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#discord server summary
rainofthetwilight · 4 months
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my first art summary!! happy new year fellas 😎 this was such a ninjago brainrot year and I'm proud
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taxlthomas · 1 year
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so anyway I started posting the thing I’m actually hyperfixated on again
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draguuula · 1 year
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MYCHAEEELLLL <333 u have NO idea how glad i am that someone writes for mushroom oasis....literally want to cuddle him ♡ hes unbelievably adorable....
UR SO REAL FOR THAT 🔥🔥🤞 i can't resist writing for the little skrunkle, hes just irresistible frfr!!! i actually am currently writing another lil oneshot w him eheh...
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neatokeanosocks · 4 months
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I respect Rebel Moon's sole purpose of showing us funky sci fi settings. I just think The Croods did it better.
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daxite · 4 months
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it's that time of year again
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forecast-rain · 1 year
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sigh the only thing I want from marked for later on ao3 is the ability to filter it/sort it by fandom. That's all I want. It's probably the only reason I don't look through my marked for later lmao I have like... how many pages? 70? 100? *goes to check* it's 107. and it's like 20 fics per page.
...yeahhhh
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i completely forgot that general conference was this weekend and i think this is the first time i haven’t watched it at all, especially considering i have no plans to watch it later either
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cluuny · 3 months
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just found out people read my fics. fucked up
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annabelle--cane · 3 months
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"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"
yes! it did!
"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"
not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."
"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"
SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:
for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart
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it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.
here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms
here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.
here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.
once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:
the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.
chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.
klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.
EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.
an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.
an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.
the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.
EDIT II:
here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.
here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.
(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)
once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.
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zalayni · 10 months
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⁶ ₆ HER WAY 𓏲࣪ . 𓂃 🌷 OR THE HIGHWAY
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𖦹 pairing: earth42!miles morales x reader
𖦹 summary: if miles isn't doing prowler business, helping out at home, or hanging out at you then he's busy texting you instead. pt 2 of HER WAY click here for pt 3
𖦹 author's note: HIII I'm planning to make a discord server for atsv fans between the ages of 13-16 if you wanna apply click on this post :))
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.⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅..⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅. .⋅.
ıllıllı please do not steal, translate or repost my work on other apps.
art work in header made by koscribbls on instagram.
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months
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𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃
Choso
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Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader
Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️
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There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 
Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.
They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.
The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 
“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.
The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.
Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 
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You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.
“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 
“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 
You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.
From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 
“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”
“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 
The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 
“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”
“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”
“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”
“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”
He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”
“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 
“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.
“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.
“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.
“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.
Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 
“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 
The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 
“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 
“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.
Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 
He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 
You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 
His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.
“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.
Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 
“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.
You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 
You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 
Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.
“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”
“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 
His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 
His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 
“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.
“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 
“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 
He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”
“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.
“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.
You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.
You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”
It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.
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wintaerbaer · 5 months
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seven storms (jjk) (m)
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summary: As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genres: forbidden love, angst, a bit of fluff, also a bit of smut
word count: 9.0k
warnings: ambiguous time periods, oc’s mom passed away when she was a child, parental strain and turbulent relationships, it’s not explicitly stated but bang sihyuk is oc’s dad, find the ‘seven’ reference, BRIEF SMUT (in the form of missionary, cowgirl, and implied unprotected, which you should not do)
a/n: this one is for the obs discord server, who came up with this plot and then flattered me until i agreed to write it lol
MASTERLIST // Read on ao3
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It begins with a clap of thunder.
The dark clouds had rolled in quickly during your morning ride, the rain holding off on its looming descent even as the wind picks up and throws strands of hair across your face. You try to cling to every minute you have left before the downpour, savoring your alone time and the peaceful quiet of the morning. It may even be worth getting a little wet, you think as you watch the new stable hand effortlessly sling a bay of hale over his shoulder, for the chance to savor every moment of your daily ritual before the weather inevitably forces you back inside.
You love the simple pleasures of fresh air and the soft rustle of the grass.
Jungkook glances at you from afar as he continues his work, and even at this range, you can see his muscles shifting under the fabric of his shirt. It’s been roughly a month since your father hired him to tend the stable on your family’s estate, and while he hasn’t been unpleasant, giving you a friendly but silent nod each day as you prepare for your ride, he’s mostly kept his distance.
Today, however, is a different story entirely as a boom sounds out above your head. Your horse, a young stallion named Bam who is still being broken, startles at the noise and begins to nervously pace, tamping down the dirt under his hooves. The reins wrap tighter around your fingers as you attempt to take firmer control, but when a second crack emanates through the sky, the horse begins to buck in an attempt to throw you off.
The laws of physics cease to exist, time simultaneously speeding up and slowing down as you work to maintain your balance, clenching your muscles around the horse's back. A particularly violent whip of his head rips the reins free, and all you can do is try to flatten yourself to his back and hold on for dear life.
A pair of unfamiliar hands shoots into your peripheral vision, stroking firmly at the stallion's head and neck until he's easing back down, his erratic motions steadying until you can safely sit back up and face your rescuer.
"Are you alright?" His eyes scan your body for injury, moving from your face all the way down to your toes and back up.
You use the time to perform your own appraisal. The first thing you notice is that while he had immediately struck you as handsome when you first saw him around the property, he’s even more attractive up close: all soft eyes, perfect lips, and a tiny scar on his cheek that only adds to his allure. Add to that strong arms, broad shoulders, and a section of clearly-chiseled chest peeking out of his shirt, and you have to admit to yourself that you’re already halfway gone.
“Y/N?” His eyebrows dip as he frowns, clearly suspecting some kind of head injury as a result of your silence.
“You know my name.”
His expression turns quizzical at your bizarre answer. “I work for you. Of course I know your name.”
“You work for my father.”
“And you by extension.”
Your spine stiffens with rebellion. “I have no interest in bossing men around.”
“Why not?” He taps his knuckles on the saddle. “I see you come out to ride every morning. I could certainly tack up a horse for you in advance.”
“Because I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”
His perfect lips curl at the edges. “I don’t doubt that.”
Your heart stutters a rhythm behind your ribcage, voice muted by the appearance of a dimple that dips into his left cheek. It’s not often you find yourself speechless, and the sheer unfamiliarity of it has you on the brink of a flight response; you begin to gently guide your horse back towards the stable, Jungkook walking at your side. To your surprise, he doesn’t stay quiet.
“So how long have you been riding?”
You peek down at him, but he’s not looking at you as he scratches the stallion under his muzzle. “Since I was five,” you say. “My father arranged for private instruction after my mother died. Thought I could use the distraction.”
You figured he already knew about your mother’s passing due to her absence from the estate, and his unfazed expression seems to confirm as much. Still, in a gentle voice he says, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t make her sick.” Another low rumble echoes through the sky, but Jungkook is prepared, already smoothing his hand over the Bam’s neck again. “What about you? How long have you worked with horses?”
He chuckles, and your belly warms. “Since before I could walk. I grew up on a ranch. Have probably spent more time around horses than people—not that I’m complaining.” A shrug pulls his shirt tight across his bulging shoulders. “Animals are better company, in my opinion.”
“You say while striking up conversation with a stranger.”
Pink blooms on his cheeks, but, to his credit, he recovers quickly. “Beautiful women are the exception.”
Heat rises to your own face, and you choose to ignore his comment as much as it has butterflies taking off behind your bellybutton. “I understand what you mean though. That’s why I’m out here every day.”
“You like the outdoors?”
“Very much,” you say. “The smell of the wind, the feeling of the sunshine on my skin and the earth under my shoes. I like to ride down to the sunflower fields and watch how they turn themselves towards the light. There’s a strange sense of kinship there.” You’re not sure what drives you to share all this with a man you’ve just met, but the way he nods along as if he agrees sets your heart at ease. “And the horses are, in fact, good company.”
He laughs again, tipping his head back to look at you. His dark hair brushes his forehead, jaw cutting so sharp a line that the temptation immediately hits to trace it with either your fingers or lips—you’re not sure which. You don’t even care if you’ll bleed.
It strikes you at that moment that you’re in a world of trouble.
The skies open up, the rain instantly pouring down in fat drops as you briskly rush your horse the rest of the way into the stable, Jungkook hot on your heels. You dismount once you’re inside and begin to untack the stallion, moving the reins up and over so you can remove the bridle first. Jungkook quickly steps in to help unhitch the saddle, and while you’d normally be inclined to make a fuss about how you can handle your own gear, you find that you much enjoy his quiet companionship. You like watching the way his gentle hands artfully work to simultaneously manage the equipment and relax the horse, giving the sense that he’s offering assistance only because he loves his work and not to patronize you as a woman (you’ve seen one too many men try to step in because they believe you to be incompetent).
Once Bam has been settled into his stall, you turn back to your companion and are met with big brown eyes already gazing at you, hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Thank you for your help today,” you say. “I may be an experienced rider, but that also means I know enough to understand that you likely saved me from an injury earlier. So thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He looks suddenly subdued, nervous now without the horse as a buffer. “And if I may be forward, I hope I made a good first impression. I wouldn’t want a beautiful woman like yourself to think I overstepped.”
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned beautiful women now. You speak with them a lot?”
“Not recently,” he says, dimple making another appearance. “Only one.” His voice drops a decibel, flirtation giving way to sincerity. “But truly, I do just like to help. I am sure you are perfectly capable, but just because we can do something doesn’t mean we always need to do it alone. If I can help ease a burden, then I would like to do so.”
Warmth floods through you like the rain currently running off the roof, and before you can even think about it any further, you find yourself nodding. “Very well.”
The smile he gives you brightens your day more than a hundred miles of sunflower fields ever could.
“I won’t keep you then.” He begins walking backwards towards the troughs where most of the horses have currently congregated. “But I do very much look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
You do, too. And when you show up to the stable the next morning (and the next, and the next), you already have a horse saddled up for you, a single sunflower resting on the seat.
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Raindrops clatter in endless sheets off the metal roof of the stable, the ringing sound blending with the blasts of thunder and lightning overhead to mask your groans as Jungkook steadily thrusts into you.
It’s been three months since your flirtation culminated in you asking him to join you for a ride one morning.
Three months since he accompanied you down to the sunflower fields, pulled you into their depths, and kissed you like his life depended on it.
Three months since the rain became your closest friend, providing you the cover you need for your more intimate moments—such as this evening when you’d arrived at the stables to find him laying down a fresh layer of straw, the flex of his arm insisting that you needed him now.
The patter of the rain ensures his moans are for your ears and your ears alone.
“Do you think the horses mind?” he mumbles into the sensitive skin of your neck as he presses even deeper into you and steals your breath, his hands cupping your ass as he grinds his hips.
“I doubt it,” you gasp, digging your nails into his back. “They’ve kept secrets for me before.”
He laughs, and you relish in the feel of the vibration of his chest pressed to yours, as if the sound is being passed directly from his lungs to your heart. “Am I your secret then?”
“My favorite secret.”
He pulls back to look at you then with wide eyes. You don’t know when it happened, when he became the absolute center of your universe, but you also know that you’ve never been this happy in your life, never felt as whole as you do with him. So you stare at him right back, absorb every angle of his face as he brushes the hair away from your eyes and kisses you with an unusual delicacy in comparison to the rough pace of his hips.
“I love you.”
It’s not the first time he’s said it, but your blood heats as if the words are brand new.
