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usedpidemo · 2 days ago

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Taste (Newjeans/Njz Minji & Danielle)

9k words

—————

No matter how you look at it, one thing is for certain: you’re absolutely screwed.

Aside from having two uninvited guests at your front door this late in the evening, those very same people are, in the company’s words, marked persona non grata. They’re everywhere. They’re a byword. They’re beyond saving. It’s a public relations nightmare for anyone caught in their crossfire. At least that’s what the agency wants you to believe.

All the less reason to trust their intuition when they’re this damn pretty. It’s a convincing guise. Furthermore, you have common ground to stand on: that this is merely a job, that you’re only there for the pay, and nothing else.

So now:

“How’d you end up getting my address?” you ask the girls, knowing full well you never interact with your coworkers, let alone the idols in the building.

“We—” Danielle rolls her eyes in the direction of her partner, Minji, prolonging the word. Smiling, playful, searching for a compelling reason in real time—and failing. “We have our ways.”

Suspicious. This whole situation raises many red flags. But one look at both of them. Drop dead gorgeous. You wouldn’t be surprised if they came here straight after one of their photoshoots, and their makeup gives off a strong indication. If not for your job, you’d let them in, no questions asked. But you’re a bit numb to it—just a little—if not for the fact that you see them at work everyday.

“Can we please come in?” Minji implores you, sounding innocent in contrast to the flirty Danielle. You hardly need any further convincing.

“Sure.”

Without a second thought, you let them walk through the door, and it’s only after they’re inside that you realize: you’re making a huge mistake.

But in the heat of the moment, you reason to yourself that it's a rare occasion; it’s not often you hang out with fellow coworkers after hours, and you’re really stretching that coworker label. Finding excuses to let them in your place.

Minji and Danielle take their seats on the living room couch without even asking, but you allow them. Meanwhile, you’re rushing to the fridge, trying to make do with your leftovers of takeout and canned food you have lying around.

“Don’t worry about us. We’re not hungry,” Minji shouts from the living room, but her plea goes through deaf ears.

“Yeah, we don’t really eat much,” Danielle adds, but it hardly changes anything.

Even from the kitchen, you can hear them mumble in the background, mostly incomprehensible to your ears, even while you’re preoccupied with heating the food in the microwave. Taking a few glances from a distance every now and then, still pretty from afar. Thankfully, they’re busy with each other to catch you snooping. You never expected this. These same idols that appear untouchable and have their own private rooms in the building, that never really take a second glance at everyone else—casually hanging out at your place.

To keep your mind from spinning further away from the consequences, you let the food out as soon the microwave’s timer hits zero. You’re hoping this is a quick and casual visit, but based on what you know so far, with the company’s situation in mind, you sense that they’re here for a specific purpose—and it’s certainly not to make friends.

As you offer the reheated food before them, Minji smiles at you, raising her hand. “We already ate,” she says, smiling respectfully, “But thank you.”

You set it down on the table regardless, knowing they won’t take a bite anyway. It’s the thought that counts.

Taking the couch opposite them, a brief silence fills the room, the tension gradually brewing as neither party is willing to break the silence. Until—

“So,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs, feeling a lump in your throat, unable to follow through, but you muster up the resolve to speak: “What are you here for?”

The two girls pause, ruminate on their response, on their intent, trying to find a way to sound convincing. You see the pair exchanging brief glances at each other, with Danielle looking more anxious and deferring to Minji to be their mouthpiece. As much as you want to threaten them, you can’t—not when they look like that. A perfect blend of gorgeous and innocent.

So you’ll let them be. Give them all the time in the world if needed. You’re not their corporate overlord, after all. If anything, you’re in the same position as them somewhat, a slave to the system on the outside looking in.

Eventually, Minji opens her mouth. Swallows her throat, pulls on the collar of her shirt. Talking slowly, ensuring every word is emphasized, she says, “I know this might be hard for you to do, since it’s your job and all, but—”

She suddenly second guesses herself, her gaze heading in the direction of the table, unable to face you. Danielle’s been looking at her, and you can tell the exact moment her confidence drops through her body language.

“But?” you say, tone low, in an effort to keep them at ease. Probably not the best sounding or worded, but it’s already done. You already know what she means—hell, you had a slight clue that they wouldn’t be here without cause—but you just need them to say it outright.

