#please give feedback i am in desperate need of it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lisired · 3 months

Text

smile for the camera

pairing: haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

genre/warnings: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), f I missed smth lmk

summary: upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

wored count: 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

author’s note: this is a repost of an oldie but goldie, i think. i hope. feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

The tape starts off quick, you already sitting on your knees between your boyfriend’s legs as you took him in your mouth. Haechan pointed the camera in a way that gives Jisung a near-perfect image of what it would be like to have you sucking him off, with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock and your eyes so round as you gazed up at him innocently. If you looked at him like that, Jisung would probably cum on the spot.

“Gonna show the camera what a whore you are for me?” Haechan said, out of Jisung’s vision for the most part and he prefers it that way. He’d feel too guilty looking at his friend’s face, and of course he’ll feel even more guilty looking at yours, but he’ll suppress those feelings until he inevitably sees you in person.

Then-you nodded a little in response, looking so desperate and eager to please. If only you knew Jisung would be watching this, would you have still agreed to filming yourself so explicitly? He doubts that you would’ve, it isn’t like your relationship has ever been anything other than platonic. He’s nothing more than the best friend of the man you’re dating, of course you only see him as a friend, too. Nothing more.

“Then get to work, baby.”

It took nothing more for you to comply, sucking your boyfriend’s dick in your mouth while your tongue swirled alive. Your hand wrapped around him too, grip not too heavy, yet not too loose either. It’s no surprise to Jisung, but you look amazing with a cock stuffed between your lips and he imagines it’s him instead. You’d probably feel just as good as you look. Honestly, Jisung’s never had anything other than his own hands around his dick, and you look so skilled that he knows you’d be promising.

Even if he couldn’t see, he can hear. Haechan’s a moaner - quite a loud one - and he’s making it obvious you’re doing a great job with how utterly verbal he is. All the moans and praises spilling from between his lips had you soaking and motivated you to work harder.

By the time Jisung thinks to check the timestamp, he’s already more than thirty seconds in. This sends him into mini-panic, but he slowly decides it wouldn’t hurt to watch a little more. So he does, in too deep to stop.

02:05, you looked up at Haechan with a gaze that gets Jisung hard. 06:48, you were gagging because Haechan had gotten a little rough on you, tugging at your hair and using his hands to control you, facefucking you. 07:12, 10:22, 12:57, by the time Jisung’s thirteen minutes in, Haechan’s patience had dissipated and he’d thrown you onto the bed, claiming he wanted to cum in you—not your mouth. Then Jisung has this thought of what it would be like to cum inside you, and wonders if one day you’d ever let him. He knows that you wouldn’t, but it’s still a fun fantasy.

Jisung finds himself enjoying this new angle better. Your whole body is on display, thanks to Haechan taking off your undergarments as well as the remaining portions of his own clothes. He had you on all fours, waiting impatiently for him as he teased your slit from behind you, gliding his cock over it while being careful not to slide in. The moment you whined, Jisung pulls his own dick out, not entirely, but enough to where his fingers can touch him in place of yours.

“So needy,” Haechan cooed, brushing his cock against your wetness, “you’re so wet. All for me, right? Tell me who got you this wet.”

“You,” you muttered.

Haechan drew back, sounding a desperate whimper from you, “Speak up, baby. Can’t hear you.”

“You!” you said it louder, adding something extra you knew your boyfriend would like enough to quit his teasing and finally slide in, “you, Hyuck, only you. Want you s-so bad.”

Just like that, Haechan gave back in, finally slipping himself in and stretching you far and wide. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, gripping your waist and rocking against your hips.

At the same time, Jisung strokes himself, watching the way you let your boyfriend toy with you, how needily you take everything he gives you. He thinks you look beautiful, your back in a pretty arch, your thighs and breast shaking as your body lurches forward at the impact of Haechan’s thrusts, your face—god, do you look gorgeous when you moan. Maybe there is a privilege in being a viewer. Haechan couldn’t, though Jisung can see your face perfectly.

“Harder,” you begged, your voice practically muffled as you whimpered into the pillows and mattress, yet he still heard you, “harder, Hyuck, please, please, please?”

“Baby want’s it harder?” He chuckled. “You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll give you everything my sweet girl wants.”

Watching Haechan touch you in all the places Jisung oh so desperately wishes he was, he feels like he’s going insane. You’re so incredibly fucked out, so out of it that the pleasure has practically locked you inside of a trance. Knowing you’re a sucker for contact, your boyfriend toyed with your body a little more, rubbing your clit to heighten the feeling, slowly yet steadily climbing his hands up your skin until they’re brushing your chest. Jisung moans when you do, unable to shake his urge to be inside you. Just one time, he begs to no one in particular, one time, and he’ll be able to happily move on with his life.

It feels like with every moment that passes, he’s closer to the edge. He’s blocked out everything else in the world, hyper-focused on your body and face. Your mouth agape, the pretty sounds that tumbled loose every time your boyfriend hit the spot, how caught up in the pleasure you were. If you gave him a chance, he thinks he could make you feel good, too. Sure, all the experience he has is with the palm of his hand, and he’s no where near as experienced as your boyfriend, but with a little guidance, he thinks he’d make you crack.

Though right now, he’s about to crack.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jisung’s been here plenty enough times before to know that’s he’s almost there—not necessarily watching you like this, but on those occasions when you stay over and go at it with Haechan during the dead nights where you think no one is awake, where he’s secretly hearing you and shutting his eyes, imagining a twisted fantasy of you and him. He even sometimes does it when you’re not there, getting off to the memory of your pretty lips or gentle fingers, both around his cock. Up until now, it worried him that the thought of fucking your mouth kept crawling stealthily back inside his brain. You’re so gorgeous, so cute and loving. Though upon seeing you beg for Haechan to be rougher with you, witnessing secondhand how you took your boyfriend’s length despite him forcing it down your throat, he thinks you can handle it.

Fuuuuucck. Jisung bites at his bottom lip as he cums, shutting his eyes as the pressure breaks through his body. It’s so intense, taking everything in him not to make noise as his cum shoots into his pants.

When he’s done, it takes him a couple seconds to blink back in. Then the realization of what he’s done hits, following with the guilt and shame of his actions. He always feels bad after he cums to you, but this was different. This time, he had done something inexcusable, and he can’t help but wonder about how you’d feel if you found out. Would you think he’s a creep? Could you ever look at him the same again? Jisung doesn’t think he can live with that, so he quickly exits the tab and discards all evidence of his activity, shutting the laptop and buttoning back up his pants. He’ll definitely need to wash those himself.

Swiftly, he swoops the laptop up, and walks into the hall to put it back. The video he was originally looking for is long-forgotten, and he spent over half an hour watching you and Haechan. Jisung’s a terrible liar. If Haechan comes back before he can put his laptop back, he’s toast.

“Why do you have Haechan’s MacBook?”

Jisung freezes. Fuck, he forget about Renjun.

“I don’t,” he winces, realizing that’s a boldfaced lie. He has puppy stickers on his MacBook. Unmistakable puppy stickers, all your doing. “Okay, so maybe I do—”

Renjun glares.

“Fine, I totally do! But I wasn’t doing anything, I was just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach!” Jisung defends himself like he’s being accused of murder, “You know Haechan keeps everything on his laptop!”

Renjun nods his head. Valid. He’s still skeptical, but he doesn’t care enough to further interrogate the younger, so he just shrugs and walks into the living room. Jisung sighs in relief. He’s gotten away with it for now. Now he just needs to put the laptop back in Haechan’s room and pretend that what happened never actually happened.

Jisung’s been acting weird lately.

No scooting next to you on the couch and lying his head in your lap. No asking you how your day has been. No shyly waving at you whenever you first walk through the dorm door. No awkward hello’s (hell, he’s hardly even speaking to you.)

Even when you try and speak to him, his answers are plain and simple.

How’s your day? Fine.

Did you guys have a good practice? It was nice.

Have you been thinking about trying any new hair colors? Not really.

You don’t think he’s even looking at you. And Jisung’s really not that shy as you originally thought him out to be, after he got to know you a little, he was holding eye contact with you during conversations just fine. He’s a confident speaker even. But you try not to overthink things and try to get used to the emptiness without his normal self, chalking it up to him having a bad week or something. It’s normal, everyone has those.

Mission unsuccessful. You are the queen of overthinking. In fact, you are literally the walking definition of overthinking. If someone Googled the meaning of overthink, your name would probably pop up next to it.

So you turn to your all-time favorite therapist, AKA your boyfriend.

“Is it just me, or has Jisung been acting different lately?”

You’re at the dorms, in the middle of folding laundry. Haechan stands near you, doing absolutely nothing. Normally the guys would absolutely never let you do their laundry, and it’s Haechan’s turn this week, but you offered and somewhat aggressively insisted on folding, so he let you. He knows that you willingly do chores when there’s something on your mind and you’re trying to get it off but you can’t, so he was aware there was only a matter of time before you asked him some ridiculous question.

Your boyfriend blinks, not expecting the question, but if he’s caught off-guard then he conceals it quickly. “Just you, babe.”

You frown, “Think about it. He’s been acting so weird.”

“Jisung’s always weird,” Haechan laughs, “I haven’t noticed anything. He seems the same to me. Why are you so worried about him anyways?”

“Because he’s being weird, Haechan, I’m telling you. He doesn’t wave at or greet me anymore, doesn’t sit next to me during movies, and he won’t even talk to me anymore! I asked him if there was any hair colors he wanted to try and he said not really. He always has a list of hell no’s and shit that’s on his bucket list. This isn’t normal, Hyuck,” you ramble, halting in the middle of folding some Adidas sweatshirt.

Haechan pauses, rewinding a little and realizing that you may have a point. A small point, but a point nonetheless. “Well now that you mentioned it, I don’t remember having to hyper watch him during movie nights.”

“Exactly, because he doesn’t lay in my lap!”

“Thank God, maybe he’s finally learning boundaries,” Haechan says, relieved if that’s the case. Jisung’s never been particularly touchy with you, but he does use you like a human pillow during movie nights. Not that you mine, but your slightly possessive boyfriend does. “I was gonna kill him if he kept that shit up any longer.”

“Babe,” you whine, “seriously.”

“Oh, I am being serious. But I’ll ask the guys if they’ve noticed anything,” and as if perfectly on-cue, Renjun walks into the living room, “Yo Renjun, you think Jisung’s been acting weird lately?”

Renjun shrugs. “Nope, why?”

“Cause y/n thinks he is, and she’s like super worried. Been tryna tell her it’s probably nothing, but you know how she is—”

“Hey!”

Renjun pauses for a couple seconds, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to think. And then it dawns on him. “Wait, the other day I did see him leave his room with your MacBook.”

Haechan furrows his eyebrows. “My MacBook?”

“Yeah, it had puppy stickers on the cover. I asked him why he had it, and he did a whole defensive rant talking about how he was simply, and I quote, ‘just trying to find that video of Jeno and Haechan from the beach’. I hope he never gets interrogated for something serious,” Renjun says coolly.

MacBook. Video. Haechan’s MacBook. Video. Oh god, this cannot be what you think it is. Yet as you gaze at your boyfriend, you can tell he’s thinking the exact same thing as you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans. “When was this?”

“Like four days ago, why?” Renjun questions, utterly confused.

The time lines up, that’s when he started acting distant with you. He definitely saw something he wasn’t supposed to.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, tugging your boyfriend’s hair.

The ultimate stress reliever, head from your boyfriend. You’re not even exaggerating, the man eats pussy like his life depends on every lap. In this case particularly however, you’re ninety-nine percent sure he’s more so trying to shut you up by distracting you with something that’ll make you whimper in pleasure instead of distress, and you refuse to go down without a challenge. It is, needless to say, a challenge, especially with how the way that he makes you see stars clouds your mind, but you won’t succumb yet.

“Feel good?” Haechan parts for a split second to speak, then dips right back in unhesitatingly. He really doesn’t have to ask, but you know he only is because he wants to hear it from you, as though your moans aren’t telling enough.

“Yes, f-fuck,” you moan, unable to numb yourself to the pleasure. You wouldn’t even if you could, though it would be useful for you to convey your thoughts right now—the ones that keep slipping away the more he works between your thighs, yet you’re clutching onto them desperately. “But babe, gosh, what about Jisung—”

Haechan draws back, resulting in a whine to sound from you. “Baby, tell me you’re not talking about another man while I’m eating you out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” you bemoan, “I mean, I could, but I don’t want to. I’m worried about him, you know, like what if he’s traumatized. And what if he never looks at me the same again, he’s never gonna—oh.”

Haechan cuts you off mid-rant by stuffing his fingers inside you, catching you a little off-guard since you hadn’t suspected his actions, or even take notice of how he moved from between your thighs, positioning himself behind you with your back to his chest. “Do you want him to forget?”

His question seems to catch you off-guard a little more. “Huh?”

“Do you want Jisung to forget what he saw?” He repeats. “He saw you naked, baby. He saw you sucking me off, maybe even you getting fucked into this mattress if he’s that nosy. Do you want him to forget that he saw you like that, or do you want him to remember? To get curious?”

If you’re bring frank, the thought has crossed your mind at one point. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself (because you already have a man, how dare you want another?) but a part of you craves Jisung. You think it has for a while, you’re just now coming to terms with it. That doesn’t mean that you don’t want Haechan—you do want him, you love him and you’ll never stop—though you can’t help but want Jisung a little, too.

“I… I don’t know,” you lie, afraid of choosing the wrong answer. How would Haechan take that you want to fuck another guy? And how could you unabashedly admit that to him?

“Stop being complicated, I know that you know,” he pulls away his fingers, as though to punish you for lying, “do you wanna fuck him or not, y/n?”

As expected, you whine once more for the umpteenth time this hour. You’re thinking about answering honestly if it means that he’ll stop denying you pleasure. “Why are you asking me this when you said you’d kill him if he kept lying on my lap!”

“I know what I said, and it has nothing to do with my question. Now if you wanna cum, tell me the truth,” your boyfriend whispers, silk voice giving you goosebumps, “if it helps, I know Jisung and I’m like a hundred-percent sure that he is absolutely anything but traumatized. The horny bastard probably got off to it if anything, and now he’s all embarrassed and worried about you finding out. That’s why he’s avoiding you.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “And not you?”

“I’m assuming it’s because you’re the one he wants to fuck,” Haechan shrugs, “since he’s usually all over you instead of me.”

Well fuck. You hate this. You hate it because if Jisung wants you just as bad as you want him, then something could really happen, and worst of all, Haechan’s okay with that. That’s probably all the reasons you need to love this, but you can’t shake the feeling that something about this is wrong, even if you want it. It’s the same feeling that’s prevented you from accepting how you feel, all of the shame and the guilt inside you. But fuck, are you willing to ignore it. Your moral compass is malfunctioning. You’re malfunctioning, probably. There’s no reason you’re turned on thinking about all the ways you could have both of them, and you can’t say the fantasies aren’t fun. You can’t say that you don’t want to take a chance at living them out. And even though technically, you can, that would most definitely be lying. You’re a woman of truth, and nothing but.

So you decide to tell him the truth.

“I… want him to remember,” you admit, your voice low but audible.

“Course you do,” Haechan crams a pair of his fingers back inside you, prompting a fairly loud gasp from between your lips in response, “you’re such a cock-hungry fucking slut, you’ll never be satisfied with just one, hm?”

“N-no, not a—fuck—slut,” even though you deny it, Haechan feels the way you clench around his fingers when he degrades you. He even felt the way you clenched around them when he described all the ways Jisung’s potentially seen you, and from that moment forward, he knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes, you are, baby,” he disagrees, observing how you moan for him so needily. He thinks about how Jisung felt the moment he saw you like this in that video, so gone and pathetic. Then he remembers Jisung’s horniness is through the roof, and he was definitely turned on. “Such a slut. My greedy slut. Tell me you’re my slut.”

“I-I’m your slut, Hyuck,” you whisper, too caught up in bliss to speak an octave louder without forcing yourself.

Haechan slaps your thigh, and you moan consequently, “Louder.”

“I’m your slut!” you cry, louder than intended, yet your volume pleases him.

Satisfied, he smirks a little to himself. “Good girl. You wanna cum?”

“God, yes,” you’re nodding your head almost violently, “please?”

“Go ahead, baby. Let go for me.”

You’re in a daze-like state, feeling almost lightheaded as you clutch your boyfriend’s thighs for leverage. It’s either extremely early in the morning or extremely late at night and you’re at the dorms again, so you dig your teeth into your lips to try and conceal your moans as you cum, almost too out of it to even do that. Though as many times as you’ve been in this situation, biting back moans until your lips are bleeding, you like to think that you’ve perfected the silent skill.

The moment you come down from your high you lie your head against your boyfriend’s chest, and he whispers into your ear all these sweet praises, telling you how good you are for him. Everything is typical, with him holding you tight and close.

“Now, I want you to hear something,” Haechan says, throwing you off a little.

“Hear what?” You ask, nothing but confused.

“Shh,” he whispers, “listen carefully.”

Allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, your lips press together in absolute silence, and you’re even holding in your breath so that it won’t distract you too much. It takes a couple of seconds, but your ears begin to pick up on the faint sounds of groans coming from the wall that separates Haechan and Jisung’s rooms, which could only mean one thing.

He’s jerking off… to you?

Fuck, why does that turn you on? You wish that you were right there next to him, so that you could perfectly hear how deep his voice is when he grunts like that. Better yet, you wish that you were touching him yourself, so that you could see how his face looks when you make him cum. It isn’t fair. He’s seen you naked, while you’re left with not much more than your imagination.

“Haechan…” you whisper speechlessly.

“I know,” he whispers back. “He’s been doing this every night we fuck when you stay over. I know you’re always too fucked out to hear anything, though.”

Oh, god. The walls are severely thin here, you can only imagine all the noises he’s heard you make over the nights. All the times he’s came, and no wonder you hear him insisting on washing his own laundry. The guys already tease him, saying that it’s because he’s always jacking off, but you’re the sole one that never would’ve thought he was truly this horny—that he’d jack off to you.

“What do we do?” You ask, although your head isn’t exactly blank. It’s just that everything you’re thinking, you’re not sure your boyfriend would approve of.

“Confront him,” Haechan replies, like the answers obvious, and the moment you stare back at him in shock and appalled, he adds, “I’m not mad at you or against it, baby. If you wanna fuck him, then you can once on the condition that I have to be there. I’m sure that horny fuck wouldn’t care.”

You don’t believe your ears. “Really?”

“Yes,” he begins to yawn a little, “but tomorrow. For now let’s go to bed.”

The two of you lie down, and you go to sleep imagining all the possibilities of what could happen within the next twenty-four hours, snuggled up in your boyfriend’s arms.

The following day, you and Haechan plan out the confrontation quietly in his bedroom. Since the walls are thinner than you thought, most of your conversation is in hushed whispers and low tone.

Just thinking about it has you excited. If everything goes according to plan—essentially meaning if Jisung doesn’t shy off despite your boyfriend’s insistence on watching instead of participating—then you’ll have him wrapped around your finger, right where you want him. You just hope that he won’t freak out too much.

“You got it?” Haechan whispers once he finishes explaining the rundown of the plan.

It’s nothing like some elaborate scheme, or intricately-detailed ploy. There isn’t much to it but patience and faith in the slight steps to play out in your favor, although the ratio of your amount of the two things is dramatic.

“Yeah,” you reply a little too fast, a little too enthusiastically, “can’t wait.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” he taunts, “you don’t have a choice. But I’ll get the rest of the guys out of here by two, and then you’ll have Virgin Mary all to yourself. He just won’t have you to himself.”

You make a confused face, “What’s with the emphasis on him being a horny virgin?”

“You don’t get why I want to watch, do you?” Haechan asks, and you shake your head. You’ve been tempted to ask, but you’ve already come to terms with the fact that your boyfriend sometimes works in mysterious ways far beyond your comprehension level. “Baby, I doubt Jisung’s gonna know what to do with you. He’s gonna need a couple of pointers plus a push in the right direction. And who knows your body and how to fuck you better than to me?”

No one. Not a single soul. You find it a little embarrassing, but not even you. Haechan didn’t take your virginity, but the first time sure felt like he had—he had reached places you didn’t know were there, let alone reachable, and he made sex seem like something totally new. No one has quite pleased you the way your boyfriend has.

“So you’re going to… teach him?” Is the conclusion you make when you put the pieces together, and Haechan nods.

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

That is what you want to call it.

Time passes rather slowly. Every hour feels twice as long, and you feel as though you’re going to die any moment now. The second you hear the sound of the guys piling outside the dorm, there’s a burst of excitement in you, making your stomach turn and swarm with butterflies. (It’s killed briefly when Jaemin rushes back inside, claiming he forgot his phone, but once they drive away you’re filled with bliss once more.)

Jisung steps outside his room, “Where’s everyone going?”

“Away,” Haechan replies vaguely as you two walk back down the hall.

“So it’s just us three?”

“Yep,” you and your boyfriend answer in unison.

Jisung looks absolutely petrified, though not wanting to appear suspicious (he’s kind of late, but it’s the effort that counts) his face soothes soon after. “Cool.” To him, it is anything but cool.

“Cool,” you repeat, “so you wanna watch a movie with us in Haechan’s room?”

“I don’t think I should—”

“Please?” Your eyes are begging him, pleading at him, and for safe measure, you add, “I miss you Sungie, it feels like it’s been forever.”

Truthfully, it hasn’t been anywhere near that long. Though Jisung knows that he’s been extremely distant with you—probably why you feel kicked away—and he feels terrible. Plus, it’s impossible to say no to you, especially when you give him that look, gazing at him like a sad puppy.

He gives in, “Okay.”

“Yay!” You clap your hands together. You clutch Jisung’s fist and begin to drag him down the hallway, “Babe go make popcorn!”

Some moments later, everyone’s settled down. The three of you sitting on Haechan’s bed, with you squeezed in the middle like the cream of an oreo. You rest your head on Jisung’s shoulder and he tenses a little at first, though eventually relaxs.

Everything’s going great and according to plan. Jisung looks calm, laughing the movie and being as naturally clingy as he usually is during movie nights. You and Haechan glance at one another occasionally, silently deciding on the perfect moment to strike and telepathically agreeing that that moment is now.

Haechan pauses Netflix, making Jisung whine in complaint. “Why’d you do that? It was getting suspenseful.”

“You’re getting a little comfortable, don’t you think?” Haechan tilts his head.

It takes Jisung a couple of seconds to realize what Haechan’s talking about, but once he does, he quickly separates his hands away from you and scoots over to put a little distance between the two of you.

His face burns like fire. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re a repeat offender, Jisung, sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time,” and before Jisung can apologize again, Haechan adds, “plus, I have another question for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung swallows sharply.

“When you watched that video, did you cum?” It’s you that asks the question this time, much to Jisung’s surprise. He’s chewing hard on his lip, nervousness spelt out across his face.

Still, he plays dumb, holding onto the slim piece of remaining hope he has to consider that maybe this is a joke, that you aren’t serious and don’t actually know he’s seen the video. “W-what video?” Even his own voice betrays him, and Jisung knows from this moment that he’s screwed. Terribly fucking screwed.

“I’m sure you know it very well. The one where she’s giving me head and I’m fucking her into this mattress, remember?” Haechan inquires, a smirk blooming onto his lips as he watches Jisung break.

He’s done, he thinks. You probably hate him. You’re probably disgusted with him, repulsed by him, and appalled that his prying eyes saw you in such a sexual context. He doesn’t look at you, afraid of what he might see, holding his head down low in shame as he’s unable to lie to you anymore. “Sorry. I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I didn’t, I wasn’t trying—I didn’t mean to, I just… I was just trying to find—”

“That video of me and Jeno from the beach, yes, Renjun told us. But you found something you liked better and just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Something about humiliating Jisung, toying with him a little simply to see how he reacts is fun to Haechan. All of his reactions, needless to say, are amusing; shuffling in his spot; fidgeting with his hands; swallowing and gulping hard; biting his bottom lip; and his eyes widening in panic as his cheeks sting with embarrassment.

You add, “We heard you last night, too. Do you always listen in on us like that?”

Jisung whimpers, “Y/n…”

“Answer my question, Sungie,” you lean into his ear, “do you always listen in on us like that?”

Whenever he’s awake, he definitely does. Jisung isn’t oblivious to the fact that if he can overhear Haechan’s room, then you guys can certainly overhear him in his room, but he thought he was quiet enough to get away with it. You have to give him credit, if Haechan would’ve never pointed it out you probably would have never noticed.

“Y-yes,” he admits in a low murmur, head still hanging low, “I’m sorry, you just sound so pretty when you… make noises, and it wakes me up. But sometimes I stay up and wait because I know you’ll start soon. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad? You don’t get it, do you?” You move to straddle his lap, gripping his chin to force eye contact with him. He appears taken aback by your actions, but doesn’t fight them. “If I was mad, we wouldn’t be doing this, Jisung. I’m here because I want you, and you want me, right?”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs as silence prevails over his voice.

“Answer her,” Haechan commands. “Do you want her?”

Jisung chokes out, “Yes.”

Shaking your head in dissatisfaction, you instruct, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Do I have to walk you through it like an ameteur?”

Jisung instantly shakes his head. He’s not a baby, he can do this. “You,” he finds the courage to say, fighting the urge to cower, “I want you.”

“Good boy,” you purr, “but you didn’t answer my first question, so I have some more for you.”

Trying his hardest to conceal how evidently the pet name fazes him while simultaneously bracing himself for the severity of your question, he asks coolly, “What are they?”

You lean back into his ear, but with you in his lap and his hands holding your waist this time, it feels so much different. “Do you moan for me when you cum?” Your voice tickles his neck, but he thinks he that likes it, “do you say my name?”

Fuck. Jisung could get hard at the memory, recalling all the times he’s came to you, moaning your name quietly to himself as he imagines you’re around his cock—your hands, your pussy, your mouth, anything. He’ll take anything as long as it’s from you. The only time he doesn’t moan your name is when he has to be silent, like when he was watching that video of you, in spite of how badly he wanted to call out for you right then and pray that you would somehow answer.

“Yes, fuck,” slowly, all of his shame and dignity is dissipating, “I imagine it’s you,” he mutters.

That gets you going as well. Jisung fucking his hand to the thought of you, pretending that it’s you, and moaning your name as he cums is a sight you’d pay to see. You’re pretty sure he’d send you a video for free though.

Deciding this needs to escalate quicker than it is, Haechan instructs, “Touch her, Jisung.”

“T-touch her?” Jisung repeats back, incredulous that this is the same Haechan who shoots him knife sharp glares whenever he so much as accidentally brushes his fingers against yours during movie nights. “Are you sure?”

“You think I’d ask you to touch my girlfriend if I wasn’t sure?” Haechan deadpans. “Honestly, you’re asking the wrong person.”

So Jisung shifts his focus back to you, and you eye him with these lustful eyes that tell him, scream at him that you want him. It’s so much like a fantasy that he’s half-tempted to pinch himself to test if he’s dreaming or if this is just a wet dream come true. “Can I touch you?” Jisung asks. His eyes are a little wide still, but he sounds so much more confident.

“Please,” you answer, and that’s all it takes for his hands to roam your body.

Jisung’s fingers move gracefully yet like the wild, untamable waver of a flame. As his fingers pull your top above your head, you can’t help but gaze at his fingers, long and bony. Fuck, you can only imagine the places they could reach, and you’re not too proud to say you’ve thought about it on more than one occasion. Because of your willingness to push it away though, the thought hasn’t ever bloomed into a full-on fantasy. Not until now, of course. This time however, you’re finding it perfectly acceptable to wonder.

He struggles to unclasp your bra though, earning a chorus of laughs from you and your boyfriend. But upon seeing Jisung’s flushed face, you try and teach him, with Haechan helping do a perfect demonstration.

Once Jisung thinks he has the hang of it, he says, “Put it back on.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “For what?”

“I want to see if I can do it,” he replies, making you and your boyfriend both scoff. But you indeed put the bra back on, and he successfully takes it off with a dramatic decrease in effort.

You nod in approval, “Good job.”

Jisung realizes he loves being praised by you. And in that same moment, he realizes that there isn’t much he won’t do to satisfy you so that he can hear you praise him some more.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth, fingers fiddling with your other one so that it wouldn’t be neglected. When Haechan talked down on Jisung for being a virgin, it made you think that you would have to teach him everything. But it seems like he’s done his research, because he knows a thing or two. That or he’s just naturally good.

“Shit,” you gasp, “Feels so good, Sungie.”

The look on your face tells him everything. You’re genuinely enjoying this, lips parted as you continue to moan little by little. If Jisung wasn’t hard before, he definitely is now. Something about your moans is severely intoxicating, and being able to hear them, seeing how you look when you moan in person is just on another level that the computer screen doesn’t compare to. It simply doesn’t do you justice.

You’re quickly becoming very needy and impatient. Jisung can feel Haechan’s eyes biting into his skin, silently waiting for the right moment to open his mouth, so Jisung decides not to make any advances on his own in dread of setting your boyfriend off. You on the other hand need him to pick up the pace, so you make the advance for him, picking up him free hand by the wrist and sticking it down your shorts. “Touch me,” you beg him with your mouth and eyes, “Please.”

He looks at Haechan, but surprisingly he’s nodding, urging him on. So Jisung complies, fighting the pitter-patter of his heart against his chest as he rubs you through your panties. You’re wet, he knows that much. Really fucking wet. It turns him on to think that he’s the root of it all, the reason why you’re soaking your underwear, especially because he’s wanted to touch you there for so long. He wonders how long it’ll be before he gets to touch you directly, without some flimsy fabric in the way of all the good stuff.

Lust blinding the two of you results in things to escalate somewhat quickly. It started with Jisung rubbing you through your panties, then you begging him for skin on skin contact, and then a complete change of positions after he hungrily takes off your shorts, finger fucking you as you eventually asked with your back flat against the mattress.

“Pay attention to the angle,” Haechan advises. “You can’t just shove your fingers in her and hope for the best. And don’t let having longer fingers get to your head, it’s pointless if you don’t know how to use them. Same with your dick.”

“I know that,” Jisung hisses. “Just because I’m new to this doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Just being careful, Ji. You’d be surprised how many people don’t know that. If you’re gonna fuck my girlfriend, I gotta at least make sure you’re doing it right,” you’re almost completely tuned out of the conversation, only picking up on bits of pieces as you’re too concentrated on the way Jisung’s fingers plunge in and out of you, coated in your arousal. “And pay attention to her body, it’ll tell you everything you need to know. See what makes her moan, squirm, beg—all that good stuff—and what doesn’t.”

If Haechan has you muffling screams when you fuck every other night, then Jisung’s sure he knows what he’s talking about, so he silently takes his advice. You seem to be enjoying this, and he wonders how he can take it further, how he can find out where you’re sensitive.