He rises up above you then, leans back so he can bend your knees to your chest and pound into you in earnest, and you’d swear the roof has disappeared and you can see every star in the sky. Galaxies swirl, planets align, and it’s not long before you’re falling over the edge and he’s following you with a deep groan—a harmony to the thunder that surrounds you.
The two of you collapse into a heap, and he pulls you into his side, your cheek pressed to his still-heaving chest. It’s serene, the consonance of his breathing alongside the tapping of the rain and the occasional snuffle from the horses.
“So, the horses are keeping secrets for you, huh?” It’s a quiet question, vulnerable as he gazes at you with tender devotion. The same stars you saw minutes ago twirl in his eyes. “Can I be told one?”
“Are you a horse?”
A breath of a laugh: “Well you’ve certainly ridden me before.”
He has a point there.
You hum to yourself as you think before asking, “What is your dream?”
“What does that have to do with—“
“Answer mine, and I’ll answer yours.”
Calloused fingers trace patterns on your hip, a faraway look taking over his expression as he envisions some distant future. “To own my own farm,” he says. “I want to be my own boss. No more having to serve others.” A smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “And I’d be able to provide for my family—have a few kids and teach them the ropes, just like my dad did with me.”
Your brow dips in confusion. “You won’t inherit your father’s farm?”
“No, it’ll go to my older brother.” He squeezes your hip on a sigh. “If I want my own farm, it’s up to me to earn it.”
“You’ll do it,” you say, and you believe it with every fiber of your heart. “I know you will. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met.”
It’s not a lie by any stretch. You’ve spent plenty an afternoon telling your father that you’re going to read out on the veranda as it gives you an inconspicuous way to watch Jungkook work. He’s diligent, tireless, and you’ve often used the need to bring him water as an excuse to go down and spend time with him, seeing the sweat drip off his forehead as he single-handedly trains and cares for the horses.
His eyes become glassy, a gruff clearing of his throat as he pushes the tears back and grazes his lips over yours in a gentle kiss instead. “Thank you.” But before you can deepen the kiss and distract him, he shifts ever so slightly away, a glint in his eye. “Now you.”
You puff a sigh into his chest—bold of you to think you’d be able to sneak one past such an observant stare. Still, your secrets don’t usually come forth easily, buried deep within the cavity of your ribcage so even you don’t have to dwell on them too long.
Something about those doe eyes, though, render you ever vulnerable.
“Mine is similar to yours. I want to be my own boss.”
His brows pull together. “No one would expect a lady like you to work.”
“Not for a job, for my life,” you say, irritation forcing the words from your lips now. “I don’t want my father to dictate the path my life takes. I want to choose it, whatever it is, for myself. To be in charge of my own fate.”
Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, teeth dipping into his lower lip as he considers your words. It’s something else you’ve grown to love about him, the way he stops and thinks before he reacts. So unlike your father who has always been nothing but big emotions and snap judgments.
“What would you choose?” is the question he eventually comes out with, and the pads of his fingers trace the jut of your hipbone like he’s memorizing it.
Well that’s another matter entirely. “I don’t know. Just not what my father wants for me.”
“And what would that be?”
“To marry one of the rich dandies in town,” you blurt, and his hands still. “That’s always been the expectation that’s been set since I was a girl—that my family would arrange a suitable match for me.” You’re practically spitting now, anger simmering through you. “Suitable, of course, meaning wealthy.”
“Is that so bad?” He asks it quietly, insecurity poorly masked in the way his voice trembles ever so slightly. “Some people would do almost anything to be in your position.”
You scoff. “There’s more to life than money.”
“Like what?”
“Fresh air, sunshine, the smell of the morning dew.” You tap his chest with everything you list off, as if they’re all housed within the framework of his torso. “The sound of the rain bouncing off windows, the bright yellow of sunflowers after their first bloom, watching a foal get its legs under it for the first time. Love.” You press your hand to his heart with that one, feeling the strong beat of it under your palm. “That’s the greatest thing.”
He snags your fingers, bringing them to his lips and kissing each one in succession before his hand slips into your hair so he can join his mouth with yours. The kiss is slow, thorough, his tongue trailing along your lower lip with determination as he drags you across his body until you’re straddling him.
“You’re right about that,” he murmurs before gripping your waist tightly so he can push back into you, the rain pouring on and on.
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“No!”
Your father stands up so suddenly that his chair topples over with a crash, Jungkook sitting across from him wearing a look of even-keeled surprise; his eyes widen a fraction, but his overall posture remains resolved and confident.
“You dare have the audacity to even ask—“ He chokes on his words, spit flying from the edges of his lips, before pointing a finger towards where you stand stunned in the corner. “And you! You’ve been fraternizing with this riffraff? After everything I’ve taught you? Everything I did to raise you? You go and choose to associate with this—this—“ You’re worried his eyes might fall out of his head with the way they bulge as he grasps for a word, vein in his neck visibly thumping as he finds it. “Lowlife!”
“You’re wrong!” you scream as Jungkook continues to sit quietly at the dinner table. You’ll be damned if you’d just stand by and allow him to be spoken about in that way. “He’s an incredible man. He works hard, he’s respectful, and he loves me, Father. Not because of my money, but because I’m me.” Your steps echo off of the tall, looming arches of the ceiling as you move closer to Jungkook. “And I love him.”
“No, no, absolutely not. You’re only twenty years old. You don’t even know what love is,” your father barks before turning his beady eyes on Jungkook again. “You’ll never marry my daughter. You do not have my permission nor my blessing. That’s final.”
“Father—“
“You’re also fired,” he spits. “You can say goodbye and that’s the end of it. I want you off my property.” Then he’s storming out of the dining room, leaving you and Jungkook in heavy silence.
It’s only a handful of seconds before Jungkook is rising to his feet and striding from the room and out the front door, you hot on his heels. The steady drizzle soaks your clothes in a matter of moments, but you don’t even feel the way they cling to your skin, focused solely on the man in front of you.
“Jungkook!” you call, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn to face you until you manage to grab ahold of his hand and tug.
You thought he’d be distressed, angry, perhaps even crying. Instead, you’re met with intensity, a fierce determination simmering under the warm brown of his irises as his gaze bores into yours and almost has you faltering.
“Jungkook, I…” You wring your hands in front of you, watch the rain run in rivulets off the ends of his hair. “We can make it through this. I can convince him—“
“You can’t.”
You huff in frustration. “Then we’ll run away together! I’ll come with you and we’ll—“
“No, Y/N.” He stills the frantic movements of your hands with his own, drawing you towards the warmth of his body until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. “I have no savings right now, no way to support the two of us. We’d be out on the street in a matter of days.” He shakes his head, brushes a kiss to your knuckles. “No. You need to stay here for now. But this isn’t the end of us, I swear to you. I am going to work myself to the bone—until I have nothing left to give. Until I can buy my own farm, my own house, and give you everything you need.” Your foreheads press together, drops of water clinging to his lips and drawing your eye as he speaks. “I will provide for you someday, love you to the best of my ability. Just give me time.”
The heavens open above you, the relentless downpour backed by the cacophony of the skies as you finally move to kiss him. He tastes of rainwater and sweat, the fragrant aroma of sunflowers and nights spent tangled together in the stables. You savor the feel of his lips against yours, commit to memory the way his tongue begs for entrance, the way you grant it with a groan that feels like both a prayer and a curse.
With a final, resounding crack, he’s pulling away as you cling to the rough skin of his fingertips until the very last fraction of a second, arms stretched to their absolute limit. And when he turns his back on you, shirt plastered to his skin, you’d swear you can hear the horses raging in the stable, the rumble of hooves and agitated whinnies ringing in your ears long after he’s disappeared from view.
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The first letter comes on a Wednesday roughly six week later, written on carefully folded parchment paper in small, neat handwriting. It surprises you, coming from a man who spends all day tending horses and tossing around hay bales. You receive the letter from the carrier quietly, rushing it up to your room and waiting to read until the concealment of night has fallen and you’re confident your father has gone to bed.
My Love,
I must admit that I am not quite sure how long it has been since I last saw you. Perhaps only a handful of weeks, surely, but every hour, minute, and second has felt like an eternity. I miss you, sweetheart. I miss the sound of your laugh. I miss the way you’d look each morning, strolling down from the house with a bounce in your step and the early sunshine bouncing off of your hair. Or perhaps you are just that radiant. I would believe it, you know, that light emits from your very smile, and I know I feel warmer whenever I am around you.
Look at me; look at the man you've turned me into. I've always considered myself a simple being, glad to indulge in the dirt and physical labors of the outdoors, and yet you have me waxing poetic like one of the men in those romance novels you would always pretend to read on the veranda. (Yes, my dear, I noticed. Your stares are not so subtle.) I am lovesick, homesick, and it’s all because of you. Because my life truly began the day I looked up and saw Bam struggling with you on his back and just knew I had to help you (tell that dear beast that I miss him by the way).
Now, I must live my life forlorn, but not without purpose. Please know that I am doing everything in my power to get back to you, and I will not rest until I am holding you in my arms again. I have secured a job at a ranch several towns over; it’s good work with decent pay, and every cent that does not go towards the barest necessities is being saved for us. One day, my love. One day we will have a house and a farm, and I will be able to love you openly, with no need for secrets or the cover of rain.
In the meantime, just know how terribly I miss you, and though we are separated by distance, I hold you in my heart each day. On my way each morning from my lodgings to the ranch, I pass by a field of sunflowers. I know it cannot possibly be true, but it feels like every golden face turns towards me as I go, and darling, I’d swear I see you in every one.
One day, my love.
Until then, always yours,
J.K.
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It becomes something of a ritual: while you used to spend your days out on the veranda pretending to read so that you could watch Jungkook from afar, you now settle on the front porch with a book each afternoon in the hopes of catching the local mail carrier. Jungkook’s letters come slowly but consistently every couple of weeks, and each time a letter does arrive, you spend the night drafting your own by candlelight to send back to him.
He tells you about his new job, how he’s working on a larger farm now with several other laborers. The veterans are kind to him and teaching him a lot, he says, and it eases the ache in your heart a fraction to know that he seems happy where he is and well taken care of. You write back about your favorite books that you’ve been reading and how the horses have been (you insist that you can tell Bam misses Jungkook too). But both of your letters are saturated with sentiments of love and how dearly you miss each other, reminding yourselves that every day that passes is one day closer to you two being reunited, whenever that may be.
Your father, meanwhile, proceeds as if Jungkook never existed, hiring a new stable hand who begins his work mere days after Jungkook has left. This man is middle aged, gray already streaking through his hair, and you can’t help but feel it’s a deliberate choice on your father’s part lest you fall for another lowly laborer. And though you know it is not his fault, you barely speak with the man outside of a few curt pleasantries when you go for your ride each morning.
You persist in your morning rides out of habit, but you find that they don’t bring you the same kind of joy that they used to. The grass isn’t quite as green, the air is often stifling, and the sunflowers droop where they used to stand tall against the blue skies. On one day, roughly six months after Jungkook’s firing, you’re once again forced back inside early due to rain, the storm dampening your already dreary mood. It takes a turn for the worst when you hear your father call your name the moment you step in the door and plummets entirely off a cliff when you trudge into the dining room to see a man sitting at the table.
Seokjin is not entirely unfamiliar to you—your families run in the same circles after all—but he is ultimately little more than a stranger, the two of you having only exchanged a handful of polite words at dinner parties and the like. All that you truly know of him is that he is the heir to the wealthiest trading company on this side of the country and that his father is expected to transition the entire operation to him over the next few years.
