this might help people.
How they begin
Usually the scammer will write to you asking about a commission. Something deceptively cute - mostly I encounter asks about pet portraits, with one or two photos sent. They’ll probably try to sell you a sweet little story, like “It’s for my son’s birthday”. They will insist that they love your artwork and style, even though they don’t follow you or never liked a single piece of your art.
What to look out for:
Their profiles will either be private, empty, or filled with very generic stuff, dating at most a few years back.
Their language will be very simple, rushed or downright bad. They might use weird emojis that nobody ever uses. They will probably send impatient “??” when you don’t answer immediately. They’re in a crunch - lots of people to scam, you know. 
They’ll give you absolutely no guidelines. No hints on style, contents aside from (usually) the pet and often a name written on the artwork, no theme. Anything you draw will be perfect. Full artistic freedom. In reality they don’t really care for this part.
They’ll offer you a ridiculous amount of money. Usually 100 or 300 USD (EDIT: I know it might not be a lot for some work. What I mean here - way higher than your asking price, 100 and 300 are standard rates they give). They’ll often put in a phrase like “I am willing to compensate you financially” and “I want the best you can draw”, peppered with vague praise. It will most likely sound way too good to be true. That’s because it is.
Where the scam actually happens
If you agree, they will ask you for a payment method. They’ll try to get to this part as soon as possible. 
Usually, they’ll insist on PayPal. And not just any PayPal. They’ll always insist on sending you a transfer immediately. None of that PayPal Invoice stuff (although some do have methods for that, too). They’ll really, REALLY want to get your PayPal email address and name for the transfer - that’s what they’re after. If you insist on any other method, they’ll just circle back to the transfer “for easiest method”. If you do provide them with the info, most likely you’ll soon get a scam email. It most likely be a message with a link that will ultimately lead to bleeding you dry. Never, and I mean NEVER click on any emails or links you get from them. It’s like with any other scam emails you can ever get.
A few things can happen here:
They overpay you and ask for the difference to be wired back. Usually it will go to a different account and you’ll never see that money again. 
They’ll overpay you “for shipping costs” and ask you to forward the difference to their shipping company. Just like before, you’ll never see that money again.
The actual owner of the account (yes, they most likely use stolen accounts to wire from) will realize there’s been something sketchy going on and request a refund via official channels. Your account will be charged with fees and/or you get in trouble for fraudulent transactions. 
You will transfer the money from your PayPal credit to your bank account and they will make a shitstorm when they want their money back, making your life a living hell. They will call you a scammer, a thief, make wild claims, wearing you down and forcing you into wiring money “back” - aka to their final destination account. 
Never, EVER wire money to anyone. This is not how it’s supposed to go. Use PayPal Invoice for secure exchanges where the client needs to provide you with their email, not the other way around.
You can find more info on that method HERE.
What to do when you encounter a scammer:
Ask the right questions: inquire about the style, which artwork of yours they like, as much details as you can. They won’t supply you with any good answers.
Don’t let the rush of the exchange, their praise and the promise of insanely good money to get to you. That’s how they operate, that’s how they make you lose vigilance. 
Don’t engage them. As soon as you realize it might be a scam, block them. The sense of urgency they create with their rushed exchange, and pressure they put on you will sooner or later get to you and you might do something that you’ll regret later.
Never wire money to anyone. Never give out your personal data. Never provide your email, name, address or credit card info. 
Don’t be deceived by receiving a payment, if you somehow agree to go along with it. Just because it’s there now doesn’t mean it can’t be withdrawn. 
Here is a very standard example of such an exchange. I realized it’s a scam pretty fast and went along with it, because I wanted good screenshots for you guys, so I tried going very “by the book” with it. 
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Please share this post, make it reach as many artists as possible. Let young or inexperienced artists know that this is going on. So many people have no idea that this is a thing. Let’s help each other out. If you think I missed any relevant info, do add it as an rb!
Also, if you know other scam methods that you think should be shared, consider rb-ing this post with them below. Having a master post of scam protection would AWESOME to have in the art community.
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safetypinxtales · 4 months
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Lonely with you | Azriel
summary: it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely.
words: 1.5k
warnings: fluff, feelings of loneliness, thirsting over our boy az and his thighs, kind of just a drawn out drabble, some angst, generally just softness, Azriel with a book needs a warning in and of itself, very slight jealousy, neutrally described reader/no reader description, no use of y/n, PINING
notes: haven't written in years, and never befor for Azriel, or anyone from acotar, so bare with me. Not sure what I think of this, nor what the future might hold, but I had some time off uni and this idea that I just couldn't seem to get out of my head. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
part 2
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You knew what picture was waiting for you in the living room of the House before you even rounded that corner. The distinct sound of pages turning, the hint of whiskey in the air, and him. 
That scent that was just so distinctly Azriel it almost made you forget that echoing emptiness in your chest. 
The sight that greeted you as you entered the room belonged in a museum, or at the very least at the front of some Day Court scribe’s lecture hall, being studied by the brightest minds in Prythian. You wanted to commission Feyre to paint it from your memories so it could be immortalized, even if just for your eyes. Because by the Gods, it was mesmerizing. 
Azriel sat – no, sprawled across one of the couches, those thick, muscled, sweatpant-clad thighs so deliciously, invitingly, teasingly spread apart. The book in his hand was not one you recognized, but then his taste in literature was slightly more… sophisticated than yours. But that just made it all so much more enticing didn’t it? The thought of this gorgeously dark, winged male consuming deep, meaningful art? It would make any sane person fall to their knees. 
The hazel of his eyes didn’t show any sign of surprise as his gaze met yours. He knew you were coming, most likely courtesy of the shadows leisurely curling around his shoulders. Cauldron, was he a sight…
… And your friend. Unfortunately.
“Are you just going to stand there all night or will you eventually move?” Right, right. How long had your feet been rooted to the floor? Judging by the humorous tone of his voice and that boyish sparkle in his eyes, probably a tad too long. 
Forcing your body to take a step, and another, you tried to think of something – anything to say. 
“Sorry, I–... I just didn’t expect you to be here is all,” liar, “I guess you caught me by surprise”. It wasn’t the best excuse in the world, but with the situation at hand it could have been a lot worse. Like, a lot. Besides, it’s not like you could have told him the truth.
Sorry Azriel, it’s just that I have been desperately yearning for you for the last couple of years and seeing you like this, looking all boyfriend-y, has me nearly swallowing my own tongue because of how perfect you look. I am just humiliatingly obsessed with every single little thing you do, as well as horrifyingly lonely to a default. In a non creepy way, of course. 
… You would rather free-dive off the dining room balcony before ever admitting that to him. 
His brows furrowed as he observed you, like he could see the lie written across your face, before humming lightly, almost as to himself. He reached a hand out to the glass resting on the coffee table and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid inside. Your eyes were trained on his mouth as he lowered the glass. Trained on the candlelight reflected in the alcohol wetting his lips. Those shiny, pouty, full–
His tongue slipped out and delicately swiped across his lower lip, licking off the remnants of the whiskey from the glass in his hand, and it took everything in you to not whimper at the sight. 
Cauldron boil you.
Needing something to ground yourself, you made your way over to pour yourself a glass of whatever Azriel was drinking and collapsed beside him on the couch, trying to roll that stubborn stiffness out of your shoulders.
”Can’t sleep either?” He asked you on a slight chuckle. 
“No, not with them going at it like bunnies,” you sighed, “how is it even possible for Cassian to… you know? I mean, not only is it day after day, but all night, non-stop? You need– I mean not you specifically, I don’t know anything about your sexual habits, just– just males in general,” oh Gods, “you– you need to rest, at some point – right?”
Azriel took in your flustered state, and pursed his lips as if to keep from laughing. His amusement did not help your case at all, only making the heat crawl further up your neck, your ears positively aflame. 
“I guess the mating bond has its perks,” he surmised, and you couldn’t escape the huff that exited your nose. 
That damned mating bond. The very one the Mother seemed to be handing out left to right lately, to everyone except you. And Azriel. But unlike you, he was a damn catch and could have anyone he’d like. 
“Am I an absolute wench for being jealous of Nesta? And Elain? And Feyre?” You whined as you threw your head back on the couch.
“Not at all,” Azriel’s raspy voice comforted you, easing the tightness in your stomach. You still felt like one though; Nesta was your best friend and you were happy for her, but still–
“It’s just so unfair! They were born like, yesterday! I have been suffering through a mostly miserable existence for over five centuries now and I have never even come close to a connection like they have,” you rolled your neck, “I am over the moon for them, don’t get me wrong, and I hate to make their happiness about me–“
“But being alone around people who… aren’t, can be very lonely,” Azriel finished and your heart clenched as you looked at him. Beautiful, kind, caring Azriel. One of your best friends, and the male you were hopelessly, devastatingly in love with. 
Knowing he, too, was hurting was painful in itself, but also slightly comforting. Knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness. 
“You’re in pain,” he mumbled, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t really a question was it? “Your shoulders,” he noted, “they’re tense.”
“Oh, it’s fine, really. Nothing to worry about, just a small kink,” you tried to brush it off, but he looked at you with such intensity it made your whole body tingle.
“No it’s not,” it was like he could see right through you, “No, you have been worrying your neck ever since you sat down.” He pondered a moment before he sat up a little straighter beckoning for you to move closer. “Come on, let me help you with that.”
Your mouth fell open. 
Was he insinuating he wanted to rub your back? Your half naked, barely-nightgown-clad back. With his hands. Those magical, beautiful hands. Oh Gods.
Your attempt of a protest died in your throat at the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was not to argue with.
He marked the page he was on and placed his book down on the table in front of you, his eyes not straying from you once. Like he was afraid you would bolt if he looked away, even just for a second. 
In his defense, you very well might have.
A shaky breath released from your lungs as you put your glass down and readjusted your position on the couch until you were situated between his legs. With your back facing him, you carefully pulled your hair over one shoulder to give him better access, trying to block out the thoughts of how incredibly warm those bite-able thighs of his were.
The warm calluses of his hands on your skin set you ablaze, and as he carefully started to massage out the knots in your upper back you swore you could have melted, then and there. 
You couldn’t help leaning in to his skillful touch. You also couldn’t help the breathy groan that escaped you as he started to work on a particularly tense area. 
Or how your heart rate picked up as you heard what you swore was Azriel’s breath hitching in response. 
You basked in the intimacy of the moment, fully enjoying all of his undivided attention. 
The gesture, the moment, it all felt so domestic and comforting that the constant emptiness in your chest started to close over. Even if just for now. Even if it was all borrowed; a lovely, elusive fantasy – you let yourself feel whole. 
You barely registered his hands slowing to a stop, or the new found looseness in your shoulders. Barely registered as his hands slid down your arms and slowly tugged you back towards his chest. 
Not until you were engulfed in his warmth, his arms wrapped around you did you realize how well you fit together.
Like two pieces of a puzzle.
“Be lonely with me tonight,” his breath tickled your ear, “please.”
You knew it probably wasn’t wise. That tomorrow, when all of this would be gone, the hurt would resurface. The loneliness even heavier than before. But you couldn’t get yourself to care. To tell him no. Tell yourself no.
Instead you burrowed deeper in his embrace, closed your eyes, and even if just for tonight, you let his warmth fill the void in your chest. 
Until that void had been replaced by a vibrating, golden, glow.
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Dream Double Team
Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Fem!Reader x Denji
Tags: nsfw, smut, virginity loss (for Denji), threesome, guidance, nipple stimulation, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, dirty talk
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Commission for @soraritsuka.
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Movie nights with Aki were rare, movie nights with Aki and Denji even more rare. As your boyfriend Aki wanted to include you in more activities with his friends, which was sweet of him but neither of you missed the lustful way in which Denji looked over at you all the time. The pillow in his lap did little to nothing at all to hide his excitement growing whenever you stretched and let out a moan.
"You're not subtle." You looked over with a knowing grin. Aki leaned over your shoulder, one arm over the couch, the other holding yours. Denji blushed and quickly glanced away, trying to focus on the movie. Aki leaned in and whispered something in your ear, "Really? Now?"
"He's been complaining about it for weeks." Your boyfriend dropped hints about it too, about wanting to help his friend out.
You nodded and placed a quick kiss on his lips before leaning over to do the same to Denji whose eyes were as wide as saucers and cheeks deep pink. Ah, his hands feel away from the pillow rather quickly, allowing you to take it from him and cup the bulge in his pants.
"Wait- Aki is- ah!" You placed your whole hand on his cock, pushing and massaging over the wet spot. "What-"
"This was his idea. You've been complaining about it right? Being a virgin?" You whispered against his parted lips as your other hand started to unzip his pants to get to his naked dick, "How many night did you jack off while listening to us fuck, you little pervert."
"It's your damn fault for being so loud!" He barked out in defense as he sat up a little so you could take his pants and boxers off. "Fuck. Am I dreaming? Is this a dream? Oh my fuck-" Denji was a mess even before your hand wrapped around his leaky cock. Every stroke produced more cum from the tip, dripping and covering your hand in it. "Suck please, please I wanna know what it's like, please."
Apparently he wasn't above begging. Good. "Good boy, Denji, asking for it will get you a long way with women. We love it when you tell us how much you want us." You kissed your way down his neck while slowly lifting his shirt up, "But we also like asking for the same."
You didn't have to ask Aki, he willingly gave you so much. Denji's eyes went wide when Aki's hands lifted your shit over your chest to reveal them bare. No wonder you were wearing Aki's shirt, you wanted to hide the fact that you only had panties on. Denji's mouth practically watered at the sight of your swollen nipples.
Aki rolled your sensitive buds between his fingers, relishing in your soft gasps and your hips bucking backwards when he began to tug on them a bit more. "Lean back against me baby, let him see you." He bit your ear, voice soft yet commanding.
The whine from Denji's lips when you let go of his cock was a delight to you, hopefully you'll hear more as the night goes on.
“Denji, take her panties off. Take a good look at her cunt.” He kept his hands focused on your breasts while Denji obeyed without a word, tugging your panties off and not even once taking his eyes off your pussy. "Look at how wet she is." One of Aki's hands traveled down your body, first spreading your pussy and then thrusting in with his middle and ring finger, "Look at how easily her cunt swallows my fingers."
"Oh fuck. Pussy. Real pussy. She…" Shamesly Denji started stroking himself while watching Aki finger you. You whined wanting to be the one stroking, sucking, doing something for them. "Are you gonna make her come Aki?"
"No, you will. I just got her ready for you. Isn't that right sweetheart? Are you ready for Denji's cock?" He asked as he pinched your nipple.
"Ah! Yes! Please! My cunt is ready for you." Your words almost made Denji come right there. You moaned and tossed your head back when Aki pulled his fingers out and swiped them through your folds, teasingly circling your clit before spreading your cunt open once again. "Aki. Denji. Please, don't tease. You wanna fuck me don't you? Come here already."
Denji scooted between your legs and swiped the tip of his cock against your entrance. "Can I do it in one go?" Both you and Aki nodded in agreement, him going back to teasing your clit and nipple and Denji sweating bullets as he lined up, "O-Okay, here I go." He really did do it in one go, wasting no time sinking his entire length into you, "Holy shit! H- So wet! God!"
"That's what real cunt is like Denji. Nice isn't it?" Aki whispered as he kissed your shoulder, his eyes glued on Denji's flushed face and sharp teeth.
"Y-Yeah. Real nice pussy. Taking me really well, it's really tight too."
You smiled when you made yourself flutter around him and he lunged forward, burring his head between your breasts, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve too." Pulling Denji close you rolled your hips against him, showing him what pace you liked best. Although uneven he did his best to match it, his hands on your hips, mouth searching for your free nipple to latch onto.
The sound of Denji's balls hitting naked flesh filled the living room, the movie long forgotten and maybe even over, your moans mixing with Denji's whines and Aki's encouragement. You felt yourself getting closer as Aki's skilled fingers rolled over your clit in time with Denji's desperate thrusts.
"Good girl, you're doing well for him. Being a good little cockdoll." You turned your head to kiss Aki, sloppy, greedy, absolutely unrecognizable to Denji from how you usually were. The sight and sounds were enough to send him over the edge, filling you up with cum, all the way to the brim.
"Fuck! Tighter! She's getting even tighter around me! Please, come for me? Around my cock, let me feel you. Be my slut too." He pleaded against your tits, hips smacking hard against yours.
"What you say? Wanna be our little whore? Huh sweetheart?" Aki's fingers rubbed tight circles around your sensitive clit, bringing you closer and closer to your climax. You answered with an orgasm, body going limp against Aki's and pussy clenching tight onto Denji's cock. "So good baby, you did so good." You could only hum in return, trying to catch your breath.
Denji looked up at you, a question on his lips, "What is it Denji? You want more?"
"Eh, no, uhm… can I… kiss you too?" Horny and adorable, those were the two words you'd use to describe Denji right now. And pretty much always.
"Of course you can." You pulled him into a kiss for which his heart melted for. "Aki, do you want to…"
Your boyfriend shook his head and only snuggled you closer, "Tomorrow. I wanted you and Denji to have a nice time tonight." Fuck. How did you land someone so thoughtful? You had to put a wedding ring on that man and soon.
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sunderwight · 2 months
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It's so good when Shen Qingqiu takes care of Luo Binghe. In canon and also in fics. I especially am in love with when he does his hair or helps him dress, it's just so pleasantly domestic. Also endearing whenever SQQ gets a bit fanboy-ish about it, because that's Luo Binghe and SQQ can dress him up in every cool or sexy outfit he has a face thick enough to pay someone to actually make!
I wonder if he ever shares this wisdom with Shang Qinghua. Like at some bitching session or other SQH is sighing a bit about how MBJ always wears like the same three outfits, and don't get him wrong they're all great outfits, but he noticed Luo Binghe flaunting yet another fresh look the other day and part of him really wants to see Mobei Jun in something different...
And then Shen Qingqiu is just like, you're the Lord of An Ding Peak, you handle the basic wardrobe necessities for an entire sect? Go pay someone to make cool/sexy outfits and literally put them on Mobei Jun yourself! You're married to the guy, aren't you?
Shang Qinghua is like "wait you can do that? I can do that? that's a thing that's allowed?" and Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes and calls him a dumbass and points out that Airplane himself wrote about the intimacy of Luo Binghe's harem members dressing him and it being an even bigger deal for demons than humans, and Shang Qinghua cannot for the life of him remember this but it does sound sort of familiar. So off he goes to nervously sketch out some ideas for outfits, and then get told off by the seamstress he tries to commission for not having realistic ideas about how fabric works. But he does have Mobei Jun's measurements and after some discussion he gets a bunch of stuff that looks even better than his initial ideas, eventually, and then he just has to... give them to his king...
Shang Qinghua awkwardly presenting the topic to Mobei Jun like he's expecting to get a hard "no", but he blinks and his king is naked and standing expectantly in front of his fancy full-length mirror. Shang Qinghua has only ever helped Mobei Jun get dressed when he was injured in the past, and then usually only just putting his arms through some sleeves on an outer robe. They've undressed each other for sex, but putting the clothes on really is a different kind of intimacy. Especially an outfit that Shang Qinghua had specially made to suit Mobei Jun, to highlight the features he likes best about him. Striking blue and icy-white, with hints of An Ding's colors as accents, showing off his build to full effect, etc etc. Shang Qinghua layers each piece on and then does Mobei Jun's hair too, muttering quiet approval for how the look comes together while Mobei Jun preens under all the attention.
Of course, afterwards Mobei wants Shang Qinghua to dress him every day, which isn't always logistically feasible, and MBJ also intends to return the gesture.
Luo Binghe dresses Shen Qingqiu too of course, but Luo Binghe is aware both that other guys want his husband and also that Shen Qingqiu will refuse to go out in public if Binghe dresses him in anything revealing, even if he still lets him put it on, plus Luo Binghe was raised with human sensibilities about modesty. So all in all any "sexy" outfits are reserved for private time at home, and what he puts Shen Qingqiu in for daily wear is all stuff that is perfectly befitting a Qing Jing Peak Lord and scholar.
