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demieyesore · 18 days

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so dom!mattheoriddle x shy!reader x Theodore Nott who’s there to just hold her and force her to take Mattheo.

just reader, sitting on Theodores lap and him having a hand grasping her two hands and one on her thigh to keep them open. Reader is crying from overstimulation and try to move her hips, while Mattheo is literally pounding into her furiously for talking to another guy. Theodore agreeing with him. 🫢

Jealousy, Jealousy - M.R x Reader x T.N

Summary - A fanfic in which Mattheo and Theodore see you becoming flustered by another boy and get jealous.

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Pronouns, AFAB!Reader, Shy!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Theo is just kind of there, Theo gets no action LMFAO, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Reader isn't actually interested in the third party, they only get flustered because they're shy, mention of Hayden Christensen's character Sam because I love him so much that I had to include him...size kink for sure, humiliation kink, breeding kink, mentions of baby trapping, squirting

A/N - As soon as I read this request, I got a second pulse ONG. Also as someone who is shy, writing this made me feel like a total slut

Requested - Yes

Word Count - 2,697

Tag list - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet (Add yourself to my tag list and or remove yourself by going to my pinned post! You can also pick an anon emoji through my pinned post!)

Your whole life you have been a shy person; Always getting embarrassed in the most stupid and silly situations. You once got flustered while buying an item at the store, you were trying to explain yourself and stuttering over your words when the shop keeper told you that she was only kidding. The item in question was a packet of Band-Aids, you needed them because you were always tripping over yourself, always finding mysterious bruises and cuts on your body. Unfortunately, Mattheo and Theo had gone a little wild the night before, your neck was absolutely covered in hickeys.

Despite you trying to cover up the purple and red markings; the first thing the older lady said to you when she grabbed the box was, "Honey, you might need to grab another pack with how your neck looks." Of course her comment caught you off guard and you immediately tugged at the hoodie you had on, pulling the neckline upwards in a clumsy attempt to hide the love bites.

So really, it should be no surprise that when a Slytherin boy came up to you and flirted with you; completely unashamed, might I add. You reacted very awkwardly, your face promptly heating up.

You were outdoors in the courtyard of Hogwarts, leaning against one of the trees while practicing a spell from the previous class lesson. You scratched at your head in annoyance and confusion when it once again failed. You huffed a frustrated breath of air as you pocketed your wand.

When you weren't paying attention, a boy walked up to you and cleared his throat to get your awareness. Your eyes drifted up to his face, he had black hair with a streak of blue running through it. He had a multitude of piercings but his most noticeable was one sticking out from below his lip. He wore thick eyeliner and maybe even some black eyeshadow if you were to look close enough.

You recognized him as one of your classmates, Sam. You had never really talked to each other, but you weren't oblivious to him staring during lessons. It never bothered you, it did always startle you and bring a small amount of pink to flush your cheeks. It wasn't out of attraction to him though, more so just being more conscious of yourself knowing that you were being watched, seen, and perceived.

"Having trouble?" He asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Your eyes widened as you stumbled out a response.

"No, well I mean yes, but not anything too hard..." You replied, anxiously messing with your after school outfit. Sam was quick to mutter something under his breath, something that you didn't quite catch but you swore that you heard him say, "Not harder than me."

He quickly spoke up again, speaking more clear this time and with confidence. "You should come to my dorm tonight, my roommate and I are throwing a little party." Your face visibly faltered, and hesitancy was evident on your features. "I'm sorry Sam, I don't really go to parties and I'm supposed to hang out with Mattheo and Theo."

He looked you up and down briefly, his tongue sucking on his canine in what seemed like irritation. "What they don't know won't hurt them." He gently grabbed your hand, playing with the ring that your boyfriends collectively bought for you.

"Sam, I really wish I could go but I just don't think I can make it tonight..." You whispered, biting the inside of your mouth as anxiety filled your system.

"God, are you stupid? I'm trying to say that I like you." His free hand ran through his hair, messing up the typical style he had it in.

Sam was a cute guy, don't get me wrong, but you simply weren't interested and you already had two boyfriends. Which sometimes they can be even a little much to deal with.

Sam's effort to convince you to go was abruptly stopped as a fist connected with his face. He fell backwards, dropping his grip on you when Theo protectively held you against him. Mattheo shook his hand, trying to find relief from the pain he had caused from punching the douchebag flirting with you.

Mattheo basically spat at the fellow Slytherin, "Yeah? Well guess who's dating them." Mattheo would've beat his fucking ass if you let him; Jealousy was raging through both of the boys. Mattheo was more loud about his anger while Theo was just passive until violence was necessary.

Mattheo didn't want to spend another goddamn minute of his time near this asshole, he was already on the ground so there's no need to continue the fight when he's already won. Mattheo's hand grasped your upper arm, dragging you in front of him as he walked away from the Courtyard. Theodore followed loosely behind, his hand resting on the lower part of your back.

They lead you through the corridors, not uttering a single word as they pushed you into their shared dorm. They had already shed their school robes before the quickly ended fight, never wanting to wear the uniform afterschool.

"What a fucking dickhead." Mattheo scoffed, referring to the scene that just played out. He sat on the end of his bed, manspreading while trying to shake the feeling of jealousy. His hands with intertwined as his head hung, just looking at the ground. Theo on the other hand was massaging his temples as if he had a headache.

"The audacity to say all that bullshit is unbelievable." Theo's accent was more prominent, often a result of his temper running thin.

He said an array of curse words in Italian, none of which you could understand. Mattheo just kept staring at the ground, something was definitely on his mind besides the interaction.

You sat down next to Mattheo, Theo still standing; even beginning to pace back and forth. Mattheo put one of his large hands on your thigh, kneading the skin possessively. He was now staring at your thighs and how his hand roamed your skin. His opposite hand was holding up his face as he lazily laid on his palm.

"Why were you blushing?' He finally asks, his fingers impatiently tapping along his cheekbone. Theo's pacing stops as he turns to look at the both of you. His eyebrows furrowing as he thinks back.

You tilt your head in puzzlement, "What?" Mattheo groans, throwing his head back before turning towards you. His left leg hiking up onto the bed. His hands moving to latch onto your hips while he leans in. His face laying on your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. "I said, why were you blushing? He said he liked you, and you were blushing." Mattheo murmured, his controlling side peaking out. He was trying his hardest to stay calm with you, but he couldn't keep his thoughts away. He saw how you looked at that freak, a blush settled on your face while he messed with the ring that he and Theo got you. It was a promise ring, although that part was technically a secret. They never called it a promise ring, just a gift. But both of them knew that it was them promising themselves to you and to each other as they adorned the same matching ring.

"Mattheo- I was just flustered, you know how anxious I get...especially with other people..." You defended but Mattheo persisted. "With other people? Are Theo and I not enough to get your heart racing?" He quipped back as he selfishly left kisses on your throat.

"That's not what- that's not what I meant!" You stuttered out, your heartbeat increasing in your chest. He hummed against your neck, sending vibrations down to your core. "Right, I forgot, you only get shy around us when we fuck you."

"Mattheo, don't say that..." You whined, embarrassment flooding your veins. "Why not? Too vulgar for you?" He questions, still pressing firm kisses into you. Theo finally laughed a little bit, already knowing where this was going. He sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard while he watched the heating up conversation.

"Yes! You always say such...risky things..." You mumble out, trying to find the words to explain his vocabulary. "Risky? You really think so? Theo, what do you think?" Mattheo scoffs, his arms protectively enveloping you while he looked over your shoulder at Theodore. Your back was turned to the boy with light brown hair.

Theo thought for a moment, pausing just long enough for you to nervously push at Mattheo's hold on you. Suddenly you felt too warm, like your skin was on fire. Mattheo tightened his grasp on you, placing another kiss to your neck. "Stay still." He whispered, his voice low and commanding.

Theodore ultimately decided to say, "I think...they should be just as flustered when talking to us. We're your boyfriends after all." His sentence started out directed at Mattheo but switched over to you at the end. "Theo-" You whined out in a complaint.

"Always so whiny..." He counters while Mattheo sucks at your jawline, demanding your attention once more. "You heard him. We're your boyfriends, that nobody shouldn't be getting reactions out of you that we don't." Mattheo lets go of his clutch on you, shoving you backwards, leaving you to fall towards Theo. His soft hands pulled you into the free space between his legs. You were in a position where you were partially sitting upright against his chest but loose enough that you were still laying down.

Theo's hands gripped the underneath of your thighs, prying your knees to bend so your legs were open. Mattheo swiftly removed his shirt, tugging the fabric over his head. He shuffled over to your open legs. He practically yanked off your pants, pulling your underwear down along with it.

"This okay?" Mattheo glances up at you, checking in with you. He observed as you nodded your head slowly. One of Theo's hands gripped your jaw, his sultry tone dripping. "Words."

You twisted your head away from the boys, wanting to just disappear from shame. "It's okay..."

"Good, because you obviously need a reminder that we're the only ones that can make you feel like this." Mattheo mumbled under his breath. He undid his belt, tossing it to Theo. Theo made quick use of the leather, tying your wrists together as he secured the rest of the belt in his mouth. Wanting to make sure that you couldn't move your hands while his own held your legs open.

Mattheo unzipped his jeans, freeing himself from the restrictions of his boxers next. He spat his saliva onto his cock, stroking himself a couple of times to coat the fluid over his dick as a makeshift lube.

"Sorry sweetheart, not getting you ready for me today. I need you now." He admitted, lifting your hips and forcing them to wrap around his waist.

He ran his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness. "Holy shit, no foreplay and you're absolutely soaking. You little slut." He ridiculed. You failed in an attempt to close your legs, feeling the embarrassment seep into you while Theo tightened his hold on you, keeping your legs secured in place.

"Aw, poor baby, too flustered from my words alone?" He mocked as you rocked your hips closer to him, teasing his tip.

"So needy for cock..." He whispered as he finally pushed into you. Your walls squeezed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. "Fuck, don't snap my dick off. I forgot how tight you are, shit." He said breathlessly at the feeling.

He slowly moved, trying to ease your cunt into the movement. When you started to roll your hips onto him, Theo slapped your thigh, holding you down with enough pressure so that way you couldn't get yourself off.

Mattheo gained his pace, his hands laying on your hips as he thrusted into you. You could feel Theo's boner pressed against you but he made no strive to relieve himself in anyway. Mattheo pounded into you with no mercy, the sound of your moans echoed in the dorm. You tried to hold back your moans, even trying to muffle them. Mattheo could feel you flutter around him as you climaxed for the first time.

"Couldn't even hold off on one orgasm for a little longer? Fuck, you're such a little slut, you'd probably like it if I slapped you. Maybe you'd cum on my dick harder if I manhandled you." You whimpered at his words, they repeated in your mind as he kept fucking you through your high. But he didn't stop and you knew he wasn't gonna stop.

"Oh come on baby, you can take a little more can't you? Don't you want to be good for me?" He taunted as he slammed back into you. "You know that nobody else could make you cum like this right? Ain't ever gonna leave us." He chattered to himself possessively, as if he was talking himself through the experience.

His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own high, his eyes were closed tightly as his head flew back. He was still pumping deeply inside you as he came. He pulled out for a second, watching as his cum leaked out of your sopping hole. "So pretty when my cum is inside you."

His eyes darkened as he swallowed harshly. He pushed his tip back at your entrance, but not fully entering you. He was pushing his cum back into you, his eyes were hazy as he re-entered you.

"Can't fuck anyone else if you're carrying my baby, now can you?" He fantasized aloud. He quickly regained his composure, regaining speed, not even allowing you the time needed to recover from your climax.

"Mat-Mattheo, stop, I'm too sensitive..." You whimper out, moans falling loosely from your lips like a waterfall. You could feel the wetness between your thighs, you could feel every single touch, your skin was crawling. It was all becoming way too much. "Too much, it's too much-" You could feel your mouth going dry as you started to overheat, but none the less, Mattheo kept tearing through your cunt. "All worn out? Too fucking bad." He muttered in a cold tone, not caring about the discomfort you were feeling. You tried to pull your hands apart, the skin itching from the leather belt wrapped around them. Tears began to form in your waterline.

Mattheo was essentially abusing your pussy, all he wanted and craved for was to feel you pulse around him. He drilled into you, observing as you stiffened again, your body shaking as another orgasm was pulled from you. Tears were fully streaming down your face from the overstimulation.

