#fic: temptation on his lips

[theharrowing]

Temptation on His Lips

During a chance encounter at a local kink event, Hoseok meets Seokjin—the handsome dominant who opens his eyes to a new world of pleasure.

💙 Hoseok x Seokjin

💙 word count: 16.3k

💙 strangers to lovers, dom/sub, slash, smut, fluff, nsfw, 18+

💙 warnings: dom/top seokjin & sub/bottom hoseok, impact play, flogging, spanking, face slapping, verbal humiliation (use of “slut”, “cocksleeve”, “useless/desperate”), a little spitting, ass to mouth, rough oral sex, anal fingering, rough anal sex, soft feelings, begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, use of “pet” and “baby”, more or less porn without plot, fluff.

💙 written for the One Shot, Two Shot Fest!

💙 thanks to @neoneunnajimin for beta reading!

💙 posted sept. 2022 | read on ao3

나를 부드럽게 죽여줘 너의 손길로 눈 감겨줘 어차피 거부할 수조차 없어 더는 도망갈 수조차 없어 니가 너무 달콤해 너무 달콤해 너무 달콤해서

💙

With a midori sour in hand, Hoseok turns and leans with his elbow propped against the bar top behind him, surveying other clubgoers as they begin to fill the space. Red lights dance around the otherwise dimly-lit room as a downtempo mix of a new wave track plays, and the dancefloor is a mass of writhing bodies, most of which are clad in some kind of goth or BDSM gear, as is the theme for the night. 

Hoseok wears a simple black crop top and tight black jeans, accentuating his taut, muscular frame, bringing the look together with a thick black choker around his neck. His overgrown hair hangs over his forehead in waves, black eyeshadow accents the sharp outer corners of his eyes, and a sticky sweet imprint marks his glass from the strawberry lip gloss he applied in the cab ride over. Hoseok doesn't exactly have anything to wear that would make him blend in, but his hope is that he doesn't stand out too much, either. 

Club Arson came recommended by Hoseok's best friend Jeongguk after Hoseok was on yet another of his drunken rants about how everyone he fucks is too vanilla and how, for once, he would like some hot dominant to absolutely blow his fucking back out. 

With kink night happening just once a month, Hoseok waited anxiously for the night to arrive, only to nearly chicken out at the last minute and call the whole thing off. And although he is glad he made the effort to come out, he still feels rather shy about approaching anyone to strike up conversation.

From where Hoseok stands, the dance floor is to the left, with a walkway that snakes around a counter on the right, leading to the entrance of the club. Ahead of him is an area with large couches and chairs, all of which are black, and to the right, up a short ramp, is a second bar off to the left and a stage in the back.

His friend Jeongguk had mentioned something about stage shows, usually performed by a dominant or dominatrix, where people are tied up, and a number of things are done to them. This fact was the tipping point to both urge Hoseok to come and to nearly make him talk himself out of bothering at all. 

Aside from late-night scrolling through porn sites, Hoseok has never watched anything that has come close to a dominant doing anything to another person. And while he doesn't necessarily expect to find someone to hook up with tonight, he at least wants to witness the scene and decide how he feels about dipping his toe into the kink pool. He knows some things—terminology, tools used during different types of play, and so on—but he has never experienced or witnessed any of it firsthand. 

Curious about how much longer the club night transforms from a typical event to one where the dominant is on stage doing something to a submissive, Hoseok checks the time on his phone. 10:39 PM. Twenty-one more minutes until the show starts. 

With time to spare, Hoseok slams back the rest of his drink and makes his way to the bar closer to the stage. There are a few people lingering in the area, and only one man at the bar, so Hoseok bets on getting one more drink in his system—liquid courage to stand and watch whatever it is he might have the pleasure or horror of witnessing.

Hoseok orders another midori sour and stands with his elbow against the bar, taking in the area with the stage. A large wooden X stands in the center with cuffs on each end and a small black table to the left, and Hoseok imagines being bound to that—imagines what someone might do to him. 

"Come here often?" a rich, mellow voice asks, breaking Hoseok from his thoughts. 

The voice belongs to the only other man at the bar, and Hoseok finds his eyes roving over the man's form in such a frenzy he feels his cheeks turn bright pink in an instant. Under an unbuttoned black blazer, the man wears a sheer top with a plunging v-neck that buttons just above his waistband before it tucks into black slacks. The top leaves very little to the imagination, revealing a gorgeous valley of golden skin and well-defined pecs.

Hoseok tries not to stare at the man's exposed skin nor the hints of muscle, and he certainly does his best not to even notice the thick gold chain necklace sitting high on his collar, accentuating his long neck so perfectly—no, no, noticing all of this would make the man far too enticing, in ways Hoseok struggles to fully comprehend. 

The real kicker, though, is the man's face. Between his sharp jawline and exposed forehead are deep brown almond eyes that bore into Hoseok's soul, and plush, full lips pulled into a smirk. The man is, in a word, devastating. 

"Cat got your tongue?" the man asks, straightening his posture and turning to fully face Hoseok. His short, dark brown hair is perfectly styled off his forehead, giving Hoseok a clear view of one curiously raised eyebrow. There is a confidence in the way the man carries himself that makes Hoseok glance nervously around the space, finding it hard to hold eye contact.

"N-no," Hoseok finally responds, returning his gaze to the man. "First time."

The man hums and blinks slowly. "I figured. You look a bit like a fawn caught in headlights."

"Ah," Hoseok responds, looking down at the vibrant green drink in his hands.

"I'm Seokjin," the man says, holding out a hand. Hoseok reaches to accept, surprised by how firmly Seokjin grips onto him. 

"Hoseok," he mutters in return.

"What brings you here, Hoseok? Hoping to find a hookup? Or just scoping out a new scene?"

Hoseok is surprised by Seokjin's candor, and he lifts his glass to his lips, sipping his semi-sweet cocktail before responding. 

"Maybe a little of both," he admits, noting the way Seokjin's eyebrows raise. "I’m new to all of this, but curious. And I don't have high expectations for finding a hookup, but it's on the table."

Seokjin hums. "What qualifications would a hookup have to meet to entice this pretty little fawn?"

"Uh—I g-guess someone experienced in the scene who seems trustworthy. Someone I'm attracted to."

"A dominant," Seokjin assumes, cocking his head to the side. 

"Y-yes. Is that obvious?"

Seokjin nods softly, and the edge of his mouth lifts ever so slightly. "It is. How much experience do you have in the scene?"

"None."

"None?"

Hoseok shakes his head. Heat rises to his cheeks once more, and he looks down at his drink, feeling a wave of shame wash over him. He half expects Seokjin to make fun of him or tell him he shouldn't be at a club for kink if he has no idea what he is getting himself into. But as he lifts his gaze back to Seokjin's gorgeous face, he finds a soft smile greeting him. 

"Brave of you to come to a place like this with no experience, fawn," Seokjin says. "But you need to be careful. Not everyone has the submissive's best interests in mind. You have to make sure you meet someone who you're confident you can put your trust into."

Hoseok nods and takes another drink. Of course, he knows this to be the case. In any sexual encounter, there needs to be some amount of security and preparation; he can only imagine how much is required for an encounter with any kind of dominant and submissive dynamics. Still, he is here with the hope of at least meeting somebody to get to know and build a bond with. 

"You should also beware of anyone who simply announces they're a dom or that they would like to take care of you," Seokjin continues. "It's one thing to be able to identify your dynamic, but throwing it out there so plainly is tacky. Actions speak louder than words, fawn. You will know whether there is a connection when you've met someone."

This makes Hoseok grin. The friendly advice that almost sounds like a genuine concern for his well-being, especially with the way Seokjin has given Hoseok his undivided attention since their conversation began. He can't help but wonder if Seokjin is attempting to hint at the fact that he would like to take care of Hoseok. His body language and the way he watches Hoseok certainly make him seem interested, and Hoseok believes he feels at least a hint of a connection. 

Sure, Hoseok may look like a shy woodland creature, evidently, but he knows he also looks good. He knows he will have no trouble meeting new people once he eases into the night. And with the way Seokjin's gaze flits down to Hoseok's exposed tummy, to his neck and back to his eyes, Hoseok feels enough confidence to hold firmer eye contact.

"Know anyone who fits the description?" Hoseok asks, knowing it is a silly question—silly but cheeky, at least. 

Seokjin leans in, placing his elbow on the bar, bringing the two of them to eye level. "Someone who is attractive—to your standards—and trustworthy enough to take care of a pretty little inexperienced fawn?"

Hoseok smirks and nods. "Exactly."

"And what is your type, fawn? What do you find attractive?"

Hoseok makes a show of letting his eyes slowly drift from Seokjin's eyes, down to this belt and back up again. Seokjin's smirk grows into a grin, and Hoseok opens his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a man on stage tapping two fingers against a microphone. 

"Are you deviants ready for a show?" the man asks into the microphone, cutting over the music. 

Hoseok glances between him and Seokjin, but his mind is so overrun with thoughts of the interaction that had been interrupted that he can't say for certain what the man on stage looks like. A crowd begins to form in front of the small stage, and Seokjin continues to lean against the bar with his eyes on Hoseok.

"Let's get our man of the hour up here then, shall we?" the man asks into the microphone, met by cheers and applause of the growing audience.

Hoseok watches as Seokjin's face brightens with delight—as he nibbles on his bottom lip, and Hoseok's mind races, trying to figure out why. Seokjin appears to be in on some secret that Hoseok is not, and he squints at Seokjin and cocks his head, waiting for the man to say anything.

"Let's welcome to the stage the devilish debonair who can tame even the brattiest of subs! The man who you may only refer to as master or sir! Master Seokjin!"

The man on stage elongates the 'i' in Seokjin, dragging it out several beats, and in all that time, Seokjin's smile grows. Seokjin winks at Hoseok and mutters, "Enjoy the show, fawn," before turning and making his way through a small section of the crowd to a short set of steps and onto the stage. 

All thoughts evaporate as Hoseok watches Seokjin welcome a man to the stage with him. The man is small and pretty, with pastel pink hair and a pouty smile. He shrugs out of a pink silk robe, stands before the audience in only a pair of matching pink briefs, and turns away so Seokjin can lock his wrists and ankles into the cuffs on the large wooden X, with his back facing the crowd. Then, he turns his head to the left, making it so Hoseok can see his facial expressions perfectly. 

Seokjin turns to the crowd to flash everyone a smile, and Hoseok could swear his eyes land on him for a split moment before he removes his blazer and tosses it aside. Seokjin reaches for something on stage, turning away, and Hoseok's breath hitches at the sight of large black and grey clouds covering Seokjin's back, clearly visible through the sleeveless mesh shirt. Hoseok wants to reach out and touch him—wants to trace each line with his fingertips until he knows them by heart. 

The audience is quiet and attentive as Seokjin leans in and whispers something to the man he has shackled on stage. Whoever was on the mic seems to have left, leaving the two of them alone. Seokjin's fingers gently caress the man's back, and Hoseok watches as the man shivers under his touch and bites his bottom lip. 

Seokjin takes his place behind the man on stage, lifts a flogger, and slowly begins striking the pretty man's back with it. At first, the man jolts whenever the leather touches his skin, but then he must settle into the feeling as he smiles and takes each gentle strike without much movement. Hoseok cannot hear over the music, but he can see the man's lips tug into a smile at times, and whenever his bottom lip trembles, Hoseok imagines the man must be whimpering. 

Gradually, Seokjin begins to strike harder and faster, and he steps off to the side to give Hoseok a clearer view of the man's back—pretty pale skin covered from shoulders to waist in red streaks, some crossing others. The more Seokjin strikes the same place again and again, the more the man's head falls back, and he moans. And this time, Hoseok hears it—deep with a pitchy, desperate lilt at the end—a sound Hoseok is certain he has never heard himself make before. 

Hoseok is unsure how long he stands leaning against the bar watching Seokjin flog the pretty man, but he feels dizzy, somewhat electric, and needy. He also feels foolish. Clearly, there is chemistry between these two that Hoseok cannot dare to achieve with Seokjin—not that Seokjin would have any want or need for Hoseok anyway, since he seems to already have a submissive to take care of. 

But that doesn't deter Hoseok, and he keeps his eyes on the men on stage, intrigued by how the pain from the flogging seems to be turning the pretty man into a pliable mess of limbs as his head rocks from side to side. Hoseok wonders if the man's cock is hard—if either of their cocks are hard—feeling a familiar throb of arousal in his jeans.

Seokjin sets the flogger aside, turns to the audience and says, "Pretty," as he delicately rubs his fingertips over the marks on the man's back. The crowd claps and cheers, and the other man responds under his touch, shivering and whimpering as if Seokjin is digging more welts into his skin. 

Then Seokjin reaches for a bottle of something, pops the cap open, and holds it above the man's shoulders, slowly squeezing it and letting clear liquid drizzle onto his skin. The man's hands ball into fists, then loosen as he reacts to the feeling of the liquid on his sensitive skin. 

Gently, Seokjin rubs in the liquid, getting close to the man as if saying something to him—perhaps praising him for being so good and so pretty, or commanding him to thank Seokjin for what he has done. At least, that is what Hoseok would want Seokjin to say to him after something like this.

Suddenly, everything feels too intimate, and Hoseok turns away, slams his drink and waits for the bartender to come by to take his order. He gets a third midori sour, and he spares a few glances back at the stage before staring down at the bar top and studying the lines and knots in the wood until his vision blurs and he spaces out. 

The sounds of the crowd erupting into cheers and praise pull Hoseok from his reverie, and he glances around to find the pink-haired man uncuffed and wrapping his silk robe around himself. Seokjin holds his blazer in one hand with it slung over his shoulder, and he stands still while the other man waves and smiles at the spectators. They turn to disappear somewhere off to the side of the stage, and folks disperse back to the other sections of the club while some approach the bar for a drink. 

Hoseok is certain Seokjin will not be coming back for a while; he probably has more aftercare to provide for his pretty submissive. Perhaps they might find some dark corner to fuck in, to finish what they've started, or leave the club altogether and go home. So, Hoseok sighs, turns away from the bar, and begins to walk toward the dancefloor. 

There is a different kind of energy in the club now—an electricity buzzing in the air, making all of Hoseok's senses feel extra alert. He walks down the short ramp and glances around at others grinding against walls, chatting while sitting on the couches and chairs, and people-watching just as intently as he is. Hoseok wonders if he has the nerve to approach anyone should anyone seem approachable. 

But for now, Hoseok settles on chugging back the rest of his third drink so his hands are free to dance. Intoxication washes over him and hugs him tight, and he sways to the synth-heavy music as he approaches the other bar. Hoseok sets his empty glass down with a careless thud, then takes a step back and slams into a firm body. 

"S-sorry," Hoseok mutters as he turns and faces Seokjin. "Oh, h-hey."

"Leaving so soon, fawn?" Seokjin asks as he holds out a hand to steady Hoseok on his feet. His blazer is nowhere to be found, and Hoseok drinks in the view up close, noticing hints of cloud tattoos at the tops of Seokjin's shoulders. 

Hoseok shakes his head and chuckles. He is not drunk enough to imagine Seokjin is standing before him—and anyway, he is not aware of any ingredients in a midori sour that could have hallucinogenic properties—so what is Seokjin doing here?

"Shouldn't you be with your pretty submissive, sir?" Hoseok says with a bite on the last word, smiling to himself as if he has just told a hilarious joke. 

Seokjin studies Hoseok briefly and smirks. "As a matter of fact, Jimin's dominant is taking good care of him as we speak."

"J-jimin?"

"The pretty submissive," Seokjin says, raising his eyebrows at Hoseok. "His name is Jimin. He and his dominant are close friends of mine, and sometimes we borrow one another for stage shows."

Hoseok nods and absorbs the information. Then, satisfied with this development and ready to move on, he blurts out, "Wanna dance with me?"

"I would love to," Seokjin responds. It takes Hoseok by surprise; he was half expecting him to say no, despite his effort to seek Hoseok out after his performance. 

Without another word, Hoseok steps in the direction of the dance floor. He doesn't look back to make sure Seokjin is following; his drunk confidence assures him that he is. As the crowd becomes dense, a hand grabs onto Hoseok's bicep, warm, steady and secure, and Hoseok guides them to the center of the area, where there is an opening in the energetic throng of bodies, then spins around to find Seokjin standing close. 

Seokjin's arms fall to his sides as he sways slowly to the music, and he doesn't take his eyes off Hoseok. Hoseok feels warm and fuzzy, and he smiles at Seokjin, lifts his arms over his head, and begins to let his hips dip and grind as the bass reverberates through his body. Shy as Hoseok may still be, he feels confident dancing. The alcohol helps. 

"May I touch you?" Seokjin asks, leaning close enough to ensure Hoseok will hear him. 

Hoseok wraps his arms around Seokjin's neck and grins. "I was hoping you would ask. Thought maybe you would make me beg."

Seokjin's arms snake around Hoseok and gently pulls him close. There is a faint, floral musk that finds Hoseok's nose, and he inhales deeper, chasing the scent. 

"Would you like me to make you beg?" Seokjin asks against the shell of Hoseok's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. 

Hoseok nibbles on his bottom lip to keep himself from blurting out a response despite being absolutely sure that the answer is yes. Yes, he just met Seokjin, and accepting any sort of offer is taking a risk; he knows this. But after seeing the way Seokjin handled Jimin, and feeling the electricity that sparks between them as Seokjin's fingers trace idle shapes on the exposed skin of Hoseok's back while he tangles his fingertip in the hair on Seokjin's nape, there is absolutely nothing else he could possibly need. 

"Yes, sir," Hoseok whines, breathy and desperate, with a smile at the end.

Seokjin hums and drops his voice even lower. "Do you mean that, fawn?" 

"Yes, please."

In a flash, Seokjin grips Hoseok by the hips and spins him around, pressing Hoseok's back against his chest. His hands dance over Hoseok's hips and tummy delicately, tentatively, as if testing the waters of what he will allow, and Hoseok gladly allows him to do as he wishes. Hoseok continues to grind his hips and sway to the music, rubbing his ass over Seokjin's crotch without pressing hard enough to feel too much. 

"We have some things to discuss," Seokjin says against Hoseok's ear. "Can you hear me like this or should we go somewhere quieter?"

Hoseok grins and turns his head. "I hear you, sir."

"I need to know what you want, and I need to know your limitations," Seokjin states, wrapping his arms around Hoseok. Hoseok still has room to sway, but his movements are limited. 

"I'm not sure exactly what I want," Hoseok admits, "but I know I want something more than the vanilla experience that I'm used to."

Seokjin nuzzles his nose behind Hoseok's ear, sending a calming chill through him. He relaxes in Seokjin's hold and sways his hips slower. 

"I need you to be a little more specific, fawn."

"I want—" Hoseok begins, trying desperately to make his jumbled thoughts form into words. "I want to beg and be teased and called names. I want my limits to be pushed."

"Begging, possible humiliation, and overstimulation?" Seokjin clarifies, and Hoseok nods, to which he adds, "Use your words, fawn."

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds, closing his eyes so that only he and Seokjin exist in this moment together.  

"Impact play?" Seokjin asks, tightening his hold until Hoseok's only range of motion is grinding his ass against Seokjin's bulge. 

"Like spanking?"

Seokjin chuckles. "Spanking, slapping, flogging, et cetera."

"Yes, sir."

"Anything else?"

"I'm not sure, sir."

Seokjin presses his lips into Hoseok's neck, kissing down his pulse point below his ear. A shiver quakes through Hoseok, and he tenses in Seokjin's hold, letting out a gasp that grows into a moan.  

"Should we get out of here, then?" Seokjin asks against Hoseok's skin.

Hoseok already feels breathless and dazed and eager to discover more. "Yes, sir."

Seokjin takes Hoseok by the wrist and guides him off the dance floor. They snake through the crowd, past the bar, to the back of the club, and Seokjin mutters, "Wait here," near the stage before disappearing around a dark corner. Hoseok feels giddy and nervous, and he shifts around as one leg bounces too fast to be in time with the music. 

When Seokjin returns with a black duffle bag, he takes Hoseok's hand, laces their fingers together, and leads him through the club once more, toward the front door. A few people wave to Seokjin on their way through, and Jimin—who wears his pink satin robe—hugs Seokjin as they exit and looks Hoseok up and down with a mischievous smirk before waving them off. 

Hoseok's heart races as they get into a black sedan, and Seokjin waits for Hoseok to buckle his seatbelt before he takes off. The drive to Seokjin's apartment is short and mostly quiet; Seokjin seems to have a tune in his head, and he gently taps his fingers against the steering wheel. 

Although there are many things Hoseok wants to say to Seokjin and many questions he would like to ask him, his nerves get the best of him, and he watches city lights go by in silence. 

The building Seokjin lives in seems unassuming enough, but Hoseok recognizes the neighborhood and is not wholly surprised when, on a floor close to the top of the building, Seokjin opens his door to reveal a spacious unit with a view of the not-too-distant skyline. 

"Water?" Seokjin offers.

Hoseok nods as he slides his socked feet out of his black laceless boots and mutters, "Yes, please."

As Seokjin toes out of his shoes and swiftly turns a corner toward where Hoseok assumes his kitchen is, Hoseok makes his way toward the living room. Seokjin's apartment consists of dark woods and black upholstered furniture, and Hoseok sits on a large couch and looks out the window at the river in the distance. Seokjin joins him a moment later, setting a glass of water in front of Hoseok before sitting beside him. 

"How are you feeling, fawn?" Seokjin asks gently, extending his arm and holding his hand out to Hoseok. 

Hoseok scoots close to Seokjin and lets himself get wrapped in a loose embrace. He feels comfortable with Seokjin like this and smiles as he says, "Nervous. Really fucking nervous. But also really good."

Seokjin nods. "Good. I was worried I had scared you away when I came off the stage, and you were gone. Thank you for giving me another shot."

"Ah," Hoseok mutters. "Yeah, s-sorry, I just thought you and Jimin...I thought it was silly to wait around for someone who might not be interested in me."

"Did our earlier conversation not make it clear that I was interested in you?" Seokjin asks softly with a hint of sadness in his tone. 

"Honestly..." Hoseok begins, reaching for the water. Seokjin's hand slips from his shoulder, and Hoseok takes a drink, sets the glass back down, and settles into Seokjin's hold once more. "I thought for sure you were into me, but when you went on stage I...I guess I got worried that maybe it was all just a game or something. And that you had someone else."

Hoseok looks at Seokjin to find him frowning. Seokjin lifts his hand and gently rubs the back of his fingers against Hoseok's cheek, and Hoseok lets his eyes flutter closed as he leans into the touch. 

"No games, fawn. I promise. Moving forward I'll be perfectly clear, okay?"

Hoseok nods and smiles, and Seokjin's fingers move to his neck and rub down and up in a slow, soothing motion. When he opens his eyes, Seokjin is watching him with a soft smile that makes Hoseok's heart pound. He wants to initiate something, but he also wants Seokjin to have full control, so he waits for instruction. 

"We should discuss boundaries and expectations," Seokjin says softly, and Hoseok nods.

"At the club, you agreed to impact play, begging, overstimulation and a little humiliation. Is that still what you want?"

Hoseok's cheeks warm, and he smiles as he softly mutters, "Yes, sir."

"What if I want to loosely restrain you with my hands, or something else that you can easily slip out of?"

Hoseok likes the sound of this, and his lips tremble as he replies, "Yes, sir."

"Do you want to have sex during this play?"

This question takes Hoseok by surprise, and he feels foolish for assuming there would be sex. Seokjin must sense his hesitance and asks, "Something the matter, fawn?"

"Oh, no," Hoseok responds. Seokjin's gaze is so steady and calm, Hoseok finds it disarming and looks down at the gold chain around his neck instead. He sounds nervous as he admits, "I guess I...assumed there would be sex involved."

"Ah," Seokjin says, and Hoseok lifts his gaze back to his face. "That's a common assumption, but sex isn't always necessary to enjoy the play. It depends on many factors, though, including what you like and how much you like it. And how good I take care of you. Some submissives even get gratification without orgasm, but if you hope to cum, that's something we can do."

Hoseok likes the idea of submitting to Seokjin and letting him work him up without sex being involved, though he also very much wants Seokjin to fuck him, despite not knowing him very well. There is something so alluring about Seokjin—not to mention Hoseok finds him very sexy. And, after all, he wants Seokjin to make him beg. 

"I would like to have sex," Hoseok says, "but I would like it if we just do the impact play first to see how much I enjoy it."

"And kissing?" Seokjin asks with a soft smile. 

"Yes, sir," Hoseok all but whispers. "I definitely want you to kiss me."

The tips of Seokjin's fingers touch the underside of Hoseok's chin and tip his head slightly upward, causing something in his tummy to swoop. Instinctively, Hoseok's mouth falls open as he lets out a shaky exhale. 

Seokjin leans close and touches the tips of their noses together with a smirk, and Hoseok tips his head up a bit more but holds back. He wants Seokjin to kiss him so badly it makes his head spin. 

"Before we begin, I have a few rules for you," Seokjin says.

Hoseok sighs quietly, already on the verge of begging, and only for something as simple as a kiss. Seokjin's rich, floral musk fills his senses, intoxicating him. 

"I will be checking in periodically asking for your color, and I expect you to respond with either green, yellow or red. Do you know what these colors mean, fawn?"

Although Hoseok thinks he could guess what they mean, he shakes his head and mutters, "No, sir," gaze razor-focused on Seokjin's lips. 