Mobei Jun doesn't have human modesty sensibilities and also doesn't see any reason why Qinghua shouldn't show off his own best assets while he's going about his day, so, Shang Qinghua is about to rue the hell out of a lot fashion-related world-building decisions he made a lifetime ago...
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Note
Question!!! But how do I integrate subtlety into my writing? Like I have a hard time picking up on it and I annoyingly have a tendency to tell not show, so I wanted to know if you have any advice!
Writing with More Subtlety
-- Getting the hang of "showing vs telling" is a great place to start if you want to integrate subtlety into your writing. Saying, "Moonlight glinted off the lake," is more subtle than, "The moon was shining."
Guide: Showing vs Telling
-- Learning to evoke emotion and ambiance with sensory description is another way to write with more subtlety. After all, saying, "The house was scary looking," is not as subtle as, "Thick fog curled around the decaying timbers of the once grand Victorian home."
Horror by Darkness Horror by Daylight
-- Knowing what internal and external cues can be used to illustrate your characters' feelings is also helpful, because, "Sarah was sad," is not as subtle as, "Tears pooled in the corners of Sarah's eyes, and she bit her upper lip to keep it from quivering."
Showing a Character's Feelings The Subtle Signs of Romantic Interest and Love
-- Learning to weave details into your story is also helpful, as it's more subtle to work details in naturally than to do a big info dump.
Weaving Details into the Story
-- Finally, learn to drop hints rather than declare something outright.
Dropping Hints without Giving Everything Away
I hope that helps!
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iznsfw · 2 months
Text
Lucid Dream
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 7 - Kim Minju
IZ*ONE's Kim Minju x Male Reader Smut
8,525 words
Categories | married man!You, wife!Wonyoung, daddy kink, degradation, rough sex, OC is not a good person
Content warning | cheating, humiliation, Wonyoung slander (it hurt to write but I read "Gone Girl" by Gillian Flynn recently so I guess that went into the whole wife-hating thing)
Skipping again a bit (still will do Chaeyeon and Chaewon and everyone because IZ*ONE best girls). Expect a commission and an IZ Days of Xmas fics this month again <3 I love you all, you make me happy. And as always, sorry for the inconsistency!
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Wonyoung is beautiful.
You stare at her as she undresses in front of the full-length mirror. She’s the kind of woman whose vanity seldom rolls eyes because her adoration for herself—smoothing down her dark hair, strictly adhering herself to that keto diet, doing her skincare with the dedication of one who prays nightly to god (pick any)—is wholly justifiable. Look at her. Anyone would understand.
The dress she wore for her hosting show slips off her body. Her abs reflect in the mirror, the result of hard work in the gym. Wonyoung’s waist is impeccable. Magazines have written over and over tips to attain it but it seems that the signature Bratz doll feature can only belong to Wonyoung. The makeup was cleaned up by her stylist but her eyes still shine, her lashes are still long, and her lips are still plump.
Wonyoung is standing there in nothing but her underwear, an attractive set of lace. 
Wonyoung is the perfect female form, a goddess from above choosing a man from below.
Wonyoung is beautiful, a feat that no matter how amazing besides true, she remains the same old fucking bore.
“Did you like my MCing, babe?” she asks.
“Uh-huh.”
Her legs, long and thin, move in planned strides down the room. To the bed. You know where this is going.
Your feet are killing you. Recline, welcoming yourself into the softness of the expensive mattress and pillows your wife paid for all in all. “Wonyoung, I’m tired.” 
She’s a celebrity. Of course, endless days filled to the edge with schedules chase after her. She ought to understand. The nights are her only rest hours, yet with this energy, it’s like Jang Wonyoung never gets exhausted. Always bubbly, always sweet, always so seductive. 
All these are positive traits that any other man would adore and own had you not married her. 
Wonyoung makes an adorable sigh. “But you say that everytime,” she replies sullenly.
She’s pushing her lips out into this cute pout while her brown puppy eyes beg you to give in like you used to. Once upon a time, you were putty around Wonyoung. Never could give an answer without your voice shaking. Never could come near her without blushing. 
She’s the prettiest woman in the world.
You’re the most awful, undeserving man in the world, for all you could think, as you look at her, is: Fucking bitch. 
“Well, maybe it’s because I’m always tired.”
“How about,” she puts a finger on her chin, “I do the job for you?”
Her knees are bruised. You notice this when she drops to them so she could pull your pants to the ground. So she’s been doing this for so long? Lowering herself for you? Sucking you off? You thought that she’d get the hint by now: you don’t want to have sex with her.
So instead, she uses her mouth. Better than her pussy anyway. What are you saying? She’s a tight woman. But it’s the same thing everyday: she gets on your cock and you hear her annoying voice straining as she rides you. Her cunt, soaked and useless, makes you want to call her its name. She’s always needy. It isn’t flattering when you don’t reciprocate it.
It’s a goddamned chore. Wonyoung’s throat welcomes you. The other way around, actually: your cock welcomes a claustrophobically closed passageway and has to deal with it until you cum. It’s an unwanted visitor. She rang the bell, said hi, and you let her in. Doesn’t mean you like her there.
“Doing so good, baby,” you say. Oh, yeah, doesn’t mean you mean it either—although you do feel Wonyoung smile happily. She’s happy when she makes you happy. When she makes you give her the illusion that you have any happiness in this worn-out marriage.
Her lips seal around you. You can feel them suckling. Your knees are tense. The moans are forced, though. Hearing them come out from your own mouth makes you want to place a pillow over your face and press it down as hard as you can.
She slides you down her throat. Admittedly, you love the way she chokes. Her eyes get all watery, like she’s crying from pain. That sounds appealing. 
You’re a critically messed up man, you know. But they’re what make the world go ‘round. Why do you think they write romance books about them—the bad boy, the mafia boss, the killer? Plus, one of those “terrible” people inspires the biggest Korean celebrity to continue hosting, dancing, and singing. So who’s so terrible now?
To conclude, if anything, you’re the one responsible for Wonyoung’s success.
To conclude, you groan as desperately as you can then release in her mouth. Wonyoung gags. Another pretty sound. Her eyes look up while she attempts to swallow. Saliva sticks to her chin. Semen floods up to the roof of her mouth. It reminds you of how it ends up there more often than in her womb.
You would’ve made beautiful children with Wonyoung in another world where she wasn’t famous and you actually loved her. You would have been a softer, kinder man. She would have been a person who’s easier to love and make love with.
“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, that… was incredible.”
If you weren’t a director, you’d be the one on camera. You’re a great actor when it comes to your wife. Your incompetence in the house is masked by husbandly exhaustion; an artificial gaze of attentiveness hides your indifference to conversation. 
She smiles coquettishly. “I try.”
The wide closet parts. She chooses a pair of silk pajamas that hang around her thin frame. She climbs onto the bed and wraps an arm around you. Her skin is always cold to the touch. Like she’s dead or something. How interesting.
You stroke her hair. “I’d return the favor but… I’m actually gonna pass out. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She kisses your forehead. Wonyoung’s a sweet girl. “Good night.”
You smile. Say it back. Her eyelids flutter closed. Her palms are flat against each other and are placed under her cheek. Cute, you guess. She sleeps. 
You don’t. 
You should have—nothing good ever happens after midnight.
-
2:05 a.m., more specifically.
-
Amazing how time slips through your grasp like air. You reach and reach, desperate for a return, desperate for a flash to the past. As always, your efforts aren’t fruitful. The seconds pour through the pinched waist of the hourglass and you can’t stand it on its other head. You’re unable to revert back to the moment you took your arm from underneath your wife’s skull. The moment you opened your phone. If you hadn’t, maybe things would have been different.
But it’s past two, and you’re resting your back on the pillowy headboard with your phone in your hands. The circumstances just play right into danger: Wonyoung’s asleep, the night is eerily quiet, and the screen is there, awaiting the secret routine. Which girls would you cum for today? Why aren’t your thumbs clicking over censored sites?
Your feed shows a naked woman, her eyes staring up and her mouth wide. Scroll past that—you prefer the amateur videos, where the expressions balance between exaggerated and naturally provoked. A ton of videos could help in the bathroom where you take your nightly “shower,” and it’s not one of those.
Maybe you need the real thing.
Look at Wonyoung. Perhaps you should have let her ride you just so you could cum in a warm pussy again. After all, it’s the least you could do when you were once a fan of her. That’s how everyone starts: puppy-like adoration. But she doesn’t have the star quality she once did onstage; the coy thoughtful princess you envisioned her as. That’s why you haven’t fucked her in weeks. 
You’re about to wrap your hand around your cock and ready yourself for another night of conflicted pleasure. This video is perfect for that already. You could jerk yourself off then get a good night’s sleep. Simple. This is the safest option for a dangerous want. By just watching, you’re not cheating on your wife. It’s just porn. Jerk off, cum, cum again probably, then sleep. Nobody gets hurt.
“Fuck me… please,” whimpers the woman in the video. Her legs are spread open. Her partner’s swiping his cock at her lips while she looks at him with equal hunger, equal desire. “I can’t take it anymore.”
Then, a text message notifies you, peeking from the top of your screen. It dares you to click it.
And it says the exact same thing.
fuck me please, i cant take it anymore. 
i miss you 
You look around, like you’re afraid someone might see it. There’s only the dimness of your bedroom that greets you. It’s safe, but this message isn’t. 
The number is familiar. Has one of your friends gone crazy? Or did they send a text to the wrong person? Take it for spam, a perfectly coincidental one, or a scam, a typical, preying-on-the-married, pwning message.
But why would a contact spam you at a time so strangely perfect?
Don’t bother. Your fist works on your dick as you watch the video. The woman’s so wet that although she isn’t squirting, her juices start to stick to the man’s thighs. Her mouth is wide open as he finally pounds her. 
What you’d give to have good sex like that again. 
XXX-XXX-XXX sent a video message.
Fine. Click it, you’re curious.
Oh, so apparently, the answer is your marriage.
The video shows a face that’s more intimate than familiar. The ebony-black hair already tells you who she is, as does her body. Her form is encased in a floral tank top and nothing else. Although her chest is covered, she’s still a little daring with how her nipples stamp the fabric. She turns herself around to let you admire the curve of her wide hips and her round butt.
There’s only one woman with a body so perfect. And she’s the one and only Kim Minju.
There are reasons for everything. This is yours for why you didn’t give this number a name: 
No one needs to know just from a text that you cheated on Jang Wonyoung.
That was so long ago, back when you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. You were drunk and missed Wonyoung’s old self. Why did she have to be such a bitch? Why did she dedicate herself to work and leave you dry? It’s not like the industry would go bankrupt without her. Minju came over, listened to your complaints—every little whine about Wonyoung being busy, every little jab at her workaholic character—then said something along the lines of, why don’t you have a little fun while she’s away. 
And you thought… yeah, that was a really great idea. 
That was the beginning of the end. After multiple secret meet-ups and raunchy sex in alleyways, you didn’t contact Minju again. You forgot her. You thought she did, too. She should have understood that your infidelity, albeit alluring, would be a thing of the past. 
But here she is, in your messages, with a pornographic clip of herself in a round-cornered bubble. She’s waiting for a reply. 
Although you’ve long lost your aspirations to be a better husband, you type what a good man should. This man is proper, faithful, and loving. He loves his wife only and the only other people he loves with this deep of a bond is his family. 
Stop texting me or I’ll block you. 
It’s not enough. You’re not a good man. You aren’t proper or faithful or loving or any of that shit. You were about to masturbate to an internet celebrity after turning down sex with your wife. What about that makes you a good person?
:( you miss me sooooo bad it’s pathetic, Minju replies.
You look at her again. You may not be able to turn back time with your metaphorical hourglass, but you can turn this hourglass body into any position you want. You could push her against a window for all to see, perhaps fuck her to the floor, or slam her on a desk like a teacher would to a test paper. Minju would let you do anything to her.
Stop it.
She really has to. As much as you dislike Wonyoung, she’s your wife, and you vowed on your wedding day to only have eyes for her. 
But you’re only one man against a body like Minju’s that curves in every right place.
Three circles float up and down in a contained bubble before she texts you back:
alright…what a pity :( i’m already outside!! i guess ill have to go back…
You’ve never bolted out of bed so fast. 
You look back at Wonyoung as you stand in the doorway. She’s still in deep slumber. Now, are the curtains closed? The entrances locked? Scan the house thoroughly, until you inch your way to the front door. 
Hesitate. You didn’t know you had a conscience but here it is. It tells you to wonder if Minju really is behind it, like she said. She knows how to use the privilege of being Wonyoung’s close friend. That’s how she came to your house like she used to with no worry for paparazzi or suspicion. Best friends don’t fuck their best friends’ husbands, right?
Open the door. This one did.
Minju grew more beautiful in her absence. Her hair is silkier this time and her shy smile is brighter. The long coat is smoothed by her fingers, and you wish you could be the brown piece of fabric her pale hands run down. What makes you guilty for thinking it, even when you’ve done it, is the fact that she looks so innocent. It’s like it would be a crime to even buy her a drink. 
How could she be innocent with that photo she sent? The time you spent together: you folding her over a table and promising to fill her up? Fucking her while Wonyoung is busy and counting on you to welcome her home? Sending nudes like there’s no tomorrow? Nothing about Minju is pure, yet she acts like she could do no wrong.
“Minju,” you say. Your voice sounds fragile. She has a way of breaking you befote you’re breaking her into breaking another bed. 
She blinks theatrically. Everything she does is angelic. “Glad you opened the door.”
The knob is cold in your fist. It chills your animalistic brain and urges you to consider the consequences. Right, it says, here’s what a human—a good one—would think. If Wonyoung wakes and sees you with Minju, she’d have a lot of questions. If paparazzi are somehow hiding in the forest that extends to acres before your house, everyone would know you’re cheating on her. Most of all, you’re married, monogamy and everything. 
So what will it be? This is your last and only chance to send her away.
You know what you have to do. Take a few breaths. “You have to leave. I’m not joking, it isn’t right.”
In response, Minju unravels the ribbon of the layers sealed around her waist. It falls apart. You do, too.
She’s a real danger. As it turns out, the girl isn’t wearing anything underneath that trench coat. She’s an artist’s naked muse—bare long legs, wide hips, and a sizable bust that has sculptors carving something else.
The cold hardens her pink nipples. You notice how her breasts are much bigger than your wife’s. How her hips are more tempting to grab, so you do. How her body is meatier, a lot more enticing that you wouldn’t refuse a day without touching it.
Minju fuels your infidelity, and you won’t stop for it if it kills you.
She simpers, fingers curling into your work shirt. “Still wanna make me leave,” she asks, “when you can breed me all night long?”
You laugh, huffing it out as you pull her inside and close the door behind her. Minju looks gorgeous pressed to it. She looks gorgeous in whatever situation, actually. Her thighs squish against the carved design and look thicker as a result. More reasons to dive into that shaven cunt and abuse it.
“You’re not leaving until we make a fucking mess, Minju.” You take your shirt off. Throw it on the ground. “And we better make it quick.”
“Of course.” She nods. She’s slyer than a fox, but she submits to you without a second thought.
You lean in to kiss her. The heat is unbearable. You can feel it from Minju’s body transferring to yours. It’s the effect of her natural skills as your personal slut: trying to fit her tongue deeper in your mouth while you pull her close like she’d dare to run away. 
You haven’t gotten this hard for anyone else. It’s always been Minju you fall for. You miss the way she kisses, the way she roams her hands all over your torso, the way she’s goddamned insatiable. Feeling it all now in one, heated moment makes you dizzy. You’re taking in too much of her, but without her, you’d go thirsty again. 
Your fingers are in her hair; hers are on your waist. Your teeth are clamped down on Minju’s bottom lip; hers are apart and allow soft moans to pass through—one, two, three. You fit each other in so many wicked ways. They did say misery loves company.
Open your eyes. The dream doesn’t stop. Minju’s still pushing her mouth in your face and you’re letting her. You don’t know if you ought to be relieved or downright horrified. You’re cheating on Wonyoung again with a woman whose body is just a bit nicer. You should be furious at yourself. You aren’t.
You’ve made out with each other on the way to the dining room. You and your wife worked hard for its designed walls and sturdy, well-furnished ornaments. A lot of money was raked out to make this house the best place to call home. So, why do you want to ruin it?
Well, because of her.
Minju leans on the dining table with a funny smile on her face. “She really doesn’t do it for you, huh?” she asks.
It makes you wince how you know who she’s talking about. Who else is she referring to other than poor Wonyoung? Poor, skinny, ugly Wonyoung?
Nibble at her earlobe. Hear little gasps come out of her. “Don’t talk about her,” you say.
You don’t want to have any afterthoughts about fucking Minju. Besides, being reminded that you’re disloyal to a woman who loves you very much is painful, even to a man like you.
Wonyoung is an angel. Minju isn’t—but you run after her to darkness.
“Ohh, come on, I know I’m better than her.” Minju squirms with erotic moans. Your kisses are going south, and she loves their little detour. “You don’t fuck her like you fuck me.”
When was the last time you worshiped Wonyoung? Like what you’re doing to Minju now? Your lips haven’t passed over it in ages that you probably wouldn’t know where the bigs and smalls of her body are. Like there’s anything to know. 
“Actually,” you snort, “I don’t fuck her at all.”
You stop chuckling. That was the wrong thing to say. That was the wrongest thing to say out of the millions of other cocky phrases you could’ve thrown to Minju. The look on her face, the one that’s of pride and submission and dangerous knowledge united, tells you to watch your mouth. 
You’re five seconds minimum too late to listen. 
Minju grins. There’s the answer she wanted. “That’s how it is? Just looking at a girl and thinking you wanna stamp a divorce approval on her forehead? Jesus. This is why I never got married.”
“First off, nobody put a ring on you because you’re a slut, Minju.”
“That’s only the third reason.” Her fingers drape the sides of your face and tugs you in. You’re invited to the sight of her infallible tits. “These are the first two.”
The girl isn’t as busty as that woman Wonyoung likes to call her industry mom, but you bet they’re better. No, it’s a matter of truth. Minju’s boobs aren’t too big or too small; just the perfect, filling size to hold onto when you’re railing her from behind.
You choose to suck on them for now. It’s like a trip down memory lane when you kiss down her neck and collarbone. You remember how good her smooth, soft skin feels beneath you, how her moans are a favorite tune. Minju bites her lip while you do so to her shoulder.
It’s crazy to think that she just so happened to be born with this. She was born to be a pretty face with a sex-defined body that you pull and push and pry apart. Best thing is, she’ll lay back down and beg for more. It’s like she knows her purpose, which would’ve shot down her dignity and humanity.
Her nipple pops in your mouth. Your sucking guarantees its hardness, and Minju starts whining. She arcs her body, wanting something rougher. Thus, you seize the span of her hip to rub her pearl with fierce speed.
“Oh, fuck, god—” What others might take for blasphemy, you take for praise. Minju’s already soaking wet. She would have had embarrassing laundry to do if she wore panties. Maybe it’s a good thing she arrived wearing nothing.
She’s still so sensitive. You caress her clit after a few kisses down her midriff. She fidgets needily like you aren’t already touching her. You’re nearly right—this touch is nothing when she needs something harsher. That something involves you treating her less than a human being, putting her down and tearing at her hair. 
“Please just fuck me,” she whispers. “Breed me, breed me, breed me—”
Yeah, that’s what she wants.
You don’t need further motivation, not when you’re presented with the prettiest pussy you’ve ever seen. Her fat lips are soaked. They frame the clitoris you’ve been stimulating that shines with slick. Then there’s the tiniest hole below it that begs to be used.
Your digits shove past all tightness. Her wetness allows a deeper exploration, so you curl your digits like you’re beckoning the orgasm forward. You know how easily you can get it out of her. All it needs to get Minju cumming around you is a slap, roughness, and giving her what she wants anyway. You know your methods, she knows hers. It’s a recognizable cycle that despite this, you can’t break.
Part your fingers widely to spread her. She’s so wet that she soaks your knuckles. There’s an ocean inside her waiting to be waved to shore. A storm, too, brews from the base of her throat as Minju whimpers. Her body lifts off the table but you force her down on it. She isn’t going anywhere, not without a fight.