“We need sensitive information from HYBE’s documents to get us further in the public’s good graces,” Minji forces herself to speak, trembling, “You know about our situation right? You know how much that company hates us—how they want us to take it, and then they’ll shelf us.”

“Yeah. I mean—you’re no different than us, right?” Danielle tries to empathize, finally turning her eyes on you, twinkling, pretty, “You probably hate this company, too.”

And to be fair, Danielle’s right: you hate HYBE with a burning passion, even when you’re in charge of cleaning all their dirty work. But the NewJeans predicament has turned that hatred up to eleven. There are even days where your overtime extends till the dawn trying to save this company’s ass from themselves and from public scrutiny. It’s a thankless job. You’re fed up, and the only thing keeping you from leaving is how the market everywhere else sucks.

So you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Help them at the expense of your job, career and future, or refuse, and possibly get caught in the fire when they continue their tirade against the company. Worst case scenario, they win, and HYBE goes under, and you’re left with nothing. Essentially, you’re delaying the inevitable.

Either way, you’re screwed.

And then, you bring up an overlooked point:

“But this is my livelihood,” you tell them, blunt, direct to the point. As much as you’re willing to take that risk, you are also aware of the consequences, and everything else at stake. At the end of the day, you’re still an average joe living off the bare minimum to survive, but Minji and Danielle are millionaires with brand deals, hit songs, and coming from wealthy backgrounds. Most idols in the industry are like that. Their reputation may take a hit, but not their wallets—something you simply can’t endure. “You will be fine regardless, but what’s in it for me? I get nothing from helping you guys.”

Your response leaves them dead silent. You can sense the realization falling on their faces, and the air of defeat in their body language. Unable to look you in the eyes, the two women sit on the couch, every breath deep. Even from across the table, you can feel the weight put on their shoulders. The despair.

If this is their way to draw sympathy, it’s working to an extent. You do feel bad for them. But you’re looking out for yourself, first and foremost.

“We know how that feels, and we’re sorry for asking a lot from you,” Danielle finally speaks, breaking their silence, before pouring herself a glass of water and taking a sip. “But you have to understand, we also need work too. They won’t let us. So we need not only the public’s favor, but also incriminating evidence of workplace malice to force their hand.”

It’s not a convincing enough argument.

“Think of it,” adds Danielle, leaning forward, “You’re not only gonna help us, but also anyone in the future who ends up in this situation too. We can fight against the system.”

And you’re certainly not the hero type.

“Dani, I’m sorry, but I can’t help.” you say, rising from the couch and picking up the food. As you walk back to the kitchen, you add, “My job is far too important to let go that easily. If there’s any other way, I can offer my help, but not at the risk of my livelihood.”

“I know, I know, but we really really need it,” Danielle continues to implore you, persistent and unwilling to accept any other answer than a ‘yes.’ Minji sits beside her, quiet, deep in thought. You’d assume that being the eldest, she’d put a stop to her member’s antics, but no. She’s convinced that there’s no finality in your answer, that you can change your mind with enough begging and pleading. “Please. You help us this one time, we never ask for anything from you ever again.”

She goes on to list a few of the incentives they’ll give, ranging from signed albums and merchandise to free concert tickets which you have no interest in. Add in a positive word to her mentor, but you know damn well that even without this mess, she’s not to be trusted with. You’re struggling, yes, but not desperate.

“Maybe for a few million, I could do it,” you joke, knowing it’s too much, even for them. It’s the greed they mention and condemn in the Bible. Obviously, they don’t react positively to your counter offer.

“Please. Reduce that to a hundred thousand, and maybe we’ll consider it,” Dani remarks, huge emphasis on maybe, and it elicits a light chuckle out of you.

“Like I said, it’s gonna take a lot for me to risk my job. I also understand you’re also trying to work freely, and I hope you can win your case, but I can’t freely give up my only source of income like that.”

“Right, right.”

You can tell they don’t want to be told the same thing over and over. But here they are, repeatedly begging as if they didn’t hear a single thing you said. What else did they expect?