"So fucking precious when you cry, all tired from my cock ruining you. I wonder just how cockdrunk I can get you." You mumbled, jutting your hips out as you squirmed from pleasure and pain. Theo struggled to hold you down, groaning when you accidentally rub against his painful erection. "Stop fucking moving." Mattheo demands, slapping your cunt causing you to whine.

Theo removes one of his hands from your thigh, placing pressure on your lower stomach, making it so you could feel Mattheo's cock inside you even more. You moaned so loud that it was almost pornographic. "Feel that?" Mattheo asks, throat going dry when he sees the bulge in your stomach. He looks at Theo for a second, speaking as if you weren't even there. "Fuck, you should see just how our baby's cunt sucks me back in. Every damn time." He moans, as he cums inside you again. Filling you up, he still doesn't stop, not until the bed is dripping in your liquids.

He finally comes to a stop, pulling out of your pussy with a pop as you squirt. You sprayed his dick with the fluid as he just smiled down at his work with a dominant aura. He was getting off on the fact that he had made you squirt, getting off on the fact that only he and Theo could make you cry from how good they felt.

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hyunsvngs · 8 months

Text

𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 - college au american footballers!lee minho & han jisung x cheerleader!fem!reader

wc: 14.3k

cw: some boy x boy action, mc is inexperienced but a secret perv, mc is dumb and forgets what polyamory is, subsequent polyamorous relationship, reader is described to be smaller than minsung, smoking weed, getting drunk, hyunlix are menaces, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you’re not too experienced in the world of dating, parties and talking to people, but these two american footballers that you cheer for just seem to get it.

a/n: SORRY :D! as usual, smut warnings under the cut :3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out when drunk, spit kink (a lot of it), cumplay, making out with cum involved, rimming (m rec), boys kissing, anal fingering (m&f rec), oral (m&f rec), threesome, handjob, A LOT OF DIRTY TALK, minho’s mean but affectionate, painplay, degradation, slight? humiliation, breeding kink, pet names: jagi, baby, kitty, gorgeous

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Throughout high school, and everything that came before it, you were never into sports. You were the girl that got shouted at by the rest of the team in P.E because you’d flinch as soon as the ball came near you. You had a sick note every lesson towards the end of high school. You’d walk the mile instead of run. You just weren’t cut out for physical activity.

It was the same reason you’d been so unpopular in school. Popularity went to the athletes, the girls who were svelte and toned, and although your mother would swear you were beautiful, you never had much luck making friends or getting boyfriends growing up.

Of course, when you came to university, you chose a non-bodily exhausting major. Fine art was a fair bet for you since you’d always been good at drawing, and you decided you could go for something you were skilled at so you could still enjoy the university experience. It was a win win. Then, you’d surprisingly befriended Hyunjin, an ethereal man with the beauty of a model out of a magazine - and then came along Felix, his other best friend who studied computer science. They’d actually helped you lose your virginity with your first - and thus far, only - one night stand. Although the experience was less than enjoyable, more awkward, you were still thankful.

It was a month later that they told you they were both cheerleaders for the American football team. You grinned and said how cool it was. They’d asked you to join. You said no. They were popular, too - always going to parties and events, and you considered that would be your fate if you joined. It was terrifying. This went on for the rest of your first year. The trauma from high school P.E lessons prevented you from even considering it, even while they told you that it wasn’t really that tiring. Cheering was still a sport, and that’s what kept you back from joining.

Until you finally gave in.

“I don’t know, isn’t the skirt a bit… Too short?” You mumbled. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in Hyunjin’s room, letting Felix fiddle with your hair and slide a red and white bow on it. It matched the rest of your uniform, a bright crimson mixed with a more subtle ivory. It was your university’s colours, and the same colours the American football players would wear. Felix was behind you and Hyunjin stood beside you - both in their matching uniforms, skirts and all.

Felix looked like he was about to ascend with the happiness on his face. You felt like you could die from the anxiety.

“It’s meant to be short, darling,” Hyunjin quipped, smoothing down the pleats on your skirt. “You need to look so good for tonight.”

You squeaked. Felix rolled his eyes, glaring at Hyunjin. He’d given away the secret. “What’s tonight?”

Felix sighed. His face appeared next to you in the mirror, half of his hair pulled up with a bow matching yours. His hands stroked down your shoulders with a soft smile, as if he was scared to release this information unto you. You stared at his button nose, covered in freckles, too anxious to look into his eyes. “So… there’s an initiation when you join. Sort of a ritual, it happens every year with the new recruits.”

Hyunjin was now sprawled on his bed, hands fiddling with some rolling papers. A baggie of weed was on his lap, over his pleated skirt. You grimaced at the audacity, despite knowing you were inevitably going to ask for some.

“It’s a party,” Hyunjin said, sprinkling weed into the paper. “It’s nothing terrifying. Just that the new recruits have to all be handcuffed to a member of the football team, and they have to play Truth or Dare to be set free.”

“Well, I just won’t play then,” You decided, nodding your head at the reflection in the mirror. Felix bit his lip, staring at you. Hyunjin’s movements paused. “… What is it?”

“We already nominated you. There’s an uneven number of recruits, too, so… you’re handcuffed to two.”

“Two?! No, you’re both deranged. It’s not happening.” Hyunjin simply raised an eyebrow at your words.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It was definitely happening. That much was clear when you all arrived at the party, adequately stoned and just as tipsy from your pregaming at Hyunjin’s. You were fiddling with your skirt, trying to pull it down just a bit lower, but Felix slapped your hand away with a playful glare. Felix pushed the door open and entered as if he owned the place. The location of the party was some massive house on campus, full to the brim of sweaty, gyrating bodies in different sports uniforms. You were out of your depth.

Felix and Hyunjin noticed your awkward demeanour almost immediately and dragged you into the kitchen. Once he’d found a bottle of alcohol, Hyunjin poured all three of you vodka shots each to drink. He was hoping it would get you out of your shell, a wistful smile on his plump lips.

You grimaced as the burn hit your throat, nose scrunched. Felix giggled, and then he spun you around, hands on your waist. “Okay, so. We’re going to steal this bottle of vodka, take it into the living room, then you get handcuffed to your American footballers of choice.”

You blinked. “Choice? Who chose?”

“Jihyo,” Hyunjin replied, appearing on your other side. He handed you a plastic cup full of a strange coloured concoction before pushing his long, dark hair out of his eyes.

You knew Jihyo, actually. She was the captain of the cheerleading team and had been nothing but lovely to you since you joined. She’d even saved you the embarrassment of auditioning in front of the vice captain, letting you just cheer in front of her alone with the routine Felix and Hyunjin drilled into you. You hoped she’d be lenient on who she chose for you tonight.

Letting yourself be dragged into the living room by Hyunjin, you clutched your cup to ensure you didn’t spill it with the jostling. It tasted bad, but you drank it anyway, ignoring the taste. It would cure your anxiety - or at least act like a placebo effect.

The living room was even more crowded than the hallway and the kitchen. It had you on edge, fingers quivering around your cup despite Hyunjin and Felix hanging off of your either arm. These were the exact types of parties you hadn’t been invited to in high school, and now you were there. Honestly? It was kind of underwhelming, despite the amount of people.

“Okay, it’s time to meet your two footballers!” Felix sounded excited, almost bouncing. When you turned to him, Hyunjin was standing on his other side with blushing cheeks and a just as excited smile. You sighed. This was going to be awkward. There was a circle of footballers and cheerleaders sitting around in a circle, an empty bottle being spun around and landing on whoever was going to be asked truth or dare. The other new recruits were already handcuffed - oh, no. Were you late?

“You’re late!” Jihyo shrieked, shooting up from her spot on the floor. That answered your question. Her skirt was just as short as yours, which made you feel better. She wore it as if it was meant for her, though. You knew you just looked weird. She flicked her short, dark red hair out of her face before pointing at two males in the circle. “You’re partnered with Jisung and Minho.”

“Who?” You whispered, before Felix giggled loudly.

“Jihyo, that’s evil. Not those two! Especially not Minho!” Felix yelled, making your jaw drop.

You were suddenly very intimidated. You already were, but now the guy you were forced to be handcuffed to was, well… you’d have to ask. “Oh, no. Is he nasty?”

Jihyo shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Ask him yourself.”

All of a sudden, you were being pushed down by Jihyo into the large, uneven circle of people into the gap between the two football players. You could literally feel your hands sweating and just hoped to God that the two boys beside you couldn’t feel it. Felix and Hyunjin had moved to the opposite end of the room, not part of the circle but still monitoring the situation. Jihyo kneeled in front of you, fiddling with two sets of handcuffs until they were successfully attached to both of your wrists.

It was time to bite the bullet. You looked to your left as Jihyo was attaching the other end of your handcuffs to one of the football players. You were met with feline-like eyes, plump lips and broad shoulders appearing even broader with the shoulder pads from his uniform. His eyes flitted to you and he looked to be holding back a grin. Were you that ridiculous? The guy was beautiful. It made you feel slightly insecure even just sitting next to him.

Turning to your right, you saw your other assigned football player. You were met with softer features this time - round, chocolate brown eyes and a doll-like mouth, surrounded by the cutest pouty cheeks. Unlike the first guy, this one raised his spare hand with a little ‘hello!’ and you smiled, waving back. He was cute when he smiled at you, his teeth gleaming in the low light. He seemed friendly, so you introduced yourself.

“Hi! I’m Jisung, that one on your other side is Minho. He’s kinda grumpy, but he means well,” Jisung told you, making you giggle. Minho tried to reach over you to swat Jisung, but the handcuffs prohibited his movements. “Damn! Okay, okay, he’s not grumpy.”

“I’m really nice,” Minho said, smiling softly at you. You took a mental note of his cute bunny teeth. “I’m definitely not grumpy. Not to pretty girls, anyway.”

You could literally feel yourself blushing.

“Um, okay,” You blurted. Jisung choked on a laugh. “So, what’s the rules of this whole thing? How do I get set free?”

“You have to drink every time you refuse to answer a question or do a dare. Once you’ve answered five questions or when you’ve done five dares, we get set free,” When you turned to Jisung upon him speaking, it seemed like his face was closer. You blushed. His hair was long but pushed relatively back, and his red and white uniform looked to be cinched around a very slender waist. He was fucking hot. It had you imagining - would they both fuck you if you asked? At the same time? They seemed to come as a package deal. “It’s super simple. I bet it’ll only take, like, an hour.”

“An hour?!” An hour of being locked up to these two sexy men. You’d die.

“Yep,” Jihyo chirped. When she spun the bottle, sitting on the other end of it to you, it landed on you as if she’d planned it. You groaned. Jisung was pouring extra vodka into your cup. “Okay, truth or dare?”

Truth seemed the safest. “Truth.”

“Do you think anyone in this room is sexy?”

A giggle brought your attention to Hyunjin, legs splayed over another football player. You thought it was Chan, one of the Aussies that Felix was close with. “She obviously thinks I’m hot. I mean, everyone does.”

“Hyunjin, shut up,” Minho said, but he sounded fond. Interesting. So your best friends knew these sexy ass guys, and didn’t introduce you to them. How selfish.

“I’m going to have to drink, unfortunately. I don’t really want to make it awkward..” You mumbled, taking a large gulp from your cup. Unfortunately, Jisung had poured vodka in it and nothing else, so you grimaced as the burn travelled down your throat. Jisung giggled again from beside you. Evil. He was evil. “Jisung!”

Jisung only laughed louder, refilling your drink after the massive amount you’d downed. Minho, however, was still staring at you with an unreadable look.

“Really?” He questioned. “You won’t even admit it?”

You blushed. “I-“

“Leave her alone, Lee Minho! If she wants to drink, she can drink,” Felix shouted to your defence. You gave him a smile, very thankful. You didn’t want to be interrogated by the exact person you found sexy. Well, one of the two.

Unfortunately, the rest of the game went quite similar to the first round. You’d be asked a personal question, or told to do a dare that was definitely too unruly for you, and then you’d drink. Always drinking the straight vodka that Jisung gave you had an impact, too - before you knew it, you were slurring your words and your head was fuzzy with the effects of being tipsy. Jisung was laughing at you, just as drunk, and Minho was looking between you two with an amused expression.

Minho being a tease was another thing you managed to work out. You grumbled at one point, yanking on the handcuffs. “Jihyo, can I be let out now? I’ve drunk more than anyone else and ‘m tipsy, please!”