He decides to explore, not exactly letting his fingers run wild but experimenting here and there until he finds the spot. And when you cry out a little suddenly, he’s sure he’s found it. “Fuck,” you cry out in bliss, “Right there, Jisung, god.”

His fingers continue to hit you there, and he tries to burn the spot into his memory. It’s uncertain if he’ll ever get this opportunity again—and that’s when he realizes he should make sure this experience is as pleasurable as possible, just in case this is a once in a lifetime thing—but he wants to remember for safe measure.

For some reason, Jisung has the urge to look at Haechan again, so he does, and sees the man mouthing the words, Pull out.

Jisung is utterly confused. He mouths back, Why?

Just do it, Haechan says.

It takes Jisung a little. He’s reluctant. After all, one look at your face tells him that you’re all blissed out, and he thinks you’re pretty close. So why would he pull his fingers away? The point is to please you, isn’t it? Though not wanting to mess up, he hesitantly does as told.

“Jisung,” you whine when you’re suddenly empty, and Jisung hates it. He wants you to say his name in pleasure, in satisfaction, not like this.

“Haechan told me to!” He defends himself quickly.

“I did,” Haechan unabashedly confirms. “Don’t let her cum yet, making her wait is part of the fun and makes her want you more. Just get her wet enough so that you can fuck her good.”

Figuring that you’re wet enough, he turns to look at you. “Can I… can I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you’re literally about to beg, you’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity, “please do, I can’t wait anymore. Need you so bad, Sungie.”

Jisung feels like he’s out of his mind. A part of him still refuses to believe that this is real, that this is actually happening. That instead of being mad at him for invading your privacy, you’re here begging for him to fuck you. He’s not sure what’s more surprising, the fact that you want to fuck him or the fact that Haechan is allowing this to happen, even telling him what to do to please you. You’re begging for him. You’re spreading your legs for him. You’re wet—all for him. It crosses his mind that maybe this isn’t a good idea, but with those three things considered, he can’t bring himself to care anymore. Haechan doesn’t care that he’s fucking his girlfriend, you don’t even care that he’s fucking you, so why should he?

Jisung drops his pants and lets his boxers hit the ground. There’s nothing holding him back anymore, not when he sees you gawking at him (unlike Haechan, he leans more to the lengthy side rather than girthy, though as long as he follows Haechan’s instructions you’re sure you’ll both be fine). It gives him a little ego boost.

“Condom?” He asks.

“You don’t have to use one,” you say, nearly making Jisung’s jaw drop, “just hurry up, please.”

What comes over him as he slides into you is beyond him, but the process is effortless and he just skates in. “Fuck,” he grunts, needing time for himself before he can even move. He’s barely moved an inch, but he can tell the real thing is a billion times better than his palm.

“Start slow,” Haechan says. “You’ve made her want it, but most importantly, you have to make her need it. Make her beg for you to pick up the pace, and then go faster. Not too fast, but not too slow, either.”

Jisung complies, drawing it out a little. With the way you feel around him it’s difficult to resist moving around freely, but then he remembers what he was thinking about making this as pleasure as possible for the two of you and decides it’s worth the wait. Something tells him to grip your waist so he does, his fingers dipping around your hips, and in return you let your hands fly to the empty space on his back.

You’re crying out in pleasure, need, yearning—all of the above. You probably should have expected Haechan to descend his teasing ways onto Jisung. He’s ever so slowly stretching you out, not pushing his whole size into you, but gently wedging it inside bit by bit at an agonizingly slow pace. It’s useful preparation, but once most of his length is sliding in and out of you so leisurely, your patience has ran significantly thin.

“Faster, Jisung. Please,” there’s tears pricking your eyes, and he hasn’t even really done anything yet, “want—no, I need you to fuck me so much.”

“How much?” He asks, catching everyone in the room, including himself, off-guard a little bit, but he doesn’t back down.

“It fucking hurts,” nothing but desperacy fills your tone when you whimper. Luckily enough you’re used to this tormenting treatment from your boyfriend, so you have a couple tricks up your sleeve. “Don’t you want it too, Sungie? You said it yourself that you think about this. Don’t you wanna make your dreams come true?”

Jisung grunts and caves in, allowing himself to move a little faster. He’s honestly tired of torturing you and himself.

“I’m almost impressed,” Haechan begins, nearly startling Jisung as his presence for once almost goes forgotten. It feels a little unnerving to Jisung that he’s been watching so closely, but he refuses to let that get in the way of fucking you. “Keep it up. Talk to her. Definitely not too much to point where’s it gets annoying, but not too little to the point where it’s awkward. Make observations, compliment her, ask her shit like you just did.”

Jisung simply nods in understanding, not bothering to drop some bitter reply. He’s too focused on you, on how you look, on how you feel, and he wonders if he’ll ever have the opportunity to see how you taste. He’s never ate anyone out before, but he thinks that your pussy is so pretty that there’s a first time for everything.

Meanwhile, you’re lost in the realm that is pleasure, savoring the way his dick inches in and out of you, filling you to the brim, slipping out, then pushing back inward. It’s hard to believe Jisung’s winging this—he has to have really been paying attention because he’s so fucking good at this, tip so far kissing all the right places. You like the way he holds your hips, so firm and secure like you’re precious and he’s afraid of shattering you (even though you wouldn’t mind if he did.)

From beside you your boyfriend is groaning, and that’s when you think to shift your gaze in his direction, realizing he’s finally stripped his lower body. His dick is in his palm, tall and erect, and you’re impressed that he’s gone this long without touching himself—or most surprisingly you. As much as Haechan likes to talk down on Jisung for being horny, he can’t blame him because he’s the exact same. Worse, even, especially for you.

“Touch her,” even in this state, Haechan still has pointers to offer, “Anywhere she’s sensitive for extra stimulation. Rub her clit—if you know where it is. Or what it is. Do you even know what that is, Jisung?”

“Yes, I know what it is, Haechan,” As if to prove his point, Jisung drops his hand down to your cunt. If you thought the way his fingers accidentally brushed against you was amazing, you were no where near prepared for the feeling of them toying with your clit. “Right here.”

“Oh, g-god, Jisung,” you stammer out, rocking your hips onto his hand. “More, please. I want more,” he’s quick to obey, applying pleasure to your clit while his fingers softly kiss your cunt in the same motion. “Just like that!”

Some moments pass, all actions consistent though Jisung isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up. He’s having this fuzzy, trance-like feeling, where everything seems like nothing greater than his imagination. The only reason he knows he’s not dreaming is because of the way you feel around him. It’s like pinching himself, except this is pleasurable. Your bare walls are warm, tight, and wet as ever around him, and he knew from the moment he slid in you that he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight.

That video doesn’t compare to this. His fist doesn’t compare to this. He can’t describe it, not with one-hundred percent accuracy, because absolutely no other feeling in the world compares to this. You look so fucked out beneath him, bliss spelt out across your face, and he’s proud that he’s the reason why. He had always known that he could do this with a little help, that he was fully capable of satisfying you. He just never thought that he’d ever be given the chance.

“Shit, y/n. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, the deepness of his voice driving you closer to the edge. You’ve always found it hot, but it’s more extreme with his dick inside you.

Close, I’m close,” you moan, feeling the tightening in your stomach, “are you gonna cum?”

“Shit, y-yeah. Gonna cum. Can I—”

Picking up on what he’s asking before he even has to chance to state it himself, you say, responding a little over-eagerly, “Yes, fuck, cum in me. Please don’t pull out.”

You’re seeing stars, you swear. Bright white twinkling ones that cloud your vision as you cum, digging your nails into Jisung’s back. It helps that he’s rubbing you in your most sensitive area, fucking you so perfectly, and that Haechan’s sweet moans are audible beside you. You aren’t sure who cums first between the three of you, but you do know his cum is leaking from your cunt after his hips stutter to a stop, and he can’t help but fill you with a load of white.

It takes you a long while to collect your breath. But afterwards your boyfriend swoops you into his arms, placing you in his care once the deed is done. “Last pointer,” he says, “always check up on the person you’re fucking. Good aftercare is extremely important after sex.”

“Are you okay?” Jisung asks, and you find it cute how his eyes look so filled with concern.

“Seriously never been better,” you manage to respond through heavy breaths. “Haechan, can you join us next time?”

Haechan looks repulsed by the idea. “Who said there was going to be a next time?” This saddens you considerably, and Jisung too, but he does a better job at concealing it. “You did good, Jisung. Hope you find your own person to use your new skills on. C’mon babe, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You follow your boyfriend into the bathroom, and Jisung sees himself out. At least he has new material to jack off to, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t feel you again. You’re just too good to give away, so he understands why Haechan is so determined to keep you to himself.

But fuck, you’re too sweet to let go of.

“Ever heard the phrase sex is a remedy?”

“No.”

“That’s because I just made it up,” Haechan grins, and you roll your eyes consequently.

It proves true in some circumstances, you’ll give him that. Prime example: Jisung. Ever since that day, things between you have cooled. He started sitting next to you during movie nights again, even going as far putting his head in your lap (much to Haechan’s annoyance), actually talks to you, and looks at you (maybe a little too much.)

Yet surprisingly, he doesn’t seem that bashful anymore. It isn’t like he’s ever been the type to shy away, though this is next-level. No more shy waves or meek hello’s. No more weak eye contact. No more hesitance in touching you, despite him potentially being able to piss your boyfriend off. He’s so relaxed, so calm and so certain of his actions, and you kind of like it. There’s a chance the sex got to his head a little, but perhaps it was a push in the right direction and plus, you find confidence very sexy.

But you push these thoughts away as fast as they come. Whatever you had with Jisung is done, it can’t happen again. You all had your fun, now it’s time to let it go.

You pout, “Why are you leaving me alone for so long? I’m gonna miss you.”

Haechan’s going out with some of the guys to handle what he titles manly affairs. If you didn’t know any better you’d say that probably translates to I’m going somewhere to play video games, but you saw Jeno in his gym shorts. They’re definitely about to go hit the gym.

“Relax, I’m going to be back in a couple of hours and you aren’t alone—Renjun and Jisung will still be here to keep you company. Speaking of which, Renjun said that if you keep treating this like a second home he’s gonna start making you split the rent with us,” your boyfriend snickers.

“I was joking!” Renjun shouts from the hall, coincidentally walking down at the same time you happen to be talking about him.

“I think Renjun should mind his own business,” you say, and he rolls his eyes prior to stepping inside the bathroom. “And why aren’t they going with the rest of you?”

“Won rock paper scissors,” Haechan mutters, “but back to what I was saying about sex being a remedy, I promise I’ll make you cum at least three times when I get back.”

“Why three?”

“Because I don’t think you can handle four,” your boyfriend kisses you on the lips for a second so short it feels unreal, and you’re torn between focusing on that or informing him that he sounds like that one Reese’s commercial, “but I gotta go. See you later, babe, love you!”

“I love you more!”

“No, I love you mo—wait. I see what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work,” he catches on, earning a gloomy frown from you. At least you tried. “Now goodbye, I love you most!”

“No, I—” before you can even chuck out half your sentence, the door is rudely shut in your face.

You huff. He cheated.

Alas, you’re left alone. Flopping down onto the couch, you consider that Renjun’s probably right about you overstaying your welcome, though it isn’t like you’re here all day every day. Two days a week at most. You have your own lovely apartment free of men that fight over video games and superior pizza toppings. Speaking of men, you’re tempted to go annoy Renjun in order to pass the time, but then Jisung creeps from the shadows of his room and you’re suddenly no longer interested in the former.

“Sungie!”

You don’t seem to notice the look on his face when you call him that, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to make out what it meant. It’s fleeting, gone before it’s ever really there. Jisung covers it up with a smile, though can’t help but feel the nickname has an entirely different feeling. It used to be cute—innocent and sweet. But then he heard you begging for him and that changed his perception of the word forever.

He figures that he should probably let it go, though. It happened almost a week ago, the sex. It was fun, he knows that. All parties enjoyed it, he knows that too, but he also knows that Haechan would never let it happen again. Hell, he’s still surprised that he let it happen a first time.

“Y/n,” he smiles cheerily, joining you on the couch. You sit upright to make room for him. “you’re here while Haechan’s not?”

“Oh, yeah. All my clothes that I have here are dirty so I’m waiting for them to finish washing and drying,” you explain, Jisung listening and nodding understandingly, “I also don’t feel like driving.”

Jisung laughs, “I can’t drive so I’d be zero help with that, but I can help with your laundry. Do you need any assistance?”

“I’m good,” you shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

Jisung nods. “Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both know shit is anything but cool. And if you’re being completely honest, the silence that fills the room is a tad bit awkward. You’re sure you’re both thinking the same thing, though neither of you want to say it. However, there’s a major difference between a want and a need.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” he initiates.

You sigh—in relief or not, Jisung can’t tell. “So I’m not the only one who realized.”

So, maybe your analogy was slightly wrong. Maybe sex wasn’t a perfect remedy for your Jisung situation. Or maybe Haechan’s made-up saying needs some clarification: sex is a temporary remedy, that eventually subsides into a plethora of other problems.

False advertisement.

“Yeah,” Jisung chews at his lip, “it’s been gnawing at me for a while. I mean, I get that it was supposed to be a one-time thing, but I can’t be the only one that’s having trouble forgetting.”

He isn’t, much to your misfortune, and it’s been gnawing at you. It’s even worse since Haechan hasn’t acknowledged that day since it happened, and you don’t have it in you to bring it up this time. You know he’s down to try lots of things, though at some point there’s a line you know better than to cross.

Yet the lingering memory is still tattooed onto your brain, and you can’t simply forget how wonderful it felt for Jisung to touch you; how good and deep he felt inside you; how perfectly his fingers felt on your clit; how blissful you felt when you came in his embrace. It doesn’t help that Jisung is impossibly attractive, and you can’t help but want to do things to him, or let him do things to you—you couldn’t care less.

“No, me too,” this time it’s you struggling to hold eye contact, opting to look down, “but Haechan already has, and is it really worth going behind his back?”

Jisung pokes his cheek. “I know. We don’t have to act on it, I just wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Okay.” You look up at him again. He’s still looking at you, unfaltering. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

He nods a little. “Yeah. Sure.”

Fetching the remote, you open Netflix under Chenle’s account (poor him. The cons of sucking at GamePigeon 8ball.) and select a movie. It’s nothing spectacular, but holds your attention fairly well for a while. Nothing new seemingly happens with Jisung—he’s not on your lap, though still touchy, replacing his head with his hand as he lies his head on your shoulder. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. As if things couldn’t get any worse, your body refuses to listen to your brain, allowing itself to look at his hands as your brain shouts at it not to. With the sight of his fingers planted firmly into your brain, showering little seeds, it’s impossible to forget those six days ago. Even if you try and push the memory away, it’s helpless. Your body remembers, and doesn’t want to forget.

His slender fingers plunging inside you is all you can think about. You shut your eyes, yet the image burns into your eyelids. You open them again, yet it’s still there, fueled more by sight of his fingers close to you. It doesn’t help that they’re dangerously close to the inside of your thighs, the proximity making you sweat.

“Are we gonna pretend you don’t want me to finger you right now?”

His voice startles you. Jisung knows you think he hasn’t caught you, but he does—he did. It’s impossible to ignore the burn of your stare.

Fuck, when did he get so bold? “Jisung,” you whine, already sensing this is going to head in a direction you simultaneously do and don’t wish for it to.

“I want to do the right thing, I really do, but it isn’t easy knowing you want me, I want you, and we’re not doing anything about it,” he’s slowly rubbing circles onto your thigh, which is significantly bare since you’re in un-lengthy Dolphin shorts, “can’t we do it one more time? Fuck it out?”

“You and I both know that if we do it again this won’t be the last time,” you say.

He doesn’t look half-bothered by the idea. “That’s not something we have to worry about right now though, right?”

Fuck.

You know better than to give in like this, but it’s much too late the moment he sneaks you inside his room and lies you flat on his bed. You also know that you could stop at any time you wish, but as terrible as it sounds, you don’t want to stop. It’s basically been said that you’ll deal with the consequences later, letting impulsivity win.

“Can I taste you?” His voices sounds so hot when he says this. You can’t help but nod, allowing himself to have his way with you.

Jisung tugs down your shorts in fervor, your panties following suit and meeting one another in a growing pile on the floor. He’s seen it before, though he can’t help but gawk at the sight your cunt, dripping with arousal and he’s hardly even touched you. You’re so pretty to him that he can’t help but run a finger through your folds, spurred on further when you gasp aloud.

“Never done this before,” he says, yet he sounds ready as ever, “so tell me what to do.”

Impatiently, you nod. “Just go with the flow and I’ll help you from there.”

Your eager motion and the way you buck your hips up is more than enough to signal to Jisung that you’re ready. He takes it as you giving him the green light to begin, tongue experimentally prodding against your folds. It’s like all his hesitance dissipates the moment he gets a hold of you, as though the mere taste of you has put a spell on him that he can’t wake up from. He isn’t sure what comes over him in this moment, though he knows that he wants to savor it—the taste, the feeling, the craving. A single taste of you is enough to fill him with greed and then he’s eating you out like he just can’t get enough of you, as though there’s a burning fervor coursing through his veins that can’t be ceased.

“Sungie,” you cry. It’s been a couple of days since you’ve been given head and you’d consider that a while, so the relief is extra phenomenal. You’re sure that even if it had been yesterday, you’d be just as weak to his touch.

Then, so torturously, he pulls away. Before you can complain, Jisung shushes you. “I’m sorry, but you have to be quiet. Renjun’s here.”

Your eyes widen slightly. You had honestly completely forgotten about the other, though fortunately, this isn’t your first rodeo. If there’s anything sneaking around in the middle of the night with Haechan has taught you, it’s how to be quiet. The only reason Jisung’s overheard you is because his room happens to be directly next to the one that your boyfriend owns.

“I can be quiet,” you murmur.

Jisung scoffs. “Sure, you can.”

Affronted, you’re inclined to protest, until Jisung’s lips meet your pussy again and you’re silenced, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to muffle any potential sounds you might make. He picks up again, listening with super-sense to the quiet moans you utter as you’re unable to hold all of the volume in. It helps him apply his knowledge, playing close mind to what garners pleased reactions from you and your body.

His tongue skirts around, and he gets the wonderful idea to target your clit. The moment the muscle swirls it’s way there, you know that staying quiet is gonna be more difficult than you thought. Your lips nearly shudder shut and he pushes them open, his grip firm as he spreads you apart ever so gently.

“G-good, feels so good,” you moan softly, careful to lower your volume, “you’re doing so well.”

Jisung’s tongue is anything but gentle, however. Spurred on, he darts his tongue like it knows magical spells of it’s own, putting one on you that you fall deeper into with every stroke. The pressure feels amazing, and you can practically feel your heartbeat between your thighs. It’s honestly admirable how quick of a learner he is, paying full attention to how your body responds to his touch and solely acting on that. No previous experiences, just you and his intuition.

You really don’t have to tell him what to do. If there’s any question, you naturally give him the perfect answer. When you moan, when you whimper, when you beg. When your thighs quiver and your hips buck up in greed, it’s all a telltale signal of arousal, perfect sign of pleasure. In the moment, your fingers reach for his hair, threading through his locks and drawing him closer to you desperately. You want to feel this to the maximum, until you quite literally are numb.

It’s a miracle that you’re far from numb right now though, feeling every lap. He’s making you feel so good and it’s so hard to stay silent to the point where you’re contemplating stuffing your fist in your mouth. If Jisung was extra nosy, he would have seen another video of you and Haechan on his MacBook, a video of Haechan eating you out while everyone else was seemingly asleep. You wonder if Jisung was listening in that night, if he heard your muffled sounds after Haechan stuffed your mouth with your panties. Gosh, you aren’t sure why the thought of him hearing you in such lewd ways still arouses you. You just know that you want him to have you, you want to pry into his mind and carry out every fantasy he’s ever imagined as he got off to the sound of you.

If this was amazing, you don’t think that there’s an accurate word in the dictionary to describe the feeling of what Jisung does next. He presses his tongue inside you, his hand replacing his mouth as he simultaneously plays with your clit. Your whole body feels hot now, like piece by piece, you’re being consumed by fire.

Between watching you struggle to conceal your moans, and the way your face scrunched in pleasure as you do, he doesn’t know what’s hotter. He could do this forever if it meant seeing you break on his tongue like this. Hastily your resolve is cracking, and he knows he could have you wrapped around his finger. In fact, he thinks he probably already does. It may be wrong, though it’s only fair since you’ve had him wrapped around yours since the moment he met you.

Then he notices something—your moans are getting louder, your thighs are quaking more, and overall you look so much more blissed out. That could mean only one thing: you’re close. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he pulls away.

“Jisung!” if it wasn’t for the fact that Renjun was home, you think that you’d probably scream your lungs off. You’re also beginning to think that Haechan influencing Jisung was a bad decision. “You know that you don’t have to edge me, right? Like, even if I cum from foreplay, you can make me cum again.”

“I know,” he smiles, licking your juices off his mouth, “but I wanted to.”

Scratch that. It was a horrible decision. Now, Jisung’s equally as much of a sadistic piece of shit as Haechan.

Before you can whine, he says, “But I’ll make it up to you, if you let me,” he starts palming you with his hand, earning these little moans from you. Then he looks at you, with that pretty gleam in his eye that makes you want to fuck the shit out of him. “Will you let me?”

Ultimately, you let him. It didn’t take much for you to cave in—he had already given you head, aroused you yet refused to let you cum, so now you’re desperate for an orgasm. Plus, this has already gone too far. It might’ve not done any wrong to stop things from going any further, yet it isn’t like it would do any good, either. You’re in too deep, once you’ve started you can’t stop.

Jisung undresses you, showing you that he remembers how to unclasp a bra, and then he undresses himself. The sight of your naked body isn’t foreign to him anymore, yet he’ll still continue to marvel as though it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Fuck that—it is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“I wanna ride you,” you say, snapping him out of his daze.

He blinks dumbly. “Huh?”

Gently, you push him onto his back. “I wanna ride you,” his eyes are on you, watching you with a lustful shadow dimming his eyes. “Are you gonna let me?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” he tells you, gaze never once leaving yours.

Fuck, he’s so damn hot.

You straddle him, and once your knees are on either side of him you sink onto his dick, a sound of relief being drawn from both of you. Instantly you feel so full, yet that doesn’t stop the need built up inside you from yelling for a release. You allow yourself to adjust all over again before you start really moving, grinding onto him.

The stretch almost makes it feel like you’ve never been here before but you take it, fingers clutching his shoulders for leverage as his arms anchor around your waist, keeping you in close proximity. You’ve allowed him to go in bare again so the feeling is as raw as it was the first time around, yet Jisung still doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. How your walls tighten around his dick, how the wet squelch of your cunt sounds when he enters you. It’s fucking mesmerizing—you’re fucking mesmerizing, and he’s happy to have you all to himself even if it’s for a moment.

“How does it feel, Sungie?” You ask, already having your answer when you look at his face.

The same way Jisung can see through you, he’s like glass to you, a mirror even. He’s beautiful beneath you, face scrunched up in pleasure, and the tightening grip on your waist is a crystal clear sign that he’s enjoying this. It’s entertaining hearing him trying not to moan, his sounds muffled as deep little grunts that you’re sure he’s oblivious of how fucking sexy they are. In contrast you can’t stop thinking about what lives rent-free in your mind, wishing you could be louder so that you’d hear the full extent of his beautiful sounds.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, surprising yet pleasing you. If he keeps up the sexy noises, you’re going to cum hard.

You smile, “All for you.”

In this particular moment, it is all for him, and that’s enough for him. He likes that he’s able to get you wet, he likes that he turns you on, he likes that you want him, he likes that he has so much control and influence over your body. And you like when he treats you like you’re his.

Jisung also enjoys watching you fuck yourself on him, ever so desperately chasing your orgasm. He hates denying you it, but that unfortunately doesn’t make Haechan any less right. It is a part of the fun because it makes you needier, and there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you all delicate and fragile, so greedy for his touch. And in your determination to cum, you’re using his shoulders to hold yourself together as your pussy swallows his dick. He knows it’s going to be a sight when you actually do cum, to see you fall apart on top of him as you finally reach your climax.

His gaze lingering on your body, Jisung suddenly feels the urge to touch you. You’re so beautiful all over, it’s only right that he appreciates every aspect of your body equally. Slowly, he drags his hands up from your waist to your breast, fundling with your breast. His fingers graze over your nipples and when you gasp, he can’t contain his smile. You’re so sensitive there, it’s so fun to mess with you simply to see you react.

“Your body’s so beautiful,” he’s really just thinking aloud at this point, but you enjoy the compliment, especially as you notice the in-awe gleam in his eyes. He looks like he’s seen you pluck a star from the sky, or summon the moon with your palm.

That’s when he gets an idea. One he’s always daydreamed about, yet never thought to ask you until now, when he’s thinking of all the ways to show your body love. “Is it okay if I kiss you? Not on the lips, but your skin.”

He thinks it sounds weird to ask, but you’re delighted by the question. “Y-yeah,” you answer mid-moan, and you can feel his dick twitching inside you, “just don’t bite or suck or do anything that’ll leave a trail and make marks.”

He hadn’t even thought about marking you, though now that you mention it, he really wishes he had the chance. He’s ignored the faint ones that linger on your body from your boyfriend, fading blotches of color. Instead, he does what he can, delivering little kisses to your skin. It starts from the valley of your breast, and slowly yet steadily falls down.

Jisung notices your breath getting shallower when you kiss him. When he passes by your breast, he makes sure to flick at your nipples with his tongue, driving an unsuspecting mewl from you. His kisses leave a hot sensation all over your body, like some kind of Midas Touch where everything he touches feel like fire. It’s a kind of fire you don’t want to be put out, that you want to let it’s flames eat at you and burn you. That’s exactly what Jisung’s touch does, and it’s driving you crazy. You don’t know how long you can keep this up before you have to let go.

You’re fucking yourself onto him at a steady rhythm, biting your lip profusely as you rock yourself against him, finding the spot that drives you to insanity. You look so fucked out but Jisung’s not any better, struggling just as much as you are to keep your sounds in. He’s so vocal, and you’d appreciate it more if it weren’t for Renjun being only some yards away.

You think of the perfect way to shush him, leaning in to crash your lips against his. With your eyes shut, you miss the way his go wide, yet he lets your mouth guide him and sinks his hands back around your waist. After all, he did say that you could do whatever you wanted with him.

Once you’ve confirmed he’s not backing away, you shift your hands from his shoulders to his hair, carding your fingers through there and drawing him closer this way. A particular movement causes him to moan in your mouth, and by then you feel beyond ecstatic. You feel high off of the pleasure, senses heightened and everything around you seems to slow. It’s a beautiful moment, filled with heavy breath and low moans, and you wonder if he feels the same.

Jisung pulls away, panting, “I’m not going to last.”

You guess that gives you your answer, because you’re so in sync, your body’s mirroring one another.

“Me neither. Fill me up, Sungie. Please.”

You’re clenching around him repeatedly, and he’s sure that’s what triggers his orgasm. That’s when Jisung meets his breaking point, biting his lip as his cum shoots inside you, yet you’re still close enough to hear the deep sound of his perfect groans. He recalls thinking that having you like this one tike would be enough for him to move on from you, but he’s onto his second and it’s already been somewhat established that there’s plenty more where this comes from. You just feel too good, more than he could have ever imagined.

The way you draw his name when you cum, clutching onto him so tightly as you work your way through his orgasm before leaning against his shoulders, it’s enough to spur him on once more. He’s realizing that he could seriously do this forever—you’re that addicting.

“Are you okay?” He asks through heavy breathing, holding you to his chest.

“I’m good,” you sigh, satisfied. “Thighs are kinda sore, but I’m good. What about you?”

Jisung rubs your thighs gently, but replies honestly, “I want to go again.”

You’re honestly astonished. You already knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, however you also didn’t expect the third to be so soon. You’ve hardly relaxed from this round, and the ache in your thighs is screaming at you to slow it down.

“My thighs ache, Jisung,” you laugh.

He pushes you onto your back, moving his head between your legs again and kissing softly at your thighs. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers between kisses. “If you let me,” he gazes up at you, meeting your eyes. “Will you let me?”

In that moment, you feel purely hypnotized by him. Something tells you that this is a bad idea and that it’s getting out of hand, but it’s been that way since the moment this begun. You know it sounds corny, but though it’s wrong, you can’t stop this from feeling so fucking right.

And in that same moment, you realize that you’ll also let him do whatever he wants with you.

Sneaking around with Jisung becomes routine.

It’s like you two just can’t get enough of each other, drawn to the other’s body as though there’s some magnetic force between you, as though he’s a moth and you’re his flame.

When everyone’s back is turned, you find time to one another. Sometimes when the guys go away. Sometimes when they’re all asleep. Sometimes you even invite him over to the solace of your home, with no roommates, no one like you who uses the WiFi and the Netflix without paying even a quarter of a bill. Him and you. No more, no less.

Times such as now. Times when he has you backed against your front door as soon as he steps inside your apartment, out of sheer desperation. It isn’t always like this, sometimes you take turns taking control. Sometimes you fight for it until the other submits. Sometimes you’re so desperate for each other that neither of you can even think to care about control, just submitting to the desire in your bodies.

“Missed you, too,” you take his eager actions as a non-verbal way of saying I missed you. You gasp when he doesn’t respond, just pressing his lips to your skin. He doesn’t suck or bite, God knows he wants to though he knows better, but shows love to your body as he slides your shirt off.

It’s been longer than it usually is since the last time you’ve seen him, so he has every right to behave like a touch-starved virgin again. “God, I really fucking missed you,” he grumbles in your ear, cupping your chest. You bet he does. The reason you haven’t met up until now is because you two haven’t had the opportunity. It’s either the guy’s have been around more often, you’re prioritizing Haechan, or one of you are too busy and burdened with work to find time.

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he’s entirely clueless.

It isn’t like either of you are stupid enough to downright stick a hand down the other’s pants, however you’re still too touchy. Your fingers soothe through Jisung’s hair as his head lies in your lap, or his hand rests near the danger-zone of your thigh.

Haechan hasn’t brought this up, though you still feel the sting of his stare and it burns mightily. As a solution, you’ve come to the agreement to keep the contact to a minimum as long as he’s around, and use your place more often so that you aren’t starving each other of touch completely. It’s a solid plan. Haechan visits your place occasionally though not nearly as much as you visit the dorms, so you figure you two should be safe.

“Do you?” Jisung nods, not missing a beat and staring you down with the most hungry eyes. “Then show me, Sungie. Prove it.”

That’s all it takes for him to lead you to the couch and fuck you until you can’t even think — however if you could, you’d think that you honestly can’t handle it anymore.

There’s been times where you’ve almost been caught. Most recently, during the middle of the night the last time you stayed the night at the dorms. You decided to meet Jisung in his room for a quickie, slithering out of your boyfriend’s grasp and tiptoeing down the halls, thanking god that Haechan’s a heavy sleeper.