Even so, Seokjin greets you with a sense of intimate familiarity, standing at your approach and brushing his lips against the back of your hand before you can stop him.
“A pleasure to see you, Y/N, as always.”
You know that social etiquette requires you to return the sentiment, but instead, you find yourself looking between Seokjin and your father, trying to figure out his purpose here.
“What is going on?”
Your father grimaces at your rudeness but opts to ignore it. “Seokjin has come here with a rather exciting opportunity, Y/N, if you would take a seat and listen to him.”
However, you remain standing, spine stiff and wary eyes shifting to the man in front of you with his finely tailored clothes and perfectly combed hair. He, for what it’s worth, doesn’t cower under your stony gaze, maintaining an air of utmost confidence as he states, “Y/N, I would like for you to marry me.”
“No.”
Your answer is immediate and blunt, coming so quickly that Seokjin barely reacts—only the tiniest dip of his mouth as if he doesn’t believe he heard you correctly. But your father leaps to his feet, face red with shock and frustration.
“Y/N, you sit down and listen to the man.”
“I don’t need to listen,” you snap. “My answer is no.”
Seokjin registers your words then, face morphing into a deep frown of disbelief as your father hurries to intervene, grabbing you around the arm to pull you out of the dining room and turning on you the moment you are out of earshot.
“Insolent girl! That man will soon be one of the most powerful in the country—nay, the world! Do you understand the opportunity he is offering you? The life he is offering? How dare you refuse him!”
“Whatever life he is offering is one I want no part of,” you argue, pulling your arm from his grasp to wrap them across your chest. “I have no interest in being married to a man like that. I want to be with someone who loves me.”
He goes deathly still for a moment, drawing connections in his head until you see the moment the realization hits him. “This is about that lousy stable boy, isn’t it?”
You say nothing, only hug yourself tighter and try to swallow down the sudden lump in your throat.
“That’s it, yes? You’re still holding onto some hope that he will come back for you and what? The two of you will go off and live in some hovel? What could he possibly offer you?” he snarls. “No, Y/N. That vermin is gone. You have a chance—a real chance—at a future here, and I’ll be damned if I let you throw it away for the idea of some lower class scum.”
As his words sink in, a chill passes through your body that’s quickly replaced with a white-hot anger, your hands dropping to your sides as you straighten your back in defiance.
“Whether Jungkook returns or not,” you assert, “please be assured that I will never, ever, marry one of your suitors. I will die before I become a mere pawn for your business deals.”
Your father stares at you incredulously, eyes practically bursting from his head. “Business deals? I am looking out for you. So that you can live the luxurious life a child of mine deserves.”
“The life I deserve is the one which I want,” you exclaim. “And these rich dullards are not it.”
Final word given, you spin on your heel in emphasis and march off to your room, leaving your father to clumsily patch things up in the dining hall with a humbled and deeply befuddled Seokjin.
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The letters stop two years in.
A month passes, then two, then three before you begin to really worry. Another four gone in a blink before you start to consider that you may never actually hear from him again.
For a while, you continue to write to him, thinking that at the very least, if he’s moved to a new job, someone from his old ranch may forward them along if they know where he’s gone to. But after a year of silence transpires, the mail carrier shaking his head at you each day as you rush to meet him outside your house, true dread sets in.
Your address hasn’t changed, which means that he’s stopped writing to you for some reason. Is it possible that he’s moved on? Met another woman perhaps and chosen to settle down? Or…could it be something worse? Your mind hesitates to even go down this path, the terror seeping into your bones, but the thought creeps in late at night when you’re at your most vulnerable that something may have happened to him. Work accidents, illness—any number of dangerous things could have taken him from you without you even knowing. Then again, he sounded healthy in his final letter to you, no word at all of him being ill, and you’d like to think he would’ve arranged for someone to contact you if some tragedy had befallen him.
You conclude, then, that he must have given up. And really, after years of hoping for a shift, for some change in fortune for your futures, you cannot entirely blame him. If anything, you just wish you had seen the signs sooner, sensed some kind of shift in tone that would have prepared you for his sudden silence. His last letter, though, had been much of the same—more updates on his ranching job mixed in with poetic phrases about his love for you. You read it endlessly, poring over the words for some indication that his feelings for you had waned, sitting huddled in a hidden corner of the stables as rain pounds down against the tin roof. Instead, it just makes your heart ache to remind you of love found and lost, his final words haunting you as time continues to drag on to your dismay.
As the months tick by, you keep your promise to your father, steadfastly refusing each suitor that comes to call for you: Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, and even Min Yoongi, who shows up in your dining room every evening for a fortnight before finally accepting your refusal. Meanwhile, you move through your days as if by design, going through the motions without feeling like you’re actually alive. Food is tasteless, your books void of thought, and the skies have certainly lost their color. You find that you actually prefer rainy days now, often taking walks through the drizzle and allowing the droplets of water to slide over your skin and caress you as he once did. Sometimes, it almost makes you feel as if he’s there beside you—memories of thunder and slick kisses enveloping your thoughts and soaking you from the inside out.
No fewer than seven years pass this way, with you haunting the premises of your home while your father begins to complain about you becoming a leech and a burden. You begin to question it yourself, wondering if it may be too much to waste away like this, when, three days after your twenty-seventh birthday, a discovery has you running from your father’s house and never looking back.
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It’s another dreary, rainy day, and you, wanting to soak in the full effect of the emblematic weather as it pertains to your mood, have once again parked yourself on the front porch with a book. Your father passed you on his way out earlier, casting a scathing look that you didn’t even bother to grant any attention—you’ve long grown accustomed to his contempt and futile glares.
A little past midday, you glance up at the sound of a person approaching, their footsteps ricocheting off the front steps. Park Jimin comes to a halt under the porch’s cover, gazing at you curiously as if wondering why you are outside in this weather at all. However, if he finds your behavior strange, he doesn’t say anything, a choice which comes of no surprise to you. One of your father’s youngest business partners, you’ve always liked Jimin during the times that you’ve interacted with him. He’s quiet, polite, and has never made an attempt at courting you, always respecting the boundaries that many other young men have tried to cross over the years.
That being said, you’re inclined to at least offer him a greeting, acknowledging his presence with a mannered, “Hello, Mr. Park.”
“Good day,” he responds with a small bow in your direction. “Is your father at home?”
“No, he had to attend a business meeting with Mr. Kim this morning.” You frown as his face falls, a touch of panic widening his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
A delicate finger rises to rub at his temple. “Ah, I’m supposed to be finalizing a contract with Hybe Trading Company later this afternoon,” he says. “Your father told me to come pick up the documents beforehand.”
“He may be back soon,” you guess. Your father didn’t give an indication of exactly when he would return, but you do know his meeting with Kim Taehyung wasn’t supposed to last all day.
“I may not be able to take that risk.” He chews at his lip, thinking. “Is it possible that he left the contracts for me somewhere? Might you be able to check?”
Your jaw drops a fraction at his request—you could count on one hand the number of times that you’ve been in your father’s office. “I don’t think—“
“Please, Y/N,” Jimin begs. “We can’t afford to lose this partnership.”
The desperation in his expression has you acquiescing, and so you lead him inside and tell him to wait in the entryway as you head to your father’s office on the second floor.
The room is arguably the grandest in the house, with magnificent windows that give a full view of the estate’s grounds and tall bookshelves packed with your father’s collection of texts. The finest rugs protect the hardwood under your feet, and at the center of the room sits a monstrous yet beautiful mahogany desk with a plush chair at its back.
You move to the desk first, skimming the documents scattered on top for something that has the trading company’s name on it. But all you see are invoices, shipping records, and maps of different trading routes marked with your father’s notes, and lightly shuffling through the papers comes up fruitless as well.
The first desk drawer you open contains a series of highly-organized ledgers, so you quickly move on to the second, which has the same. The third drawer reveals a reserve of desk and writing supplies, while the fourth, finally, contains a mess of paper.
You rummage through the clutter, still not finding anything that seems to be the contract Jimin is looking for, and are about to give up when a stack of letters buried at the back of the compartment has you freezing, the small, neat handwriting chilling you to the bone.
Pulling the stack out with shaking hands, you quickly realize that there are a few dozen, all postmarked no more than two months apart between each one. Collapsing backwards into the desk chair, you read frantically, quickly realizing just how wrong you were about Jungkook giving up on you:
My Dearest, it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you, but I pray your letters were simply lost in transit…
I’m incredibly pleased to let you know that I’ve received a promotion. The owner of the farm, Mr. Lee, has taken a liking to me and has shifted me to a more considerable role with additional pay. I’m saving every bit I can…
My Love, I miss you deeply. And while your silence pains me to no end, I hope it is a mere misunderstanding. If you do not wish to hear from me ever again, only say the word and I will stop writing to you and remove myself from your life entirely, albeit with a heavy heart…
I still have some ways to go, but my savings are increasing exponentially, and I am learning more than ever. Mr. Lee has been teaching me about the business side of things and helping me make connections. What a wonder to have a boss who fully supports your aspirations! He insists he will be able to help me in my endeavors, and call me naive, but I believe it to be true. Rest assured, love, that I am steadfastly working hard for you, for us, and for our future…
My Darling Y/N, my heart aches to not read your words and hear your thoughts. But since you have not yet rejected me outright, I can only assume that your silence is involuntary or that it comes with deep hesitation. Whatever the reason, please know that I love you, I miss you, and I am not giving up on us unless you tell me so…
And finally, the shortest letter dated almost year back:
Y/N,
I don’t have the words to describe my feelings so I will keep it brief: I did it. If this letter finds its way to you and you wish to find me, I eagerly await you at our home…
The location is scribbled in a tangle of text, his usually neat writing askew as if he was shaking when he wrote it, and the words land with the force of a thousand bricks in your chest—the weight of seven years apart, the agony of your separation, finally culminating in this revelation.
The door to the office bangs open, and you look up, heart already racing with the discovery of the letters, to see your father looming in the doorway, face painted with rage.
“What in the hell are you doing in my private office?!”
You’re on your feet in an instant, storming across the room and shaking the final letter in his face. “What is this?!”
He pales a fraction as he registers what you’re holding before stepping further into the room and slamming the door shut. “I should have burned them,” he sneers. “I did what I did to protect you.”
“From what?” You wave your arms wildly, anger and adrenaline winding their way through your limbs. “From happiness? From a man who has spent years working hard to be able to provide for me?”
“I have worked hard to provide for you! And I will not see my legacy be thrown aside for some silly crush!”
Steeling yourself, you pull in a steadying breath for courage. “Then you won’t.”
“And what does that mean?” your father scoffs, trying to look dismissive and intimidating, yet seeming smaller than you’ve ever seen him.
“You won’t see any of it. I’m leaving.”
“What?”
Time stops for a moment, your declaration holding the air in the room hostage as your father fully absorbs your words.
“You ungrateful idiot girl!” your father suddenly exclaims. “After everything I’ve done for you? Fine then! Go live with the dogs, with the filth and slime you apparently love so dearly. I have had it with your thanklessness and impertinence and will be relieved to have you from my sight.” He steps into your personal space, pointing a finger directly at your face so close that you can feel the heat of his ire radiating off of his hand. “But know this: the second you step out of these doors, you will never be welcomed back. Never.”