Minho chuckled, inching closer to you. “You don’t wanna be attached to me anymore? That’s a shame.”

“Never said that,” You mumbled, making your own cheeks blush as you looked at your hands. On your opposite side, Jisung was just as tipsy as you and looked to be giggling at something Felix had said. All of the other recruits were free and had left, but there you were - still looking dumb sat cross legged in your little cheerleader skirt.

“Bestie, should we take you and Hyunnie home? I’m sure you can set her free now, Jihyo,” Your eyes flitted to Felix, and then to Hyunjin, utterly stoned next to him. His eyes were a hue of red and he had a permanent smile on his face. He needed food, and then sleep.

Jihyo nodded hesitantly in response to Felix, and with a swift move, she undid your shackles. You were more than thankful to be free, but - oh. You didn’t want to go. You were kind of having fun drinking with Minho and Jisung. They were easy on the eyes, and all.

“I don’t wanna go!” You whined. “Can I stay? Minho and Jisung will look after me, right?” You knew you were slurring your words, but the way Jisung slung an arm around you made you feel content. Minho even laughed, shaking his head in a fond manner.

“We’ll look after her if she wants to keep drinking, Lixie,” Minho said, his tone hushed. “You know we won’t do anything weird.”

Felix shrugged. “I trust you both. Okay, have her back safe later! I’m gonna carry this lug to get food. Jihyo, you coming?”

When the rest of the room left, you suddenly realised that you were left with Minho and Jisung. You’d only met them that night, and in all honesty - it was kind of awkward now that it was just the three of you. Clearly you were the only one feeling the awkwardness, though. Minho stretched out leisurely like a cat, and Jisung was already in pursuit of a few ciders he found in the corner.

“So, my vote is that me and you wind down with a few ciders, and then Minho rolls us a joint,” Jisung chirped, settling in closer to you. “I’m so buzzed right now, I’m having such a good time. Hey, why have I never seen you around before? You’re friends with Lix and Hyunjin.”

“Ah, parties aren’t really my whole thing. I’m… I’m not very good with lots of people in one place, to be honest,” You felt like you were admitting way too much, too quickly, but Jisung nodded in agreement.

“I’m the same. It’s a bitch, but I’m glad you joined cheerleading. You can knock back vodka like a pro! Even Minho thought so,” Jisung points at Minho. He’d been quiet until now, but the tips of his ears burned a tell-tale crimson.

“It was quite impressive, I have to admit,” Minho nodded. “What made you join cheerleading? Sorry about the twenty-one questions, but you didn’t answer any during the game.”

“Yeah. That’s to do with the whole ‘not good at talking to people’ thing, y’know? But… Now that it’s just the three of us, I think that I’m okay,” You gushed, words slightly slurring together. The two footballers nodded their heads understandingly anyway, Jisung handing you an opened cider. You took the drink gratefully, sipping on the bitter apple taste. “Hyunjin and Felix convinced me to join, to answer your question. I wasn’t a big sports person in school.”

“Same here. I used to do boxing, but never football,” Minho leaned back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him. Jisung still sat cross-legged, much closer to you than Minho was. “I only really took up football in my senior year of high school, because I knew I wanted to come here and they have a pretty good football team.”

You nodded, humming. “What about you, Jisung?”

“I’ve always played,” He swigged back a large amount of cider. His fingers played with a loose thread on his uniform top nervously, until Minho swatted his hand away. Jisung giggled, then carried on talking. “Me and my elder brother play. It’s kind of a family thing, I suppose. Hey, Minho, what’s the status of that joint?”

Minho groaned, stretching his arms above his head. “My weed’s in our room,” Minho’s eyes flickered between you and Jisung, and then he bit his lip. Bunny teeth dug into plush skin, and you found your eyes settled directly on it. Minho soothed the bite with his tongue, and then he nodded decisively. “Do you wanna come up and get high, watch a movie with us? No funny business, I promise.”

You shrugged. The alcohol had made you considerably less shy. “Why not? I chill with Felix and Hyunjin like this a lot, it’s all good.”

“Yay! You’re actually going to roll one?” Jisung looked elated, grinning at Minho. Minho sighed, standing up.

“Why don’t you just roll one yourself, Ji?” You elbowed Jisung playfully. You had no idea where the nickname came from, but Jisung pouted anyway at your statement.

“I can’t roll. I’m so bad at it. Do you roll?”

You tried to suppress a smile, but it was impossible around these two. “No. Hyunjin rolls for me.”

“God! You’re both like weed princesses. Like pillow princesses, but with weed,” Minho’s fake-insult made you and Jisung fall about in a fit of giggles. “C’mon. I may have something that you can wear, so that you’re more comfortable.”

You and Jisung stumbled up the stairs behind Minho, still giggling when you arrived at their room. It was bigger than you expected, two twin beds pushed apart with one side of the room reasonably clean. You assumed that was Minho’s, because the other side contained an unmade bed and rap artist posters that just screamed Jisung’s energy to you. There was quite a large TV situated in the middle of the room, between the two beds and pushed against the wall.

“Are we pushing the beds together?” Jisung asked, as if this was a normal occurrence. Minho hummed dismissively, starting to dig through one of his drawers. Jisung started moving the beds in front of the TV just as Minho pulled out a decent looking t-shirt and shorts, passing them to you.

“You can change in here, we’ll turn around. I’ve gotta roll us a joint anyway,” You nodded at Minho’s words. You watched as Minho walked over to the desk, back facing you and you wiggled out of your uniform. You had to remember to bring that home the next day - it was the first game tomorrow.

It hit you that you were in the shared room of two boys you’d met for the first time that night. Jisung was laid on the bed solemnly with his eyes shut so he couldn’t see you, and Minho was facing away while he rolled the joint. They were respectful, but nonetheless this was so, so out of character for you - you were even putting one of their t-shirts on while you were having an internal breakdown. Weirdly, you trusted them. They were open, friendly with you from the get go.

“I never do stuff like this,” You admitted, blushing. When you finally turned around, now fully clothed, Jisung was only in pyjama bottoms. You had to avoid the urge to freak out because where was he hiding that body? He was broad but lean, the hint of abdominal muscles on his tummy. He was sexy, and his waist was just as slender as you thought. You shrugged it off anyway, and Minho turned to face you, licking the joint. That almost also caused an internal freak out, because why is he keeping eye contact while he’s licking it like that?

“Like what?” Minho mumbled, staring at his work of art.

“I’m normally first to leave the party. I never stay late and chill with people in their homes. I’m just… not like that.”

“I get it,” Jisung agreed, shifting on the bed sheets. He patted a space next to him and you climbed onto the makeshift double bed obediently, laying down with your hands folded over your tummy. “It’s the people thing, right? But, you’re being bold. We’re about to get high. The most important thing is… are you having fun?”

Were you? God, you were. Two attractive men were about to smoke weed with you, one of your all time favourite pastimes to get rid of your anxiety, and you were going to chill and watch a movie too. That’s your top idea of fun. You found yourself smiling, nodding up at Jisung, to which he smiled back. He understood.

When you finally turned away from Jisung after a second too long, Minho had changed too, into some grey shorts and a t-shirt. You stared at his thighs while he cracked open a window, and then he was on the bed in front of you.

“The guest of honour should light the joint,” He mused, handing it to you. “It’s the rules.”

“Um.. I need an ashtray. Is it really okay to smoke in here, like-“

“Everyone in this house smokes in their rooms,” Jisung comforted you. After that, he was handing you a small transparent dish. “Ash it in here. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

The first inhale of the joint was delicious. You much preferred being high and open minded than drunk and open minded - it was more fun that way. You tended to just brush things off with a laugh rather than overthink them. After a few tokes, you passed it to Minho, and he asked the most important question.

“What film should we watch?” Jisung looked at you. You looked at Jisung, and then you were both looking at Minho. Minho sighed, exhaling smoke in your direction. “You’re both going to make me choose.”

“Yup!” Jisung chirped, snatching the joint out of Minho’s hand. Minho grumbled, displeased but still smiling as he reached for the remote. Within a few minutes, he’d clicked on some random comedy film on Netflix. The joint was passed around until the room was sufficiently hazy and all three of you were laying on the bed, you in the middle.

You felt a little trapped, but not in a claustrophobic sense. The boys were so, so close to you, and even though you three were all relaxed and laughing at the film, the secret pervert inside of you couldn’t help but rear its head. You could make out with them right now. You won’t, but you could. It’d be way too bold for you to do that, and-

“We should make out,” Jisung’s voice cut through the giggles. Minho swatted him, still laughing but chiding as if Jisung was a child. You, however, were wide-eyed.

“M-Make out?”

“Making out is better when you’re high,” Minho explained, his cheeks blazing red from the effects of the weed. “He always asks me to make out too.”

You blinked. Your eyes flitted between the two men, Jisung still gazing at you. “You two..?”

“We make out all the time. Sometimes we fuck, no strings attached. It’s fun,” Jisung said, shifting on the bed so that he was closer to you. “You wanna make out?”

Could you? You’d been extremely bold, and that was even further than bold. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t been thinking of it all night, though, and if Hyunjin and Felix could see you now, they’d be so proud.

You answered Jisung’s question by grabbing his head, one hand on the back of it and yanking him down to kiss you. He squeaked in surprise, but he was quick to let his tongue press into your mouth, pouty lips wet against yours. He was half-laying on top of you, the position a little awkward but God, he was right. It felt so much better making out with someone when you were high. You let your tongue press against his, the kiss more of a sloppy exchange than a real, precise kiss.

You pulled away with a wet noise, humming. “‘S better, you were right.”

“Yeah?” Jisung asked, his eyes trained on your lips. “Again, then?”

“Yeah.” This time, he was initiating the kiss, his hands going to your waist. His touch was light, but you squirmed to feel more of his hands on top of you. You wanted more, especially when his teeth lightly nipped on your bottom lip and his lips sucked your tongue into his mouth. It was filthy, and it had something burning in your gut in the most delicious way.

“You two look fucking amazing,” Minho. You’d kind of forgotten he was there. When you pulled away again, you turned, staring at him. His eyes were dark and his cute teeth were biting into his bottom lip again, looking pillowy and plush.

“Min,” You murmured, grabbing his hand. Jisung let out a puff of air, amused. “C’mere. I wanna kiss you too.”

“You sure?” Minho asked, but he was already moving from his place on the pillows to where you were, just a bit further down. Jisung moved off of you, obediently letting Minho take his place. Minho’s hand came up to your face, one thumb swiping along your bottom lip. It was still wet from Jisung’s mouth. “I’m not going to fuck you. You’ve had too much to drink, and smoke… But I’ll make out with you, is that okay?”

“Mm, yeah. This is super bold for me,” You giggled. In the same breath, you took Minho’s thumb into your mouth. You sucked on it, just a soft suction, but Minho still sighed deeply, eyes trained on your mouth.

“I think you’re sexy when you’re bold. You’re cute otherwise, too,” Jisung chimed in, making you smile. Before you could answer, Minho was leaning down, his dark hair tickling your forehead as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. He was more calculated than Jisung, his hand that was on your face previously now enveloped in your hair, pulling the strands just a little. It made you whine against his mouth, squirming, and he replied with a bite to your lip. “Is it good? He’s a good kisser, isn’t he?”

You hummed, still pulling Minho in for more. His shoulders were shaking as if he wanted to laugh at how eager you were, but he continued with kissing you filthily instead. When you started to squirm again, he pulled away, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down instead.

“I think you need a little more,” He mused, nose still brushing against yours. His eyes were enrapturing, as if they held a thousand secrets behind them. You wanted to know more about him, and more about the cute Jisung who was just as anxious as you. Could you be greedy and have them both?

“I want more,” You agreed, nodding. Minho hummed, and then he was collecting spit in his mouth. He let it drop into yours, and you heard Jisung whine, before he was shimmying back towards you. He gently pushed Minho out of the way, and you kept Minho’s spit on your tongue as if you knew what Jisung wanted to do.

“Oh my God, ‘s so hot,” You heard Jisung mumble, before he was pressing his lips against yours again. You felt him lick the collected spit out of your mouth, before he was pushing his own onto your tongue. He sucked your tongue again, whining into the kiss. You could feel something moving on the bed, and eventually, you worked out it was Jisung pushing his hips into the mattress impatiently. When he pulled away, his lips went to your neck instantly, sucking a deep red mark into your collarbone.