"Green means you like what we're doing and wish for me to continue. Yellow means you like what we're doing, but you need me to ease up, slow down, or change it up somehow. If you tell me yellow, I will ask what you need, and we will adjust as needed. And, finally, red means we stop, no questions asked. It doesn't have to mean that we are done, but it can if that's what you need."

The idea of doing anything that may require them to suddenly have to stop fills Hoseok with trepidation. As if reading Hoseok's mind, Seokjin says, "I know it sounds scary to have a hard stop option, but I assure you, I will do everything I can to make sure it does not ever come to that. It's just there to let you know that you're safe with me no matter what. But if, at any time, you do need me to slow down or stop, I need you to say yellow or red. Please do not wait for me to ask."

Hoseok tries to nod, though his movement is stifled by Seokjin's fingers, which still hold Hoseok's chin in place. Seokjin is a stranger. He has no reason to believe that he will take care of him the way he says he will, with the exception of watching him bring Jimin pleasure from flogging him on stage. 

Of course, someone's behavior in public may vary from their behavior in private, but there is something about Seokjin that comforts Hoseok. Not to mention, Hoseok wants him. He wants him really bad.

"One last rule," Seokjin says after a pause, and Hoseok widens his eyes, eager to hear what he has to say. "You must address me as sir. If you do not, you will be punished. Understood, fawn?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds softly. 

Seokjin grabs Hoseok by the throat and grips him gently but firmly, and Hoseok gasps, feeling a wave of fear and excitement rush through him. 

"I didn't quite hear you," Seokjin says with a bite to his voice. "What did you say?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok blurts eagerly.

Hoseok wonders if Seokjin can feel his heart pound in his neck. He wonders if he is trembling or if he is just imagining things—if he is quite literally vibrating from excitement. 

The grip on Hoseok's throat stays firm but is never too tight. Seokjin slowly begins to stand from the couch, and Hoseok stays in place, keeping his eyes on Seokjin, waiting to be told what to do. 

"Stand for me, fawn," Seokjin instructs in a stern voice that sends a shiver through Hoseok.

"Yes, sir," Hoseok mutters as he stands, keeping his eyes on Seokjin.

Seokjin cocks his head and squints at Hoseok as if he is disappointed by what he sees, and Hoseok instantly feels aroused by the faint but obvious change in attitude.

"Is there anything you are not comfortable with me using while humiliating you?" Seokjin asks.

"Like what, sir?"

"Your intelligence, perhaps?" 

Hoseok shakes his head. "No, sir."

"You're okay if I tell you what a dumb little slut you are?" 

Hoseok nods; he likes it a lot. "Yes, sir."

"What about your useless little cock?"

Arousal tickles between Hoseok's legs, and he decides he'll have to unpack this later. "I don't mind, sir."

There is a pause while Seokjin searches Hoseok's face, clearly in thought. Then, with a smirk, he says, "Sometimes I use physical appearance as a form of mockery, but you are just too fucking pretty, fawn."

Hoseok's stomach does another swoop. Then, at risk of being punished, Hoseok says, "But neither smart enough nor endowed well enough?"

Seokjin's smirk breaks into a grin, and he scoffs. "If I stuck to telling truths, I would have no way to humiliate you, darling. Plus, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing your cock yet, so we can pretend, can't we?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds with a grin. 

"Good," Seokjin says as he turns away and tugs Hoseok along by the throat. "Come with me."

Seokjin leads Hoseok through his living room, down a short, dark hallway, and into a dark room. He stops them in the doorway and fiddles with something until, slowly, the room is lit with a dim glow from several wall sconces. The room is spacious, with a bed to the left. Hoseok can't make out much beyond that, both from Seokjin blocking his eye line and from the lack of illumination from the sconces. 

Hoseok is led to the bed, and Seokjin drops his hand from Hoseok's throat and tells him to stay put. Then he walks to a large wooden armoire just to the right of the bed and pulls two wooden doors wide open, surveying what he has inside. From where Hoseok stands, it is mostly shadows and silhouettes, but there appear to be leather items hanging that resemble floggers and crops. 

The sound of Seokjin delicately reaching into the dark armoire and pulling out what appears to be a small black box seems loud. Louder than such soft sounds should be, and Hoseok wonders if his senses are heightened from excitement or if he is just imagining things. Seokjin turns to Hoseok with a smile and brings over the box, giving Hoseok a pensive look. 

"I don't usually do this for people who I haven't played with before; I save it for when someone commits to being my submissive." Seokjin opens the thin black box, revealing what appears to be a black leather collar. 

"But," Seokjin continues, pulling the collar from the box, "You look stunning with a choker, and I think you'd look even better in a collar, and I want you to know how it feels, if this is something you would like."

Hoseok nods and cracks a smile, feeling a swell of affection over the gesture. "I would like to wear the collar, sir."

Seokjin smirks and gently tosses the box onto a small table beside his bed. "Good. When you wear this collar, you are mine, little fawn. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds, feeling his heart pound. 

Seokjin walks around Hoseok and unclasps his choker, letting it fall to the floor. Then, he brings the collar to his neck, then begins to fasten it. 

"If you disobey me, I will punish you. Do you understand?"

There is something about the act of being collared and the heaviness of the leather accessory around his neck that makes Hoseok's head spin. He wants to be obedient—wants to be so good for Seokjin. "Yes, sir."

Two warm, firm hands rest on Hoseok's shoulders, and his eyes flutter closed as he relaxes under the touch, allowing his head to angle to the side as if inviting Seokjin to admire his new accessory. 

Seokjin's voice is deep and soft in Hoseok's ear. "But, remember, fawn, that does not include using your safe colors. Saying yellow or red is never considered disobeying me, understood?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok mutters dreamily. 

"Good," Seokjin says, voice more assertive. "Now strip for me."

Hoseok's eyes snap open, and he turns just enough to search Seokjin's face for any hint of mirth, finding only a straight expression. Seokjin lifts an eyebrow and says, "Did I not make myself clear?"

With a quick, nervous shake of the head that becomes a nod because Hoseok is not quite sure how to respond, he springs into action and begins to undo his belt buckle and shove his jeans down. Hoseok wears small black briefs that barely contain his semi-hard cock, and Seokjin walks around him, smiling as he watches him step out of his pants and kick them aside. 

Then, Hoseok reaches for the bottom of his black crop top and begins to remove it. Seokjin catches the material just as Hoseok brings it over his head and has his arms in the air, and Seokjin tightens the shirt around his fist, binding both of Hoseok's arms. A gasp leaves Hoseok's lips, and he rests his restrained hands atop his head rather than fighting it—wanting to be held captive.

"Look at you," Seokjin coos as he runs his fingertips delicately over one of Hoseok's pecs, grazing softly over his nipple. The light touch sends a spark of arousal through Hoseok, and he lets out a pleased huff of air.

"You sure are pretty, fawn. I can't wait to mark you up and make you mine. Is that what you want, darling?"

"Yes, sir."

Seokjin's fingers trail lower, past Hoseok's ribs, down to his tummy, stopping at the waistline of his briefs. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll play with your pathetic cock. Does that sound good, darling?"

Hoseok wants to be touched now—wants it so badly he is practically panting. "Yes, sir."

Seokjin releases his hold on Hoseok and walks to his armoire for a tool, then to his bed. Hoseok drops his shirt to the floor as Seokjin grabs two pillows clad in light blue cases and stacks them in the center of the bed atop a deep blue comforter. Then, he gets onto the bed, sits on his knees beside the pillows and pats the top one with his hand. 

"Come, fawn. I want you on your knees, bent over this."

Hoseok pauses, takes a deep, shaky breath and says, "Yes, sir," as he climbs onto the bed, crawls on his knees to the pillows, and bends over them. 

"Take your time to get nice and comfortable, fawn."

Hoseok lays forward on his elbows with his ass in the air as he says, "Yes, sir."

"So obedient already," Seokjin purrs. 

A large hand touches Hoseok's lower back, making him flinch from anticipation. Then, Hoseok eases into the feeling, relaxing under the warmth that radiates from his palm. 

"Are you ready, fawn?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is a flogger," Seokjin says softly as several thin leather tails rest against Hoseok's lower back. He has seen a flogger before the stage show earlier in the night, and has some idea of what touches him, but he has never felt one before. 

The leather lifts and falls against his skin, tickling at times, and Hoseok breathes through it and resists the urge to wiggle around. Then it lifts, and Hoseok takes in a deep breath, anticipating what is to come. 

"I'm going to strike gently, now," Seokjin says, and Hoseok fists the blanket below him and lets out a shaky exhale. 

The first strike against Hoseok's lower back is so light, he feels silly for expecting it to hurt. Then, Seokjin strikes Hoseok again, still so soft it nearly tickles, and then again and again, alternating left and right in a slow, steady rhythm. With each gentle strike, Hoseok lets out a soft puff of air. Despite it being too delicate to hurt, the skin is beginning to feel a little warm, and each strike is making the skin more sensitive. 

"Color, fawn?"

"Green, sir."

Seokjin snaps the flogger a little harder on Hoseok's right side. The sound makes Hoseok flinch, but the actual pain is still so minimal, he almost feels silly for reacting. Still, with each snap, the skin becomes more and more sensitive until it begins to sting. Hoseok is a bit surprised by how good it makes him feel—by how arousal tickles between his legs with each snap of the flogger.

"Color?"

"Green, sir."

"Does it hurt at all, fawn?"

"It's beginning to feel sensitive and sting, sir. But it doesn't really hurt."

Seokjin moves up Hoseok's back, striking higher left and higher right, up to his shoulders and back down, just above the original strike zone. It feels good, relaxing, even, and Hoseok sinks into the feeling, letting his head hang low while Seokjin flogs up to his shoulder blades and back down. 

"Ready for me to try harder strikes, fawn?" Seokjin asks as he runs the tails of the flogger up and down the center of Hoseok's back. The feeling tickles once more, and Hoseok shivers under its touch. 

"Yes, sir."

"If you want me to ease off, what do you say?"

"Yellow, sir."

The flogger lifts and is replaced by Seokjin's hand, which rubs from the small of Hoseok's back, up to his neck. "Good pet," he praises. 

Seokjin lifts his hand, waits a beat, then strikes Hoseok much harder on his lower right side. The crack of the leather against Hoseok's skin is loud—much too loud for how little it hurt. But it does sting—a sharp, delicious feeling that spreads into the numbness throughout the sensitive skin that had been previously stricken. 

Hoseok moans. It comes out rather involuntarily—his body tenses and relaxes so quickly he sinks forward as a deep sound of pleasure spills from his lips. His cock responds—slowly, the blood flows—and for the first time, Hoseok gets it. 

"What a pretty sound you made, fawn," Seokjin purrs. 

Seokjin strikes Hoseok again, just as hard on the opposite side, and Hoseok moans as he says, "Th—ohhh—thank you, sir."

Hoseok thinks he hears Seokjin groan, but he isn't sure. He would like to think he is having an effect on Seokjin—likes the idea of turning Seokjin on as much as Seokjin turns him on. His nerves are on fire, skin ablaze, and he desperately wants to be wholly consumed.

The flogger strikes Hoseok at a steady pace, cracking against his skin so loud, stinging him so good, Hoseok gasps and moans and writhes against the pillow. His hips twitch each time the leather licks his sore skin, forcing it to become more and more sensitive to the touch until, finally, it hurts. 

"Color, fawn?"

"Gr—ahhh—green, sir!"

Seokjin changes where he strikes, hitting fresh spots that have never been touched, then returning to used plots of skin that feel angry under the leather. Hoseok's moans and whimpers alternate between sweet and soft, and deep and needy, depending on where the leather touches down, and the more unpredictable each strike becomes, the more Hoseok's head begins to spin. He wonders if his skin looks as pretty as Jimin's had looked, with pretty red streaks and raised white welts.

This is heaven, Hoseok thinks. This is joy and pleasure and everything he has ever wanted. All of that and so much more. 

Then, all at once, Seokjin stops. Hoseok trembles against the pillow, grips tightly to the sheet below him and resists the urge to whine. He wants more—wants his skin to break open and for the tails of the flogger to entwine with his sinew and become him. 

"You like this a lot, don't you, fawn?"

Hoseok nods his head and mutters a weak, "uh-huh."

A hand crashes against Hoseok's ass—open palm and firm—smacking him harder than he has ever been spanked before. Hoseok squeals and squeezes the pillow below him, and it occurs to him what he has done wrong.

"I didn't quite hear you, fawn; what was that?"

"Yes, sir!" Hoseok responds eagerly. "I love it, sir."

"Now that I've warmed you up, the real fun can begin," Seokjin says in a deep, playful tone that makes Hoseok nervous and so terribly excited. 

"Would you like that, fawn? Do you want to have some fun?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok says, turning his head to the left in a feeble attempt to look at Seokjin. 

"Turn around for me and sit up on your knees," Seokjin commands. 

Hoseok sits up on his knees as he mutters, "Yes, sir," and shoves the pillows away toward the head of the bed before turning around to face Seokjin. 

A pleased smirk greets Hoseok, and deep, blown-out pupils. Seokjin is still dressed in his sheer sleeveless top and black slacks, sitting high on his knees, and Hoseok mimics his posture and sits the same way. 

Seokjin's eyes rove down Hoseok's body, stop at the hard bulge in his small black briefs, and then raise back to Hoseok's gaze as an eyebrow cocks. He crawls forward on his knees until he is directly in front of Hoseok, saying, "You really liked that, hmm, fawn?" 

Warmth floods Hoseok's cheeks and spreads down to his chest. Never has he been so blatantly looked at before—not like that. "Y-yes, sir."

"May I touch you?" Seokjin asks softly. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok all but whispers. 

Seokjin's left hand raises to Hoseok's jaw before he has a chance to comprehend the movement, and Hoseok gasps, feeling arousal and anticipation quake through him. Seokjin cocks his head to the side and sneers at Hoseok, and Hoseok wonders if he might shrink under his gaze.

"Such a pretty little slut, aren't you?" Seokjin teases bitterly as he gently squeezes Hoseok's jaw. 

"Yes, sir," Hoseok whines.

"I can't believe your useless little cock is already hard, just from flogging. You must be really desperate, hmm?"

Hoseok trembles. Never before has his cock been berated, and he cannot quite comprehend why he finds it so appealing. "Yes, sir," he says softly.

"Arms up, over your head," Seokjin commands, and Hoseok does as he is told, responding, "Yes, sir."

They watch one another, eyes searching between eyes, falling to lips and floating back up. Hoseok wants Seokjin to kiss him so badly, he thinks he might go crazy. 

Seokjin must read the desperation on Hoseok's face, and he pouts, pushing his plush lips out as his eyes widen and downturn. It is a mocking expression that makes Hoseok feel small—makes some small part of him feel embarrassed. Then, Seokjin lifts his right hand and twists the flogger, gently striking Hoseok's pec, grazing leather over his nipple, and Hoseok shakes under the impact as a shattered moan punches through his lips. 

"Color, pet?"

"Green, sir."

The grip on Hoseok's jaw tightens just enough to hurt ever so slightly, and he continues to gently flog Hoseok's pec, down over his ribs, against his tummy, and up to his clavicle. Each strike makes Hoseok tremble and gasp—the particularly good ones make him moan.

"So responsive," Seokjin teases and grins. "So needy."

"Needy for you, sir," Hoseok groans, shaking as leather kisses his nipple. 

Seokjin hums, but it sounds more like a growl. "My pretty, pretty slut."

A devious grin tugs at Seokjin's lips, and he spits on Hoseok's lips. Hoseok is too stunned to gasp, though soft sounds do pass his lips as the flogger continues to strike his skin, on his chest and ribs, in no discernable pattern.

"Color?"

"Green, sir," Hoseok says, resisting the urge to lick the spit from his mouth. It runs down to his chin, leaving a cold streak in its wake. He keeps his eyes on Seokjin.

Seokjin picks up the pace and strength of his strikes and flogs Hoseok's sides, down his ribs and over his hip, to the side of his thigh. The leather wraps and hits sensitive skin on the back of his thigh, and Hoseok trembles and hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Color?"

"Green, sir," Hoseok mutters, opening his eyes. Seokjin grins. 

"You really do like the pain, hmm, fawn?"

"I do, sir."

Seokjin stares at Hoseok's mouth as he flogs him, and Hoseok wonders what he sees. Is it the way his lips tremble with each strike? Is it how he drags his lower lip between his teeth when it really hurts? Hoseok wonders if he likes the view—if perhaps Seokjin wants to kiss him just as badly. 

The weight of Seokjin's grip on Hoseok's jaw is beginning to feel like home—like Seokjin's hand is an extension of Hoseok's body, right where it belongs. Hoseok leans into it as his legs begin to shudder, too tired to hold his weight any longer. 

Seokjin halts flogging and presses down on Hoseok's jaw as if telling him to sit. Hoseok sits, crashing his ass against his ankles before spreading his legs and landing on the mattress. His jaw is still in Seokjin's grasp, which lets up only a little.

"I want to kiss you," Seokjin says so softly, Hoseok wonders if he imagined it. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok mutters anyway.

Seokjin cocks his head. "Please, what?"

Hoseok doesn't miss a beat—doesn't think twice. "Please kiss me, sir."

A smile tugs at Seokjin's lips before his tongue darts out to wet them, and Hoseok watches each movement intently. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok tries again. "Please kiss me."

"You're really enjoying yourself," Seokjin says, towering over Hoseok. 

Hoseok attempts to nod. "Yes, sir. I am."

Seokjin must drop the flogger as Hoseok feels fingertips feather-light graze his cock. He moans and quakes in Seokjin's grasp, eyelashes fluttering, pleading with his eyes. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok whines. 

The touch travels up, along Hoseok's hip, over sensitive skin on his ribs, to his nipple. Seokjin's hand on Hoseok's jaw is the only thing tethering him to reality—keeping his body from melting like hot wax and his soul from escaping and floating through the ceiling and out into the warm summer night. 

"Please, please, sir," Hoseok whispers. 

"Desperation looks so good on you," Seokjin teases. "Look how responsive you are to my touch. How easily you unravel just for me."

Hoseok feels frustrated, like a live wire flooded with electricity. Never has he wanted anything so badly—no, not want, need. He needs to be touched—needs to be kissed and fucked and devoured before he explodes. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok mutters on the verge of tears. The collar is heavy around his throat, and he wants Seokjin to claim him. "Please, please."

Seokjin leans over Hoseok, grips onto his jaw tight enough to make Hoseok whimper, and licks over his lips in a long, slow motion. Hoseok moans, feeling pleasure burst and bloom through him while his mouth falls as slack as it can in his grasp. He needs more. More, more, more. 

"Please, sir," Hoseok tries, "I've been so good."

A soft smile plays at Seokjin's lips for a split moment, then turns cruel as Seokjin glares down at Hoseok. He opens his mouth and slowly allows a dribble of spit to fall from his mouth onto Hoseok's, and Hoseok darts out his tongue to catch it. 

"You have been so good, haven't you?" 

Seokjin's fingertips dance over Hoseok's clavicle and shoulder, and down his back. The skin is especially sensitive on his back, and Hoseok whines and gasps as pain and pleasure blend beautifully with every touch.  

"Yes, sir."

Hoseok's chest heaves. His heart pounds, and he steadies himself with both hands against the mattress beside him. His back bows as if he is offering himself to Seokjin—waiting for more. 

Seokjin releases Hoseok's jaw and repositions himself on his knees before him. "Keep your hands where they are and don't move them," Seokjin commands as he leans forward and gently kisses Hoseok's collarbone. The touch is so light, yet Hoseok's entire body responds, trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

Lips travel up, toward Hoseok's neck, and Hoseok lolls his head to the side, gasping and relishing in each touch. He has been so good, he knows he has, and he keeps his hands where they are, anchoring him to the bed despite wanting to wrap his arms around Seokjin and pull him close—he knows he has to keep being good if he doesn't want this to stop. 

The hand on Hoseok's back opens, fingers flayed, and he gently tugs Hoseok closer, gripping onto sore skin as his soft, moist lips tease Hoseok's neck. Hoseok mewls and gasps, and his neglected cock twitches and leaks in his briefs.

"Please, sir," Hoseok whispers.

"Am I not kissing you, fawn?" Seokjin teases, grazing his teeth over Hoseok's throat just above the collar and nipping at the skin. 

Hoseok feels driven mad by desire, as if slowly and carefully, Seokjin is pulling him apart and plucking away all semblance of sanity he may have. Keeping his hands in place proves more and more difficult, and he fists the comforter tightly so that he won't let go, whispering, "Please," over and over again like a prayer. 

Hands find Hoseok's shoulders, and Seokjin leans back just enough to make Hoseok open his eyes and search for him—enough to make him wonder why Seokjin has stopped kissing and nipping at his skin. Seokjin's eyes are dark and hungry, and they burn through Hoseok, making him squirm. 

"You really are the perfect submissive," Seokjin praises in a voice so deep, Hoseok fears he may drown.

"Thank you, sir," Hoseok whimpers. 

A smirk pulls at Seokjin's pouty lips. "I've barely touched you with my hands, and you're so pliant and eager for me." 

Seokjin leans in close, ghosting hot breath over Hoseok's face as he says, "Just imagine how good you'll be when I fuck you."

Hoseok can't help the needy groan that falls from his lips; never has he been this turned on before. "Please, sir, please," he whines, gripping the blanket so tightly his hands ache. 

"Relax, fawn," Seokjin coos with a smile, and Hoseok melts like honey, releasing his hold on the comforter and letting his shoulders fall. 

Seokjin kisses Hoseok's jaw, and Hoseok trembles, smiling beneath the touch. Perhaps this could be enough, Hoseok tells himself. This eager yet tamed bliss in Seokjin's hold could be enough. He feels good, cared for and praised; perhaps he doesn't need more. 

But he craves more—he craves it so fucking badly.

Seokjin flicks his tongue over Hoseok's bottom lip and sucks it gently between his teeth, and every nerve on Hoseok's body sings to life—he is certain he has never needed anything more as Seokjin hums a pleased sound, making Hoseok moan, low and charged, as his eyelashes flutter. Gently, Seokjin's arms wrap around Hoseok's back, pinning his arms to his sides, and Seokjin licks into his mouth, exploring and tasting and pulling more sounds from Hoseok's throat. 

Hoseok kisses back—twists his tongue in a gentle game of tug of war, eager to taste and explore the semi-sweet cavern between Seokjin's lips. Both men moan, and Seokjin pulls Hoseok close, causing his palms to lift from the bed. 

"You taste so sweet, fawn," Seokjin groans against Hoseok's lips. “Do I detect strawberry lip gloss?”

Hoseok’s cheeks warm as he mutters, "Yes. Thank you, sir." 

"Did you get bottom ready before coming to the club tonight?"

Hoseok's eyes open wide, and he nods, first humming a pitchy "uh-huh" before quickly remembering his place and muttering, "Y-yes, sir."

Seokjin grins and says in a deep, mocking tone, "My slutty little fawn prepped himself to get fucked tonight, hmm?"

"Yes, sir."

"Just cleaned, or did you stretch yourself too?"

"No, sir. Just cleaned."

"Good. I was hoping I would get to stretch you. Let's have a look, then, shall we?" Seokjin says, releasing his hold around Hoseok. 

"S-sir?" Hoseok stammers, leaning back against his hands. 

Seokjin cocks an eyebrow and says, "Stand and bend over the bed for me," in a rich, commanding tone.

Hoseok fumbles, practically falling back as he attempts to move with so little space to do so. Seokjin doesn't back up or give him leg room, and he ends up scooting back, twisting around, and sliding off the side of the mattress. He spins and bends over the edge of the bed with his face down and ass in the air, and suddenly, he feels nervous. 

In the past, sex has simply happened. His partner stretched him out, or he stretched them out, and everything transpired rather mechanically without any fanfare or need for discussion. But now, Seokjin is getting off the bed to stand beside him after telling him that he wants to have a look at him, and worry begins to crawl up Hoseok's throat.

Delicate fingertips dance across Hoseok's shoulders, down his back, and he trembles under the touch. His skin no longer feels as hot, but there are spots that are more sensitive than others, and he jolts involuntarily as Seokjin lightly teases those areas. He lets out a deep exhale, almost forgetting his worries, but then Seokjin's fingers snake below the hem of Hoseok's briefs and slowly tug down, and his heart begins to pound. 

Hoseok lifts his hips so Seokjin can pull the briefs over his hard cock, and Seokjin leaves the garment just under Hoseok's ass, around his thighs. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as Seokjin's warm hands firmly grab his buttcheeks and give them a light squeeze, causing Hoseok to gasp. 

"So pretty," Seokjin groans as his hands rub up to Hoseok's lower back and back down again. "And all for me."

Seokjin's words calm and reassure Hoseok enough to relax against the mattress. "All for you, sir," he mutters. 

One of Seokjin's hands lifts and crashes down, spanking Hoseok hard and loud. Hoseok jolts and moans a pitchy, pained sound, clawing at the comforter below him as his cock digs into the mattress. Seokjin rubs over the spot, soothing the pain, then smacks Hoseok again, just as hard as before, and Hoseok muffles his scream against the bed and trembles hard in Seokjin's touch.

"Color, fawn?"

Hoseok hesitates and almost says yellow, but as the pain from the spankings settles over him, he decides he wants more. "Green, sir."

Seokjin removes his other hand from Hoseok, and he seems to change positions. Hoseok can't tell what he is doing, and he doesn't want to look—he only wants to find out through touch what Seokjin has in store for him.