You waste only two seconds longer, locked in a stubborn stare-down with your father before you rip your gaze away and tear from the room with Jungkook’s letters still in hand. Rushing to your room, you gather his other letters from your desk and stuff them into a bag along with the modest sum of money you had accumulated in case you ever needed to run.
And then you’re a bird in flight, sweeping down the stairs and out the door with nothing but a simple, “Good day, Mr. Park,” as you pass an absolutely bewildered Jimin in the front hall.
The rain is cold and heavy as it soaks through your clothes and hair almost immediately, but you barely feel it—the freedom in your heart and the scribbled location in your bag more than enough to keep you warm as you charge towards home.
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The house is beautiful.
Modest, compared to the mansion you grew up in, sure. But arguably more beautiful—with a compact two stories, white wood, and neatly painted green shutters. There’s a wrap-around porch overlooking the acres upon acres of farmland, and even through the rain falling in sheets and blurring your vision, you spy two rocking chairs sitting side-by-side under the awning.
It’s been a long two weeks of journeying to get to this spot, relying on the kindness of strangers to help you navigate to the location Jungkook had written down. Now, standing at the end of the dirt path leading up to what is presumably your new home, you think that you would do it all again in a heartbeat. The past two weeks, the past seven years, all worth it to experience the hope currently blooming in your chest like the sunflowers you spent so much time admiring in the past.
You’re trudging up the path, the dirt and mud smearing along your shoes, when a darkened figure steps out from the fields to your right, hand raised in greeting.
“Good afternoon, miss. Are you lost? I—” He grinds to a halt like he’s walked straight into a brick wall, eyes wide and lips parted as he absorbs the sight of you soaked and disheveled on his property.
“Y/N?” he says it like a prayer, like he believes you’re some kind of hallucination—a phantom come to haunt him through the haze of rainy memories.
You stare at each other through the downpour, and you find yourself studying him, observing the changes that have taken place in the time you’ve been apart. He’s taller and broader than you remember, shoulders stretching wide and drawing your gaze down towards biceps that protrude below his drenched shirt. The lines of his face have sharpened with age—losing some of the youthful roundness that had endeared him to you so quickly—but he’s still starry-eyed as ever, the charming young man from your memories undoubtedly gazing back at you.
“Jungkook,” you murmur, and the spell is suddenly broken. You surge towards each other, meeting in the middle with a flash of lightning. Your arms go around his shoulders, and Jungkook pulls you into him so desperately and with so much force that he lifts you right off your feet, your mouths coming together with a heated urgency.
He’s everything you’ve dreamed of, every desperate memory you’ve been clinging to come back to life. And with every touch, every pass of his hands over your body, you feel yourself rapidly coming back to life too—joy making its way into your lungs and through your bloodstream for the first time since you were twenty years old and kissing this man in your family’s stables.
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips when you finally part. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“You have no idea–”
“I do. Jungkook, I do.”
“You stopped writing—”
“My father,” you rush to say. “He intercepted the letters. I thought you stopped writing. Thought you gave up—”
“Oh, my love, never.” His hands rise to cradle your face. “I never stopped thinking of you. Never stopped dreaming of this.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, savoring every movement of his lips against yours.
You shudder against his chest, the thrill of your reunion rattling your nerves just as a cool wind blows through, and Jungkook pulls back with worry.
“You must be freezing,” he murmurs sweetly. “Come. Let’s get you warmed up inside.”
With an arm wrapped around your waist, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep a hand on you, he guides you the rest of the way to the house, up the front porch steps, and through the front door.
“Welcome home,” Jungkook says.
You’re met first with the smell of pine and cinnamon and an impossibly comforting warmth. The first floor is comprised of a wide-open space, with a small kitchen and dining room to your left and a sitting room to your right that has tall windows and a fireplace that is currently roaring. You move around the room slowly, taking it all in, and when you notice the vase of bright sunflowers sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, you just about melt to the floor.
“I know it’s smaller than you’re used to,” he sheepishly mumbles from the doorway. “But we can expand in the future—”
“It’s perfect, Jungkook.” And it really is, every panel and floorboard evidence of how hard he’s worked, how fiercely your love has endured. “It’s absolutely perfect. I love every bit of it.”
He brightens at that, smile stretching wide. “I’m glad.”
“How did you find it?”
“Well, I bought the property after finally saving enough money. Mr. Lee helped me with the buying process.” He shrugs. “And then I built this.”
You freeze, absolutely stunned. “You what?”
“I built it,” he says simply. “I had some help, of course. But the design is all mine.”
“I…you…” It makes your thoughts spin—the idea that he did all of this. He built a house for you.
“Here, look.” He takes your hand and pulls you into the living room, gesturing at a set of empty shelves against the back wall. “For your books.”
You laugh incredulously, fully overwhelmed at this point. “I didn’t bring any with me.”
“Then we’ll start you a new collection,” he says softly, drawing you towards him.
You reach up to trace his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones—memorizing every line of this beautiful man who dared to make your dreams a reality. “I can’t believe this. Can’t believe you. The things you’ve done.”
“All for you, my love.”
Your heart thumps a steady rhythm in your throat, love and the relief of finally—finally—having him in front of you overpowering your senses until all that exists is you and him; the strain of your former life feels worlds away.
Hands find his chest in a slow migration downwards as the chill of the rain gives way to the heat of the fireplace, and it’s not long before his large hands are wrapping around your hips, a darkness in his irises that wasn’t there a second ago.
“There’s an upstairs, too, I’m assuming?” you whisper, fingers teasing a button on his shirt.
“There is.” He swallows, and you watch the bob of his Adam’s apple like a lure. “Would you like to see it?”
You lean in, skimming your mouth below his without fully joining your lips. “Please.”
Tangling your fingers in his, he practically runs upstairs with you trailing in his wake.
Finally, you think, as he pulls your clothes from your body, climbs over you on the bed, and presses into you with such tender deliberation that you think you’ll combust.
Finally, as you spend the rest of the night wrapped up together, endlessly whispering I love yous back and forth.
Finally, as you wake up in his arms the next day, his face the first thing you see.
Finally, as he pulls out a small box at breakfast, the dainty diamond ring easily the most precious piece of jewelry you’ve ever possessed.
Finally, as he takes you out on the farm and shows you the small field of sunflowers he planted just for you.
Finally, you think, as you sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch and watch him work from afar. I’m home.
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Years Later…
“Mama! Mama look!”
You glance up from your book to where Jungkook and Haneul are currently journeying in the yard. It’s a bright sunny day—the wide expanse of blue sky above unmarred by even a single cloud. Sunshine beams down onto your son’s smiling face where he sits on the back of one of the horses, a too-big cowboy hat on his head and his father at his side for support.
“You’re doing great, sweetheart!” you call. “Just be sure to listen to Papa!”
Jungkook flashes you a grin, the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He’s been talking about teaching Haneul to ride since the day he was born, so you know this means a great deal to him, especially seeing your son’s own energy and enthusiasm. Haneul has always liked the “horsies,” toddling happily around the stables ever since he could walk.
Then again, given who his parents are, that wasn’t much of a surprise.
Jungkook and Haneul finish their loop around the yard, and you hear your husband shower the boy with praise as he lifts him off of the horse’s back.
“Again, again!” Haneul cheers, bouncing in place and causing Jungkook to laugh.
“We will! Just let me check on your mother first.”
He moves comfortably, leisurely as he climbs the porch steps and comes to a rest in front of where you sit. Looming over you, he leans in until he can press a gentle kiss to your lips, reverent in his motions.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. His fingers brush lightly over your belly and its new curve.
“I’m alright,” you say, guiding his hand until his palm is resting flat. “This one is kicking up a storm though.”
As if on cue, you feel a tiny jolt—Jungkook giving a breathless chuckle as he feels the jab himself.
“Go easy on your mother,” he says in the direction of your stomach, rubbing a soft circle into your flesh. “No storms. Clear skies and sunshine.” Then his eyes are back on your face. “Speaking of, I have something for you.”
He reaches behind his back and produces a single sunflower, tucking it behind your ear before giving you one more kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.” More than the day you met him. More than the day he left. And more than the day you finally made your way here.
“Now I should get back to Haneul before he starts yelling for me.”
You laugh out the brightest sound that’s ever come from your lungs. “Go.”
A warm breeze ripples through the trees, the sound of your son’s giggles and Jungkook’s cheerful exclamations finding their way back to where you sit.
What a beautiful day, you think, setting down your book and getting up to join your family in the golden sunshine.
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a/n: thanks for reading! pls don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!
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2K notes · View notes
succubusmunson · 6 months
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Breaking In
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Summary: What would you do if a masked man broke into your house?
WC: 4.3K
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), CNC, used he/him/his a lot since eddie is “mysterious”, mask kink, knife kink, blood kink, pain kink, slight humiliation kink, dacryphillia, reader having arms tied, a lot of hair pulling, degradation, teasing, oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), choking, face fucking, gagging, cum play??, name calling, pet names, spanking (use of belt), slapping (face, tits), spit as lube, unprotected p in v sex, p in a, orgasm denial
an: huge shoutout to @corrodedcorpses, @bimbobaggins69, @trashmouth-richie, and all the discord servers for the help with this fic! truly don’t think i could’ve gotten it done without any of yall <3
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You felt him press against your backside as he trapped you between his hard body and the wall. "P-please… I’ll do anything."
He darkly chuckles as the mask presses against you, his breathing amplified. "Anything? It’s like you read my mind.” The cold blade of a knife trailed up your thigh, a gasp leaving your lips, stopping right at the edge of your shamefully soaked panties. “I love a girl who gives up so easily."
His cock tightened in his pants even more at how vulnerable you were already being for him. He was going to have so much fun playing with you, he knows you’ll beg for him. 
“I-,“ you choke on your words as you feel his hard cock throb between your ass cheeks. He was pressed so tightly against you that you could feel every part of him, and you couldn’t deny the need that ran through your veins. 
The masked man had busted through your front door minutes ago, chasing you throughout your house before cornering you. It all happened so quickly that it took a moment to process things. 
You immediately pleaded with him, begging him to take what he wanted and go. But what he wanted was you. 
He had tied your hands behind your back as he ghosted his calloused fingers over your body. And his voice, he had whispered so many things to you in such little time. He had many plans for you.
“What was that?” He slammed your head against the wall hard enough that you winced. “You’ve gotta have some words in that pretty little head of yours. I haven’t fucked you dumb… yet.”
You shivered as chills ran down your spine, and goosebumps covered your arms. “Just- please don’t hurt me.” 
“Hurt you?” He rested his masked cheek against yours, inhaling your sweet scent. “There’s always fun in a little pain,” the blade dug into your skin enough to cut you a little, causing you to whine. “I bet your cunt is throbbing.”
It’s a shame that he was right. Feeling the pain of it all did make your cunt throb in such a blissful way. Your face was heating up in embarrassment.
In one swift motion, you were turned around and pushed to your knees, now eye level with the growing tent in the man’s pants. “Well, it’s not gonna suck itself.” 
You gulped as he palmed himself. The heat radiated off his body, you could feel it engulf you. You could tell that he was big when he was pressed up against you, but seeing it more up close, you weren’t sure how it was going to fit. 
Hands grabbed your hair from the roots and angled your head back. You couldn’t see the man’s face, but you somehow knew that his eyes were dark with lust. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can make it fit nice and perfect in your mouth.”