Oh, and fight she does. She was an idol before an actress, so her muscles still memorize the circling motions that repeat on your fingers rather than move onstage. She sang once. That was a long time ago yet her voice sounds perfect as it strains her moans. Every little thing she does is a reflection of her past. 
That’s why when she leans back, pupils dilating north, and says “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” you get deja vu.
Your palm hits her clit, adding impact to your strokes. “There you go, little slut,” you snarl. “Are you happy now? Maybe even a little grateful?”
If Minju’s ass isn’t pressed down on the glass mantling your dining table, it hovers so her pink little hole receives you better. It’s not without the help of her weak hands clinging to the table for dear life, but she seems to be losing her balance. Her hips are shuddering. Her beautiful face is squeezed up into a blissful wince. Her breaths are becoming blunt little gasps that say none of the gratitude you want to hear.
You slap her boob. Red blooms from her pale skin that deepens when another impacts her bosom. The recoil dizzies you. If anyone’s getting the impression that you’ll slap her bouncy tits until you hear a proper word of thanks, they’d be right. First impressions are right just for once.
“T-thank you—” Her voice cracks, breaking like her. “Fuck, shit, thank you, thank you.”
Squeeze her cruelly and pull on the perky nipple. Your thrusts become mindlessly paced. Your hand returns to your cock while the other ruins her pussy. The pleasure is telepathic. It’s connecting you; her screams and squirms make you do the same. The electricity firing up in your veins is a shared network. When you point your fingers to her spot, she arcs her back in the same direction. How beautifully fucked up is that? 
“That’s not enough. You didn’t come here for nothing. What do you want, Minju?”
Minju babbles. You got your gratitude but not a proper answer. To be fair, she can’t speak when you’re fucking her like it’s your dick inside her, and when your lips are all over her collarbone. 
“And you better keep quiet,” you add, curling your thrusts, “or Wonyoung‘s gonna hear. Do you really want her to know her precious friend is a big slut?”
However, despite the rumors she starts, Minju could be a very good girl when needed. 
“Need you to make me cum,” she whispers. Her midriff is fluid as water with the way it rolls, showing off the hourglass shape of her waist and a soft tummy. “Do everything to me you can’t with Wonyoung. P-please, I can’t take it.”
Even if she can’t (wrong by the way), you’ll make her. She asked for it. She walked up to your house with a purpose: to be used, to be treated like less of a human being. So it’s understandable that you slam her down the table and seal a hand around her neck. 
She’s so light that the forceful push doesn’t break the fragile glass. But there’s something of hers instead that’s going to be broken.
“Oh fuck! It’s so–” Minju’s eyes roll back. “Ohh… oh!”
Little sparks of wetness shoot in the air. Your pace turns merciless. With just three fingers, you puppet her body. Strings are pulled—her arms raise and her long legs strain to pull you in. You push and she keens, you pull and she yells. You’re making her desecrate the place with her water.
“C-can’t breathe.” A squeeze of her beautiful features—eyelids wrinkling, mouth parting, cheeks filling with scarlet—occurs before she squirts again. She whimpers pathetically, sounding so pitiful you want to laugh. “Ah, fuck, daddy—”
Something stirs inside you. When men hear that name, it ought to feel purely platonic and familial. They’d hear it from their daughter and feel compelled to protect them from men who’d do to them what you do to Minju. But you much prefer hearing that two-syllable word when it comes from a naked woman squirting all over the floor, from whom once you register it, you’re urged to pin her down, tie her down, hold her down.
Ironically, you release her. That isn’t because it’s over though. “On your knees. Follow me.”
Minju releases a gasp, grateful for the oxygen. The color returns to her face yet she barely has the energy to get off the table. You’re a generous man, and hey, it still counts as helping. So you yank her hair and force her on the ground. She fucking moans, a feat deserving of a healthy spank to her ass.
You walk to the living room. She follows you withher hands and knees bearing the cold tiles. You lead her to the place where you spend your time watching movies, rehearsing, and hanging out with Wonyoung if she’s ever home.
Speaking of, glance at the door of your bedroom. It’s still closed. It’ll stay that way.
Look down after wondering why Minju’s noisier. She’s playing with herself on the floor with no care for the cold chill of the tiles or the little dirt wedged between them. She lightly rubs her abused clit, quivering at the contact. You expect that from her—she’s corrupted, an irredeemable cause. She’ll get herself off anytime anywhere.
But what’s unexpected is what those watery eyes are focused on: you, in a framed picture on the wall. You look younger, happier. You’re in formal garments standing next to Wonyoung in a church.
It was you on your wedding day.
You spit on Minju. “Filthy cumslut.”
The drool slides down her cheek like a tear. She darts her tongue out and licks it. One could’ve thought it was candy considering the lift of a smile. 
“I’m sorry, daddy,” she says resolutely. Her fingers still toy with her entrance. They won’t serve her well when there’s a bigger, better thing behind your pants to do it for her.
Your pants are already off. “Get up. Get the fuck up,” you command, but you do it for her. 
You grab her neck and force her up. The look on her face is addicting, the way the shock turns into carnal need, the way she bites her lip. You press her to the wall, right under the framed wedding pictures, and finally plunge yourself inside her.
“Oh, oh, oh!” 
What did Minju do to get this tight? Her walls are squeezed closer around you than you remember. They’re still wet from her squirting, easing your burden of fighting against the tautness of her core.
Her groans are pitched just like how you pitch yourself in her and make her fight for it. She tries everything: gathering the strength she has to push her ass into your crotch, rolling her body, looking back to watch your cock disappear between her lips. 
“So big, daddy!” she cries. With a lick of her lips, she turns to face you. “Mmm, d-do you ever get this massive when you’re fucking Wonyoung?”
That seals it. There’s no restraint in using her body. Her plump ass leading to her toned back is a temptation by itself. You’d burst all over it (maybe in it) if you weren’t already firm in breeding her. But dear god—it rises and descends into your angled pumps so effortlessly that you aren’t afraid to spank it like you’re angry at her. 
“Keep your whore mouth shut.”
Spank after spank you bestow and you realize, oh, you and Minju are really made for each other. The more her ass reddens, the more hot pain sparks on your palm. She throws herself back hard, you piston her harder. 
Your puzzle pieces stick together so perfectly that it’s a shame you didn’t meet under different circumstances. She could’ve been an adorable girl next door and you could have been a guy looking to slip her a love letter. She would’ve been your loving girlfriend, a beautiful wife, someone you’d actually enjoy touching, so different from the woman asleep in the bed upstairs.
But that’s never happening. Minju’s a slut through and through, and she’ll forever be a sin you won’t go to confessions for. She was made to be fucked then discarded of when she’s no longer of use. You see it in the way she’s in a mantra of craziness, the way she yells, the way she looks back at you like she’s daring you to hurt her.
You choose the dare rather than to tell her the truth. You curl her hair into a fist and pull her into you. 
“God, I’m so close.” Minju’s trembling body grows warmer in your touch. “I’m gonna cum all over your big gorgeous cock. I can’t hold out longer, daddy.”
Your teeth dig into her earlobe. You could make her bleed and she’d still find a way to make the pain heavenly. “I thought I told you to be quiet. Is Wonyoung waking up and ending your life worth it for this?”
“What if I say yes?” 
“Fuck.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice, making her see you’d give her away to get a night with me? You’ll give up all this stupid shit t-to be my daddy. Because Wonyoung’s just sooo worthless, isn’t she?”
Savage her cunt and shove your fingers down her mouth just so she could shut up. You love this. Minju’s always so ready for you. 
No, actually—now that you think about it, you hate it. You hate how she’s curvier than your wife, how she’s more alluring than she could ever be, how she moans despite the blockage in her throat. Everything about her is so sexy that the sound of her choking up spit makes you throb. 
This is the wrong time to have a conscience. You’ve already split her apart. You’ve already got your fingers in her hair that pull hard to the point that damage is highly likely. You’ve already—
—got Minju screaming, biting down on your skin as her legs spread. What a strange thing to have as a natural reflex. That’s all she knows to do: spread her legs, hope her innocent face attracts a guy into her home and his dick into her pussy. Her skin, white as snow, has become impure with red blemishes. You see her purple-bruised neck flex when she yells into your hand. 
“Daddy! Daddy!” Minju yells. Her fingernails leave fine scratches on the wall. “Fuck, I’m squirting so much I don’t know what to do—oh fuck!”
You bump the manic girl up on your knee before spreading her legs. A godless squirt of her juices hits Wonyoung’s face, the savior being the glass protecting the picture. Others bless their homes with water blessed by esteemed priests; you like to stand out. Choose to have Minju’s unholy juice flood the photo you once held dear. 
Did something possess you? An evil spirit, a god of fertility? All are clichés but you can’t help but think so when you notice how fast you’re pumping Minju. It’s like greed’s finally reigned you. It’s difficult to resist. Minju just wrings your cock perfectly dry with her tight cunt, keeps you speedy with her desperate moans. You’re vandalizing her with your climax and she doesn’t want to be clean ever again.
“You think you’re special, Minju?” You press her to the ruined picture. Her side profile mashes on the glass. “You’re nothing, only a useless hole, just like that bitch. Now clean it up.”
Her eyes light up in shock. Excitement? “What?”
You pull her head back in order to have her full lips pressed against Wonyoung’s face. The clear squirt is still dripping from it. Minju’s face is red, and although your cock left her moments ago, she insists on tensing like it’s there. Is that how she lives? Her way of bonding is riding on the high she got the night before and the night before that. She always has sex in her mind that thoughts of it occur to her as they would to an animal. 
That’s right; she’s an animal. Perhaps even a dog would have more self-control than her, ironically. 
“Lick your mess,” you command. “Now.”
Minju whimpers. You bury your fingernails in her scalp until she loses her fake hesitance. Her tongue glides on Wonyoung’s face and relieves her of the mess. Her lips part and close, taking in her own taste. 
She looks like she’s making out with your wife. Her pretty face smudges the other pretty face in the picture and it’s so much hotter than it’s got the permit to be. Wonder how it’ll look if she’s actually kissing the real Wonyoung—picture them with their legs locked together and tongues coming out to play—and you’re hard enough for another round.
“That’s right. You want to be Wonyoung so bad? You want to be the one I drive into the bed everyday? So fucking make out with her.”
“Y-yes, daddy. Oh.” Minju’s moans fog the glass. “I taste delicious.”
 It’s probably a hygienically reprehensible thing to do. But her mouth is dirtier than the picture anyway. You force her lips deeper into it until you pull her away, satisfied.
Not quite.
Rub her clit a few more times. Hose her squirt all over the floor. You’ll have a mess to clean up. Oh, there’s all the evidence: her squirt on the floor, her lipstick in the shape of a languid kiss on the picture frame, the mess she made in the dining table where you ate her rather than your food. 
But it’s all worth it. An evil idea plants and sprouts in your mind. “Bedroom.”
Minju pants. Her hands are flat on the wall. She turns to you, saliva and lipstick smeared on her chin, and asks, “W-which one?” 
“You know exactly where.”
Her wide eyes tell you wordlessly that she got the point. She’s well aware of what room you want to use her body next. It’s not even supposed to be a question given the ways and moments you fucked her there.
“But daddy—if, if she hears us?”
You grin. “Then you’ll have to be pretty fucking quiet.”
The best thing about Minju besides her body is her passiveness. She may act up sometimes but she still needs your cock, and she’ll do anything to get it. So when she hangs her head to hide her smile, you spank her. It speeds her steps to the staircase. Continue doing so all the way.
It’s funny how she struggles to even lift a foot. Streams of your cum and hers slide down her legs, staining the carpet. You’ll have to wash that out, too. If you have the maid do it, she’s likely to put two and two together. 
Even from the back, Minju’s body is beautiful. Her reddened ass twists from side to side and brings attention to her wide hips. The deep line on her spine is a path you trace your fingertips on. She quivers. 
“Daddy,” she whines.
Hit her butt. Let it fill your palm. “Keep on walking.”
It’s borderline dehumanizing. You’re treating her with a ferociousness a woman like her should never have to go through. The eyes of the painted men and women on your walls lock on her. It’s like their hard stares are real. Minju bears the blows to her cheeks during her walk of humiliation up the stairs. Tiny yelps are caused by each one. It’s in her to be quiet now that Wonyoung is quite near, although not as close as she is to another heavy orgasm.
You slap her pussy, making her shake, then lead the juices mingling in it up to her asshole. She chews on the inside of her cheek to hide her moan. She reaches the last step with a huge sigh of relief. 
The finality of the torture doesn’t last long. Fuck, it doesn’t even exist. You collect the semen and wetness from her legs, then drag it right back to her pussy.
You shove your fingers deep in her cave. There. Now your cum stays inside her. After that, it’ll drip all the way to her womb. She screams through pursed lips. 
Push her hard against your bedroom door. Her stomach’s flatness goes up to the point that it’s the only thing engendered into the wood. Minju’s tiny gasp is already loud for you. Her beautiful side profile is mashed deep into the solid barrier between the two women.
Minju whimpers. Is she scared or heavily turned on? The thing with her is she likes both. So, yeah—she’s wet at the thought of being caught with you, being fucked within a distance of your wife wherein she could finally pin down your infidelity. 
The little angel closes her eyes when your words hover near her prone ear. “Shut up,” you warn, “unless you want to lose your career. Or this dick.”
You slip your shaft between Minju’s shapely thighs. A friction is nurtured and grown into rough, pant-accompanied humping that leaves both of you breathless. Her pussy lips splay warmly on you and you’re allowed to rub yourself on her clit. 
Minju tenses up. Her breaths are kept to a hummed volume yet their huskiness gets you to fuck her legs faster. The core between them is so warm and you haven’t even welcomed yourself in it again. 
You carefully open the door. You don’t know what you’re expecting: Wonyoung crying with her face in her knees? An anger you never knew she could have? But what shows calms you. There’s your wife who remains asleep on the bed. From the soft snores, it’s easy to tell she’s deep in a dream.
“Wonyoung’s so pretty, daddy,” whispers Minju. You push her to the footboard where she holds on tight. “Do you think she’ll want to join if she wakes up? Or she’ll leave you for me?”
“Are you sure you want to act like that?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Depends on what you’re gonna do to me.”
Everything. You’re planning on doing everything to her. 
Push her to the small pole of the wood. You’re forced to shove your fingers in her mouth again to keep her from yelling. The contact it makes to her clit is already overwhelming. But she’s all for overwhelming—she wants the kind of sex that leaves her beaten and bruised, the kind that leaves her sore and not knowing if she should tell you to keep going or halt. 
You know what she’d choose.
Minju grinds on the pole. She’s dancing her hips again. Somehow, things of the past don’t leave her. Her idol days still leave an impact on her. The guy she made cheat on his wife a long time ago returned to her life to cheat again. 
No, you’ve never been one for sentimentality, but things have somehow stayed the same. The slut that is Minju today was a slut all those years ago, too. 
Grab her hips and force her to hump the ball of the pole. She soaks it instantly. Minju is corrupted to no hope of return. There’s your cum, leaking from her pussy and to the bedsheets. Her juices wet the pole and increase the creaking noises that would wake Wonyoung up if not for whatever dream she’s having.
“Oh, daddy! Oh, daaaddy—” she stammers, words bitten and broken in the major need to be quiet.  “Just… fuck me. Please?”
“As long as you—”
“Be a good quiet girl, yes. I’ll do anything, daddy. Anything for this cock.” 
She kneels down. Her tender mouth seals around your left testicle. You nearly shout right there and then. Minju’s running her lips on the underside of your swelling dick. She feels so good, and she is so good. She has all the tips and tricks to keep you hard memorized, if her brain wasn’t too full of other dirty thoughts.
The rasp in your throat materializes and makes her squirm her legs together. She puckers her lips then slips your cock through their joined entrance. Her almond eyes look wider tonight. Your tip pokes the back of her throat. She lets it rub there for now. You find pleasure in the texture that makes you leak. No, you can’t cum. Not yet.
Take a last look at Wonyoung before diving your rod to the depths of Minju’s throat.
It’s funny that the girl still has a gag reflex. Sucking dick is second nature to her. So is getting throatfucked. The walls of her oral hole flex to keep you in. She makes sharp inhalations only to take in the musky scent you thrust on her. In her?
Choking comes after. The orifice grows tighter which makes you fuck it harder. Saliva’s slick liquid state sheens your erection. Minju’s lost her breath a long time ago but she’s lost more than that now. The regular beat of her heart is gone. You can’t search her face for any color other than the palest white. 
“You have to stop gagging, Minju,” you say. Don’t help her though; keep ruining that throat. “Maybe you really do wanna get caught. Makes you really wet, doesn’t it?”
She nods. Your hard tip bobs in her mouth as she does. Her pretty eyes, with their long lashes and big pupils that always seem to gleam with innocence, fill with watery tears. 
“How cute.” You’re surprised that her hair is intact to her scalp after you pull it back. “But I make the rules around here. And I need you to seal that mouth shut and use it for good.”
There’s a possibility that, like Minju, you’re a dancer as well. But the upward grind of your body has no grace in it. It’s a rough, punked up beat that renders the girl humming and screaming.  This roughness is nowhere close to natural.
You dip your cock in her just to see how far you could go, how far is needed to keep her quiet. Feed her more than she could suck. Every sensitive spot of yours is on fire thanks to Minju’s dutiful tongue and hard sucking. Your sack slaps her chin so hard it’s surprising it doesn’t hurt. 
But, like you iterated, Minju isn’t normal. She takes the pain for pleasure and doesn’t give a damn if she gets wounded because of it. 
The tears finally fall from her eyes. 
The lines blur. Who is she—the woman asleep on your bed or the woman you fucked to be disloyal to her? Minju’s beautiful; so is Wonyoung. Jang Wonyoung is beautiful but there’s a category of beauty wherein the girl you’re destroying right now falls in. That’s the section for women who look pretty when they cry, who’ve accepted they’re as fucked up as whoever finds them and takes them in for who they are.
Your wife is pretty. You guess. But Minju is a beauty who lets you do everything to her, and that makes her a little bit more important.
Defile, defile, defile. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you get cum in her hair—(”I have a photoshoot, babe, you can’t!”). Semen sticks to Minju’s locks right now. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you be this rough with her—(“And what if they see? I shouldn’t look dirty to the fans.”) Minju is sitting there taking it like she’s just a cum dump. Wonyoung wouldn’t let you tear off her clothes because “they’re couture so it’s not really mine.” The coat Minju wore coming here lies discarded on the first floor.
Wonyoung doesn’t let anyone defile her. It’s her most fatal flaw. It’s the flaw that makes her husband see all the tiny imperfections she doesn’t allow the camera to see and chase highs in another woman’s throat.
So when Minju cries, gags, chokes—you realize it’s all so simple.
Slip out of her. The delusions clouding your head make you steal a look at the bed. Oh, now it’s unbelievable. Wonyoung is still asleep.
Not that it’s any inconvenience to you.
You prop Minju up to the vanity table. The counter carries the heave of her small chest. She can barely lift her head up. It makes her carry a look of humiliation that’s not at all true. She’s the most shameless woman you’ve ever met.
“Daddy… daddy…” 
Twist her chin so she can look at herself in the mirror. Her body is amazing despite the handprints and bruises peppered on her stomach, butt, and neck. She flusters but your finger presses on her lips before she can look away.
“Not a single sound,” you remind her. 
She nods. Good girl.
Minju’s a capable girl. Well, mostly. She offers those amazing dicksucking lips, shapely curves, and sometimes, her ass for ruining its own tightness. But nothing beats the feeling of her cunt. It’s all the right things: wet, tight, and perfectly quivering as they wrap around your shaft.
Minju closes her eyes. Bites down on her lip. She fights to be true to her promise of silence. Being a good girl and bad girl simultaneously is one of her versatile traits. The table creaks louder than expected. You would’ve shot another look at your spouse again, but Minju’s pretty face is in the way. Her cheeks are scarlet and her brows bead with sweat. She really is a beauty.