“Sungie,” Minho mumbled. “You need to calm down. She’s drunk a lot tonight. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Jisung looked at Minho with stars in his eyes. You nodded, hands gripping Jisung’s biceps. His skin was delicate, honey-toned and muscly, showing the effects of the sport he played. He was fucking sexy. You wanted Minho to be shirtless too. “Another time,” You agreed. “I want you both another time. Can I…? Is that too much, I-”

“We want you too,” Jisung turned to you, his forehead pressed against yours. Now that he was closer again, you let your legs spread, welcoming him to press against you. He was hard, solid in his cute pyjama bottoms, and you wanted to whine. “We want to have you. But, tonight isn’t the best idea. You may regret it.”

“I’d never regret it-”

“Gorgeous girl,” Minho cooed at you, soft as he pressed a kiss into your hairline. They were both enveloping you, warm, soft bodies that were just as toned as they were delicate. Your heart rate was so fast you were convinced you could die. “Gorgeous fucking girl. We’ll take you another time, yeah? Not tonight. You can sleep tonight.”

All of a sudden, sleep sounded amazing. You let yourself hum in agreement, and Jisung moved off of you, curling around your side. “‘M actually quite sleepy, yeah.”

“Thought so,” Minho chuckled, sidling up to your other side. He let you wiggle closer, head on his chest, and Jisung followed you, his chest pressed up against your back. It was comfortable, cosy on the two beds pushed together. “Go to sleep, gorgeous. We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up delirious. You could feel your head pulsating with the beginning of a hangover, and you were just so confused - where were you?

It only took one look at Jisung, lips parted and soft snores coming from his chest to remind you. Oh, yeah. You looked towards your other side, seeing Minho stretched out and full, heavy breaths reverberating around the room from his deep slumber. You’d made out with them both. You didn’t feel any regret, either. You’d done something that was so unusual for you, and it had worked out brilliantly. You’d had the best time.

You knew you’d be embarrassed when they woke up, though. You managed to detangle yourself from the two boys, wiggling out of the makeshift bed and finding your uniform quite easily. You’d tried to make as little noise as possible, but the sound of sheets rustling from the bed caught your attention.

“You’re leaving?” Minho. You turned around, blinking at him. He looked almost insecure, leaning up on his hands and tilting his head at you in question. “Do you… regret what happened?”

Shaking your head quickly, you moved back to the bed. You let one hand caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch, eyes soft and bleary from sleep. “I don’t regret it at all, Min. I had the best time. I just… I need to get home, and see Hyunnie and Lix, you know? But, um…” You felt awkward, anxious again. One look at Minho convinced you that you didn’t have to be. “I want to see you both again. Is that… a little weird? I just, I really enjoyed, and I-”

“Absolutely,” Minho agreed. He moved to sit closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “Give me your phone.”

You blinked. Where was it? Digging through your uniform, you found it tucked into one of the inside pockets of the skirt, and you triumphantly handed it to him. You watched him make two contact names, and send both a quick ‘hi’ text so that they had your number, too. It was still shocking. You couldn’t quite believe it. Could you be greedy, and have both? Jisung was still asleep and snoring, and you found yourself smiling at him. He was bundled up in the blanket like a little burrito.

Minho handed your phone back, kissing your forehead. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

You practically ran out of the house, in all honesty. You were still dressed in Minho’s clothes, and once you’d slid your shoes back on, you started to walk back to your own home. You were pretty sure it wasn’t a long walk, and it wasn’t, all things considered - you were back home within five minutes, and you swung the door open.

Wait. It was unlocked? It was unlocked the whole night, while you’d been out acting like a fucking celebrity, and now someone had probably broken in, and-

You tiptoed into the living room, almost terrified, and then you saw Hyunjin and Felix. Both were eating cup noodles, staring at the TV where some random drama was on. Do hangovers just not exist for those two? Why hadn’t they even text, to see how you were? What the fuck was wrong with them?

“You’re home!” Felix said, cheerful as always. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring between the two. They have their own homes. Why were they there? They were showered, wet hair visible and with fresh clothes on. Your clothes, you noted. The t-shirt was a little too tight on Hyunjin’s shoulders.

“Why aren’t you at your own fucking houses, guys?” You scoffed, sprawling on the sofa. Your head landed on Hyunjin’s lap, and he spoonfed you a serving of noodles. You chewed it happily. You did love them, deep down.

“You’re confident after last night,” He mused. With his spare hand, he yanked down your - no, Minho’s t-shirt, and you were too slow to stop him from seeing it. Bright as day, the mark that Jisung had sucked into your skin was darkening as the time went on, a perfect giveaway of what you’d been up to the night before. “Oh my God. Felix, look!”

Felix leaned over, the three of you intertwined like a pretzel, and then his jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Who- which one was that?!”

You felt almost smug as you sat up, pulling the t-shirt back into place. “That was Jisung.”

Hyunjin gasped. Felix was grinning, wide and blinding. “That leads me to believe you may have had fun with both of them, right?” Hyunjin giggled, poking at your side. You scoffed, kicking him in the leg.

That brought back your anxiety, however. You’d had fun with both of them, made out with both of them, and they were both fucking gorgeous and so, so kind to you. They both seemed interested. They had to be, or why would they both kiss you? “Um… Yeah, I did, but… I want to see them both again. I can’t, though, like… it’s not logical.”

Felix tilted his head to the side. “Why not, sweetie?”

“Because there’s two of them? Like, what kind of a question is that-”

“What kind of a person are you if you’ve never heard of polyamory?” Hyunjin berated you through a mouthful of noodles. Your eyebrows raised in shock. He had a point. That had never even crossed your mind. “I mean, they have their own thing going on. They’re soulmates, everyone knows that.”

“But.. they’re not together. Sungie told me it was just a no-strings-attached type of thing-”

“Sungie?!” Felix squealed. “That’s so- so cute!”

Hyunjin glared at Felix, trying to get him to shut up so he could speak. “They’re soulmates, but they’re not together. It’s like best friend soulmates, except they make out and fuck sometimes. It makes sense for them both wanting to date the same girl is what I’m saying,” Hyunjin shrugged as if you’d thought of this before. You felt dumb. Why hadn’t you thought of that, actually? “The game’s tonight, too. You’ll see them again.”

“So… I should go for it?” You asked, feeling slightly insecure. You’d gone for it last night, and nothing ended badly. Could you do it again, though?

“Absolutely,” They both agreed, literally at the same time. You sighed, before nodding. You could do this. But you’d forgotten to text Minho, so that had to happen first.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[11:31am] Minho: Looking forward to seeing your ass in that skirt again tonight.

That text had been running circles in your head all day. Felix and Hyunjin had screamed when you showed them what he’d said. If anyone asked, you’d never admit that you’d put on some nice pink lace underwear underneath your skirt just in case. You felt a blush spread across your face as you reread his text.

A feeling of anticipation spread through you as you waited for the game to start. Cheerleaders were meant to take to the field first, and then the footballers would come on afterwards. It wasn’t a serious game, just one of the preliminary ones against another university team that could be considered as amateur. You could still feel your heart rate picking up as you all flooded onto the field, Felix dragging you along with his arm wrapped around yours comfortingly. The pom poms were literally almost slipping from your hands with how nervous you were, clammy and hot under the stadium lights.

As it wasn’t a serious game, the stands weren’t that full, which made you feel a little more relaxed. Jihyo had chosen this game for you to start for a reason, clearly. You were still yet to get used to having eyes on you, eagerly awaiting a cheer to sprout from your mouth. It was anything but ideal, and you would have rather been anywhere else at that moment.

Thankfully, your cheer routine to introduce the game went without a hitch and Hyunjin high fived you afterwards. When the subsequent clapping and cheers from the stalls died down, you nervously anticipated the footballers’ arrivals. They were like kings in your university, after all, and now you’d found yourself embroiled in something sexy and almost… heartfelt with two of them. You felt a little bit silly. You were definitely reading too much into things too quick.

Then, the captain arrived. Chan was someone you were vaguely familiar with, since he was extremely close with Hyunjin and you’d actually seen him the night before. He didn’t spare any of you a second glance as he bounced onto the field, the cheers starting back up again, but you hadn’t expected anything different. In all honesty, you’d expected Jisung and Minho to ignore you all, too, because it was game time. They needed to have their game faces on, quite literally. Waving at the cheerleaders would distract from that.

You could literally hear Felix and Hyunjin both snickering at you as your two love interests bounded onto the field. You elbowed them both sharply, making Hyunjin groan and attempt to fight back before Felix was yanking him back by his hair.

Surprisingly, Jisung halted on his journey across the field. He was almost directly in front of you. You stared at him with a confused expression while he used his hand to cover the massive lights dotted around the university stadium, spinning around in a circle until he saw you. Your expression quickly morphed into shock as he dropped his helmet on the floor, grabbing Minho by the arm and bounded over to you.

“You left before I woke up,” He pouted, out of breath from running. Minho was just snickering beside him, arms crossed over his chest with his red helmet still in hand. You gaped, jaw dropped.

“I- Jisung, you have a game to play,” You hissed, pom poms now dangerously close to slipping from your sweaty hands. Jisung simply laughed, inching closer to you.

“Don’t care. Can I come over after the game? Minho’s busy with an assignment, he’s such a smarty pants,” Jisung reeled off statements, each one as quick as the last one. Minho just watched him, staring at you both with an amused look. You just stood there, staring at Jisung. Felix and Hyunjin were giggling. You could hear them. Pricks. Everyone on the stalls had started to murmur amongst themselves, wondering why two of the star players were talking to some random cheerleader. “Oh my God, I know I’m being weird but stop staring at me. I promise I’ll shower before I come over.”

“Jisung! Yes, you can come over but people are starting to stare, please go to your team-”

“Alright! See you later,” In the most shocking turn of events to date, in all of history actually, was that Jisung pressed a sweet peck to your lips and skipped back to his team. That was bad enough. What made matters even worse was Minho kissing you, too, just as chaste as Jisung’s kiss. He ruffled your hair and followed Jisung off to the other end of the field.

“Well, that answers our question,” Felix said, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re all dating.”

Hyunjin swatted Felix, still staring in the direction of Minho and Jisung. “Don’t say that. They need to actually ask her first. She’s not settling for less than that, you know?”

Unsurprisingly, the boys won. Minho and Jisung were grinning at you when the score was official, 22-16 to your university. You watched wordlessly as they bounced towards the locker room, everyone cheering and slapping each other on the backs. You knew what would happen now. Jisung would shower, and then he’d wait for you outside for you to get changed, too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“I got loads of sweets from the vending machine,” Jisung babbled once you reached your front door. You had wondered what the plastic carrier bag in his hand was, slapping off of his jogger-clad leg while you walked home. “I wanted to show you this super cool documentary I found. It’s about this really small cat, but it’s really brave. Minho liked it.”

He was so fucking endearing. He was still going on about the documentary as you just smiled and nodded, leading him to your room. Your room was slightly embarrassing, something you noted as he stepped inside of it. It was very pink, very girly and the double bed had multiple cute pillows scattered all over it. He picked up a heart shaped one anyway, sprawling on the bed with it clutched tightly to his chest.

“So,” you began, throwing yourself onto his bed next to him. You were glad you’d taken comfortable clothes to change in after the game - you still had the nice underwear on, y’know, just in case. “Tell me more about this little cat.”

“Oh my God,” Jisung gushed, thrashing around as if he couldn’t handle how cute the cat was. You giggled, grabbing his arm to stabilise him. “It’s this little cat. He's so tiny, but he’s really brave. He’s all spotty too, like a little leopard. He’s so cute but he’s really daring. It- it kind of-” Jisung trailed off, staring at the wall.

He was getting shy. You rubbed your hand over his arm, smiling softly. “Kind of what, Sungie?”

“Kind of reminded me of you,” Jisung mumbled. His hands clenched around the pillow. “Like, it was really cute, but so brave. I showed it to Minho this morning, and - he agreed. It’s like you. You’re so brave, and cute, and you’re quite small, too. Smaller than us, I mean. You were really brave last night. I could tell you’re kinda shy, but you still spoke to us, and opened up to us. It was nice to see. I’m- I’m interested in you. I like you, I guess, we both do. I know it’s early, but-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, he was wide-eyed, fingers tight on the pillow. You smiled, nuzzling your nose against his. “I am shy. But I don’t feel that shy around you and Min, because… I guess I like you too. I enjoyed last night way too much to be healthy. It is early, but I’ve decided I don’t care.”