The minute you hooked your hand on his doorknob, you were given the scare of your life by no other than Huang Renjun (you swear, he’s always in the hallway at the most inconvenient of times ever.)

“What are you doing?”

You jumped. High as a Kangaroo. Turning to see who had caught you, you nearly let out a relieved breath when you realized it wasn’t Haechan. Then you realized it was Renjun, and all the panic in you resurfaced like clockwork.

Luckily, your lying skills are nothing short of impeccable because you follow one simple rule: don’t lie more than you have to.

“Going into Jisung’s room,” you answer honestly.

Renjun quirked his eyebrow. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t he asleep?”

“Oh, you know how he is. Afraid of everything under the sun, and he texted me that he had a bad nightmare so I volunteered to be his human teddy bear until he falls asleep.”

“Typical,” Renjun snorted, but he looked more convinced than you thought he would. “Good night, then. And tell him I said to grow up.”

Putting forward your best, oscar-worthy laugh, you told him goodnight back as he slipped away to his room, and you finally entered Jisung’s, shutting the door behind you and trying desperately hard not to laugh as you saw his face.

He frowned, “Scared of everything under the sun? Human teddy bear? Seriously?”

“You should be grateful that my oscar-worthy performance kept us from being found out,” you replied as you walked to his bed. It wasn’t unrealistic, Jisung doesn’t have nightmares as much as he used to anymore, though he’s certainly a scaredy-cat. You have no idea how he found the balls to sneak around with you. “Actually, I think I deserve a reward.”

Jisung pulled your shorts down your ankles, “You think so?”

“I do,” you smiled.

“Then,” Jisung paused to kiss you, addicted to the feeling of your lips ever since you first pressed them against his. It was a craving he didn’t even know he had until you gave him a taste. “Let me reward you.”

“This isn’t gonna be a quickie, is it?”

“Bet me,” he said, a little smirk on his lips that he slightly tried to hide. “How fast you think I can make you cum.”

He’s insane. That’s the conclusion you’d drawn from every moment you’ve spent naked beside him. You can’t deny it though, you like it, even if it’s a little dangerous and very unwise.

You furrowed your brows, “Bet? Like, money? Or orgasms?”

An even better currency in mind, Jisung shook his head. “Rounds.”

You knew what that meant. Jisung wanted you to himself. He was never satisfied with only one round — even if it meant overstimulating himself, he was desperate to have you until neither of you could continue, sore and exhausted from the work.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Six minutes. If you can’t, you get one round. If you can, then gosh, you deserve as many rounds as you want.”

To be honest, you never pay much attention to how fast he makes you cum, too caught up in the moment to even consider the amount of time you’d spent in that way, skin on skin, body to body. So the only person you’re sure has made you cum in six minutes or less is Haechan, because you explicitly remember him setting a timer to prove himself to you.

In spite of all that, Jisung looked confident. He passed you his iPhone and shifted to your bottom half, pushing your thighs open. “I’m ready when you are.”

Nodding, you set the clock.

Long story short, Jisung had as much fun as he wanted with you that night.

You’ve also been setting precautions. If it’s too risky for you to see each other in person, then you settle for exchanging nudes and things alike.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t actually intended for it to. It was more of a joke, you were texting each other and you playfully suggested that Jisung should send you a video of his own as reparations for his snooping. When he didn’t respond for a while you had your suspensions, but you didn’t think he’d actually hit you back with a video of himself, stroking his dick and moaning your name with a tremble in his voice.

In that moment you were given an idea of what it was like when he got off to your moans in another room, how he sounded and not so much how he looked since the focus was never really on his face, but you’ve seen his blissed-out expressions enough to come up with it on your own. It turned you on, enough to make you send back a video of your own, and from that day on it became a bad habit of yours to exchange explicit images and videos whenever you were separated.

It’s so late at night yet so early in the morning when the text hits your phone, I need you.

He caught you at a good time. Feeling hot and bothered yourself, you were honestly about to fetch your vibrator from it’s hiding spot in your closet because you knew your boyfriend had fallen asleep and assumed that Jisung had as well, at least until he texted you.

How bad is it? You send back, instead choosing to lie back on your bed, resting on your stomach as you wait for the typing bubble to transform into some type of message.

This bad. The attachment makes you bite your lip after he sends it. Sometimes when Jisung sends nudes of himself he isn’t very nude, he likes to send dick prints to tease you because he knows you want the full image. Though this time, his pants and boxers are discarded, he has his hand curled around the base of his erect dick, and you can tell at once that he’s much too desperate to be in the position to tease you. In fact, he’s probably hoping you’ll be generous to him.

He’s needy as hell right now, you can feel it. And how cruel would it be of you to not help him?

You grab your vibrator and prop your phone on your pillow, positioning it so that it’d film you perfectly. It’s late, and you have work tomorrow so you don’t have that much time to sext with Jisung, so you instead decide to send him a video you know will last him for now. You press record, and wiggle yourself out of your panties exaggeratedly, knowing he’ll love the gesture. He always does. Then you spread your thighs apart, enough so that he’d easily be able to see how wet you are. For a while you tease yourself with your fingers, allowing little moans to fall from your lips before you desperately reach for your vibrator.

The feeling of it against you almost makes you forget that there’s a camera watching you, and that this is supposed to be for Jisung more than it is for you. You’re not worried, however. The thought of him has successfully infiltrated your mind, and you can’t help but moan his name louder than your ears can register. With your eyes firmly shut, you’re imagining it’s him between your thighs—his dick, his mouth, anything. In this moment you, don’t care. You can’t care.

“J-jisung,” you whimper when you’re close, not once, not twice, but several times in a chant-like manner. You can only imagine how much he’ll love that, and if he wasn’t hard already, it would’ve certainly did the trick.

It feels explosive when you cum—literally. That’s when you come to the realization that you’ve squirted, and you find it a nice touch to end the video with. You send the message Good night to Jisung, making sure to attach the video before preparing for bed.

The next day when you find some free time, Jisung calls you briefly and asks you to come over, informing you that the guy’s are away and won’t be back for some hours.

Of course you’d never miss the opportunity to see him, and you were there in record-time, wearing a cute skirt you know he likes. Time is blur when he opens the door for you, and you hardly remember what happened in the time between you walking inside and him sitting you atop the kitchen counter.

He slithers his hand up your skirt, making you sigh in pleasure when he rubs you through your panties.

“Missed this so much,” Jisung murmurs, acting as though he hasn’t seen you in days. You didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’ve turned him from a virgin to a sex addict. He’s seriously a fiend for you, but you don’t mind it.

You snort. “You always miss me.”

“Yeah, well,” you can sense the disappointment in his voice, but you don’t know where it’s coming from, “I miss you more now because you kinda left me hanging last night.”

Is he talking about you not sexting him? There’s no way, you sent him a whole video. He isn’t entirely insatiable. “What do you mean? I sent you a video?”

“No, you didn’t,” when Jisung fills you stiffen in his grasp, he stops and steps back. The realization creeps up on him as quickly as it does you.

Your voice at a whisper, you quietly muse, “Then who did I send it to?”

“Me.”

You think you’re going to be sick. You don’t even have to turn your head, you can tell it’s Haechan from the sound of his voice. Still you do, your heart hammering against your chest as you look him the eyes. He’s standing by the door and you have no idea how long he’s been there, but you know it’s definitely been too long.

“Hyung,” Jisung looks equally horrified, “I thought you left.”

That’s right. Jisung did tell you everyone had left, and it surely seemed like they had. No cars outside, the apartment was quiet, and void of all life save for you and him. You had made a mistake, and fuck, so did he.

“I was asleep,” Haechan shrugs discardingly, too nonchalant to be relaxing. “Having fun here, aren’t we?”

You start, “Haechan, I—”

“Can explain? I don’t want to fucking hear it,” he’s upset, and it’s finally seeping through his calm demeanor. “When I saw that video I’m thinking I’m waking up to a sweet morning surprise from my girlfriend, ya’know, and then I hear you moaning my best friend’s fucking name,” his gaze pans to Jisung, who then practically cowers.

Fear has consumed half your body, though lust consumed the other half. You can’t help but bite your lip at the way your boyfriend looks when he’s mad, pushing your thighs together — and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“You’re fucking turned on by this, aren’t now?” He’s doing that laugh, the one that’s more out of anger than genuine amusement. It doesn’t help you at all, because damn does he sound hot doing it. “You know what? Come on. You too, Jisung.”

Haechan hooks his arms around you and forces you down the hallway before you can even think to move. You know being thrown around by him shouldn’t turn you on and especially not right now, but you can’t help the way that the aggression combined with his angry attitude has you sopping.

Jisung trails behind, feeling as though he doesn’t have much of a choice. You can tell he’s scared shitless, but you on the other hand are somewhat thrilled to see where this’ll go.

You’re practically thrown onto the bed when Haechan takes you into his room, slamming your back onto his sheets without much care. “I’m going to play with you until I’m satisfied,” he announces, not leaving room for options. “And Jisung, you’re going to watch.”

Jisung’s Adam’s apple bobs. “Watch?”

“Yes, watch. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend right under my nose and think that I’m going to let you off easy?”

Neither of you are going to be let off easy, and that’s the scariest part about it.

He doesn’t say anything from then on, only dragging down your articles of clothing or pulling them above your head at paces nothing less than excruciatingly slow. You begin to feel bare and uncovered underneath him, as though nothing could escape him and as though he can see through you more than you could him in the moment. The inscrutable expression on his face as he strips you naked makes you feel like everything you’ve hid is being stolen from confines, open and on display for him. He can see so much of you, but you can’t tell what’s running through his mind as he touches you almost everywhere but where you need him to.

The little relief he’s permitting you as he hauls his fingers around your skin isn’t enough and you at least know that he’s aware of that, deliberately fighting shy of the space between your thighs. You try and squirm, to show any possible hint of you needing more, but Haechan moves his hands to hold your hips steady. “You’re only making this worse for yourself if you keep moving,” his grip tightens until you give up and lie still, realizing that cumming is probably going to cost you more than you initially thought. “I’m in control here. Not you, not him, me. If you want to cum, then you’ll have to play by my fucking rules.”

You lift your gaze to Jisung, finding him staring back at you. The look on his face appears as unsure as it had the second you were caught, but the bulge in his pants betrays any lack of will present in him. If he could, you know that he’d be running his hands all over your body too, and you realize that that’s probably what’s going on inside his head.

You look away. “I’m sorry.”

The way Haechan snorts, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. He knows you’re only sorry because you want relief, and know the more you disobey him, the longer you’ll wait for it. “If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take what I give you like a good girl.”

The thud of your heart against your chest is loud, yelling at you when you feel him finally spread your thighs apart. You wonder if he can hear it too, the hunger and desperation in you calling for him in one steady rhythm. He moves like he’s willing to satisfy your greed, although not all at once, taking his precious time with you as he presses delicate kisses and rubs patterns onto the insides of your thighs. You whimper, but the dark, shadow-y look in his eyes as he gazes up at you shuts you up instantly.

“C-can I touch her?” Jisung asks tentatively.

Haechan doesn’t look back, doesn’t even think about it as he replies, “Not yet. You can touch her when I say you can.”

He’s dipping his head onto you again, not to say he ever really left. You moan a little when he licks at you, fighting the urge to buck your hips onto his mouth in reluctance to anger him further. You don’t know what the consequence would be if you did, and you’re fine without knowing. Still, the pace he sets is agonizing and it takes everything in you not to let temptation prevail. You know you did a bad thing. You also know that bad behavior doesn’t get rewarded, but you can’t help but feel a little selfish, wishing he’d give you a little more instead of teasing you beyond imaginable.

Eventually, the little licks do become more, gradually developing from gentleness to Haechan lapping at you with the eager movements of his tongue weakening you as he becomes unable to resist his own temptations. As you grip his hair forget there’s even anyone else in the room with you, weak in a way you had never allowed yourself to become for Jisung. This type of fragility is what he hears at night and what he saw in the video, but what he’d never be capable of having. You’ve been desperate for him too, but Haechan’s broken you beyond desperation. He’s teased you until your cunt physically aches, then filled you with pleasure that gives you whiplash.

“Hyuck, Hyuck,” your knees feel weak, and you can’t even think. All you know is that this feels good, and you fucking need him.

“You wanna cum, angel?” He coos, only moving away from your cunt for a second before he’s latching onto you again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant. “Please.”

Your stomach feels like a rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching and you know that Haechan can too, with your body quivering in his grasp, your sounds increasing in frequency and volume, and your clutch on his locks tightening without you being capable of noticing.

In short, your stomach feels like an insane rollercoaster, your gut flipping, turning, twisting, spinning—and everything in between. You can feel your orgasm approaching you quickly and you’re sure that Haechan can too, especially from how your body quivers in his grasp, your sounds increase in frequency and volume, and your grip on his locks tightens without you being capable of noticing. It’s almost as though your body is physically here, yet you’ve elevated off in heaven somewhere. But when he pulls away just before that invisible string in you can snap, you feel shoved back into torturous reality.

“No!” You whine.

“You really think you deserve to cum?” The way he looks at you feels so degrading that you can’t resist shaking a little underneath him as he hovers above you, “I’m going to edge you until you understand that this pussy is mine.”

“No, no, no,” you whimper, “please let me cum, Hyuck. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Haechan scoffs. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that? You weren’t worried about being good when you decided to be a slut for Jisung.”

The mention of Jisung gives you the rough reminder than he’s still in the room again, watching closely how pathetically you unravel before your boyfriend. You can tell that he wants to do something but he’s mentally debating it, and he shies up every time you shift your gaze over to him again. He’s more nervous now that he’s been directly mentioned, unsure of what to do and how to react in a scenario like this. He knows he shouldn’t touch you, but should he be ashamed if he were to touch himself? Should he feel guilty about the things he’s done with you when your boyfriend’s back was turned?

“I, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what, babe?” He crooks his head. “Go ahead and tell me another lie.”

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Haechan makes you feel like such a pathetic mess. You can’t even find the words to say in response to that, and he’s simply amused by how quiet you’ve gone. It was never like you expected him to placate you after finding out about everything you did behind his back, but you didn’t think it would hurt to try, hoping he would show you some type of mercy and be even a little lenient. You know that he didn’t deserve for this to happen to him and that you don’t deserve even a sliver of his mercy, but you had hoped that maybe he would still find it in him to grace you with it anyway.

When Haechan moved his lips from between your thighs, soaring up your body and re-starting his teasing journey at your neck as he peppers the skin with gentle kisses that you know only temporarily betray his attitude, you had then accepted that nothing comes without a cost, and that this was your price to pay. He played fake soft with you, treating you like you had a fragile label warning printed across you in spite of being completely aware that you wanted more, that you needed more and would never be satisfied with what little he was giving you. That was what made it more fun for him though, because it seemed like no matter what amount of pleasure he was generous enough to give you, you would take it for granted and not value it enough.

Then Haechan’s movements get fiercer as he continues to follow this torturous pattern of gradually fulfilling your desires, kissing developing into biting and sucking at your flesh in ways that make you gasp out in response, and ways he knows will leave marks on your skin. He was satisfied that Jisung had at least successfully avoided that and you couldn’t imagine what side of him would unravel if he hadn’t. Haechan liked to joke and play around at times but he was never truly all that possessive over you unless you had truly set him off, and this was one of those instances where you had.

There isn’t a single sign of reluctance in him as he marks you up more and more little by little, sucking red spots into your neck and falling steadily down the rest of your body to cover every area he could. He knows that they aren’t tattoo permanent, but not extremely temporary either. In the moment you would feel him decorating your skin, but afterwards you would look in the mirror and see how he had left you covered practically head to toe in marks. If you were bold enough to try and sneak around with Jisung again, he would be reminded that you didn’t belong to him and you never would. You’re Haechan’s, and Haechan’s only.

Jisung speaks up again, asking in the faintest, meek voice, “Can I touch myself?”

For once it manages to make Haechan pause, and ultimately causes you to whimper by instinct when the rough contact between your skin and his mouth is broken, but the moment is thankfully brief when Haechan shrugs, “Go ahead.” Then he’s continuing again.

At the same time, Jisung manifests every sign of being eager to get his clothes off, desperate to feel some sort of relief that he’s been refused recently. He had planned on breaking that spell, on having you to himself today even if it was only for a while, and honestly couldn’t and wouldn’t have predicted that this would happen. After going without being inside of you for the past couple of days on top of you ghosting him last night (whether you intended to or not), he felt starved of everything he was craving.

Touching himself felt no where as good as being inside you would, and especially after he finally had received the experience to prove it, although it’s better than nothing and he’s accepted that Haechan is likely not going to let him anywhere near your body — not until he’s done playing whatever game he calls this. You would nickname it torment, and so would Jisung.

You’re back to square one soon enough, with Haechan reappearing between your thighs once more, still acting slowly and rather teasingly although not nearly as much as he had the first time around. As you feel his mouth on you, your sounds mix with the ones that Jisung audibly makes as he strokes himself to the sight, practically bouncing off of the walls. “Be quiet,” Haechan whispers momentarily, and you immediately frown. You instantly feel the urge to question why he suddenly has a problem with you making noise, but you figured it would be best to fight against them. If you thought about it, lacking self-control is what landed you in this particular situation in the first place.

In your attempt to hold back any sound, you bite the walls of your cheek. He has you right there on the edge again, at the point where it’s hardest for you to keep quiet, but you manage to comply with his rules. It’s relaxing your body that feels impossible, especially when he’s pushing the right buttons. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your senses feel so heightened that you could almost cry. You’re right there, so close, your orgasm practically in arm’s reach—yet then he torturously snatches it all away once more. This time you do cry, however for an entirely different reason than you anticipated. “Haechan, please let me cum. I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!” you’re past the point of caring that Jisung’s seeing you like this, all capability of feeling embarrassment and shame leaving you as you’re filled to the brim with nothing but denial and want. “Please.”

Swiping his thumb over your eyes, he coos mockingly, “Aw, did you wanna cum? Do you think you deserve it?”

You’re nodding your head impatiently, unable to stop the trail of tears that stream down your cheeks. “I’ve been—I’ve been good, Hyuck. I did everything you told me to do.”

Haechan seemed to debate the decision of his next move in his head, going back and forth with himself a couple of times before ultimately deciding he would he allow you a deal. “Here’s the deal: I’m gonna fuck you, and you better not make a sound unless I tell you to. If you don’t cum by the time that I do, then you won’t cum at all. Got it?”

Again, you nodded fervently, sealing your lips shut in fear of messing up your opportunity to cum before you ever really got the chance if you opened your mouth. Haechan stripped himself of his clothes in what felt like seconds, throwing them onto the floor to be concerned over another time. He had truthfully wanted to be inside you when he saw that video you’d accidentally sent him, just to prove to you that no one could ever make you feel as good as he could. He had a particular motive in not letting Jisung touch you, too. He was punishing not only you, but the both of you, and he wanted Jisung to see that no matter how much you crawled to him, you were Haechan’s. You belonged to him entirely, and he could please you like no other. It wouldn’t matter how good he was because Haechan was better, and with every second that passed, he proved it time and time again, relentlessly.

So when Haechan thrusts inside you, there’s no doubt that Jisung feels jealous. It’s his own fault for messing with someone who didn’t belong to him, but he’s attached to you in a way that he doesn’t think he could be with anybody else.

“Shit, babe,” he slides in easily, both from the fact that you’ve been dangerously aroused since the moment he grabbed you and the fact that he’s edged you twice already.

You had almost whimpered at the feeling of him gliding inside your cunt, but then you remembered the terms of your agreement and settled with digging your teeth into your bottom lip with a force slightly dangerous. In this moment, you’re content. All you had wanted was to be filled and Haechan does so greatly, shoving his girth inside you as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. With how much he had been edging you, you never really realized how much his own need was growing.

“Fucking slut,” Haechan growls, watching how eagerly you take him. You look like such a mess, cheeks stained with tears, skin covered in marks, and your body practically shaking in response to the pleasure. “Needed dick so bad you fuck my friend behind my back?”

When you don’t reply, his palm lands on your ass, causing you to barely hold in a moan. “That was a question, baby.”

“I—‘m sorry,” is all you can bring yourself to say. There’s no use in coming up with a better response, you already know there’s no words you could use that would placate him.

“I didn’t fucking ask if you were sorry though, did I?” he smacks your ass once more, and this time you’re unable to contain the loud yelp that tears from between your lips. “And I told you to shut the hell up. But I know you can’t think with nothing but that greedy fucking pussy.”

You’re then distracted by the ever so inviting sounds of Jisung’s moans the second they ripple through the air, instantly shifting your gaze towards him and observing how hot he looks as he gets himself off to this, to you, his hair in front of his face and his lips parted agape. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, eyes squeezing shut in a deepening moan as he strokes himself with his palm. If you were in your full mind, you would have realized that you’re only further proving your boyfriend’s point, however you just can’t help but still want the both of them—together.

Haechan slows his movements until he stops entirely, then grips your chin, slightly rough yet you display no sign of disliking it. In fact, it’s probably worse how much you enjoy him manhandling you. You’re so close to whimpering when he goes still, hardly remaining silent and although he doesn’t mention it, you know he could tell. “Look at me, not him. You’re fucking mine,” he enunciates the single syllable with one sharp, deep thrust. “This pussy is mine,” he repeats the motion again, rocking your body forward and nearly forcing a moan from you, “now tell me who you belong to.”

Weakly, you answer, “Y-you.”

It’s clear that Haechan isn’t moving again until you’ve complied, and he seems unsatisfied by your response. Your thoughts are confirmed when he instead smacks your thigh, resulting in tears to prick your eyes once more.

“Not satisfied. Try again.”

“You, Hyuck, f-fuck,” you sound weakened and broken, attempting to speak through your sobbing, “I’m yours, I belong to you! Only you. N-no one—no one but you.”

That seems to do the trick, because he finally re-starts thrusting into you habitually, temporarily making your vision go black when he strikes a particular, sweet spot. There’s no one word that perfectly captures how he feels inside you, and you wouldn’t even bother to try and think of one. Hell, you’re beyond the point of thinking. You would’ve been embarrassed by how dumb you’d gone at this point, unable to comprehend how loud you’re being and that you’re essentially breaking one of the terms of your deal. Haechan’s in too deep to stop now though, wanting to feel how you perfectly take every inch of him, and instead comes up with a better solution.

“Jisung, come—s-shit—come fuck her throat,” Haechan barely manages to grunt out, his own eyes closing firmly and his moans getting louder with every passing moment. “I know that’ll make a slut like her shut the fuck up.”

At first the command takes him by surprise, though then Jisung’s rushing over to fuck your throat without needing to be told twice. He’s a little unsure if you had even registered the words that left your boyfriend’s mouth, however he can’t find it within him to stop once he slips into your mouth. He can’t stop the moan that tumbles from between his own when he feels your mouth around him, neither, the warm sensation already feeling levels bettet than his palms. It’s then that he realizes you’d never sucked him off before, that it had always been him giving head and you on the receiving end—not that he minded. He loves giving you head and watching the way your body reacts to his touch. However he discovers that he also likes the way your mouth feels.

He’s dreamed about this, and the reality is so much better than the expectations. You’d seemed a little lost when you noticed him in your mouth, but you sucked anyways, assuming Haechan had finally allowed interaction between the both of you and being glad about it. You also feel bad that he had been abandoned on his own for so long, unable to do much but watch, and wanted to please him to the best of your ability. The look on his face is hard to concentrate on when your boyfriend’s simultaneously fucking into you relentlessly, but the glimpses of it that you do manage to catch tell you that you’re most likely doing a great and successful job.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” Jisung moans, practically feeling his whole body tingle.

You’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling of having two dicks in you, although it’s clear as day that he isn’t going to last extremely long, especially considering that he had already been getting himself off beforehand. You listen to his deep groans while simultaneously watching the way Haechan’s face twists and scrunches with pleasure, the three of your sounds—although yours muffled—mixing together as one.

“G-gonna cu—f-fuck,” Jisung grunts, unable to finish his sentence before he’s filling your mouth with his cum, his eyes firmly closed as he murmurs a set of curses. He pulls away when he’s finished, watching with awe as you swallow as much as you can, and admiring the way you look as whatever you couldn’t take in your mouth dripped down and decorated your chin.

There’s something about the way you look at him that honestly makes him feel like he could cum again right then, right there.

Deciding slapping your ass isn’t effective enough, Haechan slaps your cunt to grab your attention, not caring that you whimper from the unexpected impact and almost tempted to do it again because of how sweet you sound. “Focus on me,” he commands, and you comply. “You close?”

Forgetting about what had happened earlier, you simply nod in response, much to his dissatisfaction.

Haechan slapped your cunt again, “It’s like you never learn, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yeah, I’m close,” it’s written all over your face, you know he’s only asking for a chance to torment you some more, “can I—can I cum?”

“S-shit, cum for me babe. You better do it before I do,” he says, reminding you that you wouldn’t be allowed to cum if you didn’t by the time that he had. He’s just as close as you were, moaning needily, his grip on your waist tightening almost bruisingly. His thrusts get deeper yet they aren’t as precise as they were initially.

Whatever happens in the next couple of moments you don’t process, save for your orgasm and the feeling of Haechan’s cum filling you to the brim, warm and thick. He stops moving eventually, slowing the way he rocks into your hips until he pauses completely. When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum drips from your cunt, unable to hide the proud smile developing on his face. He knows you like it too, recalling vividly all the times you’ve begged for him to cum in you.

He scoops you into his arms afterwards, kissing your neck gently again, making you giggle when he avoids your mouth for obvious reasons. “You okay? Too rough?”

You shake your head. “I’m good.” He’s never too rough on you.

Jisung clears his throat from beside you, making you both shift your gaze to him. “So, um,” he begins awkwardly, “what now?”

The smirk on Haechan’s face is sinister, and you know whatever he’s thinking in his head can mean zero good, but a part of you is excited for it anyways. “We’re not done here,” he says plainly, then adds, “since you wanted it so bad, do you think you can take two dicks for us, y/n?”

You have no idea, but you guess you were about to find out.

When you slowly nodded in confirmation, you swear you saw Jisung eyes twinkle a little in excitement. “Can we record it?”

Haechan shrugs. “Is that okay with you, babe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply, thrilled by the idea. If this was the last time you’d ever be with the two of them at once, then you wanted to be able to remember it vividly, and there was no better way than recording.

Your boyfriend grabs his phone from the nightstand, grinning a little devilishly. “Are you ready?” When you nodded, he pressed record and immediately brought the camera to your face, still sticky with cum.

“Smile for the camera, baby.”

#nct dream smut #jisung smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #park jisung smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct

948 notes · View notes

embrosegraves · 6 months

Text

𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕆𝕦𝕣 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤

Oscar Piastri x Reader “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” “You can’t tell people that we’re engaged like that.”

Reader and Oscar announce their engagement on social media through a hilarious (for them) prank.

I really hope this turns out okay, I've never done a smau before :D

instagram.com

Liked by yourBff, mickshumacher and 7,274,653 others

youruser We move on…

view all comments

yourBff that’s it! I’m taking you on a trip far away. → youruser ily

user wait what user where’s oscar? where’d he go? user haha, i’m scared. f1wags ‘we move on’ what dOES THAT MEAN f1wags im gonna lose me job 😭😭

Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 6,934,627 others

oscarpiastri Moving on…

view all comments

landonorris surely start a jpg → oscarpiastri no

user where is mother? user mother’s not even in the like nooooo user oh no. they have matching captions f1wags istg Oscar if you and mother broke up

logansargeant ayo? → liked by oscarpiastri

imessage

instagram.com

Liked by yourBff, mickshumacher and 7,274,653 others

youruser it’s been emotional

view all comments

landonorris answer my texts → youruser what texts bro? they’re all literally just “???”

user mother is making music at the cost of not dating oscar 😭😭 f1wags queen are you /j or /srs i NEED to know user no please not like this

logansargeant our boy is sorry, please put him out of his misery → youruser our boy? Far as i’m concerned, we don’t share a boy

user everyday I am reminded of everything wrong in the world user is no one paying attention to the grid’s comments? → user they’re as desperate as we are for info 😭 → user and logan’s comment? What do you mean you don’t share a boy?!?

Liked by landonorris, NicolePiastri and 6,934,627 others

oscarpiastri A lot of emotions this week

view all comments

landonorris Oscar please answer my texts → oscarpiastri the only thing you’ve sent me is ?????

user AGAIN WITH THE MATCHING CAPTIONS f1wags Hahaha Oscar I’m getting really scared now hahahaha user I’ve known not a single day of peace since Y/n’s first post

NicolePiastri what did you do Osc? → user NOT EVEN MAMA PIASTRI KNEW → user noooooooooooooooooooo

user hey god? I am NOT one of your strongest soldiers user guys neither of them have specified which emotions they’re feeling → user please don’t give me hope → user I’m too far in to believe that they’re happy 😭😭😭

imessage

instagram.com

Liked by youruser, oscarpiastri and 8,428,783 others

NicolePiastri Well this answers my question

view all comments

landonorris ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! → youruser this is so funny to me → oscarpiastri hehehehehehe

user EVERYONE CALLED ME CRAZY BUT I WAS RIGHT f1wags I can sleep easy now :’D user they’re laughing. WE SUFFERED AND THEY’RE LAUGHING

logansargeant okay, without me? rude. → youruser oh please, you would’ve spilt at first chance → logansargeant i don’t like you

user WARRRRR ISSSS OVERRRRRRRR user everyone say thank you Mama Piastri → user THANK YOU MAMA PIASTRI → user THANK YOU MAMA PIASTRI → youruser Thank you Mum ❤️😁 → oscarpiastri Thank you Mum ❤️ → NicolePiastri You’re welcome kids

AHHHH I hope you enjoyed! first time ever doing a social media au si I'm crossing my fingers that this was good 🤞

Let me know what you think, I might make some more depending on feedback but who knows

#formula 1 x you #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar pastry #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri smau #reader is besties with logan sargeant bc i said so #let me know if you liked this!#i'm so nervous about posting this for some reason #prolly my need to please people lmao

2K notes · View notes

rafeysdoll · 21 days

Text

when you want space from rafe cameron.. ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

authors note: request can be found here. this prompt gave me major situationship with season two rafe. he’s trying so hard to put on his best charm, holding back his darker side cause he so desperately wants you to lock in with him— so when you suddenly ask for space he thinks he’s blown it and completely panics. freaking out at reader. if you enjoy this please reblog with feedback or maybe drop a follow/ like!