Your strokes are ceaseless. The thing that shocks you the least is the fact that her legs look as if they spread wider and wider. She splits while you split her apart. Place a hand on her tummy to muffle the sounds of skin colliding and wood creaking, and reach a better end: your cock is hitting her guts, making a bobbing print on her flat stomach.
“Look how deep I am, Minju.” You grin wickedly at her reflection. “You call me daddy anywhere, don’t you? How about I become a real one?”
Minju bounces herself on you. That’s a yes. A definite, enthusiastic yes. 
Your penetration is rougher, gliding on places she can’t even imagine. If you cum right now, and this far in, you’ll live up to your name of “daddy.” Minju isn’t the only one who has to keep promises.
Corner a pulse point on her neck. Her core squeezes and although its resistance is tough, your pumps are more so.
“You’ll be my secret good girl. Daddy’s gonna put a fucking baby in your stomach, and no one has to know it’s mine. No one has to know you’re mine.”
Minju pouts, not out of sadness but of the orgasm that’s creeping from her feet to her center. It’s so close she could reach for it, taste it like a strong wind. You allow the tiny breaths and pants that leave her to be exemptions from your bedroom law.
“Wonyoung would be so happy for you.” You lick the sensitive spot behind her ear. “‘That’s so great, unnie! Come on, tell us who’s the lucky guy.’ And you’ll have to stop yourself from telling her that I did it. Can you do that?”
Minju emphasizes each repetition with a responding throb and push of her cunt. “Yes, yes, yes—”
Allow that, too. Burst inside Minju. Flood her insides with cum that shall infiltrate her fertile womb. Soon, that tummy would be round rather than flat. It’ll be your baby. 
Minju got what she wanted in the end.
-
The next day, Wonyoung will wake up crying. 
It’ll happen early in the morning, when the moon is still up and sheets still wrap your exhausted form. But she’s sobbing so loud that it’ll rouse you. 
“What’s wrong?” you’ll say. 
She’ll tell you about a dream she had. Wonyoung’s going to narrate a complex dream of Minju, her beloved former member and best friend, seducing you. It happened right in the house and in front of her. You dared to do it to her while she was sleeping and thought she didn’t know.
And you?
You’ll take her in your arms, kiss the inside of her trembling wrist, and say, “Oh, honey—it’s okay. I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”
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knightyoomyoui · 1 month
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[SMUT] TWICE Tzuyu x Male Reader - "First Time"
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Here's a Tzuyu smut for 2024, which is the first and one of my two remaining smut fics left before I offically end my TWICE smut anthology series. I guess I can't give that much hint already for what's gonna be the final one, since I feel that you guys know already if I say that it would be my toughest challenge so far on both writing one-shot fanfic and a smut genre respectively. Just noticed that simply my main agenda right now after returning for my hiatus is to finish everything I've left behind that are this close from being complete, and it all starts here. Enjoy reading, you horndogs lol. WARNING: mature content, contains smut, +18 WORD COUNT: 5800+ TAGS: friends with benefits, vanilla sex, masturbation, oral sex, thigh fuck, blowjob, pussy licking, ass eating, fluff, doggystyle, anal, body worship
Here's my Ko-fi account where you can drop your donations or ask for a commission. You can check it out on my Tumblr profile too!  Buy knightyoomyoui a Coffee. ko-fi.com/knightyoomyoui - Ko-fi ❤️ Where creators get support from fans through donations, memberships, shop sales and more! The original 'Buy Me a Coffee' Page.
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You are heavily concentrated on the project that you are currently working on your desktop. It was already 11PM and you haven't had any dinner yet since you're the type of person who wants to finish a work when so invested in just one sitting.
Stretching your back on your swivel chair for a second after you switched to another template in your editing application, you heard your doorbell rang from outside. It surprised you because it's unlikely to have visitors at this rate of time.
Eyeing the heavy long metal beside your door, you carefully made your walk through the door and braced yourself to open it. Gripping the doorknob tight, you slowly turn it. Before you were about to swung it open, a familiar voice spoke from the outside, even surprising you more.
"Y-YN a-are you still there?"
She might have probably seen the lights from your windows still open, and essentially confirming if you are still awake inside or not anymore as she knows that you can sleep on either the lights are off or on, and she's aware also of what time is it already for her to do this.
Any threat or risks that you felt was completely swooped away when you heard her voice. Opening the door wide, there you saw your bestfriend Tzuyu standing in front of you.
As she raises her head, your eyes caught a glimpse of her own... and it doesn't share the same good condition. Her looks baggy, reddish, and... watery.
"Tzuyu, what brings you here?" You asked her curiously. "A-and... did you cried?"
Tzuyu nodded and in a swift moment, she slowly comes up to you and hugged you. You were dumbstrucked at her actions and what happened to her that made her be like this, but what matters first is that this poor lady in your arms definitely needs some comfort.
Raising your arm, you gently patted and rubbed her back as you let her pour all her tears on your shoulder. "Just let it out, Tzuyu. I  don't know what is going on, but I'm here for you okay?"
That's the reason why Tzuyu primarily chose to come right at you whenever she needs help. You were just there all the time for her, and it's so rare for people to make an alloted time for their special someone to accompany them whenever they need to.
"Let's go inside, it's already late." You invited her in to the house. She quickly followed and remove her grasp at you as you paved the way for her to enter.
She stepped inside, and you closed the door. "Let's go there." You pointed at the couch next to your workplace.
Tzuyu silently followed your command before she finally spoke as she got to sit comfortably. "Thanks for this, YN." Her voice was shaky and rough.
"What happened, Tzuyu? Is something wrong going on?" You asked her as you poured some hot glass of milk and cookies for her. "I know you always come by for my help but I didn't expect you to be here in the middle of the night."
"I-it's my parents." She wiped her tears off and clasped her hands together, laying them down on her lap. "They're having another huge miscommunication again. It's been like that for almost a week already, and I can't stand it anymore seeing them like that. I had enough, that's why I decided to run away and come seek for a place to stay in... through you."
You understood her purpose of appearing here immediately. "And you're free to stay here whenever you want, I'll do everything for my friend." Tzuyu smiled at that, but almost sincere as she felt slightly different at that statement. "What was your parents arguing about, if I may ask?"
"It's about my dad going out frequently these days looking for some cash to borrow from. I think he's been into loaning for sometime, much less to our knowledge. He got fired from work when the company he was working in decided not to accept everyone who has a health condition due to safety regulations, and he got both detected that he has acute diabetes and is already middle aged." Tzuyu began to explain.
"My mom was a stylist at a salon but her salary wasn't enough now for just us to sustain because we need it now too for my dad's treatment. Then, just now, they got into an argument when my mom learns that my dad was secretly making loan from most people these days without her permission. You know how loan sharks can be dangerous, right? But my dad just defended that he just want to do something for us to still gain money and he doesn't want to stay at home doing nothing for her family."
Tzuyu started to tear up once again, from the mixed emotions she's having from both of her parent's side in their tough situation. You once again assisted her by giving her a clean cloth to wipe her tears away. "Now I get it. I do understand your father's point though. It's hard for a parent to just find their selves doing nothing when they know the hard time their family must've been going through.
It's their responsibility to take care and provide their daily needs, and not doing that so will ick them uncomfortably. Even if doing loans was also quite not a good idea, atleast you can see how your father loves you and your mom. Your mom was just angry at your fad because she doesn't want him to get in danger once he couldn't be able to pay all his dues in no time."
Tzuyu nodded at you, pinpointing all the comments you have to say regarding her concern, as it makes sense anyway. "I was starting to consider to help them by looking for some job to do to earn money for them, but I'm not that decided yet plus... I don't really feel it yet to engage at work while I'm still studying you know."
"Ahh, the fear that you might be unable to do both of them simulteanously, huh. You don't want to fail your grades, isn't it?"
"Yeah." You were right. You know Tzuyu to be actually a smart girl based from the earlier times when you first met her and your experience of her being your classmate. She has a lot of potential, but what you like about her is that she's careful on using those and avoid the possibility of wasting it on the wrong time.
"You know what, save it for tomorrow. You should go to rest, you look unsettled at the moment. It's already midnight." You mentioned as you looked once again in her droopy eyes and gloomy demeanor. "We can talk about this again for tomorrow."
"T-thank you again, YN." You nodded for her gratitude. "Stay here, okay? You want to watch TV?" She agreed. You opened it for her. "Entertain yourself there with your milk and cookies, I'll be just finish my task here."
She obliged, and she lets you do your thing there on the desktop. Minutes have passed, and with all those glances Tzuyu has been giving on your busy self, she began to get curious at what actually you are doing.
She stood from her seat and approaches you. Peeking at the monitor of your computer, you were shocked when she ducked next to your side, her pretty face almost inches away from you.
Your fingers nervously types from the keyboard and moves the mouse as you just let her observe what you are doing. "What's for the edit?"
"Commission." You simply answered. "Client requested to create a presentation for her upcoming thesis research. She has no other time left because she spent too much researching and revising her topic. Good thing she already has parts prepared for me to input for each slides."
Tzuyu hummed. She continues to watch you do your work while also admiring the fact that you are doing a sideline also apart from your current education. "So you are part-timing too?"
"Freelancing to be exact. I'm the one who looks for clients and offer service. Mostly editing, as you can see."
You started to sense the purpose pf her inquiry. "You know Tzuyu, my only advice about what you're planning is that you are doing right. Don't rush about it. If you don't feel the passion of it then don't head straight. It's hard to do something that you didn't even feel doing in the first place."
Tzuyu keeps that in mind. "Can I put up some suggestions?"
"Sure do. Would love to hear it from you."
She then began to point out some more details she can imagine in her head and you judged it with her by trying it on your work. It almost took half an hour before you finally finish it, saving you some more time of impring your butt too much on the chair for sitting too long and tiring yourself up.
Fortunately, Tzuyu helped you to wrap up early. "Oh wow, I didn't know you were so good at designing. Tzuyu, I swear I see some potential in you."
Tzuyu blushed and became embarassed. "Damn it, YN. Stop fluttering me." You chuckled and awwed at her cuteness. "But thank you."
"You should consider freelancing too, maybe you can attract a client that pays a lot but I hope you can endure the huge assignment."
"I'll take note of it." She nodded. You noticed that she already emptied her milk and cookies. "Cmon, let's get you to your room for tonight."
Tzuyu followed you and both ended up in a bedroom that is cozy and suitable enough for a single person to be used. "You can sleep on the bed, I'll be here on my extra cushion here."
She gasped and became shy at your gentleman act. "B-but, YN... this is y-your room. I'm fine-"
"No buts, no ifs. You are a woman who should be treated with respect. Now please, you can take mine for the night."
You were about to set up the cushion on the floor but Tzuyu tugged your arm. "Yes?"
"C-can you just stay with me on the bed?"
You became speechless at her request. The fact that you are about to sleep with Tzuyu close to you has effectively boosted the blood cursing through your body, creating goosebumps on your skin. You became red and flustered about it.
"W-what? Why?"
"I- I can't sleep without hugging something." Tzuyu pouted.
"I have an extra pillow though."
"I need something big that fits me to cuddle." Her voice became even more softer. You sweared that your heart is about to melt. "I have a life-sized bear that my mom bought for me since I was a kid on my home but I don't want to go back there for now. So... c-can you be my cuddle bear for now, if you might?"
You sighed heavily at how Tzuyu looks so pure and beautiful pleading at you with her puppy eyes and that mellow visuals. This is what's pulling you back: it's your freaking crush and the idea of sleeping with her on the same space, same bed is what's unraveling your lack of composure.
But you don't want your friend to be sad and disappointed because of your stubborness. "Alright, fine. You can hug me in your sleep."
"Yay! Thank you, YN!"
Both of you laid down on the bed you turned around with Tzuyu facing your back, as you can't endure much longer seeing her face too long, although it would be a delight to have such this wonderful sight before you sleep and to wake up in the morning.
She wraps her arms at your waist and hugged you tightly. You blushed when you felt her soft breasts squished on your upper back, sending your heart to race. She buries her face at the crook of your neck before sending a chilling whisper close to your ear.
"Goodnight, YN."
"G-goodnight, Tzu..." You breathily replied before you and her doze off to slumber.
The next morning, Tzuyu woke up first than you. Her eyes slowly opened, regaining her sight, and the first thing she saw was your side-profile. You were now laying flat on your back beside her.
She indulges the pleasant view of your peaceful state, smiling on her own happiness to have such an amazing friend and an irresistable crush like you. Although her frown began to shape from her lips when she remembered the reality that she is still uncertain if you do feel the same for her.
Intaking this moment of you and her in one bed, nothing around but a room filled of silence and being struck by the bright sunlight of the morning. She looked at your bodies laying together until her eyebrows furrow when she spotted something strange under you.
Tzuyu saw a hump-shaped formed onto the blanket that is covering your lower blanket. She was curious to see what it is as she noticed how it almost seemed like it's moving.
Taking off the blanket around you, it had her thinking twice if what she just did is not right at all.
But that doesn't mean she didn't like it at all.
Tzuyu was staring at the source of that hump, and that is coming from your short that is having a tent marked on your crotch.
Unlike from the blanket, what she's looking at was even more obvious at what shape it is. It was long, large and diagonally laying down, measuring it as it reaches down to the upper part of your thigh.
Tzuyu was blushing hard as she realized that she just witnessed you having the most common thing for boys: a morningwood. You have no idea at all that you have a woman beside you who is clearly seeing how hard you can get with whatever reason it may be.
She became so curious, almost deciding if she'll take a touch of it to found out what it feels. Her hands raised up and fidgeting to go forward onto your crotch.
That is, until she got interrupted when she shrieked a little as she saw you moved, and your new position got her swallowing her threat and nervousness crawling inside.
You are now laying sideways, with your front figure now facing her. Tzuyu can feel your morningwood pressing against her bare thighs, and she swear that it's driving her hormones crazy when her skin can feel the warmth of your covered erected cock laying down on her touch.
"He feels so big, oh my goodness." Tzuyu whispered. She even teased it by gently bouncing your cock on her thigh by moving it up and down slowly. Her thighs start to rub with each other as she is beginning to become horny.
"N-no... control yourself, Tzu. You don't want to end up harassing your friend while sleeping. This isn't right." Tzuyu quickly shook her head before carefully removing herself away from your side, standing up from the bed.
As she is now on her feet, she glanced downwards and noticed a wet spot on her shorts. She was shocked to see that she got easily wet thinking about your elongated cock earlier. It had her panicked and rushed quickly at the bathroom to aid this.
Minutes later, you woke up after still in your morning wood, not having any clue that Tzuyu seen that beast earlier. You tried to fixed it by repositioning it on your boxers and hid it under the hem of your shirt.
You exit the bedroom and saw Tzuyu preparing your breakfast on the table. "Wow, Tzuyu I wasn't expecting that you'll be the one to cook." You chuckled as you saw the mouthwatering scrambled eggs and fried rice with the plates.
"Well, I don't want to do nothing while staying here you know. I want to remain productive too." Tzuyu smiled. Her eyes glided down to your shorts and remembering what she just saw almost distracted the stability of her mind. "G-good morn-ning, YN.", she awkwardly greeted you.
"Good morning too, Tzu. Let's eat?"
The two of you began to eat and start some random topics to talk during your breakfast. After both were finished, you volunteered to do some dishes while Tzuyu asks permission to take a shower in which you granted and willingly let her borrow your spare clothes for the meantime.
While you on your way back to the kitchen to grab a new clean rug from your storage area, you heard something that catched your attention from the bathroom door. Your hearing is very sharp and sensitive that's why you can immediately catch on the sounds around you.
And this one is a bit surprising and... enticing. You pressed your ear closer at the door and there you heard loud and clear the sound of someone moaning inside. It definitely is coming from Tzuyu and judging from the noise she's creating, you probably guessed that she must be doing something to satisfy her needs: and you cannot believe it that you have your girl bestfriend masturbating in the bathroom of your own freaking house.
You quickly rushed away out of the door when you noticed that the noise stopped. As you returned to the kitchen, you gently massaged your cock getting hard from that sultry noise.
Is s-she... Fuck, I'm getting turned on with my friend masturbating. Goddamn, control it YN. You don't want her to caught you acting lewd." You hissed yourself before continuing with your dishes.
Tzuyu emerged from the bathroom, just as time you finished washing dishes. You sheepishly avoided her by quickly grabbing your towel and take your turn next at the bathroom to shower.
 As you stepped inside after closing the door to see Tzuyu sitting on the couch and looking at her phone, you looked around your bathroom and had you imagined Tzuyu doing her own business earlier in this exact spot.
It made you rush quickly on taking a bath while fighting with the urge to masturbate by squeezing and massaging your cock and balls with soap, basically edging yourself away from doing so.
It was then you finished, you realized that you forgot to bring your clothes with you at your rush. "I have to be quick."
You opened the door and was about to dash outside when it shocked you that Tzuyu was walking at the same direction as you, emerging out from the kitchen, resulting in her to collide at your naked body. Her feet accidentally pulled your towel after she slumped backwards to control her balance, causing your towel to unveil your lower part.
Both became speechless and flustered as you realized that your largened cock has now exposed to Tzuyu's innocent eyes. You tried to cover it with your hands despite it's massive size. "O-OH SHIT,  TZUYU DON'T LOOK!"
You exclaimed to her but instead she remained staring, gawking at it's size. "Oh my god please turn around, i'll take back my towel. I'm so s-"
"You don't have to, I've seen it already."
"Huh?"
Your face crumpled in confusion at what Tzuyu said. "I-I've seen your thing a while ago after I woke up and I noticed that it's... h-hard. It's bulging on your boxers that I was concerned it might break it by itself."
"And I-I felt bad about it, I- I almost want to help it..." Tzuyu slowly steps forwards, removes your hands from blocking it and returns her sight at your cock now pointing at her, she inspects how it throbs everytime her eyes stare longer at it. "T-Tzuyu wait..."
"Does it give you difficulty right now, YN? I-I'm willing to help you, if you d-don't mind." Tzuyu looked at you with her mischievous soft demeanor. You gasped at her offer.
"But Tzuyu, are you sure about that? This is so embarassing but..."
"Hmm?"
"I don't have a problem w-with it, it's just that... oh God I can't form my words coming out of my mouth well!"
"Don't stress yourself, you said it already." Tzuyu shushed you as she patted your chest. She leaned at your face and landed a surprise kiss on you, making your eyes widen and jaw drop more at her action. "For now, just let me repay you in return for helping me by doing t-the same for you~"
She slowly lowered herself down to her knees, now kneeling in front of you. Her eyes and now leveled equally with your cock facing at her. She bit her lips and viewed at it with mesmerizing gazes. "I've only seeing these from the internet, and I was so right that to see this in personal is a much better deal to admire. I might get addicted with this."
Her hands surrounded the thickness of your cock. She slowly pulls it and bends it upwards, tightening her grip before she starts pumping it in a dangerously slow pace. She heard your deep sigh and looked upwards to see your face floating in cloud nine.
"Does it feel good, YN?"
"Y-yeah, it does. God, it's so much better than using my own hand."
Tzuyu smiled at that compliment. She started to stroke you even more, her fist kept that grip before her other available hand started to come to play too, targeting your testicles.
Your hanging huge balls got fondled with care. "It feels so full and heavy, YN." She pointed out. "Are you even doing it?"
"Y-yeah..." you said as you started to hold her hair and rub it gently.
"How often?"
"J-just... two times in a week, sometimes months." Your breath became raggy as she began increasing the speed of her fists jacking off your thick meat. "Oh god, Tzu..."
"Are you ready, YN?"
"For what?"
She didn't had to reply verbally, but instead gave you the answer orally by circling your mushroom head leaking pre-cum already with her tongue.
"S-shit! I'm sensitive t-there, oh!" You gasped loud as Tzuyu continues to do foreplay on your helpless cock, licking the entire length and juggling each of your balls with her puckered mouth.
After feeling satisfied, she now puts your entire meat inside her mouth and starts bobbing her head off. She fucked herself with an increasing force until her nose is now touching your groin.