“Yay,” Jisung mumbled, and then he was kissing you again. He threw the pillow to the side, hands enveloping in your hair and pulling you closer. Kissing Jisung was like heaven. It just felt right, and it felt like a reward both times you’d done it. You wanted to do it a lot more. When your thigh shifted to get closer to him, to feel him more, you felt a solid obtrusion in your way. You blinked, forehead against his so you could stare down at his pants.

“You’re hard..?” You questioned, staring at the sizable tent in Jisung’s trousers. He blushed crimson at your statement, and yanked on his trousers to try and cover it.

“Yeah, I’m hard because you’re fucking hot,” He mumbled, looking up at you with dark, round eyes. You tilted your head, confused.

“I’m… hot?”

“You’re even hotter because you don’t know it!” He huffed, finally giving up on hiding it. He sprawled back against your bedsheets, hair fanned around his head. Now that he’d stopped moving, you could really look at it. It was clearly hard, length pressed tightly against his joggers and a spot of precum leaking through onto the grey fabric. “I came over just to talk to you, just to chill and tell you about that cute cat, and now… my dick is fucking hard.” He sounded distraught, and you giggled. Time to bite the bullet, yet again.

“Want me to help?” You asked, shifting so that you were on top of his lap. He jolted, hands coming to grab your hips with wide eyes. He moved so that he was leaning up against your pillows, and his t-shirt rose a little with the movement, exposing that delicious honey toned skin. Your eyes were fixated on it immediately. “I want… I want to fuck you, so bad. I can ride you. If you want.”

Jisung huffed again, blowing hair out of his face with the puff of air. “We can’t. Minho will want to be here the first time all three of us fuck properly.”

“Oh?” That was cute, actually. It was nice knowing that he did like you as much as you liked him, this quick, after just one night of chatting and making out. You were all down bad, all three of you. “I can jerk you off though, right?” You were talking a lot of smack for someone who’d never actually jerked off a guy before.

“Oh God, yes, please,” He whimpered, and you rolled your hips down on top of him teasingly. It made him gasp, before he was pushing you off, yanking his joggers down impatiently. You almost choked on air in shock - no wonder you could see everything, the fucker had gone commando after his post-game shower. He gripped his cock, a tight ring around the base as if to show you just how hard it was. When you looked at him, now positioned on his thighs, his eyes were watery and pleading.

“I… I’ve never done this before, so you’ll have to guide me. Tell me what you like, ‘kay?” You ordered, and Jisung nodded, releasing his cock so you could grab it yourself. The head peeked out from beneath his foreskin, wet with precum and dripping onto the smattering of pitch black hair at his base. It was thick, not overly long but a perfect length, actually. It had you dripping into your nice panties, and you internally grimaced. They’d be ruined after this. You wanted him to see the effect he had on you, and you gripped his shaft tightly, pumping experimentally.

“Oh,” Jisung whined, “tighter around the head. And- and, please, spit on it, make it wet, I-” You obliged, spitting on the head and wrapping your fingers around it just a bit tighter. It was noisy after that, making a slick noise every time you got to the head and pulled a bit more. His hips were kicking up, fucking up into your fist as he let out unabashed whines.

“You sound so pretty,” You admitted, kissing his cheek. He managed to catch you in a kiss, whimpering as your tongue swiped over his. His eyes were even glassier when you pulled back, clear tears adorning the dark chocolate colour. “I want to fuck you so bad, Jisung.”

“Yeah? You do?” Jisung asked, his hands reaching out to grab your wrist firmly. You barely managed to continue pumping past his tight grip, grinning when you saw the head of his cock get wetter. You gasped as you felt his grip on your wrist tighten even more, the pleasure-pain radiating through your body. You felt an electric shock when you felt his breath on your neck, his soft lips leaving a trail of kisses as you continued to pump his erection. You watched his thighs clench, partially obscured by the fabric caught beneath you, and his eyes shut as he let out an incoherent moan. “I’m- gettin’ there. Gonna cum soon, gonna-”

It was sloppy and messy, but you didn’t care. You felt yourself getting wetter the more you pumped, and Jisung moaned in response. His thighs clenched and unclenched as he got closer and closer to orgasm, and you knew he was about to cum. All of a sudden, you had a wanting inside of you to taste his cock, and you shifted down his legs to engulf the head in your mouth. It had a slight salty taste, not unpleasant but unfamiliar. The look on Jisung’s face was worth it. His eyes were wide, jaw dropped as you swirled the tongue over his head.

“Oh, yeah, look at me,” You obliged, looking up with doe eyes as you sucked harshly on his cockhead. You used your hand to continue pumping, and as if it was unexpected, he gasped and let out a loud whine. “So beautiful, what the fuck? I can’t handle it- oh. Oh, I’m cumming-”

The taste flooded your mouth, hot cum hitting your tastebuds. Again, it wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar. You had many plans to get used to the taste. Jisung’s hand clutched your head as he writhed throughout his orgasm, deep sighs and pants coming from his lips. You ran your tongue around him one more time, before pulling off and smiling at him.

“Jeez, that was- what? You swallowed?” You nodded. Were you not meant to? You thought you were. Jisung whined, covering his face with his hands. “That’s so sexy. You’re so sexy. Can I eat you out, please?”

“Is that… will Minho be okay with that?” You replied, but you still let Jisung push you back into your sheets. Jisung nodded, yanking down your trousers. You’d almost forgotten about the underwear. The second delicate, pink lace met Jisung’s eye, his jaw dropped, and he was gasping as if he’d only just finished his match.

“Is it… does it match?” Jisung asked, and you nodded. You hesitantly grabbed your shirt, yanking it up to show the pink balcony bra that matched your thong. Jisung looked like he’d seen God, eyes wide and almost comical with the way his soft cock was pressed against the sheets. He was looking at you like you hung the fucking moon. “I gotta FaceTime Minho. Can I? He’s gonna fucking die if I show him this.”

“Woah-” You jolted as Jisung reached over, grabbing his phone from the joggers at the end of the bed. You got a nice view of his ass as he bent over, peachy and with a cute little hole begging to be teased. Okay. You’d need to address that mentally later. “You can call him, but isn’t he working?”

“Yeah, but he’ll wanna see this,” Jisung mumbled. You watched him flick through contacts until he was phoning the other counterpart to your love triad, and it only took two rings for Minho to answer. “Minho. Look.”

You wanted to hide, exposed with your top pulled up above your tits and your core clenching around nothing. Jisung hadn’t even given Minho a chance to speak, but you could hear Minho’s sharp inhale of breath through the phone.

“You better not have fucked her, Sungie.”

“No, he- we didn’t have sex, Min, promise,” You said, urgently trying to make sure the other man wasn’t angry at you. Jisung flipped the camera around again, nodding solemnly at him. “He- he wants to, um…”

“I wanna eat her out, and I’m going to. You wanna see, hyung?” Jisung was cocky when he said it, waiting for Minho’s reply with a raised eyebrow. You were baffled - you could’ve sworn you’d never heard Jisung address Minho like that. Perhaps it was only a bedroom thing? Minho obviously gave his affirmation to seeing you, because Jisung handed you the phone. You were kind of hazy from the whole conversation, and you looked confusedly at the camera when it showed you and not Jisung settling between your legs.

“Hey, gorgeous. You look tasty,” You giggled at Minho’s words. He had glasses perched on his nose and his hair was pushed back, a casual grey hoodie over his shoulders. He was so fucking cute. “Wanna turn the camera so I can see Sungie eating that pussy?”

“Mm, yeah, okay,” Jisung was nosing over your underwear when you flipped the camera around, and you obediently kept it at an angle where Minho could see your tummy and your lace-covered core. He groaned when his eyes focused on the expanse of your skin, soft under the lighting of your bedroom.

“Sungie’s really good with his tongue, gorgeous,” Minho said, and you hummed. You’d never been eaten out before and you were on edge, thighs shaking. On Jisung’s phone, you could see where the camera had started to shake from your nerves and Minho’s hand had crept into his trousers.

“Min, I wanna see you,” You groaned, head falling back against your pillows. Jisung snickered between your legs, and then he was hooking his thumbs into your underwear, pulling them down. Minho shook his head, groaning at the sight of your swollen clit pressing against Jisung’s lips.

“You can see me another time, I need to see that pussy. Is she wet, Sungie?”

Jisung ran his tongue through your folds and you jolted, legs automatically spreading wider. The sensation was so intimate, so personal and so fucking hot. “She’s fuckin’ soaked, hyung. Tastes amazing,” Jisung murmured. Then, like a man starved, he was diving into your folds. His tongue drew zigzags along your slit, licking up the accumulated slick and letting it lube your clit when he got to it. Pouty lips wrapped around the little button and sucked hard, and you whined, hips bucking into his mouth.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Minho asked, and you hummed, eyes fixated on the mop of dark hair between your legs. Jisung looked up at you, eyes round and blown with lust, and you felt yourself gush onto his tongue. Minho groaned, clearly feeling the effects of seeing Jisung’s eyes so dark. “Tell me how it feels, jagi. I want to know what he’s doing.”

Jagi? Oh God, you could die. “It’s- he’s licking my, um, hole, and then he’s licking my clit, and it’s- ah, ‘s so good, so good, never had this before, I-“

“No one’s ever eaten that sloppy cunt before?” Minho questioned, and you moaned, letting out a small confirmation. Jisung was ravenous, head bobbing as he let you ride his tongue with the bucks of your hips. “That’s a shame, jagi. You’ve got us now, yeah? Jisung loves eating pussy.”

“I do,” Jisung added, pulling away. Then, two fingers breached your entrance and Jisung was curling them up, rubbing right against your g-spot. You hadn’t even managed to reach this spot when you were alone, let alone with the one guy you’d slept with, and you let out a squeal, almost dropping the phone. Jisung hissed, kitten licking over your clit. “This pussy’s tight, hyung.”

“Yeah?” Minho’s voice was strained all of a sudden, and you watched as he threw his head back against his computer chair. “I can’t wait to fuck you, jagi. I can’t wait to fuck you, and I’m gonna- gonna fuck you raw, and-“

“Oh my God, I’m gonna cum if you keep talking,” You whined, thrashing around on Jisung’s fingers. He didn’t pump his fingers, only rubbing his fingertips against your g-spot and sucking over your clit. It was like he knew your body, playing it like it was an instrument until it made the most beautiful noise.

Minho groaned, and Jisung had the biggest grin on his face as he watched you get closer to your climax. “Yeah? You like the idea of me fucking you raw? Maybe- maybe I’ll fucking breed that cunt, yeah?”

“Oh, fucking- shit, shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna- hnng, Ji, Sungie, please don’t stop, I’m gonna-“

“You’re kinda dirty, y’know, about to cum to the idea of hyung breeding you,” Jisung mumbled, but the look on his face signified he knew what he was doing. You clenched on his fingers and let out a stuttered breath, just balancing precariously on the edge of your orgasm. “Maybe I’ll fuck you raw too. Then you can have both of our loads dripping out of this cunt, yeah?”

That did it for you. The idea of them both taking you raw, fucking you until their cum spurts inside of you, both loads of cum - you wailed, sent headfirst into your orgasm. You had stars dancing all over your clenched shut eyes, the arousal leaking over Jisung’s fingers in the most powerful orgasm you’d ever had, including when you’d make yourself cum. Oh, well. You’d just have to come back for more.

When you opened your eyes, Jisung slid his fingers out of you with a wet noise, popping them into his mouth and sucking them clean. Heavy breathing directed your attention to Minho who still sat on the call, but now with his chest heaving and cum splattered on his hoodie. He grimaced, looking down at the fabric.

“Oh, no,” Jisung whined, staring up at you. You raised an eyebrow in question. “I didn’t even get to take your bra off!”

You giggled, kicking him playfully. “Are you a boob guy, Sungie?”

“Yes! Minho likes ass, I like tits. That’s why you need us both.”

You rolled your eyes. “I guess I can’t argue with that reasoning.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Your life was turning out to be a fairytale.