A hand squeezes the cheek that hasn't been spanked, then rubs over the skin before lifting, crashing in a loud smack, and squeezing again. It hurts and feels so good, and Hoseok moans and drools against the deep blue blanket. Another spanking crashes against the other cheek, sore and stinging, and Hoseok pushes out a shattered, soundless breath.

"Color?"

"Green, sir," Hoseok rasps.

Seokjin spanks more, alternating softer smacks with just the tips of his fingers and full, open-handed smacks that force Hoseok to squirm against the bed. He rubs and spanks and squeezes in no discernable pattern, surprising Hoseok with each movement, just as before. It is dizzying, and Hoseok pants and drools, eager for more. 

Without warning, Seokjin shoves Hoseok's briefs to his ankles, spreads his legs, forcing Hoseok to stumble out of the garment with one foot, and he rubs his hands up the backs of Hoseok's thighs and spreads his ass wide. He must be on his knees as his tongue comes from below, over Hoseok's balls, along his perineum and across his rim. 

A deep, shattered moan tumbles from Hoseok's throat. Seokjin's tongue is warm, wet heaven, and Hoseok whimpers expletives as Seokjin twists his tongue over Hoseok's ass, teasing his hole with a rich, hungry groan. He grips onto the comforter and moans as pleasure rocks through him at an intoxicating speed. 

"You taste so good, fawn," Seokjin groans as he nips at Hoseok's skin, squeezing his ass. 

"Thank you, sir," Hoseok moans. "F-feels so good."

Seokjin groans and rubs his hands slowly over Hoseok's thighs. "Is that right, pet? You like the way I lick your tight little asshole?"

Nobody has ever spoken to Hoseok this way before. It is exhilarating despite making Hoseok want to curl in on himself and hide his blushing cheeks. He loves it. 

His voice is meek as he pants, "Yes, sir."

Seokjin's hands slide back to Hoseok's ass and spread him wide, and Hoseok holds his breath in anticipation. The tip of Seokjin's tongue teases his rim, drawing small circles over the puckered skin, then dips inside and stretches him ever so gently. 

"F-f-fuck," Hoseok moans, letting out a breath he held in. His body sinks further into the mattress as pleasure unravels its fiery tendrils and grips him tightly. How foolish he was to think he had been on the brink of being consumed by the blaze earlier when the glorious depths of hell were awaiting him. 

Seokjin eats Hoseok's ass like a man starved, alternating lapping over his hole in sloppy, hungry motions and plunging his tongue in, only to swirl around inside him before pulling out. One of Seokjin's hands crashes down on Hoseok's ass, and he chokes out a sob, overwhelmed by how good he feels. Hoseok moans and trembles as the threat of orgasm looms over him.

"Fuck," Hoseok whines, "I could cum like this."

"You could, hmm?" Seokjin groans, pulling back enough to make Hoseok feel desperate. 

Then, Seokjin blows a teasing stream of air against Hoseok's hole, forcing a shiver down his back, and he chuckles and says, "Then perhaps I should make you cum," and dives back in.

This time, Seokjin's movements are not sloppy as he licks and penetrates, building Hoseok's pleasure faster than before. Hoseok's hips rut, rubbing his cock against the mattress and sending sparks of arousal shooting through him. Although there is some friction caused by the comforter, Hoseok has never cum untouched before, and he is shocked that he is getting so close, so easily. 

A hand crashes down on Hoseok's ass, and he sobs as his body quakes and his hips buck. The pressure on his cock is overwhelming, and he feels so close to orgasm, all he can do is lay pliant as the feeling builds. 

"S-so close, sir," Hoseok moans, gripping onto the comforter. 

Seokjin groans and smacks Hoseok's ass, then squeezes it, over and over while his lips and tongue ensnare Hoseok further and further into the depths of pleasure. Hoseok feels nervous about just shooting his load on the blanket, but Seokjin hasn't slowed or stopped or given any further instruction, so he continues to allow himself to be wholly overwhelmed. As Seokjin squeezes Hoseok's ass and spears him on his tongue, Hoseok's hips shake just hard enough to push him over the edge.

"F-fuck, sir, I'm c-cum—ahhh—"

Stars burst behind Hoseok's eyes as he sprays his release onto the comforter, smearing it on his tummy. Seokjin licks Hoseok's rim in slow, long laps as he rides his high. Once the trembling begins to subside, and Hoseok's moans fade into panting, Seokjin's hands and mouth leave his skin—leave him bent over the bed sticky with his own cum. 

"Stand, fawn," Seokjin instructs.

Hoseok's chest heaves as he pushes off the bed, anchored on his palms as he finds his balance to stand. There is movement and rustling around to Hoseok's right, near the bedside table, and Hoseok rolls his head, stretching his neck, with his eyes closed. 

"Turn around," Seokjin instructs.

"Yes, sir," Hoseok mutters as he turns. 

Seokjin is still fully clothed, and he stands before Hoseok with a bottle of lube in his hand and his chin slick with drool. Seokjin glances at Hoseok's cum-smeared tummy and smirks.

"Your pathetic cock made a mess, fawn," Seokjin teases as he steps closer. 

"Sorry, sir," Hoseok responds softly.

Seokjin smirks. "You'll just have to make it up to me."

"H-how, sir?"

Seokjin tosses the bottle of lube to the bed and gently takes Hoseok's chin in both hands, pulling him into a slow, deep kiss. Hoseok can taste tangy hints of himself on Seokjin's tongue, and he moans as Seokjin licks and sucks and claims his mouth. 

"Ready for more, fawn?" Seokjin groans against Hoseok's lips.

Seokjin never answered Hoseok's question, but he nods in shallow movements, anyway. "Yes, sir."

"That's my greedy little slut. Down on your knees, fawn."

Hoseok's breath hitches, and he mutters, "Yes, sir," as he sinks down to his knees. 

"Have you sucked a cock before, fawn?" 

"Yes, sir."

"Have you had your face fucked?"

"N-no, sir."

Seokjin hums, looking down at Hoseok with a smirk. "I figured. We'll see what you're comfortable with. How about swallowing cum?"

"I never have, sir."

This seems to please Seokjin, whose smirk blooms into a grin. Seokjin palms over his crotch, and Hoseok's eyes follow the movement, finding a sizable bulge in his slacks. Then, Seokjin takes a step forward, crowding Hoseok's space, and tugs his zipper down, and Hoseok sits high on his knees as his heart booms in his ears. 

"Show me what a good little slut you are and open your mouth, fawn. Tongue out, with your hands on your knees."

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds, eyes on Seokjin's bulge. He obeys, opening his mouth and holding his tongue out flat while his hands gently grip just above his knees. 

Seokjin reaches into his fly and pulls out his cock—long and thick and glistening with precum. Hoseok can't help but gasp, eyes widening as he watches Seokjin stroke his length, unsure how he will fit it in his mouth, while saliva pools at the end of his tongue and dribbles down the underside, to his chin. 

"Look at you, drooling for my cock already," Seokjin teases. "So desperate for me."

With Seokjin's free hand, he takes Hoseok by the chin and pulls him close. Drool runs down Hoseok's chin, over his collar and along his throat, and he glances up at Seokjin's face. Seokjin's mouth falls open as he angles his cock forward and taps it against Hoseok's tongue. 

"So obedient and good for me," Seokjin groans. "Greedy sluts like you are always so eager to please."

Warmth floods Hoseok's cheeks. He knows that this is all part of their agreement, but he still can't help but feel shame creep up whenever Seokjin degrades him. But more than that, he enjoys being called a slut. The feeling is so at odds with how he thinks he should feel, that it just makes him want Seokjin to do it more. 

"Yes, sir," Hoseok slurs in agreement as best as he can with his tongue hanging out. 

With a scoff, Seokjin taps his cock against Hoseok's tongue again. Then, he holds it in place between Hoseok's lips, and Hoseok does his best to hold his mouth open as wide as he can. Seokjin's cock is heavy and velvety against his tongue, and Hoseok fights the urge to swallow him down until he gags, waiting for instruction. 

Seokjin cocks his head, squints down at Hoseok and says, "Suck."

Hoseok closes his lips around Seokjin's cock and pushes his head forward, sucking several inches into his mouth before feeling the need to breathe and pulling back. Seokjin groans and gently takes Hoseok by the back of the head, tangling his fingers into his hair. Nervous that Seokjin might try to fuck his face, Hoseok breathes in quickly through his nose just as Seokjin presses his cock slowly into his mouth.

"That's it, fawn," Seokjin groans as he pulls his cock back, "breathe steadily through your nose."

Hoseok has sucked cock before, but never with the intent to make someone cum. It has always been a means to get someone hard, a few licks up and down the shaft followed by a mediocre, half-hearted suck. It is not that he has never wanted to please someone before; he has just never had partners that were terribly exciting. Seokjin, however, is extremely exciting. 

Slowly, Seokjin begins to thrust his hips, sliding his cock into Hoseok's mouth and back out, never so deep or hard that it makes him gag. Hoseok finds a rhythm breathing in as Seokjin pulls his cock back and breathing out slowly as he pushes his cock forward. 

Then, once Hoseok is comfortable, Seokjin says, "Tap my leg if you need me to stop," pushes his cock deep into Hoseok's mouth, and holds it. Hoseok has already exhaled through his nose, but he feels fine, at first, with Seokjin's cock almost touching his throat. But when Seokjin doesn't let up, Hoseok begins to panic with the need to breathe. 

Hoseok wonders if he should tap out or continue to try to hold his breath. He doesn't want to show weakness, which he realizes is a ridiculous way to look at this situation, considering his airflow is cut off. But then Seokjin pulls his cock all the way out, bringing with it thick strings of saliva from Hoseok's throat, and he rubs Hoseok's cheek sweetly as Hoseok gasps for air. 

"You didn't tap me," Seokjin says softly, gazing down at Hoseok with a smile. 

"I almost gagged, sir."

Seokjin bends at the waist bringing his face nice and low, and says, "And what if I wanted you to gag?"

"Oh."

With an amused hum, Seokjin stands, takes Hoseok by the head, and thrusts into Hoseok's mouth. And this time, when Seokjin holds his cock in place, Hoseok allows the urge to gag to come over him. Saliva pools in Hoseok's mouth, and all at once, his throat contracts, and he pushes back against Seokjin's hand. 

At first, for a split moment, Seokjin holds him in place, and Hoseok considers tapping out, but then he lets up, and Hoseok heaves as Seokjin's cock slides away, leaving him gasping for air. 

"Very good, fawn," Seokjin praises, petting the side of Hoseok's cheek as he fights to catch his breath. Saliva drips from Hoseok's chin, and he keeps his hands on his knees. "How do you feel?" he asks once Hoseok's breathing has steadied. 

Hoseok clears his throat, which feels a bit sore. "Good, sir. That wasn't as bad as I thought."

"Good," Seokjin says. "We're going to do it again, only this time when I pull back, I'm going to thrust forward again, so try to regulate your breathing. If you can't get it right away, tap me and I'll let you catch your breath."

"Yes, sir."

Seokjin slides his cock into Hoseok's throat, holds it until Hoseok begins to gag and pulls it out. Hoseok wants to cough or swallow down the thick saliva that pooled quickly, but Seokjin presses forward too fast, and all Hoseok can manage is a deep, gasping inhale. Tears collect in Hoseok's eyes as Seokjin thrusts into his throat, then pulls out, in, and out, and he gasps and heaves and gasps and heaves until finally, Seokjin pulls all the way out. 

This time, Hoseok pants, but he doesn't feel the urge to cough, and he swallows down the saliva that has pooled, blinking tears from his eyes. Thick strings of spit connect Hoseok's lips to Seokjin's cock, and only when Hoseok smiles do they begin to pop. 

"I think you lied to me when you said you've never done this before," Seokjin teases, bending and taking Hoseok's drool-covered chin gently in his hand. 

"No, sir; I would never lie to you," Hoseok responds, batting his moist eyelashes playfully.

Seokjin crashes their lips together, licking hungrily into Hoseok's mouth, and Hoseok whimpers, feeling arousal surge through him. Seokjin's kiss is eager and messy, and when he pulls back, he looks just as breathless as Hoseok feels. 

"I'm gonna fuck that pretty face of yours, and then I'm gonna cum on your tongue; sound good, fawn?"

"Yes, sir."

Hoseok holds his mouth open, sticks his tongue out, and Seokjin stands and slides his cock fast and deep. He thrusts, and Hoseok holds his mouth open, doing his best to find a rhythm and breathe through his nose. Then, Seokjin holds his cock in place, lodged into his throat, and Hoseok relaxes as much as he can before the urge to gag overtakes him.

"God, just look at you with my cock shoved deep into your throat," Seokjin growls. Hoseok begins to gag, and Seokjin pulls out and thrusts forward, holding his cock in place again. 

"Look at me," Seokjin commands, and Hoseok obeys, looking up toward Seokjin with wide eyes. Hoseok blinks away tears, sending one falling down his cheek, and Seokjin grins. "Such a good little slut. So perfect for me."

Seokjin pulls out and thrusts in, out and in, and Hoseok does his best to steady his breathing, but the saliva in his mouth is beginning to feel stifling. Hoseok heaves during a thrust, feeling the sudden urge to vomit, and Seokjin stops with his cock thrust forward, but not as far as before. 

"Swallow," Seokjin commands. 

Although Hoseok understands what the word swallow means, he hesitates and knits his eyebrows as if to ask Seokjin to clarify. But then he tries it, despite feeling as though the act would be impossible, and he not only clears away much of the spit threatening to choke him, but Seokjin lets out a deep, pitchy moan, which goes straight to Hoseok's cock. 

"That's it, fawn; god, your throat feels so good."

Hoseok swallows once more, and Seokjin trembles, then he bends forward and lightly slaps Hoseok on the cheek as he says, "That's my perfect little slut."

This time, when Seokjin thrusts, his movements are hard and fast and Hoseok struggles to keep up. Breathing becomes a challenge, and he can't find a good time to swallow down any of the spit that collects. Seokjin's cock is thick, and sucking it for this long is making Hoseok's jaw sore, but he doesn't mind that part; in fact, he likes it. 

Seokjin's fingers grip tightly to Hoseok's hair, tugging painfully at the strands, and Hoseok whimpers and moans as Seokjin fucks his face. Then, Seokjin's thrusts become sloppy and deep, throwing Hoseok off what little rhythm he has, and Hoseok nearly lifts his hand to tap out and catch his breath when Seokjin mutters, "Hold your mouth open," and pulls all the way out. 

Hoseok sticks his tongue out flat as he breathes heavily, doing his best to swallow down saliva and catch his breath while Seokjin keeps his cock just above his mouth as he strokes his length in slow movements. His hand tightens in Hoseok's hair once more, and he moans as his release shoots from his cock and onto Hoseok's lip and tongue.

"So good for me," Seokjin groans as he squeezes the tip of his cock to get the final drops of cum. "Keep your mouth open."

Seokjin's cum is thick and tangy on Hoseok's tongue, and he holds his mouth open, staring at Seokjin through tear-clouded eyes, waiting for instruction. When Seokjin finally says, "Swallow," Hoseok closes his mouth, resists the slight urge to gag, and swallows Seokjin's release. 

The room falls silent, save for the sounds of both men catching their breath. Hoseok admires the sheen of sweat over Seokjin's forehead and neck; the man is devastatingly pretty. Seokjin undoes the button on his slacks and pushes them down to the floor, then removes his tight black briefs and his mesh sleeveless shirt. 

Despite having more than enough opportunity to admire Seokjin's broad shoulders and firm muscles, seeing him shirtless makes Hoseok gawk. If he wasn't already drooling, surely the sight of Seokjin nude would have gotten his salivary glands going. 

"Like what you see, fawn?" Seokjin asks teasingly, pulling Hoseok's attention to his gorgeous face.

"Yes, sir," Hoseok rasps, throat sore from being fucked. 

"Good," Seokjin says with a soft smile as he motions with his hand for Hoseok to stand. 

Hoseok stands slowly. His toes tingle and his muscles are sore from sitting on his knees for so long, so he lets out a little groan as he gets to his feet. Seokjin holds out a hand in case he needs assistance, but he makes it just fine on his own. 

Once Hoseok is standing, Seokjin pulls him into another slow, deep kiss, groaning as he licks into Hoseok's mouth, and Hoseok wonders if Seokjin can taste himself on his tongue. Drool streaks down past Hoseok's pecs, turning cold before drying to his skin. 

"You're doing so well, fawn," Seokjin says against Hoseok's lips. "Do you need to take a break?"

"No, sir," Hoseok responds, opening his eyes to look at Seokjin, who is too close to be in focus. "I need you to fuck me."

Seokjin sucks Hoseok's bottom lip between his teeth, and they moan in tandem. "My greedy little slut needs my cock, hmm?"

"Yes, sir," Hoseok whimpers. 

"Bend over for me."

"Yes, sir."

Hoseok turns to the bed and bends over once more, avoiding the dark spot where he came earlier and taking handfuls of the comforter to hold onto. Seokjin, however, has other plans. 

"Hands on your ass, fawn. Spread yourself for me."

"Yes, sir," Hoseok mutters as he reaches back and grabs onto his buttcheeks with both hands. Seokjin grabs the lube bottle from where he tossed it—beside where Hoseok has laid his head—and Hoseok hears the sound of the bottle clicking open and being squeezed. 

Cold, slick fingers graze Hoseok's asshole, and Hoseok flinches, nearly letting his grasp on himself slip. Seokjin circles Hoseok's rim with the pad of one finger and slowly pushes it in, nice and deep.

Hoseok gasps and moans, letting out a deep, shattered exhale. Seokjin's tongue opened him enough to be able to handle his finger, but he still has to catch his breath from the sudden intrusion. 

"Color, fawn?"

"Green!" Hoseok chokes out, already eager for more. 

Seokjin pushes his finger further and pulls it out, in and out, and Hoseok's legs tremble from the sensation. Just one finger feels so good, Hoseok struggles to keep his hands on his ass. 

A second finger presses in slowly, then pulls out, and Hoseok chokes out a silent gasp. Seokjin doesn't give Hoseok much time to catch his breath, though he does take it nice and slow, and Hoseok reminds himself that he can say yellow or red if he needs to. Seokjin twists his fingers as he pulls them out, and the sensation is so overwhelmingly good, Hoseok nearly begs for him to slow down, but he breathes through it and grips onto his soft skin tightly. 

Seokjin scissors and spins the two fingers, getting Hoseok nice and stretched. And finally, when the sensation stops feeling so intense, Hoseok begins to beg, “More, sir. Please.”

With a hum, Seokjin’s twists and thrusts become a little more rough as he purrs, "Greedy, greedy."

"Please, sir!"

Hoseok's cock is hard once more and pressed against the mattress as it had been before, and he desperately wants to feel Seokjin's cock before he makes another mess of himself. "Please, please, please," he begs under his breath. 

A hand grabs onto Hoseok's hair and yanks his head from the comforter, and Hoseok cries out from the pain of strands pulling. Seokjin's hot breath is close to his cheek, and his fingers are lodged even deeper into his ass, fucking into him with loud squelching smacks. 

"Is this what you want, fawn? Hmm? Want me to fuck you nice and hard? You're so slutty you can't wait for me to stretch you properly?"

Hoseok whines and moans from the pain mixed with pleasure. Pulled taut like a bow, he struggles to whimper, "Yes, sir."

Seokjin presses Hoseok's head into the mattress and holds his palm over his cheek, holding firmly as he pulls his hand out and inserts a third finger. The stretch makes Hoseok squeal—it is rough, and he needs more lube—but he feels so good, he doesn't call for Seokjin to slow down or stop. 

The hand eases from Hoseok's face, however, and Seokjin pops open the bottle of lube. He squirts it directly onto Hoseok's ass and lets out a deep, sardonic chuckle when Hoseok writhes and whines from the sudden feeling of cold liquid hitting his skin. Then, the hand returns to Hoseok's head and presses him down as three fingers begin to stretch him. The feeling is so incredible, all Hoseok can do is gasp and drool. It is too much, yet he so desperately wants more. 

Although he is rough, Seokjin is careful, twisting and penetrating in ways that never scrape or poke with his fingernails. Hoseok's once more neglected cock leaks precum onto his tummy, and he digs his fingers into his skin, doing his best to hold himself open. Then, Seokjin inserts a fourth finger, and the intensity is so great that Hoseok's body shakes, and his hands slip from his cheeks. 

A loud, heavy smack lands on Hoseok's ass, and he cries out and scrambles to hold himself spread. "I gave you an instruction, fawn. Spread yourself for me."

"S-sorry, sir," Hoseok whimpers, digging his fingers into his soft flesh.

The fourth finger nearly breaks him. Hoseok gasps and pants and whimpers with each slow thrust. And yet, he never calls for Seokjin to slow down. By the time he is finally stretched on four fingers, Hoseok is covered in sweat and speaking in tongues. 

Seokjin chuckles, twisting his fingers in and out. "How will you take my cock if you're already this delirious from my fingers, pretty fawn?"

"N-need your cock, sir," Hoseok mutters through drool-covered lips.

Slowly, Seokjin pulls his fingers out and smears them across Hoseok's stretched hole, and Hoseok whines from being empty, clenching around nothing.

"On the bed," Seokjin commands.

Hoseok scrambles, practically flinging his limbs in an effort to get onto the bed as quickly as he can, muttering, "Yes, sir." 

Seokjin approaches the head of the bed, moves some pillows out of the way, and gets into the center, sitting with his back against the headboard while Hoseok gets to his hands and knees and waits for instruction. Seokjin's thick, long cock sits hard and slick with lube against his tummy, and Hoseok's mouth waters, as if by pavlovian response. 

"Come here, my pretty little slut," Seokjin instructs, tapping fingertips against his thigh. 

"Yes, sir," Hoseok responds eagerly as he crawls between Seokjin's spread legs and straddles his hips. 

"Have you ridden a cock before?" Seokjin asks sweetly as he gently takes Hoseok by the face with both hands and runs his fingers through his hair. 

Hoseok places his palms on Seokjin's and shakes his head. "No, sir."

Seokjin pulls Hoseok down for a kiss and mutters, "So many firsts. How did I luck out with you?" against his lips before licking into his mouth. Hoseok swoons and moans, letting his mouth fall open for Seokjin to do as he pleases, lazily darting his tongue to taste Seokjin's lips when given the chance. 

When Seokjin pulls out of the kiss, Hoseok is gasping for air. Kissing Seokjin is so intoxicating, Hoseok wants more, and finds himself chasing after his lips, which pull into a smirk. 

"I love how eager you are. You're a lot of fun, Hoseok."

Hearing his actual name on Seokjin's tongue makes Hoseok's tummy swoop and twist. He speaks softly, with a smile. "Thank you, sir. I'm having a lot of fun with you."

"I'm glad,” Seokjin responds, eyebrow lifting. “Now be a good little slut and sit on this cock."

Hoseok angles his hips upward and reaches between his legs to grab onto Seokjin's cock. He hisses as he rubs the blunt tip against his ass, gathering lube that has been slathered and left behind. Then he sinks his hips down and, with a deep moan, penetrates himself with Seokjin's tip.

"That's it," Seokjin groans, grabbing Hoseok by the waist. "Nice and slow. You're so fucking tight, fawn."

Seokjin's cock is far bigger than his fingers could have prepared him for, and Hoseok takes deep, shattered breaths as he lifts and drops his hips, over and over, impaling himself a little more each time. His fingers must be digging painfully into Seokjin's chest, but he never says a thing, only gently holding onto Hoseok while he works himself down Seokjin's length.

By the time Hoseok is fully seated, he is gasping for air and covered in a sheen of sweat. Seokjin wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him against his chest, saying sweet words of praise about how good Hoseok is and how amazing he feels. 

Hoseok nuzzles his face into Seokjin's neck, feeling the cold metal of his necklace against his cheek and tasting salty sweat on his lips. Seokjin's musk is alluring, and as Hoseok begins to catch his breath, he places soft kisses against his skin, tracing his lips over the hints of black cloud tattoos on Seokjin’s shoulders. 

Feeling cared for and pleased in so many new ways, Hoseok lets out a contented sigh, certain that he never wants this night to end. Seokjin rubs a hand up Hoseok's back, then gently takes him by the hair and slowly tugs Hoseok's head back until he is sitting up straight and staring down at Seokjin. 

"Remember your safe words, pretty fawn?"

Hoseok attempts to nod, but his head is held still. "Yes, sir."

"I'm going to fuck you nice and hard. If you need me to slow down, say..."

"Yellow, sir."

"Correct. And if you need me to stop..."

"Red, sir."

"Perfect. You are such a good boy."

Seokjin keeps Hoseok’s hair pulled tight and moves his other hand to the underside of Hoseok’s thigh. Then he scoots into a slightly new position, bending his knees, and begins to drill into Hoseok with his cock. 

The air is punched from Hoseok’s lungs as Seokjin spears him hard and fast. Hoseok digs his fingers into Seokjin’s shoulders, dizzy from pleasure-pain while sobs and moans and a euphony of miscellaneous syllables fall from his lips. His cock slaps uselessly against his tummy, and he gasps and cries, feeling his pleasure crescendo to new heights. 

This is what it is like to be fucked. This is pleasure in the way Hoseok has always craved, and he is not sure how he will go back to fucking anyone else after this. 

“Look at you,” Seokjin huffs between thrusts. “Just letting me use you like the greedy little cocksleeve you are. So fucking good for me.”

“Th-thank you, s—ahhh—sir!”

Seokjin stops his thrusts and releases Hoseok’s hair, and Hoseok falls forward against his chest, attempting to catch his breath. Seokjin’s skin is warm, but the sweat between them feels cool, giving Hoseok goosebumps. 