“s-so youre done with me? wanna break this off? that’s what all this is about?” rafe asks, head tilting to the side as he squints his eyes, trying to figure you out. he breathes deeply through flared nostrils, holding back a meltdown. “what? nooo, papi, don’t say that.” you speak calmly, approaching him and placing your newly manicured hands on his chest, rubbing him softly. “i don’t want that, that’s not what i’m saying.” you correct, getting on your tippy toes and pressing a small, chaste kiss on his lips, leaving behind glittery gloss on his lips.

he looks up at the ceiling, unable to look at you. he chews at the inside of his cheek, getting frustrated. he didn’t understand. “then why, are you asking for space?!” he questions, his voice raising lightly.

you sigh, fighting the urge to start biting your nails— a nervous habit rafe made you quit. well, at least when he was around. which, although you loved him and his company more than anything, seemed to be a lot. “papi, jus’.. calm down please.” you ask as softly as possible. “its.. i jus’ want.. to be alone for the next couple days, wanna have some time to miss you is all.” you give him a nice smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as sign of reassurance that everything was fine between you two.

“a-alone?” he whispers, looking down at you. “mhm, we’ve been together everyday for the past week, and i’m happy about that really i am, papi. ‘ts been so fun, but i’m just..” you pause, trying to find the right words.

“kinda.. burnt out. not that being with you burns me out, it doesn’t papi, it’s just a me thing—“ “oh, cmonnn baby. gonna say ‘it’s me not you’ situation now? i don’t buy that shit. you’re lying to my fuckin’ face ma.” he cuts you off, your lips now being tugged into a deep frown as he takes a few steps backwards from you, crossing his arms and turning around to give you his back.

“papi, jus’ listen to me!” you whine, quickly trailing behind him, almost tripping over your pink mary jane’s. “it’s not you, i promise it isn’t!” you could feel your vision blurring as tears started collecting in your eyes. you bat your wispy eyelashes, trying to control the tears from falling. “i-i know it sounds cliche to say it like that but,” you bite your lip, fighting a whimper.

“i jus’ wanna take a few self care days—“ again, he cuts you off. “you don’t think i can do that for you? that what you’re trying to say?” you clench your fist, stomping your foot against the floor. you were starting to get overwhelmed, he just wasn’t listening.

“i didn’t say that!” you cry, your nose starting to twitch. “i know you can take care of me, and i love that you do but i jus’ wanna do it myself! for myself!” you whine, feeling stuck, laying your head on rafe’s chest. it was silly almost, the way you were seeking comfort from the man who was getting you all worked up in the first place.

“i still like you rafey, i really do. i jus’ wanna be by myself, doesn’t mean we won’t see each other ever again.” you prompt, trying to rub your cheek against his polo. “please understand, papi. you told me you’d give me anything i want, remember? what if i want a weekend to myself, can’t i have that?” you request, looking up to bat your little lashes to him, trying your hardest to persuade him.

you could see the exact moment rafe gives in as he bites his lips and runs his hand through his locks. “i.. i guess i understand. you need space.. you wanna miss me and shit. i get it now.” he admits, stroking your cheek. “but you gotta promise you’ll come back to me first thing monday, alright ma?”

you give him a cheeky smile, nodding. “course, papi.”

985 notes · View notes

etfrin · 2 months

Text

— ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ? | ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ

✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | subby! Spencer, fem! Reader, dubcon (Spencer accidentally eats edible chocolate), this is before Spencer gets addicted to drugs, riding, dry humping, praise kink if you squint, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks) | lmk if I forgot anything

✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Spencer eats edible and now he's all needy :(( good thing you're here!

✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1632 words

✧— ᴀ/ɴ: hope you guys like this! please reblog and give feedback, thank you!

「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」

When Spencer digs up chocolate from your fridge, he knows you wouldn't mind if he ate some. He had permission to eat your food beforehand so he doesn't think much about it. Spencer eats the chocolate as an appetizer, knowing that you'll cook dinner for the both of them when you're back.

However as he waited for you on the couch, his mouth was beginning to dry up. His heart was racing, and his body was so hot he was sweating through his clothes. His muscles were relaxed, his mind feeling a certain high which felt missing without you.

Spencer licked his dry lips, trying to focus on something, anything but his mind was racing. He couldn't figure out what was happening with his scrambled mind. He knew something was wrong with the chocolate. He just couldn't figure out exactly what it was. He knew what it was-

But he couldn't spare a thought that wasn't about you right now. He needed you here. A knock at the door catches his attention. He quickly walks to open it.

It reveals you.

Perfect.

Spencer doesn't understand his next actions, it was purely out of his control. He pulls you in, backing you up to the door. He takes in your scent, it was his favorite perfume. “Need you,” he gasps out, as his lips are mere inches away from yours.

You giggled, not thinking anything was wrong. You throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in, making him press his body against yours. “You have me, Dr. Reid,” you tease.

Spencer whines before you catch his lips with yours. His kisses are sloppier, wet, fucking filthy which was so unlike Spencer who was much sweeter when he kisses. You kissed him back the same. Your tongue caresses his tongue, and you taste him, humming from the taste of chocolate on his tongue. Both of you refuse to break the kiss. That is until Spencer nips your lower lip, hard, making you gasp and pull back.

“Sorry,” he gasps, trying to pull you back again,

“You're like air to me.”

Your tongue licks over the area he bit. “Yeah, but be a bit gentle, okay?” You said to him, as you changed your position with him. You were now pressing him onto the door. You pressed wet kisses to his neck. “What's got you so worked up, Spence?” You whispered near his ear, you felt him shiver.

“I don't know,” he groans, “I want you. I can't think right now, I need you.”

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

You take his hand, guiding him to the couch and you make him sit down. You get on his lap, your hands working to unbutton his shirt. Meanwhile, your lips were attached to his neck, and you sucked his skin, trying to mark the desperate man.

“You're hot,” you noticed, “Are you getting sick?”

“No, no, no,” Spencer whines, taking both of your hands in his and placing them on either side of his cheek. “I am fine,” he murmurs, looking at you with red, puppy eyes. “Don't stop.”

The way he's being so desperate is such a turn-on for you, that you don't question yourself further. You press a wet kiss to his lips and place his shirt on the table. Your lips suck his bottom lip, your teeth digging into the flesh softly.

You pull at it, before letting it go. Spencer moans your name, his hips bucking up. He was hard. He had already ruined his pants with pre-cum. You get off his lap to take off your clothes. Leaving them on the floor as you regain your previous position with him.

Your panties and bra were on, but not for much longer. Spencer unhooks your bra as you are engaged in a messy kiss with him. He groans into your mouth as his hands begin to play with your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He breaks the kiss, he places his lips on your shoulder. He sucks and bites, desperate, wet and needy.

You let him, sometimes gasping from how accidentally hard his teeth were digging into your flesh. He couldn't pace himself. Your nails scratch at his scalp, trying to calm him down.

You had never seen a man so desperate for your touch before. Normally he was composed, this was a one-hundred-degree difference. “Spencer,” you whimper, as he gives you a hard bite on your neck. These will form a hickey you knew no amount of makeup could hide.

He whispered an apology you're sure he doesn't mean. His hands are on your hips, encouraging you to grind on his lap. Your panties are soaked, and you follow his lead for once. You, yourself getting ruined by his touch. Unable to think of anything except pleasure.

He helps you grind your clothed pussy against his bulge. “Spencer,” you moan, as both of you look down to see the way your arousal is ruining his pants. You get faster, your clit getting rubbed against the material of your panties. It was pure bliss as Spencer's lips’ caught your nipple in his mouth. He sucks, his tongue swirling around the pebble, making it hard with his touch.

“That's it, baby,” you moan, getting faster as grind against him, your cunt was clenching around nothing and both of you were so worked up. He moans your name in answer. You can feel his cock twitch underneath you, a telltale sign that he was close.

Oh, no, fuck no. As much as it was hot to make your lover cum in his pants, you wanted him inside of you. And you knew he would feel the same. So you stopped, ignoring the way Spencer complains. You hush him.

You slide aside your panties, revealing your glistening cunt. You don't miss the way his breath hitches as he sees your pretty pussy. “That's why patience is a virtue,” you tsked. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, your hand on his chest, pressing him down to the couch. With your other hand, you unbutton his pants.

You pulled his cock out, your hand stroking his length. Your thumb caressing his slit, he was oozing milky white pre-cum. You gathered some on your fingers and licked your digits to taste him. You make sure his eyes are on you as you whisper,

“Delicious.”

“Now be a good boy, Spence,” you smirked.

You pressed his cockhead near your entrance, letting it slip in slowly. You close your eyes as you feel your walls stretch, and you whimper, taking him without any prep was a delightful pain. “Careful,” he gasps, his eyes rolling back from the pleasure of being surrounded by your wet, tight walls.

You moan his name as his cockhead was pressed against your spongy spot. You had taken him to the hilt, you began to rock your hips slowly. Spencer couldn't focus on anything, his hands going all over from your thighs to your ass. He would occasionally knead your soft flesh and sometimes his nails would dig in harshly. It was an accident and every time he would whisper a sorry.

“So good,” he gasps out.

“I know,” you whispered, as you began to ride him faster, you ignored the pain in your muscles. The pleasure of it all fuels your stamina. You needed him to cum inside of your cunt, you can always make him return the favor later. Right now, your pretty boy was your priority. Not your own pleasure.

You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching his lips part in pleasure. You lean down, your tongue sneaks between the gap and you meet his tongue for a sloppy kiss. Your hips slow down, your muscles thanking you for it.

Spencer whines, his hips bucking in, chasing the pleasure.

“Please,” he whispered, “make me cum.”

“I will, baby,” you promised, as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Your hand snakes in between both of your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. You gasped as your thumb pressed the swollen bud. Your cunt immediately begins to tighten around him making him cry out, his hips smacking with yours. It ruins the pace you built it, but it's fine.

Spence was chasing his high and you let him. With each thrust of his, his cockhead brushed against your g-spot and as your thumb ran quick, rough circles around your pearl, you can feel the coil tightening in your stomach the same way your cunt was tight around Spencer.

“Close!” Spencer warns.

“Me too,” you moan, throwing your head back, your back arching as your thumb gets faster. A particular thrust of his causes your eyes to widen as sudden jolts of pleasure overwhelm you.

You begin to cum, your pussy milking him with the way it's spasming around his length. Spencer also releases with a moan of your name, filling you up with his hot cum.

Both of you catch your breath. Spencer was feeling so fucking tired now. But you force him into a shower, knowing he would prefer that. You even had to drag the man to the bed, kissing his forehead as you pulled the sheets over his body.

“Thank you,” he murmured, “I love you, sweetheart.”

You turn off the lights and lay down beside him, you go closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your orbit. “I love you too,” you whispered.

It wasn't until the next morning that Reid and you found out why exactly he had acted so desperate. You had a good laugh while Spencer was simply embarrassed.

“I like you all pathetic, baby,” you assure him as Spencer tries to apologize, “I love it when you're needy.”

However, you make sure not to keep those chocolates in your fridge ever again.

698 notes · View notes

whoxeology · 2 months

Text

⛧☾༺♰ CABIN FUN ♰༻☽⛧

WARNINGS: NFSW 18+, use of pet name; bunny, smut, Oral (F receiving) very much so not canonically accurate, not proofread, bit of Perv!Luke at the end.

W.C: 2.1k

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of PJO is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

BASED OFF OF THIS REQUEST

A/N: I feel like this is so off from the request but I feel like corruption kinks are often written to make the reader similar to the young, which I did not want to be how I wrote it so I give you whatever this is

ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT SO PLEASE BE KIND, MDNI, AND FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME

"Hey Lukey," You said as you heard your cabin door open. You knew it was him he was the only one to enter the cabin at this time which also happened to be when your cabinmates left to sneak out of camp. He always came in asking to borrow something from you sometimes it was tweezers for Annabeth or his shield that he let you borrow. "What did you need now," you asked slightly giggling.

"Uh actually nothing I just wanted to see you," Luke said as he looked at you his hands fidgeting with them nervously. He was dressed in his typical cargo pants and orange camp tee looking overdressed compared to your crop top and sleeping shorts.

"Really? Why?" You tilt your head to the side confusion written across your face. You and Luke obviously were friends you guys just weren't as close as the rest of the group. Mainly due to your huge crush on Luke making you act like a hermit when it's just you and him alone.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," he said sitting on your bed and patting the spot next to him for you to sit on.

"Oh, about what?" you said going to sit next to him as soon as he asked you to. His cold hand finds a way onto your exposed knee the cold rings sending a shiver up your spine that Luke did not miss.

You were thoughtless at the feel of his calloused hands on your smooth skin. Eyes glued on his hand as his thumb rubbed the top of your knee. "Annabeth might've let slip that you have a crush on me." He said head tilted to the side to see your face better really wanting to see your reaction. As soon as those words left his mouth your jaw dropped a soft gasp leaving your plump lips. A pit formed in your stomach as you continued to stare at his hand scared to make eye contact with him. Tears formed in your eyes you knew why he was being so touchy now he was going to reject you it all made sense now.

"Hey bunny look at me," He said his other hand coming up from his side to grab your chin, making you look at him. His puppy dog eyes met your wet ones, making more tears fall decorating your pretty face. Luke would never tell another living soul this but he liked seeing you cry, to know he was the cause of it and not some other punk in camp.

"Luke I am so sorr-."

The start of your ramble was cut short by Luke's lips smashing into yours. He could taste the saltiness from your tears on your lips making him kiss you harder. Once the shock faded from you you kissed him back just as hard. The kiss started as hunger but was now growing into desperation and need. The hand that was once on top of your knee slipped under it to help you climb onto his lap. He needs you closer to him, his hand slipping from your chin to the back of your neck pulling you close into the kiss.

His back is flat against your bed as you lean over him, grinding yourself into him. You can feel all of him under you, his bulge rubbing against your core with every move.

"Luke wait," you mumble into his lips pulling away slightly to look him in the face.

Luke gave a low hum in response, his hips slightly bucking up against yours, his cock throbbing inside of his pants. His hands rested on your hips now guiding you in a swaying motion on him.

"I've never done this before." You say breathlessly still moving your hips against his, the feeling sending butterflies into the lower pits of your stomach. The feeling of his dick twitching against you made a gasp slip past your lips.

"Oh bunny," He says in a whining voice. He suddenly flips you over so that you are now under him. You are now flat on your back as he lays between your legs, his bulge more prominent against his cargo pants. "Im going to make you feel real good baby, do you trust me?'"

In the moment all you can do is nod your head frantically, feeling his against you with such pressure making you need him more. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck placing light kisses under your ear.

"I need you to use your words bunny," he whispers into your ear, pulling a breathy whine from you.

"Please," you say tilting your head to the side to give him more space. He kissed down your neck until he got to a soft spot on your jugular that made you whine. He smirked into your neck before suckling at the spot, the dark purple mark forming on your skin. "You look so pretty under me," He mumbles into your neck as he continues to leave marks all over your neck.

His slightly chapped lips went from your neck to your chest, drawing whines from you. One of his hands trailed up your hips tickling your side as he went under your crop top, his cold hands sending shivers down your spine. He pulled your top over your chest, the cool air making your bare nipples pebble. Feeling exposed at the sudden attention on your boobs your hands go to cover them, Luke's other hand came up pinning your own hand to the side of your head.

"Don't hide yourself from me bunny," He groaned into your chest, attaching his lips to one of your nipples. The sudden warmth of his mouth and the swirl of his tongue draw moans from your mouth. He does the same to your other boob, before moving lower. His hot mouth trailed kisses from your breast to the top of your shorts, you a withering mess under him the whole time his kisses setting your skin on fire. He sat back onto his knees before pulling you by yours to the edge of the bed, a yelp escaping you from the sudden roughness. His hands impatiently made their way under your hips, pulling down your sleeping shorts with such determination it made you moan.

"god am I going to be the first to see your pretty pussy," He said in a teasing tone, thumb lightly rubbing over your clit through your underwear. "Hmm, all this for me pretty girl."

"Yes Luke all for you," you whine hips bucking against his hand, need more desperately. Luke sped his pace up his thumb rubbing your clit in tighter circles, your core clenched on nothing the butterflies in your lower stomach fluttering around even more.

Luke moved his thumb and hooked his fingers on the side of your underwear, asking you to pick your hips up to make the process easier. A low moan emitted from the back of Luke's throat when he finally saw your pussy and she was indeed pretty. He couldn't hold back you were so wet and ready for him. Wasting no time he wrapped his arms around your legs and shoved his face straight into your cunt, tongue parting your folds and his lips attaching to your clit sucking on the bud.

"Fuck Luke," You arch your back in an unexpecting manner not expecting him to basically throw himself in between your thighs. Your hands immediately flew to his brown curls, wrapping your fingers messily in his hair.

Luke's tongue fucked your tight cunt lapping up your juices while the tip of his straight nose rubbed against your clit, his hand trailing up to massage your breast the callouses adding to the pleasure. The sound coming from your glossy pink lips made Luke press harder onto your pussy, hands shaking as you ran them through Lukes’s curly hair

“Feels good bunny?” he mumbles lips going back to your clit as his fingers ghosted over the tops of your thigh, so close to your aching hole.

“So good lukey” you whine hips bucking up desperately trying to relieve the aggressive butterflies from your belly. Tears started to pool in your eyes you didn’t know what to ask for but knew you needed it now. "Please please plea-." “Shhh pretty girl,” Luke chuckled before pulling himself up from in between your legs, his middle finger slipping into your cunt as he kissed you, swallowing your moans. His long fingers find your spongy part, curling his fingers to hit that spot over and over again your backing arching up painfully in pleasure.

" I got you bunny," Luke mumbled his ring finger pushing in beside his middle, you groaned out at the sudden feeling of fullness. He leaned his body onto yours, the feeling of his rough clothing on your soft skin driving you up the walls.

He pumped his fingers in a come hither motion hitting your walls clenching down on his fingers, his lips roughly finding their home on yours. Your stomach tightened as his fingers pumped faster, the once feeling of butterflies turning into a tightening ache deep in your stomach. Feeling wetter and looser than before he managed to slip in his pointer finger, the fullness returning some more with each finger he added.

"Luke my stomach feels funny is that norm-"

"You can take it bunny," he said cutting your question off while leaning his forehead against yours, his breathing much tamer compared to your high-pitched whines and moans. "it'll be worth it," he adds leaving knowing exactly how your feeling, he placed smaller hickeys across your boobs, fingers pumping at a much rougher pace now.

The high-pitched moans that fell from your plump lips were borderline sinful and pornographic, Luke's dick twitching at every sound you made. Your hips bucked into his palm as he continued to finger you drawing you to the brink of cumming.

"OH MY GOD." You shouted as you felt the pressure in your stomach replaced with a dropping feeling, the feeling making your thighs shake as you tried to close your legs around Luke's hand the feeling of his fingers still pumping making you shake more. Overstimulated and exhausted you push at Luke's hand, he pumps his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. The sudden loss of his fingers pulls a whine from you, suddenly feeling empty as your juices flow out your cunt.

"No god just me," Luke's stupid grin spread across his face as he licked your juices off his fingers, getting closer to you he kissed your forehead before getting up to grab a towel from the restroom.

You laughed so hard you felt more cum gush out from you your fits of laughter suddenly cut short, and you laid still on your bed waiting for Luke scared of making a bigger mess on your bed. Luke had come back to see you stiff as a board and started his stupid laughter up again. He leaned over you helping you lift your leg up as he gently used the hand towel to clean you up, you shuddered at the towel going over your sensitive clit. Luke had thrown the towel in your hamper and gotten you new underwear and a shirt for you to change into, your heart swelling with love as you looked at him he looked so domesticated.

"What about you," You say as you slip your clothes on, obviously referring to his bulge, which is still very noticeable.

"Don't worry about me, I got it," He said winking at me as he changed the sheet on your bed, moving at a speed that left you baffled not even you moved that efficiently when it came to changing sheets. After he finished making your bed he had you crawl in so that he could tuck you in.

"You're leaving?" you say sadness in your voice, a weird feeling settling in your chest. "Not my choice bunny if I stay I'm going to end up balls deep in you then you're roommates might walk in and that's a whole other issue I'm not ready to solve," He laughed to himself as a dark blush cover your cheeks, he kissed you deeply his large hand resting on your check almost covering your whole face.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Your question voice came out in a whine, your hand was over his not wanting him to let go yet.

"I'll see you tomorrow bunny," he said kissing you again before finally getting up to leave.

Quickly succumbing to your sleepiness you were fast asleep a few minutes after Luke had left, unbeknown to you your soiled panties left along with him. His extremely late shower took extra long as he pictured your moans in his ears as he got off in his fist panties wrapped tightly in hand.

424 notes · View notes

run2gyuz · 4 months

Text

★ 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮'𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 ★

Soft dom!Soobin x fem!reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Soft dom! Soobin, A LOT of teasing, Use of pull out method (don't be silly, wrap your willy!)

𝘼/𝙉: This is my first piece pls give feedback!

Watch this video before as I'm writing this in continuation ( with permision from oc - it's sfw! )

𝙬𝙘: 1687

MINORS DNI

"Baby hurry please," Soobins whiny voice could be heard through your phone as, no longer than 2 minutes into your 15 minute car drive, he called you groaning saying he was too hard and how he just couldn't wait.

"Soobin I am about to turn down your road you're so impatient!" You heard the boy groan again, once more complaining that you were taking too long. As you finally arrived at his apartment block you were met with his figure outside the door. His body wore a pair of checked bottoms and a black compression shirt, something he defiantly wore to rile you up, and as you stepped out of your car his lean body strode towards you.

"You really couldn't wait till I came upstairs?" The boy whined yet again, nuzzling his head into your neck as he not so subtly pressed his hard cock into your hips. You placed your hand in his hair, gently tugging it at an attempt to pull him away from you, but it only lead to him letting out a deep groan as you felt him grow harder against you. "Please," he groaned in your ear, "Please can I just fuck you, I need you baby please,". You pushed him away from you slightly so you could look the boy in the eye. "Let us go upstairs okay? Then you can do whatever you want to me, just not here Soobin, we're in a parking lot." The boy's eyes lit up at your words and he quickly turned towards the apartment block.

As soon as the door of his home locked you were pressed against it, quickly followed with Soobins lips to yours, followed by his hand to your boobs, followed with his groin to your stomach, all in a wild attempt to get what he wanted as fast as possible. You.

After a minute or so you pushed away the desperate boy who, at that moment, was hardly compliant with any task that didn't involve him gaining any sexual release. "Baby please, I just want you," You let out a small laugh at the boys desperate behaviour before quickly regaining your composure and setting him straight. "Don't you think we should talk about what happened?" The boy straightened up slightly, before leaning forward and tilting your chin up to meet his face. "Baby, I thought we made up? If you want to keep talking about it that's okay but I thought you wanted me to make it up to you?" You nodded at his words before informing him that you just want to make sure you're on the same page, "We are baby, I should have told you when it happened and I definitely will next time but I thought it was you and only kissed her neck. Are we okay?" You nodded at the boy, glad to be on the same wavelength about everything, before grabbing the back of his nape and pulling him down to kiss you.

The boy took you into his sitting room and sat on his couch, pulling you on top of him in a swift motion. The boy unbuttoned your top, pulling it slowly off of your back, all the while maintaining to thoroughly explore your mouth with his tongue. The boys slightly calloused hands wandered to your back, undoing your bra in record time, then pulling down your straps to let the piece of material meet your shirt on the floor beneath you. "Thought I told you not to wear anything hun,", Soobin whispered as he pulled away from the kiss and groaned loudly at the sight of your chest, which you then squirmed to cover from his view. The tall boy noticed this, quickly grabbing your hands and pulling them away. He looked into your eyes and let out a whisper, "You're so beautiful,". You smiled at the boy and leaned into kiss him once more. He gladly complied, letting his hands fall to your chest, harshly grabbing your left boob, grazing your nipple in the process, which left you letting out a moan at the sensation, which you then quickly tried to cover up. "I want to hear you pretty girl, don't hide your noises from me,”

After a while of kissing and Soobin grabbing your ass and tits you eventually found yourself underneath the boy, laying on his couch. He started to pepper kisses down your neck finding your sweet spot and sucking harshly to create eventual marks, Soobin loved to mark you, he couldn't possibly have anyone thinking you were up for grabs, no no, you were his. The boys lips eased their way down you, pressing kisses to your heated body ever so often. Eventually the boy found himself in front of your, now aching, core. He lent towards you slowly and you could feel his hot breath fan against your cunt, whining out a, "Please Soobin, don't tease," . The boy groaned at your sounds and pulled you back up to sit on his lap.

"What do you want baby, do you want me to eat you out?" You squirmed in his lap, letting out a groan from the lack of friction, "or, do you want me to finger fuck you?" As he said this you felt his thick fingers prodding at your entrance through your panties. "Or you can ride my thigh, or my abs, or," he whispered into your ear, "I could just fuck you, so hard, that you won't remember your own name," You shoved your face into the boys neck at a failed attempt to stifle your moans. "Which one pretty girl? I'll give you whatever you want," You felt Soobins dick grow harder at every passing moment, grinding down on him as you contemplated your choices, "Just want you Binnie," The boy smirked at your answer and lent you back onto the couch, "Yeah? Want me to fuck you so good that all you can think about is my cock and your release?" You nodded your head rapidly, tears threatening to fall from your cheeks at his teasing. "You have to use your words baby, gotta let me know how badly you want me hm?" You trembled as you felt Soobins fingers pull down your panties, leaving your pussy bare to him. As the boy carefully removed your skirt you let out a whimper, "Just want you to fuck me till all I can think of is you,". You felt your skirt fall to the floor as the boys face appeared in front of yours, "that's my girl," He smirked out, unbuckling his pants hastily, letting them fall to the floor with ease.

As the boy hovered above you he wondered if you'd need any prep, but as soon as his fingers met your sopping wet cunt, all wonders were lost. "Fuck baby, this all for me," he teased, bringing his fingers, now coated in your wetness, into the gap between the two of you, pulling them apart to show you how wet you really were. Your back arched as you let out another whine at the boys teasing, begging him to stop and to please just fuck you. The boy let out a chuckle, teasing you once more as he let his boxers meet his discarded trousers on the floor, "My baby is so needy, hm?". As Soobins dick sprung out and hit his stomach, you could tell how much he wanted you too, his tip was leaking precum and was a harsh red. As the boy positioned himself above you, you started to squirm in anticipation, the boys hand found your hip, holding it firmly to steady your movements. You finally felt his cock prod at your entrance, you couldn't wait any longer, attempting to push yourself down onto him. He pressed his hand against your stomach stopping your movements once again, "Baby, tell me how much you really want it," You groaned once more, staring into the boys eyes, "Soobin," you hiccuped out, "Soobin, p-please just fuck me, I'll do anything, just wanna feel you inside,", Soobins eyes softened slightly, wiping your now tearful eyes. How could he ever resist you? "Okay," the boy started, "But only because you asked so nicely,".

Soobin started to edge his cock into your tight cunt, your eyes rolling back as he did so, toes curling as the pain of the stretch quickly turned into great pleasure. "Fuck," He breathed out, "You're so fucking tight,". As soon as he bottomed out, you watched as his pretty eyes fluttered back and he let out a string of curses. "You're so perfect, I'd do anything for you oh-,". He continued whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he started to move.

"Faster," you groaned, tugging the boys hair in an attempt to control the amount of pleasure you were feeling. "Really?" He teased, "I'm not going fast enough?". Soobin let out a chuckle and started to fuck you at an inhumane speed, bringing his hand down to stimulate your clit, making you feel more pleasure than you thought was possible. "Fuck, keep doing that," You begged, pulling your boyfriends face down to meet your own in a passionate kiss, both of you moaning into it, feeling the vibrations of each others lewd sounds. You felt Soobins thrusts getting sloppier and his finger on your clit quicken, clearly in an attempt to make you cum before him.

"Oh my god Soobin, I'm gonna cum, can I cum?" His head hung back as his eyes rolled back at the mere thought of you asking him to cum. "Yes baby, fuck, please cum for me," As soon as the words left his throat you were cumming around his cock, letting out such loud moans the neighbours were sure to hear. You felt Soobin tremble as he quickly pulled out and emptied his load onto your stomach.

"Fuck that was so hot," You giggled at his comment and pushed back his sweaty hair, "Have I successfully made it up to you then?" You smiled at the boy, before giving him a wink and whispering, "Not quite yet,".

𝘼/𝙉: hope you enjoy! Please like and reblog as it goes a long way!!!

#run2gyuz #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #soobin #choi soobin

332 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Note

angel and evil steddie au where, for whatever reason, reader has put them on a sex ban/something of the sort, but one of them end up convincing her about ‘just the tip’. I think this could be both of them, but they slowly inch further and further in, swearing it’s just the top, but then u feel their balls fully pressed to u, and their only excuse is that ‘doesn’t it just feel so good/right though??’

A/N: i kinda went a bit crazy with this one, couldn’t just write a little blurb… the “just the tip” thing is just so nomnomnom yummy and i need it like i need oxygen.

word count: 2022

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

“Come on Y/n,” with yielding hands, Eddie carefully sat down next to you, “look, I know I fucked up, I am well aware of that,” he emphasized, “but it’s not fair for Steve,” he motioned to the creature sulking in the corner, staring out the cracked bedroom window, “he doesn’t deserve to undergo the same punishment, my punishment, I should take the full of it, not him,” he gesticulated, “fuck, I mean, just look at him. I think if you don’t do something now, relieve him even a little bit, he will just snap and trust me, you don’t wanna see that,” even from here you could see his ivory knuckles as the angel dug his fingernails into his palms hard enough to draw blood, “please, at least just kiss him a little bit.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snapping the angel out of his daze. Pointing a threatening finger towards him as he turned in your direction, “but you’re still not getting any, you got that?” you warned.

His stoic frown instantly melting away, he breathed out a soft smile, “got it,” slowly moving towards you as felt the devil crawl away.

“I will just give you one kiss, alright?” your finger was still raised as he sat down beside you, his presents causing your arm to retract as he moved in closer.

“Yep,” like coming up for air, his hands slid up to each side of your face, “one kiss,” and the next thing you knew, the angel dove in, and desperately pressed his lips against your own.

Like a man starved, Steve didn’t let his touch falter for even a second, not even parting to catch his breath as his fevered kiss quickly grew out of control. His hands soon wandered all over your form, making you dizzy and causing you not to notice fully when he desperately tilted your body down, pressing you into the mattress with his own weight, just barely hovering above you as he attacked you with his ravenous lips.

“O-okay,” you uttered weakly, his touch succeeding as usual in being extremely persuasive, “I think that counts as way more than one kiss,” your breath ragged as you turned your head for your kiss to be out of his reach.

Your legs naturally rested on either side of him, curled up and hugging his hips as he brashly melted further into you, letting you feel the previously only suspected tent in his pants press against your hot panties, your short dress haven ridden up completely. Ignoring your comment completely, he simply moved on to your neck as he began to grind down against you, needily scratching his itch and making your breath grow more wild.

“Just a little bit more, please,” he croaked, smearing his plea all over where your pulse hammered on the side of your neck, “just give me a little bit more, sweetheart,” his fingers digging into your soft thigh for support as he rocked against the growing wet spot on your exposed underwear.

“Steve,” you tried to fight how your eyes fluttered closed, still determined to keep the disappointment alive, that you had taken out on the both of them, though your arms still reluctantly slid up around his neck and fervently grabbed onto his broad shoulders.