The man pulled your head so it rested against his upper thigh, his cock throbbing under the confines of his pants. You licked over his clothed cock, where the wet spot was forming from all the leaking precum. Your lips closed as much as it could around what you assumed was the tip, suckling on it.
A groan reverberated from his chest, and his head fell back as you took him by surprise. The warmth of your mouth over his hard cock had him bucking his hips. “You’re a desperate slut, aren’t you?”
He reached down and undid his zipper, pulling out his cock and slapping it against your cheek. “Let’s see you try and take the whole thing in your mouth.”
You whimper as the precum dribbled from the slit and over his knuckles as he pumped his cock. It made your mouth water with an urgent type of neediness.
“I don’t have the fucking patience for waiting.” He guided his cock to your lips, smearing precum over them. “Now, open that pretty mouth so I can fuck it.”
Without even a second thought, you obediently opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue. Once, twice, he tapped it against your wet muscle before sliding it fully in, resting at the back of your throat. He was right about having no patience.
“Jesus- c’mon, you can do it.”
His cock hit the back of your throat with each thrust of his hips. The mask did little to conceal his loud groans as you swallowed around him. “Knew I had to fuck this mouth as soon as I saw you. Ah shit- knew you’d be such a good girl and take it too.”
Tears began to fall down your cheeks as he held your head still, his cock sliding in and out of the back of your throat that you barely had time to breathe. You could feel your lungs burn with the need for oxygen. 
He gnawed at the inside of his cheek the further you took him into your mouth. In all honesty, he could blow his load right now, but he had to hold it at bay to make this night last.
You tried to rip out of the restraints he had your arms in, but the rope he brought was too strong. It kept you in a docile, just how he wanted you to be for him. 
“Awe, are you crying?” He swiped a few tears away as he pushed his cock further down. It was so far down your throat that your nose was in the thick patch of hair at the base of it, and his balls pressed wetly against your chin. “It’s a good thing I like criers then, isn’t it?”
He pulled you off his cock, strings of saliva connecting the two of you. “Do you like having your face fucked?” 
You looked up at him with big doe eyes, makeup smeared along with your tears, and your lips swollen from being used. No words found their way out of your open mouth. 
Slap! A ringed hand came in contact with your cheek, a pathetic, high pitched moan to escape your throat. “Oh, fuck,” He laughed at you as your face heated up in embarrassment. “You really do like pain. What a dirty fucking whore. Now answer the question.”
“Yes…” Your voice was meek, quiet. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are. 
He pushed your head further down and ran the velvety skin of his heavy sack across your lips. “Be a good slut and suck my balls, yeah?”
Your tongue rolled against them, massaging them before suckling on them. You couldn’t help but to moan at the feeling of them.
Above you, the man grabbed his cock, stroking in slow pumps and smearing some of the precum across your forehead. “Should I make a mess on your face? Paint you a pretty little picture.” 
His balls fell from your mouth as you went to shake your head, but a slap left your face stinging in pain mixed with pleasure. 
A whine left the back of your throat, causing him to chuckle at how much of a pain slut you really are. That’s information he’d use later. 
“Did I tell you to stop? Put them back in your mouth.” 
You let out a huff, pouting out your lips. “And if I don’t want to?” 
Another slap, and he was yanking your head back to his cock, waiting for you to get back to sucking, moaning the second your tongue licked at the leaky slit. 
You couldn’t not obey him, not when his cock was throbbing hard in front of your face, the tip red and angry. 
“See? It’s not that hard to be a good, useful slut for me. I bet you like this too, huh? Being used like a stupid toy.”
Your cunt throbbed between your legs, silently begging for some attention. How could you be enjoying this? This man broke in, was claiming your body as his to use, but your body wanted it- craved it even. God, you were disgusting.
“Wrap your lips around it,” he guided your head up and down his cock, the vein on the underside gliding easily across your tongue. 
“Tell me you love having my cock in your mouth. Fucking. Tell. Me.” He enunciated each word with his cock thrusting down your throat.
You tried, as much as you could, to talk around his cock. It caused more drool to drip from your mouth, down your chin, and across the peaks of your tits that spilled over the top of your dress.
“Can’t talk?” He ran a thumb over one of your hollowed cheeks, feeling his cock rest in your mouth. “Is your mouth too full? Too busy getting me off?” He was mocking your struggles, fake sympathy lacing his voice.
He held your head still, thrusting quickly into the back of your throat. The loud, wet gawk, gawk, gawk sounds of your gagging echoed off the walls. As embarrassing as the sound was, it made your cunt become more slick, your panties becoming more wet the more you heard yourself taking every inch of his cock.
A string of curse words slipped past his lips as your throat constricted around his massive cock. He swore he could’ve cum from that sight alone, the days leftover makeup running down your face, lips swollen and red, eyes glassy from all the tears you had been crying. You were the most perfect site he had ever seen. 
Between you swallowing around his cock and the warmth of your mouth, the man standing became closer and closer to cumming. And you could tell it by the twitch of his cock and see it in his stomach muscles tightening under his shirt. “Y-you better- fuck yes- swallow my cum.”
One hard thrust and a loud groan later and his body was shaking, cum shooting onto your tongue. Some of it dribbled out of the sides of your mouth, making you more of a mess. 
“My fucking god! You taste that? You taste what your mouth did?” He pulled his cock out, his cum and your spit stringing from it. “Show me your tongue.”
Instead of obeying this time, you spit all the cum that didn’t shoot down your throat, right onto the toe of his black boot. You made sure to look at the eye holes of the mask as you did it.
You yelped in pain as he pulled your head back, but you still had a proud smirk on your face. “Oops?” 
“Oops?” He voiced boomed, and he pushed your head down until your face was mere inches from his boot, his cum shining from the moonlight that peeked through your curtains. “Lick it up.”
You hesitated, barely sticking your tongue out. 
He lifted his foot, the toe of the boot now pressed to your lips. “Did I fucking stutter? Lick up my fucking cum.” 
The roughness of his voice has goosebumps forming over your skin. You were scared and horny, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
You slowly licked up the mess you made, making a show of it. The salty taste lingered on your tongue until you finally swallowed, showing him that you finally did, in fact swallow.
“It’s not as funny when you have to lick my boot like some sort of pup, is it?” He pulled you to your feet and dragged you over to the couch, throwing you face down. “But it will be funny for me when you’re begging to cum on my cock, and I don’t let you.”
Your panties were pulled to the side, and your ass cheeks were spread apart as he looked at both holes that were displayed for him, deciding which one to use first. 
He breathlessly sighed as his thumbs pulled your pussy lips apart, slick stringing between them. His tongue wet his lips, a hunger for your taste growing inside him. 
He slowly dragged his thumb up and down your slit, collecting your slick, and caught your clit with the pad of his finger. You were dripping, and his eyes couldn’t leave where you clenched around nothing, a silent plea to be filled with whatever he was willing to give you. 
“You didn’t want this in the beginning, and now look,” his finger dipped in your cunt for a second, getting it nice and covered before pulling it out. He brought it to his mouth and loudly sucked on it, pulling it out with a soft pop! “You’re making a mess for it.”
The whines that fell from your mouth were loud. You wanted to speak, beg him to give you more, but all the words came out jumbled together. Your mind was already foggy from all the teasing. “I- yes- need it!” You could barely form a small sentence.
“God, you’re fucking gross for this.” He trails his gloved finger over your cunt and up to your puckered ass as he slowly rubs over the rim, “can’t wait to feel both of these holes as they squeeze my cock.” 
You heard the jingle of his belt as he pulled it through his belt loops. The hairs on your body stood up in anticipation for what was to come next. Suddenly, your mouth was dry as you tried to beg him. 
In one swift motion, his leather belt came down hard on your ass. Spank! “Tell me.” Spank! “Tell me that’s what you wanted.” Spank! “Tell me that you’re nothing but a filthy slut who likes to be fucked by a masked stranger.”
You cried out, heat rising to your skin.
Each spank, no matter how painful, made your clit throb harder. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as gloved hands rubbed over the tender, almost raw skin of your ass, soothing you. 
“I-I’m a filthy slut…,” your tongue rolled from your mouth and over your lips, trying to make your voice not so shaky. 
“And?” He waited for you to continue, his palm roughly rubbing over the welts forming from the belting.
“Who likes to be fucked by a masked stranger- oh my god.”
Two fingers quickly sunk into the wet heat of your cunt, down to the knuckles. They expertly pumped in and out at a slow pace, but it was enough to have you whimper into a pillow. “You’re making such a mess on my gloves, tsk, tsk.”
You let out a breathless sigh as he slid in two more fingers, scissoring you open. “Fuuuck.”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He felt you clench around his fingers and quickly pulled them out. “Oh no, no. I can’t give in that easily, can I?”
You tried to turn your head around to look at him, but he forced your face down. “Keep your head forward, got it?” 
He lifted up his mask just enough for his mouth to be free, kissing over the globe over your marked up ass. You rocked your hips back and forth, his lips comforting the sting that was still there. 
You could hear him inhale deeply. The sweet smell of your arousal had his cock twitching and leaking. He’s never smelled something so enticing. 
“Needy little thing.” He mumbled against your skin as his lips ghosted over your puckered ass. 
His tongue licked over it, the two of you moaning in unison. He moaned from the taste, and you moaned at the feeling of the feather-like touches. 
“More,” you pushed your ass closer to his face. “Pretty please.” 
He finally gave in, diving into your ass like it was his last meal. His tongue licked over your hole, getting it nice and wet before sliding it inside you. You clenched around his tongue, moaning loudly as he pumped it in and out. 
“Holy shit-,” your legs shook as his tongue opened you up more. 
He pulled back, a glob of spit fell onto the small gape that his tongue left. His thumb slides in with ease, another finger sliding in right behind it. “Look at that,” he pumped them slowly, his eyes never leaving the filled hole. “You like your ass being played with?” 
You nodded your head repeatedly, moans leaving your open mouth. “I- I love it!”
He kept his fingers deep inside your ass, his lips coming down to wrap around your throbbing, sensitive clit. His groans vibrated against you, your back arching. 
Sweat covered your body as he added a third finger to your ass, stretching your hole wide open so it could fit his thick cock. 
His tongue swirled around your clit before licking up to your entrance, teasing it before slowly sliding it in. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your back arching. You felt so full, and his cock wasn’t even inside you yet. 
“Taste so damn good,” he spit on your cunt, rubbing it in with his fingers. “Just like fucking honey.”
“T-thank you.” You yelped when you felt his sharp teeth nibble on your clit. The pain makes you mumble out words and moan pathetically.
“My little pain slut.” For another time tonight, you felt the blade against your skin. This time the knife dug deeper than before. 
You cried out in pleasure and pain as he carved his initials into your ass cheek, something to silently say that he owned you. He took his time, making sure that you felt every slide of the knife, the way it cut into you. 
Blood trickled from your new branding, sliding down your ass. The droplets didn’t get far, though. The man’s tongue was right behind it, licking up all that had spilled. 
Knowing that he was tasting you, your blood made the coil in your stomach almost snap. 
You were so close to cumming, you just needed a little more. “Please let me cum!” You grind against his fingers, the coil in your stomach tightening quickly. “Please, please, please!”
And just as you were about to finally cum, he pulled away, leaving both your cunt and ass empty. 
He pulled the mask down before turning your head to face him. “I said no cumming, remember?” 