“Ride me, fawn. I want you to cum twice more before I’m finished with you.”

“Tw—“ Hoseok swallows a mouthful of saliva and tries again. “Twice more, sir?”

“That’s right. Show me what an obedient pet you are.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hoseok sits up and grips into Seokjin’s shoulders, leans forward, and lifts his hips. The slow lift drags Seokjin’s thick cock along his walls, and Hoseok feels every inch, whimpering and trembling before letting his hips drop. Both men moan, and Hoseok lifts again a little faster this time, feeling confident about the movement. 

Before, Seokjin merely grunted as he speared Hoseok on his cock, but with Hoseok in control, he moans pitchy, nasally sounds that he finds addicting. Hoseok speeds his hips, up and down, up and down, matching Seokjin's pretty noises with his own as he finds a steady rhythm. 

Seokjin wraps a hand around Hoseok’s cock, and Hoseok’s hips stutter as a surge of pleasure catches him off guard. With his palm, Seokjin gathers the precum that has dribbled from Hoseok’s tip and begins to stroke him in time with the rise and fall of his hips. 

“F-fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum soon,” Hoseok whines. 

“Kiss me,” Seokjin instructs, grabbing Hoseok’s chin with his free hand.

Hoseok’s movements become a bit shallower as he leans forward and slots his mouth against Seokjin, sucking on his bottom lip. Their kiss is sloppy with clashes of teeth, and the closer Hoseok gets to orgasm, the messier his movements become. He whimpers and moans into Seokjin’s mouth and stares down at Seokjin’s nose and lips, hoping to commit every detail to memory. 

“I’m gonna cum, sir,” Hoseok whimpers against him. 

Seokjin meets Hoseok’s thrusts halfway and drives his cock in deep, making Hoseok writhe and moans as his release spurts onto Seokjin’s fingers and tummy. His orgasm is so intense he stops moving his hips altogether, and Seokjin wraps an arm around Hoseok and thrusts into him while his fist continues to milk his cock. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hoseok sobs uncontrollably. He feels oversensitive and ready to explode, grateful when Seokjin’s movements slow enough for him to catch his breath. 

“I’m going to lay you on your back,” Seokjin pants, and Hoseok lets go of his tight hold of Seokjin's shoulders to be lowered on his back. 

Hoseok stares at the ceiling as Seokjin shifts above him with his cock still buried deep in his ass. Then Seokjin sits up straight, grabs Hoseok’s legs to speed them around his hips, and begins fucking into him at a punishing pace. Hoseok is unsure whether his cock ever softened between positions as it continues to slap hard against his tummy.

Everything in the known universe could disappear, save for Hoseok, Seokjin, and the mattress below them, and Hoseok would have no clue. All he knows is their bodies and a level of bliss he never imagined possible. His skin is sensitive enough that it tickles gently against the satin, and he feels like he is floating in the clouds.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Seokjin groans. 

“Th—ah—“ Hoseok attempts. He lifts his arms to grab onto Seokjin, but they’re too heavy and fall back to his sides. 

“What are your safe words, fawn?” Seokjin asks sweetly. 

“Ye-yellow and re—ah—red,” Hoseok stammers with a smile. 

Seokjin leans forward, driving his cock even deeper, and Hoseok’s eyes roll back. With one hand, Seokjin gently takes Hoseok by the side of the head, and with the other, Seokjin lightly slaps Hoseok on the face. 

The gentle slaps get Hoseok’s attention, and he opens his eyes wide and moans, “Ha—ahhh—harder, sir!”

Seokjin slaps Hoseok on the cheek hard enough to sting, and Hoseok squeals and smiles wide. He begs for more and Seokjin slaps him again, then slides his hand to Hoseok’s mouth and shoves his fingers between his lips. Hoseok sucks eagerly, licking over the pads of Seokjin’s fingers and dribbles drool.

Pleasure begins to crescendo, and Hoseok moans loudly around Seokjin’s fingers. The thought of having a third orgasm nearly makes Hoseok want to cry; never has he had more than two at once, and he feels so sensitive and overwhelmed, he worries his heart might seize. 

“You look close, baby,” Seokjin groans, and Hoseok gasps from the new name. “Cum with me.”

Hoseok attempts to nod with Seokjin’s fingers between his lips, and Seokjin slams his cock onto him impossibly faster. Hoseok squeals and sobs and sees stars, and Seokjin pulls his fingers free as he leans down and captures his lips once more in a haphazard clash of teeth and tongues. 

Deep, raspy moans fall between Seokjin’s lips and Hoseok swallows each whole, returning desperate sounds of his own. Seokjin’s hips stutter and become still, cock buried deep as he fills Hoseok with his release. Hoseok wonders if he could cum just from the feeling of Seokjin’s cock pulsating and emptying inside him, but Seokjin pulls out before he can find out.

“Since you’ve been so good for me, I’m going to reward you,” Seokjin mutters against Hoseok’s lips. 

Hoseok opens his mouth to ask what Seokjin intends, but Seokjin crawls down Hoseok’s body and nestles himself between his legs, making his intentions clear. 

With his arms caging in Hoseok’s hips, he dips low, licks over Hoseok’s balls and up the length of his shaft. Hoseok uses the last ounce of his strength to anchor himself on his elbows and watch as Seokjin—who stares into Hoseok’s eyes with a smirk—swallows his cock from head to base in one slow movement. 

“Fuck yes, sir.” Hoseok groans. 

Seokjin slurps and sucks, hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue, all with his gaze trained on Hoseok, and Hoseok resists the urge to lay back, eager to watch Seokjin perform this one last mind-blowing act. 

It takes Hoseok practically no time at all to reach his high, and he moans and gasps as his pleasure builds and builds. Seokjin’s talented mouth does things to Hoseok's cock that he has never experienced, and with so much enthusiasm, his sanity doesn’t stand a chance.

All at once, Hoseok feels as if he is plunging deep into new depths of pleasure. “Sir!” is all he can squeal before he falls against the bed and shoots his cum down Seokjin’s throat. 

Seokjin swallows Hoseok into his throat, milking him of every last drop, and all Hoseok can do is tremble and whimper with his eyes on the ceiling. When Seokjin finally releases his cock, Hoseok lifts his head and arms and reaches for Seokjin in a lazy plea for affection. 

A soft, deep chuckle rumbles in Seokjin’s throat, and he crawls back up Hoseok’s body with a smile. Hoseok wraps his arms around Seokjin’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. 

Both men hum in tandem as their lips slot lazily together. Seokjin flicks his tongue against the creases of Hoseok’s lips, and Hoseok opens his mouth slowly and laps at Seokjin’s tongue, tasting hints of his own cum. 

“Let’s get you into a bath, fawn,” Seokjin suggests, still connected to Hoseok by the lips. 

“Join me,” Hoseok whines. 

Seokjin smiles against Hoseok’s mouth, gives him one last peck, and rolls onto his side. Hoseok slowly rolls toward him and gawks openly at how messy and sweaty he has become. 

“I was going to make us a snack while you soak,” Seokjin admits with a soft blush rising to his cheeks. 

Hoseok raises his eyebrows and cocks his head. “Is that so?”

“And I thought, maybe, if you…wanted to stay…”

The thought of falling asleep beside the man who made him feel such unimaginable pleasure feels too good to be true, and Hoseok nods as his smile blooms wide and affectionate. 

“Do you ask all the cute submissives who you break in to stay the night?” Hoseok chides. 

Seokjin stares at Hoseok incredulously and scoffs. “I made you cum three times, and this is how you talk to me? I should punish you.”

Hoseok quirks an eyebrow and says, “Careful, sir; I might enjoy it.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Seokjin mutters, “Would you like to stay or not?”

“I would like to,” Hoseok responds, dropping the act. 

Seokjin leans in, pecks Hoseok on the lips, and in a deep, low voice, says, “I don’t bring cute submissives home.”

“Oh?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “I haven’t been looking for one. But then you came along, and I couldn’t resist.”

Hoseok hums and nibbles on his lip, unsure if he wants to voice what is on his mind, before deciding he would rather not leave anything in the air. “And when you slipped and called me baby…”

More pretty dark blush rises from Seokjin’s chest to his cheeks, and even paints the tips of his ears. “Alright, let’s get you into a bath,” he grumbles, sitting up. "We need to rub some oil on your back, too, so it isn't too sore in the morning, and so that it heals nicely."

Hoseok laughs, full-bellied and amused, and falls to his back. “Sure, sir,” he says in a teasing tone, “let’s get me into a bath.” 

Seokjin walks ahead to an ensuite just off to the left from the bed and runs a bath while Hoseok begins to get up. And when he returns, Hoseok is standing slowly from the edge of the bed, sore and thoroughly fucked. Seokjin scoops Hoseok into a bridal carry and whisks him away toward the sound of running water. 

“It slipped, but I meant it,” Seokjin admits shyly about calling Hoseok baby. “But  I won’t say it again...only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” Hoseok responds without a second thought, feeling warmth and affection bloom in his chest.

Hoseok pecks Seokjin on the cheek and adds, “Baby.” 

And as Seokjin’s cheeks and ears become a darker shade of scarlet, Hoseok swoons and rests his head against Seokjin’s shoulder, already feeling at home in his arms. 

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Temptation on His Lips is copyright 2022 theharrowing, all rights reserved.

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[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!

pairings ❧ james potter x reader

summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread

word count ❧ 1.1k

additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.

Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.

Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.

Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.

“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”

“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”

“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”

“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.

“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you. 

“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.

“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.

You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.

“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.

James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.

James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.

The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.

“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.

“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“And I’ll always be your girl.”

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alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

#my works ೀ⋆｡💌 #masterlist #james potter imagines #james x reader #marauders james potter #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james fleamont potter #james fleamont potter x reader #james potter #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter blurb #marauders fandom #marauders fluff #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfiction

[cherry-leclerc]

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment. 

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone. 

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true. 

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers. 

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma. 

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second. 

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver. 

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice. 

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger. 

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was.  He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?” 

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

-

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom. 

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water. 

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy. 

He’s a man.

“What do you say?” 

“Sorry?” 

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

-

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.” 

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents were complete traitors. 

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance. 

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away. 

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

-

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy. 

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.

“Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated. 

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.” 

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled. 

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.” 

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

-

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof. 

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of. 

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there. 

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours. 

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola. 

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts. 

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped. 

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog. 

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret. 

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

-

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening. 

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes. 

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?” 

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice. 

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress. 

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound. 

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders. 

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back. 

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

-

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much. 

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable. 

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer. 

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND. 

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you. 

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

-

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.” 

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.” 

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally. 

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least. 

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct. 

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him. 

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough. 

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band. 

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing. 

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano. 

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. “Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips. 

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry. 

“Breath, darling, breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big.  “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once. 

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds. 

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure. 

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours. 

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle. 

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness. 

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end. 

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow. 

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual. 

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.” 

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?” 

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri blurb #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one x oc #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula one #op81 x reader #mclaren racing

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky x virgin reader

18+

Mob Bucky x virgin reader 

If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 

Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 

-

He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 

“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 

N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.

“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 

“Why not, darling”

“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 

“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-

“O-okay” 

-

“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 

“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 

“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 

“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 

You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 

“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 

“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 

“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.

He was gorgeous. 

Gorgeous enough you’d want to-

No. 

As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 

“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 

“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 

“Are-are you sure?”

“Of course baby” 

He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 

“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 

“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 

You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 

“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  

“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 

 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 

“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 

“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 

“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 

“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 

“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 

“I-but-we-”

Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 

“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 

“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  

He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 

“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 

“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 

“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 

“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 

“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 

“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 

“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 

You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 

“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  

#dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky x you #dark bucky smut #dark mob bucky #dark mob bucky x y/n #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky smut #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x virgin reader #bucky barnes dark fic #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes dark #dark smut #bucky barnes dark smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes

[chososdiscordkitten]

Kneel.

Synopsis: pt 2 of this fic ^-^

Pairing: Priest!Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: pwp, not as much church stuff as the last one, lots of flirting, breaking church vows, nanami trying to justify his actions as permissible, lots of pleading to his god, hand stuff, rough (?) sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms

Taglist: @eliuriastwo @ingojo

MDNI

It plagued him. The severe tension ran thick every single Sunday after mass. Where you would sit in his office chair- this look of smugness on your expression with the corner of your lip curled as though you were aware of the torment you were inflicting onto him. 

Insinuating conversations of the carnal sins you would confess to—barely even sins— just thoughts that plagued your mind unwillingly. 

Middle of the third time he saw you- the way your eyes dared to sparkle as you confessed the so called disgusting thoughts to him. His mind started putting the pieces together. 

“Cold showers aren’t working anymore, Father. I had to. I had to rid myself of the hellfire that burned in me.” Your lips bordered on smiling as you watched the Father lower his gaze. 

He didn’t know when, but his index and thumb had started toying with the little fly of his zipper, flipping it up and down—something to keep his hands busy as you spoke. 

“I know that must be a sin, isnt it father?” you placed your hands between your knees, leaning over in the slightest and exposing even more of the crevice of your chest to him. His eyes tried to avoid the tempting ploy. 

Little wired glasses on the bridge of Nanami’s nose as his eyes betrayed him- Unwillingly, they flashed down to your breasts, catching himself and looking back up to your face. 

You raised your eyebrows in the slightest, as though you had caught on to his urge to look. 

Nanami cleared his throat, pulling off the little glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The Bible- says it is, yes. Against the sixth commandment-” Looking back to your expression that seemed even more unbothered than before. 

“If it is a sin,” you whispered, pinching your eyebrows in question of the Father’s faith. “Then why does it help?” 

Nanami cleared his throat for what seemed like the hundredth time in those 30 minutes. “God made us sexual creatures,” he mumbled, trying to make it sound as business-like as he could. 

You let out a little giggle- something that sounded like a siren trying to lure him into a trap. “Then god made me too sexual.”

Nanami inhaled- taking a little swipe at his lip with the tip of his dry tongue, parting his lips and averting his gaze. “How…” he inhaled sharply, “How did it feel?” barely legible, but the words deepened your smirk into something crueler.

A sigh of contentment left your lips, “As though I had chipped away at the temptation in the slightest.” you took a deep inhale- the skin of your chest pressing against the edge of your low cut top and daring to spill. 

“It felt so good, Father. Freeing almost.” You continued, seeing Nanami’s blush spread through his cheeks down his neck in the slightest. 

The thought of how freeing it would feel had he acted as callously as you did in your own desires made the Father realize he needed a freezing shower by the time he went home. He couldn’t give in as quickly as you did. 

His hand halted the little flipping movement on his zipper. Gulping in the slightest and leaning back into his chair- “And your prayers… didn’t help?” trying to change the daring topic he had brought on. 

“If I could be honest, father?” you sat up, pushing your shoulders back and lightly tilting your neck. Collarbones exposed to his nervous eyes with that same self-satisfied smile on your painted lips. 

“Please, be honest.” 

“I think my prayers have caused the opposite effect.” 

Nanami nodded softly, thinking up something else to offer you besides the strained words he practically forced himself to say. 

“Maybe a place in the community?” he asks, thinking that if you and he try to debrief these issues, you’ll get nowhere but a very frustrated priest who just wants to ‘help’. 

He inhaled sharply, opening a little drawer in his desk and reaching for a flier, “Next Sunday, we’re having an Easter event for the children- you could find your place in our community.” 

Placing the little flier onto the wood in front of you, your eyes scanning the colorful sheet with a half cocked smile. “Help serve the food, or just stay for a while. You’re welcome to it.” 

And the following Sunday, you showed up bright and early, sitting through Easter Sunday mass. Noticing that, compared to other times, the Father wore a black short-sleeved dress shirt this time. 

He excused it because he knew it would be hot that day and was getting ahead of an issue before it arose. 

“Excuse me for being so indecent today,” he joked in front of the congregation before continuing his sermon. 

But the little flexes of Nanami’s bicep strained against the tight sleeve of the shirt when he grasped the side of the podium. Or how, with every inhale, his plentiful chest would press against the buttons of the black shirt in strain. 

It made that Sunday even more special. His arms were exposed, and how that shirt was at least a size too small for the man. Tempting. It made you wonder if it was you trying to lure in the tortured man or the other way around. 

And when the service ended- a few stolen glances and raised brows at the stumbling of his words before all the church people gathered at the back of the building. A patch of grass and a few tables covered in colorful plastic tablecloths. 

You did as he asked, served the children and the churchgoers food and waited for them to start their hunt for plastic eggs. And your effort didn’t go unnoticed; the Father would look over every now and then to see you happily serving the people of the church. Glad to see you enjoying yourself.

As though his attempt to help you was finally working- maybe all you needed was community and congregation to rid yourself of the shameless confessions you’ve made in his office. 

But you- now standing on one end of the grass patch, derived from any sort of community the Father thought you were participating in. 

Though it didn’t bother you, making friends with bitter church women was neither your task nor the conquest you sought. 

But when your eyes caught the Father excusing himself from a few people of his parish- dashing into the church’s back entrance- you chose to follow. 

Placing the little cup of lemonade onto the table before walking past the doors the Father had dashed past. Following him to the little cracked door of his office, hearing the light shuffling of papers. 

You knocked twice- pushing the door open to see the Father jump at the sudden noise and the sight of you at his doorstep. 

“You haven’t said a word to me, Father.” you thrummed, stepping into his office and closing the door behind you. Be it the general conquest or how delectable he looked in that tight short sleeve, you wanted to push even further this time. 

He let out a little sigh with a smile, “You’ll have to excuse me- today has been very laboring.” his brows furrowed with stern eyes looking for the pages he swore he left at the very top of a stack of paper. 

“Anything I could do to help?” taking on a sweet tone as you stepped closer to him. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, almost in disbelief. “You’ve done more than enough to help today,” he said, his shoulders stiff from your presence standing at his side. 

“I couldn’t ask for more,” he whispered, feeling your eyes pierce through him as he moved the stack of papers- the cotton around his bicep suffering from the flex of his arms. 

Looking down at his hands. Spreading the papers, tantalizing thick fingers with a prominent vein standing proud at the top of his hand. Swallowing lightly at the image in your mind. 

“I want to help, Father. Tell me how I can assist you.” reaching down to the top of his hand and placing yours atop his- halting its movements and causing Nanami to look over at you as though you were deranged. 

Nanami parted his lips- derailing his train of thought entirely from the seemingly innocent touch. “What are you looking for?” you murmured, lightly caressing your thumb against his skin. 

The first thing that popped into his mind was nowhere near priestly or godly. But he gathered his thoughts and mustered the words. 

“The choir-” he inhaled a choked breath, “They need the lyrics for the service on Wednesday,” he whispered, looking at your low eyes with your hand still atop his. 

“Your parish made you leave an event to look for song lyrics?” you teased- as though that was some lame excuse he made up on the spot. 

Nanami let out a little laugh, pulling his hand from beneath yours and going back to looking for the pages again. “I know,” he mumbled, but you weren’t quite done urging you to be there to help. 

You placed your hand over his again, looking at him with all the earnesty you could muster. “You are such a good priest, father.” picking up his hand from the desk and holding it in both of yours. “If you need help-” and there went the corner of your lip curling with sadistic intent. 

“You can ask for it.” you assured, caressing his hand lightly as his lips parted with an inhale, “You can ask me for it.”

His heart was pounding in his chest—the words themselves weren’t filthy. Were they spoken by anyone else, it would’ve been heard as a simple offer.

But the honey soaked in the way you said it- the sparkle in your eye and the tenderness in which you held his hand. Nanami knew you were not offering an innocent way of assisting him. 

Nanami felt it in his gut. It made his mind fuzzy- made him unable to think coherently. 

It made him forget the white collar around his neck, the years he had spent as a priest and at the center of a church, and his vows—and for the first time in a very long time, his mind wasn’t judging the thoughts that raced inside of it. 

You took a step closer to him—just one step and your chest was mere inches from his. His eyes flashed from your half-lidded ones down to your plush lips. You could feel the little tremble in his palm between your hands.

“I-” he started with an exhale, being able to breathe in the sickeningly sweet aroma of your skin. How it whirred in his mind should’ve been a sin in itself. 

You tightened your grip on his hand, whispering a sweet, “Do you need help, Father?” watching his adam’s apple bob past the white collar around his neck and blinks become hazy. 

The hand atop trailed up his forearm with a ghostly touch, feeling the light goosebumps rise beneath your fingertips. 

It wasn’t till he saw your gaze turn dark- that’s when it clicked in the Father’s mind. That’s when the pieces came together. 

You weren’t some lamb in desperate need of guidance; you weren’t innocent of the invading thoughts that the devil tried to tempt you with. 

‘You were put before me as a test.’ was the one clear thought that broke through the mist in his mind as he looked at you. 

And what he feared most—Nanami knew that if you had continued offering your assistance, he would have failed this test put before him by his cruel god.

Only the sound of a harsh knock startled him from the invading thoughts of what he could do to you in that room—or what you would have done to him had nobody interrupted. 

A parish member cracked the door open- “Father, have you found the-” halting their entry as they looked at the sight before them. Furrowing their eyebrows before Nanami cleared his throat- pulling his hand from yours again. 

“I’m afraid I’ve lost them entirely- I’ll reprint them tomorrow morning.” his tone stern and clear as the parish member nodded- unsure of Nanami’s words as you stood there. 

You flashed a small smile at the parish member- “Father, the deaconess is looking for you.” they continued. 

Only you crossed your arms beneath your breasts and rested back onto the edge of the Father’s desk- too smug for what they had just witnessed. 

“Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Hesitatingly, the parish member closed the door and left. Leaving you and the Father in a devastatingly thick with tension room. You placed a hand onto his upper bicep- the same bicep that had been tempting you for the entire service. 

“I’m available anytime you need me, Father,” you whispered before you left the troubled man alone in the room. Your touch lingering on his bare skin as he placed his hands flat onto the surface of the desk. 

The very same desk he was picturing you bent over in his mind a mere few seconds ago.  

His hands were clammy against the surface, an ache rowling in his tummy as he closed his eyes and tried shaking away the thoughts of your breasts daring to spill from the low cut neckline of your dress. 

Or how tight the fabric looked pressed against your hips when you walked away from him. 

In the end Nanami was still a man with eyes- not even a priest could control their wandering gaze. 

He wanted to tell you- he needed to say to you that he couldn’t help you anymore. That little arrangement after Sunday mass, where you would lure him in with descriptions of the proclivities taking place late at night, couldn’t happen anymore. 

Nanami was sure that the next time he saw you, he would tell you to get out of his church and find someone better suited to your troubles. 

Yet he sat there again, twiddling his thumbs to avoid the urge to reach for his zipper. 

A week of cold showers were, as you said- they didn’t fucking help. On mornings when Nanami would wake up with urge bursting from his boxers or by just remembering the sweet tinge the air had once you left- the appendage between his legs would twitch in betrayal. 

The realization that you were a test made him even more intrigued, as though it pushed him further into your clutches. He was desperate to know if he would succeed in this test his god put before him. 

And sitting in that chair, hearing you speak of the filth that raged in your mind without shame. 

A feigned chime of disappointment in yourself when you fell back into the temptation again, but this time, Nanami saw it was false. That the slight curl your lips had wasn’t a defense mechanism; you found humor in the trouble inflicted on him. 

As though you could smell the fear in his very soul from the chance of succeeding in enticing him. 

And yet, Nanami still sat there listening. A masochistic churn in his brain had him listen to every temptation. 

“You’ve never felt this way, Father?” you whirred, the amused look in your eyes masked by the fanning of your lashes. “As though you started something you couldn’t stop doing?”

Yes, he did know the feeling. He knew once he met you he wouldn’t have been able to stop seeing you- speaking to you. Even if you were trying to bewitch him, he knew in his mind he wouldn’t be able to stop saying yes to your requests for these sessions. 

“Has it helped?” He murmured, straightening his back and interlocking his hands. 

You let out a little giggle, “If anything- it hasn’t. But I can't stop.” taking a little nibble at your bottom lip, “It makes me crave more.” That was the sentence that made Nanami look at you more dangerously than before- 

Now, Nanami knew you needed more, and you didn’t care to stop the urges. 

Keeping a low tone, “I yearn for more.” you spoke- clearly so he could hear. Nanami gulped, tingles rushing into his cheeks making his brain nervous. “For the warmth of another person.” 

Nanami had to bite his tongue- pretend he heard your thoughts as a church priest and not as a man. 

“I’m sure you’ve never felt this way Father. You’re an extraordinary priest- It must be jarring to hear my inner monologue.” You spoke softly, so sure he would agree.

Nanami inhaled, “Not at all. Life as a priest is very lonely.” he smiled, his mouth dry at the words that dared rumble in his mind. “I’ve found myself craving the warmth of another person before. It’s normal.” 

Except it fucking wasnt- not for a man with as much ressolve as he did. Not once in those ten years of being in the priesthood did he find himself craving warmth to surround and twitch around him as badly as he did now. Especially now. 

And when the time came to walk you out of his office, you stood at his desk. 

He took the place next to you in the very spot he pictured you bent over in before. Standing the very same way you were the last Sunday you were in his office. 

Only this time- there was no chatter outside his window from the event. In that church it was only you and him. 

And as though you knew, you looked into his eyes, testing the space between you, leaning in mere millimeters at a time. 

And the Father, tormented by the choice of stepping back or falling into the temptation you had to offer. Your lips parted as you gazed into Nanami’s eyes, his jittery and nervous pupils trying to figure out if you were getting closer or if he was just crazed enough to picture it.