Roaming a hand up to squeeze your tit, your nipples standing proud and visible through your thin dress, he purred, “come on, honey,” catching one of the pebbles between his fingers and tugging on it teasingly, causing your thighs to clench around his form, “I know you need this as much as I do.”

“Steve…” the rest of your words fell short as he raised himself up, hovering above you with his forearms strong on either side of your head, letting you stare into his breathtaking eyes.

Looking down at you as if you were turning into his favourite meal, he continued, “and maybe this could be a way to up his punishment…” with a finger on your jaw, he tilted your head over for you to gaze at the devil, silently watching from the corner of the room, “just let him sit there and watch you get off, while he knows he can’t have you. Wouldn’t that make it much worse for him? Don’t you want him to learn his lesson? Don’t you want him to suffer?”

“I-… fuck, fine,” you gave up in a huff, him haven driven your mind so fuzzy that you couldn’t comprehend saying anything else, “but you are not fucking me,” you said firmly, “not with your tentacles, not with your cock, not even with your finger. You stay out of my pussy, okay?”

Victory seeping across his face in the form of a sly grin, he chuckled, “okay,” agreeing hazily as he dipped back down to catch your lips.

Sneaking a hand down between your close bodies, you felt him tug your sodden panties to the side and rapidly after that heard him impatiently freeing his hard cock, a low sigh leaving his lungs as he felt the intimate contact of his throbbing length rest directly against your weeping folds, leaning his torso far enough back for him to get a good view.

“Oh my god, what did I just say?” you groaned as he, with a grip firm at the base, swiped his leaking tip through your petals, pursing your pretty pussy lips apart for him.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he laughed, holding the soaked cotton to the side, hooked in his thumb, as he rubbed his length all over your cunt, relishing in your juices, “I’m not gonna put it in you. I just wanna feel you, please. It’s been so long.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes, “it’s been like a few days, a week max.”

“I don’t care, that’s still too long,” you sucked in a sharp breath as he suddenly tapped his heavy cock against your buzzing clit, making your whole body jolt in need.

“Yeah, I bet if it was up to you, I would just stay like this,” you joked, “never go to school or work again, just let you two play with me for the rest of my days.”

“Is that a proposition?” he smirked, cocking his eyebrows and pinching your plump folds on either side of his girth, letting him fuck it and glide the bulbous head over your swollen clit.

“Urgh,” you sighed, lifting your hands up and hiding your flushed face from him, “just shut up and cum so I can go back to studying.”

“Oh, yeah, you want me to be quiet all of a sudden?” you peeked down through your fingers and glanced at the sloppy mess he was making of you, “I thought you liked listening to me, listening to what you do to me…” he fucked his fist, angling his thrusts so he slid through your slick folds every time, ending each movement with a persistent nudge at your clit, “don’t lie, I know how much it pushes you over the edge.”

Maybe it was your abundant wetness causing his thrusts to go sloppy or perhaps it was just him being greedy and angling further down, accidentally catching your weeping hole on his way through your folds.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, just the sensation of him rubbing himself over your entrance made your legs quiver, “don’t do that,” you warned as it barely breached one too many times for it to have been accidental.

“Oh, come on,” he flicked against your opening, purposefully getting caught every time, “what if it’s just the tip, huh? Would that be alright? I just wanna feel you squeeze me, even if it’s just the tip.”

Biting down on your lip, his teasing becoming simply too much, you let out a whimper and nodded your head meekly at him.

The thing was, Steve was huge. There wasn’t any other way to put it. He was a powerful creature from beyond this realm and his assents made that painfully obvious. The tip of him didn’t just feel like the tip. The fat head was so big and staggering that it had your whole body just quit on you, the severe stretch being too much for it not to give out. It was always like that. It was so overwhelming that even just a whisper of him felt like he was rearranging your guts. If you didn’t look down, you never truly knew how much of him he had given you till you felt his pelvis rut against your clit and his tip bully your cervix.

Pressing his lips against your own, he muffled your pathetic whimpers as he slowly fucked you with the tip of him, rudely yanking it out just to slap the heavy length against your puffy petals, filling the bedroom with the sloppy music of your need.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned as you melted into the mattress, losing yourself completely to the moment, “missed your little holes so much.”

“Don’t push in any more, promise me you won’t,” you panted, wiggling under his weight.

“I won’t, don’t worry.” he hazily shook his head, capturing your lips once more.

“Promise me,” you turned your cheek to demand.

“I promise, I promise,” his empty answer rushed out as he continued to prod your needy little hole.

Keeping his lips pressed against yours, lapping up your whimpering moans, he crushed you with his body in a way that made the rest of the world just fall away from under you, making your whole universe be just him, the agonising feeling of him bullying your opening, and his warm eyes staring back into your own as you melted into a puddle beneath him.

“Fuck,” you suddenly exclaimed as all the air in your lungs was forced out, “you asshole!” the all too familiar overwhelming sensation of him reaching the end of what you had to offer, making you doubt if you were on the verge of cumming or about to punch him, “I knew you were gonna do that!”

Grinding his pelvis against your own, burying himself so deep that it hurt, he taunted, “if you were really so smart, then why did you let me?” relishing in the feeling of your cunt clambering down around him.

Trying not to give him the satisfaction, you muttered, “god, I hate you,” though your conviction was lost completely as his sudden and powerful thrust made you moan out in enchanted ecstasy.

“Aw, I love you too, honey,” he chuckled, kissing your fuzzy features as he found his greedy rhythm, “doesn’t this feel so much better, though?”

“I can feel you in my fucking throat,” you gasped, a statement true of every time he had filled you up.

Adoring eyes soaking in your every reaction, he growled in response, “exactly.”

His hands then swiftly grabbed yours as they began to claw at his back, hauling them up above your head and locking them in his tight grip.

“This pretty little pussy just needed to be stuffed,” he cooed against your lips, “it’s what she deserves,” his balls, dripping with your juices, slapped against your heat with every needy slam, “deserves to be treated like this,” he empathized with his hips, “deserves to be used,” he shifted his grip on your wrists, gliding up to weave his fingers with yours, “to be loved,” his nose rhythmically bumped against yours as he pushed you over the edge, “to be worshipped,” he fervently captured your lips, silencing the guttural cry that escaped as you trembled violently beneath him, soaking the bedsheets and gushing all over his cock.

Letting your eyes flutter shut, his gruff moans washed over you as your clenching cunt milked him of all of his worth.

“Fuck,” he panted, forehead resting against your own as he insatiably continued to roll into you, sloppily fucking his cum even deeper and forcing it to spill out as your pussy clambered around him, “I love you so much…”

“You are so terrible,” you said light-heartedly as a dazed smile bloomed upon your blissed-out face, your brows swiftly knitting together at his excessive and relentless desire.

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

WYD 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can't refuse.

(based on suggestion he's been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You can’t help but grin as you scroll through the comments. There aren’t many but those that are there give you that rush of adrenaline. More so, the interaction is great for your wallet.

As a faceless creator, your interaction is limited. You prefer the smaller community. Your might not be the most lucrative account on OnlyFans but it pays your rent, just about.

It’s the only secret you’ve ever had in your life and it’s a big one. You don’t think anyone would believe it. Not you. Not the librarian’s assistant on part-time salary in her corduroys and stuffy oversized cardigans.

It wasn't exactly an opportunity you were fond of, more of a last resort. You don’t fantasize about the men on the other side of the screen, as flattering as they can be. They have a similar sort of desperation, but the crux of it is somewhat more pitiful.

It’s the private message waiting for you that surprises you. That alone is behind a paywall, a feature many users forego when they’re only there for the quick wank. You shudder at the thought, often avoiding that reality of your side hustle.

You’re nervous to check but alone in the stacks, with not much else to do, your curiosity gets the best of you. You tap the icon and bring up the chat from BB. No profile pic, no info, just a message.

‘Are you interested in a private arrangement? 5k/week guaranteed.’

Great, a scam. You roll your eyes and close the app. Stupid. But why would someone pay for content just to try to con you. It’s a pretty big gamble.

You tuck away your phone and sigh, pacing up and down the aisle. The soft flutter of pages and stagnant silence. It’s so dull, you’d rather deal with anything else for the minimum wage and uncertain hours. Still, the freedom lets you tend to your other business.

A few minutes later, out of habit, you bring out your phone again. You linger in the blindspot of the cameras and unlock it. The app pops up as you left it. Another message.

‘Don’t leave me on read.’

The demand startles you. You should just block but you know that it’s money in your pocket. You’re not gullible, more greedy.

‘5k? Okay, sure.’

You press send and hide your phone behind your back and wander on. Your insides squirm. You’re not stupid enough to believe it. You look again at the end of the next shelf.

‘If you want more, we can negotiate. We’d have to meet to do that.’

You scoff aloud and quickly look around. There’s no one there to be disturbed. You evasively sit at one of the desk and hide behind the wooden cubicle that encloses it.

‘I’m not stupid’, you reply.

‘No, but you’re gorgeous. Pick the place. Let’s talk.’

‘Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for but it’s not with me,’ you type, skin razed and speckly.

‘I mean it.’

‘You’re not real. Your 5k is less real. Save your money and stop messaging.’

You wait, watching the screen. Your ears prick as you listen to the lull of the forgotten library. You can hear a cart rolling a few aisles back. You can’t get caught on your phone again.

A new notification blips up in the app before you can black the screen. ‘BB sent a tip’. You click it without thinking and bring up the tip; $1,000. A thousand? A message pops down and you quickly flick the chat back over the screen.

‘Believe me now?’ He challenges.

You take a breath and lock your phone, tucking it up your sleeve as you stand and turn down an aisle, passing the approaching cart as you refuse to look at the employee behind it. You go to the catalogue computer and pretend to tidy the little paper slips and pencils. You wait until the wheels squeak onward.

You slide your phone out and press your fingertip against the censor. The screen opens and the next message taunts you.

‘Give me a place and time’.

You hesitate and peek around, paranoid that others could read your mind just by looking at you.

‘Send a pic. Then I’ll meet,’ you counter.

‘You first, doll. Face for a face.’

You don’t like this and yet, you’re messaging.

‘After you,’ you insist.

No answer. You shake your head and put your phone back under your cuff. You carry on and head up the stairs to the next level. When you look at your phone again, there’s a response waiting for you.

A man with bright blue eyes and a sculpted jawline. Handsome, almost breathtakingly so. Your surprise is undergirded by your insecurity. Well, might as well send your own and let him change his mind. You scroll through your miniscule collection of selfies that don’t make you cringe and send one off.

You can’t look away as you wait. You know what’s coming. Rejection. Finally…

‘Place, time. Make sure to buy yourself something nice.”

You stare at his answer, dumbfounded. Are you really going to do this?

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #of!reader #WYD #marvel #mcu #drabble #series #au #winter soldier #captain america

449 notes · View notes

neverinadream · 5 months

Text

A "White" Christmas

Summary: With her parents visiting to celebrate the holidays early, Y/N finds herself cock blocked in her own home.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Wit It This Christmas - Ariana Grande

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, pre-established relationship, fluff, boyfriend!christian, uses of she/her pronouns, soft dom!christian x sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (pretty, baby, good girl...), praise kink, mutual masturbation, a little bit of cum play, not edited

Notes: to the girls in the gc, i am not back, just thought i would surprise you 🤭 to everyone else, hello, hi, here's my first festive-ish fic. i'll be honest, there isn't much festive about this, other than like two lines and the pun in the title but it's something...a little clunky and the ending is rushed but whatever. anyway feedback is always appreciated

“Please, Christian!”

A laugh trickled up Christian's throat, passing his lips on a single breath, as Y/N continued to stagger open-mouthed kisses up the column of his neck and across the stubble that painted his jaw. His hands go to her hips, holding her still when she tries to grind against him, desperate to seek out some friction to soothe the ache that had been building between her thighs all night. Rolled up sleeves, flexed forearms, and lingering touches that burned away the cold, winter chill were a tasty recipe that was only leading to disappointment.

“I need you,” she whines into his ear, dragging her hand down his toned chest. His body grows taut, her hand dusting over his shorts, earning a faint groan as she squeezes him through the black material. “You want me too, baby,” she dips her head back into the curve of his neck, “unless you've got something else stuffed down your shorts.”

“Your parents-”

“I can be quiet.”

“Ha!” His laughter gets lost inside her mouth, her lips crashing against his, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip when he doesn't allow her tongue to meet his. “The only way I can keep you quiet is if I stuff your mouth,” he says, her ears hearing only the truth.

“So treat my mouth like a stocking and stuff it,” she purrs, the corners of her mouth turning upwards into a wickedly delightful grin.

Her hand slides inside his shorts, stroking him from root to tip as she takes his cock with a tight grip. Soft grunts leave his mouth, her hand coming up to wrap around the head, squeezing it with enough pressure to make him dizzy.

He tips his head back, softly thudding against the headboard. “You're gonna be the death of me, one day.”

“So…is that a yes?” She asks, batting her eyelashes.

“Not exactly,” he watches the disappointment roll over her features, “but, I have an idea, if you're willing to try.”

“Go on…”

“You want to come, yes?” She goes quiet, answering with a nod. “So, touch yourself-”

“It's not the same,” she cuts him off, bringing her mouth against his neck, teasing out a moan as she licks down to his collarbone. She bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, her thighs clamping as he squeezes her hips tighter. “I want you to touch me,” she whines, nuzzling her face against his stubble, enjoying the feel of it rasping against her skin, “I want you to make me come.”

“I'll still be here,” he flips their position, hopping off the bed before she can respond, “and I'll be doing the exact same thing.” He peels his shirt off over his head, throwing it in her direction; she bats it away like a cat’s paw to a fly. “Show me what you do to yourself when I'm away,” he coaxes, “and I'll show you what I do.”

She sits up, her fingers taking control as she reaches for the end of her T-Shirt. “I don't see how this is any different to us just having sex,” she mumbles, tossing it to the end of the bed.

“Leave the bra on,” Christian utters, parting his lips on a groan. His hand is pushed down the front of his shorts, giving himself a slow stroke as he admires the dark red lace.

She looks down at her recent purchase, thinking the colour was fitting for the holiday season. “So you like it?”

“It's gonna be something new to think about when I'm away,” he confesses, pulling his shorts off, kicking them away as they reach the ground. His cock had sprung up, the tip swollen and red, aching to be emptied. He works his pre-cum over the head, a moan getting lost in the back of his throat as he does his best to stay quiet. “Our bed is against the same wall as your parents’, baby,” he painfully reminds her, “and I haven't recovered from the last time we tried to have sex under the same roof as your parents. Or, do you not remember your mom interrupting us?”

Heat trickles up her neck. “I remember, but this is our house. We can have sex in our own home.”

“Not tonight,” he shakes his head, “not this week.” She huffs a breath, back slumping against the headboard. She couldn't believe she was being cock blocked by her own parents in her own home, with a boyfriend who was going along with it. “Now, spread your legs,” he orders, climbing to kneel at her feet, “and pull your panties to the side. I want to see you.”

She sits up, parting her legs without any hesitation, biting her lip to suppress a whimper as she exposes herself to the cold air. It's pretty and perfect, glistening with arousal.

“Wider,” he mumbles, slowing his strokes, “spread your pussy open for me.” He knows he can't be loud, but a groan rips through him as she uses two fingers to spread her lips. “Look at it,” he squeezes his hand tight around the tip, “it's just begging for me to fuck it.”

“Please,” she whimpers, brushing her fingers over her clit, dancing around the sensitive nub. Her free hand roams her chest, drawing his gaze to the way she pinched her nipples through the lace. She whimpers again, tugging harshly on her nipple. “Please, Christian,” she tips her head back, exposing the soft column of her neck, “please, just fuck me!”

“Quiet, baby,” he leans over her body, skirting his mouth up her neck, nipping at her pulse point and flicking his tongue against her ear, “we don't need your daddy hearing his little girl begging to be fucked through the wall.”

“And what about this daddy?” She grins, nudging him back to look at him. His eyes go wide, but his cock throbs in his hand. “What does this daddy need his little girl to do?”

He sits back on his heels, fucking his fist faster, wishing he could suck on the puckered bud pressing through her bra. “What do you think about when I'm away?” He nods to her hand, her fingers rubbing her clit in hard circles. “Do you think about me? Do you think about my fingers inside you instead of your own?”

She pushes two fingers inside her cunt, him watching as they come out coated in her wetness. He licks his lip thinking about how they would taste if she shoved them into his mouth. Those thoughts disappear as she pushes them back in, deeper this time, her back arching away from the bed. Her other hand slides over her belly and down to her clit.

“I think about you,” she's panting for air now, her pleasure building as she curls her fingers, brushing the sweet spot against her front wall, “us, on your birthday, out on the balcony.”

A laugh bubbles in his throat, his cheeks blushing the sweetest shade of pink as the memory comes flooding back to him. Her on his lap, his cock, thick and hard through his pants, rubbing up against her aching cunt. “That was a good night,” he agrees, pumping his cock, squeezing his head on every upstroke. He was close, but he knew she was too. “Never did finish, did we?”

She can't answer, the words trapped inside, so she just shakes her head instead.

“I think…” Her eyes roll, bottom lip catching between her teeth to keep herself quiet. She pumps her fingers and rubs her clit faster. “...I'm close.”

“Yeah?” He matches her speed, forearms flexing, his tattoos visible from the corner of her eyes. His lips part on a silent groan. “Good, because I don't think I'll last much longer.” Her name shudders out his mouth. “Fuck-!” He shifts until he’s straddling one of her thighs, his cock pointing proudly towards her as he jerks his hand in her direction. “Can I come on your pussy?”

She whimpers, feeling empty as she withdraws her fingers. “Do it,” she nods, rubbing her clit, the last little push she needs to hurtle herself off the edge.

She comes with his name on her lips, her hand clamped over her mouth to catch the majority of her screams, and Christian comes to the sound of it. His eyes squeeze shut, muttering, “take it, take it all,” under his breath as he coats her pussy in his cum. The release knocks off his balance and he grabs the top of the headboard to stop himself from collapsing on top of Y/N.

He tries to catch his breath, his forehead briefly pressing against hers, his body half slumped over. “When do your parents leave?” He asks, brushing his thumb lightly over her swollen clit. She shudders, biting her bottom lip to cage the whine that was strangled in the back of her throat. “End of the week, right?” She nods her head. “Good,” he murmurs, wiping his fingers through his cum, painting his arousal around her cunt, “because I'm tired of being cock blocked in my own home.”

———————

Football Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills @pulisicsgirl @ricciardhoe3

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you

339 notes · View notes

aemondsladywife · 1 year

Text

His Lady Wife : Alternative Ending I

aemond x reader

an alternative ending to 'His Lady Wife' where y/n survives and aemond suffers the consequences of his actions.

a/n: its 3am in the uk rn and i've made you guys wait too long! i am extremely sorry this took so long to write!! i won't even lie, its not the best, i really struggled w these alternative endings, feedback and comments are appreciated as always, my inboxes are always open for requests!! also if you want to be on my permanent aemond taglist, please comment! btw there are more alt endings on its way!

genre: angst

after hours and hours of intense labour, you finally gave birth to a premature baby girl. you were exhausted, but seeing your precious baby girl gave you all the strength you needed in the world. as you cradled your tiny, precious baby girl, your 'husband' came in, with guilt etched all over his face.

"my wife I-"

his eyes fell to his tiny baby girl. his eyes began to water as he spoke,

"is that my daughter?"

you looked at him with cold eyes, your blood was boiling as you placed a protective arm around the daughter you had just birthed.

"no she is no mans daughter. she is mine. only mine. no fucking guards and definetely not yours. she has your white hair and violet eyes but it was not you who carried her 8 months in a chamber fit for a criminal. it wasn't you who had to endure severe pains for the past 8 moons. it wasn't you who pushed and pushed for 9 hours straight. that was all me. you left her mother to die and now you expect to be her father? if you want a baby so bad carry on fucking that whore of yours, you're nearly there!"

aemond looked at his wife with wide eyes. he didn't know what to say or where to begin. her anger was justified. he was about to step closer and speak to his wife when he was interrupted by a maester.

"my prince, may I speak to you in private."

aemond nodded to the maester, with tears of guilt and pain in his eyes as he walked out of the room with him.

"my prince. the princesses labours were... horrific, to put it mildly. as she was not given any support during her tulmtuous pregnancy, her labors were worse than we had ever seen, it is a miracle that she and the babe are alive. it was a whole moon early, she lost litres of blood, the baby was upside down and had to be physically twisted and even now, both mother and wife are severly unwell. please do not take offence my prince... but it is best you give the princess and the babe their space. any further stress could even cause a heart attack."

aemond felt sick to his stomach as he realised what he had put his wife and daughter through, all because he let his self doubt and insecurities get the better of him.

he nods and complies to the maesters words. what else could he do other than wait? he caused enough damage as it is.

weeks go by and aemond can't even catch a glimpse of either his wife or daughter. his heart is overtaken by remorse and longing. he knew this was all his fault, but he desperately wanted to see his baby and his wife who he treated so terribly.

aemond took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his estranged wife's chambers, he has flowers and a dragon plushie in his hands.

you open the door, with your daughter in your arms, not expecting to see aemond at the door.

"husband."

aemond has a sorrowful, sad smile on his face.

"my wife, i know my actions are much beyond forgiveness, i will live the rest of my life in regret for my disgusting actions... but please, give me a chance to redeem myself. i will do anything and everything my love. i have not even held my own daughter. please. i beg you, my lady. let me hold my little girl."

aemond begged you with tears in his eyes. he was desperate. he looked at his tiny daughter in your arms and yearned to hold her. all he wanted was to be a good father and husband.

"i remember feeling this desperate too..."

your words give him a slight bit of hope. he hopes that you pity him enough to give him a chance.

"i felt this desperate when i begged of you to let me go to my fathers and recieve treatment for my pregnancy complications. and what did you do. refuse. and what did i have to do? suffer in silence. now you will do the same."

aemond's entire being became filled with guilt and resentment towards himself, he would do anything for a moment with his wife and daughter.

"please my wife. please. i have not been able to eat or sleep knowing the pain i caused you and our daughter."

you looked back at him with no sympathy and chuckled when you spoke.

"i remember that feeling all too well. i felt the same when you restricted me to a chamber with mouldy walls and food that wouldn't feed a child let alone a woman carrying a child herself"

you were shutting the door on him when he stopped it. he was so desperate, he was begging you with tears in his eyes.

"please. my lady. my lady wife i know my apologies are worthless but at least give this to my sweet girl."

he holds out the little stuffed dragon toy, praying to the gods you would accept it.

"we do not accept gifts from strangers. especially ones who once had ill intentions for us."

with that, you shut the door and left aemond in a state of great despair. in one swoop, he lost his wife and only child. his dreams of being a father had been crushed by his own hand.

taglist: @fultimefangirl @hc-geralt-23 @whatsonthemirror @69cocktimusprime @immyowndefender @burntoutpetals @uselessbutinteresting @bibli0thecary @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @bellameshipper @graykageyama @krispold @malfoytargaryen @imnotyourbcbe @poisonedsultana @caramelcandescence @azaleapotterblack @oh-thats-cute

*tags w a line through didn't work!

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd #hotd season 1 #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond stannies #aemond fic #aemond oneshot #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond angst #aemond x you #aemond targaryen fic #hotd aemond #aemond imagine

2K notes · View notes

manicpixiefelix · 2 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 14.

Summary: Our second look through Oliver's eyes as he thinks back on the night he and Felix get champagne drunk on the bridge, and then when he gets to Saltburn. Looking around both Y/N and Felix's rooms, he gets to know more about them, and finally he meets the Catton Family.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader is said/implied to be high for some of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 8506 words. you have all deserved a good feed and i am here to provide. sorry it's been a week, the dam broke, things are looking good in my personal life which is nice, and i am BACK on main fic nonsense. we get another Ollie POV, please let me know what you think, im so excited to have everyone at the estate and hanging out!! got big plans going forward!! excited to be setting it all up!! yeah please feedback, my darling friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Sometimes Oliver feels like he was put on this Earth solely to exist in Felix Catton's affectionate gaze. Everything else in life is just filler.

That night on the bridge, he and Felix in suits, drunk on champagne and bathed in the twilight of the evening, will haunt him, he's sure. He welcomes it with open arms, surfacing when his mind is idle and elsewhere. Felix smiling at him, Felix trying to bring him closure even if he doesn't really need it, Felix hanging on his every word, ever story he would fabricate to keep Felix's eyes fixed on him and only him. Felix so close, Felix with his arm around Ollie, Felix's thigh pressed up against his as they sat alone on the edge of the bridge.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Oliver feels dwarfed by him, never more so than these moments where Felix insists on occupying Oliver's personal space, and then some. But he'll never complain; Felix's affection is intoxicating, addicting even. To be so wrapped up in it, in him, it's bliss, though Oliver never wanted to seem needy for such affection, that's why he waits for these moments, for Felix to make first contact. He wonders if Felix had realised the way you so quickly had in the beginning.

Everyone reaches out for Felix, everyone else appears so desperate. Its why Oliver's always held back from touching him, always waited and let Felix make the first move. Felix was made to be wanted, he basks in it; Oliver gives him the chance to want. Isn't there a thrill in that? A novelty?

And to be wanted by Felix... That was a gift in itself too.

Oliver had, admittedly, been worried that he'd lost his chance at that. After sleeping with you, Felix holding him at arm's length, he could feel his grip slipping. Plucking at the strings of Felix's clear saviour complex was enough to claw back into his life, but he now knew his place was precarious, and most tentative of all was everything about you.

So he'd held back from you. On purpose. Often distinctly, even when you'd give these confused, disheartened looks. He tried not to look at you in those moments; his focus was Felix, Felix seemed harder won.

But when he'd tried to apologise on the bridge - at first he wasn't going to bring it up, but it was dark and he was reasonably drunk and the only person who's ever smiled like Felix had been smiling at him in that moment had been you - Felix had, at first, laughed him off. No, he can feel it now, weighing on him; he needs to balance the scales. He wants Felix so bad it aches in his bones, but Oliver knows his want goes beyond just the beautiful boy by his side. Every part of you, how you interact with the world, interact with him, the way you exist and exude confidence and love, drew Oliver in like a moth to a flame. If Felix is the hook, you were the line. The bait, and the trap. The sun, and it's warmth. He wants to always be the focus of your loving, attentive gaze. Always wants you to want him too.

Oliver is the helpless fly in the web you and Felix have woven, to be so lovingly obsessed with you both as you are, and yet still drawn further in, to love the love you share. He feels trapped and utterly helpless against his feelings for you both.

So he has to make it right. Has to make it... even? Was that how to make it right?

But Felix is different on the bridge. Different to the jealous creature he tried so clearly to hide in the weeks before. Something had changed.

"You never need to apologise for making them happy," he says easily, affectionately. Oliver tries to be insistent, that he never meant to get between the two of you. He's rambling and tipsy, but not enough to miss the faint choked noise of what Oliver could have sworn was intrigue that Felix makes at that, but he knows better than to dwell or comment on it. Instead, Felix claps him on the back; "you wanna make it up to me we can say you owe me one," he says far too easily.

"Owe you one what?" Oliver frowns, playing oblivious for a moment as he takes a sip of the champagne before Felix gives him a cheeky wink and a grin.

"Shag, of course."

Oliver does a spit take with surprise, not having thought Felix would be so casual and genuine about it, almost falling off of the bridge in the moment. Felix catches him, arm around him as he laughs through an apology.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry mate," he wheezes, carefully clapping Ollie on the shoulder, "also I apologise for assuming, poor form, sometimes I forget people can be weird about these things- not saying you'd be weird, we've just never spoken about this kind of thing."

It speaks to how much he must genuinely trust Oliver, considering how light the conversation remains. Or perhaps it's the bubbly. Still, Oliver has a little bit of an inkling about what this kind of thing may be. But part of him needs Felix to say it, to confirm his suspicions, to keep stringing him along with further crumbs of hope.

"Assuming what?"

There's a single moment, the way in which Felix looks at Oliver out of the corner of his eyes, smile briefly frozen on his face as he must be considering the weight of what he's about to say. Its in the moment that follows, when Felix laughs almost self consciously and withdraws his hand that Oliver wonders how out Felix is. Oliver had always just kind of assumed - hoped - on the basis of his relationship with Y/N, but it occurs to him that the general perception of Felix, the talk and rumours and gossip that surrounded him, never really entertained the idea that he was actually queer. Felix's affection towards everyone in his life was simply a by-product of who he was, and you're his best friend - and his cousin, according to Farleigh - so of course you don't count, and otherwise Felix Catton was a known lady's man, right?

Not quite, it seemed.

"That you'd even be into guys like that," it sounds so easy when Felix says it, like Oliver can't see the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over, taking the bottle of champagne back. Its almost empty. Oliver doesn't mind if he finishes it.

Felix looks at the sky, at the stars.

Oliver thinks about the VHS tape of Maurice that he stole from a rental store after looking at the back cover. He'd kept it stashed in his sock drawer and watched every week under the cover of absolute darkness until it literally became unplayable. Yes, Oliver liked guys, and spent his teen years having just as many lewd fantasies about boys with posh accents, and charmingly youthful features, and floppy, brown hair, as he did about girls with big, dark eyes, and high, perfect cheek bones, in bright red wedding dresses. His sisters hated Beetlejuice, thought it was gross, but he and his mother would watch it together on occasion, sharing a blanket his gran had crocheted, and a bowl of popcorn. She'd get all giggly over Alec Baldwin, while Oliver couldn't help but fall for Winona Ryder for the duration of the film, every time.

For a moment, he thinks of the sunlit kitchen he grew up in, and his mother cooking Sunday lunch with a record playing. The last Sunday before he left for Oxford. In the yard, he can hear his father mowing the lawn, and he's sure Emily is in her room packing for her own journey back to her third year of studying. But Oliver comes out of his room just as Jump in Line (Shake Senora) begins to play. Serendipity. Already excited by the song, his mother looks up from the dishes, and practically lights up at the sight of her son. She's going to ask him to dance. He's going to say yes. They're both going to love this moment; she says it's their song, and Oliver dances along to their song. When it's over, Oliver won't admit that he's disappointed it had to end, but he tells his mother he'll miss her too when she hugs him especially tightly. For that one moment he hadn't ached to leave the way he'd been for months, for years.

Looking now at the rock in the rubbish that represented his father, there's a momentary pang of guilt for lying so dramatically about him he hadn't been expecting. So he pushes it out of his mind.

Felix finishes the bottle, and Oliver watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Effortlessly beauty.

Oliver wants to focus on his future, not his past.

"Haven't got too much experience with 'em, but that doesn't stop me from liking them well enough," feeling especially bold, he levels a sly smile at Felix, "so if it's all good with you, maybe we do say I owe you one."

Felix blushes the most beautiful scarlet as he barks a loud, pleased laugh. But most importantly, he relaxes.