Tzuyu pointed at her head and hair to signal you something in which you understood right away. You gripped it and started doing the favor on your own by fucking her mouth with your own choosing of speed.
Your desire on having such lustful act with Tzuyu is making you overwhelm, urging you to participate further in this with her. With the tightening of your groin, you mercilessly pounded her face to race through the end.
"I'm cumming, Tzuyu. Where do you want me in?"
Tzuyu just pointed at her throat. Few pumps and that's all it took for you to blast off your warm seed, filling up her mouth with your load that was saved up for months of your inactivity to ejaculate.
She slowly lets go of your cock with a loud pop before cleaning her lips with the remaining traces of cum left. "We can do it right here, but my pussy is unavailable for now. I-I don't want to get pregnant y-yet..."
"It's fine, Tzuyu. I respect that." You got her point. She must be fearing that she might cause additional stress for her parents in the middle of their financial crisis just to assist her on supporting her pregnancy and the child's needs once she gave birth to it.
You took a mental note that now you're having sex with her, a necessary caution would be required first to perform to ensure the safety.
"But that doesn't mean we can't pleasure ourselves anymore without that. You can still use my body... wear condoms, but only for this another hole I got behind me." She said as she stood up and turned her back on you, making her posture upright as she presents you her ass and rubbing it on your cock.
You had enough of her teasing, you lifted her shirt up and pulled her through her torso. Your hands climbed up to her bra-covered boobs. They are average sized at it's finest, perfect enough to fit in your palm.
You unclasped her bra and removed it around her, now playing on her naked tits while you devoured her neck with supple kisses. She purred and yelped at the sensation she's getting from you pleasing her.
Your fingers pinched and twirling her nipples before you turned her around and made her kiss you. You carried her body and brought her on the couch while she is wrapped around you.
You sat on the couch with her on your lap. Letting go of her lips, you then head on to her breasts by give the attention it deserves, sucking and licking the light-brown delectable areolas and nipples that she have while massaging each it to intensify the pleasure.
Tzuyu was just moaning at your active mouth running around her sensitive area. Your hands then moved around her ass as you kneaded her cheeks from her short before you hooked on the waistband and removed it from her legs.
Her now exposed underwear is the only garment she has left. She crawled on the bed and went all fours. You switched behind her and kneeled, facing her alluring ass as you removed her underwear and took a sniff on it.
Her asshole and the outline of her restricted pussy is now visible to your hungry eyes. Without no more hesitation, you rubbed yourself around her cheeks, making her gasp at the air that you blew from your nose and mouth having in contact with her private areas, tickling her into goosebumps.
You start licking her pussy, wiggling her outer walls before you spreaded it with your fingers then inserted it inside, making Tzuyu scream in surprise. Your mouth then worked next on her hole and sucked on each of her cheeks to grab a taste of her cake.
"Mmmhhmmphhh yeah you're so good at this, YN oh fuck~" she said while grinding her ass across your face and feel your fingers pumping back and forth in her pussy. She started to shiver when you quickened your movement, leaving her in a screaming, groaning mess.
"Ughhh yes fuck fuck fuck YN i'm so close, keep that fingers deep within me~" Tzuyu purred as she gripped tight at the back of the couch, enduring the huge pleasure being provided to her by her dear bestfriend.
"I'm cumming, i'm cumming on your face YN!" Tzuyu yelled before she squirted her love nectar straight to your awaiting face and mouth, tasting and slurping her juices as you slowly rode her orgasm out with slow fingering.
You didn't let Tzuyu to recover some more time as you stood up and jerked your cock at the gaps of her ass. "Are you ready, Tzu?"
"Yes, please. I can take it. I want it to be you, YN. You're the only one I trust."
"I'm glad so, Tzuyu. Tell me if I need to stop okay?"
She nodded. You directed your tip to her entrance and slowly entered. You heard Tzuyu groaned as each inch are now pressing her hole.
"A-ah wait, YN let me adjust." Tzuyu hissed and fixed her position in all fours. "Alright, continue."
You gently pushed deeper and now your cock is inside her ass. You started to move, and you gasped at how tight her ass feels around you, feeling the way she clench when your crotch bumps at her ass.
Sensing that this makes it even feel much better fucking her, you started clapping her ass as you feel like it. Tzuyu just continues to blabber random words of praises and constant moans while your speed changes from rough to vanilla.
Her sultry, sexy voice has reduced to a hum when she felt another splash of wamrth inside of her, but this time in her hole as you shoot another load of cum on her ass with regards to safety of commiting sex with her.
As you pulled out, you saw some few overflow out of her asshole. You gritted your teeth in guilt. "I-i'm sorry, I think I may have done it too much."
Tzuyu giggled and sighed at your considerate behavior. "Don't feel too bad about it, YN. It just means that you really gave it all... which is what I really want from you." She winked.
You blushed before standing back up. "I'm gonna go grab some tissue." You said as you left her for a while before going back to wipe the remaining cum on her ass to keep the couch left unstained with the smell of sex.
"Want to go for one more round?" She challenged you with a smirk as she sat properly beside you, crossing her legs.
"I'm in. What do you want next?"
"Hmm, I think it's time for you to decide for this one. I'm already satisfied with my own cravings, now it's your turn." Tzuyu said, posing herself like she's in deep thoughts. "May I ask you one? What part of my body do you actually admire?"
You traced her naked body but there's this one specific part that drives you crazy whenever you get hynoptized at it's perfect shape and thickness. "If i'm going to be honest, your best gift that was sculpted by the gods for you is your heavenly thighs, Tzu." You swayed your head while whistling at how magnificent it looks.
"Tell me more about it." She flirtatiously whispered at you while playing with your hair.
"I love your ass, those cute tits and that talented mouth too, but your thighs are just too immaculate. Too unmatchable. It's so jiggly..." You started to ran your hands around her well-built thighs. "So smooth, so thick... I would be really honored to be suffocated in these damn pillows."
"Now you gave me an idea to show me what more of these can do." Tzuyu winked. She reaches for your semi-limp cock, awakening it back to it's full size by flicking her fingers around the bulbous head. Her legs shifted above your lap, with your cock sandwiched between those voluptuous thighs to die for.
"And you are very lucky to experience such a rare service coming from such Thighwanese beauty." She smirks before she squishes your hardened cock and strokes its skin with her thighs by lifting both her legs up and down.
"Ugh... mmmphh oh~" You moaned at the relaxing feeling of her thick thighs pumping off your shaft, eager to empty your remaining load you got. Tzuyu was enjoying the sight of yourself trapped and savoring the sensation of her strongest exual appeal.
"How does it feel having my thighs wrapped around your big cock, YN?"
"It's amazing..." You shut your eyes and gasped heavily at the feeling. "Shit, I can't hold much longer if you're doing like this to me Tzu!"
"Cum. Cum for me, YN. Let it out."
You assisted her legs on stroking you by holding her ankles while you buckle your hips, banging her juicy thighs smeared with your pre-cum as it ripples from the impact until you shoot another stream of sticky cum all over it including her knees.
Tzuyu lets you rest as she removes her legs from you and scooped all your cum on her fingers before eating it. She also cleaned your softening cock in payback to what you did to her ass a while ago, sucking it off until no drops are left.
She laid her head beside your arm and cuddled at your body. "I'm sorry if this is too sudden, YN. I got carried away that I started to act like this."
"It's fine, Tzu. You just wanted to destress, let's say in such different way." You nodded. "But it doesn't matter, as long as I get to make you happy and satisfied, I'm always open to accompany you."  You smiled at her and caressed her hair. However, it disappointed when you changed from becoming serious.
"And also, I should be thanking you too Tzuyu for this moment. I've only done this for the first time with a woman, and... to be honest I have to dare myself saying this to you that... you are my ideal girl. The one that I admire for months now. The one that my heart only prefers." Your confession was heard in such clear and simple statement by Tzuyu, and she was very strucked and touched listening at your words.
"And what we did means so much to me because I get to do it with the girl that I love, although it saddens me to think if do you even feel the same as mine. I know I could've confessed to you in a much better setting and better time but I just want to express it all right now to clarify that these isn't just driven from lust, but through my sincere admiration for you that is swirling inside my heart. I love you, Tzuyu."
Tzuyu pursed her lower lip and smiled sweetly at your message. She holds your hands and looked dearly at you. "I'm relieved to know that this is both our first-time having sex together. I was a bit nervous and shy at first but I just let my desire and desperate need of your touch control me, and I'm also glad that it has to be you too, YN. I couldn't imagine other deserving man than only you who I can allow take my virginity."
She went forward and turned your face at her to perform another passionate kiss. "Because I love you too, YN and I will cherish this moment that we did."
"Through that, I must take responsibility for this too. Now shall I ask you something then?" You said.
"Go on." She chuckled.
"Will you be my girlfriend, Tzuyu?"
She grinned brightly at your initiation. "I would be very willing to."
After your heated session with Tzuyu, both of you went to wash yourselves again while doing another quickie session after can't stop getting enough yet with your insatiable bodies.
Now back on getting dressed up, you and Tzuyu proceeded to discuss about her family problem story where you have finally lended some advices for her that might be helpful about their current situation.
More than a week later, you helped her to return back on their home after saving enough courage to confront her parents. When they saw her made her heading back to their home, the married Chou couple welcomed their daughter as they have now settled into peace.
Tzuyu and you then decided to maintain their relationship secret for the meantime as they start to date and explore their affection for each other further. You are also planning to accompany her on looking for a part-time job after she decided that she really needs it, as she prepares herself to balance it with her studies. Not forgetting this kind of relationship you established with her, you and Tzuyu would proceed to fulfill more of your fantasies together mostly taken place at your home like pleasuring yourselves in other various positions that involves rimming, entertaining yourself when one of you is bored by feasting on her pussy, boobs and your cock, or even your most favorite of them all: compressing your face in between her flawless ass and thighs until you end up unconscious.
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psychedelic-ink · 9 months
Text
𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni
word count: 7k
summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".
warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink
a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!
part two of ravish
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There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you. 
However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most. 
Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago. 
Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.
Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting. 
But alas, there’s still no sign of him. 
“Dammit Joel, where are you?” 
You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.
It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.
Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were. 
The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest. 
You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing. 
You did enjoy the punishments that followed though. 
A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile. 
Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic. 
“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch. 
Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention. 
It’s him. 
He’s here. 
His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?” 
You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin. 
“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock. 
Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?” 
“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.” 
You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up. 
His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down. 
“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant. 
“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?” 
“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?” 
You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.” 
“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.” 
“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.” 
His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases. 
With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door. 
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Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.
With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.
The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.
You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.
As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.
"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.
His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.
Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.
Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.
His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely. 
“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.” 
You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"
He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?” 
Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass. 
“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning. 
“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?” 
“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it. 
The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.” 
“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?” 
He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?” 
You remain silent. 
“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” 
“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.” 
“‘bout what?” 
His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch. 
“I really really like you, you know.” 
“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” 
You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words. 
“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .” 
You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?” 
“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.” 
“Well. .  . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.” 
“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 
Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly. 
His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.  
“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.” 
“R-Really?” 
He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.” 
Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas. 
Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?” 
“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?” 
“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.
“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.” 
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The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.
You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?” 
His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.” 
All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see. 
“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.” 
Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista. 
The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless. 
Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought. 
Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?” 
“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now? 
“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn. 
It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare. 
“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?” 
Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on. 
“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible. 
“I love your streams!” 
“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.” 
“Can I get a picture?” 
Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead. 
You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.” 
Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star. 
His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?” 
“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook. 
“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest. 
“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?” 
“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”
“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?” 
“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly. 
Joel snarls, “Assholes.” 
“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest. 
“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?” 
“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.” 
“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?” 
Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.
You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.
Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.
Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.
"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs. 
You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.
"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."
He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . .  know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."
You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already. 
Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.” 
Mine. 
One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were. 
Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead. 
“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.” 
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No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.
You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop. 
That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.
The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes. 
His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly,  showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.
"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?” 
The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask. 
Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood. 
“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.” 
His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?” 
"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.
"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"
You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."
His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.” 
Oh, fuck. 
Fuck fuck fuck. 
Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.
Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling. 
“Go and start the stream, honey.” 
Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds. 
With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.
"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."
You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree. 
You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds. 
“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?” 
His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous. 
But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.” 
Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response. 
A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—
His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort. 
Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases. 
His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back. 
“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance. 
He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.” 
Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact. 
Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue. 
Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin. 
Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?” 
God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you. 
“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.” 
He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.  
Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.” 
His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.” 
Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.” 
Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.” 
Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.” 
 “‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.” 
He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.” 
Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air. 
“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.” 
You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.
Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder.  You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you. 
You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling. 
Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.” 
Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound. 
You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.  
“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come. 
“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor. 
“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.” 
“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera. 
“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease. 
Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off. 
He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes. 
You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.” 
“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.” 
You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead. 
“Well, good thing I’m here then.”  
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Text
II Childe’s Anger II
There's a darker side to Childe that he never lets you see. The wild temper he struggles to keep under lock and key in your presence. You were his everything, his one and only, his family---so when he almost loses you, that temper snaps forward like a venemous snake.
childe x fem!reader II angst, hurt/comfort.
word count: 2,865 cash money
content warnings: Descriptions of anger (mention of throwing things but not at reader or in reader's presence), descriptions of injury.
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It doesn't matter how angry you make him or how horrible what you've done is, Childe can always be swayed by you. You could tear off his right arm then sell it for pocket change and he'd still only be able to resist your honeyed words and doe-eyed pleas for about a minute. He just turns into a goofy-faced pile of mush at any hint of romantic attention you give him, no matter how long you’ve been a couple. Usually, if you've pissed him off, all it takes for him to forgive you is a couple sweet cooings about how he's your favorite man in the world and that you'll only ever belong to him. Hearing those promises from you lights his skin on fire, and he just can't help himself from taking your wrist and tugging you up to his lips. But this time…this time you've really done something unforgivable…
You put yourself in danger.
The night before was a good night; you’d made dinner for Childe, you two snuggled on the couch, you watched a movie on the television he’d gotten from a trip to Fontaine—it was sweet and romantic and relaxing…
Until you brought up a sore subject.
While snuggled up in his lap, cheek resting on his chest, him all but purring in content and happiness, you found it the appropriate time to bring up your intentions for tomorrow.
“Ajax…", they way you sweetly say his birth name never fails to make him melt, "There’s a commission up for grabs at the Adventurer's Guild…someone is lost in the chasm and they want an adventurer to conduct the search.”
“Hmm that’s nice.”, he hummed absentmindedly, resting his chin on the top of your head and hugging you just a little tighter. He has a habit of getting too absorbed into movies; it’s actually quite cute—watching his awe-struck face and twinkling eyes on the screen. He’s like an excited little kid, lost in the movie and the feeling of you in his arms.
“I’d like to take the job.”
Silence.
You almost thought he hadn’t heard you until he stiffly reached for the remote beside his thigh and shut off the TV completely.
“…what was that?”
Something you’ve come to learn about Childe after dating him for so long is: beyond his charming, flippant character in the face of danger, and beyond his unserious approach to dire circumstances…When it comes to the protection of those he loves…he has a temper.
An easily struck temper.
“Childe. I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry abou—“
“Absolutely not. You’re not going.”, he said with that edge of finality to his voice you’ve come to be very familiar with, before standing from your shared seat and walking to the kitchen. Putting distance between you two.
Leaning over the back of the couch to look at him---not letting him escape this conversation, you argue, “It’s not your decision. I wasn’t asking. I was letting you know.”.
Normally, you’d be more gentle with your reasoning—carefully explain the safety measures you’ll take and advocate for your skills as an adventurer. But, after playing out this scene with Childe a countless number of times…
No, you can’t go there. No, you can’t do that. Treating you like a toddler that can’t handle herself...
You had, understandably, grown tired of it.
Even from the meters of space between you two, you could see the telltale signs of Childe’s unsavory, protective side rearing it’s head. The set of his jaw, the way he white-knuckles the edge of the counter he’s leaning on…the way he won’t look at you.
There was a long silence between you two—Childe a menacing statue in your kitchen. You weren’t sure if he was even breathing.
You sat there for what felt like ages—starting to get worried about if Childe was ok…would his knuckles break from how hard he’s holding onto that counter?
Finally, he spoke, his voice caught between a breathy exhale and a rumbling growl.
“If you try to go…
…I will keep you in this house until the commission is over.”
You knew he would.
Even with his demanding job, he’d find a way.
So you had no choice but to relent.
“Ok…I won’t go.”
Childe hated being like this—he hated imposing on you, hated the way he reacted to these sorts of things. He couldn’t keep his cool.
But it’s your safety. You're his family now, the most precious thing in the world to him—if anything happened to you…he’d lose himself. He’d go mad and burn every inch of this world down. It would be worthless garbage if you weren't in it.
So he had to be like this. He had to protect you. At any cost. Even if it upsets you, even if it makes you hate him, he’ll keep doing it. As long as he lives, he’ll put himself right between you and any threat—even if it displeases you. Even if he knows you can handle it yourself. Childe doesn’t take risks when it comes to you.
He felt guilty. And when he feels guilty he goes quiet, and distant. His vices are embedded within him—even if he apologizes, they won’t go away. It’s hard to apologize for...yourself. And it’s even harder for him to apologize for himself to you—the beautiful, endlessly loving, perfect person...who made the mistake of wandering into this controlling monster’s life.
You didn’t believe that, but he did.
So he went to his office.
And stayed there the rest of the night.
———
He wasn’t in bed with you when you woke up, when you turned over to reach for him only to get a fistful of cold sheets.
He wasn’t there when you checked his office, either.
...so he didn’t notice when you left to take the commission.
He may be your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your warden. He couldn’t control your actions or tell you what to do. Especially after losing his cool and leaving you to sleep alone last night. If he was just going to disappear on you, then you could disappear on him.
…you knew it was horrible reasoning, but you were too stubborn to turn back.
And what do you know? Horrible reasoning leads to horrible outcomes.
You got hurt. And not hurt like the usual cuts and scrapes you get on your dailies. No. Real hurt. You-could’ve-lost-your-life hurt.
All you had to do today was a quick check in with the search party, a little reconnaissance, and then you’re back before Childe knows it.
But during your reconnaissance, your glider was torn by a stalagmite, obscured by the darkness of the cave, causing you to land on an unsteady wooden mining structure that collapsed beneath your weight. You fell along with the rubble to the bottom of the pitch-black tunnel—your arm crushed by a wooden beam.
And you were lucky. If you hadn’t landed in a pile of corrupted muck, you could’ve died from the blunt force of the fall, but it was still killing you. Slowly. Painfully.
You were stuck, thousands of miles from the man you loved, dying, and he had no idea where you were—wondering if you’re safe. Worse, he could be out looking for you. You can picture his expression clear as day; Childe never shows terror, but when it’s you in danger, his mask falls faster than you did to the bottom of this mineshaft. You can see the fear in his wide, blue eyes. You can hear the desperation in his voice, bordering on a scream as he calls for you—his throat raspy from how long he’s been yelling for you. You can feel his heavy, labored footsteps shake the ground as he clamors around every inch of Liyue harbor in search for you. He would rather die than lose you, so his expression is that of a dying man as he searches desperately, despairingly for you. The image you know is playing out layers and layers of earth above you breaks your heart a million times over—this is your last regret. You left Childe in anger, and now he’ll never see you again.
Your vision finally faded as the corruption overtook you.
———
Childe is one to give the silent treatment, because he doesn't want to fly off the handle and say something he can't take back---so when you wake in your shared bed, your back pressed up against his chest as he holds you securely, you'll have to live through his hard gaze, his set, flexed jaw, and his silence.
“…Ajax?”
Nothing.
You try to shift but he holds you in place like a splint. And after you blink the sleep out of your eyes, you see why.
Your heavily bandaged arm is splayed out to the side of the bed; the bandages cover the various screws and other work put in by healers to preserve what they could of your arm. In your rest, Childe had been holding you still so you wouldn’t roll over and harm yourself further by moving it.
“…they don’t know if you’ll be able to use it again.”, he says, grimly. The first thing he’s said to you since you woke. He said it like it was a personal slight against him—like you broke something he loved with all of his heart. And you did. That’s exactly what you did.