“Can you help me, Father?” you whispered, raising your hand to his bicep and touching it lightly. 

His lips were agape- inhaling as much air into his dry mouth as he thought of the words to say. The only ones he could process; “How?” 

Your nose no more than an inch from his- you inhaled, a fire burning in your tummy and pooling between your legs at his dissolve. “Touch me.” was all you could whisper before he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

Warmth. The warmth of a human he had craved for days now pressed against his lips made his shoulders shiver. Raising his hands from his side and placing one as lightly at the side of your neck. The other lacing behind your back and pressing against the little curve above your bottom. 

His lips took a gentle approach- slotting them with care against yours as his hands urged you to rest on the edge of his desk. 

Burning in his loins was an ache- an ache that grew with the haste he made in slipping his tongue past his lips and against yours. Leaving behind any last reservation he had to stop this before it went too far. 

Whispers of groans took form of small whimpers as your hands dragged down his torso and guided his hips to rest between your thighs. Never did he appreciate how good this felt before- the feeling of tongues slathering against each other and being able to taste you on his tongue. 

Never in his days before becoming a priest did he appreciate the feeling of warm plush skin beneath his hands, the hand on the small of your back lowering to the clothed swell of your ass and taking a desperate grip. 

The one on your neck lowering to your chest- cupping his hand on the side of your rib with his thumb curled at the bottom of your breast. 

Nanami knew that he could come undone from just this- no stimulation to the leaking with excitement mess in his black slacks, just his hands full of plentiful skin and his lips busy with feeling the muscle of your tongue swirl against his. 

But your hands roamed down to the buckle of his belt, being able to feel his ache press against your thigh. Nanami pulled his lips from yours begrudgingly- “I can’t-” he breathed, slowing your moving hands and hearing his plea. 

“I can’t.” he closed his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows; only one of your hands reached up to his neck, pulling his head onto your shoulder with your lips at the perfect angle of his ear. 

“You are a good priest,” you whispered, placing a light kiss on his cartilage and continuing your other hand in slowly unbuckling his belt. The tips of your fingers softly grazing the short blonde hair of his undercut. His hands went unmoved from your clothed skin as he fought the mental battle. 

You placed another soft kiss on his warmed ear, “Tell me how long it’s been since you rid yourself of the poison, Father.” you whispered, undoing the button of his slacks slowly as his breath grazed against your collarbone. 

“Far too long.”

You licked your lips at the image of how much seed he’ll spurt- undoing his zipper at an agonizing pace, “Tell me to stop and I will.” you murmured, your breath tickling his ear as your hand rested on his hip. Waiting for his permission. 

Nanami swallowed harshly; his hands had a bruising hold on your skin as you offered what he yearned for on a silver platter. 

“Please,” he whispered, not knowing what he was pleading for.

A little exhale with a giggle grazed Nanami’s ear, “I need to hear you say it.” you whispered, the hand on your button roaming down the side of your thigh and grazing the hem of the skirt you wore. 

“Please touch me.” he whispered- your hand trailed to the band of his briefs, his breathing hitching against your skin with a mean grip formed on your thigh. 

The gasp that left his lips bordered on a whimper as your fingers dipped into his briefs, being able to feel how hard he was immediately. Wasting no time in pulling out his strained desire as he held you closer, bracing for what he had asked for. 

Taking a light hand as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft- heavy and hot in your palm as he inhaled sharply. “You are a good man, Father,” you whispered, starting slow strokes at his crying cock. 

“You deserve to be helped,” 

“To be touched.”

His strained cock threatened to release his mess right then and there- the scent of you filling his nose with the slow strokes of your wrist, added with your assuring words; Nanami swore he was about to. 

But your hand didn’t let him, cutting your strokes short right before you could roll over his cockhead. Opening your mouth and placing your lips onto his neck, lightly lapping at the skin- his groans deepening in response.

Pulling his forehead from your shoulder, pressing his lips onto yours again in urge- Nanami wanted to do as you had asked. He wanted to touch you. But his hands couldn’t focus on anything other than groping at whatever body part he could find. 

His lips moving in unpatterned movements against yours- speeding up the pace of your hand and feeling his groans rumble onto your lips. Your eyes half-lidded and watching the little sheen of sweat form at his blonded hairline. 

Amused at how worked up he was from a few strokes- but your hand isn’t moving fast enough for him. Nanami started bucking his hips into your hand with urge. His balls clenched as he felt the estranged feeling of an orgasm build. 

His nose huffed out strained breaths as his kisses became sloppy, tightening the grip of your hand and watching his brows pinch together. Pulling his lips from you and letting out a drawn out groan. 

Nanami’s hips stuttering as his orgasm rolled over him in hot waves. Oozes of his seed coating your fingers with every thrust he made. And it was so fucking much- it made you regret not hiking your skirt up and taking it inside wether than on your hand.

His breathing was coarse as your wrist assisted in riding him down, kissing softly at your exposed collarbone as his still-hard cock pulsed in your hand. Making you wonder just how backed up he really was. 

As though his hand heard your thoughts, they reached down to the hem of your skirt and started hiking it up. You looked into his eyes—dark and full of want, with a goal shimmering in them. 

Smiling softly, “Father-” you teased, feeling his strong hands grip your bare thighs before roaming back to the little zipper of your top and undoing it slowly, wasting no time in unclasping the band of your bra along with it. 

Pulling back and looking at you- bare and as he had pictured you. 

Nanami didn’t have a thought in his mind- completely mush and with only one goal in mind. Guiding you to lay back on the desk, his hands roaming down to your thighs- being able to see the growing dark spot of your lace panties. 

Your skirt bunched up at your hips as he reached a hand up to his collar. Pulling it off and closing his eyes with a small exhale. Undoing the top button of his black dress shirt and feeling his cock pulse. 

His lips moved in a soft whisper- almost in a prayer. But his hands trailing to the damp center of your lacy panties told you that prayer isn’t working. 

Nanami didn’t pray for the strength to stop- he didn’t want to. He started the prayer of forgiveness knowing that he didn’t want to stop. Some kind of assurance that the sooner he started begging for forgiveness, he would be pardoned. 

A soft gasp left your lips as he traced his middle and index finger up your damp cunt. Looking at the enticing sight with his mouth watering, lightly circling the tips of his fingers onto your perched clit as you hummed. 

His other hand going to his cock- pained and daring to run red from the neglect. You bit your lip softly at the sight, his hair disheveled and an unashamed blush on his cheeks. 

Stopping his prayer and looking at the painting hung on the wall in front of him- a saint looking at him in disgust. He waited a second- as though he was waiting for the voice of his god to come thundering down.

But it didn’t- “Forgive me.” he muttered, placing his fat cock onto your slit. His heavy shaft resting against your clit with a little sigh. 

Bucking his hips with soft grunts as your warmth radiated on the underside of his cock. Frotting his cock against you- another way of justifying his sinning. He wasn’t actually fucking you- so it didnt count right?

But every whimper and moan your lips would make, added with the feeling of his heavy cockhead bumping against your clit made it fucking tempting. As fast as the first orgasm build in his tummy- the second one came even quicker.

And he knew he could hold it- no matter how many thrusts his cock brushed against your cunt with vulgar squelches- Nanami was determined to wait.

But the smile on your lips at the lack of resolve curled into a wicked smile: “Put it inside—please, Kento.” The one time you had said his name—what kind of man was Nanami to deny you such a request?

He pulled his cock from your slick with various strings of your arousal as he angled his tip with your entrance. 

Nanami’s face was troubled, as though he was still hesitating. “Just the tip,” you whispered, smugly knowing he barely had the resolve to hesitate. He would listen to you. 

He gulped with a little grunt, placing his tip at your slick entrance and gasping at the sheer warmth. You hummed lightly when his hips finally pushed in the slightest, pushing past the seal of your cunt with a moan soaked with bliss. 

Unable to remember when he felt such pleasure that made him want to say thank you. 

And as though your cunt was trying to suck him in- his hips didnt stop, “I’m sorry.” he whispered, sinking himself into you and planting a hand onto the wooden desk, allowing himself to lean over on top of you with a drawn out moan. 

You let out a light hiss at the sting of his girth- placing your hands on his back and holding onto him as he stayed still. 

His shoulders trembling and his hips urgent in moving. Even if it was you who was making him go mad- Nanami still had the decency to allow you time to adjust. 

Your breasts pressed against his chest as you waited for his hips to start moving. But he didnt want to, as though having his cock inside of you was still permissable, but the movement of fucking you wouldn’t be. 

“Move-” you hummed, hands braced against the back of his dress shirt with your velvet walls twitching around him- pleading at the Father to give you what you wanted. 

Nanami only let out a shaky breath- “I can’t,” similar to a little sob but laced with a grunt. Your lips pressed against his temple, brushing them against his ear with a smile. 

“Give me what I want.” Whispered and invaded his ear as his grip on the desk turning his knuckles white. “I want this Kento-” you whined, trying to convince him to move- to fuck you like you knew he could. 

“I want you.” 

Nanami groaned at the little clench your walls made around him- “I can feel you trembling-” kissing his ear with a little damp spot left in wake. “Just pull out of me- then push back in.” feeling his hips follow your guidance as though you controlled them.

He whimpered in a breath at the sensation, “Doesn’t that feel good?” you hummed, digging your fingers into his back in the slightest. 

And it did- it felt like heaven on earth for Nanami. And as though he couldn’t control it- he did it again. As slowly as he could, with his tip brushing your gspot on every drag of his cock. And every slow thrust he made- grinding his pelvis against your clit from how deep he was pushing himself in. 

You only whimpered at the slow thrusts- being able to feel the hesitance in the pushes Nanami made. 

One side of him kept the appearance of being kind, making sure to make this about you, whereas the other side of him was yelling at him, pleading with him to speed up- faster and faster. 

Fuck into you as you had been begging him to from the moment you first walked into his church. 

You laced your lips with his again. Had his hands had any more strength, they would have cracked the wood of the desk from how desperately he was gripping. 

Barely able to withstand the sluggish strokes he made- as slow as you had instructed him to. But you pulled your lips from his, want and demand in your eyes as he looked at you- completely broken down and yours in that moment. 

“Fuck me-” you whimpered, watching the urge to make this about you dissipate behind his eyes. 

With one drag of his cock- he jabbed back into you. And again and again- rougher and with intent as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

Nanami didn’t even know what words spilled from his lips- laced with grunts and the crude plapping of his heavy, full balls slapping against your ass. Pleads for nothing in particular- ‘Please, please-’ 

Apologies muttered into your ear for having his way with you, ‘I’m sorry- m’sorry.’

“I have to- I have to-” muttered between his grunts as a mantra to keep him sane.

His frustrations with the chaos you caused in his mind aided in drilling into you with mean thrusts- your whimpers full of content and moans littered with one more request of him- “More.”

And he gave you as much as he had- Nanami had given himself up to you entirely and was fucking glad to do it. His tortured mind had metamorphosed into pure bliss, with his body buzzing in sheer excitement for his second orgasm. 

Grunts with one question- “Can I-” barely legible and laced with the sounds of vile squelching coming from where you linked with him. “Inside,” huffed in the same breath as a groan. 

You huffed a happy exhale- glad he wanted to spill himself inside of you. 

“F-fill m-” was all you managed before he took on a rougher pace- pounding into you as though he was made for it. His skin burned beneath the black clothing and pressing his lips onto yours again. Barely able to kiss you- pearly teeth clashing against yours at every turn of his head. 

The joint groan that left you both when he halted his thrusts- burrowed deep inside of you as your walls clenched around him. Shallow pumps were all he gave before searing, thick seed spilled inside of you. 

Shakingly breathing against your lips as he eased down the pinnacle of his second orgasm. Thinking the realization of what he had done would hit him like thunderous fear- but it didn’t. 

In the moment of the afterglow bliss, Nanami didn’t care what happened after this. He knew in his marrow that this was worth it—you were worth it. 

Even if he had failed the test sent down by his god, Nanami knew he would never have found anything or anyone that gave him half as much serenity. 

Not in the years he had spent in the priesthood did he find half as much peace as he did now. Balls deep in the coated walls of your cunt in the office meant for a godly man. 

That’s what peace was to Nanami at that moment. 

-

(a.n) this was very hot to write ^-^

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[luviestarz]

lee heeseung fic recs!

♥︎ "mind saying that again?" (heeseung x reader) - @heeliopheelia

♥︎ — RACING, BEATING. - @wonlovie (You didn’t mean to show up to one of the most important meetings of your year completely hungover. No, in reality you would have preferred being sober when you met the man your father was marrying you off to. But how could you resist those dark eyes and plump lips that tempted you on your final night of freedom?)

♥︎ VERBOTEN - LEE HEESEUNG [complete] - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.)

♥︎ last time - @hees-mine (After giving into temptation, there was no end. The guilt was slowly started to fade, and you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into the pit of lust for your best friend's father.)

♥︎ boring, draining, tedious, company party- lee heeseung - @boydepartment

♥︎ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 — SURPRISE 이희승 - @karinasbaby (jaeyun pitched you one of his “genius” plans to celebrate heeseung’s birthday— but how will heeseung take it?)

♥︎ rude | lhs - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

♥︎ EX-BOYFRIEND TEXTS W/ HEESEUNG - @fakeuwus

♥︎ WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS - @jaylver (who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.)

♥︎ TASTE ⎯⎯ l. heeseung - @goldenhypen

♥︎ BLOODBAG - @myonos (IN WHICH you are a princess betrothed to the vampire prince of the most feared kingdom in the world.)

♥︎ hee seeing you wear another members hoodie - @delcakoo

♥︎ chapstick challenge - @jaeyunverse (the chapstick challenge is just an excuse for you to get heeseung to kiss you. thankfully, he’s more than happy to oblige.)

♥︎ HIS CHEERLEADER - @nishions (You and Heeseung are friends with benefits. But, why did you have such an effect on him?)

♥︎ 𐙚 NECESSARY LOVE - LHS - @lilacnini (you realized you were in love with heeseung the whole time)

♥︎ golden boy - @jayflrt (in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.)

♥︎ won't let you go (this time) - @zreamy (back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :()

♥︎ hopeless ☆ heeseung lee - @star-sim (absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye.)

♥︎🔖 、FOUND HOME - @kyrjnie

#enhypen #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fic recs #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fic recs #enhypen masterlist #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fics #enhypen recs #park jongseong #jay park #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #enhypen fic rec #heeseung fic rec

[gubsbuubs]

It’s Mutual

(Throphy Wife Pt.2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Smut; Creampie; Choking; Dirty talk.

Summary: This is Part 2. of my first post Trophy Wife: When an unsub targets trophy wives, (Y/N) is asked to go undercover with her nemesis, Spencer Reid, posing as a couple to lure the killer. After a figth that proceeded the misson Spencer and (Y/N) give in to the temptation.

Preview: He looked at me and said, "Please, we're not even friends," and then he laughed. "We're just coworkers who despise each other... and normally I can't stand being around you, but right now, I just want to be inside you." He grabbed my face and locked his eyes into mine. "So please, shut up and just let me do my thing." He forcefully kissed me again as we walked through the room.

A/N: Hi, my loves! I´m so grateful for the love my first ever fic got. As I said, this is the second part, but you can read it as a standalone. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated.🍒

My requests are open!

Previously:

"Oh, right, I wasn't aware this situation called for a 'white knight' to swoop in and save me from myself," I said. "Since when did my safety become your problem?"

"Since the moment we met, you stubborn brat," Spencer snapped back.

"Since the moment we met? That's so much bullshit. Since when did you care about my safety so much?" I pointed it out. "You've never shown me any compassion before, so why now?”.

And then, suddenly, his lips were on mine, my back pressed to the door with a thud. I felt the heat of his passion and the tension that had been building between us explode in an instant. He kissed me with so much force and passion that I got breathless and had to pull away.

“What the fuck was that about?” I whispered, not being able to back away from his hold.

"Since I kissed you in the casino, I finally understood," he muttered, his forehead resting against mine. "All this animosity, the bickering... we don't actually hate each other; we want each other.” He stared into my eyes before continuing, “And I don't think I can go another day without tasting you."

A small whimper escaped my lips as he opened the door behind me, crashing his lips into mine again. I groaned, "This is so wrong," the words hanging in the air, acknowledging the forbidden nature of our connection.

He chuckled. "Yeah, this is so wrong." Yet he didn't stop, continuing down a path that felt undeniably right in its wrongness.

I hesitated, breaking the kiss. "Reid, I think we shouldn't be doing this."

His voice came muffled as he kissed my collarbone. " Why?"

"This will ruin our friendship." That made him stop in his tracks.

He looked at me and said, "Please, we're not even friends," and then he laughed.

"We're just coworkers who despise each other... and normally I can't stand being around you, but right now, I just want to be inside you." He grabbed my face and locked his eyes into mine. "So please, shut up and just let me do my thing." He forcefully kissed me again as we walked through the room.

We landed on the bed behind me, where he gently bunched up my dress and removed it from my body, leaving me in my matching black lace set. "You look delicious" He sighed. "Cant wait to ruin you."

He pressed his body onto mine, eliciting a throaty moan from my lips as I felt the friction of his clothed erection against my throbbing clit. Each deliberate thrust of his hips intensified the heat between us, the fervent kiss we shared becoming increasingly heated and impassioned.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this,” he said while his teeth grazed my neck.

I was surprised Spencer could talk like this, swearing and praising. His words were completely at odds with the Reid I thought I knew. I was a moaning mess under him, and he had barely touched me.

Needing to gain the upper hand in the situation, I decided to playfully tease him, “Who knew you had this in you, Doctor?” I whispered between the kisses.

As his right hand traversed the space between us, his middle finger delicately traced the contours of my clothed core, sending tingles of anticipation through my body.

"It's Spencer,” he replied nonchalantly.

“What?” I asked, confused, barely able to concentrate while his skillful touch continued its sensual dance.

He grabbed my chin, making me lock eyes with his. "You always address me as 'Doctor' or 'Reid,'" his other hand pulled my panties aside, coming into contact with my folds. "Tonight, I want you to scream my name so it's 'Spencer,' understood?" His demanding and authoritarian tone made me want him even more.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped my parted lips as Spencer's long finger gently breached the warmth of my entrance. Our eyes locked, and within his intense gaze, I could sense his growing desire that mirrored my own. It was a shared recognition of the escalating tension between us. An in that moment, he simply smiled, fuck, he was so pretty.

His eyes flickered with a mix of challenge and desire as he responded, "Can't you just take a simple order?"

He teased me relentlessly, pushing the boundaries of my patience, and in response, a desire to further provoke him ignited within me.

"Why do you always have to be so complicated, Reid? Just fuck me already."

A teasing grin played on my lips. "I don't do very well with taking orders, Doctor, let's see if you can make me." With a swift motion I shifted him on the bed, guiding him to lie down and straddling his body

"Do you believe you can tame me just by straddling me?" His voice was laced amusement as his hand found my neck, fingers wrapping tightly, restricting my breath. “I´m still in control Angel, so you better behave, or I won't fuck you.”

"You know you want this as much as I do." I unclasped my bra, offering him a perfect view of my breasts. His hand reached out to caress them, fingers capturing my nipple between his index and middle fingers.

“Be a good girl and grind on yourself on my dick; I want to watch that pretty face of yours." His words were so filthy, igniting a fervent heat within my core.

His dominant demeanor revealed a side of him I wasn't accustomed to, yet I found myself following his orders without hesitation. A symphony of moans escaped my lips, each note drawing his focused gaze. His hands skillfully guided my hips, directing them in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, as I ground against his bulge.

"I always knew you wanted this; just look at you, enjoying yourself as you grind on my cock."

“Are you always this chatty?" I asked breathlessly, my heart pounding in my chest.

"You know you like when I'm chatty." His words came with a confident tone, his voice resonating deep and firm as he held my gaze. A blush crept across my cheeks, a surge of embarrassment confirming his accuracy.

He reveled in the dominance he held over me, relishing the way he held the upper hand in our interaction. As much as I resisted, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through me, a mix of resistance and a strange kind of pleasure in surrendering to his control.

His hands abruptly halted my movements, securing my hips firmly. His innocent gaze held a promise of something far more provocative as he whispered urgently, "I really want to taste your pussy, (Y/N)." The depth and urgency in his voice heightened the tension. I could only manage a nod in response.

In a swift motion, he flipped me over, his lips starting an exploration of every inch of my stomach. The deliberate pace added to the building anticipation. His skillful hands slid my lace panties off, revealing the vulnerability beneath.

As he undressed, exposing his naked form, it was a mesmerizing sight. His lean, slightly muscular frame glowed with a sheer layer of sweat, and the glistening skin accentuated the erotic ambiance between us.

As he lowered his boxers, a gasp involuntarily escaped my lips. “Oh Spencer, your cock is so pretty.” I bit my bottom lip as my hand traveled to my core, fingers dancing for the man in front of me. “I need it inside me, please.”

My legs instinctively parted a bit wider as he repositioned himself, his head now nestled between my legs.

“Oh Angel, you´re so wet for me,” he said, placing an open-mouth kiss inside my left thigh. “I´ve barely toutched you.”.

I inhaled sharply as he traced a long lick up my slit. "Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined," he murmured, locking eyes with me from between my legs.

I struggled to control my breathing as the room filled with the echoes of my moans and the sweet hums of Spencer's lips against me. He devoured me as if starved, his hands gripping my thighs with force. "Spencer, please; I need you," I pleaded, unable to contain my desire.

"Are you begging?" He questioned me in a teasing tone, his lips brushing against my inner thigh. As my head fell back, I quietly said, "Yes, please, Spencer." He chuckled, the warm breath sending shivers through me. "You'll have to do better than that, Angel. Convince me."

"Spence, I'll do anything. Just don't make me wait any longer," I pleaded

My gaze was fixed on him as he descended, aligning himself perfectly with my entrance.The sight of him sinking into me was utterly pornographic. As he slid completely inside, a shared exhale escaped both of us, releasing a tension we hadn't realized we held. The movement began, It wasn't slow; it wasn't patient.

It was a rapid, fervent rhythm, each thrust driving me to the edge, and with each thrust, my teeth sank into his shoulder to keep me from screaming.

“Fuck Spencer, keep going,” I moaned in his ear.

"See how you crave more even with me already deep inside," he remarked, planting open-mouthed kisses on my lips, capturing the moans that escaped. "Who would've imagined you to be such a beggar for it?""

I struggled to muffle my moans, but each deep thrust hitting my cervix caused my walls to clench around him, drawing delightful whimpers from Spencer..

His thrusts became less controlled as his forehead found solace on my shoulder, the intensity and erratic nature of his movements increasing. "Is that all you got, doc?" With a mischievous smirk, I contributed, determined to play with his mind.

"Shut up," he grumbled, momentarily losing focus. "You just feel so, so good," he confessed, "This pussy is so tight, so wet for me, it's driving me crazy." As his explicit words sank in, I could feel my climax approaching.

"Fuck, it’s like you were made for me." His pace quickened, thrusts becoming more fervent and urgent as the intensity between us escalated. Each movement seemed calculated to elicit a reaction, the force of his movements sending waves of pleasure through my entire body.

The bed creaked in protest beneath us, a symphony of our shared desire filling the room. “You take me so well, baby.” A deep, throaty groan escaped him as his hands sought the curve of my hips, drawing me nearer to him. He watching in admiration as my face contorted in pleasure.

I let out a soft whimper, so overwhelmed by the sensation that I couldn't stop myself from giving in to the overwhelming pleasure. "Spencer, I´m going to cum.”

A soft “yeah?” Was all he said to me as he kept ponding deep into my core. The room was filled with the sounds of our shared desires. Soft moans and whispered words escaped our lips, creating an echo that seemed to linger in the air. Every touch, every gasp, reverberated through the space, intertwining with the raw passion that enveloped us.

His forehead rested against mine, eyes alternately opening and closing with every forceful thrust, our hands tightly intertwined.

"Fuck Spencer, I can't hold it anymore," I confessed breathlessly.

"Cum on my cock baby" I came, my walls squeezing him in the most delicious way. He responded, swiftly pulling out and releasing himself onto my stomach. A mix of exhaustion and satisfaction enveloped both of us.

He collapsed by my side, and we lay there together in a momentary silence. Eventually, he got up and went to the bathroom. Returning with a wet towel, he used it to delicately clean us up.

"Oh my god, I can't believe we just did that," I gasped out, breathless from the intensity of the moment.

"Shhh, just relax," he cautioned, pulling me into his embrace, the lingering tension still palpable.

"But we hate each other, remember?" I teased with an amused tone, locking eyes with him.

His facial expression softened. "I don't hate you; I just find you extremely annoying sometimes," he chuckled.

"Well, the feeling's mutual." My laugh filled the room, causing a warm smile to form on his face, and he nodded in agreement.

Taglist: @translatemunson @unimportantweirdo @katscorner020 @queermaxwooo ❤️

—x—

If you enjoyed this here's my masterlist check it out

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you

[fettuccin-e]

Patience Long Gone

Kinktober Day 4: Thigh Riding

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, thigh riding obviously, praise, dry humping (yeah that's right nobody gets naked), Jackson!era, Joel talks dirty yeah I said it (w/c: 1.1K)

A/N: Ayo first Joel fic and it's during Kinktober ofc. I have been reading too many Joel fics to not partake in the old man thirst okay. And also have you seen this gif??? I want to ride that man's thigh like its a rodeo okay!! (For the month I have been following this list by flightlessangelwings!)