You whined loudly, your fingernails making crescent shaped moons into the palms of your hands as you squeezed them. This was torture. Your body craved an orgasm so bad that your cunt was started to ache, but before you could protest, you felt the cold blade against your skin again. 
Gently, he slid the slightly bloodied knife under the waistband of your panties, quickly cutting through the fabric and ripping them from your body. 
“These are mine now.” You watched as he stuck the soaked panties into his back pocket, a little souvenir from tonight.
“Now,” he grabbed his cock and ran it through your sticky folds. “I’m gonna fuck you until you’re screaming so loud that maybe the neighbors get scared and call the cops.”
In a blink of an eye, his hips pressed against yours, and his cock was nestled deep inside your cunt. 
“Jesus- fuck!” His hands squeezed your hips, your cunt already squeezing him perfectly. “Such a tight and warm cunt. I should’ve done this a lot sooner.”
Your face fell into the couch cushions as your body adjusted to the size. He filled you to the hilt, balls squished against your clit. “O-oh, you feel so good.” 
He raked up your back, stopping at the base stopping of your skull to pull hard so your back arched. “I wanna hear you moan as you take every. fucking. inch.” He made sure to thrust with every word, his cock grazing your g-spot. It felt like the air was being punched from your lungs. 
“Yes, sir!” You moaned as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, feeling every vein, every ridge as your cunt clenched tightly around him. “Y-yes sir!”
He looked down where you two were connected, his cock already covered in arousal. “I’ve barely even fucked you, and you’re already creamin’ on my dick.” He snapped his hips, jolting your body. “Dirty girl.”
Your mouth fell open as moans spilled from your throat. Each thrust, each groan, was making you fuck back against him. “Don’t hold back.” You turned your head, resting on the arm of the couch to look at the masked man. “I-I can take it.” 
“Yeah?” He untied your arms and laughed as your sore muscles fell to your sides. His arms wrapped around your throat and pulled your body to him, your back now against his chest. “Can you take it?” 
An animalistic growl traveled from his chest as you reached below you, your hands grabbing and lightly massaging his balls as he pumped his cock into you. 
Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes locking with holes of the mask. “I know I can.”
He pushed your body flush against the couch again and fucked you like you’ve never been fucked before. 
Your body jiggled, legs shook, and eyes squeezed shut. You felt high, like your body was full of euphoria, almost on the edge of delirium from how delicious his cock was sliding in and out of your cunt. 
Lewd squelching sounds echoed off the walls, fueling him to fuck you harder, faster. It was to the point that you could barely moan anymore, only silent scream. 
“You hear that?” He pulled all the way out and slammed back in, watching your cunt suck him in. “Hear that pretty pussy make those sounds for me?”
Fingers are quickly hooked in your mouth, opening wide open. Whines, moans, whimpers; all came from your mouth and mixed with the sounds of you being fucked. You still couldn’t catch your breath. 
Drool dripped from your mouth as you tried to speak, trying to beg him more to let you cum. He knew what you were saying, though and could feel how badly you needed an orgasm in the squeeze of your cunt. 
“No, no.” He pulled out with a huff, fingers also leaving your mouth. His breathing was labored, sweat beading on his forehead under the mask.
You were on the verge of tears from how badly you needed to cum. He wasn’t being fair.
“You poor thing.” The head of his cock teased your clit, chuckling as you reached back and tried to pull him closer to you. “Maybe next time I break into your house, I’ll let you cum.”
“Give it to me now,” you sniffled. 
“Awe, that’s cute.” He rubbed up and down your back, stopping at your hips to grab them. “Now, turn the fuck over.” 
You gasped as he flipped you over with ease, showing no signs of a struggle.
“I wanna see you fall apart for me as I stuff your ass full of my cock.” He grabs your legs from behind your knees, pushing your thighs towards your chest.
This new position has your ass up enough for your hole to be on display for him to take. You held onto the back of your legs so he could spit on your puckered hole, rubbing it with his thick fingers. 
You looked down and watched him toy with you, take his time to make sure you were well lubed up. He was enjoying it, too, knowing that he was teasing you more and more. 
“You’re a fucking creep.” Your head fell back against the couch when you felt the tip of his throbbing cock barely slide inside your tight ass. It was enough to have you already panting. “Oh!”
“Say that again, baby.” Slowly, he pushed his cock inside you, inch by inch until he was bottomed out. Your ass was so full of his cock that you couldn’t move, could barely breathe. “Jesus- it’s getting me off.”
The first thrust had you seeing stars behind your eyes, feeling him stretch you wide open made your toes curl. “R-right there, yes!”
He used the grip he had on your legs as leverage, pumping in and out of you slowly until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Barely fucked your ass, and you’re already whining like a pathetic slut.” He sped up with each word, the couch scraping against the hardwood floors below it.
Groans, whines, and skin slapping against skin quickly filled the room as the two of you etched closer and closer to cumming. Your legs shook in his hand as you brought your own down to rub over your cunt, thumb catching on the bundle of nerves that had your breath hitching.
“Hold it.” He let go of your legs, giving you time to wrap them around his waist. “Fucking. Hold. It.” Each word came with a sharp slap to your tits, the pleasurable pain coursing through your body and finding home in your used, dripping cunt.
“I- I can’t-“ 
“You can!” His grunts became louder, thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close to cumming. You only hoped he would finally let you cum.
“That’s it- keep taking it just like that, baby.” One, two, three thrusts later and he was quickly pulling out, spilling all his cum on your pretty pink cunt. “G-god dammit!” 
His cock twitched as he pumped it, making sure every drop landed on you. “That’s fucking it, all covered in my cum.”
Your cunt clenched as you felt his cum drip down your cunt and onto the couch below you, making a mess. “But I- I didn’t get to…” 
“Told you it would be funny.” He sadistically chuckled as he quickly stuffed himself back into his jeans. 
“You're an ass.” You sat up on your elbows, your body spent from all the fucking and teasing. 
“Don’t worry,” he patted your cheek in a mocking manner before making his way to your busted front door. “I’ll be back.”
You were left shocked, cunt so sensitive from the need to cum. 
It wasn’t until minutes later when the phone ringing pulled you from your daze. You stumbled as you went to grab it, your breath coming out in short pants. “Hello.” 
“So,” Eddie spoke on the other line, a smirk so obvious in his tone. “How did I do, sweetheart?”
2K notes · View notes
melobin · 4 months
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જ⁀➴ mirror 𐙚 sungchan
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warnings - smut, dom!sungchan, mirror sex, strength kink, size kink, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, praise, dacryphilia, manhandling, choking, big dick!sungchan
wc - 3k
summary - you and sungchan stay in a hotel for the night where there’s a continently placed mirror above the bed.
a/n - a conversation with my love @neosvcr occurred and now this is here! very sorry to my friends over at the discord server …..
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
“i’ve never seen a mirror above a bed before” sungchan looked over at you as he emerged from the bathroom, a plain white towel wrapped low around his hips. if you weren’t so distracted by the mirror you would’ve been drooling over him.
“really?”
“mhm” your eyes travelled from the ceiling to your boyfriend, shamelessly flicking straight to his abs. there were still a few droplets of water slowly sliding down them, you let your mouth water at the sight of him “what is it even used for? it’s not very practical” sungchan laughed at your question.
“are you checking me out?” you could only hum in response as you watched him pick up a different towel and bring it to his hair, drying as much of it as he could. his biceps flexed as he done it, toned arms being on full show for you to enjoy “what do you think they use it for, love?” you simply hummed again, too distracted on watching him to answer. he looked up at you and smiled “perv”.
“it’s not my fault” he threw the towel he used for his hair onto the chair in the room and walked over to the bed, sitting next to where you were perched up against the headboard. he brought his hand to your face, brushing your hair out of it before cupping your jaw. he took note of the way your thighs clenched together the closer he got to you.
“then whos fault is it?” his hand fell from your jaw to your bare thigh, mentally thanking you for putting on one of his shirts. it both drowned you and exposed you all at the same time, the shirt being baggy over your skin but the sleeve falling down your right arm exposing your shoulder to him. his shirts always rode up your thighs, especially when you were sat down. it gave him easy access to the parts of you he loved teasing the most.
“yours? why would it be mine? i’m not the one in the gym everyday just because my best friend beat me in an arm wrestle once” sungchan narrowed his eyes at you.
“well he hasn’t beat me since has he? none of them have”
“i know, it’s hot” you placed your hand on his shoulder and let it slide down his arm, stopping on his muscle to dig your fingers into it lightly “you know i love how strong you are, channie” 
“of course i do baby” he leaned forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the exposed skin of your shoulder, hand moving up and squeezing your thigh “my sweet girl” his kisses slowly trailed from your shoulder to your neck, fingers inching toward your panties. “so little and fragile” he pressed the pads of them against your clothed clit, slowly rubbing his fingers up and down the material as he sucked on the skin just below your ear “could break you if i wanted to”.
you whimpered at what he was doing, sungchan always knew how to push your buttons and work you up. he studied your body intense, learning all the ways to make you tick and always used them against you immediately after. he claimed working you up was just a way to make things feel even better for you, but you knew he just enjoyed teasing you. he could be so evil sometimes. 
“why don’t i show you why people have mirrors above their bed, hm? promise ill fuck you real good” he put more pressure against your clit, he was practically moaning his words into your ear. it done nothing to dull the throb he was creating between your legs. 
“please” you whimpered, he pulled away from your neck to look at you. pushing your panties aside with his fingers to feel your soaked cunt directly, he practically hissed when he felt how wet you were. he circled your clit whilst he leaned in to kiss you, lips moulding perfectly against yours. tongue slotting into your mouth when your lips parted to let out a moan. the kiss carried on for a short while before he was pulling away. 
“you’re so wet, did you get that worked up from watching me?” your fingers fell from his biceps to his wrist, wrapping around it as his fingers sped up. your hips bucked slightly against his hand, small whines leaving your lips. 
“you’re just so pretty, channie, can’t help it” your words are broken and slurred, you were a wreck already but to him you were the cutest thing. he found it even cuter when you whined as he pulled his fingers off of you. instead they climbed up your body, under the shirt you were wearing in order to pull it over your head, every part of him adored the fact you lacked clothing underneath. bare tits on display for him. 