“Childe…I’m so sorry.”, your voice cracks as you speak, tears quickly welling up in your eyes.
He’s silent again. His jaw looks like it might break from how hard he’s biting down on his words. You’ve never gotten the full brunt of the vitriol he’d spit if he didn’t strangle it down—but you’ve heard him give it to others.
He didn’t know you were just beyond the door of his office when he was chewing out his subordinates for a careless mistake that jeopardized an important shipment; you never knew how unforgiving and cruel you boyfriend could be before that day. The way his voice came out in a terrifying snarl, he sounded more animal than man—to the point that you couldn’t believe it was him, considered that maybe you had the wrong office, until you peeked in and saw. His wild eyes, his sharp, chaotic gesticulations, the way he threw the contents of his desk onto the ground in frustration—apathetic to if anything or any one broke. He’d always been so sweet and understanding with you, you’d never even seen him frown, but the way he spoke to those Fatui soldiers…it revealed something fundamental about him to you.
It took you a lot of time to make sense of it, a lot of thinking and insecurity and fear but you realized…the Childe you knew really was jubilant and kind, he was caring and attentive and generous…but he also really was the man you saw and heard in that office that day. The only difference was who he was talking to.
He was still your Childe. He always would be. But he was only yours. So the rest of the world got to see the ugly he hid from you. The ugly that would seep out of him—clouding his gaze in a menacing, red mist, that would turn his grip from gentle to an inescapable vice…that made him say things he didn’t mean.
So no matter what honest and loving words you utter to him, he is unresponsive, and will remain so until he's cooled down enough to organize his thoughts and deal with you.
But you don't want to wait. You don't want to go to bed with only a rigid "Goodnight." from him. After what you’d done today, you weren’t sure if he’d ever speak to you again—what if, once you healed, he’d leave? The thought horrified you. So you had to get him to speak. You had to.
Gently resting the fingertips of your working hand on the white knuckles of Childe's harshy closed fist securing your waist, you say—your voice shaky with tears but still sweet and considerate of him, "Sweetheart...would you open this for me? I'm worried you're going to hurt youself...".
From how hard he was squeezing, it was possible his nails were digging into his palm. He didn't relent at your touch, his gaze averted to the wall just past your head. That was your fault, of course, because no matter how upset you make him, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes. His gorgeous little girlfriend, the one he works so hard to keep safe and happy, the girl he’d do absolutely anything for. If he were to look at you, look into your beautiful doe eyes, and see those eyes full of tears? He’d lose his resolve. He’s angry with you. You did something unforgivable today. So he just couldn’t look. From the pink dusting his cheeks, you could tell he was fighting not to ogle you. Since he doesn’t open up, you slide your hand over his fist to hold it—he doesn’t stop you.
“Childe…talk to me…please?”. You sound so helpless calling out to him like that. Every instinct in his body screams to run and protect you, to respond and give you anything you need. But the only response you get from him is how he tightens his grip around you ever so slightly. Like he’s assuring himself that you’re fine—you’re safe in his arms.
“Childe…please.” the sob that caught in your throat at that please finally broke him. Brought a crack down the middle of the dam of anger and panic he had reinforced and reinforced again while you were asleep.
His voice came out in a quiet, but dangerous rumble. You felt it in your chest before you heard it.
“I don’t see why you think it’s ok to needlessly put yourself in danger like this.”
If he would’ve said anything else, you wouldn’t have argued. You knew you were in the wrong for telling him you wouldn’t go and going anyway. You knew you were in the wrong for getting hurt in a place where he couldn’t find you. You knew you were in the wrong for how you handled the whole thing.
…but you weren’t in the wrong for doing your job.
“It’s not needless, it’s my job…”, you said, gentle as possible. You weren’t going to snap at him, but this was important to you. He had to understand, “…you do the same thing…”
“You’re my girl. You don’t need a job.”
“I can’t just sit alone in the house all day.”
“Then get a safer job. Start a flower shop. I’ll pay for it.”
“Adventuring is what I’m good at. It’s what I love.”
“You’re supposed to love me!”
And there it was. He raised his voice at you.
The way you flinched did not escape his gaze.
He was a monster and he knew it. He knew he didn't deserve you but he couldn't let you go. No matter how much he told himself he only exists to your detriment...he couldn't. let. go.
Like a dragon that stays atop it's hoard even as the walls of it's cave collapse around it. Like a raccoon fishing a coin out of a small hole---no matter how hard he tries to pry both of you out, knowing you're both stuck in his grip, he can't let go.
With that, he clamped down on his jaw again, drawing his arms back from around you and getting out of bed. He broke for the door but your helpless cry cemented his feet to the floorboards.
"Please, Ajax...please don't leave me."
You were used to how Childe would run from you in guilt--the monster, Grendel, fleeing from Herot to his cave, but this time, you just couldn't brave it. You needed him right now.
He just couldn't understand how you could bear to have him in your presence.
He felt ugly, embarrassed and ashamed, but the desperate tambre in your voice told him you wanted him. Even in his worst moments, you wanted him.
So he returned to your side, kneeling at the side of the bed like a devotee, his face just before yours and his rough hand reaching our to cup your cheek---so gentle, like he was convinced you'd shatter in his grasp. His lips were held in a firm line, but his eyes were wells of love and devotion for you.
Only for you.
"Ajax...I love you."
With his deep sigh, the pressure in the room was alleviated--fresh, new oxygen renewed into the space. The tension in his knuckles, his shoulders, and his jaw was finally released. With those three words, he had melted into the Ajax you knew, your Ajax.
"I love you too."
"I'm sorry."
"I know you are."
There was a moment where you two were just, you two. Where he stroked your cheek with his thumb and gazed into your beautiful eyes--his own held that special little sparkle that was typically lost in the void. The sparkle only you get to see.
With a hum, he let's go of you and stands.
"I'll get you some food."
And with your simple nod, he left. But this time, you knew he'd be back.
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Text
[Commissioned]
Career's Dead End: Ex-NMIXX Jinni × M!OC
Tags: Rape, Hardcore, Belly Bulging, Face Fuck, Cum In Mouth, Cum Swallowing, Clit Torture (just the usual pinching, pulling, etc), Pussy Slapping, Squirting, Anal, Overstimulation, Breath Play
Character(s): Ex-NMIXX Jinni × Male OC
Word Count: 7,653
A/N: Since the plot takes place before Jini became a soloist, I will use Jinni throughout the story and her birth name, Choi Yunjin in some of the dialogue. I hope you guys don't mind a long plotless chapter.
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Jinni had always thought being an idol would be a fun gig. You know, basking in fame, meeting new people, and connecting with fans. She imagined herself becoming a household name, doing what she loved for a living. But, being an idol wasn't the glamorous ride she had envisioned.
It turned out to be a lot less exciting, and before she knew it, she was no longer part of NMIXX. Her career ended abruptly, leaving her feeling underwhelmed and detached. She went through the motions like a robot until the very end.
Even though Jinni's time as an idol was short-lived, her former group mates were like her friends. Saying goodbye to them after living together like a family was a heavy burden to bear. It was even more heartbreaking that she didn't get a chance to bid farewell to the other members before leaving the dorm.
Maybe NMIXX's busy schedule was intentionally designed by the CEO to keep them apart from her as if the company didn't want any lingering attachments to form. There wasn't much she could do about the situation, but she had one thing left to do before she left.
Her manager, Hanwol, had been a constant support throughout her idol career. Looking back, Jinni realized she hadn't seen him since the news of her departure from NMIXX broke out. So, here she was, taking a cab to his house, which was nearly an hour's journey from the dorm.
As the cab drove through the city, Jinni observed the surroundings—a residential area with several empty houses or ones still undergoing renovation. She wasn't entirely sure, so she checked the address again.
"This is the place, but..."
The cab came to a stop in front of a one-story house with a white gate. It appeared more well-constructed than the neighboring houses. Jinni paid the fare and got out, making sure to take the bag of fresh fruits she had bought along.
Jinni took a deep breath to steady herself and then pressed the doorbell. Silence filled the air. After a few moments, she pressed the button again, and she heard a crash that she assumed came from the front door.
Soon after, the gate rattled and slid open. Jinni paused, her eyes fixated on the taller man standing before her. His two-block hair was disheveled and damp, a half-empty beer can in his hand. His usual smile was absent, replaced by a hint of weariness.
"Jinni?" he said, his gaze scanning the area outside. Finding no one else, he let out a sigh. "What brings you here?"
"I-I just wanted to say goodbye before, well, leaving. I haven't seen you at the company, so I came here to see you, oppa. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and guiding me during my time there..." Jinni's voice trailed off, a sad smile on her face as she handed him the bag of fruits.
Hanwol reluctantly took the paper bag from her hands, his gaze fixated on it with a blank expression. "Damn..." he cursed inwardly. Was this all he had left after being laid off from his job as a manager? That's what had him looking so disheveled, but of course, the former idol standing before him had no clue.
Sure, he received his salary, but he needed a solid reason if he wanted to apply elsewhere, and he hadn't gotten one at all. He was simply told to move on and good luck with his future shit. The can in his hand crumpled as frustration welled up inside him. No amount of beer could help him calm down anymore.
However, Jinni might hold the truth he desperately sought. She was no longer tied down as an idol, and no one could restrict her anymore. Plus, she was alone now. Hanwol's thoughts became clouded as he eyed her, his gaze lingering on her exposed stomach since the hem of her shirt was lifted and tied behind her back.
"Well, I guess I'll take my leave then. Didn't mean to bother you too much. Take care, Hanwol oppa," she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she turned around to leave.
Hanwol's gaze shifted outside, scanning the usual emptiness of the area. He watched her retreating figure, his eyes now fixated on Jinni's hips, snugly squeezed into those low-rise pants she wore, stirring up conflicting emotions within him.
"Jinni," Hanwol called out. The girl turned back, her eyes meeting his. "Wanna come inside and talk for a bit?" he offered, his smile masking the turmoil he felt inside. At that moment, relief washed over Jinni's face, and she nodded, taking a few steps back toward the gate.
Hanwol watched as Jinni walked further into his house, his body moving on autopilot as he threw the beer can at the corner of his front yard and locked the gate. He caught up to her and opened the front door, gesturing for her to enter. She slipped off her shoes and stepped inside, while Hanwol lingered for a moment to lock the door once again.
The inside of Hanwol's house was plain and neat, reflecting his minimalist taste. The living room was adorned with simple furniture, a comfortable couch, and a coffee table. Jinni took a seat on the couch, sinking into its soft cushions, while Hanwol headed to the kitchen to put the fruits away.
In the kitchen, Hanwol glanced at the sparsely stocked refrigerator. "Do you mind a beer? I haven't done any grocery shopping yet," he called out to Jinni.
Jinni smiled politely. "Thanks, oppa. Don't trouble yourself. I'm fine with whatever you have."
Hanwol rummaged through the fridge for a moment, then remembered the leftover milk. He grabbed the carton and decided to pour himself and her a glass. With the milk in hand, he joined Jinni in the living room, placing the drink on the table and taking a seat in an armchair across from her.
As they sat there, sipping their respective beverages, the atmosphere felt both tight and uncertain. The silence lingered for a while until Hanwol finally broke it, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
"So, Jinni, what really happened at the company? Why did they let me go without any proper explanation?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for the truth he had been desperately seeking.
Jinni's eyes widened at Hanwol's statement. "What? They fired you, oppa? I... I had no idea," she stammered, her grip tightening around her glass.
Hanwol let out a sigh, frustration evident on his face. He downed the milk in one gulp and slammed the empty glass onto the table.
"Doesn't really matter now. I just want to know how you messed up. Why did you leave the group, Jinni?" he asked, leaning forward, his gaze locked with hers.
The former idol bowed her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I have a reason I can't disclose, oppa. But I'll speak to the CEO on your behalf—"
Hanwol interrupted her, his voice laced with accusation. "So, you can't disclose the reason because it's true that you were caught with a guy at a hotel? Is that rumor actually true?”
"Hanwol oppa! You know me! I-I am not like that!" Jinni blurted out, her voice filled with hurt and disbelief. Jinni felt seriously let down by her former manager. Hanwol had always been the one to boost her spirits and believe in her talents, but right now, he seemed like a whole new person.
"Yeah, yeah... My bad..." Hanwol muttered, his eyes fixed on Jinni.
He wasn't wasted or anything, but he was feeling hot under the collar—frustrated and just not right. His mind couldn't help but wonder, secretly hoping that the rumors about Jinni were true, that she was some sort of wild girl behind everyone's back.
"Look, I'm sorry, Hanwol oppa. I didn't realize my issues were getting to you too. I'll still talk to the CEO about this mess," Jinni said, getting up from her seat and giving a little bow. "I'm leaving now. Take care, oppa."
Hanwol stayed silent, his anger simmering inside. He then stood up, his hand grabbing onto Jinni's arm. “Since you're already here, why don't we make it worth our while, Jinni-ya?" Hanwol offered, trying to sound casual but with a hint of malice.
Jinni turned around, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at the towering man. "What do you mean...?"
Hanwol shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you can let me fuck you to make up for all the trouble you've caused?" His words lacked respect, to take advantage of the situation rather than any genuine care.
Jinni's shock was beyond words. She desperately wanted to believe that Hanwol was just messing around, but the grip on her arm grew tighter, making it impossible for her to break free.
"What…? Come on, oppa, you're drunk or something? You-You're hurting and me," she managed to say, attempting to twist her arm out of his grasp.
"No, I'm not drunk, just annoyed and a little horny.” Hanwol let out a chuckle. “Don't be so uptight. There's no need to maintain that squeaky-clean image anymore. You're not an idol now," he said, reaching for her soft stomach and rubbing it.
Jinni pushed his hand away, fighting harder to break free. "Oppa, please... Please let go of me. I know you're angry with me, but you can't do something like this," she calmly pleaded, attempting to reason with him.
"Do what? Unleash the wild side of Choi Yunjin?" Hanwol swiftly shifted their positions, harshly shoving Jinni onto the couch. "I'll give you a good fuck as a goodbye, Jinni-ya, don't you worry.”
Hanwol wasted no time in yanking his track pants down, revealing his semi-erect cock to Jinni without a hint of shame. Jinni's heart filled with fear and panic, but she managed to keep her cool. She quickly got up from her seat and darted around the table, but before she could escape, Hanwol grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her.
"Ack!" Jinni let out a pained yelp as she crashed back onto the couch.
"Seems like you enjoy playing hard to get, huh?" Hanwol taunted, mocking her while tugging her head towards the edge of the couch. He stepped out of his crumpled pants hanging around his ankles, and slipped his legs under her armpits, effectively locking her arms useless.
Jinni found herself stuck upside-down, her head trapped between Hanwol's legs, with his cock noticeably weighing on her chest. This position made her dizzy, but she continued to fight back, trying to free her arms from behind his knees, yet all her efforts were in vain.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Ugh!" Jinni thrashed about, her panic evident.
"Don't ask dumb questions, Choi Yunjin. You're not that innocent. Just admit it," Hanwol asserted, gripping Jinni's thigh and maneuvering her lower body to align with her chest, pressing her butt against the cushioned backrest.
Jinni kicked her feet in the air, but Hanwol just held onto them, hugging them against his solid chest. He squeezed her ass through the fabric, getting all worked up by its softness as his junk on her breast reached its full glory.
"Yah!!! Stop! Please!!!" Jinni screamed her lungs out, trying to push herself away from between his legs by shoving against the edge of the couch with her palms.
Hanwol pushed himself down even more, trapping her tighter. He smacked her ass, making her flinch. "Can't you just stay put, you bitch?" he said, reaching for the zipper on her pants and unzipping it.
"Hell no!"
The ex-idol wriggled like crazy, but Hanwol had a grip on the waistband, wrenching her pants along her legs until they were stuck at her ankles, tying them together. He folded her calves to the back of the backrest and spread her knees wide, his eyes widening at the sight of her purple lace panties. His hands greedily massaged her inner thighs, ignoring Jinni's cries of resistance.
"Holy shit, you've got a fat pussy," Hanwol leered, pinching her squished cameltoe inside the panties.
Jinni tensed up and cursed at him, "Let me go, you disgusting creep!"
Hanwol scoffed and smacked her crotch with an open palm, causing her legs to close up in pain. He spread them apart again.
"Keep those legs wide open. I'm not done yet. Since you're so eager to scream, I'll give you a reason," he taunted. Without warning, he delivered another stinging slap to her sensitive area.
"Aah!" Jinni cried out in agony, clutching onto his legs for support.
Hanwol arranged her body on the couch so that only her head dangled over the edge. His balls intentionally pressed against her chin, while his rock-hard thick cock twitched whenever her breasts brushed against it.
"Why so quiet now?" he sneered, slapping her pussy once again. But this time, he didn't stop. He kept on repeatedly striking her burning flesh with force.
"It hurts! Fucking stop! Please!!!" Jinni twisted and turned in pain, but Hanwol kept her legs spread wide, keeping them in place.
"Come on! Admit it, you're just a cheap whore. The idol life doesn't suit your horny ass at all," he growled through gritted teeth, matching the rhythm of his hand pounding on her pussy. Jinni cried her heart out, her legs shaking from the intense pain inflicted on her most intimate sensitive area.
Just as Hanwol stopped, he ripped her panties in half and tossed the torn fabric aside. The scent of her pussy hit his nose as he got a full-on view of her naked snatch. He ran his thumb over her neatly trimmed pubes before reaching her clit.
Jinni's legs instantly clamped shut when she felt his touch on her sensitive spot. She let out a weak grunt, unable to lift her head anymore after enduring the relentless smacking on her pussy.
"I fucking told you not to close those legs, bitch," Hanwol reminded her, and another slap followed, leaving her already red and swollen pussy even redder.
"Oww!" Her body was in shock. She felt his finger slip inside her slick labia and slide along her slit. She knew exactly where he was heading, but she couldn't do a single thing to stop him.
Despite Hanwol's strong desire to fuck Jinni senseless right then and there, he knew she would fight back until the bitter end. So, he had to break her spirit first, and the plan was simple - make her own body betray her will. His finger found her entrance and slipped inside smoothly, all at once.
"Ahh!" Jinni's back arched involuntarily, her legs spreading wider as he moved his finger in and out. "Oh, God— S-Stop!"
"Quit pretending, Jinni-ya. Admit it, you love this," he stated, holding onto one of her thighs and adding another finger, fingering her with increasing speed.
"Aah! Fuck! Mm..." She bit her lip, suppressing a moan, feeling his palm smacking her pussy while his fingers explored her tight inner walls.
Hanwol slowed down but didn't stop completely, teasing her senses, making her crave more. He glanced at her flushed face, her chest heaving against his cock.
"You should be the one pleasuring me, you know, but look at you, enjoying yourself instead." Hanwol withdrew his fingers and flicked her clit sharply.
"Oww!" Jinni jerked in a mixture of pain and undeniable pleasure. She saw his hand rising. "N-No, don't— Argh!" A sharp slap instantly numbed her throbbing pussy.
Hanwol's two fingers slipped back into her pussy, now wetter and more fragrant from her growing arousal. Seeing that Jinni was weakened, he shifted to the side, freeing her arms and upper body from beneath him. He then folded her legs towards her chest, ensuring that the former idol had a clear view of how eagerly her pussy clenched around his fingers.
As he withdrew, his fingers glistened wet, some of her juice even dripping on her pubes. "Still refusing to admit that Choi Yunjin is a slut?" he taunted with a smirk, observing her flushed and sweaty face. Their physical exertions had left both of them covered in a sheen of sweat.
"I... I trusted you, Park Hanwol. I thought you were a good person but..." Jinni paused momentarily, "Ugh!" She twisted her body sideways, attempting to kick him off. Too bad he now had a firm grip on both of her legs. "Let me go!”
Hanwol reached down and wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a squeeze. "Save your breath, Jinni-ya. Just quietly let me fuck you. Nobody gives a damn about us anyway. Not anymore.”