"It's not that hard," he offers so nonchalantly, amending with a sheepish grin, "well it is, that's part of the point -" but Oliver can't help himself.

"I said I didn't have a lot of experience, didn't say I was completely inexperienced."

"No, I know," Felix's voice turns all smug and teasing, and Oliver can feel his face beginning to heat up as he realised the implications of Felix's tone, "I've heard rave reviews." Oliver had taken the time to have his fun, to have a few hook ups here and there in the past year, usually with girls or guys from town or other campuses who had no idea who he was otherwise. There's only one person who'd be giving him rave reviews, as Felix had called them.

Huh. It's quite the compliment; he had gone out of his way to give you the kind of attention he suspected few people ever bestowed upon you, but rave reviews? What had you actually told Felix?

Instead, considering that this still feels like potentially rocky territory, he tries to bring it back.

"It's one of the few ways I ever really learned how to make people feel appreciated," his gaze drops with his tone, and hopes that Felix takes the bait. The threads that tie back to the story of his unfortunate upbringing, but also perhaps the threads that subconsciously tie his attitude and behaviour to you in Felix's mind. Even if you don't say it, he knows it's part of how you operate, and he's willing to bet that Felix had picked up on that too.

It works. Felix wraps an arm around him, assuring him that he has so much to offer the world. God, he sounds so sincere when he says it; if Oliver hadn't knowingly baited him into the compliment, he would have believed him entirely. At the very least he basks in how good it is to hear Felix say.

They talk through the night, Oliver tentatively feeling his way towards his goal, the opportunity to spend Summer with Felix too, to make sure this connection doesn't wither in the interim. Of course he plays at being humble, at refusing the offer despite how clearly uninhabitable the sob story home he'd made up for himself was, but just as he'd predicted, Felix, ever the saviour, refuses to take no for an answer. Apparently his mother has people stay for months at a time anyhow. Oliver wonders idly if that's where Felix got it from.

"Y/N will be so pleased, I can tell you that," Felix mentioned with fondness. Of course Oliver had anticipated that you would probably be spending at least some of your Summer with them, but he's surprised that when he enquires further, Felix admits, "yeah they live with me at Saltburn when we're not at school, have for ages now."

"What, all the time? They really are a ward of the Saltburn Estate?"

Felix wears a strange little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's an unfamiliar kind of melancholy that doesn't look quite right on him, Oliver thinks, as Felix shrugs again.

"Some people's parents just aren't meant to be parents."

For a split second Oliver feels a rush of guilt as he comes to realise he may have fabricated a life for himself that you had actually lived. In the moment, however, he dips his head, a sign that he understands, that he agrees.

"Then we're lucky to have you."

Felix throws an arm around his shoulders, pulls him in tightly and presses a kiss to the side of his head, assuring him it's no trouble at all.

"What are friends for?"

Yes, this moment would be burned into his brain; Felix so warm beside him, Felix smiling against his temple, Felix champagne drunk and willing to share his life, if only for six weeks. Every fibre of Oliver's being is willing it to work out, willing it to be more than just these six weeks -

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Except the minute he knocks on the doors of the house that looms so large he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by it, he feels like he's failed a test. The look in the terrifying doorman's eyes, his tone of voice, the unflinching scrutiny when faced with Oliver's continual awkwardness and questions, makes him feel like he's failed several more in rapid succession.

Oliver's actually pretty sure he's never been quite so glad to see Felix as the exact moment he calls out to Oliver with absolute joy. Which is saying something. It's never felt like Felix is judging him, at least not in a way he can't pass. Thank fuck. Felix, in this moment, is the only one who matters, he tells himself.

That being said, Oliver had been expecting you to be by Felix's side when he'd come bounding in to save him from Duncan's scrutiny. That's generally where he's come to expect you. Not that he wasn't grateful for Felix giving the tour, it was just... unexpected.

Honestly, when you appear from a door on the other side of the long gallery, opposite Felix's bedroom, Oliver's surprised by how relieved he is to see you. The room you've exited seems to be themed in pale purple from the brief glimpse Oliver sees, and you've got a leather bound folder in your arms, but neither of those is nearly so interesting as the look in your eyes. Looking back, Oliver sees Felix lounging in his doorframe, looking between you both with patient amusement.

"Ollie!"

Oliver's pretty sure no-one in his life has ever sounded this excited to see him. The only person who comes closes would be Felix, five minutes ago.

"Ollie, oh Ollie - Fi, hold this," you pass off your folder to Felix, who of course takes it without argument, before Oliver's swept up in a tight hug, "you're early, you smell nice," you hug him so enthusiastically the two of you spin for a moment, before pulling back, holding him at arm's length like you're assessing the state of him. Instead, you beam, holding his hands as you turned to Felix, "Fi, Ollie's here! We love Ollie!"

This time when you meet Oliver's gaze, he's surprised to see not just love, but want. You'd worn that look in the weeks before the two of you had fucked, like all you could think about was how you'd once begged him to want you, and how he of course admitted he did. When had he started missing this look in your eyes? All he can think about is that night in the warmth of your bed, the way you'd sounded so fucking certain and needy - of course I want you - and how he can see it in your eyes again now. For a moment his mind and resolve is fuzzy; why had he ever stopped reaching out for you?

"We do love Ollie," Felix agreed with further amusement, and that's when he remembers. Except... this isn't the jealous version of Felix that had shown up in the aftermath. This was the Felix who'd brushed off Oliver's apologies about the whole ordeal on the bridge and proceeded to overtly, if jokingly, flirt with him. Already he feels just a touch more relaxed in this new dynamic that was being set up for the Summer.

Actually, Oliver, for just a second, thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, Ollie, look at your nails," he hears next, however, and it immediately shatters the illusion as he pulls his hands away from you and your judgemental eyes.

"Don't be mean," Felix chides, and you look up with surprised, as if you hadn't realised your own less than complimentary tone. Looking between Oliver and Felix, there's apology in your eyes.

"Sorry Ollie," you're quick to offer, and he awkwardly tries to act like he's not embarrassed, "I'll give you a manicure, I can paint your nails; we can match!" You smiled brightly, hands pressed flat and warm to his chest all of a sudden, "I match Fi's shirt today; Farleigh painted my nails -" your eyes go wide as if you'd just remembered; "Farleigh; shit."

You run for the door to the blue room. Oliver, deeply confused, watches you go. Then, he hears Felix sigh with fond exasperation, holding out the leather folder. A moment later you burst through the door again.

"Documents. Shit. Thanks, Fi!"

And you're off again.

"Is this... how they normally are just at Saltburn?" Oliver finally asks with faint concern, looking from the door to Felix in the darkened doorframe.

"My lovely cousin is an atrocious influence on our dear Y/N," Felix said with incredible diplomacy. But Oliver's mind momentarily catches on the wording.

Our Y/N.

Just like before, a strange thrill, a rush; he remembers the look in your eyes when he'd first said 'Our Felix' to you. An exclusive kind of possessive, one you'd willingly share with Oliver. He liked this dynamic, he wondered how hard he'd have to push it to get beyond the simple semantics.

We love Ollie!

We do love Ollie.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult at all.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead, and Felix turns to him with that same amused smile.

"They're fine, don't worry mate, they're just high is all," clearly Felix's feelings are mixed on the subject; Oliver knows he has no problems with getting high himself, so he suspects Felix cares more about Oliver's first impressions of his home and his family than he was wanting to let on. You were his right hand after all. There's something endearing about how much he seems to want Oliver to want to be here. Which he does, for the record.

"So this is your room?" Oliver enquires, shooting for brightness, despite the momentary awkwardness. He watches the tension leave Felix's shoulders. It's enough for Oliver, and his gaze drifts, roams around and tries to catalogue every single piece of Felix he can glean from the clutter. Even with an army of servants there's something unkempt about how he decorates the otherwise old and ornate space. CDs he'll spend time poring over, stacks of books, and trinkets, and tchotchkes. Felix even has a balcony; stone railings and enough decorative chairs, and even a lounge and small table, for company.

Here and there in the room itself, however, a few things seem out of place; shoes that didn't look like Felix's sitting neatly by the door, two dressing gowns, one maroon and tossed over the bed, the other in navy and draped more deliberately over the end of the bed. Two glasses of water, one on either side of the bed. Tell-tale signs that clue Oliver in before Felix even confirms it -

"Mine and Y/N's, yeah," he says it so easily, so nonchalantly, no bothering with pretence here at Saltburn, "you'll be staying just next door," Felix continues on with a wide, easy smile over his shoulder as he continued to flit through the rooms, catching light, voice echoing amongst the decorative walls.

"Bathroom," he offers, before turning, adding, "we're going to be sharing a bathroom, by the way, I hope you don't mind," and Oliver finds himself drawn to the sight of the ornate bath, as if on purposeful display in the middle of the room, "otherwise you'd be miles away on the other end of the house," Felix explains, continuing on without even considering his words as he says them. No, of course Oliver didn't mind.

All Oliver can think of is everything that simple sentence implied. Closeness. Implicit want. A sudden flash in Oliver's mind as Felix continues through to the dressing room, of sweat beading along skin and hands clutching desperately at the cool, porcelain edge of the tub, of water sloshing and spilling and overflowing, and the sound of breathless moaning -

He tries to focus, tries to simply watch Felix's hands as he taps idly on the red walls of the dressing room as he lead into what Oliver can only assume to be his room. He stays out of his head, leans into the moment, and lets himself relax as Felix gestures broadly, brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Your room!"

It's bright, all wide, open windows looking over the beautiful grounds of Saltburn, honey coloured wood and lamps that glow in such a way that he was reminded of Oxford. Already someone's brought his suitcase up, set it out at the end of the bed; he'd get to unpacking that later tonight, for now he took his time relaxing into the space. Felix had already sat himself down, seemingly at home in the old, wooden rocking chair, watching Oliver, almost like he was trying to hide his nervous anticipation.

"I'm really glad you're here, mate," for just a moment, Felix sounds more honest than he'd been since Oliver had arrived. There's something in his eyes that Oliver hadn't been anticipating, in the brief moment in which their gazes meet. There's a kind of arrogance, Oliver thinks, to calling even a sliver of it something like love, but it's adoration and appreciation nonetheless. It's gone in a flash, too brief to be anything serious, he thinks once more as Felix stands, "right, I will, er... I'll leave you to it."

And Oliver is quiet. It's a kind of reverence, or perhaps it reads like shock and awe at the whole place, but he listens quietly as Felix tells him about his mother's aversion to stubble and ugliness and piercings and -

"Anything else I should know about?" Finally he asks, sensing Felix was close to rambling on a nervous tangent. Thankfully, Felix actually seems relieved by the interruption, assuring him that there was nothing else to worry about.

Felix tells Oliver that he just needs to be himself, that his family will love him. That it's relaxed. Oliver loves Felix dearly, but doubts he, a man who rarely seems to be anything but relaxed, would be the best judge of that. Especially in a place like this. Still, Oliver smiles like he believes him, and watches the way Felix hangs himself back from the door on his heels, almost like a little kid, telling Oliver that his family will be in the library when he's ready.

Library?

His mental image of Saltburn grows with each moment. Soon it will overwhelm him, he's sure.

So he tries, just for the moment, to get acquainted with the room he's been given. His own, honey-coloured piece of Saltburn, if only for the Summer. Hopefully beyond, that dreamy little voice of want whispers in the back of his mind. Another flash of desire runs through him, the image of a quiet evening on Felix's balcony, a purple sky and a glass of scotch, book in one hand and Felix's head in his lap. He'd be too big for the little sofa, legs hanging off the edge, but he's comfortably fallen asleep with Oliver's fingers carding through his hair; when you drape yourself over Oliver's shoulders, there's loving affection in the way you call them 'your boys' -

God he'd been entertaining these fantasies for months, sure, almost since he'd met you and Felix, but never this vivid, never so detailed or hard to push away, to pretend like he'd never had them when he next tries to look you both in the eyes.

Yeah, me and Y/N's room. You're right next door. We'll be sharing a bathroom.

This is either going to be a dream, or the hardest Summer of his life. Pun entirely intended.

The room itself is rather charming, once Oliver finally breaks free of his own fantasies. Charming in a different way to the rest of the house, but in a way that was hard to put his finger on at first. Saltburn was like if a place could put on a performance of itself, none of it felt lived in, or at least, not for a very long time. Except Felix's room, it had his youth and carelessness that gave it a feeling of home, as, for some reason, did Oliver's.

Except then he sees them. Then he understands. There's space stickers on the top drawer of what he can only assume is the otherwise expensive bedside table. Some are peeled off, some even leaving the ugly, half-peeled, paper residue of planets and stars and little cartoon astronauts. The second of the two drawers is in much the same state, but depicting a faded sea creature theme. It's so unexpectedly, joyfully childish. There's two books in the top drawer, a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories, and a copy of Emma. Oliver swallows hard, trying not to wonder what you must mean by that. Otherwise the drawers are empty, almost hotel-like in it's severe starkness.

There's other little things, however. Fairy lights curled up and around the headboard that glow a comforting, warm white once he finds their switch. A digital clock at odds with the rest of the room's aesthetics, red numbers glowing in the afternoon light. The painting on the wall above the bookshelf that looks far more modern than anything else he'd seen so far on the walls, a rich, blue night sky glittering with stars, and a dreamy silhouette of a figure with a cigarette almost glowing orange against the darkness. Despite the vagueness of the figure, there's a comfort, a kind of love with which they'd been captured that Oliver can somehow feel in his chest when he looks at it.

The little bookshelf itself in the corner is filled with titles he can imagine you specifically enjoying, but a few anomalies here and there - books on botany and Edwardian flower code stick out in particular. It's completed with a small stack of CDs and a CD player gathering dust on top. When he crouches down, however, he's surprised to see an old, portable cassette deck taking up space on the bottom row of the bookshelf, mostly hidden behind several stacks of what appeared to be blank cassette tapes, crammed into the very corner, almost out of sight.

How strange. How... human.

There is an echo of someone else in this room, but to his relief, it feels like you. For the barest moment, he almost feels like he's already home.

It's a short-lived feeling, however, as Felix's words come back to him once more. His reflection in the bathroom mirror as he carefully rids himself of even the barest traces of stubble, doesn't meet the standards he's sure the mother of Felix Catton must hold.

Oliver's never considered himself particularly beautiful, nor did pretty much anyone else, it had always seemed. His mother was of course biased, Felix was filled with too much affection to be considered anywhere near reliable about that sort of things, and you - something inside Oliver squirms almost with embarrassment for even thinking so poorly of himself in the past few moments. Maybe a face like his would make Felix's mum happy, if the look in your eyes meant anything, every time you saw him.

Oliver chooses to leave the way he was brought in, taking a long few moments in Felix's room, leaving it untouched, undisturbed, but treating it like a museum to his best friend, clues about his life he couldn't glean from conversation alone. Felix's bookshelves were bigger than yours, stacked with comics amid countless fantasy and adventure books, but a surprising number of cowboy and western titles, though it's not as if there appears to be any kind of sorting system. There's a ceramic bowl that looks hand made, full of faded wristbands for events all over the world for the past five years. There's a shoebox that apparently used to hold a pair of lady's runners, now sitting at the end of one row that now has 'A Stupid Box For Feefs Stupid Rocks <3' sharpied on top in handwriting he doesn't recognise. A thick textbook about space on the bottom shelf with a cracked, worn spine and sticky tabs seeming to note various pages, various guitar tab books for different, popular bands that Felix would definitely be interested in. Four decks of cards stacked on top of each other, boxes looking so worn and used they were practically falling apart.

For a very long time, Oliver finds himself caught, looking at the little cork board full of photos leaning on top of the bookshelf. Countless photos of Felix, Farleigh, Venetia, and Y/N throughout the years. He hadn't realised just how long you and Felix had even known each other. How long you'd practically been a fixture at Saltburn in the Summer. There's a photo of the four of you all in your bathers, laying asleep on the grass beside the lake, all next to each other on brightly coloured towels, none of you could have been older than twelve; you fit right in along with the rest of them.

There's a photo strip, the kind taken in a booth at a mall or a museum, that Oliver thinks he recognises, but it takes him a long moment of staring at it to figure out why. It's you and Felix, and the strip itself says it's from an aquarium. Smiling. Laughing. You blurry, covering your laughter as Felix looks particularly goofy and pleased with himself, as if he'd just told a stupid joke. The last one has been ripped off.

Oh. Right. He'd seen it while snooping through Felix's wallet a few months ago; the photo had been the reason he'd put the wallet back at all. The way the two of you were kissing in the final photo, so wrapped up in each other, and love, and joy, had made Oliver feel almost physically sick with both want and jealousy.

God, he has to leave, has to stop snooping again and actually find this library and the rest of the Cattons.

Walking through Saltburn's many rooms alone makes Oliver feel like he's constantly out of bounds at a museum. There's hints of life throughout the building, but they're few and far between compared to the ornamental, carefully curated decorations of each room. Even the hints of the Cattons themselves seemed... too purposeful. The little, animated 'Catton Family Players' puppet show is the kind of thing only rich, whimsical weirdos could ever think was charming, and not just bizarre, vain, and haunting in the same way that porcelain dolls were.

But then he hears laughter, and warm chatter from down a hall, and the tinny, purposeful shouting from what could only be a movie or TV show. It sounds so much like his own family's living room on a cheerful evening that it's almost relaxing. Almost.

Because as he's approaching, he realises they're talking about him. They're picking apart the life he'd fed Felix as if it were mere gossip, speaking so airily, their sentiment so clearly out of touch that he'd probably find it amusing if he didn't have to pretend to be living it. Briefly, he wonders if they spoke like this about your life, or if the novelty of you had worn off in the years before. Perhaps you were just glad they could focus their pity and unapologetic classicism on someone else for a change; he couldn't hear you in there, which surprised him. Maybe part of him had expected you to defend him the way you had back at Oxford. Maybe you don't feel like you can at Saltburn. At least Felix sounds embarrassed, irritated as he admonishes Farleigh for having told the rest of the family.

Before he enters the library where the rest of the family has gathered, Oliver pauses by the door, both to get a better idea of what they're already thinking about him, but also because he'd spotted someone watching him from one of the adjacent rooms.

Bleach blonde hair, stars clinging to the tights on her legs, she's reading a book that Oliver can't quite see the cover of. Venetia was written on the collar of the little, blonde puppet in the Catton Family Players; Oliver suspects this is her. Oliver thinks she could be considered very beautiful, if she didn't seem quite so sharp. The way she huffs a laugh and wears a dangerously amused smile after she'd taken her own time in analysing him seems to prove as much. That being said, Oliver's not sure if she's laughing at something about him, or about the fact that they can both clearly hear her family's disparaging remarks about his apparent upbringing.

"Farleigh seems to think he's ghastly," Oliver hears a woman say as his hand comes to rest on the door handle, "why are you and our dear pet even friends with him, darling?"

"Dirt poor, not attractive, and his parents are drug addicts," a second woman's voice seems to surmise as Oliver lets himself into the room, "I can't actually -" but Felix makes a noise as he sees the door opening, and the woman goes quiet as Oliver peers in.

"And here he is now," Farleigh sounds as thrilled as he ever was to see Oliver, "we were just talking about you," like he's trying his best to make Oliver feel as unwelcome as possible. It's... kind of working. Bastard. However looking over at him does solve one mystery; you and Farleigh are sharing a sofa at the back of the room that's only just big enough for the both of you as long as you're tucked up against him, his arm slung over the back of the chair behind you.

And you're fast asleep against him.

The blonde woman on the sofa who shares Felix's elegant, effortless beauty admonishes Farleigh, even though Oliver can tell from her voice she was one of the ones very much talking about him only moments before. Oliver has the grace to pretend like he hadn't heard, though is still glad for the vaguely embarrassed, apologetic look Felix is already giving him.

This has to be Felix's mother, the blonde with the airy voice who immediately gets up to greet him, to assess him.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes," oh thank god, "oh, how wonderful!" There's genuine surprise and adoration in the way Felix's mother regards him, and Oliver can't help but feel relieved, like he's finally passed the first of what he's sure will be many tests during his life at the Saltburn estate.

"Yeah, we told you he wasn't a minger," Felix pointed out when his mother turns to him.

"Oh, but darling, you and pet are kind about everyone; neither of you can be trusted about those you're fond of." Pet? Does she mean Y/N? Suddenly Farleigh's comments over the months make a strange amount of sense. At the very least Oliver's heart begins to sing at the idea of you and Felix speaking so kindly of him to the others that they know you're both especially fond of him... And you both seem to think he's beautiful enough that you mention it when he's not around. Huh.

But yes, the moment the woman explains her aborrance of ugliness Oliver knows he's talking to Felix's mother. At least she seems to like him well enough, going so far as to ask if he'd seen Venetia yet, that even she'd been dying to see him, but had chosen to drape herself around the house as if laying in wait for him. Indeed that's how it had seemed when he'd spotted her earlier, but none of them have let Oliver get a word in edgewise.

Felix's father is the next to introduce himself, all long limbs and warm handshake to match his smile, just like his son. When he asks Oliver about his trip to the estate, Oliver finally breathes, can finally respond.

"Oh, God, don't with the 'sirs'," Felix's mother waves him over to sit down, insisting, "no, no, no, we can't stand anything like that here," though her outburst seems to have been enough to rouse you. As Oliver sits, he hears, syrupy and warm with sleep from behind him -

"Ollie!" As you had each time since he's arrived, you sound so genuinely delightful. Farleigh makes a noise in the back of his throat. Oliver turns in time to see you elbow Farleigh in the ribs.

"I liked you better when you were asleep."

"Fars," your voice drops low, like a warning, and Oliver's surprised by how sharply Farleigh looks away, jaw clenching tightly, "be good." Oliver almost thinks Farleigh might be angry, but then he sees the gentle way Farleigh's holding your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against your upper arm; from what Oliver can see, he realises Farleigh's expression is almost embarrassed -

"Children, stop bickering," Felix's mother orders brightly, and your expression returns to unbothered and chipper as you refocus on Oliver.

"Hi Ollie," again, then as more of an offer to the rest of the room, "isn't he just lovely?" Oliver flushes, but gives you a fond smile, even as you settle back against Farleigh. Even though Farleigh persists with glaring at him, when he turns back, he rests his cheek against your head, oozing malevolence as he seemingly tucks himself against you too. But he does indeed remain quiet.

After the altercation passes, Oliver gets a brief introduction to one of the other house guests at Saltburn, Pamela, brief being the operative word as she's quickly sent away to ask about tea from one of the staff members at Felix's mother's insistence. Pamela herself doesn't exactly seem confident in the task, but that's once again when you speak up. Much to Oliver's surprise, you give a detailed physical description of the woman - Annie - and succinct directions to the kitchen itself, following it up with a yawn and -

"The Irish one, a bit mousy, might have trouble meeting your gaze but she's nice enough."

Pamela looks far more confident thanks to your directions. Oliver's genuinely shocked at your level of detail and knowledge, but everyone else seems to be so casually used to it.

"She is a bit like that, isn't she?" Felix's mother muses with an idle air, and when Oliver glances back at you, you still have your eyes closed, as if close to falling back asleep, while Farleigh has his faint, fond laughter pressed against your temple.

Before Oliver can even reckon with the moment that had just come to pass, Felix's mother is regaling him with all of Pamela's dirty laundry, before she dives right into pitying Oliver himself, and the sob story of his life and most recent 'tragedy' she's heard.

She looks at him just the same way Felix had. He think of the moment he'd decided to commit to this Dickensian kayfabe, that day in the pub when Felix's eyes were fixed on him, all pity and desire and a desperate need to fix, to save, to be a light in Oliver's life. The way this woman speaks, the way she looks at him in this moment, makes Felix Catton make total and complete sense. Something inside Oliver relaxes; she would not be hard won.

As they circle back around to the tragedy of poor Pamela, however, something about what Farleigh says, pointing out that the tragedy of her was the only interesting thing about her, sticks in the back of Oliver's mind.

Being beautiful and tragic would only ever get him so far, would only ever make him a novelty. It takes another glance back at you for him to realise a little more of why you behaved the way you did; tragic and beautiful and useful. That's the thought that turns over in his mind, even as Felix's mother starts her line of questioning about the sordid details of his upbringing, and Venetia joins them only to stare at him like a bug, and Farleigh only seems to be holding himself back from outright contempt at your behest. You are once again asleep. At least Felix makes a token effort to reprimand his mother, not that it appears to make much of a difference.

Oliver offers what little he can get away with, and feels only relief when Felix insists they start getting ready for dinner. Oliver practically bolts, he doesn't even wait for Felix like he probably should have, just desperately hoping he's got the right door to his own room. Clearly he has, swearing when he's finally in his little piece of sanctuary, but after a beat he realises that even that has been breached.

His suitcase is no longer at the foot of his bed.

In another moment, the door that connects his room to the bathroom squeaks open and there's two more people in his room without bothering to even knock. At least Felix is apologising for his mother. Part of Oliver thinks he should have expected the Cattons to be exactly as out of touch as this house implied, that he should have braced himself better, that it's not Felix's fault, but the apology is still nice.

Also he's rather distracted by the fact that all of his clothes have been organised neatly in the old, wooden cupboard.

"Did someone unpack my suitcase?" Oliver hears himself ask distractedly. Looking back when Felix makes a noise of guilt, he sees Felix sitting on the edge of his bed with an apologetic smile, and you next to him, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Uh, shit, yes, I should have told you," Felix admits, "they do that kind of thing here." Rich, whimsical weirdos, the lot of them, "the maids all report back to mum, by the way," Felix informs him, while you're just quietly swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. Felix's tone turns teasing, however, "so I hope you didn't pack anything scandalous." Oliver leans on the wooden foot of the bed, into Felix's space with an amused smile at the thought - pushing his luck, pushing into Felix's space to play off of the idea of scandal, so close to Felix and his mischievous smile. Felix leans back, the tease, giving Oliver space to quietly say -

"Just my old boxers."

You snicker. Felix grins.

"No, they're used to that, don't worry," but then Felix is up again, almost too close, looking at Oliver like he knows this is all some kind of joke, like he know - like he wants Oliver to keep looking at him, at his teasing smile, at his lips like that, "Duncan will be thrilled." Like this is all a game. Oliver snorts a laugh.

But the moment doesn't last, and Felix is moving again, getting up, telling Oliver a new rule - ahead of time this time. Dinner at Saltburn is an event you dress for, with the kind of dress code that requires a dinner jacket and cuff links and - Oliver would be properly embarrassed if it didn't mean he got to wear Felix's spare jacket. Felix seems almost embarrassed by it all, his casual nature clearly butting heads with the formality of his heritage. In this moment he almost seems childish, it's rather sweet. Judging by your smile, you're endeared by his behaviour without even having to see it; you hadn't even thought to sit up; your eyes have fallen closed, as if basking in this moment.

Oliver watches you, the way you radiate contentment. You were not born into Saltburn, but you'd made it your home. You'd won the love of Felix Catton, and a place in his life, that no-one else had managed to achieve. Hope was a beautiful thing, and you were both in this moment.

"I'm really happy you're here, Ol," Felix finally murmured, and finally Oliver believes him, "I'm sorry everything's so... old fashioned."

"No," Oliver's voice is soft, "it's wonderful."

The pleased smile Felix wears as he heads through to his own room makes everything about this strange, ritualistic, obsessive, critical world worth it. Over his shoulder, he asks if you'll be coming through too, and you tell him you'll catch up in a second. Felix closes the door over quietly, and after a moment, Oliver joins you, laying back on the bed.

"I like your room," Oliver breaks the silence after a moment. After a moment, a hum that's more like a contented laugh escapes you. You mumble a thanks; it's been a few hours since he'd seen you initially, your chatter had died down considerably, it seemed like you'd sobered up a good deal in the afternoon that had just passed.

There's a million things Oliver wants to say in this moment, things he wants to do, questions he has about you, about Felix, about Saltburn.

"It's not-" he finally starts, voice so soft as he finally turns to you, "it wasn't your fault, by the way."

When you turn to meet his gaze, there's surprise and confusion in your eyes, clearly not sure what he was referring to. Its been a long time now since he'd deliberately reached out for you, since you'd slept together, since Felix had first started giving him resentful looks. Things are better now. Much better.

"What?"

All it takes is a deliberate, gentle touch, his hand taking yours, apology in his eyes. Its enough to acknowledge that he'd spent time pulled away from you, that you weren't crazy to think that, and that you weren't at fault.

Oliver's always liked watching you process things, at least when you allow the world to see it happen on your face, not making an effort to hide it. You look down at his hand on yours, grip loose like more of a reassurance; raising your joined hands like you can't quite believe the sight, he takes the opportunity to link your fingers. It wasn't your fault.

Looking deliberately back at the ceiling, he gives you the time and space to process this development without feeling so watched.

"Oh," you mumble quietly, finally, "it's..." you give his hand a squeeze, "thanks?" Oliver smiles, and knows you see it, can see in his peripheries the way you're watching him now, but when he goes to withdraw his hand, you hold him tighter for just a beat, as if on instinct, before you let him go.

"Can I be bold for a moment?" He breaks the moment, breaks the tension, voice light and inquisitive.

"I like your boldness, Ollie, you know that," you respond automatically, matching his energy easily. Sitting up, Oliver turns to fix you with a scrutinising look for a long moment, and you wait, you watch him with eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted across your lips.

"You're sleeping with Farleigh," it's not a question. Your smile grows wider and far more smug.

"Ollie - Oliver - look at me," you prop yourself up on one elbow, gesturing down at your body, "look at where we are," you gesture around at the bedroom itself, "how many Summers do you think unrelated teenagers in close proximity, growing steadily more attractive with each passing year, can get through without ending up deciding to fuck to pass the time?"

Oliver, charmed by your blunt confidence, can't help but laugh, while also being able to connect enough dots to the implication that he should expect you to be just as close to Felix's sister too. You join him in his laughter, finally sitting yourself up. Oliver knocks his knee with yours, deliberate, and watches with a kind of fondness as you immediately focus on the moment of brief contact. You'd missed him, just as he'd anticipated.

But the laughter dies down, and you finally stand, sighing that you should probably get yourself ready for dinner too. Before stepping away, you lean back down with a wide, goofy smile that reminds Oliver a bit of Felix, and gently grasp his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oliver, a little startled by the gesture but welcoming it nonetheless, feels want burn through his veins momentarily as he watches you head to the door.

"Oh, Ollie, there's some stuff under the sink for you," you yawned and stretched and Oliver tried desperately not to stare at the way your shirt rode up, "shampoo, toothpaste, contacts; junk like that, you know, just in case." Wait, what was that last one?

"Contacts?"

"Yeah," like it was perfectly fucking reasonable, your hand on the door, "in case you didn't bring any or you ran out - there's actually a spare pair of glasses as well, if you'd prefer. Same frames as yours, I wasn't sure-"

"You know my prescription?"

"Yeah?"