Danielle then looks to her partner, hoping to get something out of her after exerting this much effort to no avail. And then:

“Hey Minji,” she calls to her, before curling her hand in front of her lips, whispering into her ear. By the way her brows rise, a fresh idea has struck her head like lightning. Minji looks at her, not buying it, but as she rattles on, you see her turn more and more convinced at the notion.

Perhaps it’s the fatigue beginning to settle in, but you seemingly catch a quirk and a subtle grin on both women’s lips.

What they’re up to—it’s no good.

“We’re asking: please help us,” Minji appeals to you one more time. “A few hundred thousand you want, right? We’ll each give you a couple so it adds up to a million. All five of us. So you can help your family out and you have bail in case you ever get caught and arrested.”

“Thoughtful offer, but I’ve made up my mind a long time ago,” you tell her, having convinced yourself the deal has fallen through. “It’s getting late,” you say, turning your gaze to the wall clock, approaching midnight. “It’s been nice having you, but I’ll see you guys at work tomorrow and then we can talk about it.”

As you’re about to show them the door, Danielle calls to you, drawing back your attention. “Wait.”

You face them to see Minji taking off her denim jacket, leaving only her cropped shirt and pants, giving you a clearer view at her toned belly. Danielle’s not far off too, wearing a similar fit as Minji, all the way down to the blue jeans, the key difference being her tight, body fitting shirt, emphasizing her chest.

Yeah, they clearly went here fresh off a photoshoot, makeup and all.

“What are you doing?” you ask as Minji tosses her jacket onto the couch.

“We seriously need your help, and we’ll do whatever it takes to get you to help us,” is Danielle’s reply, sultry with a hint of venom laced somewhere. The two women step forward, positioning themselves into a makeshift trap. Of course you’re frozen in place, unable to move as they corner you, seize you with their hands, their gaze traveling up and down your figure. “Don’t you think we look pretty?”

The twosome stroke everywhere—at your hair, at your skin, at your clothes, poking into your most carnal desires. It’s one thing to see beautiful girls like them at your workplace on a daily basis, but up close and like this—their beauty hits harder. Their hands reach down to your pants, squeezing on your balls, forcing a deep grunt from your lips.

“Jesus, fuck—” you moan, tilting your head up, the sensation overwhelming. “Not like this. I can’t.”

Yanking down your pajamas, Minji and Danielle take turns stroking your cock through your boxers. Back and forth, with their hand around wrapping the tent forming in your bulge, both women shooting a passionate gaze through your soul.

Your fight is completely nonexistent.

“Good enough to convince you now?” Danielle says, her breath hot against your skin.

You regain enough lucidity to glare back through the pressure, rasping, “I still need the money though.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, the two girls release their grip on you, promptly taking a step back, leaving you gasping for air.

“Only after you give us what we want,” Minji demands, crossing her arms, shooting you a confident smirk.

“And what makes you think I’ll do that?” you reply, unconvinced that they will fulfill their end of this bargain.

Minji eyes you, as if expecting that very response, and wiggles her hips like she’s on stage, slowly pulling off her jeans, teasing the slightest hint of underwear before stopping.

“Nice try, but I need your word,” you remark, tilting your head, playfully pouting your lips. “I need to know that you’re not pulling on my leg. That you’ll give everything you promise.”

“Such as?” Danielle asks.

“Your pussy. And the money. I better check my account and see a million there tomorrow.”

“Don’t we look trustworthy enough?” she remarks, feeling slighted at your lack of faith.

“Maybe. For all I know, you just want to run up your pockets with the company’s money,” you tell them, shrugging your shoulders. “And who knows what else that devil is telling you. You seriously don’t need her to be successful. Anyone ever told you that?”

“I’d tell you that you’re out here asking for money like a broke bitch, but hey—since we need your help, I’ll let that slide,” Danielle replies, her grin shifting to more of a scowl. “But because you asked, here.”

She whips out her phone and taps rapidly on the screen before showing you. A transfer of $200,000 from her bank account to yours.

“Trustworthy enough?”

You merely nod in agreement. You’re getting somewhere.

Grinning, she approaches you, her eyes wide open, demanding once more, “Now give us the data.”

Not flinching, you quickly retaliate. “You’re still missing one thing.”

“Only after you give us the data.”

“Only after you give me the honor of fucking you both.”