He tightened his grip, and Jinni's teary eyes shot daggers at him as she swung her arm, smacking his with all her might. Her face turned pale as she struggled to catch a breath, her mouth wide open.
He stood there, watching as her eyes rolled up, and her feeble attempts to hit him turned into weak tapping. Even the legs he held in his grasp barely put up a fight. Jinni was suffocating, and he knew it.
Not wanting her to pass out just yet, he released her legs and swiftly grabbed her waist, lifting her body up and tossing her onto the couch. Her head found support on the armrest, but it hardly mattered as she painfully gasped for air, coughing uncontrollably.
Hanwol wasted no time and positioned himself between Jinni's trembling legs, dipping his thick pre-drooling cockhead between her slick pussy lips. Still huffing and puffing, Jinni's hands flailed around aimlessly, trying to push him away.
"For fuck's sake! Just take my damn cock, you filthy slut!" Hanwol screamed into her face, his voice filled with rage, as he pinned her hands—one above her head and the other against the backrest—ensuring she had nowhere to escape.
"Yah, Park Hanwol... Haa... Don't you fucking dare! You bastard…”
Jinni's futile words were all she had left to fight against her former manager. However, they seemed to only provoke him further. He bent her body in a double, hoisting her legs up over her head and thrusting his crown against her defenseless little pussy.
Jinni let out a surprised "Eep" and wriggled violently, twisting and arching under the weight of Hanwol's forceful press. From her vantage point, she could see his cock slowly but surely stretching her tight cunt around its girth.
There was simply no way around it: she was doomed the moment Hanwol thrust forward hard, and Jinni's eyes widened as she saw all inches of his cock vanish into her, tearing her out and causing her belly to bulge beneath her belly button.
“Too big! Ahh! Shit— too deep… Fuck!!!” She gasped, barely managing to get the words out before Hanwol began clobberfucking her, pressing her down beneath him in a savage mating press.
He brutalized her with each powerful strike, causing her belly to swell at an insane speed. Her abdomen expanded with loud, squelching bloats and swells that outlined his cockhead inside her, leaving her gasping for breath and overwhelmed by the roughness of his smacking her soaking cunt.
The couch shook with each jab, but for Jinni, it felt like her whole world was being rocked at that moment. Her pussy was filled to the brim, a mix of pain and an unexplainable tingle shooting through her nerves, messing with her senses.
Hanwol locked eyes with Jinni, refusing to break the intense gaze. He kept thrusting his throbbing shaft into her, ramming it in and pulling back, perfectly in sync with the rhythm of his hips. His grunt of exertion reached Jinni's ears, making her shiver at the sound that solidified her lower position between them.
"I took good care of you..." he said, his breath ragged as he slowed down, relishing the tight squeeze of her canal. "So don't feel too bad for being such a good girl for me— Ugh!" he grunted in pure ecstasy.
Jinni narrowed her gaze, weakly looking at him. "I fucking hate you..."
The man slapped Jinni, leaving an immediate mark on her face. "Oh, I know you hate me, but you love this cock, you whore," he informed her.
She shook her head in denial and a hand closed around her neck. "Keuk," the sweaty girl gasped, her breath catching. His grip tightened even more. "Eughh!" Jinni groaned as Hanwol's fingers dug deeper into the flesh around her windpipe.
As his pulsing cock ripped into her, Jinni couldn't hold it and gurgle for mercy. Within moments of this harsh treatment, her body betrayed her, hitting her first mind-blowing orgasm of the night. She shrieked and writhed wild under relentless Hanwol.
Hanwol kept on holding onto her ankle above her head while another grip was on her bruised neck. Jinni expression was all messed up, teeth clenched tight as Hanwol gave her the fuck of a lifetime.
His hips barged down like a sledgehammer, slamming his balls on her entrance harder, causing her juice splatter everywhere. Her stomach bulged out even more, and Jinni threw her arms around it, wailing and going absolutely crazy. It made her nauseous for some reason.
Hanwol’s hand pressed the bulge in her stomach and a prolonged groan escaped through her constricted throat. He applied more pressure to the bulge, making her jerk in response, completely overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock filling her up.
Hanwol stopped and pulled out. Jinni convulsed as those veins and ridges of his cock dragged along her sensitive velvety walls. Before she could process anything else, Hanwol thrust back inside, causing her to cry out as the force pushed her upward.
"Ahh! P-Please..." her shaky voice was barely a whisper.
He set an unforgiving pace, his cock relentlessly hitting all the sweet spots inside her. The sounds she made with each pump were like exclamation marks. Whenever his tip brushed against her cervix, her eyes rolled back. Jinni was dripping with fluids, leaking and gushing all around him. Some even trickled down to her butthole.
"Please what?"
Hanwol loosened his grip on her throat, giving her a chance to breathe and speak, but all she could do was whimper and dig her nails into his shoulders. She was on the edge, feeling nothing but knots in her stomach, desperately craving release.
Hanwol let his hand slip between their bodies, pinching and tearing her stiff clit to stimulate her even more with both pain and pleasure. She shook against him as his hips roughly pierced into her. And then without pausing, he grabbed her left leg, placing it on his shoulder, driving his cock to the deepest depth of her pussy.
“Oh shit! You're milking me good, Jinni-ya. Haa— Fuck!”
Once again, she was choked, gasping for air beneath him, holding onto his muscular body as he both strangled and inflated her.
Hanwol took a deep breath and let out a blissful bellow as he shoved his entire cock into Jinni's pussy—way more than she ever thought possible. She went cross-eyed and had another body-shaking orgasm as he exploded inside her, filling her up with his hot, churning seed.
Her poor belly was filled with an excessive amount of fresh semen, a lot of which spilled back out and pooled on the couch. Her trembling hand clutched her swollen stomach.
Jinni was completely shattered, reduced to a wreck by his violation. Hanwol stayed inside her for a moment, panting, before slowly pulling his cock out from her cum-filled cunt, causing her pussy to squirt her nectar all over his crotch as she spasmed and arched her body, overwhelmed by ecstasy.
Hanwol wasn't about to give Jinni a break. He released her neck, and before she could even take a breath, he shoved all his fingers into her mouth, except for his thumb. Jinni gagged out loud, her chest sucking in as she struggled to handle it.
"You don't think we're done, do you? We're both jobless, so we've got all the time in the world to have some fun," he said with bitterness in his voice, recalling how he was unjustly fired.
Anger consumed Hanwol as he viciously attacked her hypersensitive pussy, aiming her clit at the tips of his fingers, repeatedly slapping it in an upward motion. With him between her legs, Jinni couldn't even close them, so they kicked against the couch on his sides.
Jinni's vocal resistance was reduced to gagging and retching as his fingers probed the depths of her throat, forcing her saliva to dribble down her cheeks. Her hands clenched his shirt tightly, but it didn't seem to have any noticeable effect.
Hanwol yanked his hand away from Jinni's mouth, and she shot up, coughing and sticking her tongue out. He grabbed her messy black hair, pulling her up while pointing his cock towards her mouth.
He pressed the tip of his cock against her cracked lips, feeling the anticipation of her warm mouth overwhelming him. Her lips tightened, her teeth grinding together in denial. She glared up at him, a mix of shock and disgust on her face.
Leaning over her, Hanwol tightened his grip on her hair, yanking out a few strands as she tried to pry his hands off. "Listen here... I'm not letting you go. I bet nobody even knows you're here, so might as well enjoy this like a slut you are."
"I am not your fucking slut!" she spat, her chest heaving with anger.
He responded with a loud slap across her face. Her lips parted, and Hanwol sighed as he invaded her mouth, feeling it close around him. He loosened his grip on Jinni's hair, his fingers cradling the back of her head. The wet heat got his pulse racing. He let out a breathy exhale, his eyes rolling back as Jinni reluctantly sucked on his shaft.
"Fuck," he hissed softly.
Jinni's head bobbed back and forth, her tongue embracing his thick flesh. It felt great until he realized she was just going through the motions. It was mechanical and lacked passion. Hanwol growled, his fingers twisting in her hair again before rocking his hips forward, sliding past the barrier of her throat. She gagged, her body tensing, and he groaned at the tight grip around him.
Hips jerking, he grabbed the side of Jinni's head with his other hand to hold her in place. If that's how she wanted it, he'd give it to her. Jinni's eyes darted up to him as he grinned down at her before shooting his cock forward, widening her eyes in surprise.
Hanwol was totally into it, feeling the warm, wet, tight glide of Jinni's throat around his pulsating cock. He thrust again. Her throat tightened. Jinni gagged and struggled, which only turned him on even more. He held onto her head firmly and pounded away, his hips going at it like a jackhammer, giving Jinni's throat no mercy.
Her knees shifted on the squeaky cushion beneath her. She tried to squirm away, but Hanwol had her face locked in place. Poor girl whimpered, choking for air. Drool and precum dripped down her chin, making a sloppy mess.
Feeling the climax approaching way too fast, Hanwol pulled back, his cock slipping out of Jinni's mouth. She coughed and spat, trying to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, lips all swollen, and her skin had this slick shine to it. Hanwol licked his lips. She looked enticing. He gripped his throbbing member tightly to hold back the eruption.
He ran his fingers through Jinni's hair, trying to soothe her, but she shot him an angry glare with those slightly unfocused eyes of hers. Hanwol leaned down and licked the sweat off her ear, making her shudder as she exhaled shakily.
"Please," Jinni rasped, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. She needed a break. A quick one would suffice.
Hanwol raised an eyebrow at her and straightened up. His cockhead brushed against her lips, but Jinni pulled away, denying him access. Hanwol just tugged her hair, yanking her head back. He bucked his hips forward as he entered her mouth again, rubbing himself against the inside of her cheeks and then felt Jinni's throat moving as she swallowed.
Honestly, Hanwol couldn't remember when he closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he saw Jinni's lips wrapped tight around his girth. Her eyes were shut, brows furrowed, and she really got her technique down this time. Her lips and tongue worked their magic, occasionally grazing him with her teeth, making her gag even before he was halfway down her throat.
Jinni spread her knees wider, like she was trying to ground herself somehow, and her head started moving faster. She forced herself onto him, shaking and gagging as Hanwol pushed past the resistance at the back of her windpipe before pulling back.
Moaning and totally lost in the moment, Hanwol tightened his grip on Jinni's hair, his mouth hanging open as he kept hammering forward. Jinni's eyes shook with fear, but she didn't back away, knowing things would get even rougher if she did. Instead, she braced herself as Hanwol went at her mouth with renewed intensity. He grunted, completely caught up in the pleasure.
She was hot, wet, and soft, spinning his world around like crazy. He fucked her face even faster, pounding into her stretched throat, savoring every desperate gag. Jinni's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down her cheeks, and Hanwol let out a loud cry as he buried deep. Leaning forward, he cradled Jinni's head in his hands as he blew his load down her throat.
With no choice in the matter, Jinni swallowed every drop Hanwol gave her, but some of it dribbled from her mouth, ending up on her chin. When he was finally done, Hanwol pulled away, leaving Jinni slumped forward on the couch. She was awake but weak, panting loud and hard.
Hanwol's thirst was somewhat quenched, enough to make the air feel steamy as he finally took off his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He then helped Jinni peel off her sweaty clothes, tearing her tight shirt in half down her back and yanking it off her body, leaving her kneeling there on all fours in her bralettes.
Not that he cared about her boob size or anything, but he figured it'd be better if she was completely naked. So, he unhooked her bralettes, letting the lacy fabric drop down. Jinni didn't put up as much of a fight anymore, which made him give her bare ass a smack, printing a reddish mark on her skin.
Jinni fell silent, her heavy breathing the only audible sound in the room. Yet, Hanwol's frustration lingered, leaving him unsatisfied. He had come this far, so why not push further? That thought crossed his mind.
Giving in to his negative emotions, Hanwol grabbed a handful of Jinni's hair, pulling her upright. With his other hand, he explored her chest, groping her breast. Moving on, he caressed her stomach while gazing into her fluttering, puffy eyes.
"You're gonna be filled up with nothing but my cum, Jinni-ya," he remarked, pressing his palm against her soft tummy.
Jinni simply stared at him, her mouth dry as she swallowed hard. Hanwol didn't require a response either way. He guided her down onto the couch, positioning her in front of the coffee table. Then, he bent her over the rectangular surface.
On the other side of the table sat a glass of milk he had served her earlier. Jinni's blank gaze glued on it, her indifference palpable. That was, until he spread her ass and spat right on her asshole. Her eyes widened as she glanced back at him.
"Wh-What the hell are you doing? Yah! You-You can fucking ruin my pussy, damn it! Don't you—Argh!!"
Hanwol stepped on her head, causing her hands to flail behind her in a desperate attempt to shield her untouched anus. That turned out to be a major mistake as he captured her wrists and bound them with his shirt he had hanging on his shoulder earlier.
With her hands tied, she was once again at his mercy as he gave her pussy a hard slap from behind. "Ahh! Fuck!" She gritted her teeth in pain, yet her legs trembled, and her juices leaked from her sore pussy.
"What the fuck? Did you just come from that? What a slut," he scoffed, delivering another solid smack to her pussy.
Her body shook even harder, her toes curling as more fluid dripped onto the floor. Biting her lip, she suppressed a moan. She wasn't about to give Hanwol the satisfaction he craved by admitting that her body was practically in overdrive because of all the sensation scratching under her skin.
Hanwol's mouth found her glistening skin, planting wet kisses on her shoulder and neck, while his hands reached around her belly, giving it a gentle massage.
"You are so fucking erotic right now," Hanwol murmured. "Would be a shame to let you go so soon..." His fingers traced light patterns across Jinni's waist, causing goosebumps to rise in their trail. "I should keep you like this. Completely naked, Choi Yunjin."
Jinni closed her eyes, trying to imagine she was anywhere else. With anyone else. But then, a warm, wet tongue licked up the side of her neck, and she reluctantly opened her eyes again.
The sensation felt strangely good. Unwanted, of course, but still pleasurable. She didn't want to get lost in the sensations and forget the nightmare—the fact that he was forcing himself on her. Hanwol's fingers trailed down her body, reaching the cleft of her ass, making Jinni tense up.
"This could have gone differently, Jinni-ya," Hanwol said, sounding almost wistful. It took a moment for Jinni to swallow the lump in her throat. "You could have just given in. Let loose and fuck like wild rabbits.”
She shook her head. "I used to care for you, Park Hanwol. I used to adore you. But not anymore... Go fuck yourself,” Jinni calmly cursed him, straining against her restraints, trying to free herself. A firm hand clamped onto the curve of Jinni's hip, and she tensed as his middle finger pressed down between her ass cheeks, pressing against the entrance of her anus.
"Please, don't. I'm begging you," she huffed, fear evident in her voice.
Hanwol loosened his grip a bit, but his finger stayed put, poking her asshole.
"Come on, please," Jinni pleaded again, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of her former manager's face over her shoulder.
Hanwol sneered at her, his grip digging into her hip like an eagle on a mouse, and a surge of panic shot through Jinni's chest before he violently shoved his finger up her ass.
The pain was unbearable. Jinni let out a shrill scream, feeling the dry, burning agony, and desperately tried to wiggle her hips away. But Hanwol had a tight grip, keeping his finger firmly lodged inside her.
Jinni slumped against the table, her head hanging down. Then, he twisted his finger inside her, making her insides clench and spasm in torment. It hurt like a bitch. Tears squeezed through her tightly shut eyelids.
Slowly, he pulled the finger out, making it feel like he was about to rip her guts out too. Jinni took a shaky breath, only to have it shoved back in with brutal force.
Something tore. Jinni felt it like a blazing inferno ripping through her, and she let out an anguished wail. She slammed harder against the table, all her muscles toned up, desperate for any escape that seemed impossible.
Meanwhile, Hanwol's other hand trailed up her spine, ending at the base of her skull, and he yanked her back against him. Full of excitement, he drove his finger deeper, like it was drilling through her freaking guts.
"Pull it out! It hurts!" she screamed, her tied hands twisting trying to reach out to her burning ass. "Please! Ahh!"
But Hanwol didn't give a shit. He kept curling his finger inside her until Jinni's vision blurred at the edges and the room started spinning like a damn tornado. She wished for the sweet relief of passing out. At least then, she wouldn't have to endure the humiliation and agony.
Closing her eyes, she tried to surrender to the darkness, but then Hanwol's thrusts eased up, finally stopping, and she grunted as he jerked his finger out of her and shoved her face down onto the table.
Hanwol freed her hands and instead used a shirt to cover her face. "Hmph!" It wasn't as suffocating as when he choked her, but she still had to inhale deeply through the fabric to get a breath of air, resulting in a constant huffing sound escaping her mouth.
As Hanwol's hands slid hotly along her hips again, Jinni tensed up. She could feel the pressure of the man's cock, and it seemed unbelievably larger than when she had taken it in her mouth. Hanwol had been big before, making her choke and struggle to accommodate his entire length.
Now, Jinni silently panicked, fearing that his cock wouldn't fit before he forcefully pushed it inside her. It was too much. Hanwol's cock was larger than his finger. Jinni screamed, her nails digging into the tabletop as she desperately searched for something, anything to escape, only to find more pain. Hanwol pressed deeper, thrusting his hips forcefully until he was completely buried inside Jinni's already abused hole.
Jinni tore around him, screaming, jerking, and clawing at the table as her weak body protested against the invasion.
The intoxicated man groaned behind her, his hands gripping and releasing Jinni's curvy hips. "Oh fuck—so tight!" he moaned in bliss. "You're squeezing my cock, Jinni-ya!"
He slowly pulled out, causing Jinni to hiss as her insides clung to the retreating girthy member. But Hanwol didn't leave her completely. He paused with the head of his cock still inside her and, with another groan, thrust back in.
Jinni grunted, squeezing her eyes shut. She wouldn't scream again. Hanwol could take what he wanted, do as he pleased, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her break yet her loud heaving continued without a second break.
More tears streamed down her face as Jinni pressed her forehead harder against the table. His thrusts were forceful and deep, pushing her stomach against the table. Jinni held onto that small pain—it provided a temporary escape, allowing her to focus on one thing instead of the other, although it didn't last long.
Hanwol leaned over her, sliding one hand into Jinni's hair, pulling her head up and back. "I will have you," he hissed in her ear. "Your body. Your pain. Your screams. And you'll accept it soon enough."
Jinni gagged as he suddenly impaled sharply, her eyes blinking open, seeing only white blurry vision. Her body had loosened, her constricting passage slick from his precum and her own fluids. Hanwol slowed down, penetrating her belly deeply until Jinni could feel the bulge inside pressing the table.
Shifting his hips, Hanwol changed the angle of his thrusts, and Jinni's mouth fell open. The pain began to fade, replaced by a burning, aching pleasure that she denied in her heart. She refused to give in. She wouldn't break. She wouldn't allow this to be anything more than what it was—a brutal violation of her body and mind.
"Never!" Jinni exclaimed, but her body had a mind of its own.
Her clit was throbbing, starting off slow but getting stronger with each scratching thrust from Hanwol. Her skin flushed, heat spreading through her chest, nipples fully standing, and her pussy leaking excessively. It was making her dizzy. Jinni's body was on fire, and she couldn't help but let out a moan between her deep breaths.
Hanwol chuckled, loosening his grip on Jinni's hair as his hand trailed down her arched back. He grabbed her ass, going harder and faster, fucking her with wild abandon. Jinni's head dropped forward, mouth hanging open, her spit soaking the cloth around her head, choking on the mix of pleasure and distress.
One of Hanwol's hands found her dripping pussy and began stroking her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You see, Jinni-ya," Hanwol groaned, giving her clit a wicked twist that made her stomach flutter. "You're a slut. Your body knows it, even if you deny it."
Jinni shook her head, denying it, even as her body burned with heat, desire, and pulsating bliss. Sweat clung to her skin, beading on her forehead and rolling down her back and chest. But with each passing moment, her denials grew weaker as Hanwol's actions intensified.
Hanwol pulled out of Jinni, gripping her shoulders and turning her towards the davenport. They slipped on the pool of her sticky juices on the marble floor, barely managing to stay upright before falling onto the cushions.