"How...?"

You go quiet. You shrug. Its not a real answer.

Right; a magician never reveals their secrets. Its not particularly reassuring for a man lying about a large portion of his life.

For now Oliver just tries to remind himself of the way you look at him, the way you want him, the way he loves you, for who you are, for all you can do.

"Thank you," he says quietly, gives you a smile and hopes you believe it, "you're good to me." He's not sure what about that surprises you, but he catalogues this in the back of his mind. There's something beautiful and, he suspects, rare, about catching you off guard. But your next words are enough to return the favour, have his heartbeat in his ears, hopeful and quick as a humming bird right before you leave.

"Of course I am, Ollie, I love you."

And he's not sure why, but he believes you.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #saltburn imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

181 notes · View notes

sunkiss3dlily · 3 months

Text

to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) part four | joel miller x reader

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5916

Summary: Time is running out for you in the fight against David. Joel comes to your rescue.

Note(s): Okay, so now it's become five parts. I should just never set a goal for how many chapters I'm writing because I always exceed it hahahaha but at least Joel and reader are reunited!! I'm not gonna lie this took so long to write because I hated writing for David. He is so creepy and I felt so gross. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and I promise this time, the next chapter will be the last haha! Thank you for all the love I'm so grateful! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981 @oscarisaac2099 @stilllivindue2spite @aspecialgreenie @amyispxnk @caitlynsixxx

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The bitter cold stole your every sense of direction in the relentless blizzard, pushing you to stumble aimlessly through the thick snow, much like you had the day before, only this time you were no longer the hunter but the prey.

All around, the storm howled, and your every step was one of desperation in the search for any sign of David and James' group.

"Stay alert, everybody; if this man's not already dead, he's dangerous." David's voice calling out from the other end of the street had you bolting to hide behind a fence, your rifle clutched steadily in your hand. "And the woman too; she can’t be fully trusted, either."

Clutching your rifle, you took a shaky breath, straining your hearing to catch the next set of orders.

“What about the little girl?” James' voice cut through the harsh wind, and a surge of protectiveness swelled within you at the mention of Ellie. You silently vowed not to let any of them get near her—not one step.

“We bring her back with us." David responds. "Her, and the woman.”

"Try it, motherfucker," you muttered, biding your time as they started advancing down your end of the street, where you remained safely hidden, at least for the moment. There was no need to risk wasting bullets and missing a shot; you had to be smart about this.

A loud scoff cuts through the air, and a voice that you haven't heard before rings out: "That woman will kill us all in our goddamn sleep if we let her stay with us."

"Yeah, I agree," James cuts in soon after. "I don't mean to question your sense of mercy, David, but we can kill the man and the woman and just let the little girl go. If we bring that little girl back with us, she's just another mouth to feed."

You peek out, taking your aim and squeezing one eye shut.

"If we leave either of them out here, they'll die," David chastises, still seemingly set on having you and Ellie come back with him.

As if you'd let that happen.

James scoffed, and as the group approached, you could now count their numbers.

Five.

You watched as James bitterly shook his head, and almost instinctively, you raised your rifle, focusing on the moving target. "Maybe that's God's will."

David's head snapped to look at his taller friend, but before he could speak, your first shot rang out.

James practically folded in on himself, the bullet finding its mark right between his eyes. Genuine shock registered on David's face before a darker expression replaced it just as swiftly. The other four members of the group looked around in utter bewilderment, raising their weapons and expressing a mix of fear, anger, and shock.

"Holy shit!"

"What the fuck do we do, David?!"

"They killed James!"

Too preoccupied reloading your rifle, you didn't notice David's eyes settling on the neck of your gun, which was slightly peeking out from behind the fence.

"Split up. Find the house they're staying in and get that little girl back to me alive. I'll take care of the woman."

As the three scatter in different directions, you finally look up, and that's when you notice David approaching the fence, his own gun at the ready, aimed and dangerous.

You feel it before you hear it—the burning sensation as the bullet rips through your coat and shirt, sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The sickening whoosh of the bullet through the air is only heard after. Had your senses been more in tune, perhaps you would have dodged it. Instead, a muffled cry of pain escapes your lips as you slam them together, forcing yourself into a standing yet crouched position. Running along the back of the fence, you do your best to ignore both the pain and the sensation of your blood coating your fingers, compressing the wound as you move, the rifle held limply in the hand of your injured arm.

"Get back here!"

Your legs turn to jelly as you sprint through the snow, heading straight for one of the houses. Despite the intensifying pain in your shoulder, you strive to keep your cool. Bullets whiz dangerously close to your tattered boots, narrowly missing as you move just a fraction too quickly for David's shooting ability.

“It doesn’t have to be this hard!”

Gasping for breath, you reach cover at the side of a nearby house, pressing your back against the cold exterior. The bitter wind bites at your exposed skin as you take a moment to assess the wound on your shoulder, your fingers coming away stained with blood. You reach back, whimpering to yourself as you feel the unmistakable hole in your shirt and coat, realising that, for one small mercy, the bullet has gone straight through.

"I didn't want to hurt you." David's voice echoes chillingly close, urging you to retreat to the back of the house. As you hastily assess for an entry point, he adds with a sinister tone, "You forced my hand."

Despite the searing pain in your shoulder and the fear gnawing at your senses, a twisted sense of relief settles in as you reach the back of the house. The knowledge that it's you who David is pursuing, and not Joel or Ellie, somehow grants you a twisted comfort.

“There’s no need to keep fighting me like this. It’s pointless.”

With trembling hands, you fumble to open the door, your mind racing faster than your jittery heartbeat.

The wooden door creaks open, revealing the dim interior of the house. Staggering under the weight of pain and panic, you stumble inside, the world spinning as you navigate the all-too-familiar surroundings from when you were desperately searching for any first aid for Joel the day prior, so you already know there is nothing here that is going to help you. The urgency of your situation intensifies, and you quickly slam the door behind you closed.

The house offers a brief respite from the relentless blizzard and the immediate threat of David's pursuit. As you move deeper into the residence, your unsteady footsteps echo against the worn floorboards. The muted sounds of the storm outside contrast with the thunderous beating of your heart.

A narrow staircase comes into view, and with each step, your legs feel heavier, like lead. The ascent is a gruelling task, with your battered body protesting with every movement. As you reach the top, you catch your breath, realising the vulnerability of your situation. You're wounded and isolated, and you're at the mercy of your surroundings and David.

Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you push forward, weaving through the upper floor. The pain in your shoulder becomes an unbearable companion, gnawing at your resolve, and your vision blurs. A distant bedroom beckons, and you stumble towards it, guided more by instinct than conscious thought.

With each step, the world becomes more of a blurry haze. You push the bedroom door open with a light swing, revealing your final refuge from the chaos. Collapsing against the far wall, behind a double bed, you sink to the floor, your breaths ragged and laboured. The room spins around you as you succumb to the exhaustion, your body finally finding a momentary sanctuary amid the turmoil.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The unmistakable echo of a gunshot reached Joel's ears, shattering the relative silence of the basement and snapping him out of the uneasy rest he had slipped into.

It felt like just moments ago that he had watched you leave, resolute in facing danger to protect him and Ellie. The mental image of you willingly sacrificing yourself for their safety wound around his heart like barbed wire, each beat accentuating his feelings of pain and helplessness. Staring at the closed door, he had been consumed by profound desperation, silently yearning for you to turn around and come back to them, to him. But, as the seconds ticked away, it became clear you weren't coming back.

Ellie's eyes had met his, her dark pools of pleading tears watching him as the weight of sleep threatened to pull him under.

"Joel! Wake the fuck up! We have to go!"

Suddenly, Ellie was gripping his shirt, the surge of adrenaline from the shock of it all combatting the heaviness of his slumber. The gunshot's resonance wasn't just a haunting echo of his nightmares about Sarah; it was the stark reality now centred around you. Whether you were the shooter or the one being shot at, Joel couldn't allow himself to stand, or rather lay, by while you faced danger, even in his weakened state.

"Joel!" Ellie repeated, shaking him just as furiously as before. "Fuck, wait a second."

She disappeared from his sight for a moment, peripherals included, and for some twisted reason inside of him, the thought of her leaving too made him even more scared. He couldn't lose both of you.

"Ellie," he called hoarsely.

She was back within a few moments, seemingly fueled by the sound of his voice as she kneeled beside him, syringe and medicine bottle in hand. "Yeah, I'm here. Just give me a minute. I've never done this before."

He held still, barely breathing as the needle pricked his wound once more, not wanting to freak the kid out any more than she already was.

"Ellie," he repeated. Her eyes fell to his as she continued to plunge the syringe slowly, just as she had watched you do so many times. Her dark eyes were still watery and held so much fear that she attempted to hide with her otherwise stoic expression, barring the slight trembling of her lips. "It's...it's gonna be okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, though her gaze fell away from him as if she didn't believe him. "I know."

Silence settled between them, a void that you typically filled. As Ellie withdrew the syringe, returning it along with the medicine to her bag, the echo of a second gunshot pierced the air, prompting them to exchange uneasy glances.

The heavy footsteps from above spurred Joel into action, breaking the inertia that had held him for days. He staggered to his feet, his unsteady legs protesting disuse, and gently guided Ellie into the corner beneath the stairs. Pressing his rifle into her hands, he saw the horror in her eyes. A shake of his head preceded his retrieval of her knife from the bag.

"If anything goes wrong, you shoot and run, alright?" Her mouth opened, but he silenced any objections, his tone unwavering. "No. No questions, no smart remarks. You run."

Joel's voice carried a resolute authority, his eyes revealing a blend of concern and determination. Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the rifle as she comprehended the gravity of the situation.

The clamour above intensified, muffled voices now accompanied by the crash of furniture in front of the basement door.

Time seemed to stretch as they waited, breaths suspended in anticipation. As the footsteps finally seemed to reach the top of the stairs and the door opened, Joel whispered one final directive, his voice barely audible.

"Face the wall."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

A tender touch, brushing hair away from your forehead, coaxes you back to awareness. Initially feeling numb, the haze lifts as you blink away blurriness, and the searing pain in your wound snaps into focus. A cry escapes your lips, and instinctively, you reach to cover the injury, as if the pressure could quell the pain. Surprisingly, a make-shift bandage is wrapped around the bare skin of your shoulder, and as you withdraw your hand, you find no fresh blood, only the remnants of dried staining from before.

A fleeting sense of relief washes over you when you suddenly realise someone is taking care of you; you've been saved.

"You were lucky; I'll give you that."

Anticipating Joel's deep, somewhat soothing tone, the sudden and chilling sound of David's higher voice jolted you. Startled, you looked up and blinked rapidly, only to find the devil himself kneeling in front of you, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Getting the jump on us like that. It was smart." He chuckled slightly, unsettling you further, prompting an instinctive flex of your fingers to search for your rifle. It must have been moved, and you think you can see the handle just behind him on the bed. The sheet on top of the mattress appears to be torn, evidently being what was used to conceal your wound. "I won't say it'll earn you many brownie points with the folks back home, but I understand. I understand why you did it."

You draw in a shaky breath, attempting to breathe through the pain and panic, while desperately searching your mind for any semblance of a plan.

David withdraws his hand from your cheek, replacing it with two fingers on your neck's pulse point, holding them there for a moment. "You know, I was worried you weren't going to wake up at all."

You make your best attempt to shrug him off, disliking the sensation of his cold fingertips on your skin. Despite your weakness, you glare up at him and retort, "You should be more worried than I was."

He smiles with a glint of amusement in his eyes, and you despise the gut-wrenching feeling of vulnerability blooming in your chest at the notion of being stuck in this man's presence. A chuckle escapes him, and he sucks his teeth before raising his hand, causing your head to snap to the side as the back of his hand connects with your cheek, a ring on his finger slashing your cheek upon impact.

Stunned to silence, you manage only a few heavy breaths as blood dribbles down your cheek. Eventually, you compose yourself enough to meet his gaze once more.

David releases a heavy sigh, observing you with a gaze that combines pity and satisfaction as he sits back on his knees.

“I like you. I do."

You glare back at him, biting back a snide comment.

He smiles, releasing a soft chuckle. “You’re so much different from the women back in my village. They’re so docile, complacent, and scared of their own shadows. You, on the other hand, are feral. Violent. A murderer.”

You swallow uncomfortably, unsettled by the excited glint in his eyes as he gazes at you.

“I like that. It’s realistic. A woman who does what she has to do to get what she wants. It’s the only way to survive, right?” David smiles, reaching out to clasp your limp hand that sits on your lap. “We’re very similar in that way. We do what we have to do to provide for the people who rely on us. No matter what, right?”

You fight the urge to snap his fingers in your palm, feeling his thumb stroking roughly over your skin, a poor imitation of Joel's comforting touch from only hours ago.

“You see, I’m not your enemy here.” He whispers in an attempt at a soothing tone. “I never have been. In fact, I am your equal, and in being that, I believe you would make the perfect addition to stand by my side in leading our people through the darkness that this winter has brought.”

You shake your head, but he raises a hand and emits a shushing noise.

“I know. It’s a hard concept to grasp when you’re in this fight-or-flight headspace. I’m sure you feel you won’t be accepted by them for all your sins and for all the heartache you’ve brought to our community, but they, as well as you, will come to understand, in good time, that reformation is indeed possible.” He squeezes your hand tight—so tight that it becomes uncomfortable very quickly. You breathe your way through the pain. “And if you can’t, then you can provide for our community in another way.” He lifts his other hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My people are hungry, you see. I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn't do what I needed to provide for them, despite sacrificing what would be the closest thing I have to my equal. You understand the necessity of that, right?”

A sickening feeling churns in your stomach. Whatever he has in mind for you is likely nothing you want to endure. You bite your tongue, resolved to maintain composure and conceal your fear.

“And then, I suppose, your daughter will be the one to take your place beside me.”

Your entire body tenses, and he seems to notice the fire blazing in your eyes at the mention of Ellie, a light smirk settling on his lips.

Quick to wipe it off, you wrap your palm around his middle finger and tug it back with all the strength you can muster, causing a sickening crack as it breaks, ricocheting around you. He lets out an anguished cry of pain, filling you with relentless satisfaction. As he releases your hand entirely, you shove him backward and use the wall to guide you to your feet.

Rushing for your rifle, your movements are short-lived as you feel his hand wrap around your ankle, grabbing hold of you. Swinging your arm around to hit him, he tugs you forcefully via your arm, causing you to flop face down on the floor beside him.

Releasing angry pants, he flips you over onto your back and uses his free hand to press down on your wound, keeping you down and eliciting a cry of unbearable pain from your lips.

“There it is. There’s that fight in you I like so much.”

You spit at him, aiming directly for his face, and raise your knee to strike him in the crotch. He releases your wound, and you take a sharp intake of breath, readying your hand to deliver a strike to his face. But he's too quick, grabbing your wrist and yanking it hard, exerting so much force that you feel your arm being ripped out of its socket.

A blinding wave of pain overwhelms you, bringing all your struggles to an instant halt. Your pain threshold has been entirely depleted. You're done fighting. It's all too much.

He clears his throat as he shifts to hold himself above you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and disappointment as he looks down at you.

“Is that all you’ve got in you?” He laughed breathlessly. “I’m disappointed. Underneath all that strong facade, you’re just the same as every other woman. Weak. I should’ve known you’d end up just the same: under my mercy."

Your strength waned, unable to conceal the overwhelming fear as his weight bore down on you, and instead, you opened your mouth, releasing a gut-wrenching scream.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

It was guttural—the scream that tore through the streets—and it sent a shiver down Joel's spine. Ellie was huddled at his side, his arm protectively encircling her, marking the first substantial contact between them. The moment he tensed, he felt her reaction mirror his own.

Joel held tight to Callus' reins in his other hand. Although logic dictated that he and Ellie should be riding towards your safety, the events in the basement lingered in Joel's mind. Forcing two out of three men to reveal your whereabouts, even with Ellie upstairs and out of direct earshot, it had been a traumatic ordeal for the both of them. Joel couldn't deny Ellie the comfort of being close to him after such a harrowing experience. Contrary to his initial fears, it became evident that Ellie wasn't terrified of him; in fact, the very opposite seemed true.

'"That's her," Ellie said through chattering teeth as the biting winds whipped around them. "We have to help her."

Joel nodded, his gaze firm and determined, tugging Callus along once more. "We will. We'll get to her."

Once again, your scream, fraught with fear and desperation, reverberated through the desolate streets. The chilling sound momentarily froze time, leaving Joel feeling utterly helpless about where to go or how to reach you. The haunting silence that followed became almost unbearable, casting an oppressive weight on Joel's chest, which he tried to ignore with every stride he took, Ellie in tow.

Abruptly, just as it had ceased, your screaming resumed, and Joel couldn't summon the strength to look down, yet he could feel Ellie's tears soaking his shirt. Each agonising note sliced through the air, and this time, it seemed to pierce Joel even more deeply than before. The raw, visceral sound of your distress clawed at his heart, dismantling any remaining walls that held back his emotions towards you. He despised that sound—the sound of you in pain, the sound of you scared, the sound of you broken—and silently vowed to do whatever it took to never hear it again.

However, amidst the torment, there existed a perverse sense of gratitude. Your screams served as a guiding force, leading Joel, Ellie, and Callus through the relentless blizzard in pursuit of you. A steely resolve tightened Joel's jaw, determination etched across his weathered face as you fell silent once more, only to start screaming again seconds later. The idea of you enduring suffering was unbearable, and an urgency to reach you surged through Joel's veins, propelling their movements forward through the biting cold.

Reaching the front of the house from which your screams echoed, Joel gently pulled away from Ellie's trembling frame. He tried to ignore the way she instinctively sought to move closer, holding her by the shoulders. "I need you to listen to me, Ellie."

Her face was pale, tear-stricken, and concerned, lacking the strength to argue. She nodded in response.

"I need you to ride Callus to the furthest house away, to the very last one in this neighbourhood, okay? Not one sooner. The very last one."

Her lips parted, wobbling, but your scream from above tore every word from the tip of her tongue. She made her way to Callus, placing one foot in the stirrup before Joel helped launch her onto the horse completely. He held back a wince as his wound ached with every movement, and raised his rifle for her to take.

"I'll come and find you as soon as we're out. You don't leave for anything. You stay right there, hidden, until we come back. Got it?"

Ellie took the rifle, slugging it onto shoulder, before gripping Callus' reins and nodding. "Got it."

"Good." He hummed, stroking Callus' side before meeting Ellie's eyes. "Go on."

She simply sniffled, murmuring, "Let's go," to the horse before she and Callus thundered off down the street.

Joel watched as Ellie rode away, his rifle slung over her shoulder, and as he turned back towards the house, it took him about a second to realise you were no longer making any noise, and it only took half of that time to send him into utter panic.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The carpet beneath your fingernails was the only sensation you registered as David's hand coiled around your throat, tightening its grip and stifling any more attempts at screaming.

You weren't fighting back anymore. You couldn't. You'd lost it all the moment David had you pinned down and injured. The likelihood of Joel succumbing to the brutality of David's men gnawed at your conscience. Imagining Ellie, now alone and convinced you were lost too, fighting desperately to escape their clutches added another layer of anguish to your already shattered resolve. You didn't want to risk that becoming a truth, and so you just lay there.

Time seemed to stretch with each agonising blink, your eyes lingering shut for longer intervals. As David's suffocating grip on your throat gradually released, you struggled to focus through the haze. His lips moved, likely weaving a twisted soliloquy, but the only sound that reached you was the persistent thud of blood coursing through your veins. Each breath you managed to draw felt like a desperate attempt to refill your lungs, your chest heaving with the effort.

His vice-like grip on your neck finally released, and as you dared to steal a glance downward, all you saw was his hand moving towards his zipper.

You clutched at the carpet, fingers digging in, and drew in a wheezy breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come next.

David's face and body loomed over you, paralysing you with fear. Just as you thought it was all over, the sudden impact of your rifle against the side of his head sent his looming figure crashing to the floor beside you. Through the haze of your vision, you could vaguely make out a blurry figure in a brown coat gripping your rifle and ruthlessly slamming it down repeatedly onto what appeared to be David's body.

Unable to discern many words, you could only catch snippets of angry and pained sounds. Fear gripped you, but in a moment of reprieve, you managed to turn on your side. For perhaps the first time since you woke up, you felt a semblance of relief, as if you could finally afford to breathe again.

Your body ached, and your lungs burned with each precious breath of fresh air, reminiscent of a dog lapping up water on a scorching day. Curled into a foetal position, the only sounds that reached your ears were the haunting echoes of sniffles and whimpering. It didn't take long for you to grasp the painful realisation that those anguished sounds were escaping your own lips.

A hand gripping your ankle jolts you into immediate action, fearing the worst. A distressed wail escapes your lips as you kick out, refusing to glance at the person who has a hold of you. Slowly crawling away, you use your uninjured arm to support yourself, doing your best to fight the searing pain flowing through you.

The hand lets up, and then it moves to land delicately on your back. Gentle and light, it hovers, assuring you of his presence.

Everything seems to move once more in slow motion as you continue to kick out, eventually flipping onto your side and meeting your would-be assailant's eyes once more.

Except it's not David.

It's Joel.

His lips are parted, and he is speaking to you softly. His face is taut with concern, distress, and fear.

"..'s me; it's just me. It's me."

The sound of relief escaping you doesn't come close to the immense relief flooding your insides.

As Joel senses the realisation dawning in your eyes, his expression eases slightly, a fraction of his concern dissipating.

You can't help but avert your gaze, your eyes falling upon David's battered body lying a short distance away. The butt of your rifle, stained with his blood, rests by his side. It's evident that Joel has discarded it and hurried to your aid.

His touch on your cheek is gentle, coaxing you to meet his gaze once more.

"Look at me," he urges, his voice a comforting murmur. "You're okay. You're with me. Just keep your eyes on me. Keep focusing on me."

Your lip trembles. "J-Joel...he…he…”

"I know," he murmurs softly, his face etched with pain as he gently covers your hand with his own on the floor. The gesture makes you flinch involuntarily, and memories of David flood your mind. "I know, honey. I know."

Honey.

The term is uttered with such tenderness, so delicately, that it catches you off guard. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he regards you with the utmost care, as if he can hardly believe he's reached you in time.

Tears stream down your cheeks, unnoticed, until you feel his arms enveloping you. It's surprising the sheer gentleness emanating from a man hardened by years of violence, his fists having shed blood from countless adversaries. Yet here he is, cradling you as though you're the most precious gift, as if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as though he was born to love and protect you, no matter the time it took for him to realise it.

His hand finds solace in your matted hair, anchoring you to him as you weep against his chest. For a long while, he remains silent, allowing your sorrow to seep into him as if, by some miracle, it might alleviate your pain. You feel a shift in his posture, and then his chapped lips brush gently against your forehead.

Drawing back slightly from the comfort of his embrace, you meet his gaze.

"You're... you're alive," you breathe out softly.

The corners of his lips twitch up a little, and he nods gently down at you. "Your stubborn ass saved me, remember?"

"I... I had to. I couldn't... couldn't lose you," you respond, still teary-eyed. Your gaze darts around frantically for a moment. "E—Ellie? Where's Ellie? Did they get Ellie?"

Joel shakes his head quickly. "We... I got 'em, I swear. They didn't touch her. She's safe."

"They... they were really bad people, Joel," you whisper, a slight desperation in your voice, as if you need him to believe you, though you have no idea why you feel the need to justify it. "Really bad. They... they... the things he wanted to do."

Your gaze starts to drift back to David's body, but Joel gently redirects your focus to him with a tender touch on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the blood from where David's ring had cut your skin. "No, no. Don't look at him, alright? Just keep looking at me and listening, okay? Focus right here on me and me only."

You nod, your attention fixed on him.

“You did good, sweetheart. You did so good. You saved me and Ellie, and…and you’re still here with us. It was always going to be your life over any of theirs. You did what you had to do.”

Weakly, you nod and rest your trembling hand on his arm.

He glances down at your hand, resting his own atop it, and takes a breath. Using the next few moments to assess your condition, he notices the blood-soaked sheet wrapped around your shoulder, his face paling considerably. Then, his gaze falls on the swollen part of your arm where David has torn it from its socket.

He releases your hand and rises to his feet, prompting a soft cry of his name from you, as if he might leave you in that state.

"I'm right here. You're okay," he assures you, reaching down to cup your cheek. "I just need to... I need to help you. You're hurt, sweetheart. Just keep your eyes on me. I'm not going anywhere; I just need to..."

Glancing over to the bed, where the ripped sheet lies, he reluctantly lets go of you and strides over to retrieve it. Returning to your side, he offers reassurance. "See? I'm still here."

You watch him carefully as he tears the fabric apart with his bare hands, studying his every move.

"Joel," you say softly at first, catching his attention only when you repeat his name with a bit more urgency.

"Yeah, what's up?" He responds, turning to you.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here."

His worried expression softens, though concern still lingers in his gentle brown eyes. After a moment's pause, he replies, "Me too, honey." Taking a breath, he continues, "Now, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me, okay?"

You weakly nod your agreement.

"Just stay still while I see what I can do about your arm, alright?" he instructs.

He shakily reaches over to lightly press your swollen, deformed-looking arm, retracting his hand almost immediately when you cry out in pain. The anguish in his eyes mirrors your own hurt, and once the wave of pain has passed, you grasp his coat with your uninjured hand, murmuring your apologies.

"It's okay, it's okay," he reassures you softly, cupping your cheek and meeting your gaze with his intense one. "I need you to trust me for a second, okay? This is going to hurt, but you are going to be just fine, I promise. Everything's going to be okay."

Tears brim in your eyes, but you nod. "I trust you, Joel."

He smiles softly at you, leaning forward to press a kiss on your head before he reaches out and takes your injured arm's hand in his own. With a shaky breath, he asks, "Can you feel that?"

You nod with a sniffle.

"Good. That's good." He squeezes your hand gently. "And you feel that?"

Again, you nod.

He squeezes once more, meeting your eyes. "Still with me?"

Another nod.

Taking a breath, he squeezes for the third time, a nervous expression clouding his face.

It takes you a moment to process his confession as pain overwhelms you. But when you realise what he has said, everything stops hurting for a moment, and a relieved tear slips down your cheek.

He smiles weakly back at you.

And then he tugs.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

"Almost there, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his hand light on your back as he guides you through the blizzard, mindful of your delicate state. "I've got you."

Your injured arm is cradled in a makeshift sling, and a fresh bandage, fashioned from the same sheet, is carefully tied over your bullet wound. Despite the lingering pain, being with Joel feels like a balm to your soul, as if you're walking on air. The thought of being reunited with Ellie soon fills you with hope, giving you the strength to keep moving forward, despite the weariness weighing down your legs.

Every little noise puts you on edge, whether it's the howl of the wind or the thud of snow against a roof. But Joel is there, a reassuring presence, whispering words of comfort each time you tense up, trying to reach for a weapon and inadvertently causing yourself more pain.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Joel assures as you come to reach the last few houses on the road, the sight of horse prints visible in the snow-covered ground. "Look behind us; look around. There is no one here but us. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."

You look around nervously, seeing that he is right. You are simply overwhelmed by paranoia right now.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Joel repeats gently, a change from his usual tone but a welcome one. You've never felt safer.

You nod, scooting closer to him all the same.

The horse tracks lead up to the final house on the road, and Joel is grateful that Ellie followed his instructions this time.

He shuffles as slowly as you need up the short distance of the porch steps, and when you both reach the top and you begin to lose your ability to keep moving forward, he wraps your uninjured arm around his neck and keeps you moving. “I’ve got you. You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re just tired, that’s all. You’re going to rest as soon as we get inside, alright? Talk to me; let me know you’re still in there.”

“Still here..." you assure quietly, though your vision is beginning to blur and darkness is beginning to form in your peripherals.

“Atta girl, stay with me.” He presses a gentle hand over your ear and pushes the other to rest against his chest. He raises his voice, though muffled to you, as he kicks the front door as he has no hands free. “Ellie! Open up! It’s us!”

By the time the door opens, you are halfway through succumbing to the darkness.

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

162 notes · View notes

themorriganwitch · 9 months

Text

The Au Pair Diaries Part 1 | Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake Seresin was in desperate need for an au pair for his twin girls. What he did not expect was to fall in love with the 23 year old girl who is absolutely forbidden but now lives next to his bedroom.

Words: 2,6k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: This is the first part of my upcoming series about Jake and his Au Pair. This Series will contain 18+ content, so MDNI. Please be aware that English is not my firs language, so there will be mistakes. Feedback and Rebloggs are always dearly appreciated.

___________________________________________________________

“You can do this”, you mutter to yourself. “Everything will be alright. You just have to ring the doorbell and beg on your knees that he will give you the job. And if this won’t work you could use your position on your knees to suck him mind-blowingly good, so he will give you the job regardless”.

Yeah, that won’t work. Not just because you have absolutely no clue about giving a mind-blowing blow job, but also because your meeting with Lieutenant Jake Seresin was in exactly 4 minutes and 32 seconds and if you won’t stop running up and down the sidewalk in front of his pretty beach house, you would still be running out here next week instead of taking your very last chance to not fuck everything up you had worked the last 3 years of your life for.

As you make your way down the Seresin driveway, you try to calm your nerves.

You absolutely hated the fact that you had be here alone, but since your chaperon, Lily, had called you this morning and told you that she sadly won’t make it to the interview, you had no choice but to go through this on your own.

You know you should not be mad at her; you were very well aware of the fact that you can’t control when your kids get sick, but after the disaster with your last host family you just wished you had someone to hold your hand and tell you everything will be alright.

Welcome to adulthood, you guess, where you have to handle any hardships of life alone.

As you were now eye to eye with the nice white front door of your hopefully soon-to be home, you took a last breath and prayed for a tiny wonder as your finger push the doorbell on your right.

It only took a couple of seconds until you were hearing footsteps approaching on the other side of the door and soon you were staring into a beautiful pair of green eyes.

“Hey, how can I help you?”, the man in front of you asks.

You open your mouth to answer but holy hell if this has not been the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life.

Tall, broad shoulders, perfectly styled blonde hair and a face as gorgeous as it was chiseled by Michelangelo himself.

You were honestly to stunned to speak.

“Are you okay?”, he asks, a cocky smile forming on his kissable looking lips, like he knows exactly why you were not answering right now.

You clear you throat, trying to not embarrass yourself any further.

“Hi, I am y/n. I am here for the au pair interview”, you smile the kindest smile you have to offer.

Now it was his turn to clear his throat. “Yeah sure, thought you were coming with your chaperon”, it wasn’t a real question, but you answer nevertheless, trying to ban all of the uneasiness caused by your starring scene.

“Her son got sick, so it’s just all me”.

“Oh. Huh. Do you want to come inside?”.

You nod, following him inside his home where he directs the both of you into his kitchen.

“My daughters are currently in their room”, he informs you while subtly directing you to take place on a chair in front of the counter. “Thought it would be better if the both of us talk first, before you are meeting them”.