He can’t fuck you like he wants to, not right now. And God, Joel wants to, so badly. But there’s no time. There’s never any fucking time.

He hadn’t minded the hustle and bustle of Jackson when he and Ellie first arrived. He’d been grateful for the distraction, for the feeling of being useful again. He’d been grateful for the patrols, the odd repairs around town that didn’t require any socializing, content in his solitude with Ellie safe and sound within the town’s walls.

And then he’d met you. Sweet, soft, you, that doesn’t take any of his bullshit, forces him out of his shell with your sharp wit and endless patience. You, who Tommy introduced to him as the town veterinarian, until you became so much more. You, who asked him to fix your doorframe so, so sweetly, and not five minutes into his work, dragged him into your home and into your bed.

He never truly left.

But there’s no time to treat you like he wants to, fuck you like both of you need. There’s always something else, a threat at the border, an emergency in the stables. He hasn’t seen you cum in weeks, and the thought makes him shudder. He has the most beautiful woman in this entire godforsaken world, and he can’t even find the time to make her feel so fucking good.

It’s one of those few moments where you both are home, exhausted but not nearly tired enough to sleep. You’d crawled into his lap like a damn cat, planting yourself on his thick thigh, all languid grace and allure that has his cock aching in his jeans.

You curl two fists into his shirt, pulling him to your lips, and fuck, this is nothing like the stolen kisses you share in the spare moments you find with each other. This is water in the desert. This is life, not just survival. You’re so fucking soft against him, you scent invading his nose.

“Missed you,” you breathe between kisses, “Missed you so much, Joel.”

He groans, curling his fingers into your hair. He licks softly at your bottom lip, begging wordlessly for you to open for him. You do, without hesitation, and moan in a way that has his head spinning as he licks into your mouth. 

“God, sweetheart,” he grumbles as you break apart for breath. “You’re so goddamn pretty. Missed you too, sweet girl, been missin’ you so fuckin’ bad.”

He lets his hands explore you, roaming down your back, up under your shirt to feel that soft, soft skin. He paws over the curve of your ass, and he can’t help but smirk into your mouth as your hips buck forward.

“Needy,” he drawls, but he pushes on your ass again, making your hips buck forward along his thigh. Fuck, it’s good, the way you moan so pretty for him. “You wanna cum, pretty girl?” he croons. You nod so hard he thinks your head may fly off, but you seem to think better of it far too soon for his liking, shaking your head, as if to dismiss the very thought of chasing your own pleasure.

“I’m supposed to help Maria- fuck,” you curse as he leans down to sink his teeth into your neck. “I’m supposed to help Maria with the horses, Joel.”

“She can wait,” he growls, and he pulls on your hips, dragging you up his thigh. You keen involuntarily, the seam of your jeans pressing so hard, so perfect into your clit. “Just want you to feel good, wanna make you feel good.”

His voice is dark, a rasp that has your pussy soaking through your panties. He’s so big, so broad, and his thigh is providing a kind of pressure against your cunt that you haven’t felt for so long. It’s too much of a temptation for you to ignore. You pull your hips back again in a slow, sure drag, before humping back forward. You tuck your face into the crook of Joel’s neck as you let out a high-pitched whine.

“Good fucking girl, sound so pretty for me,” he murmurs, “Don’t that feel nice?” 

You nod frantically into his skin, hands fisting into his shirt so tight your knuckles go pale. You hump your hips forward, again and again and again, moaning as your clit throbs in your panties. Joel’s grip remains tight on your hips, helping you along, pressing you down harder. Your head swims, tears springing to your eyes.

“Need to cum,” you gasp, wriggling your hips in desperate little grinds. “Need to cum so fucking bad, Joel, fuck- I’m, I need it, ah-” You feel desperate, needy, unable to string together a sentence is you hump Joel’s thigh like an animal.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, grumbling and wonderful. “I’m gonna make you cum right now, okay sweetheart? And when you get home tonight, I’ll be here to do it again and again, right baby?” The thought has you aching, desperately humping into his jeans. You’re so close, you’re so fucking close.

“I’ll lay you down in our bed, sweet girl, and I’ll eat that pretty cunt out like you deserve, fuck, haven’t tasted you in so fucking long.” Joel pulls you along his thigh as he speaks, flexing the muscle underneath that makes the pressure so much more devastating. “And then I’ll sink my cock into your pretty little pussy, fuck you full of me, baby. I’ll keep stuffin’ you full, make you cum so much you soak the sheets through, and I’ll just keep goin’, right baby? God, I’ll make sure you can’t fuckin’ walk tomorrow,” he snarls his words, a violent, primal promise that has your body quaking in his hold as you cum against his thigh.

You sob with the force of your orgasm, curling into Joel’s solid body as he holds you through it, cooing into your ear how good you are, how gorgeous you look. It’s like you can’t suck enough air into your lungs, trying to get ahold of yourself again. Joel never lets you go, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

When you finally regain control of your breath, your body, you can only tilt your head to his lips to kiss him softly, gently. 

“You didn’t get to cum,” you whine, and Joel chuckles at how forlorn you sound. His beautiful, perfect girl, so caring, so doting.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he grumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “When you get home tonight, I have plans for both of us that’ll have us wrung fuckin’ dry by mornin’.”

#you know what they say #save a horse etc etc #love you joel love you love you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou smut

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐄𝐓 !

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ billionaire!scaramouche x reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw content. reader gambling in a casino. rough sex. creampie. squirting. literally not proofread at all </3

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ betting dollars upon dollars with a billionaire. surely a good idea! ...right?

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— i'm gonna need you all to forgive me for being away for a whole month and coming back with a half-assed fic </3 it's been really tiring but i'm doing okay! (for now)... i really do hope that you all enjoy this even though my writing is honestly a bit rusty now that i haven't written a single sentence in the month's long "break" i took. i love you all, thank you so so much for 1.5k !! 🤍 + thoughts on this new layout? :3

he was just another run-of-the-mill billionaire hanging out at casinos, local and private, for the ordinary people and the rich. you just so happen to be a regular at a specific casino and bar called the 'devil's temptation'. you spend a few hours of your day there every week or so, taking home stacks of your winnings home each time you go.

you were quite well known by the other regulars as a money magnet of sorts due to your high win rate whichever game you play, especially poker. your night was going on normally as per usual, well, until a man approached you.

"care for a game or two, pretty lady?"

☆★

"royal flush." yet another easy win on your part. you smiled at the man softly as you layed down your hand. he simply chuckles and looks at you lustfully, "huh, well played, indeed. though, why don't you say we make a... different type of bet this time?" he's being quite vague, you raise an eyebrow at him, "do you mind elaborating?"

a smirk from him as a reply, "accompany me to my mansion for the night, then you'll see." hesitant yet curious, you agreed. but how in hell would you have thought the said bet would end up with you getting fucked by the man named scaramouche?

★☆

"fuck...!" a loud whimper rips through your throat at the way he thrusted in and out of your sensitive cunt, you tried your hardest not to cum. after all, that was your deal, if he came first, he'd give up over a million dollars to you in the form of a cheque. but if you were to cum first, you'd be his, body, heart, and soul.

your upper body had already surrendered to him as your face was buried in a pillow, your torso flat on the fine silk sheets of his bed. your elbows failed in keeping you held up as he fucked you relentlessly—hard, deep, and fast.

"c'me on, don't you wanna cum around my cock, baby?" he insists and brings his hand over to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing at its' softness and using his fingers to tease your nipples. you nod, to answer his question. but of course you didn't, you wanted to win the bet. who would refuse a large amount of money?

...but maybe you'll have another chance at such an offer.

your body couldn't take any more. you bit the soft pillow in front of you to muffle out the lewd moan you mewled out as your body shivered intensely at the euphoric feeling that hit you hard like a truck.

a dark chuckle from behind, "guess you're mine now, yeah?" he whispers before pulling out all the way, only to slam back inside to earn yet another symphony of moans straight from your drooling lips. his own mouth latches onto your neck to kiss, lick, and even bite at the flesh, leaving marks all over from the area of your neck to your shoulder.

his hand trails further down to pinch at your clit, causing you to scream out his name in extreme ecstasy, squirting as you completely dampen the sheets—all the while he began to shoot ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of your pussy, reaching your womb.

not even a minute to calm down from your highs, he was already repositioning the two of you. firm grips from his hands laying you on your back and manhandling you right where he wanted you to be. a delicious mating press. it didn't take long for him to slide back into your warmth.

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ dearest kuni ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ late night thoughts ✰°｡⋆ #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin smut #genshin x reader #fem!reader

[bitchimasnake-sss]

Sleep nonnie again. Is it okay if I go by 🦊🌲 its easier.

Anyways I think it would be a funny scenario if you suggest to the op boys to keep their hands warm by putting them between your thighs. I know some boys would just get a heart attack if you suggest that and get a cute blush

say whAT NOW?? NONNIE HELLO AND WELCOME BACK!! (dm me so that we can be friends ur fic ideas are so out of pocket i love it); also, gonna add ace cause i see many ace thirsties out there ;)

let me warm you up ft. the monster trio//ace!

luffy:

💗when he agreed to this, he didn't know just what kind of uncharted territory he was entering. he was simply not prepared. you had given him such a soft smile, taking his hands into yours as gingerly, "luff, are you cold?" he had nodded a mindless yes because you were crossing a terribly cold patch of the sea and his hands were freezing. but then held his hand a bit tighter and whispered, "i can warm them up for you. if you like?" he was too drunk on the idea to see the mischievous glint in your eyes and the way you spurred him on with your honey-like voice.

💗so now, he sat in front of you, eyes blown wide and lips trembling as his hands rested between your plush thighs. you had squeezed your thighs shut around his restless hands, claiming that it'll get him warm in little to no time. but god, this was hard (much like something else) and he was trying his best to keep his fingers still and not do anything hasty, like digging it into your soft flesh and relishing in the way your body molded to his touches. or by trailing his hand a bit upwards and seeing the way you react. 💗"luffy??" you called out and captain shook his head as he crawled out of that daze like state, "y-yeah?" "you okay?" you mumbled, voice far too gentle. you fucking minx. "you seem like you're losing your mind." good catch! because he was. luffy abruptly pulled his hands backwards lest he do something that truly made him lose his sanity. he scrambled off of your bed, heading out the door into the chilly deck in long, skitterish steps. "where ya going?" you called after him but he rushed out, yelling after himself, "JUST GONNA WARM UP WITH USSOP INSTEAD BYE" did ussop have better thighs than you? you may never know.

zoro:

💚zoro was very stupid, very. he was not the smartest tool in the shed when it came to love or crushes or dating or cooking food or social cues or emotional intelligence or— i should stop before this turns into zoro slander [i promise i love him]. but now, the bounty hunter sat with his face flushed and hands tucked between your soft, malleable thighs. he was smarter than this, truly. he knew that when you suggested that he looked cold and you can warm him up, he was supposed to say "fuck no, get out." because having a crush on you was embarrassing enough on it's own. but you had given him such a gut-wrenching, pleading look. your eyes saddened and your lips fell into a pout and oh god, what was he, if not the man who would let you ruin him? 💚ever since he was a child, zoro had always known that he would die a noble swordman's death. he would die fighting, brave, courageous, unafraid. now, he was sure he'd die from the way you squirmed and pressed your thighs shut. "quit movin'" he grunted, looking away from you as your stared at him. but you tucked your arms against your chest and the soft swell of your tits fell forward towards him so deliciously. he must have lost focus and let his gaze travel against your body cause you coughed, drawing his attention back to your face, "quit starin'." he pulled his hands back, ears going red and heart faltering. he should really stop before he gave into the temptations and pinned you to the mattress to— his voice pitched up, "i-i'm going back to my room, bye." "zoro?!" you called after the swordsman as he ran out, "BUT THIS IS YOUR ROOM, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??" [spoiler: he went to chopper and crushed herbs to make medicine. he wanted to get rid of some of that tension but he failed. because he put the pressure too hard and the china dish in which he was crushing the leafy herbs broke, and now chopper was hitting him square in his head, talking about how important it was to be precise in medicine and how zoro will never make a good doctor. "stop hitting me— OW" "what KIND OF A DOCTOR ARE YOU?" "IM A SWORDSMAN!" "YEAH CAUSE YOU CANNOT BE A DOCTOR!"]

sanji:

💙breath in, breathe out. breathe in, breathe out. breath in, breath out— "sanji?" you asked, a tinge of worry at his almost fainting figure, "are you okay?!" "my love, darling, sugar pie—" the man caught his tongue between his teeth, trying to stop his head from spinning. the floor seem to sway under him, the lights seemed too bright. was he flying or was it the blood rush?? "what did you just ask me?" you look down at the kitchen floor, mumbling with a bashful smile, "if your hands are cold...i can warm them up." his heart quickened as did his fingers. he chopped the bell pepper so hastily that you were sure you saw sparks flying. "and how would you do that?" "you can keep them between my thighs, if you like?" you looked up, "OH MY GOD SANJI YOUR NOSE—" 💙i hate to cut the story short but sanji 100% fainted and you had to catch him before he fell face-forward into the pot with boiling water on the stove. sorry, he gets no bitches :( but you did look after him on the bedside and let him eventually touch your thighs so... idk, a win is a win!!! ["so, is he like dead?" zoro had asked, uninterested, as you hauled the cook's figure outside the kitchen. you were dragging him to his room as the rest of the crew trailed you. they had heard your shriek and came spilling into the kitchen to see what the fuss was about. "did you give him a hug?" nami asked, amused. "hug's too much." ussop snickered, "she probably smiled at him." sanji whipped his head dangerously to glare at them, "i can hear you. and i will be poisoning your food." he looked back at you, "oh don't you worry, im still fainted." he closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on your shoulder. you smiled to yourself, making a note to warm him up later]

ace:

🧡truthfully, how do you ask a man made of literal fire if you can "warm him up"??? you must have not thought you plan through because you had stood in his room a bit tipsy, locked the door behind you and asked a boy [who was always shirtless cause he was so warm] that question. "huh?" ace's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. he stood up to walk towards you, "what is that about? you wanna warm me up?" "NO!" you bit your cheek when you realized the implications of your words, "i was joking, obviously." "awh, i do love when you humor me." he quipped, "it's kinda cute." "shut up." you glared at him but he gave you an earnest smile back, "if you're cold, you could have just told me." he set his finger ablaze, acting suave, "see, i can warm you up." "you wanna set me on fire?" you seethed. "no?!" "why did you light your fingers on fire?!" "YOU ASKED A MAN MADE OF FIRE IF YOU CAN WARM HIM UP? DONT ASK ME QUESTIONS?!" "i'm drunk" you mumbled. after a beat you looked down at the floor, "and... i'm kinda cold." portagas d. ace just smiled, shrugging in mock nonchalance, "we can cuddle, if you like. i've been told i'm a pretty great heater." you laughed, "hah, hotshot." ace gave you a wicked grin, "how drunk are you?" "not nearly enough." just saying, portagas d ace was better than just a "pretty great heater." he was a pretty great fu-

a/n: i love writing stupid things so much. it makes me so happy because i'm a stupid little girl giggling and typing on her laptop when she should be doing work. tagging the ever lovelies: @bokutosbiceps (resident luffy enjoyer) and @help-i-lost-my-sock (resident ace enjoyer). if you wanna be added to the tag list, please let me know (//tell me your preferences and i'd tag you in those fics)!

#anon: 🦊🌲 #one piece #op #opla #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #monkey d luffy #one piece zoro #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #zoro fluff #sanji fluff #luffy fluff #ace #one piece ace #portagas d. ace #ace fluff #one piece fluff #op fluff #ace x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader

[namisin]

❝ TOUCH ME, FEEL ME. . .

⚝ pairing : nanami kento x reader.

⚝ synopsis : it's date night, and the food isn't the only thing kento wants to devour.

⚝ content : 18+, fem reader, soft/pleasure dom kento, pὁrn with a literal sprinkle of plot, oral, car sėx, inspired by this song, praise, a good bit of it, semi-public, he's simply down bad ur honour, established relationship, mention of squirting, some size diff if you squint, overstim too squint real good, MDNI.

⚝ word count : 1.8k | 6.4 min read.

⚝ a/n : whats up whats up whats uppp ! this is my very first public fic after lurking on this side of fandom for... forever ? really hope u guys enjoy it ♡ likes, reblogs &/or comments are mega appreciated !!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 were trying to kill him.

that had to be the reason you turned up to your and nanami's weekly date night wearing that dress. red silk flowed around your curves like water and parted around your thigh like the sea moses allegedly split — a crimson sea of pure temptation that shifted dangerously with each step you took back to his car.

"you look gorgeous," he'd murmured in your ear when you'd met up earlier that night, teeth clenched and eyes wavering with the urge to wander. you gave him a glossy grin in return that nearly ripped his resolve in two, and thanked him in a sugary tone that made his pants that much more uncomfortable.

nanami opened the door for you, as usual, and held your hand to help you take your rightful position in his passenger seat. you sank into the cool leather while he rounded the car to the driver's side, toying with the smooth gem pendant on the necklace he'd gifted you forever ago. wordlessly, he settled before pulling his seatbelt into place. his eyes flitted instinctively to you, routinely double-checking that you'd fastened your own seatbelt too (it would become a habit for anyone after dating for well over a year). not long after, he pushed the sleek button that made his bmw m850i hum to life.

for you, the ride was quiet, save for the muted melody playing through the radio and the soft "clink!" of acrylic on smooth gemstone. for nanami, the rush of need in his head was deafening. the squishy mass between his ears swarmed with the cacophony of sounds you'd make if he touched you just right; how you'd squeal his name once he buried his face far enough between your thighs; the sticky squelches that would fill his eardrums once he finally slid home inside you, where he so desperately wanted to be.

for the moment, the sorcerer settled for clasping a calloused hand around your thigh.

"i can see you trying not to stare," your glacéed laughter broke through (what he thought was) his private musings, making his eyes widen a fraction on what was otherwise a stoic expression.

"can you blame me, darling? i meant it when i said you look gorgeous," nanami retorted in teasing stride after sobering; the corner of his lip quirked as his grip tightened on your thigh, "it's hard to keep my eyes off you."

an appreciative warmth crawled across your cheeks, curling the smile on your own lips further up.

"you should be focusing on the road, kento. would suck to crash 'cause you couldn't keep it in your pants," you snorted. he only huffed a breath of a laugh. his hand strayed further up.

"i think i'm a better driver than that. i'd still prefer to focus on you, though," he spoke in a bassy murmur, full of the gravel of lust he held for you. a particularly cold waft of air gusted at you from the air con, but you weren't so sure that was the real reason you shivered. you covered it up with another snort—

cut short by the warmth of nanami's hand eclipsing your clothed cunt.

a shaky breath blew from your chest. it was your turn to sneak glances between the road ahead and your boyfriend. your hips itched to circle in tandem with his fingers ghosting over your clit.

"ken..." you started.

"hm? what is it, precious? 'm trying to focus on the road."

you would've cracked a grin at his sass if not for the fact that your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth. the heat from your face cut a straight path downward, pooling in your abdomen and clinging to the crotch of your panties.

nanami ripped a broken sound from your throat by digging further into the fabric separating you, pressing the pads of his fingers down onto your clit. even from where he sat, he could see the patch of wetness that betrayed your arousal... it sapped any trace of amusement left in him and replaced it quickly with a spate of lust.

his fingers stilled, almost making you whine, until you realized he was pulling over onto a soft shoulder.

"w-wait ken, we shouldn't—"

"it's late, doll. no one'll see us. and besides," he released his seatbelt, then yours, "if you keep making pretty sounds like that, we will end up crashing."

burying your face in your hands, you almost missed the sound of his door opening.

"coming?" he called once he opened yours, holding a hand out for you.

"where're we goin'?"

the back door of his coupe opening answered your question.

you landed on your back with an "oof," the most jelly-like parts of you bounced for a moment before they stilled. there was barely another moment of reprieve before nanami's lips were on yours, slotting to fit just as his body did between your pliant legs. he licked at the full seam of your lips until you opened up to allow him exploration access. and explore he did — from the roof of your mouth, to the backs of your teeth, to wrapping his tongue around yours. your man was an absolutely filthy kisser, at least if the gloss smearing across both your mouths was any indication.

he pulled away from you with a wet "smack!" and like a lost puppy, you followed the warmth. hoarse laughter rumbled from his chest at your expense, drawing a pout to your swollen lips.

"oh, don't pout, sweet girl," he cooed after pecking it away, "you know i could never leave you wanting for anything."

"now, be good for me," nanami breathed into the heated skin of your neck before following up with his lips. you shifted your head to the other side easily. thrills of shudders raced along your spine at the way his lips pressed up against your sensitive spots. he took his time to work his way down, from your neck to your collarbones, then down to the deep v-cut of your dress. dark eyes, swimming wildly with desire and adoration for you, met yours over the gentle peaks of your tits, the same ones he slowly pulled the silk of your dress away from to expose to the air con.

"perfect fuckin' girl," he grunted. you would've protested (feebly), but he cut you off yet again when his lips suctioned around a hardened nipple. you hands found their way to his perfectly-coiffed hair, mussing it up in seconds.

"kuh-ken," again, you whimpered for him, feeling the telltale pulsing of a growing ache in your cunt.

"tell her i'm comin'," he warbled around the opposite nipple, satiated by the amount of saliva covering the other. as he suckled away, he reached down to shuck your dress up over your hips until it came to bunch at your tummy. you could tell he was reluctant to move on from your tits, though he had something he craved much more waiting for him.

you felt hot puffs of breath fan across your clothed slit, and that alone had you hiccupping out a whine.

"you wear these tonight for me?"

"d-don't tease, i can't—"

"as if you haven't been teasing me the whole night in this damn dress?"

the urge to roll your eyes and buck your hips up into his face were equally strong, however you stayed still and docile enough for him to cave and give you what you wanted.

he always did in the end.

you were almost right on the money, too. he lolled his tongue out to run it over your panties, growing the small wet patch into a much longer-spanning one. nanami mouthed and licked at you through the fabric just long enough to make you mewl, squirm and wrap your legs just a bit closer around his head, all in an attempt to be subtle in your push for him to give you more. impatient girl.

he didn't bother with pulling your panties off; contrary to the way he acted, he was just as impatient as his darling. every soft, needy sound you made only ticked off the amount of time he was still willing to put you both through the agony of waiting.

instead, he yanked the so-thin-it-was-almost-useless cloth to the side, pausing for a mere moment to admire the way your treacly arousal glistened in the low light of the moon. translucent strings of it connected you to your panties and pooled temptingly around your entrance.

with a gruff moan, he burrowed his way into your folds, nose bumping up against your clit. a deep gasp tore its way up your throat at his fervor.

he went from running his tongue along your slit to sucking on your clit, pursing his lips and tongue around the sensitive nub in the way he knew you liked. nanami licked a continuous path up and down, passing between that and sucking the daylight out of that bundle of nerves. he worked a finger, then two, into your fluttering hole while on the latter half of the rotation — that got your back to bow off the padded seat, just how he liked.

"don't stop, mmph! please don't stop, holy fuck-"

he couldn't help his chuckles, more hot puffs hit your now-exposed flesh in a way that made you retake your grip in his hair with one hand and sink your nails into his expensive leather seat with the other.

"'m so, so close- please!"

nanami took that as his cue to wrap his hands around your hips in a tight grip, forcing you down against his mouth and giving you no choice but to take everything he aimed to give you. he didn't let up even as you were quivering in his hold, your body tensed and his scalp stinging beneath your tight fist, nor as you squealed—

"cuh-cumming, ken! cummin'-!"

the warmth that pooled in your belly rushed throughout the rest of your body in waves, making you huff shortly in between wailing, cracked sobs of "ohmigodohmigodohmigod"s and "puh-lease, kento"s. stars blinked in and out behind your eyelids, your ears rang with the songs of angels and you swam in dizziness even though you were still laid on your back. the bliss that enveloped you numbed you to the point you barely noticed just how much you gushed around his fingers and tongue, nor how much you constricted around him.

slowly, very slowly, you came back to, vision zeroing back in on a proudly-smirking nanami. the lower half of his face dripped obscenely, a mirror of the cunt he was pulling his fingers free of.

"that's my girl," he muttered against your lips, "so fuckin' pretty. all fuckin' mine."

he left you to recoup on the backseat of the coupe after peppering you with more kisses and hushed praise, wrapped up in his jacket and curled into a blissed-out little ball. you watched him clean his face up with a handkerchief from the rearview with hooded eyes, and noted he still couldn't wipe the pleased look off his face.

"oh, don't get too comfortable yet, darling," he hummed while steering back onto asphalt, "i'm finishing what i started once i get you home."

#⚝ — lee's logs. #bf!nanami #female reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk kento #jjk x you #jjk nanami #jujustsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento smut #nanami x you #nanami imagine #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x y/n #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen nanami

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?

For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits

**Not dark sorry**

Lady in Red (1) || CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating WC: 2.7k

One || Two || Three || Four

You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent. 

“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing. 

“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.

“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”

Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.

A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship. 

“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.

Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for. 

Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.

Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”

Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”

Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”

“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”

“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.

“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”

“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”

“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”

You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly. 

“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between. 

You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more. 

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around. 

You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.

“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”

You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”

His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos. 

But your wish was ignored.

 “Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”

You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña​?”

“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.

“Open your legs.”

“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”

“Please stop saying that word.”

“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”

“I would like you to please focus on driving.”

“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”

“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”

Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”

“It’s not going to happen.”

The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.

Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.

“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.

“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.

The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”

He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.

“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.

Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.

“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”

One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.

You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.

“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.