“lay down for me, baby” you followed his instructions, laying down properly on the bed, letting your head fall against the pillow before looking at him. he stood up and let his towel fall to the floor, his cock was already hard, it struggled to hold itself up with how heavy it was. precum leaking down the sides, coating his bulging veins. just the sight of sungchan’s cock made you whine, countless memories of how he’d use it to drive you to the bring of insanity with sharp, deep thrusts clouded your mind. you could never get enough of him. 
you expected him to kneel up between your legs and slide his cock into you, but he didn’t. instead he moved to lay down between your legs, hands grabbing the top of your inner thighs inorder to spread your legs further apart. he littered small, open mouthed kisses along the skin of your inner thigh before looking up at you to meet your eyes. his fingers hooked over the waist band of your panties, he pulled them down your legs and let them fall to the floor, almost moaning when he felt how soaked they were. he was quick to return back to his former position
“mmm” he hummed for a moment, digging his fingers a little deeper into your thighs “don’t watch me, just lay back and look into the mirror” you met your own eyes in the mirror above you, your reflection looking back at you. the position let you see sungchan too, or well the back of him. still, your boyfriends back was one of the hottest things about him, especially after you had raked your nails down it as he fucked you. there was excitement lacing through your veins at the idea of being able to see the way his back flexed through the mirror as he fucked you. 
the feeling of his tongue against your cunt brought you out of the daze you were entering, sungchan never held back when he ate you out and you knew he wasn’t going to tonight. his tongue flicked against your swollen clit teasingly, he almost whined as the taste of you filled his mouth. you were always so sweet, always melted delciously on his tongue, it was one of the reasons he always called you his sweet girl. he meant it literally.
sungchan dragged his tongue down your slit, pushing it inside you just to collect more of your slick on your tongue before licking back up to your clit and swirling it around it. he loved making you as wet as possible, nothing was hotter to him than making a complete mess of you. and he always did, especially when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it until you felt light headed. he placed a hand against your lower stomach to keep you in place whilst he done it.
it was then that your hands went to his hair, he was quick to grab one of them with his free hand and lace your fingers together, squeezing your hand as he continued sucking on your clit, tongue flicking over it. the sight in the reflection seemed filthy. it felt weird watching yourself be ravaged by your boyfriend, but it was hot. something about it felt so intimate and sensual. just the image of you sweating a little, one hand in his and the other in his hair and your body squirming as much as it could under his grip was surreal. you were starting to understand why people enjoyed using mirrors so much.
you felt his hand leave your stomach, moments later he had two fingers pressing into you, your cunt welcoming them eagerly. with how already drenched you were, his fingers slid inside of you easily. he thrust them into you slowly to begin with, that was until he was finger fucking you with his lips wrapped around your clit. fingers curling inside of you, being long enough to press perfectly against the spongy spot that laid deep within your walls. you were a mess, the intensity of the please had your head spinning, you could barely keep your eyes open to focus on the reflection above you.
you were falling apart, your sanity drifting away as you grew closer to spilling onto his tongue. he knew it too. he could tell by the way your moans grew louder, how you pulled a little harder on his hair and how you squeezed his hand impossibly hard to the point it almost hurt him. he loved it though, adored the fact he was pushing you into such a state of ecstasy that you could barely control your actions.
once you were cumming around his fingers you were lost, your eyes shut themselves as you were pushed over the edge. his tongue flicking non stop against your clit, fingers curling resulting in an embarrassingly loud squelching sound to echo throughout the hotel room. your moans almost overpowered the sound of it, especially when you were at the peak of your high. everything felt so intense, it left you shaking when you were coming down from it.
he pressed an open mouthed kiss onto your clit as he slipped his fingers out of you, he knelt back on his knees and looked down at you fondly. your gaze was set on the mirror above you, eyes flicking over your own body in the reflection. you looked so fucked out, sungchan thought you looked pretty like this and he hoped you thought it too.
“so sweet” his fingers ran over your skin, hand still in yours “my sweet girl, gonna fuck you so good, just like i promised” he settled himself properly between your thighs, he held the base of his cock with his hand and pressed it against your cunt. he lifted it before slapping it against your clit, laughing at the way you whined and jolted at the sudden action.
sungchan leaned over you, keeping your hand in his and pinning it against the pillow next to your head. he leaned down to kiss you softly, lips only pressing against yours for a brief few seconds before he was pulling them off of yours and shifting his cock to line up with your hole. he looked down at you whilst he pressed the tip inside of you, his lips parted as he felt you squeeze around him.
“need to relax, baby” he breathed out, already feeling overwhelmed by how wet and warm you were “can’t fit me inside if you’re too tense” you nodded at him, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his as he stretched you out, easing himself deeper with a gentle whine. you could’ve came just from the sounds he was making, nothing was prettier than the way sungchan moaned when his cock was pressed deep inside of you.
sungchan grabbed your other hand and pinned it on the pillow the other side of your head, keeping you in place with your hands in his. his head found its way into the crook of your neck, hips pressed against yours as he tried to relax himself. you’d swallowed his cock whole, took every inch of him with ease. sungchan remembered the time you struggled to take even half of his cock, now you were here taking all of him eagerly. he was proud but so overwhelmed, nothing compared to the feeling of your soaked little cunt wrapped around his cock.
it only took a few sharp thrusts for your eyes to find the mirror, the reflection showed something that you could only describe as completely sinful. sungchan’s back flexed with each thrust, your legs were wrapped around his waist pushing him deeper into you. it turned you on endlessly, sungchan was sure he felt you gushing around him, clenching with every other thrust. it turned him into a mess. his moans fell into your neck, groaning a little deeper each time you tightened your cunt around him.
“you’re so fucking wet” sungchan found the strength to lift his head out of your neck, pace of his thrusts increasing slightly as he looked at you, finding your eyes glued to the ceiling. they were dark, he was sure he had never seen you so turned on before, so soaked and dazed “you like watching yourself get fucked, baby?” you moaned, eyes barely flicking away from the mirror to meet his eyes, he pressed a soft kiss against your jaw, noticing the way your eyes had filled with tears.
“feel good?” you nodded, whimpering the moment your lips parted when you tried to talk. sungchan’s hips bucked a little harder against yours, a tear fell from your eye at the contact. you felt swollen, poor pussy being fucked raw by him, the feeling was surreal, the pleasure more intense than ever “fuck, you look so pretty when you cry” he leaned down to press a soft kiss against the tear that fell from your eye before slowing his thrusts down, lifting himself up and pulling out of you. you could only whimper at the sudden emptiness you felt.
“what’s wrong?” his heart melted at the way you asked him, your eyes wide and cautious as you watched him. he smiled at you.
“want you to ride me” god, if there was one thing you knew sungchan adored, it was having you ride him. he loved taking control even when you were on top of him, somehow he always found a way to grab you and fuck his cock up into you. it sent you to heaven every time without fail.
he sat down, having part of his back resting against the headboard. he was slouched, he beckoned you to sit on his lap. once you did he grabbed you, it was as if he manhandled you so your back was against his chest. “gonna watch you get fucked together, okay? need to see my pretty girl fall apart” you gulped back a whine at his words, he held his arms around your waist as you reached down to hold his cock, trying your hardest in your shaky state to line him up with you. 
a whimper left you as you sank down on his cock, hands holding onto his toned forearms as you took all of him. the familiar warmth instantly filling you again. your nails dug into his skin when you felt him thrust up lightly into you, your body moulded against his. you met his eyes through the mirror, his eyes looked clouded over, as if he was in a state of delirium. sungchan simply thought that what he was looking at was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, he needed to wreck you.
he placed his feet flat on the bed, one of his arms leaving your waist so he could wrap his hand around your neck, his other hand fell to your clit as he thrusted up into you. his grip on your neck was tight as he fucked you, cock fucking into you quite fast with strength behind his thrusts. you were dizzy and that only grew as he groaned into your ear.
“you’re so fucking perfect” his eyes never left your body as he fucked up into you, fingers rubbing constant circles on your clit. if he wasn’t as strong as he was, you were sure you would’ve slipped off of his body with how much you were trying to squirm. the overwhelming pleasure made it hard to keep still “you look so little against me, fuck, you drive me insane” he practically groaned his words out.
he was right, it only made you clench around his more as you watched the way his body almost devoured yours. he was ruining you, inside and out, in the best ways possible. everything mixed together left you on the verge of cumming around his cock, yet it was impossible for you to tell him. moans slipped from your lips, you could see the way his cock disappeared inside of you through the mirror and somehow the visual of it only made it harder for you to keep your moans to yourself. sungchan had a good sense of your body though, being able to tell when you were on the edge.
“cum, baby, need you to see how pretty you look when you cum” sungchan’s voice was strained, he was holding himself off from pressing his cock inside of you and filling you with his cum. but he couldn’t, not yet, he needed to watch you cum first. and he did. he watched you squeeze around his cock, felt you dig your nails into his arm as he fucked you through your orgasm, his cum spilling into you only moments after.
his arms wrapped around your waist as you tried to calm down, your thighs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. your eyes met his in the mirror again, there was a soft smile on his face. both of you were fucked out, on the edge of delirious, but that didn’t stop you from asking him an important question.
“so, when are we getting one?”
⋆ ˚。 ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。 ⋆
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4ln-stay8 · 5 months
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Secrets and shadows
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>summary: Lando denies your relationship in order to keep it private but that took a toll on you
>author’s notes: i hope this isn’t too bad… im trying tbh… this is probably bad but anyway… enjoy
>warnings: lying, insecurity, anxiety, crying, teasing, denying, doubt
The evening sun painted Lando's gaming setup with a warm glow as he fired up his Twitch stream. Lando adjusted his headset with a grin, ready to dive into another streaming session with Max and Bankai on his Discord server.
"Alright chat, we're live! What's up, everyone? It's been a while." said Lando starting his stream "Today, Max and Bankai will join us for some gaming, is that okay chat?" He continued
The fans in the chat exploded with excitement as Lando hadn't streamed in a while.
"Chat say hi to the boys!" said Lando with excitement as his friends entered his discord server
"Hey guys, hey chat! Ready for some gaming, Lando?" said Max excited to join his friends.
"Im ready to beat you Max, thats for sure!" said Lando confident in his ability
Lando was reading the chat trying to keep up with his fans when he noticed that something was off. The chat was full of questions about someone passing by in the background.
"Calm down chat, jeez! She's just a friend crashing at my place for a while. Now let's get back to the game so we can beat Max." Lando said chuckling trying to calm them down.
"I'm counting on it. And who knows, maybe your 'friend' in the background will bring you some luck." said Bankai while Lando was reading the chat.
"Not you too man. I've just calmed chat down, don't make them start again. She is just a friend" said Lando trying to hold chat into place
"Yeah, right guys. 'Just a friend." said Max chuckling
"Seriously guys stop it. She is just a friend, nothing more. She is not even my type anyway, plus she is also a friend of Flo so she can confirm my point." said Lando frustrated with the teasing
In the other room, you were watching Lando's stream. You couldn't help but smile as you listened to his voice and watched him play, feeling warmth in your heart. But when you heard him deny your relationship, your heart sank, and a heavy pain formed in your chest.
Insecurity washed over you. You've always known that being with someone as famous and adored as Lando would come with its challenges. But hearing him say you were just a friend made you question if you were truly good enough for him.
He not only denied your relationship but he also denied you. "She is not even my type".... Those words kept playing over and over again in your mind. You didn't expect him to tell everyone about you but you also didn't expect him to deny you like that.
It hurt you more than you wanted to. That mean voice in your mind getting louder and louder and louder with every second passing.
You felt like you interpreted everything wrong. Maybe you weren't in a relationship, maybe it was something else, but yet if you wouldn't have been in a relationship you wouldn't have told each other 'I love you' as much as you did.
You were questioning everything. You knew it was wrong. You took into consideration that you could've been overreacting right now but your insecurities were louder than your rationality.
You changed yourself into some of your clothes, leaving Lando's clothes, that were previously on you, on the bed. You picked up your phone and walked to the living room.
Once you got there, you grabbed a blanket and you opened the door to the balcony and stepped outside. You needed some fresh air and some quiet to try and calm your mind down.
You put the blanket around you and you set in the chair that was placed there. You set there crying quietly. You didn't want to cry but you just couldn't stop.
As as Lando and the boys started another round in the game, the banter continued.