“Sure”, you agree, looking up to him, waiting that he might ask you a question or anything. Instead of talking to you, you caught him eyeing you from head to toes, similar the way you did at his doorstep.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake Seresin knew that you were going to be the death to him as soon as he opened the door.

Your green tank top that fitted you just right, the denim shorts that were not short enough to be called slutty but sat just tight enough that he knew that if he would have seen your backside, he’d had to fight the urge to bend you over the counter and spank your ass for teasing him like this.

After you fully consented to this, of course.

And now you were looking up to him with big eyes and pouty lips, and for a second, he questions how you would look with tears streaming out of those gorgeous eyes, your pretty mouth stuffed full of his cock, while he praises you for taking him so well.

Damn it, Hangman, he tells himself. Get a hold of yourself. She is here to work with your daughters and live with you for fucks sake. You are in desperate need of her help, don’t let your cock fuck this up.

“So, you already had a host family before?”, he asks you after a moment of silence while he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Your mouth went dry. Holy Moly, that’s a huge biceps.

“Yes”, you clear your throat. “But I have only been there for six weeks. It did not go very well, so the agency suggested me to leave”.

Jake nods: “So how many months do you have left then, for your stay?”

“A bit more than 10”.

Jake nods again.

“I read your profile. You seem to be very qualified. You are 23 and studying back home to become a primary school teacher, which makes you a bit older than most of the profiles I went through. But I would like to hear a bit more of your personality. What are your hobbies back home or how are you planning to spend the time with my kids?”, he looks at you attentively.

You thought about his question for a second, before you answer it truthfully, enumerating most of your hobbies as well as all the free time activates for his girls you thought about, after Lily had told you about their profile.

The interview goes on, as he asks you everything he comes up with at the moment.

After he finished, he continues by telling you what he was expecting from you.

“The girls are at school from 9 to 3, since I must be on base at 7, it would be your job to get them ready, pack breakfast and Lunch and drive them to school.

After you come back, it would be nice if you could tidy up a bit, nothing wild though. Just like starting the dishwasher and packing the girls’ toys away. I can take care of my stuff, so you won’t have to bother with that. Until the girls are done with school you would then have been time to do anything you like.

Around 3, you would have to pick them up again and then either bring them to their after-school activities or come home and do whatever you come up with to keep them entertained. I’ll be back home around 5, so you won’t have to deal with dinner except for the cases where I’ll be late, which sadly will occur more often than not”.

“Sounds pretty doable to me”, you say, figuring out that he will tell you the details of his daughters afternoon activities and anything else as soon as he decides if you are going to match.

Even though you felt like your interview went pretty good until now, you could feel some kind of resistance on his side. You swallow. Lily made you well aware of the fact that Jake Seresins family was the only one who were looking for someone that matches your profile right now, if he declines you as his au pair, the agency would have no choice but to send you back home and all the money you worked your ass up for, to pay the agency. would be flushed down the toilet.

Something you won’t let happen.

You could not know that the reason for the aviators resistsance towards you was coming from his unexplainable, but primal urge to dick you down.

“Please, Lieutenant Seresin”, you say but he interrupts you, his jaw clenches while a shiver went down his spine as you use his rank.

“You can call me Jake, kid. No need for calling me Lieutenant or God forbid, Mr. Seresin”.

“Fine, Jake”, you start again exaggerating his first name, trying to gain some plus points.

“I will be the best Au Pair you could ask for; I promise. I am extremely tidy, my food tastes good and I will never complain about working a bit longer on the weekends, when you have to stay on base a little longer or want to out with your friends”.

You look at him with your best pleading eyes.

Jake sighs, rubbing his forehead as he feels a migraine approaching. This shit was tiring, he went through so many Au pairs, reading their online profiles and spending hours with skype interviews but all of them just weren’t it for him.

And now you were sitting in his kitchen, hair in a messy bun, the fabric of your green tank top thin enough, that he could see your nipples perking through.

He groans inwardly. The last thing he could do is making such an important decision because his dick told him so, but as he looks into your desperate but yet hopeful eyes, he just could not say no to you.

“Fine, we can try this”, the blonde man announces. “But you will have to meet the girls first and if I have the feeling that the three of you will work out when I’m gone, you can move in, and I’ll talk to your agency”.

“Oh my god, thank you so much”, you say, standing up from your chair and hugging him tight before you could really think about it.

But as soon as you feel your hands on his hard, muscled back, you just realized what you were doing, and your hands were gone as fast as they had approached him.

“I’m sorry”, you state awkwardly, avoiding his gaze while panic arises inside you mind.

Holy hell, not enough that he caught you eye fucking him in the very beginning but now he has to think you are encroaching too.

You already open your mouth again, a ton of excuses on the edge of your lips, as you make yourself ready to beg for his forgiveness, but Jake simply clears his throat, an amused glance in his green eyes as he nods his head towards the hallway.

“Ready to meet the girls?”

________________________________________

The Double Trouble, as their dad lovingly introduces his twin daughters to you, were two beautiful ocean-eyed girls at the age of 8.

Charlie, the older one, by exactly 2 and a half minutes as she tells you proudly, closes you into her heart forever as soon as you compliment all 13 Taylor Swift Poster that were hanging on her side of the room.

“You like Taylor Swift?”, she asks you with doll eyes.

“Oh, I love her”, you reply smiling. “My favorite Album is Reputation. Which is yours?”

“Lover”, Charlie tells you, her long blond curls bouncing wildly as she hops up and down in excitement. “But I really love Fearless too. Daddy is also a huge fan”.

You turn your head back to the doorframe, where Jake was standing. “You are?”, you ask interested. He lifts his hands defensively: “All I ever said was that her Debut Album sounds okay, for country music”.

“Daddy, you told us not to lie”, Charlie says, the look in her green eyes was way too mischievous for a girl her age. “He loves singing to her with us in the car, he also has a special dance move he does when we- “.

“Charlotte Seresin, there is no need to tell everyone your dad’s secrets, alright?”, Jake reminds his daughter, who he knows inherited way too much of his cocky manner.

“That’s why I sometimes call her ‘little devil’”. There was definitely no explanation needed where this nickname was coming from. You smile to yourself, already knowing that Charlie would be a handful.

“What about you, Izzy?”, you ask the other twin, who has been silent for most of the time since you had entered the room. “Do you also like Taylor Swift?”.

She shakes her head. “Not really. I listen to her with Charlie and Daddy but not by myself”. You take a step closer to her bed, where she was sitting, before you kneel in front of her.

“Well, what do you like to do when you are by yourself?”

She crooks her head slightly, the same blonde curls as her sisters framing her face. Where Charlie seems to be the outspoken and louder on, Izzy was quieter and more reserved.

“I like to read”, she then answers.

“Really? Me too. I absolutely loved the Harry Potter books, when I was your age. Do you know them?

Her eyes light up as you mention the book that was currently laying on her nightstand. She takes it with her tiny hands and offers it to you. “I am reading book three”, she tells you, smiling shyly.

“It is my favorite book from all of them”.

“It is a really good one”, you agree, reciprocating her smile.

“Do you also like to read, Charlie?”, you look back to the other side of the room, where Charlie was sitting on her own bad.

“Not really. Daddy also does not read”, you heard Jake sigh in the doorframe at her words.

You chuckle to yourself, if Jake really lets you stay, you think, you will really have a great time with his daughters.

The next couple of minutes you were talking to Izzy and Charlie about music and books and anything else each of them comes up with. Charlie was currently telling you about a particular beach day the twins had with their dad and some of his friends, when Jakes phone rings and he excuses himself out of the room to answer the call.

_____________________________

“Is this the phone of Lieutenant Seresin?”, a voice asks.

“It is, yeah”, Jake answers, leaning his back on the hallway wall where he still gets a good view of you sitting in his twin’s bedroom.

“My name is Lily. I am y/ns advisor in her au pair agency. I am calling to ask how the interview went?”

“Oh”, Jake stutters, thinking about a good answer. The interview went well, really well.

And it seems like you were doing great with his daughters too, especially with Izzy.

He knows his younger twin sometimes has a hard time with her bubbly sister, but as he could now hear her voice down the hallway how she tells you excitedly how he lost a match of Mario Kart to Bradshaw once and then had to jump into the ocean, fully clothed, he feels his heart swelling with pure adoration for his daughter but also for you, pulling this side out of her so easily.

“Lieutenant?”, he hears Lily asking. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah”, Jake clears his throat. “The Interview went well”.

And as soon as I stop thinking with my cock, I hope it also stays well, he thinks to himself.

“That’s great. After everything that went down with her old family, I was really rooting for you to be her new host family. So, do you think it will work out with the four of you?”

That’s the moment he hears you laughing whole heartly at something Charlie said to you and it was one of the purest sounds he had ever witness.

Even though he did not know about it right know, his future self was thanking him with his entire being for the decision he was about to make, while his current one was sure that this would end in an absolute disaster.

Nevertheless, he answers Lilys question honestly.

“Yeah, I think the four of us will work out pretty good”.

_________________________________________________________

Part 2 can be read here

#tgm #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #Jake Seresin #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin imagine #Jake Seresin smut #Jake Seresin fluff #Dilf Jake Seresin #Top gun smut #Jake Seresin x y /n

406 notes · View notes

rvp32 · 10 months

Text

Whisper of uncontrollable desire

4.5K, Omegaverse of sorts, Power dynamics, overstimulation, and a little dirty talk. Overall, it is a pretty fluffy smut. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Hope you guys enjoy it!

"Please, alpha," Chaewon moaned, her voice filled with desperate longing. "I need it. It hurts so much." The stage was set for a magnificent performance, but fate had chosen this precise moment to unleash the torment of her heat upon her.

Chaewon had forgotten her suppressants and her scent was spiraling out of control, a potent aphrodisiac that threatened to shatter the fragile peace around her. In this futuristic world, where dominance and hierarchy determined societal norms, any other alpha catching even a whiff of her scent would ignite a savage frenzy, tearing apart the very fabric of their meticulously built company and tarnishing its reputation forever.

As her dedicated guardian, it was up to you to ensure Chaewon's well-being, to tame the wild storm brewing within her. You knew that for her to perform flawlessly, her primal desires had to be appeased. The weight of responsibility pressed upon your shoulders as you gazed into her pleading eyes.

"Pretty girl," you whispered, your voice tinged with a mix of authority and compassion, "I am going to be quick, but you will face the consequences once we return. Do you understand?" The words hung in the air, a delicate promise of both pleasure and punishment.

Chaewon's mind was clouded with an overwhelming need, her thoughts consumed by a single craving. Unable to resist, she nodded fervently, surrendering herself completely. At this moment, consequences and concerns faded into obscurity, replaced by an all-encompassing yearning.

In the confined space of the washroom cubicle, a labyrinth of desire unfolded, teasing the boundaries of your shared passion. The small enclosure offered little room for maneuvering, especially with your imposing stature, leaving you no choice but to surrender control to Chaewon's graceful movements. A tantalizing prospect danced before your eyes, as anticipation mingled with lust in the charged atmosphere.

With an unyielding hunger, you pulled Chaewon close, your lips crashing together in a kiss that ignited a fierce craving for a deeper connection. The taste of longing lingered upon your tongues, a tantalizing promise of the pleasure yet to come. The world outside the cubicle ceased to exist as your bodies molded together, bound by an insatiable need for more.

Seating yourself on the toilet, you drew Chaewon onto your lap, an electric pulse of desire coursing through your veins. The heat between you intensified, as your mouths remained locked in an intoxicating dance of tongues and teeth. Every touch and graze fueled the fire that consumed both of you, building an uncontainable tension.

"Alpha, please," Chaewon's voice echoed with a plea, her words a seductive melody that seeped into your very core. Her whine, a symphony of desire, tugged at the strings of your self-control. At this moment, inhibitions were discarded, and all that remained was an overwhelming need to quench the ache that enveloped you both.

Giving in to Chaewon's plea, you swiftly strip off your pants, granting her access to what she craves. With a pang of hunger in her eyes, she wastes no time and removes the final barrier between herself and her desires. She's already drenched, and time is of the essence, so she wastes no time in sinking down onto your length, inch by glorious inch until you're completely intertwined.

The sheer stimulation is enough to send Chaewon spiraling into a world of ecstasy, her body trembling and her control slipping away. You instinctively pull her closer, ensuring she doesn't lose her balance amidst the mind-blowing pleasure. Werewolves are known to get ultra-sensitive during their heat, so it's no surprise to witness Chaewon losing her mind from such a simple action.

"Ah, so tight for me, aren't you, my pretty girl," you whisper huskily into Chaewon's ear, relishing the shivers that raced down her spine. A playful bite on her earlobe elicits a deliciously wanton moan from her lips. "But naughty girls like you don't get the satisfaction of me doing all the work."

In the depths of her gaze, you catch a glimmer of vulnerability mingled with untamed desire. Chaewon's eyes glisten with tears, a testament to the intensity of their connection. Yet, the tightening of her body around you reveals her true pleasure, a silent affirmation of her carnal hunger. With a shared understanding, she embraces her role, preparing to take charge of their intimate dance.

As she begins to move, a symphony of moans cascades from her lips, unabashed and unrestrained. It's as if time itself ceases to exist, and the only reality that matters is the intoxicating pleasure that courses through their intertwined bodies. Your mind is clouded with desire, longing to explore further with your free hands, but the constraints of her delicate outfit restrain your primal instincts, adding an exhilarating layer of restraint.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swings open, breaking the spell that has enveloped them. "Chaewon-ah, how long are you going to take?" The voice, unmistakably Sakura's, one of the Betas from your pack, punctures the heated atmosphere. Chaewon, unable to form words in her state of delirious pleasure, sinks her teeth into your shoulder, drawing in your scent, which only intensifies her arousal.

"Sakura, Chaewon will be out soon," you reply, your voice laced with a commanding yet tantalizing authority. With that, Sakura retreats from the washroom, realization dawning upon her. The brief interruption only adds to the charged tension, heightening the forbidden allure of their clandestine encounter.

As Chaewon continues to ride you with unbridled eagerness, the intensity between you reaches a fever pitch. Her mind, now blissfully lost in a haze of pleasure, prevents coherent thoughts from forming. Her eyes roll back, disappearing into a world solely focused on the sensations pulsating through her body. Unrestrained moans escape her lips, filling the air, as her scent wafts around, a fragrant declaration of her desire.

With your free hand, you skillfully tease her swollen bud, sending a surge of electricity through her system. The unexpected jolt causes her to yelp, and a rush of liquid gushes forth, coating both of you in a sweet mixture of satisfaction. Her body trembles, overwhelmed by the cascading waves of pleasure that wash over her.

Caught up in the all-consuming whirlwind of sensation, the boundaries of reality blur, and nothing exists except the searing pleasure shared between your intertwined bodies. The irresistible tightness enveloping you fuel an instinctive rutting motion, deepening the connection and pushing you both toward the brink of ecstasy.

As the climax subsides, Chaewon collapses against you, her body seeking respite from the intense activity. In the aftermath of their passionate union, you find solace in each other's arms, reveling in the intimate aftermath of their wild desires. While the outside world may be a blur, within the sanctuary of their embrace, time stands still, allowing them to bask in the euphoria of their shared experience.

"Hey, Chaewon-ah, you need to get the final touches done on your makeup. The stage is waiting, and we don't have all day," you call out to her, reluctantly untangling yourselves from the embrace. She nods, understanding the urgency, and hops off your lap to fix herself up and look somewhat presentable. But deep down, you both know that this little intermission is just a temporary break from the heat.

Before she leaves the stall, Chaewon turns to you with a mix of guilt and determination etched on her face. "Sorry, Alpha, I should've been more careful. I promise this won't happen again," she says, her voice filled with unwavering loyalty. With that, she heads out, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

You pull up your pants, only to realize they're damp and clingy from your wild encounter. Letting out a sigh, you reach for your phone and dial your secretary's number, requesting a fresh pair of pants. It's just one of those things you have to deal with when you're in charge, right?

As you change into the new pants, your mind drifts to the seating area in front of the stage. How the hell did you end up in this situation? Well, long story short, you're the Alpha of a kickass werewolf pack. Yeah, that's right. Being an Alpha comes with a truckload of responsibilities, especially when your pack is filled with other alphas. But thanks to your impressive power and leadership skills, they all agreed that you're the top dog.

Werewolves have a longer lifespan than humans, so you've had to adapt to human society over time. And to keep the pack fed and happy, you decided to start an entertainment company in South Korea. Who knew werewolves could rock the stage too, right?

Being an Alpha ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a juggling act of power, emotions, and keeping your pack in line. But here you are, taking your seat, ready to witness the magic unfold on the stage.

The electrifying performance of Unforgiven by Lesserafim left the audience in awe, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as they owned the stage. The thunderous applause and standing ovation were well-deserved, and once they made their way backstage, you followed suit.

Entering the room, you were greeted by a chorus of cheerful voices and friendly hugs. The pack members were buzzing with excitement, and Yunjin, the ever-enthusiastic werewolf with a personality like a golden retriever, couldn't contain her excitement. "Alpha, did you see how amazing we were? Was I a good girl?" she exclaimed, practically bouncing with anticipation.

Grinning, you playfully ruffled Yunjin's hair. "You were all fantastic. Of course, you were a good girl, Yunjin-ah," you praised, earning a wag of her metaphorical tail and a beaming smile.

Directing your attention to Chaewon, you couldn't resist a teasing remark. She looked at you with apologetic eyes, seeking solace in the company of Kazuha, a docile alpha who always seemed to defy expectations. Finding amusement in the situation, you couldn't help but say, "Unlike you, Chaewon Unnie," which caused her to hide behind Kazuha, clinging to her for support.

Yunjin, ever the innocent soul, seemed perplexed by the exchange. "But Alpha, Chaewon Unnie did great on stage," she innocently pointed out. Before you could respond, Sakura chimed in with a mischievous laugh, shedding light on the situation. "Chaewon forgot her suppressants, and well, it's that time of the month. That's why Kazuha is covering her nose like someone let out a real stinker," Sakura explained, followed by laughter from the group.

Yunjin's innocent remark unintentionally tugged at Chaewon's heartstrings, her heightened sensitivity due to the heat making her teary-eyed. Stepping away from Yunjin, you approached Chaewon, a tender touch caressing her cheek. "Hey, I was just teasing, princess. No need to be sad," you reassured her, pulling her into a comforting hug. "I'm right here for you, don't worry."

As the day's events concluded and the girls changed out of their stage outfits, you all hopped into the car for the drive back to the pack's mansion. It was a bit of a trek from the city, but you didn't mind the distance. Chaewon and Yunjin nestled close to you, seeking comfort during the ride. Chaewon ended up dozing off on your shoulder, while Yunjin took a nap on the other side. It was a peaceful journey, with Eunchae and Sakura also catching some sleep.

"Kazuha, you look kinda out of it. Everything alright?" you asked, glancing over at her with concern.

She let out a tired sigh. "Just exhausted from the busy schedule, and being near Chaewon during her heat is adding to the mental strain," she replied, rubbing her temples. You understood the struggle of controlling one's urges around an alluring werewolf in heat.

"Well, hang in there, angel. We're almost home, and once we're there, you can relax. No more promotions for a while," you reassured her, hoping to lighten her burden.

The car rolled to a stop at the pack's grand mansion, a place that served as both a residence and a base for operations. You gently woke Chaewon and Yunjin, prompting Yunjin to groggily make her way to her room to continue snoozing. The rest of the pack followed suit, but Chaewon clung to your side, unwilling to part ways.

"Hey, don't you wanna catch some sleep, princess?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Chaewon shook her head, giving you a puppy-eyed look that was hard to resist. "Can I stay with you, Alpha? Cuddle a bit, maybe?" she requested, her gaze filled with longing.

"Sure thing, let's head on in," you agreed, scooping her up in your arms. Walking together towards your room, you set her down on the bed and took a moment to change out of your suit. When you returned, Chaewon was zoned out, staring at the doorway.

"You wanna change, princess? It's gonna be tough to sleep in those clothes," you suggested, motioning to her attire. However, you held onto her hand before she could step out, stopping her. "No need to go all the way to your room. Just grab something from my closet," you offered, a playful grin on your face.

With a shy nod, Chaewon disappeared into the walk-in closet while you settled onto the bed, scrolling through your phone. Moments later, she emerged wearing nothing but your shirt, which practically swallowed her up. She looked incredibly cute in it, tempting you to pull her close and steal a kiss. Chaewon padded over to the bed and settled down beside you, cuddling up. It was a relaxed and cozy atmosphere, the perfect end to a long day.

*****

You were awoken by a sudden wet feeling, wondering what happened. You down to notice that the source of the wet feeling was none other than Chaewon. When she noticed you, she met your eyes with such innocent ones, like she wasn’t doing anything wrong. With how cute she looked, you didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop and it wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying what she was doing. She was exceptional at giving head, playing with her hair you throw your head back in pleasure. “Oh yeah, that’s it, Princess, keep going deeper.”

Following your instructions Chaewon goes deeper, reaching the back of her throat, to increase the pleasure you push her head toward your crotch but stop when you feel Chaewon tap your thighs, letting fo she takes a deep breath.

“Princess, come here and give me a kiss,” Chaewon obeys, her thighs on each side of your body, she leans down and kisses you. The kiss was full of lust and longing, Chaewon’s hands exploring every inch of you while your hands explored every inch of her.

Their lips parted, leaving a trail of desire and aching need. The air crackled with anticipation as Chaewon's gaze locked with yours, her eyes smoldering with a fiery passion.

“What is it that you want princess?” you tease, though you know exactly what it is. Chaewon turns away from you and mumbles “I need you, alpha.”

Holding her chin you turn her toward you, “You have to be more clear, princess, what exactly do you want your alpha to do you.” “Alpha, I need you to fuck me, use me how you want! Break my mind with pleasure, make sure that the only thing I can think about is your huge alpha cock,” Chaewon said her voice getting louder and harsher.

You smile at her and slowly insert 1 finger into her sloppy pussy, earning a moan from her which soon turns into a whine, “Alpha, don’t tease please, I don’t want your fingers! Please fuck me with your cock I beg you!”

"Princess," you whispered huskily, your voice laced with desire. " I want to taste every inch of you, feel your body surrendering to mine."

Chaewon's breath hitched, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. Her hands trembled as they traced the contours of your chest, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in their wake.

"Alpha," she murmured, her voice a mere whisper. "Take me. Make me yours."

You couldn't deny the plea in her voice, the urgent longing that mirrored your own. The hunger between you intensified, an unspoken promise of ecstasy waiting to be fulfilled.

With a swift motion, you flipped her onto her back, positioning yourself above her. The world around you faded into oblivion as you leaned in, your lips hungrily seeking hers once more. The taste of her was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

Your hands roamed freely, exploring every curve and dip of her body, igniting sparks of pleasure with each touch. Chaewon's moans mingled with your own as the boundaries of time and space blurred, lost in the dance of passion and desire.

In that moment, there was only the two of you, entwined in a symphony of raw emotion and unspoken promises. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers down your spine, building the tension to unbearable heights.

"Master," she gasped, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and urgency. "I need you now."

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, savoring the anticipation that hung in the air. You positioned yourself, slowly inserting it, her moans got louder, and her nails clawed at your back to help deal with the pain. “Oh my god, it feels so good, alpha,” Chaewon manages to say in between her moans. As you bottomed out in her, you let her adjust, leaning down to kiss her.

Once you felt her relax a little, you began moving slowly, making sure to not hurt her but that changed when Chaewon said “Is this the best you can do, alpha,” this flipped a switch in your mind. Picking up the pace, you pounded into her like a battering ram, Chaewon’s moans turned into screams of pleasure. Her pussy tightened around you, signaling that she was close to her orgasm.

“I-i am going to c-cum, yes! Right there alpha, fuck! It feels so fucking good,” Chaewon’s back curved in anticipation of an orgasm but you denied her of it when you pulled out.

“No-no, alpha put it back please I need to cum, please let me cum, Alpha I beg you!” Chaewon pleaded with you, her mind and body were going desperate for pleasure.

“Only good girls get to cum and princess you have been a very bad girl,” you tease her, using your dick to flick her clit.

“Please please please alpha, I will be a good girl, I will do anything that you want, so I beg you please make me cum” Chaewon screams, getting more and more desperate. Knowing she can’t hold on any longer you put it back in one go without a warning causing her to yelp and start pounding.

“Oh my fucking god, it feels so amazing to be filled by your cock alpha,” Chaewon continued to mumble incoherent things, her brain melting from pleasure. “Alpha, going to cum, can princess cum please!”

“Go ahead princess, cum all over my cock like the fucking slut you are,” with your permission, she lets go and cums, her pussy gushes all over your cock, her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her legs trembling.

Chaewon looked completely spent but you decided that it wasn’t over, before she can calm down from the brain-shattering orgasm she just had, you stimulate her clit and start pounding her again, the pleasure now multiplied.

“No, Alpha, no, too much, please… stop. YOU WILL BREAK ME, PLEASE NOO,” she was responding very well to the overstimulation her pussy was clamping down around you like there was no tomorrow. The tightness drove you closer to your orgasm.

“Chaewon-ah, I am going to cum, where do you want it?” You ask as the pounding continues. “Inside- do it inside please, cum inside me. I need your cum inside me alpha,” Chaewon manages to say.

Her permission was all you needed, after a few more thrusts you unload your seed deep inside Chaewon. “Fuck! Take all of it, Princess, don’t waste a single drop,” after coming down from the high of your orgasm, you lie down next to Chaewon. She is still recovering from the overstimulation. Pulling her into a tight embrace you whisper “Such a good girl, you did an amazing job, Princess, I am so proud of you.”

As the night embraced the lovers, a sense of tranquility settled upon their intertwined bodies. Chaewon, nestled in your arms, radiated an ethereal beauty even in her slumber. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow upon her peaceful face.

With gentle strokes, you caressed her back, tracing the contours of her delicate form. The touch of your fingertips against her warm skin elicited a subtle shiver, awakening a dormant desire within you.

Lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts, you leaned in and placed a tender kiss upon her forehead, a gesture laced with unspoken affection and adoration. Chaewon stirred slightly, a contented sigh escaping her parted lips.

"Sleep well, Princess," you whispered your voice a soothing melody in the hushed darkness.

As the night deepened, the rhythmic rise and fall of Chaewon's breathing serenaded your senses, creating a symphony of intimacy that resonated within your very core. Her slumber was a testament to the trust she placed in your arms, an unwavering surrender.

*****

As the morning light filtered through the office windows, you found yourself buried in a mountain of paperwork. It was a never-ending battle against the endless forms and contracts that seemed to multiply overnight. Sighing, you longed for a brief respite from the monotony.

Just when you thought the day couldn't get any duller, a soft knock on the door startled you. Chaewon stood there, her eyes filled with a mix of innocence and mischief. She had a way of brightening up even the dullest moments.

"Hey, princess, what brings you here?" you greeted her, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

With a shy smile, she stepped into the room, and before you knew it, she had settled herself on your lap. The unexpected closeness sent a jolt of excitement through you, breaking the monotony of the office.

As you tried to focus on the task at hand, Eunbi barged in, ready to spill some important info. But her alpha instincts kicked in, and she couldn't help but catch a whiff of Chaewon's pheromones.

"You didn't take your suppressants, did you, Chaewon?" Eunbi asked her tone a mix of concern and authority.

Chaewon's voice wavered as she confessed, "I forgot, Eunbi-unnie."

Eunbi's gaze bore into Chaewon, her words carrying a warning. You knew the pack's rules all too well, and consequences were a part of the deal. It was a delicate balance between love and discipline.

Chaewon's grip on your arm tightened, and you couldn't help but feel protective. Eunbi handed her the suppressants, a tangible reminder of the responsibility she held as an omega within the pack.

With a mixture of resignation and determination, Chaewon obediently took the offered suppressants, her eyes never leaving yours. It was a silent promise, a commitment to control the wild flames that burned within her.

The office fell into a hushed pause, the air thick with unspoken tension. But amidst the lingering scent of desire, you remained a beacon of support and understanding.

As the day continued, the mundane tasks blurred into the background, and you found solace in Chaewon's presence on your lap.

The rest of the day goes by with you getting work done and Chaewon clinging to you, and from the looks of it, Chaewon’s heat might end tomorrow because of the suppressants.

****

Chaewon had fallen asleep in your arms again, but this time there weren’t any extracurricular activities. Both your slumber was interrupted by none other than Kwon Eunbi, she barged into the room. “Eunbi-ah, what are you doing here so early,” you questioned.

“Oppa, first of all, it's noon, I woke you up because Chaewon needs to be punished today, her heat ended and she needs to be taught a lesson,” Eunbi said with a smirk and winks at you. You always found it funny how Eunbi loved punishing I*zone girls when they broke the rules.

“Alright, let’s get this done with,” You say, picking up Chaewon to take her to the basement where the punishment room is located.

You followed Eunbi as she weaved through the halls until you ended up in front of the punishment room. This was going to be Chaewon’s first time in the punishment room.

he heavy metal door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit punishment room. Its cold, sterile atmosphere sent a shiver down Chaewon's spine, her eyes widening in both anticipation and trepidation. She clutched onto you, seeking solace in your presence, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and pleading.

"Alpha, please be gentle," she implored, her eyes filled with an undeniable mix of innocence and desire. "I won't break the rules ever again."

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in her voice, your protective instincts kicking in. With a nod, you tried to convey a sense of reassurance, hoping to temper her fears. But all reassurance faded into thin air as Chaewon's gaze fell upon Eunbi's face—the face of the one who delighted in enforcing discipline upon the I*zone girls.

Eunbi's smirk widened, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. She thrived on these moments, relishing the power and control she wielded. It was a game they played, a dance of dominance and submission. And in this twisted ballet of pleasure and discipline, Chaewon was about to take her first steps.

Taking a deep breath, you carried Chaewon further into the room, its cold air wrapping around you like a sinister embrace. Eunbi followed close behind, her presence a constant reminder of the impending punishment.

The room was adorned with various restraints and devices, each designed to both heighten sensations and test limits. It was a place where boundaries were pushed, where pleasure and pain intertwined. As you settled Chaewon onto a padded surface, her eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the tools that would soon be employed upon her.

Eunbi's voice cut through the silence, her tone dripping with calculated dominance. "Chaewon, my sweet, you will learn the consequences of breaking the rules," she purred, her gaze locking onto Chaewon's with an intensity that sent a shiver down both your spines.

Chaewon's breath hitched, her body tense with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. But amidst it all, there was a flicker of something else—excitement, a desire to surrender to the sweet agony that awaited her.

With a steady hand, you reached out to caress Chaewon's cheek, your touch both comforting and electrifying. "Princess, trust me," you whispered, your voice laced with a blend of tenderness and authority. "This is a lesson you won't forget."

To Be Continued

#izone chaewon #kim chaewon #miyawaki sakura #kwon eunbi

438 notes · View notes