“Please stop.” Minji steps between you two, her glare pointed at Danielle, taking the role of mediator. “We’ll send the rest tomorrow, so don’t worry. And we know you’ll give us the data after.”

“At least someone gets it,” you remark, smug. This is all new to you.

“Don’t act like we wanted this.” Now it’s Minji’s turn to act condescending, redirecting her gaze in your direction. “You know very well this wasn’t our first plan—or second–or third.”

“I know.” Your hands are already pushing down on your pajamas, leaving only your boxers and the evident bulge behind it, suffocating, desperate to be freed.

��————

“Show us your bedroom,” is their command, straight and to the point. A request you’ll never decline, not in any universe. By the time you lead the two girls there, all their clothes are on the floor, making a trail of their tracks. They don’t give you the opportunity to watch them undress, and to be fair, it’s completely all on you—so focused on the future, that you never look at what’s right ahead.

Nevertheless, even under a dimly lit room, you mark their svelte figures, their fine, tangible curves. Divinely made, as if they were created by the gods themselves.

“God,” you comment, eyes wide, in awe of their bodies, your mouth watering, starstruck. Any compliment, no matter how small, serves to stroke their ego. It’s all over their lips—their taunting, playful smirks. Minji’s sweet bearing can’t hide that. The need for praise and attention never grows repetitive. Like they were born for it.

“If you’re gonna stare there and just watch,” teases Danielle, as both girls walk past you and toward the bed, continuing to goad you. “We wouldn’t mind that.”

Your brain hard resets itself, and you eventually catch on. Turning around, Minji and Danielle are standing on opposite ends of your bed, examining, testing to see if it can shoulder the weight of you three together. At least that’s what you think.

“So—not even gonna finish the job, huh?” you say, referring to your boxers and the way they handled your balls a while back.

“Wasn’t part of the agreement,” is her reply, direct, laughing. “Could have said: ‘I want your pussy, your mouth, and the money,’ but it seems like you need the money more than anything.”

And God damn it, they got you. Again.

“But since I’m in a giving mood today,” Danielle continues, sauntering toward you, slow, seductive, flattering, until her breath is hot against your skin once more. You feel it again: the measure of her hand on your balls, the grip of her fingers piercing through the thin fabric, tight and suffocating. Turning her gaze to Minji, gesturing with her eyes to follow.

The sensation renders you helpless, but that’s only Danielle. Add in Minji’s fingers, the tug of those damned briefs down your legs, leaving you at your barest—and sure enough, you’re drowning. So hot to the touch, so overwhelming to the senses, like you’re breathing in nothing but nitrogen. Tilting your head up, moaning like that’s the only thing you can do—and that’s exactly it: you can only voice out your pleasure through this madness.

“Feels good, right? Never had girls do this to you before?” Danielle never lets up, continues her assault on your senses and your life like it’s a form of personal revenge. You’re too preoccupied with their touch to catch their satisfied expressions, only in brief, flashing blurs. You don’t even acknowledge how they’ve added a few kisses here and there on your collarbones and shoulders, all while taking turns to fondle your balls and stroke your cock.

As if you weren’t already in the gutter, it gets worse.

Dropping to their knees, their lips kiss the tip of your cock, and Christ. It demands your entire resolve not to come undone right then and there. You’re biting on your lower lip, sighing deeply and holding your breath, doing everything in your power to not buckle underneath all the pressure building and building. All it takes is a little spark to create fire. There’s no stopping it; you can only hope to contain it for as long as humanly possible.

And that’s just the initial contact.

A brief glance at what’s beneath and behold: it’s imagery straight out of your deepest fantasies. There’s no other way to spin it; it’s pornographic. Minji and Danielle down on their knees, taking opposite ends before your cock, their fingers wrapped around your base and on your balls, with your hands gripped on their scalp, on their long, dark locks. Soft hums and little kiss sounds coming from below fill the room and satisfy your ears. The control is nonexistent; in reality, it’s them who are having their way with you, setting pace, constantly putting you on the backfoot with little resistance on your end.

And to be quite honest, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

They know what makes you tick. What gets you to fold. What pushes you to give out.

Bobbing their heads back and forth, kissing up your length, slowly but surely covering your cock in their spit, determined to make you crumble. Demanding your attention, demanding your all. They have you exactly where they want.