You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”

Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”

You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.

“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”

You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”

“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”

Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.

“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.

“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.

“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”

You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.

“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.

“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.

Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.

But he was persistent.

“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.

“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”

“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”

“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”

“No…”

“Why not?” he asked knowingly.

“Because…”

“Yes?”

You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”

“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”

His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”

“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”

You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.

“Just dinner.”

Click here for part two.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one smut #formula one imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

dear spring, stay forever ; satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko ieiri

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it.)

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up. 

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you? 

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes. 

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin. 

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now. 

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you. 

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses. 

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question. 

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips. 

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?” 

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog. 

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you… 

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away. 

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes. 

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms. 

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin. 

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour. 

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. and during women’s history month, too!”

”you aren’t a woman, satoru.”

”i could be.” 

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten. 

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun. 

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this? 

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning. 

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours. 

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd. 

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking. 

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up. 

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks. 

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come. 

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again. a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins; and you smile.

it’s springtime, now, a little warmer. 

(here’s to another year together.)

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #geto x you #geto x y/n #shoko ieiri x reader #shoko ieiri x y/n #shoko ieiri x you #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #sashisu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

[buckyalpine]

As requested, just a little back story for how you and Bucky got together after this fic (Steve cheating on you with Sharon). You could read this as a standalone. Turns out the backstory is longer than the OG fic but I hope you like it! <3

Warnings: Cheating, angst, smut, flufff, comforting, protective Bucky falling in love with you

"It's-it's not what it looks like"

It was pathetic even for him.

What else could it possibly look like.

Steve scrambled up to cover himself as if he wasn't balls deep in someone else while Sharon squeaked, pulling the sheets over herself. You didn't move from where you were standing, still blinking at the flushed captain while he struggled to pull his boxers on, nearly tripping as he ran over to you.

"Sweets, it's not-

"Please don't" You whispered shaking your head, tears you didn't notice streaming down your face, still looking at Sharon's fucked out form, the deep blush on her cheeks and messy hair enough to let you know they had already been at it for a while.

"Let me explain-Wait, y/n!!"

-

You walked as fast as you could in desperate need of air, hoping you wouldn't run into anyone as you dashed down the hall, your eyes trained on the floor. You nearly bit through your lip, throat closing in on itself painfully tight, not noticing Bucky as you dashed by.

"Y/n?" Bucky was on his way for a run when he saw you leave Steve's room, surprised to hear a sniffle as you ran off with your head down. It wasn't his business to pry into the relationship but seeing you upset made him worry, now also concerned for his best friend.

He made his way over to Steve's room instead of chasing after you, his blood turning ice cold finding a half dressed Sharon along with Steve still in nothing but his briefs.

"What the hell"

"I-" Steve froze, stuttering when Bucky's eyes flicked between him and the other blonde with disgust, stepping outside again till they were both fully dressed.

"What the fuck Steve" Bucky's fists were balled at his sides trying not punch his best friend square in the face, giving him a chance to explain himself first. Not that it mattered.

"It wasn't supposed to happen"

"Which part, you cheating or y/n finding out" Bucky stared at the Captain while he sat down on the edge of his bed in defeat.

"Relax, Barnes, it's not like she was your girl-

"You shut the fuck up" Bucky growled when Sharon tried to speak up, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to collect himself.

"Leave. Just leave" Steve turned to her, ignoring the annoyed huffs she made as she collected her things, slamming the door shut behind her.

"It was just the one time. We never did anything else before th-this" Steve's voice cracked on the last word before breaking into a sob, running his hands through his hair while Bucky made his way over to sit beside him.

"Is that supposed to change anything punk?" Bucky shook his head in disappointment, now worried for you instead. "Why would you do that to her"

Silence followed Bucky's question while Steve wracked his brain for the answer.

Why.

Why the fuck would he do that.

You were nothing short of perfect for him. Beautiful on the inside and out. When Steve first met you, he had the same feeling in his stomach as the day he'd met Peggy. His heart started to beat a little bit faster. Cheeks a bit warmer. He mustered up all the courage he could to ask you out on a date and the second you said yes, it became the happiest day of his life. He felt so strongly for you, it almost hurt.

However along with his passion came an equal amount impulsiveness and carelessness. It showed during brave, heroic acts where he threw himself out of buildings or on top of grenades. Now it was showing during his less gracious moments where he gave into a moment of temptation, not thinking about anything else when he took the blonde to his room, falling for the batting of her lashes and soft touches.

-

"It was just the one time sweets, I promise. I've never done anything else"

Steve's desperate voice made your heart hurt, his red rimmed eyes and puffy face were full of regret. You chewed your lip to keep it from quivering, the both of you sitting on the edge of your bed.

"What was the reason?"

"I-I don't have one" His head was hung in shame, unable to meet your eyes while he fidgeted with his hands. No answer would dignify what he did and you certainly deserved better than any pathetic excuse he'd come up with. He couldn't hold himself back when he heard you sniffle, pulling you into his lap and cradling your head to his chest, hugging you tightly as you shook in his arms.

"I'm so sorry sweets, I'm so sorry" His voice cracked again, tears dampening your hair as he cried with you, rocking you gently, "I know you deserve better, I shouldn't have- m'so sorry baby"

You sobs died down to sniffles, eventually calming down to shaky breaths, the room falling silent again. The wounds were too fresh, exhaustion taking over stronger with all your emotions in turmoil. The scent that always brought you comfort and love now stung when you inhaled, still hiding away in the crook of his neck.

Old habits die hard and you found yourself falling asleep moments later, still tucked in his arms while he continued to whisper apologies, begging for forgiveness, hoping for one more chance he knew he didn't deserve.

"Can you give me another chance? Just one" Steve whispered when your eyes cracked open, your body till drained and head throbbing. "Just one darling, you don't have to tell me right now, I just- "

"I'll think about it"

Steve nodded, leaving your room to give you some space while you thought it over. You tried to take a hot bath to ease the heartache but it did nothing. You hated how quickly you had melted into him the second he comforted you. You hated how much you wanted to forgive him easily because you loved him so much. He had just slept with someone else and you went and fell asleep in his arms.

Pathetic.

You eventually made your way downstairs for a snack, unable to fall asleep, embarrassment crawling up your cheeks when you saw Bucky nursing a cup of coffee, seeing your disheveled form. Before you could do or say anything, he pulled out a chair for you, having you sit down and pecking the tiniest kiss on top of your head.

"I'll make it for you" Bucky smiled, pulling out your favorite mug with kittens on it and putting the kettle on. He knew your go to was chamomile tea during late nights, grabbing a box of chocolate chip cookies to snack on.

"He wants another chance" you mumbled between sips, "and it's pathetic that I'm considering it"

"That's not true y/n" Bucky sighed, giving your hand a comforting squeeze, the cool metal easing your nerves. "It's not pathetic. You really loved him, that doesn't just disappear over night"

"I'm supposed to be stronger than this" You shrugged but Bucky wasn't having any of it, scooting closer to you.

"You are strong. Its hard because you loved him. And you still do"

"I wasn't good enough, was I" If it wasn't for his super hearing Bucky would've missed the whisper of your voice, his eyes growing wide at what you said.

"Don't. Doll, in the most respectful way possible, you're beautiful. On the inside and out. Anyone can see it. I don't feel comfortable around others the way I do with you. You're one of the wonderful people I've ever met and I've been alive for 103 years. The prettiest doll too. If you were mine-"

Bucky blinked as soon as the words left his mouth, no. There is no if you were mine Barnes, that's the girl your best friend loves-

"Sorry" He caught himself, cutting himself off, not wanting to overstep, "What I'm saying is you were not the problem here. Not in the slightest. There's no way the sweetest angel I've ever met is not good enough"

"Well, I was clearly lacking something, there's just me and he's the great Captain America" You scoffed.

"To the world" Bucky nodded, shaking his head thinking about the person that he knew from all those years ago. Steve Rogers, a skinny kid who got beat up in back alley ways. "But he's also that punk from Brooklyn who got all excited when some blonde kissed him for his bravery while also being in love with Peggy Carter. Melted into her arms and then tailed after Peggy like a kicked puppy seconds later when he realized he fucked up. He's not always the brightest bulb in the box even if he is the bravest. Sometimes"

"I don't know what to do"

"You don't have to know right now" Was all Bucky said, not wanting to persuade you to do anything when you were already struggling emotionally. He made you another cup of tea before walking you to your room and giving you a tight hug, letting you know he was always there if you wanted to talk before bidding you good night.

-

It had been a few weeks. You tried. You tried with all your heart to appreciate the efforts Steve made to mend the relationship but your mind would always flash to what you walked in on that day.

Their clothes on the floor.

Warm, flushed skin.

Sounds of pleasure.

Whenever he kissed your cheek, you thought of the way he probably did the same to her. You weren't ready to be intimate with him and you weren't sure you'd ever be able to again. In the mean time, you spent more and more time with Bucky. It helped having someone to talk to who also understood the person you had been in love with.

With every conversation you had with him, you started to feel confused. The fluttery feeling you used to have with Steve started to happen with Bucky instead. But maybe that was because he was the one person you knew you were able to turn to. Maybe.

But then you started hanging out with him even when you weren't sad. When it was just the two of you left back at the compound, you'd enjoy walks around the city, visiting art galleries, movie marathons and late night drives. Sometimes you'd both end up falling asleep together, waking up wrapped up in each others arms, only to pull away without saying a word once the sun rose again.

Your friendship was purely platonic is what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself trying to find nicer outfits to see Bucky, adding a touch of extra makeup and finding excuses to cancel on Steve just to relax at home with the team his bestfriend instead.

-

You slipped on some comfy clothes, ready to go to sleep when there was a knock at your door. You knew exactly who it was considering it was just the both of you once again, your facing feeling warm as you made your way to the door.

"Let's go for a ride?" Bucky gave you his signature cheeky smile that stuck with him from the 40's, his eyes sparkling when you took the other helmet from his hand, playfully rolling your eyes

"Alright Sergeant, let's go"

Bucky happily led you to the garage, ignoring the way his heart flipped when you wrapped your arms around his waist, tightly holding onto him when the engine roared to life. He had no reason to ask you to go on a ride with him. You were doing perfectly fine. You were trying to work things out with Steve and that alone had its issues but you were doing much better than before.

You didn't need to use him as a distraction.

You didn't need him at all.

But he was starting to feel like he needed you...

He couldn't think of you like that...

He shook those rogue thoughts away, zipping through the near empty streets, the cool wind making you shiver, snuggling closer to him. Bucky found himself placing his hand above yours often whenever he was at a stop light, neither of you saying anything every time your fingers intertwined instead. Once he parked back at the compound, neither of you said anything, letting the thick tension between you two linger as he walked you to your room.

Then he said good night.

Kissed your cheek.

Stayed rooted in place when he should've walked back to his room instead.

That night Bucky made love to you for the first time. It wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't planned. Your underwear didn't match. He didn't have protection.

But none of that mattered.

It was different.

You knew Steve loved you and constantly told you how beautiful you were but a part of you still always felt insecure whenever you were intimate with him. Like you'd never be perfect in his eyes though he never said such a thing.

But not with Bucky.

You let his eyes roam your body, kissing every bit of your skin he could touch. You didn't doubt for a second that he found you beautiful everywhere. His hands roamed the soft skin of your tummy and you didn't tense your stomach. You kissed his shoulder where mental met flesh and he didn't flinch, feeling just as safe around you.

He was inside you and it still didn't feel close enough. You were wrapped up in each other with your arms and legs tangled together, soft moans filling the room as if you were still trying to keep what was happening a secret. It wasn't right, it should've have happened but it did and neither of you wanted to stop.

"Angel, I-I love you" He whispered, desperation and shame clouding his mind because he knew Steve was trying but you deserved so much more loving. "I know I shouldn't but I do. Fuck, I love you so much" His voice was muffled against your neck while he continued to rock his hips, hitching a knee up to push himself deeper.

"I love you too" You surprised yourself with how easily the words followed, feeling guilty from how true they were. You did love him. It wasn't in the moment. You had loved him from before. You loved him more even now.

"M'gonna treat you right princess, I promise. Swear on my life, whenever you're ready, if you'd have me" He pulled away from your neck, his wide innocent puppy eyes pleading with you to believe him, that he'd take care of you with his whole heart, "I won't break your heart precious girl"

"I'll be yours" You moaned as he moved faster, desperately chasing both of your climaxes. You clung into him tightly as he started to fill you up without a second guess. "One day, I'll be yours"

That started it. Neither of you said anything, not acknowledging what it was. After all, you were technically still Steve's girl. But it didn't stop Bucky from sneaking into your room in the middle of the night. It didn't stop you from sneakily holding his hand under the blanket during movie nights.

Maybe you were not ready to tell Steve yet but you were more certain about what real love felt like now than ever before.

#Bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #marvel smut #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x smut #buckt x fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #cheating!steve rogers #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes #bucky fan fics #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fandom #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction

[earthtooz]

x : NO FEAR :*+ﾟ i wanna love you with no fear !

in which: itoshi rin rejected you, so why isn't he handling your avoidance well?

warnings: 5k wc, fluff with minor angst, jealous!rin, food cw, swearing, reo is reader's best friend, COLLEGE!AU, gn!reader, non-canon complaint

a/n: happy valentine's day !!! shoutout to @ryekoo for finally giving me inspo on what to do for the rin fic of my event - u rly saved my life &lt;3

↳ 5K EVENT MASTERLIST ༉‧₊

you:i’m going to end you. <reo3: i’m too pretty to die ._. you: and you told me i was too pretty for itoshi rin to reject!?!?!?! <reo3: oh... <reo3: i’m sorry. <reo3: condolences fr.

with a disappointed sigh, you pocket your phone, decidedly ignoring the next few messages that reo sends as you wait for your bus. he owes you a million yen for the amount of grief and distress he’s currently putting you through, especially with the way he shattered all hopes you had with your love life.

well, hopes that you were stupid enough to feed into because this was itoshi rin you’re talking about; possibly the most standoffish, calculated, and devastatingly gorgeous man you’ve ever met in your life. yet, despite his detestable personality, you still found yourself falling hook, line, and sinker for the man, despite his insults, cold comments, and dismissive attitude.

maybe it’s masochism. 

now that you look back on it, rin’s rejection seemed almost inevitable. even if you lead yourself to hope with all the times you caught him staring at you, the prompt replies to your messages, and willingness to somewhat tolerate you during group projects, it was rather obvious that this would be the outcome to your heartfelt confession. 

‘i don’t see you like that’.

it’s cringeworthy simply thinking about it. now you’re going to have another memory that’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.

recalling the expression he made after your confession; eyebrows scrunched and lips tugged into a slight frown, was traumatising enough for you to wish for the ground to swallow you whole. his face will plague you for an uncertain amount of time because today truly, was so very humbling.

the sight of your bus approaching your stop rouses you from the crevices of your thoughts and after you jump on and settle yourself into a seat in the relatively empty carriage, you bring your phone out to text reo again. he’d sent four messages since.

&lt;reo3: this doesn’t make any sense we all thought rin was into you &lt;reo3: like DOWN BAD into you<reo3: everyone on the team has literally made bets on you two <reo3: i’m sorry :c r u okay?  you: yeah. just gotta take the L and move on you: hey at least i’m free for valentines <reo3: LET’S GOOO we’re definitely doing something <reo3: i’ll be a better valentines than r*n you: you’re sexier too babes xoxo <reo3: duh!

maybe you’ll let reo see another day. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your university schedule was never the same after the ‘itoshi rin’ fiasco.

it was never an amazing schedule to begin with since a few classes were quite inconvenient, and there’s only so much to enjoy out of your seminars. the fun part about them was being able to sit beside rin and talk to him whenever you could without getting waved off, but since his heartless decline of your feelings, acting ‘buddy-buddy’ wouldn’t be acceptable. so you resorted to sit by yourself in a section of the space you’ve never really occupied before, busying yourself on your phone as students walked in to class.

despite the temptation to look at the door to see when rin would come in, you do not budge one bit, eyes glued to your phone screen (which had nothing entertaining on it). this meant that you couldn’t see the confusion on his face when he didn’t see you in your normal spot and how it merged further into a look of offence when he instead spots you across the room.

reluctantly taking his usual seat, rin’s gaze lingers on you, hoping to meet your eyes at least once. but upon your insistence to pretend your phone was more important than him, he sits down, practically flopping onto his chair with his backpack cushioning his fall. 

sitting here feels a little empty. rin can’t help but think how it used to be much better when you insisted on being next to him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

&lt;;reo3: you can come now rin isn’t here yet

you: kk b there soon

the trek across campus towards the university’s soccer field, although long, is harmless enough, especially since you were doing a favour for your best friend by bringing the soccer guards and water bottle that he left at your dorm. the harmful part was the looming threat of itoshi rin’s presence and your fear that you would encounter him on your way. 

all you needed to do was drop in quickly and leave. 

when you get to the field, nagi’s the one who sees you first from where he was lounging on the bleaches, changed in his soccer gear. 

“oh, y/n,” he mumbles, sitting up. “hello.”

“hey nagi. are you trying to nap before practice or something?” you ask.

“yeah.” 

“won’t that drain you though before practice starts? you’ve got like… five minutes.”

“still classified as a power nap. wanna collect a power up before startin’.”

amusing as ever, he is. “sure. hey, you know where reo is?”

“he’s changed, probably warming up with isagi and bachira and whoever else.”

“shouldn’t you be doing that too?”

“not until reo forces me to.”

as if on cue, a friendly and very familiar voice calls out nagi’s name and you’re delighted to see the purple-haired in question. you can finally give him his stupid stuff back; the ones you’ve been holding in your hands this entire time like an idiot.

“come on nagi!” reo exclaims, jogging over. a smile appears on his face when he sees you. “yo! y/n! thanks for bringing my things.”

“‘s not a problem. next time i’ll burn them so don’t leave them again,” you counter as the purple-haired takes his things from you with an eye roll. “i filled up your water bottle for you.” 

he places his things down before sitting beside nagi to put his guards on. “so considerate even whilst terrorising me.”

“of course.”

“seriously though, thank you for bringing my things.”

“not a problem. i’m gonna head back to my dorm to study so i’ll see you later. bye reo, bye nagi,” you wave at the two, fixing your backpack strap before turning around to leave the field, only to bump face-first into someone.

the apology that surfaces on your tongue quickly withers away when you lock eyes with a pair of steely, teal ones, partially hidden by strands of dark hair. he looks at you like he has something to say.

but you’re not ready to hear it. 

“uh, hi rin! gotta go!” you squeak before stepping to the side and running away, leaving rin to stare in bewilderment after you.

part of him has the urge to run after you. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

<reo3: isagi’s invited a bunch of us to the on campus screening of spirited away

<reo3: wanna come?

you: ykw why not

you: not like i have essays to write

<reo3: FUCK THEM ESSAYS! 

you: YOU’RE RIGHT SPIRITED AWAY IS BETTER !

if you knew that this would lead you to be seated (uncomfortably) between reo and isagi, who acted as the only barrier between you and an-unnamed-man (rin), then perhaps you would’ve dedicated yourself to your essay rather than a fun opportunity to hang out with your friends. 

1500 words sounds better than having to pretend like there wasn’t an icy cold stare penetrating the back of your head every time you turned to talk to reo, or isagi trying to keep his interactions up with rin so the latter wouldn’t try to talk to you.

you owe isagi a vending machine drink after this because a ‘thank you’ will never suffice. 

it’s easy enough to forget about rin when the movie plays and isagi begins whispering little pieces of commentary to you from time to time, eliciting giggles from you that you try to suppress to not annoy those around you. however, each sound that slipped past your lips was enough to make the dark-haired boy scrunch his face in disgust, an ugly, green monster climbing up his throat when he catches a glimpse of how happy you seemed with someone that wasn’t him. it kills him to see how easily it is for you to just ignore him like your friendship never existed.

since the campus movie was scheduled during a cool but bearable, autumn dusk, you severely underestimated how cold the night would get. heating wasn’t the best in the gymnasium so the committee had instructed everyone to bring their own blankets and warm covers, yet in your haste, you couldn’t bring adequate layers.

so after a while of trying to warm yourself up and convincing yourself that you were warm enough with a measly sweatshirt, rin notices from the corner of his eye how you kept rubbing your arms. 

he doesn’t hesitate to take off the fleece jacket that he was wearing over his university jumper. sure, it will be significantly colder without his outer layer, but rin’s willing to suffer as long as you were okay (when has he ever been this considerate?), except he stops when he sees nagi handing you his very oversized jumper. you accept it with a gracious smile and the white-haired boy merely shrugs before going back to watching the film. rin, on the other hand, feels a cauldron of rage brewing within him.

the sight makes his chest twist, wringing him dry as he stares dejectedly at how snug you seem in someone else’s clothes. the green monster inside of rin bubbles in contempt, a being that makes him want to rip the hoodie off you and replace it with his own for you to wrap yourself up in. he wants you to be content with him- happy because of him, not because of another.

you confessed to him only two weeks ago- barely even two weeks ago, so how could you so easily forget about him and move on? pretend like his rejection didn’t shatter you and him when he saw a devastation like no other on your pretty face?

rin doesn’t know how much longer he can live like this. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the following tuesday, you’re already seated in your new spot for your seminar, busy setting up your laptop in preparation when rin walks in. you see him from the corner of your eye, backpack slung around his shoulder, hands tucked unassumingly in his pockets as all 185cm of him saunters towards the seats. however, when you notice that he bypasses his normal spot and walks even further out of your peripheral vision, alarms blare deafeningly in your head.

you freeze when you hear someone take the seat behind you.

there’s a hard gaze on the back of your head, one that roots you to your spot and wills you not to turn around.

sneaking out your phone from your bag, you hide it so that rin can’t see it from his angle. 

you: RIN IS SITTING BEHIND ME OH NO

you: terrible start to valentines day smh

<reo3: WHAT!??!!???!???! fr.

you: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY I’M GOING TO DISINTEGRATE RIGHT NOW

<reo3: maybe *don’t* do that???? 

<reo3: WHY’S HE SITTING BEHIND YOU?????

you: FUCK IF I KNOW IT FEELS LIKE HE’S THROWING DAGGERS AT MY HEAD

<reo3: WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO?

you: CRY???????????? IDFK???????????

you: oh fuck class is about to start

you: i’ll let you know if anything happens

<reo3: STAY SAFE 

you tuck your phone away with fear and dread looming over you, personified through the form of itoshi rin, who sits so indifferently behind you, head propped on his hand. you hear his pen click behind you and you don’t even need to see him to know that he’s taking out that stupid notebook of his since he preferred to take notes by hand. you want to turn around and rip said book into shreds.

as the professor starts the class, you try your best to shake rin out of your thoughts, wanting to leave him behind in the depths of your mind so you can concentrate on this damn elective. none of the notes you were typing onto your document made sense and it felt like everything the professor was saying went in one ear then out the other. curse rin for having this effect on you. 

at least you get to gossip with reo after this.

though your seminar was only 60 minutes, it might as well have been 60 years because of how significantly older you feel at the end of it. the weight of rin’s stare was heavy on your shoulders when you hurriedly grab your things and make a dash for the exit.

well. you try to make a dash for the exit because somehow, rin gained the ability to teleport and beat you there, grabbing your wrist unceremoniously before pulling you into the hallways. you fumble with your phone, hurriedly texting reo.

you: UHH MAYDAY I MGHT NEEE TO SKIP OUR PLANS

<reo3: WHAT’S HAPPENING?????

you: RIN IS DRSGGING ME SIMEWHERE IDK WHERE

you: MY LOCARION IS ON LIFE360

you: I LUV YOU STUPID WHORE

<reo3: WHDJFWIJAIDJFAWHAT THE FUCK????

“hey!” you exclaim, helplessly being pulled by rin’s long strides, shutting your phone off as you try to match his eagerness. he could at least be a little more considerate and lighten up that grip of his on your wrist. “rin- what? where are we going?”

“you’ll see,” he responds gruffly.

your mind blanks despite the hurricane of questions that circulate your mind. how did you get here? is the delirium finally hitting you after countless sleepless nights? you stayed up until 2am last night to make valentine’s chocolates for your friends so maybe it’s the sugar and the sleep deprivation. 

as rin pulls you through the hallways, you think about how weird it is to allow him this close to you again- well, you didn’t exactly allow him, he kind of just… invaded your personal space. but after a whole week of not talking to him, responding dryly to his texts, avoiding your regular hangout spots, and overall pretending like he doesn’t exist, being exposed to his intimidating presence once more is… exhilarating? unreal? 

“wait, can we stop for a second?” you demand, breaking out of your funk when you step outside as if the harshness of the sun’s rays woke you up. “i’m so confused right now. where are we going?”

“we’re going to have lunch together at that café you’ve been wanting to try out,” he tells you with a serious expression, not breaking his usual aloof and stern personality. 

rin doesn’t give mixed messages: no, he gives messages that have completely been lost, fallen astray somewhere along the path of communication.

shifting your weight between your feet awkwardly, you tell him: “well, i kinda had valentine’s plans.”

his mask of coolness and uninterest cracks, exposing all the emotions he’s been withholding from surfacing for the past weeks; jealousy, envy, greed, they all manifest through the helpless scrunch of his face. “with who?” asks rin, tone a lot harsher than he had intended, matching the crease of his eyebrows and the frown he was wearing.

it’s the green monster in him talking.

if you were going out with someone else, someone new, rin’s not too sure what he’d do. determination and pettiness can only take a man so far before his resolve cracks and you have the power to crush his heart with a single stomp, extinguishing his flames in one, swift sweep. 