You hadn’t seen the boys for a week at that point, the night of yet another party. You insisted you weren’t going, but of course Hyunjin was Hyunjin and had roped you into the tightest skirt you owned and made you come. It was only made relatively comfortable by the fact you, Minho and Jisung had been texting in your recently made groupchat, and they’d be attending the party too. You could hopefully sneak away from the party with them, since you knew it wasn’t Jisung’s preferred scene either.

You pulled at the hem of the skirt, reminding you of the way you had behaved the night you first met your love interests. Hyunjin swatted your hands away this time, and Felix threw a pair of fishnet tights at your head.

“Put these on,” He commanded you. “Minho will go insane.”

He did, when you’d arrived. Felix and Hyunjin had made a beeline for the kitchen when you got to the massive house - which you now knew was Minho and Jisung’s, along with the rest of the football team. You’d wanted to psych yourself up a bit, get yourself ready to see the boys, but you’d come face to face with them as soon as you’d entered the room.

“Oh,” Jisung blurted, eyes trained directly on your thighs. Minho was engrossed in conversation with Chan, but when Jisung grabbed him by the arm to turn him towards you, his jaw dropped. His eyes scanned down your body, completely bypassing the skirt and fixating on your semi-exposed legs.

It had you staring at him, too. You had Jisung in a sexual context, but you were yet to see what was hidden between Minho’s legs. They were both dressed in tight leather trousers, Jisung pairing his with a sleeveless black blazer and nothing underneath. Minho, however, was in a sleeveless khaki tank top, and you thought your heart had stopped. You needed to take it off. He looked built underneath, now that you weren’t seeing him in his baggy football jersey or a comfy t-shirt.

“Oh,” You returned Jisung’s statement. Minho had tits, built pecs that deserved your teeth sinking into them. You couldn’t believe you were being such a pervert, but when you finally looked up at Minho’s face, he was smirking.

Jisung giggled. “Okay! I think we need to get you two upstairs. Lovely to see you, Hyunjin, Felix,” You watched Jisung nod at the two in greeting. The two bastards you called best friends were grinning, elbowing each other in glee as Jisung linked arms with you and Minho. You let yourself be dragged upstairs, and it took everything in you not to fall over drooling at the sight of Minho’s thighs in those tight trousers. When you arrived at their shared room, Jisung shut the door behind you, before staring at you and Minho with an incriminating look. “Are you two in fucking heat or something? Like, damn- oh. Okay.”

He was cut off by Minho throwing you against the wall, one hand yanking your hair back to force his tongue into your mouth. You whined, letting him dominate your lips with his own, and your hands came up to grip his biceps.

When he pulled away, you chased his lips only for him to reach up with one hand and wrap it around your throat, pinning you back to the wall. “Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” You huffed, eyes flickering to Jisung. “Both of you. I haven’t drank anything, you stole me before I could.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re a brat,” Minho retorted, his nose nuzzling against yours as if he was about to kiss you again. He didn’t, only a teasing brush of his lips. “I’ve already got one bonafide brat to deal with.”

Jisung gasped. “Hey!”

Minho shrugged. “It’s true,” His eyes turned back to you, blown with lust. You could see his erection pressed against his pants, and you fixated on it, licking your lips. He chuckled. “Alright, gorgeous. I’ll be nice to you today. Get on the bed.”

You blinked, moving over to the makeshift bed. They’d pushed them together again, and you weren’t sure if they’d just left them like that after last time or if they’d done it tonight. Either way, you were pleased at the idea of you all curling up and sleeping together again.

“Sungie, c’mere,” Minho mumbled, and then in a scene that could have only come from your wet dreams, he was kissing Jisung. His hand was on the back of his head, and the other rested on his waist, pulling him close to kiss him deep and hard. It was filthy, and you squirmed against the sheets, pouting. You wanted to kiss Jisung too.

“Me next,” You blurted. Jisung pulled away, giggling, and then he was climbing onto the bed to loom over you.

“Greedy. I told you I like it when you’re bold, ‘s so sexy,” His lips met yours with a wet noise, tongue automatically pushing into your mouth. The way Jisung kissed always enraptured you - dirty, filthy and open mouthed always, whereas Minho was more precise. You liked the way they balanced eachother out.

“Sungie, you can fuck her first. I want to find out what she likes,” Minho commanded, joining the two of you on the bed. He managed to position you so your back was to his chest, and Jisung was in between your legs, crotch pressing against yours in those fucking leather pants. “I’m guessing you like me talking to you, gorgeous.”

“Yeah, ‘s hot,” You replied, shifting so your hips grinded up against Jisung’s bulge. Jisung sighed, moving to join you in the teasing push and pull. His shaft brushed up against your clit, and you could feel everything from his base to his cockhead. Even just dry humping him felt fucking delicious.

“She likes the idea of being filled up with cum,” Jisung contributed, his lips moving to suck marks into your skin again. He seemed to love doing that.

“My question is, do you like it rough? Would you want me to slap you around a bit, hurt you?” Minho said. His lips were brushing against your earlobe and you whined, bucking up into Jisung sharply.

“I dunno- I dunno, I’ve never tried it,” You admitted, and Minho hummed. Then, with a swift move, his hand was coming down to smack sharply onto your thigh through your fishnets. You gasped, and a gush of wetness flooded your panties. “Oh.”

“She liked that, I fucking felt it,” Jisung mumbled, hair floppy over his eyes. His lips were wet, and you grabbed his head and traced the pouty flesh with your tongue. His hands went up to your top, pushing it up and exposing your bra to both of the boys. Minho was helpful in unclasping it and dropping it from your shoulders. You felt like a doll, lying there surrounded by them both while they touched you all over. It was worth it for the look on Jisung’s face when he saw your tits, and then he was sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You were so on edge it didn’t take long for you to babble. “Oh, fucking God- Ji, Sungie, harder, suck harder, bite them-“

“Bite them?” Minho scoffed. “You do like pain, huh?”

Jisung’s teeth nipped at your bud teasingly, and you squealed, chest arching to meet his mouth. He pulled away, grabbing both tits in his hand and burying his face in between them. “These are magnificent.”

“I’m really happy for you that you like them, Sungie, but I think she might die if she doesn’t get anything inside that cunt soon,” Minho sighed, and you wanted to kiss him in gratitude. You really were about to die.

Jisung nodded obediently, and then he was giving Minho another chaste kiss before inching your skirt up your legs. He struggled with the tight material of it, before he finally got it situated at your waist, and then he couldn’t get the fishnets down. He was struggling, you could see that, and Minho reached over with a sigh and positively ripped the fishnets open.

“Jesus, Minho! They were Felix’s!” Minho shrugged, and then he took the extra, most annoying step and ripped the lace of your panties open, too. Jisung sat there slack jawed, palming his erection over his tight trousers when your pussy was revealed to him, glistening wet in the light.

“You’re soaking, my baby,” Jisung murmured, eyes fixated on your folds. You wiggled eagerly, making Minho pin your hips down. “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes! Wan’ it, wanted it since I saw it,” You whimpered, and Jisung grinned. You watched as he yanked his blazer off, revealing that tiny waist, and then you moaned when he pulled his trousers down and his cock sprang out. It was leaking for you once again, hard as a rock and he pumped it twice, moaning. “Stop teasing, Jisung.”

Minho leaned over, running two fingers through your slit before humming. “Jisung, fuck her. She doesn’t need any prep.”

“You sure, hyung?” Jisung looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

The way they were talking about you like you weren’t even there had more arousal burning in your gut. Minho just grinned, pinching your thigh again just to hear you squeak. “I’m pretty sure the pain will only make it better for her.”

Jisung nodded, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your entrance. You were wet, embarrassingly so, and he teasingly rubbed his cock against your slit a few times. “You still want it raw?”

“Please, oh my God,” You simpered, whining as his tip breached your hole. It was a stretch, but you loved the feeling of it, the large vein on his cock providing the best friction you’d ever felt. The hair on his pubic mound grazed your clit once you’d bottomed out and you gripped Minho’s forearms from where he sat behind you.

Jisung immediately started thrusting feverishly, his hair hanging over his eyes as he felt your drippy hole clench around him. You could feel yourself gushing, covering his pubic hair and his shaft with an embarrassing amount of wetness. You whined when Minho pinched your nipples, his chuckle shaking his chest where it pressed against you.

“Look at my greedy kitties, huh?” Minho cooed. Jisung whined in response, leaning down to suck more marks into your neck. You arched your back, trying to get more friction on your tits. “Fucking each other so desperately like that. It’s so fucking cute. Should I play with these?” He brushed his fingers over your nipples again, and you nodded eagerly, jolting when his fingers pinched the buds meanly.

“Hyung, ‘s so wet, oh my fucking God,” Jisung’s voice was high pitched, his eyes rolling back into his head. “You’re gonna fucking die when you get inside, I can’t- can’t handle it, I-“

“I think you’ve driven him pussy drunk, kitty,” Minho mumbled in your ear, making you giggle. “Is it good for you?”

“Hnng, yeah, he feels so thick,” You were sure you had a permanent, blissed smile on your face while you let yourself get fucked up into Minho. Minho grinned back at you, kissing your hairline. Jisung was drooling into your neck now, thrusts uneven but still feeling so, so good inside of you. “Mm, I want it deeper, please, Ji.”

“D-Deeper? Yeah, yeah, I’ve got you baby,” He nodded, pushing your legs up against your chest. “Hyung, hold ‘em. Please.” The ‘please’ seemed like it was added as an afterthought, but Minho chuckled and held your legs up anyway. You felt a bit disappointed his hands weren’t on your tits anymore, but when Jisung began to thrust again, it hit your g-spot incessantly with his quick pace. You whined, throwing your head back against Minho. The jolt of ecstasy that you’d felt when Minho slapped you was something you were absolutely desperate to feel again, however.

“I- I wanna be slapped again, please, Min-“

“My hands are busy, filthy girl,” Minho hummed. “Jisung. Slap her across the face.”

“The- the face?! Hyung, oh my God-“ Jisung looked wide eyed between you and Minho, but you didn’t miss the way his hands tightened on the bed sheets next to you.

“Slap me, Sungie, please. C’mon, I know you’ve got it in you, I know you want to-“ You were cut off with Jisung’s hand raising and slapping you clean across the cheek, and then you were cumming. You gushed around Jisung’s cock, wondering why it felt so, so wet all of a sudden, and Jisung let out a deep moan.

“You are a fucking menace. Greedy, filthy, oh my God, squirted all over my cock, like what the fuck?” Jisung whined, and you lifted your head up, looking down. You had, actually, and you’d had no idea. “I’m going to cum. ‘S too wet now, hyung, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum then,” Minho sighed. “But you better be eating that cum straight out of her pussy and letting her taste.”

You whined, nodding, and then Jisung was cumming. His hips stalled as he came, one long, drawn out moan falling from his pouty lips. You felt the warmth fill you up, and you looked up at Jisung with doe eyes. He pulled out, his cock softening, and you expected Minho to let go of your legs - he held you further up, instead, baring your gushing hole to Jisung’s mouth when he shifted down to stare at it.

Then, his tongue was licking through your hole with intensity, scooping up his own cum and holding it in his mouth. He leaned over you, and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth to accept the mixed flavours of you and him. It was so fucking dirty, but you could feel your pussy getting wet all over again. Just when you thought you were meant to swallow, Minho was pulling you back by your jaw and kissing you filthily, swallowing the taste of yours and Jisung’s cum. You moaned, shifting to move onto Minho’s lap and straddle those beautiful fucking thighs.

“Need you, now,” You murmured against his lips, licking along the seam of them. Minho smirked, before he was pulling your head back by your hair.

“I think I decide what you fucking need, don’t I?” He replied, eyes dark and staring into yours. Jisung snickered from next to you, sprawled leisurely and with a now-hard cock again. What the fuck? Did his refractory period not exist, or?

“You’re in for it,” Jisung chirped, and you blinked hazily.

“Are you going to be mean to me, Min? Haven’t even seen your cock yet,” You pouted, and Minho laughed, shoulders shaking. That answered your question.

“Why don’t you take it out then? Have a look at it, kitty,” He laid back, and you nodded. You felt a little silly, fishnets ripped all over, tits out and your skirt in a strip of fabric around your waist, but you didn’t care. Minho was looking at you like you were the best meal he’d ever seen. You shifted backwards, undoing his trousers and trying to yank them down his thick thighs.