"Focus on the game, guys. Stop trying to stir up drama." said Lando annoyed with his friends
"Drama? Nah, just trying to figure out when you'll finally introduce us to this mysterious 'friend.'" said Bankai teasing him
"Seriously, Lando, you've got some explaining to do. The chat is blowing up with theories." Max warned Lando as he saw the chat going wild once again
"Theories? It's just a friend, I promise. No hidden agenda." said Lando rolling his eyes, trying to concentrate on the game.
The teasing continued throughout the stream, with Lando playing along, trying to keep the focus on the game.
"Alright, enough about my 'friend.' Let's get back to the action, yeah?" said the curly haired brit while his friends kept laughing
"Fine, fine. But you owe us some answers, mate. We won't forget this." said Bankai before focusing back on the game
As the stream ended, the playful banter echoed in the virtual space, leaving Lando with a smile as he signed off, leaving the mystery of his "friend" hanging in the air, much to the amusement of Max and Bankai.
He was happy he managed to get through the stream without spilling something out, but what he didn't know was the effect his words had on you.
He went to find you, wanting to enjoy some time together before calling it a day, but to his surprise he didn't find you.He saw his clothes on the bed, the ones that were on you earlier and he didn't understand why they were there.
He called your name but no one answered. He looked for you all over the apartment but you weren't anywhere to be found. He sent you texts, still no answer. He called your phone a hundred times but he was still unlucky. He started to get worried but then he noticed the blurry figure of his beloved girlfriend and he walked to the balcony confused.
On the dimly lighted balcony, Lando sat down beside you, his curiosity evident. "Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere, I even called you, why didn't you answer?" He asked concerned
"I didn't heard the phone sorry" you said, your words barely above a whisper
"What's going on? You seem off," he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.
You hesitated for a moment, then looked up at him with a forced smile. "Just tired, I guess. It was a long day." You replied, avoiding eye contact.
Lando sensed something was amiss. "Come on, you can tell me anything. What's going on baby?" he reassured you, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, you finally found the courage and opened up. "I... I heard what you said on the stream about me. It just made me wonder if you really meant it" you admitted, vulnerability present in your voice.
Lando's expression softened as he realized the impact of his words. "Y/n baby, you know it's not like that. You mean more to me than anyone else. I just didn't want people prying into our private lives," he explained sincerely.
You nodded, a mixture of relief and lingering insecurity in your eyes. "I get it, but sometimes it's hard to hear those things, even if I know they're not true. I couldn't stop my mind from thinking it's true" you confessed, tears falling down your face
Lando pulled you into a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry if it hurt you. I'll make it up to you, alright? I don't want you doubting how important you are to me, ever! Trust me my love, you are everything I've ever wanted and more! I love you more than anything so please stop doubting yourself and your place in my life!" he promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead.
As you sat there, the weight lifted off your shoulders. Lando understood the importance of his words and remembered that people can interpretate them differently.
You sat there, looking at the stars, holding each other close. You managed to calm yourself down and let your rationality take over. You looked up to look at Lando's face. As if he got a cue, he looked down at you with wonder in his eyes.
"I love you! And I'm sorry I overreacted" you said quietly avoiding his eyes
"I love you too baby! And I'm sorry for what I said" he whispered leaning in to kiss you.
You sat there, on the cold balcony for a little longer. You fell asleep due to the exhaustion caused by all the crying. Lando noticed and picked you up carrying you to the bedroom. He placed you down on the bed before joining you.
"I love you more than anything my love, never forget that" he whispered kissing your forehead before he pulled you closer falling asleep in your arms.
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junggunz · 3 months
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wet ft. owen knight | 🔞
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summary: owen is a little obsessed with you. but it's in the best way. cw: fem!reader, smut, shower sex, fluff if you squint, pwp, oral (f receiving), p in v, all characters featured are 18+ wc: 1.8k an: requested! i was gonna post this with the jay jo smut but likee...i made yall wait long enough LOL. enjoy bbys. windbreaker simps plz join my discord server too so we can thirst together-
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
At the start of your day, Owen is practically latched to your hip; standing beside you at the bathroom counter while you brush your teeth and wash your face. While you’re picking out your clothes, he watches you choose your outfit so he can find something to coordinate or match with you. When you sit down in front of the mirror to do your makeup, he’s in total awe—wondering how you could look pretty naturally and in total glam. So smitten with you, every little thing you do captivates him and with every step you take, he wants to be next to you whenever he can. 
During your night time routine, it’s usually the same thing. Except for tonight. Owen had let you out of his sight for a couple minutes and you had the audacity to start your shower without him. He hears the water running in the bathroom while he had been cleaning up after dinner like you had asked him to and immediately stops what he’s doing to stomp over to the bathroom. 
“Showering? Without me?” Owen asks you from outside the shower stall. You don’t even have to see his face to know that he’s angrily pouting. Pulling back the curtain, you give him an apologetic smile.
“Today is my hair washing day. You know how serious I am about my hair routine.” You tell him, but his expression doesn’t change and he’s already in the process of undressing so he could join you.
“And you know I love helping you with that.” He quips back, inviting himself into the spacious shower and accompanying you under the warm water. 
Seeing that you were in the middle of shampooing your hair, Owen’s hands replace yours and gently massage your scalp; the movement of his fingers having a magic like quality to them that has you closing your eyes and sighing contentedly. Without even realizing it, you’re leaning into his body. 
“See? Isn't it so much better when you have me to help you?” He whispers in your ear, giving you a light kiss on your temple before reaching for the detachable shower head to rinse out the shampoo carefully. Once that’s done, Owen treats your hair with the utmost care as he works the conditioner into the ends, then slowly pulls away while waiting for the product to absorb into your locks. 
“Owen, seriously— you don’t need to do all this.” You mumble shyly, watching him create a soapy lather with your body wash and washcloth. 
“But I want to.” He stubbornly insists, bringing the fragrant soap to your skin and gently washing you; leaving no part of your body untouched. 
You can’t tell if it’s because of how intimately yet oh so innocently Owen had touched you or if it’s because of the steam filling the shower stall—though it was highly likely both things were factors—that had your head dizzy and your thoughts out of sorts. There was a reason why you weren’t too keen on having Owen intrude on your shower and you were being reminded of it with each pass of his fingers over your slippery skin. 
Yes, Owen was the clingier one in your relationship. But he was so charming and so sweet, it was easy as pie for him to be able to seduce you into becoming just as needy as he was. It came as natural to him as breathing; you couldn’t even fathom how much of a menace he would be if he intentionally tried to rile you up as often as he casually got your heart racing. After so much time together, you thought by now you would grow some sort of immunity to his allure; yet here you are, trying not to jump on him and ruin the tranquil atmosphere of the shower.  
Silly you for ever thinking Owen couldn’t pick up on how you were feeling. 
“Baby…” He calls out to you in such a honeyed voice, the last thing you expect to fall from his lips is him asking to fuck you right on the spot.
Back pressed against the cold tiles of the wall, Owen’s lips kiss every inch of you in an almost overzealous manner after taking your breath away in a steamy liplock. Your lips are swollen and parted as you watch him kiss his way down until he’s crouching before you and hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder. Face buried into your cunt so all you can see is his brilliant blonde hair, your hips roll against his mouth; mewling in delight as his tongue treats you with even more precise care than he had given you while helping you wash your hair. The wet muscle darts out, dragging hot lines over your clit before starting to gently suckle. 
Your head is spinning from the sweet suction that Owen’s soft, pouty lips give you. As he amps up the intensity of the sucking, your hands fly to his wet hair and hold on for dear life; his name falling from your lips like a mantra. Fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass, Owen is quick to pull you back down onto his mouth when you lift your hips to escape the hungry lashing of tongue. You taste so good and you’re so sweet to him, giving him more to lick up as you get closer and closer to falling apart. Even though your body thrashes and squirms in his hold to fight off the impending finish, he wants it so bad he’s practically aching for it; just the idea of you cumming in his mouth has jolts of pleasure rushing to his cock. 
“Why are you holding back?” He questions quietly, his voice almost inaudible due to the pitter patter of water against the tile and your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
“I don’t wanna finish like this.” You admit bashfully, laughing a little. “It feels selfish—”
You don’t need to explain yourself any further before Owen is slowly rising until he’s standing straight, looking down at you with an affectionate smile; his tongue briefly poking out to lick away the remaining traces of your juices on his lips.
“Aw, baby, you know I love taking care of you.” He croons, reaching to affectionately stroke your cheek. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”    
It takes a lot of nerve for you to directly say that you want him inside you when you cum, but after you manage to get the words out, you’re so glad you were able to find them. 
Always so eager to give you what you want, Owen would have been completely fine with eating you out all night without getting his own release; the fact he was able to bring you so much pleasure was satisfying enough to him. But having you tell him that you desire to become one with him does something else. You can feel how much it excites him to have you under his touch when the stiff shape of his cock grazes your skin as he moves closer to you. Lanky frame towering over you, his cerulean eyes hold the normal expression of adoration as he looks down at you but there’s something more carnal behind it. It’s more apparent in his actions when he hoists you up like you weighed nothing, your back sliding up against the wall as he secures your thighs around his waist.
Hands trailing up the vascular surface of his arms before settling on his broad shoulders to grab on for support, you hold your breath when you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance. He bucks his hips against you without entering you and just sliding his shaft against the slick surface of your folds; lathering his length with the arousal he was licking up not too long ago. When he finally pushes his hips forward, the tip breaching your hole and slipping inside, you fit him like a glove and the long awaited friction has both of you moaning simultaneously. 
“Feel how much I love you?” Owen pants against your skin, his hips sensually rolling into yours as he pushes deeper into your walls until his full balls were pressed against the plush meat of your ass.
“Y-yeah. I love you so much, Owen.” You whimper in response, clinging on to him and look at him with eyes brimming with lust and adoration for him.
“Love you more.” He groans before his eyes close tightly, face twisted into a pleasured expression and thrusting into you at a steady pace.
The already steamy shower feels even hotter with the combined heat of your bodies moving together in unison to bring each other to the peak of elation. Your pearly white essence bathing his cock gathers around the base as his tempo picks up. Toes curling and thighs trembling, your vision is blurred with tears of bliss from the overwhelming pleasure you feel. Hurtling towards your orgasm, your walls clench impossibly tight around Owen’s length and it only serves to encourage him to make things even more intense for you. 
“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” Owen coos sweetly, a lopsided grin on his face. “F-fuck, you feel so good when you squeeze me like that. You’re so perfect.”
His words sound so far away with how fogged up your brain is but the feeling of his blunt fingernails digging into your ass as hard as he can brings you back to reality. The pain tinged pleasure makes you cry out, each drag of his cock against your slick insides pushing you closer and closer to your finish. 
“O-oh, Owen, baby…” You mewl weakly as your muscles tense up just seconds before you feel your body being doused in the white hot ecstasy of your orgasm. 
“Perfect fuckin’ pussy cumming so hard for me.” He chuckles lowly, the fierce snaps of his hips unrelenting and getting more erratic as he nears his own end. 
Your jaw slackens and your throat is raw from moaning so incessantly, you’re only able to let out a raspy gasp when you feel Owen pumping his thick seed into the depths of your pussy; the sensation warming you from the inside as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for taking him so well. 
Aftercare with Owen is always great, but he really proves to you how deep his adoration for you goes when he helps you get ready for bed when the two of you finally wrap up your shower. Every step of your night time routine is practically embedded in his mind from how often he’s watched you do it. Whether you wanted to call it obsession or devotion, you were just glad you Owen was able to pamper you like this.
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