“with reo,” you confess. the dark-haired relaxes again, his face returning to a neutral expression.

“okay. ditch him then.” his audacity is baffling.

“i can’t just do that!” 

“why not?”

“cause that’s a shitty thing to do!” you say, before murmuring under your breath, “not that you’d know the first thing about being polite.” 

“i don’t care, it’s reo, you two hang out everyday. tell him to give me a turn.”

“you’re a horrible person, rin,” you murmur, ignoring the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

he doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your next step. huffing, you reluctantly take out your phone as a sign of surrender under his suffocating pressure, muttering complaints under your breath as you find reo’s contact - literally your most recent one, to send him a quick message. almost instantly, your best friend responds with a thumbs up paired with a smirk and you almost want to block him then and there. 

“done.”

“perfect,” rin goes to grab your hand again but you retract from him just in time. when you look up to meet his gaze once more, you see his unimpressed expression whilst he keeps his palm extended towards you expectantly.

“i don’t need your help walking places,” you grumble, not liking how fast your heart was racing.

he gestures to his open palm once more. “i know.”

after a moment of silence, you give in, hesitantly placing your hand in his. with a small grin, rin intertwines your fingers before pulling you to his side. without another word, he begins walking, leaving you to merely follow the brutally fast pace he’s set.

you must’ve looked ridiculous to other people. being dragged around by an 185 cm man, how humbling.

the place rin led you to was not too far from campus; a totally manageable distance for the two of you to remain in silence during the walk. you try to bypass the awkwardness of it all by focusing on other things, like how warm rin’s hand is and how you hope he doesn’t mind your sweaty hands. he seems to be content from what you’ve observed, happily walking beside you whilst sparing a few occasional glances over; ones that you pretend you don’t see whilst admiring the cityscape around you.

there are various valentine’s decorations hung up around the insides of the cafe that made you cringe slightly. although they were very cute, you feel humiliation climbing up your throat, serving as a reminder that you were currently spending a day of love and romance, or whatever, standing beside the very man who rejected you. 

this is the cruellest version of a sick joke.

“welcome!” a cheery voice greets, breaking you out of your thoughts. “table for two?” rin nods. “perfect! are you here for valentine’s day because couples get access to a special menu on top of our regular one.” 

when you open your mouth to reject her offer, rin beats you to it. “we’ll take the valentine’s menu.”

“okay, right this way,” the waitress guides you to an empty table for two that was right by the corner. the atmosphere of the place was cozy with various candles and statement pieces to really bring it together, but you have no time or brain space to appreciate the aesthetic of the café. 

it’s not until the waitress leaves that you speak up, utterly confused. “why’d you get the valentine’s menu, we-”

realisation hits you like a truck. 

“-are we on a date right now?”

rin’s unmoving, save for the purse of his lips as he stares at you. you feel a little foolish right now.

“yeah, we are,” he answers, curtly and concisely.

alarms are blaring in your head, the earth is tremoring below you, there are distant screams somewhere in the back of your mind and all you can manage out is a simple ‘oh’. 

“get what you want, i’ll-” rin begins before you abruptly cut him off.

“-no, hold on, i’m so confused right now,” you rub your temples, staring at the stupid valentine’s day menu decorated with pink and hearts and chocolates. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are we on a date?”

“because it’s valentine’s day?”

“well- i know that part,” you murmur under your breath. “it’s just, y’know, people celebrate this day when they like each other.” and not when one party is miserable because the other rejected them. 

“we do like each other though.”

there are no words to describe the shock you feel. really. not even an anvil dropping on your head could wake you up from whatever dream you are conjuring right now. 

“no, we don’t! i like you, you don’t like me.”

he looks away, the tips of his ears turning red. “that’s not true,” he murmurs, no louder than a whisper, yet your jaw drops all the same at his confession. “i do like you.”

“a week ago you didn’t!” 

“a week ago i wasn’t ready to get into a… relationship… or whatever.”

“oh,” you fix the strap of your bag, feeling slightly awkward. “and you’re ready now all of a sudden?”

“yeah.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“the fuck? why?” 

“you don’t really seem like the type of guy to turn around on yourself like this. what changed?”

rin won’t ever tell you about how much he missed you during these two weeks and how it was his jealousy and greediness that spurred him to act on his feelings. instead, he simply slides the menu to you, pointing to a milkshake-‘lover’s brew’, and since the menu was decorated with pictures on the side, you could see what the concoction consisted of. whipped cream, heart sprinkles, topped with a caramel heart and fairy floss. 

“the milkshake?” you ask, trailing off towards the end. “you hate sweet things and this especially looks like it could give you diabetes.”

the dark-haired shrugs. “so? i thought you’d like it.” 

“sure, but it is kinda pricey for a milkshake.”

he shrugs again, putting his elbows on the table which causes his sleeves of his turtleneck to roll down a little, exposing the shiny silver of his, no doubt expensive, watch. “i’ll pay for us, it’s fine.”

“hold on-”

“i’m paying. end of argument.” 

it’s an offer you can’t really reject. being a university student and all, funds are limited, so wherever you can, you want to avoid withdrawing money out of your account. that said, it doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the slightest bit guilty about draining rin’s, but with how long you’ve been friends, you know that once he’s set his mind to something, it’s hard to change it.

“if you insist,” you grumble, straightening up your spine as you awkwardly fiddle with your shirt. you feel so scrutinised under his gaze, even as you reach for the jug of water and pour two cups of water. “what else should we get?”

the waitress then comes around to take your orders and when she’s gone, conversation flows easily, reverting back to how things were between the two of you (to rin’s relief). he listens as you talk animatedly about the unfortunate series of events you had with your professor the other day, how cute your encounter with the campus dogs were, and the really unfortunate run-in you had with a guy from your shared tutorial classes.

(the dark-haired boy makes a face when you mention another man’s name before his usual face of indifference melts back in.)

“here’s your milkshake,” the waitress says, placing the drink in the middle of the table before walking away, “you guys are really cute by the way.”

“thanks,” rin says calmly, a stark contrast to your flustered reaction.

two straws stick out from the milkshake and when you put one in your mouth, you almost choke when rin takes the other one, causing your noses to bump in the middle. the look he gives you is nothing short of mischievous before pulling away, a knowing smirk playing along his lips. 

“ew. that is really sweet,” he mutters before leaning back, crossing his arms. 

“yeah,” you cough. “it is really sweet.”

recovering from your embarrassment, the rest of lunch goes by quite seamlessly. he goes to pay for everything with a confident tap of his card, causing you to stand awkwardly behind him, keeping all complaints to yourself as it goes through. thanking the waitress, you leave the café hand-in-hand once more. 

“thanks again for paying,” you repeat and rin gives a hum of acknowledgement whilst you two walk aimlessly on the path. “what do you want to do now?”

“i don’t know. do you have anything you want to do?”

“i might have an idea.”

leading him in the direction of a nearby store that just opened recently, you come to a stop in front of a shop that had neon-lights illuminating its inside and claw machines filled with adorable plushies lining along the walls. 

glancing at him, there’s a glimmer of amusement in rin’s eyes as his lips turn upwards into a small smirk. “really?” he asks, looking over at you.

“really. this’ll be fun!” you promise before walking in, the dark-haired following suit as you stop in front of a token-purchasing machine. 

from the corner of your eye, you can see him taking out his wallet already and you immediately put your hand on your wrist, ceasing his movement.

with just one glance, a whole conversation passes between you two. “if you pay for me i will sock you.”

“i’d like to see you try,” he deadpans, quirking a brow before pressing the ‘20 tokens = $19’ button on the machine, “but i’m paying.”

then the sound of his card meeting the reader and the transaction being approved rings through the air, followed by the deafening noise of coins clashing against metal. the look he gives you is nothing short of proud. 

“come on babe, bet you won’t be able to get any prizes,” challenges rin as he brushes past you, the pet name causing your stomach to churn as insults rest on your tongue, offended by his declaration.

he’s gracious enough to give you half of the coins, allowing you to play four games each. you only manage to win on one of them and even then, you were astonished at your own achievements, excitedly grabbing the plushie and hugging the stuffed toy to your chest protectively. rin, on the other hand, comes back to you with two in both hands and the gawk you let out was completely against your will.

“how did you do that?” you ask, a little stupified at the sight (it was kinda hot though). although at this point, you shouldn’t really question how itoshi rin works since he takes the meaning of ‘march to the beat of your own drum’ to a whole other level. 

instead of answering, he hands them over to you and you have no choice but to take them, your arms now overloaded with three stuffed toys. 

before you can even open your mouth to ask if he broke into the machines, your phone buzzes with a notification and the second you open it, you’re met with a familiar ‘⚠️bereal’ banner, one that makes you excited over the impeccable timing. rin raises an eyebrow at your sudden surprise.

“bereal! quick, pose!” you demand and rin obeys, raising a peace sign with a slight smile before the camera turns around to you and the many stuffed toys you’re cuddling. 

how adorable you are might just kill him. 

the dark-haired shakes the thought away before taking out his phone, instructing you to smile. you pose for the photo, hugging all the plushies closely to your chest whilst rin gives his usual deadpan stare into the camera. he then gives you his phone to check if it was okay to post and when you approve, you press the ‘post >’ button for him.

shutting off his phone for him, it’s at the same time that the bereal notification pops up again, this time detailing how one of his friends had posted but that’s not what caught your attention.

it’s a certain photo that made your heart thump loudly in its ribcage.

“am i your lockscreen?” you ask, pride and flattery swelling in your stomach, manifesting through the warmth of your cheeks. 

the slight widening of his eyes give you all the answers you need. “you weren’t supposed to see that.” 

nothing could stop the slow grin from erupting on your expression. it’s ridiculous to say so, but it almost feels like a weight is being lifted from your chest, the pains of the last few weeks erasing themselves completely with this one detail. 

that’s how you know rin was meant for you.

“out of all pictures of me, you chose this one?” you question, gesturing to the selfie that you once sent him during your study sessions. your hair was messy, there was a semi-crazed look in your eyes, but at least the moisturising lip gloss you had reapplied then made you look somewhat put together. 

looking at his phone once more, you feel a little warm.

“i like it,” he mutters shyly, unable to look you in the eye. despite his embarrassment, his statement fills you with endless relief, providing gratification for your relationship with rin that you didn’t know you needed. 

though you’ve been friends with him for quite some time now, you feel as though you don’t really recognise the man in front of you. past perceptions you’ve had of him has now been shattered by his flustered gaze, the relentless blush coating his cheeks, and the uncharacteristic way he slumps, as if defending himself from any judgement you might throw at him. 

luckily for him, that’s not what you’re interested in doing.

unlocking your phone, you hand it to him. “take a matching selfie so i can make it my lock screen too.”

at least you have all the time in the world to get to know him all over again.

(rin will never tell you that he only has been active on bereal so he could see what you were up to. except it backfired every time because instead of satisfying how desperately he was longing for you during your two weeks of no contact, it only made him want you more. he wanted to be there with you through your intense study sessions, he wanted to be going on walks with you, he wanted to be there with you when you were watching one more episode of your favourite tv show before going to bed, he just wanted to be there with you.

now he has all the time to make sure he is.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[@y/n’s BeReal]

@ karasu69: @fruityninjaotoya YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS 　　→ @fruitninjaotoya: Shut your micropenis up

@ yocchan: Y/N WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS 　　→ @ nagixxxxxxxxxxxxx: ratio 　　→ @ yocchan: DON’T RATIO ME RN

@monsterbachira: omg are y’all 😍❤️😍 rn 　　→ @y/n: wut. 　　→ @itshrin: Yes 　　→ @monsterbachira: y/n rin is actually a good kisser 　　→ @y/n: thanks for letting me know meguru! 　　→ @itshrin: i’m going to end you. 

@bbgreo: i’m glad y’all had fun but no itoshi rin on our platonic date pls! 　　→ @y/n: would never dream of it luv <3 　　→ @itshrin: Sleep with one eye open, Reo 　　→ @y/n: that’s my best friend :( 　　→ @itshrin: You don’t need him 　　→ @y/n: reo and i are one you can’t separate us 　　→ @itshrin: Ok fine 😒 　　→ @bbgreo: yay! 　　→ @y/n: yay!

<reo3: told you you were too pretty to reject xx

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin #itoshi rin bllk #blue lock

[cevansbrat0007]

There is a trend on some social media where the wife/Gf gives her man a full plate and only her self a little saying that is all that was left. How would Andy and Ari act in that situation?

What's Eating You, Mr. Levinson?

Summary: You decide to test your man's patience with a prank you saw on TikTok. CLICK HERE to read Andrew Barber's reaction to the same prompt.

Warnings: Mature Themes, References to Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, TikTok Hijinks, Brief Mention of Calorie Counting, Bickering, Manhandling, Threats of Spanking/Punishment, Discussion of a Sex Tape, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Ari Levinson from my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You weren’t quite sure what possessed you to do this. If anybody asked, you would claim temporary insanity. But right now you were about to get up to some mischief. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” You mutter under your breath as you adjust the position of the camera you hid tucked away behind a plant. Pleased with the angle, you make a mental note to revisit the world of Harry Potter sooner rather than later. 

It was officially time for a reread. 

Tonight you were gonna play a little joke on your bounty hunter boyfriend. One that you’d come across the other day after accidentally straying from the wonderful world of BookTok. You just hoped he would find it as amusing as you did. In fact, you were certain that he would.

Eventually.   

Hands on your hips, you do an about-face and traipse back into the kitchen to get started on dinner. On tonight’s menu was a Tuscan pork roast, complete with red wine mushrooms and Haricots Verts – also known as French Green Beans. And for dessert, you’d decided to whip up your man’s favorite: key lime pie 

So, even if he got pissed at you later, you were confident you had something that would soothe his ruffled feathers. 

Fingers crossed.

Later that Evening…

The heady thrum of excitement hits you the moment you hear the open and shut of your front door. Having anticipated his arrival, you’d even thrown on a new dress and cued up a little music. While it wasn’t your usual style, you knew without a doubt that Ari would appreciate your efforts. 

“Bird?” 

The sound of your nickname has a smile forming on your lips before you even realize it. Smoothing your hands over your skirt, you make your way towards your mudroom, eager to greet your handsome bounty hunter. 

His eyes light up the moment he sees you. He stands there for a moment, drinking in the sight you clad in your new black dress and wedge heels. 

“Well, get a look at you.” He breathes, allowing his bag to drop at his feet next to his forgotten boots.

“You like?” Biting your lip, you give into temptation and do a little spin. 

Confidence blooms when you hear his appreciative whistle. But that’s nowhere near enough for your man. Because now that you’d gone and given him a show, he wanted more. 

“Oh baby, I love.” 

Pulling you into his arms, his mouth quickly descends upon your own. His tongue wastes no time finding yours, exploring every inch, every corner of your mouth. He lets you know without words that he’s so unbelievably happy to be home holding you like this. 

You cling to him, your hands roving beneath the soft fabric of his t-shirt to run along the sculpted plane of his back. When he finally lets you up for air it’s so he can nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, unique scent.    

“You’re beautiful.” He rasps, pecking your lips once more, his large hands come up to frame your face. “So beautiful. Can’t wait to take this dress off you later, see what you might be hiding underneath.”

“All in good time, Beast.” Your lashes flutter closed as you lean into his touch. “All in good time.”

“What if I don’t wanna wait?” His husky growl rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest as he fiddles the material of your skirt. 

“Well, you’re gonna.” Comes your cheeky response. “So go on and wash up for supper. We’re having something yummy.” You bat as his hands, intending to shoo him up the stairs.

The look that flashes across your man’s face makes it clear that he’d much rather have you for dinner instead. He boxes you in, slowly crowding you with his much larger frame as he backs you against a nearby wall. 

However, you refuse to let yourself be swayed.

“I mean it, mister.” You repeat, poking him in the chest. “Now, be a good boy and go wash up.” Ari’s eyes darken at your words. His head dips without warning as he bites your finger, sucking the digit into his mouth, making you gasp. 

“Alright, Duchess. Have it your way.” He growls once he finally deigns to release you. “You’d best be ready for me when I get back.” With that, he gives you his back as he strides off in the direction of the stairs.

“I ain’t scared of you.” You tell his retreating form, waiting until you hear his heavy footfalls sounding on the floor above you. Only then do you move, intending to finish setting up for dinner. 

‘Alright, sugar.’ You think, taking a second to fluff your curls. ‘Time to earn yourself an Oscar.’ 

Fifteen Minutes Later…

You’ve just finished hiding away what’s left of your meal when you hear Ari make his way into your tiny dining room.

“Have a seat, Beast!” You call out, hoping that the act you were about to put on was at least mildly convincing. “I–I’ll be right in.”

Blowing out a breath you snag your bounty hunter’s plate, along with a glass of wine, and head into the next room. Although he admittedly wasn’t much of a wine drinker before he met you, he tended to enjoy whatever selection you paired with your meal. 

Tonight you’d picked a lovely pinot noir.       

This time when you see him, you’re treated to the sight of a freshly showered Ari lazily sprawled in one of your slightly too small chairs. His still damp hair is pushed back off his face as he waits for you, patiently biding his time while he plans his next move.

Or so you assumed, anyway.

“Here you are.” You sing as you approach. “Tonight I bring you an expertly roasted Tuscan pork loin, complete with a garlic and mushroom risotto and french-style green beans.”

“Smells good, baby.” He absentmindedly scratches at his jaw while he surveys the mountain of food on his plate. 

“Hopefully it tastes good too.” You lean down to press a quick kiss against his temple. “I’ll, uh, be right back with mine.” The handsome brute smacks your ass when you turn to depart, making you yip.      

“Hurry back.” He grunts, letting out a chuckle when he sees you trying to rub the sting out of your butt.

Seconds later you return with your food before quietly taking a seat at the table, all the while refusing to make eye contact. Picking up your napkin, you make a show of draping it across your knee, and then…

You wait. 

It doesn’t take long for Ari to notice the differences between your respective plates, and it takes even less time for him to speak on it – much to your internal satisfaction.

“What the–?” Ari pushes his plate aside so that he can get a better look at your virtually empty one. “Where the hell’s the rest of your food, baby?” His deep voice comes out deceptively soft.  

“Huh?” You cast him a sheepish glance, feigning embarrassment. “Oh this? It’s fine.”

“That’s not what I asked, Bird.” The quiet steel in his voice is impossible to miss.

“I know it wasn’t. But this was all that was left, so…” You trail off, averting your gaze in favor of using your fork to push food around your plate. “It’s fine.”

“There’s that damn word again.” You hear him grumble under his breath, his nostrils flaring in frustration. “I got news for you, Bird. It ain’t fine.” He grouses, reaching for you even as you shift away.

“But it is.” You sing, daintily fanning yourself with a napkin. 

“No it isn’t.” He sings right back, clearly not understanding your game. Which was a good thing. It meant that you two could play a little longer.  

“Look, if this is about you feeling like you need to start counting calories again…” Ari goes to rest his elbows on the table, his own meal all but forgotten. “Then please believe me when I tell you that you look phenomenal. And not just tonight, baby. I mean every night.”

You feel your cheeks heat as your body responds to his praise. That familiar warmth soon spreads, pooling in your belly while you mentally preen at his words.  

“Thank you, Ari.” 

“Oh don’t thank me, sweet girl.” His already husky voice dips another octave. “I just want you to eat.” You stifle a small shiver when the roughened pads of his fingertips lightly graze over your hand. “Now, do me a kindness and take your pretty little self back into that kitchen and fix yourself a proper plate.” 

And there it was. He thought you were lying about there not being any leftovers. He was right, of course. Just not the way he thought he was. 

“I would if I could, sugar.” You stretch out your legs beneath the table as you prepare to really sell the narrative. “Honest. But there really isn’t anything left. I…accidentally only bought one pork loin instead of two. And then I misjudged the recipe for the risotto, but that was most likely on account of the fact that I was in my feelings about the state of Herb & Twine’s green beans selection. It wasn’t very good.”

Ari doesn’t tell you this, but he’s actually impressed by your ability to speak that fast without so much as taking a breath. Instead all you receive is a gruff “uh huh” for your trouble.  

“So,” You forge on, now fully committed to the bit. “I salvaged what I could out of the meal I planned and then gave most of it to you.”

“Why?” 

Boy, he did not look happy. Which was great news for you

“Because…” You draw out the word, wincing when you belatedly notice the sudden tick in his jaw. “I just…felt like you shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes.”

“Oh.” He hums, pursing his lips as he mulls over your story. “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to fix that.”

Unsure of what he means, you open your mouth to keep talking, only to let out a shriek when Ari suddenly reaches over to grip the back of your chair to drag you, and it, over closer to him.  

“Christ, Beast!” Your hand flies to your still-heaving chest as you will your heartbeat to calm down. 

But your man’s not done yet. 

You scarcely have time to catch your breath before you’re hauled into his lap. Immediately your arms go to weave themselves around his neck to keep you from falling. Not that Ari would’ve ever allowed that to happen.

Seemingly unbothered by your rather dramatic response, Ari seeks to balance you on top of his muscled thighs as he leans over again to retrieve your plate. You watch in confusion as he unceremoniously dumps the contents onto his own dish before setting yours aside once more. 

“Hate to break it to you, Duchess.” He seamlessly adjusts your positions so that he can grasp his knife and fork. “But I don’t need all this food. So it looks like we’ll just have to share.” 

Momentarily stunned by this turn of events you can only nod as he feeds you a tender bite of pork. It takes a moment for you to find your voice, but when you finally do, it’s to utter two simple words. 

“Ari, wait.” 

“‘Fraid I’m not really in the mood to wait.” Your impatient bounty hunter warns. But he does pause his efforts, his fork hovering mere centimeters from your mouth. “You’re nuts if you think I’m the kinda man who would even consider stuffing himself while his lady sits by and starves.”

“I know.” You assure him before rearranging your body so that you’re facing him, your thighs  now straddling his hips. “And I think that’s awfully sweet.”

“Great. So how about you –”

“But since this is a prank…” The grin you’re sporting threatens to split your face in two. “It looks like you get to keep your food.”

Ari blinks back at you, his mouth briefly opening and closing in a way that very much reminds you of a fish. You feel positively giddy as you press your hands on either side of his bearded face so you can plant a kiss on his full lips while he tries, and fails, to make sense of what you just said. 

“Run that by me one more time.” His quiet snarl is enough to have you soaking your panties.

“I saw this thing on TikTok, where these women all decided to prank their boyfriends by serving them this big ol’ plate of food, while pretending to give themselves only a little bit and claiming that was all that was leftover. They filmed their reactions and posted ‘em for everyone else to see.”

“What the hell is a fuckin’ TikTok?” 

“It’s this app where you…” You pause as you try to find the right words. “Where people can, um–”

“Post dumb shit?” He quirks a tawny brow as he tries to remain serious, even though you’re also pretty sure that you just saw his lips twitch. “Come up with new and inventive ways to torture the men that love them?”

���I mean, that’s not all it is.” You take a moment to whisper kisses along his chiseled jaw. “But I guess that’s a pretty accurate description.”

“Hmph.” Your grumpy bounty hunter continues to glower at you, even as his large, warm hands move to settle on your hips. “And am I right to assume you’re recording this?”

“Maybe…” You giggle, not bothering to hide just how funny you found this all to be. “Oh – but I was never gonna post it. Promise.” 

You hold up your pinky, trying your hardest to look solemn. But the look Ari gives you lets you know that he’s done falling for your act. 

“I’m warning you, Duchess.” He grunts, lightly bouncing you on his lap. “I swear to God, if I catch myself on that fuckin’ tock clock…thing…you have my word that I’m gonna redden that ass.”

“I already told you I wasn’t gonna.” You reassure him once more, resting your forehead against his. “By the way, thanks for bein’ such a good sport about the whole thing.”

“No problem.” He flashes you a feral grin, revealing his pearly white teeth. It shoots straight to your core. “But the way I see it, you kinda owe me one. Don’t you?” He leans in close as his hands begin gently kneading your curves. 

“Um…I don’t think–” You let out a soft whimper when he drags his nose along the delicate column of your throat.

“Oh, but I do.” He nips at your jaw. 

“I suppose that’s fair.” 

“Trust me, it is.” His sensual growl has you practically shivering with need. “Which is why you’re gonna show me where you hid that camera.” His lust-filled gaze drops to your cleavage as he openly begins undressing you with his eyes.

“Now hold on a minute, Beast –” You stammer once realization dawns. 

“Aw, don’t fret.” Ari’s rueful chuckle lets you know that you will never win this battle. “You’ll have your turn to direct our little movie.” Ari suddenly stands without warning so that he can gently deposit you back in your own chair. “Especially now that I know how much you love performing for the camera.

Oh, the man had you there. Sometimes your Beast was a bit too cunning for your liking. 

“I don’t think–” You try again, now feeling shy. “What we do in the dark has no business being on film!”

“Hm, guess we’ll just have to keep the lights on. But for now, let’s get you fed.” He drops a kiss on your head before picking up your empty dish and sauntering off towards the kitchen. “We’ll talk lighting and camera angles once you’re finished.” 

Good Lord on high. What had you just gotten yourself into?

“Here we are.” Ari continues upon his return a few minutes later. He sets your down in front of you before taking your napkin and redraping it across your lap. “But I’d eat fast if I were you.”

“Um…why?” You ask, eyeing him warily. 

“Because.” He winks at you before taking a seat and enthusiastically spearing a piece of meat onto his fork. “Tonight’s dress rehearsal starts in thirty minutes.”

END

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