Woah. That was the first thing you thought, looking down at the massive bulge in plain black boxers with a small amount of precum leaking through. Fucking big. Thick. You wanted to make grabby hands and throw a tantrum, but you held onto the last bit of dignity you had and pulled his length out of his underwear. Fuck. His shaft was flushed, long and thick, with a perfectly shaped mushroom head leaking small pearlescent drops all the way down onto the shaft. The dark, coarse hair was perfectly trimmed above his length as if he'd planned this. How could his cock be pretty too? No wonder he walked with such an air of confidence.

“I’m g’na sit on it,” You blurted, staring at his length. Jisung chuckled, and when you turned to him, he was pumping his cock again. Seriously, what the fuck?

“You’re going to do what I fucking tell you to do, kitty. Face down, ass up. Put your head by Jisung, c’mon,” Minho commanded you. When you moved to get up, you watched him rip the rest of his trousers off and pull his vest top off, exposing the expanse of his body. He was ethereal - dusky pink nipples on built pecs, and his arms were so fucking big when paired with the rest of his slight frame.

You flipped over nonetheless, trying to calm the panting breaths flooding from your lungs. Jisung spread his legs and let you rest your head on his thigh, only a few inches from his cock. Oh. That’s why Minho wanted you like this. Jisung grinned down at you, and when you tried to get his cock in your mouth, you were alarmed by the sensation of Minho’s cock pressed against your hole.

“Ready for me, kitty? Are you ready for me to breed this slutty fucking hole? I am going to be a little mean to you, you know,” Minho said, his tone low. You nodded, nuzzling against Jisung’s thigh affectionately. He returned it with a soft scratch to your scalp, one hand still pumping his cock. You watched the muscles of his tummy clench as he did so, humming in appreciation. They were both so sexy.

“Give it to me, Min, I can take it,” You murmured, and then he was bottoming out. He was longer than Jisung, hitting your g-spot with minimum effort from the position you were in, and you whined out, legs thrashing.

“I thought you could take it,” Minho scoffed. “You’re talking big for someone with such a tiny little fucking hole, huh?”

“I can take it-“

“Occupy your mouth with something else instead,” He interrupted you, and then he pointed at Jisung. “I don’t want to hear you whining, either. Legs up.”

Jisung’s eyes went wide. “Hyung-?”

“Do you want to make your Sungie feel good, kitty? It’s not fair he has to jerk off while watching his two loves fuck, right?” Minho cooed. His hips were slapping against your ass, making you gush and moan around him. You hated the way he sounded so unaffected while you were struggling to put sentences together. “There is something he really likes.”

“Yeah, y-yeah, I wanna make him feel good-“

Minho rewarded you with a slap to your ass, before yanking your head up by your hair. “Jisung. Legs up.”

Jisung obliged, pulling his legs up and apart. From this angle, you could see his hole, fluttering around nothing. It was as if he realised what Minho was planning the same second you did. “Oh, a-are you gonna lick me there, baby?”

“Mm, I want to,” You moaned, trying to escape Minho’s firm grip on your hair. “Min, can I?”

“Good kitty for asking,” He dropped your hair, moving his hand underneath you to rub your clit in precise circles. It heightened the pleasure tenfold, and you gasped, pushing your hips back against him. “That’s it. Fuck your hips back on my cock and lick his hole, fucking slut. Our slut, yeah?”

“Your slut, both of you,” You confirmed, nodding, before your head was delving between Jisung’s legs. He squealed as soon as you licked over his hole, something you’d wanted to do since you saw him grab his phone in your room. You let your ass bounce on Minho’s cock, his hand slapping your flesh every now and again and the other massaging your clit.

You realised very soon that you were going to cum for the second time, and you broke away from Jisung’s ass to look at Minho with pleading eyes. “Please, please, Min, m’close, need it…”

“What do you need, kitty? Do you need more?” Minho asked. You nodded, laving your tongue over Jisung’s balls and making him whine. You felt his hand move from your asscheek to trace his thumb around your second hole, making you jolt, until you were closing your eyes in anticipation. Minho chuckled. “Oh. You want this?”

“I- I’ve never…”

“It’s fuckin’ amazing. Hyung, finger her ass. She’ll love it,” Jisung contributed, and when you looked at him, his hand was pumping his cock again. You let your head delve down to lick over his asshole once more, with renewed fervour this time, and you giggled when Jisung moaned loudly. You were glad the party was still going on, music drowning out any noises that could fizzle from the room.

Minho slid his thumb into your ass, and you felt your legs tremble. Being filled like this was insane, his cock still bullying into your pussy and you couldn’t help but imagine it being the both of them - Jisung in your pussy, Minho in your ass, or vice versa.

“God, we’ll have to both fuck your holes at some point,” Minho grunted. The noises from your pussy were erotic, slapping wet noises and keens coming from your mouth, too. “That ass looks so fucking tight. Would you like that?”

You nodded, whining. “I want you both to cum in both holes, fill me up- oh, oh my God, I’m gonna cum, Min!”

“Ah, really? You want one of us in each hole? That’s fucking dirty, kitty,” Minho’s hand slapped your clit, one, two, three times, making you gasp and lean upwards to suck on Jisung’s cock. It made him jolt, and he pushed it into your mouth, groaning with a tight grip on your hair. “C’mon, then. I think you deserve to cum. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock like this, huh?”

You let yourself pop off of Jisung’s length, drooling on the tip. “T-Thank you! Thank you, Min, I’m gonna cum so hard, for you, for you both-” The orgasm exploded in a more full-body sensation than your last one, but you could feel your wetness leaking all down Minho’s shaft. It still pistoned in and out of you, lengthening your orgasm and making you squeal in delight. It felt like you’d been coming for about ten minutes straight, until Minho was leaning over you, pressing his chest to your back. Jisung was pushing your hair out of your face and still pumping his cock steadily, staring into your eyes.

“I’m gonna breed this fucking hole. Such a slut, letting me go raw,” Minho mumbled, almost to himself, hips making you shift up the bed. You took Jisung’s cockhead into your mouth again, sucking hard, and then he was jolting. “Cum in her mouth, Sungie. I’m going to fill up this fucking pussy, so perfect for me, molded to my fucking cock…”

You moaned when you realised you’d be taking two loads that night - probably even more from them both when the party was over - and then Minho was bottoming out, filling you up. It dripped out around his cock with the sheer amount of it, and when you caught sight of him over your shoulder, his ears were flushed a crimson red and his lips were parted, letting out a deep sigh. He looked gorgeous.

Unshockingly, Minho wasn’t at all talkative after he came, and he collapsed on you with an ‘oomph’, cock still inside you. He watched you jerk Jisung’s cock, and chuckled when Jisung whined and his toes curled.

“Need’a cum again,” Jisung moaned, his chest dewy with sweat. “Fuckin’ need it, hyung, baby, shit, please help me, I need more-“

In another brief moment of confidence, you kept pumping Jisung’s cock and sucked one finger into your mouth, slipping it into his hole beneath heavy balls. It only took one, two thrusts of your finger before he was gasping, and cum spurted out like a fountain over your fist. After you kept pumping steadily, he pushed your hands away with a whine from the overstimulation.

“That was…” Jisung spoke, chest heaving. “Jesus. So good.”

“I loved it,” You cooed, running your hand through Minho’s hair where his head leaned on your shoulder. “Minho, your mouth is fucking dirty, you know that?”

“I wish I could talk like that in bed. I get too shy, I just blabber,” Jisung admitted, and when you looked at Minho, his cheeks were burning the same shade as his ears. His eyes were flickering between you, and then he bit your shoulder softly, playfully.

“You’ll both learn!” He chirped, pulling out of you and walking over to get some towels from the shared wardrobe.

“C’mere. Cuddle time,” Jisung chirped, and you giggled, sidling up to his side with your head on his chest. He still had cum on the bottom of his tummy, and you still had cum dripping out of your pussy onto the bed, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even care you were still in most of your clothes. Minho did, however, and he groaned in exasperation with a white towel in hand when he turned around and saw you two.

Minho crept onto the bed, wiping your folds and then Jisung’s tummy. You both giggled when he kissed both your foreheads before tossing the towel onto the floor, cuddling in behind you. You were in the middle again - just the way you liked it. Minho ripped your fishnets the rest of the way off and somehow managed to get the skirt detangled, leaving you in just your top, now rolled down. You shifted onto your back, letting them both cuddle into your chest.

“I get too shy too. I just beg, apparently,” You murmured. “I wish I was better at talking. Inside the bedroom and outside.”

“Do you ever wish… that someone could fix you? Like, fix what’s wrong with you?” Jisung asked, eyes staring at the ceiling. “I always wished someone could fix the way I am. How awkward and shy I can get, and stuff.”

“I don’t want someone who’s going to fix me,” You said, head falling onto Minho’s shoulder. Jisung stared at you attentively, eyes wide. “I just want someone who’s going to hold my hand while I try to fix myself.”

Jisung looked at Minho. It was like two seconds of unspoken conversation, then he spoke up. “How about two people?”

Right, that’s what you’d wanted to ask.

“Guys, I wanted to ask… are we… dating, like all three of us?” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers.

“I thought we were, yeah,” Jisung responded quickly, kissing your cheek. Minho scoffed.

“I want to ask you both properly. God knows neither of you are going to ask me,” Minho pulled you both into him, and you turned over and sidled up to him obediently. His chest was still flushed, a blotchy rash on his skin from the intense bedroom activities.

Jisung, however, tries to push him away, resuming his position behind you. “Hey! I totally would have asked.”

“No you wouldn’t, and that’s okay,” He kisses Jisung’s forehead, and then yours. “I like both of my shy babies.”

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financeprincess · 2 months

Text

I spent, at a minimum, at least $500-$1,000 a month exclusively on my self improvement. Here is most of what I spend on, in no particular order:

Education (classes, books, courses, certifications, college tuition, seminars, etc.)

Private lessons for languages, musical instruments, sports, etc.

Personal hobbies and passion projects

Crest whitening strips (great when in a pinch), Invisalign, professional whitening, preventative dental care, prescription whitening products from my dentist

Investments such as index funds, REITs, ETFs, CDs, individual stocks, commodities, appreciative luxury items, precious metals & gems, etc.

Organic food, vitamins, supplements, high quality healthcare, therapy, massages, prescriptions (Rx skincare, etc.)

New glasses & contacts (getting some bayonetta glasses from Burberry soon, very excited)

Sports, gym membership + sauna, hot yoga, Pilates, kickboxing, tennis, skiing, dance, etc.

Personal care such as bath/shower products, body care, haircare, skincare, makeup, brightening eye drops, perfume, etc.

Travel, events, concerts, festivals, etc.

Shopping (clothes, accessories, home goods, etc.)

Eating out at restaurants and going to coffee shops

Beauty treatments such as manicures, pedicures, waxes, brow tint & threading, salon blowouts, hair cuts & colors, facials, lash lift & tints, vitamin IVs, etc.

Regular visits to my dermatologist, dentist, psychiatrist, eye doctor, primary care physician, gynecologist, and any other specialists

Semi-regular appointments with a personal trainer, holistic nutritionist, and dietitian

I don't do all of these every single month, but most of these are recurring throughout the year and budgeted accordingly. Eventually I might add in more intense cosmetic work like medspa services, Botox, etc. If you can find a workplace with a great benefits package such as high quality healthcare, an HSA/FSA, health & wellness reimbursements for the gym, disability & life insurance, etc. I would highly recommend it and max out all the benefits you can.

#and men really want to access women for free or at a discount..............#as if #get real fellas

1K notes · View notes

grugruel · 4 months

Text

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic

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rinhaler · 5 months

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so my ex just used me to get better and then dated someone else once he was okay, so i’m requesting a toji fucking megumi’s ex gf to teach his son a lesson, or megumi’s gf ends up taking “Break my heart? i’ll be your step mom.” too seriously 🫶

fuck ur ex fuck him i hate him idek know him but i hate him!!!! enjoy the filth <3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, implied cheating, vaginal sex, revenge sex, clit rubbing, pet names, praise, slight cucking, creampie.

words: .8k

“Oh. God, T-Toji—!” you cry out as his cock buries deeper and deeper inside of you.

The prominent veins stimulate your walls with every thrust while his cockhead pummels against your g-spot with perfect precision. He doesn’t miss a beat, either, he possesses an endless supply of stamina and he’s using it to his advantage.