Quickly kneeling between her thighs, Hanwol guided his cock towards her puckered and twitching asshole. This time, as he entered Jinni, her ass welcomed him, making her feel full to her stomach. It stretched her virgin hole wider than she thought possible, almost as if it would tear from the sheer force. But Hanwol didn't hold back, pulling out and thrusting back in.
Jinni's breath caught in her throat as a new sensation shot through her like a lightning bolt. Her arousal ignited, and she squirted girl juice across Hanwol's chest, her legs quivering as he spread them to the sides and continued to pound into her, his cockhead slamming her guts from the inside.
Hanwol was going at it, pounding away with all his might, and the room echoed with the sound of slapping flesh and heavy breathing. Jinni couldn't help but moan, her body heating up and craving something she had never felt before.
"Come on, say it," Hanwol growled, thrusting so hard that Jinni felt like she was getting launched off the couch. She held onto her legs tightly, trying to keep up with the intensity. She was determined to keep her pride.
Jinni tried closing her eyes, hoping to escape the overwhelming sensations, but darkness only seemed to amplify every touch, every thrust, and every surge of heat that washed over her. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hanwol lost in his own lust, and it made her feel ashamed and disgusted with herself.
"Just say it!" Hanwol demanded again, his voice a mix of ecstasy and a dangerous growl. His hips moved with a ferocity that hit Jinni in all the right places, and she whimpered as her clit pulsated.
Her whole body felt like it was about to explode when she couldn't hold back anymore and screamed, muffled, "What do you want from me?! Ahh!"
Hanwol ripped off the shirt covering her face and kept thrusting. Finally, Jinni could breathe freely. He didn't care about anything else now, just fucking her relentlessly, over and over, until his rhythm became erratic and Jinni's eyes rolled back.
He was on the edge of climax. "Just say you're a slut!" Hanwol snarled.
His body tensed up as his orgasm ripped through him. He buried himself deep inside her, pressing his hips against her firmly, and Jinni bit her lip as she felt his hot load flooding her. It felt like he was shooting directly into her stomach, making her feel bloated.
Hanwol jerked and kept going until his orgasm subsided, and Jinni desperately hoped he would be done with her now. He slumped forward for a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his high faded into a satisfied glow.
Letting out a soft groan, Hanwol looked up and let go of Jinni's legs, reaching for her swollen clit instead. No words were needed; his gaze alone conveyed what he wanted as he gripped her pussy lips tightly.
She shook her head. "No…" she weakly said, her voice filled with emotion.
Hanwol's eyes flickered with irritation, and he gave her clit a sharp, painful twist. Jinni hissed but then followed it up with a precise stroke that sent waves of pleasure through her. He fingered her pussy, twisted his hand like a screw, and then pulled back until his thumb teased her entrance.
Tears welled up in Jinni's eyes, and all she could manage was a choked-off sob. She pressed her fist against her mouth, biting down on her finger. Hanwol twisted his hand around her crotch so forcefully that Jinni feared he might rip off her clit.
Jinni let out a cry, sounding like a wounded animal on the verge of giving up, and she slipped off the couch, landing on the cold floor. She huffed, clutching her stomach, feeling too weak to move any further. The tingling sensation all over her body just added to her discomfort.
Hanwol flopped onto the couch, running his fingers through his damp hair and letting out a huff. He kicked back, staring up at the ceiling and realizing that the living room had been dim for god knows how long. The day was almost over, slowly turning into dusk.
Out of the blue, a laugh burst out of him, followed by a scoff. "We're both a mess now. We're ruined, aren't we?" he mumbled, catching a whiff of the unmistakable scent of sex lingering in the air. Exhaustion was finally getting the best of him, and his tired eyes fluttered, gradually closing.
Everything was cluttered. His life, his house, his future— a huge chaos. Strangely enough, he didn't feel crushed by it all. He knew he'd deal with those problems when the time came in whatever way he could. Jinni too.
With his eyes shut, Hanwol's lips moved silently. "Jinni-ya, should I be your manager again after this?" No response came from the violated girl, and a breath later, he drifted off to sleep.
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zelphin124 · 5 months
Text
Killer x Y/N short story
One of the few short stories I will be writing. Requested by the wonderful @itsxroxannex as her honorable mention prize.
I do write commissions and short stories! Do you want a story? I can work with a small price (:
I'm using an image from Bing Image Creator to help the readers visualize where they are at and who they are talking to. It's for visual purposes only, and I do not claim it.
Enjoy the story!
~o0o~
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The light from the sun bouncing off the rock hallways started to fade as the moon rose. The dripping from the ceiling had stopped, and monsters and humans started filling the tavern. It was supposed to be very busy tonight.
The tavern was underground, just below the surface life. Dartboards hung across the walls on various barrels. Small candles were lit beside them, either hanging from the ceiling or resting on uniquely carved tables. Carpets were strung across the floor, filled with old designs and symbols that the humans didn't understand, and the monsters refused to explain.
The bar itself looked like any other bar, but the counters were carved into the rocks and the drinks were stored within the earth. The tables were made from woven branches, and the chairs were also made from scattered parts of trees that were no longer needed elsewhere.
You weren't much for drinking. You had only come to the bar to talk with your friend, Shiro. Shiro ran the place during slow hours. Now that the night rush was coming, his co-workers came in to help him run the shift. He wouldn't have much time to talk anymore.
You started to pack your computer, flinging your bag over your shoulder. Shiro had told you of the many tales and tragedies that happen during the night rush, and you didn't want to stick around to become one of them.
"Leaving so soon?" Shiro asked as he wiped the table where you just sat. His baggy white hair fell over his face, and he smiled softly.
"You know how I am with crowds," you responded, hoping he would get the hint.
He didn't. "Well, surely it shouldn't be that busy tonight-"
He was cut off as three skeletons walked down the entrance stairs. It was apparent that they were some sort of gang, as they all wore the same-colored jacket, pants, and shoes. Each of them stood proudly as everyone went silent.
The tallest one had a large hole in his head, and his left eye was huge. It glowed red and barely made any movement when he looked around. He hunched over and had a large ax on his back. He never stopped smiling, which left an unhinged feeling in everyone who saw it.
The shortest one wore a hood over his head. His eyes glowed red, and one of them had a purple and blue tint to it. Unlike his tall counterpart, he never smiled. He glared at everyone who even dared to look at him. Monster ash covered his clothes, sparking fear in all who noticed.
The third one seemed the most normal of the group. His smile was contagious, and his extroverted personality always drew attention to him. Big black stripes dripped from his void eyes down to his neck. His coat was fluffier than the rest, and his soul wasn't hidden. It hung in front of his chest like a big red target. He twirled a knife in his hand before resting it by his side.
The Murder Time Trio, you recalled. You recognized each of their faces from wanted posters across the town. Working under Nightmare, they worked to harvest negativity.
The Star Sanses - rulers of this AU amongst many others - wanted to bring them to justice, but with all of the Sanses abilities to travel alternate universes, they were hard to track down.
You couldn't buy into the fact there were other worlds than your own. The only reason you believed it was the evidence before you; multiple versions of the same person taking different paths.
Shiro glanced over as the tavern filled with noise and music again. He rolled his eyes, grabbing a notepad and pen before walking over to the table they sat at.
The dart games began. Multiple people threw darts across the room to the targets. According to Shiro, this was how all the drama started. Someone would think a shot was unfair, and a fight would break out.
Deciding it wasn't the best idea to stay any longer, you weave through the crowd of monsters and humans trying to get to the bar to drink. You glanced at the table where the trio sat as they talked with Shiro. You pray they don't do anything to your friend.
As you stood between the dart targets, waiting for the round to be over, you eavesdrop on Shiro's conversation. He seemed bored, surprisingly.
"I'll have a margarita," the striped face one said.
"A big beer, please," Horror lowered his head.
"Think you can handle one of those again, Horror?" The striped face asked.
Horror didn't answer him. He waved his hand in dismissal to Shiro as he looked at the menu.
"I see," Shiro scribbled down the orders on his paper. "And for you, Dust?"
"Nothing," the hooded skeleton replied. "Someone has to be sober when Killer isn't."
"Hey, I would do just fine," Killer smirked. "I don't see you..."
The conversation faded out of hearing as shouts echoed across the tavern. Glancing behind you, you see a human and a monster arguing about who hit the target first as they shot their darts at the same time. The shouts almost frightened you, and you didn't think before stepping forward. Your goal was to get away from the chaos before more violence broke out. Maybe you shouldn't have come here, maybe it was a bad idea after all.
A dart flew towards your face.
You didn't have time to react before you were pulled off your feet, resting in the mercy of someone's arms as he caught the dart. "Woah darling, careful there," he sighed, his head turning toward the people who threw it.
You realize the man, or the skeleton that saved your head was Killer. His grip was firm around your waist from when he had pulled you away from the weapon. He dropped the dart and continued to glare at the monster that had thrown it.
The people playing the particular dart game went dead silent, all pointing to the person who threw the dart. He didn't seem to care. "Oh, come on, she walked in front of it! It's not my fault!"
"Pay attention to your surroundings more, mm?" Killer smirked, tilting his head. He turned towards you before the others could reply. "You too, cutie," he smirked, poking your nose. "Gotta be careful in places like these~"
His grip on your waist loosened as you backed up. A blush painted your face as you stared up at him. As your blush increased, so did his smile, making you blush more. The blood rushed to your face as you tried to cover your cheeks with your favorite-colored scarf.
"Do you seriously have to flirt with everyone you see, Killer?" Dust snapped, opening a deck of cards and flushing them across the table.
"Look at them, they're pretty!" Killer replied. "I didn't want them to get scratched by a silly dart!"
"Then they shouldn't be in a place like this," Horror rolled his eyes, glancing at the deck of cards Dust had started dealing.
Instant guilt washed over you. You didn't mean to cause any trouble, and Shiro was nowhere in sight to defend you. You gesture to Killer, thanking him for saving you before telling him you'll leave to not cause any more trouble.
Killer looked you up and down, smiling as his eyes made their way back to your face. "What's your name, Hun?" He smirks slyly.
You tell him your name, scratching your head in the process. One of the most wanted men in the multiverse was talking to you. In fact, he smiled when he looked at you. How could this be?
"Y/N, what a beautiful name," Killer takes a step closer to you, extending his hand. "You plan to get on out of here? I can make sure you get home safely."
You open your mouth to accept the offer but hesitate. He, along with his friends, were mass killers. It was obvious by the dust and blood across their clothes. Was he going to kill you? You had no idea.
If he was, then why would he go out of his way to pull you away from an incoming dart?
"Killer, you play or not?" Horror asked, interrupting your thoughts.
"Not now," Killer didn't take his eyes off you. "I wish to walk this lovely human home."
"Oh, can I come?" Horror smirked, his hand reaching for his ax.
Dust slapped his hand. "Not that kind of walk home," Dust rolled his eyes. "Look at him! His soul his turning into a heart! Pathetic, really."
Dust wasn't lying. Killer's soul had taken the form of an upside-down heart momentarily. You tilt your head in curiosity, surely that was a good sign.
"Hey!" The monster that had thrown the dart earlier shouted. "You broke my dart with your disgusting fingers!"
Killer raised his eyebrows as he shrugged. "Oops."
"That dart cost me hundreds of G!" He growled. "You're gonna pay for that!"
You felt Killer's hands run along your shoulders. "Time to go~" he whispered behind you.
As the monster tumbled near, he suddenly faded from sight. Everything vaporized into stripes as the underground tavern disappeared and was quickly replaced with the cool breeze of the surface.
The moon glimmered in the sky next to the stars as it shined down on the slightly paved street. There were no streetlights, but you could see the village in the distance. Fireflies glittered the sky along with the stars. There were a few trees and a river to cross, and the bridge over the river linked the road.
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"Whew, that was close," Killer chuckled, letting go of you. He walked over to your side and smirked down at you. "Don't worry, he won't catch us now."
"Thank you," you sighed with a smile before walking toward the village.
Killer started to follow you. "Hey, I know we like, just met, right? This is a little crazy," he glanced down at the ground as he caught up to you. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he couldn't stop smiling. "But can I get your number?"
You widened your eyes, surprised. He really wanted your number after two minutes. Surely that couldn't be... This couldn't be happening, right? Wasn't that a red flag of some sort, and you, out of all people? You didn't see why someone as famous and as brave as him would pay attention-
You snapped back into reality, realizing that you had given him your phone, and he was already punching in his own number.
"Thanks, doll," Killer smiled to himself. "I didn't expect you to actually say yes. I'll fulfill my promise; let's get you home safely."
How the- you paused, unable to comprehend what just happened.
Despite the darkness and eerie noises surrounding you, you felt at peace. You couldn't help but wonder if that was because a skilled killer was by your side, ready to defend you if anything came your way. He made that clear with his actions at the tavern.
It didn't take long for Killer to start a conversation. He asked many questions and answered any questions you had. He often would laugh, smile, and tease you in such a way that made the butterflies in your stomach squirm. He was very charming, flirtatious, and unique. You couldn't recall if you met anyone like him.
And you liked that.
He was so different from everyone else that you had met, treated you well, and it was so easy to be yourself around him. He brought out a side of you that you thought died a long time ago. That side that made you feel... wild and free.
"Look look look," Killer begged, running off the path toward a lake. He picked up a rock and threw it across the water's surface. It must have skipped a hundred times before it plunged into the depths below. He picked up another one and did the same thing. "It's perfect water to skip the rocks on!"
You join his side and sit on a boulder nearby, watching him skip rocks as he continues to tell you about the first time won a card game, which you learned wasn't very often due to Dust having a special connection with cards.
"The look on his face when I won, hah! Priceless! Should've known better to have challenged me!"
You asked him if he had won the next two games after that.
"Uh, no, but that's not the point silly!" He smiled, heaving a great sigh as he looked up at the stars. He closed his eyes, letting the wind blow across his face as the ripples on the lake settled. The moon complimented his face and made him seem so peaceful and innocent. It highlighted his chest and showed the two small eyes that he had hidden within his skull.
You commented how he looks great in the moonlight. When he asked you how so, you got up and pointed out the various places the moonlight shined on him, and how it made him look so handsome.
"Tch, you're sweet," Killer snickered, brushing the hair out of your face. "But the moonlight on me is better on you."
Before you could recover from the sudden blush, he continued. "Have you ever skipped a stone across the water?"
As you shook your head, Killer frowned. He turned you around to face the lake and picked a stone up from the ground, admiring it in the moonlight. "Here, I'll teach you darling." He placed the stone in your hand and gestured that you try.
You tossed the rock into the water, it sunk in front of you.
"Heh, not like that." Killer came up from behind you and grabbed your wrists gently. "Here, let me guide you."
For the next thirty minutes, Killer moved your wrists in the correct motion. He gave tips on what to do with your fingers when you release the rock. You would have gotten it much sooner if you weren't so distracted by his sweet breath brushing against your cheek.
As you threw your hundredth stone, it skipped across the water more times than you can count. Joy filled your face, and your smile only increased when you heard Killer congratulate you.
"That was awesome!" He gleamed, running his hand along his skull. He quickly picked up a stone and skipped it across the water to catch up with yours. "Fast learner, eh?"
Before you could reply, Killer came up to you and embraced you. His hug was so snug, you felt safe in his arms. You wrap your arms around his back as the tension in your body flees. He was so warm, and he held you so tight... you didn't want to leave his arms.
Alas, it didn't last for long. Killer smiled and took your hand, guiding you up back to the path. "Alright, it's best I get you home, cutie," he smiled slyly. "The boys are probably wondering where I am."
You were closer to your home than you thought, to your dismay. Killer stood close to you, putting his hood over his skull to hide his face from the town as they turned down the street to your house. You almost had forgotten that he was a wanted killer with how enjoyable your time was with him. Surely, he wasn't all everyone said he was... he was so nice to you.
"Lovely house you have, I'll have to visit you sometime," Killer commented, smiling his usual charming smile as you approached the door. "Y/N, it was fun getting to know you, I'll call ya, alright? You're too pretty to say goodbye to, anyway."
You invited him to stay and watch a movie, but he declined.
"Nah, I'm sure Dust and Horror would be suspicious... besides, I cannot stay in the town for long unless I want Nightmare mad..." He took a few steps toward you until he was inches away from your face. He continued to smile as he took your hand. "However," he paused. He lifted your hand up to his face and kissed it gently. Once he met your eyes again, he smirked softly again. "I'm sure I could make an exception for you another night."
You didn't know how much more of his teasing you could take as your face turned red. You held your hand as if it was made of diamonds.
"Heh, you're so cute," Killer backed up into the street. "See ya later, Y/N."
You barely waved in time before he vanished from sight.
You couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the night. He treated you kindly, and his jokes were so funny... you longed for his company, despite his reputation. How long had it been since the tavern? A couple of hours? Were all monsters like this? Maybe there was a special thing about monsters where you grew attached quicker than another human. As if they understood the value of another living being and had a way to make another feel at ease around them. You tried to figure it out as you winded down for the night.
Maybe they were masters at this feeling that you felt: love.
Or maybe Killer was just special like that.
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fairestwriting · 2 months
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Hey, hello, would it be possible to request the first years with a crush or s/o who's constantly very warm so they can basically act as a human heating pad but despite this they're very touch starved and basically melt into hugs and cuddles, gender neutral pronouns would be great, thank you very much and merry (probably late) Christmas if you do this and same to you even if you don't!
another oldie (Visibly. im so sorry anon. i hope an awesome holiday season) i just had to take...... in the name of all my fellow human space heaters
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Ace Trappola
One day, his hands got cold, and you were nearby, neck fully exposed, and Ace did what he would obviously do in this situation. Except it turned out he was the one shocked by how warm you are, even though he did make you jump a bit.
He's a fan of the physical affection. He doesn't fluster easily and likes showing you off all smug, linking your arms together or putting his over your shoulder while you're with your friends. The warmth is a great bonus.
When you cuddle up in a hot day, he whines about how you're gonna cook him alive and will jokingly "attempt" to push you off while giggling, then turning on the AC of his room or dragging you both somewhere cooler.
Deuce Spade
The first time you hug, Deuce gets spooked because he thinks you have a fever. He fusses over you for a few good minutes before you can explain anything. Then gets embarrassed of his reaction.
Being Deuce, he'll randomly revisit this worry, but mostly he just eases into it rather easily. He's a little shy, whether you're in public or not, but you can tell he feels comfortable with the way he leans into you.
Feels so bad if you're holding hands and his gets sweaty. Apologizes a billion times while wiping it clean on his shirt. Nevermind that it'd happen even if you weren't so warm, he just doesn't want you to ever feel awkward when touching him.
Jack Howl
Also really warm because of his wolf beastman genes, also surprisingly touchy. It's hard to tell which one of you is warmer, actually? Which in the end just means you end up comfortably cuddled up very oftwn.
...whenever you're away from others, of course. It's not that Jack hates the thought of PDA, but he "prefers to take it slow" (Read: Makes him blush way too easy)
Commiserates in the summer and celebrates in the winter if you're not very tolerant to heat like him. Sometimes he talks about his family's trips to the north with a voice softer than usual, hinting just a little bit that he'd really love it if you came along one day.
Epel Felmier
He's also on the warmer side temperature wise, but he's small, so he ends up getting cold surprisingly easily.
At first he's a bit spooked with the touchyness, really just because it's his first relationship, but it grows on him. A lot.
Epel thinks him getting cold easy-ish is embarrassing, so he really feels like he won the lottery here. Now he gets to put his arm around your waist to stay warm and look cool with you by his side, boy's on top of the world.
Sebek Zigvolt
Runs very cold. The first time your hand is anywhere on him he jumps a bit. The situation's like the inverse of someone who gets startled by their friend's cold hands pressed to their neck.
He briefly questions if you're really human, stammering something about how only beastmen are so warm. He's too distracted by how nice your warmth feels to make much sense.
He's so easily flustered every time you get cuddly, but if he even tries to push you off (Which he mostly just does if you're in public) it comes out all feeble. Even if he's trying to keep up with etiquette and you two actually have to step away from each other, it's all over his face that he misses the coziness.
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