He silences you with a nasty, drool infused kiss as your tongues tangle effortlessly. It’s hard to feel guilty about letting your ex’s dad rail you when it feels this good. It was a messy breakup, and yet, you didn’t feel the need to cut off Toji. You broke up with Megumi, after all. Not his dad.

Though you didn’t expect to be lifted onto his chest of drawers when you came over and fucked within an inch of your life. You decided to come over and collect the last of your things and ended up staying a little longer than planned when Toji offered you a glass of wine. In hindsight, you’ve realised that he offered and spilled it on you just to get you upstairs.

“Kid’s a fuckin’ idiot,” he snarls, resting his forehead against yours. “Perfect little pussy, baby, so fucking perfect.”

You watch him as he pulls his head away from yours and licks his thumb, lowering it to rub your puffy clit without slowing his thrusts. Your head falls back against the wall behind you, feeling lighter than air and losing all sense of control as he fucks into you slow and deep.

He smiles at you as you place your hands on his shoulders, moving his lips to softly kiss each of them.

“Knew he’d fuck things up eventually,” he announces, confidently, “The minute I saw ya, I knew Megumi wasn’t gonna be able to handle you, darlin’.”

“Fuck, Toji, h-have you been waiting for this?” you ask him, already knowing the answer by the way he smirks.

“You think too much.” he tells you, leaning forwards to make out with you again. He’s right, of course, but the harder he ploughs into you the muddier your thoughts become. All you can think about is him. There’s inklings of regret as Megumi flashes through your mind. He sees it behind your eyes, he must do. Because soon after he grabs your face in one large hand until your cheeks pucker. “Stop thinkin’ about the piece of shit, he’s not thinking about you.”

“Oh my God…” you huff, knowing he’s right. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer again, moaning into his mouth as your walls begin to tighten. “Make me— wanna cum—” you tell him, earning another passion induced kiss and faster thrusts.

“Yeah? Wanna cum, baby?” he asks, and you nod in turn. “Can I cum in this pretty cunt?”

“P-Please, yes please!”

The moaning from both of you is raucous as he chases his own high and forces you into yours. You cream around him beautifully. He still can’t believe what an idiot Megumi was to let you go. But he won’t complain, not when he’s emptying his balls into your gorgeous little pussy.

You pant and move the hair out of his face being stuck down by his sweaty forehead. He laughs, softly, and you can’t help but join him when the reality sinks in. Though he helps you down and picks up your underwear from the floor. He grabs his shirt while you slip into them, feeling particularly vile when you feel his warm seed seep into the gusset of your panties.

He watches you as you pick up your jacket and your phone.

“You’re on your phone already?” he laughs. “Don’t tell me I was just a cheap fuck.” he teases you, and you smile.

“No, sorry.” you smile back as you let the intrusive thoughts whirring through your mind win. You were going to delete his number, though you’re glad you didn’t as you hit dial on Megumi’s number. You’re pleased Toji doesn’t hear the faint ringing sound, and you’re even happier when you see the time going up on your screen, seeing that Megumi actually answered.

“hello?” you hear him say a few times, muffling the sound as you put it in your jacket pocket.

“I can’t believe we had sex, Toji.” you speak, doing all you can to not smirk as you’re sure Megumi’s heart just dropped. “You won’t tell Megumi, will you? I’m so mad at him… I hate him… but I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not telling him.” Toji nods, agreeing. “Can’t lie though, I wouldn’t mind fucking you again.” he chuckles.

“Then…” you approach him again, kissing him. “Fuck me again, Toji. Wan’ your cock again. Want you t’cum in me again. Need you… s’bad.” you moan quietly as his hands begin exploring your body. He lifts you up and throws you down onto the bed, pulling his jeans down again.

“Fuck me, princess, thought you’d never ask.”

You begin kissing again, unsure how much of that Megumi heard. But you make sure to keep your volume sufficiently high as you make out with his dad.

It’s the least he deserves for cheating.

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hysteria-things · 2 months

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OKAY A KINKY FIC BASED ON THIS MATT TIKTOK PLZ I BEG https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8vL9762/

🔗

BRAT

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been acting like a brat all day. matt wasn’t fond of the attitude and wants to put you in your place.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, BDSM (duct taped mouth/hands), vibrator, masturbation (male), dacryphilia, faux-sympathy, edging

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 642

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this one is kinky be warned…

matt’s confused.

he knows your cycle, so he knows you’re not on your period at the moment. however, you’ve been acting like a brat all day.

for example, like when you guys were at the store earlier this morning. he picked something off of a shelf and commented about getting it, but you gave him an attitude about how useless it was.

or the eye roll you gave him at lunch. it seemed like you didn’t like your boyfriend’s presence, and that was his last nerve.

he pulled you into his bedroom and shut the door. you stand there with your arms crossed, your face unamused. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“what do you mean?” you reply coldly.

he huffs. “cut the crap, y/n. what’s with the attitude today?”

“i don’t have an attitude,” you say in, what do you know, an attitude. matt’s getting impatient and pushes you down on the bed, causing your skirt to lift slightly. he pauses and stares, before pulling the skirt up to see that he wasn’t imagining things.

you have no underwear on, and you’re wet as ever beneath him. he arches a brow. “seriously?”

your cheeks turn red, but then you yelp as he strips you naked in seconds. “do you want to get fucked? is that it?”

you bite your lip and nod frantically. he tuts, taking a piece of hair and putting it behind your ear. “oh, baby…” he coos, reaching into his bedside table and taking out a roll of duct tape and one of your vibrators.

he unrolls the duct tape, ripping it off with his teeth before pulling your hands together and taping them. “too bad that won’t happen.” he fake pouts, this time tearing off a piece and putting it on your mouth. your eyes widen.

he hums a tune as he turns the vibrator on high, placing it into your wet pussy. your eyes immediately cross when he sighs.

“brats like you don’t deserve to get fucked.” he unbuckles his jeans and yanks them down, shoving his hand into his boxers and jerking his cock. “they deserve to be punished instead.”

you whine against the duct tape, squirming as the vibrations flow to just the right spots. you pull at the restraints as hard as you can, but of course, it’s no use.

matt moans and whimpers as he masturbates to your current state, moving closer to you to see your eyes becoming teary. “you want to cum?” you nod with plea, his other hand reaching down to the vibrator and turning it off.

you start to groan but then scream when he turns the toy back on max, repeating this action numerous times to edge you.

finally, he stops and keeps it on, tears starting to escape your eyelids. “fuck—“ he breathes when he feels his dick twitch and leak pre-cum. he leans over you and kisses the tears away. “this is what brats get.”

you sob from pleasure, your legs shaking as you feel your orgasm building for what feels like the hundredth time. “have you learned your lesson?”

you nod in plea, matt taking his dick out of his underwear so you can see what he’s been doing to himself. his tip is red and swollen, his hand still stroking himself at what he’s doing to you.

he starts moving the vibrator in and out of you, your back arching and toes curling with pleasure. you clench around the toy, thinking about how you get to release after so much teasing.

you feel matt’s cum leak onto your stomach, but he pulls the vibe out of you when you’re about to hit your peak. he carefully takes the duct tape off of your mouth and hands. you’re panting, still unsatisfied. “next time, if you want to get fucked so bad, just ask.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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bisayawa · 6 months

Text

freckles & blades & helping hands

✎___ husband!diluc × spouse!reader

✎___ a/n: domestic fluff (literally just a soft scene of diluc shaving his scruff), i aged diluc up a bit i think. use of the pet name honey. somewhat inspired by @/mmmairon's art of beefy, gentle, kind diluc :> 730~ words, not proofread; art by ary scheffer.

"do you need any help?"

legs swinging on the counter top, you lean in & stare, eyes glazing over the handsome lines of your husband's face on the mirror. he has a few crow's feet near his temples. whenever you point it out, he'll always say the wrinkles are evidence of you, you who make him smile & laugh & chuckle until his stomach hurts. it's evidence of a life laughter, he'd say.

the sharp stipple of the razor cuts through the silence.

"no, honey," he says, turning his head & angling the blade to the scruff on his jaw. "it's alright."

the words are spoken softly. it was jarring a few years ago, hearing words of buttercream & sweetness come from a man such as diluc, hulking, dignified, broad-shouldered, almost always with a dour expression on his face.

there was a handsomeness to the gloom before. the sharpness of brows, the bite of his frowns, the particular wrinkle when he scrunches his nose... but you have to admit, the allure is multiplied tenfold when he's all honeyed & dewy-eyed, softer than a cloud.

"i could do it for you, you know?"

his eyes never leave the mirror.

"i still don't understand this... fixation you have," he angles his face in an almost-quarter turn. "i'm just shaving, hon. it's no event you have to witness."

"of course, it is." you lean a little closer. "it's like an unveiling. my husband is showing his true face, one without scruff or stubble."

"an unveiling― ?" his shoulders shake & he puts down the razor for a few moments, small bouts of giggles floating through the room.

he rights himself.

"behave. i'm never gonna finished in time." his stern voice is all for show. he's smiling as he says the words.

a beat passes.

"but isn't it though? they'll finally see all your face. happy wrinkles & all."

he's struggling to fix his lip into a line, unable to stop it from curling into a smile. he's repeating your last few words, mouthing them out as he brings down the razor.

the silence after then is sweet, filled with curious looks towards his face filled with foam & other little chuckles.

"so..." your voice cuts through.

"so...?"

"could i do it for you?"

he taps the razor on the marble sink, shucking hair & foam off the blade.

"you don't know how..." another swipe of the razor.

"you could teach me." tap tap.

"i've..." swipe. "already started." tap

"just the basics." swipe. "an impromptu lesson, yeah? against the grain & all that?"

"it's with the grain, honey."

"right, yeah... i knew that... so are you gonna teach me?"

"hm..."

"oh? usually it's a big, disapproving hrrrnn..."

"you've catalogued my grousing?"

"yup yup, because i am a good spouse who tends to the needs of my husband."

he laughs at that, quietly. another wrinkle on his temple.

"alright, alright... here..."

he gives the razor, grasping it in your hand. he's gentle, careful, righting your hold of the blade.

"okay... here's how it should be..." he guides your hand towards his cheek, speaking in soft murmurs. "just like how my father taught me. listen."

he pulls down, a swipe against his face. hair & foam give way for his pale skin.

"there. let the blade do the work, honey. don't push too harshly."

he makes another swipe, his hand still guiding yours.

"here, just like this." swipe swipe swipe. "you wanna try?"

your small palm finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. brows furrow in concentration as the razor anticipates the next swipe.

"careful, honey, okay?" the warmth of his hand leaves. "i trust you."

shaking fingers steel themselves. the blade goes still before landing on the softness of his skin. it coasts across his jaw, cold metal kissing warm flesh. the line is carved against the shaving foam, no longer obscuring his face.

the swipe is finished. the trust was not betrayed. the result of your work is there upon the blade, as patches of coarse hair & crisp shaving foam.

"how was that?" you murmur.

"wonderful." he's staring into your eyes, not at the razor like you expected. "would you like to keep going?"

"yes, please." you poke at his newly shaven jaw. "i've never noticed your little freckle here."

"i have a few." he pinches your nose. "let's keep going. maybe we can find a few more."

#my fic.#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact drabble #diluc ragnvindr

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kafkasmuses · 5 days

Text

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons.

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader)

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago.

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you.

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time.

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.”

ahem.

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression.

you blink at him, once, twice.

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.”

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him.

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better.

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint.

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement.

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach.

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything.

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up.

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.”

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it.

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first.

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?”

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.”

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing.

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.”

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back.

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.”

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?”

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him.

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?”

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right?

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.”

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you.

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind.

“whatever helps,” you remark.

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.”

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable.

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?”

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.”

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.”

“with tennis?”

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.”

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you.

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds.

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really.

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet.

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors.

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before.

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually.

“like your wife?”

“like you.”

art corrected you.

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well.

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe.

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose.

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty?

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy.

“what?” you frown, confused.

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing.

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple.

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?”

“what do you mean?”

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours.

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..”

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.”

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now.

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?”

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you.

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying.

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.”

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin.

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.”

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to.

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath.

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness.

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?”

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part.

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.”

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks.

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him.

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance.

“ready?” he hushes out.

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already.

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more.

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well.

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas.

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches.

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm.

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.”

#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson challengers #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist smut #mike faist challengers

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