“Yes, God, fuck yes—fuck—so fucking good—” you sputter, hanging your jaw wide, your vision dulling, utterly in awe at how natural they both are at giving head. Like this is far from their first go-around, like this is routine. It helps that their lips are shaped in a manner meant to fit cock.

Like they’re meant for you.

Their breath lingers on your skin, sends shivers down your spine. A hint of satisfaction at hearing you moan and give them their due praise.

Slurping deliciously on your shaft, Danielle pushes herself ahead of Minji, her nose brushing against your groin, taking you deep into her throat. She gags—chokes—on your cock; a little too much too soon. Her partner slowly draws her back, but Danielle slaps her hand away, refusing to quit like it’s a vice, like she can’t live without it.

Sucking, licking, tasting every inch of your cock, leaving you short of breath.

It was never a surprise that Danielle was the needy one. Even before tonight, she looked natural for the part.

Eventually, she does concede and pulls out regretfully, equally as overwhelmed as you are. Spit fills the sides of her lips, dashed with your precum. Minji looks at her with disgust; this wasn’t part of the plan.

The mischievous girl she is, Danielle taunts her with a wordless gesture before giving way, implying that she’s better at giving head, inciting a little competition.

Shaking her head as she inches toward your cock, Minji takes some time to apologize: “Sorry about Dani. She can be—a little too much. Even for us.”

To say Danielle is a little too much would be underselling it—she’s the devil incarnate.

But back to the matter at hand. Minji is much more gentle at taking you in. Still that’s a hilariously low bar, because she, too, can’t help but shove your cock deep in her throat after a little taste.

And your perception of Minji gets flipped on its head. She grabs your thighs like she were to fall if she lets go. You can see the effort; her suction is stronger, her cheeks are hollowing out, and the determination on her brows. She’s taken Danielle’s challenge personally. At this point, the original goal has been completely lost in the shuffle.

Minji meets your eyes while your cock is comfortably lodged deep down her throat. Humming a saccharine melody, mouthing incomprehensible jargon, seeking your approval.

By the glint in her eyes—she won’t take no for an answer.

All you can do is endure, hold on a few minutes longer, perhaps more—mind, body, and spirit willing. You’re dangerously close to falling apart. Her mouth is an inescapable prison; torturing your senses with unbelievable amounts of ecstasy. You can only wonder how you’re still standing after this much pleasure in the form of sensory punishment.

She’s daring you to say the magic words. You can’t take it any longer.

So you yield.

“Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum—” Before the pleasure becomes overwhelming to form coherent speech.

In response, Minji graciously pulls out, but not without inflicting a little more torment. She releases her grip on your cock with a satisfying, neuron activating pop from her now stained lips. Still, you have no time to catch your breath as they’re back onto you as quickly as they retreat, their fingers coiling around your base, stroking you hard and fast over the edge without restraint.

“Cum for us,” you hear their demand, their shaky breaths making your cock throb beyond control. “Cum all over our faces.”

And who wouldn’t?

You’re thrusting wildly at air, having quietly accepted the inevitable. There’s relief in knowing how fucked you are regardless. It makes letting go all the easier.

Body trembling, legs wobbling, stomach churning. Cumming.

Spilling into the void, your eyes completely slammed shut, unable to bear the pleasure any longer.

Minji and Danielle are waiting at the other side. Taking every pulse, streak, rope of your cum with their greedy mouths wide open, tongues sticking out. You’re doing exactly what they want, using their faces as a canvas, making them an outlet for your lust. The gushing sensation burns every fiber in your loins, breaking you down until you’re milked completely dry.

The aftershocks linger long after.

When you regain a semblance of clarity, you’re greeted by a pair of mischievous and triumphant smiles. Minji and Danielle are presenting your own handiwork: their faces completely covered in your cum, dripping down their lips and chin. Tongues swiping their wet lips clean, happily drinking you all up.

The image is permanently seared into your memory. You can never look at them the same way after this.

And they stay there, grinning from ear to ear. On the floor, letting you soak it all in. How you’ve ruined their faces and reputation. How you’ll eventually ruin yours. Behind the friendly facade, they’re no better than anyone else—willing to throw everything on the line for even a slight competitive advantage.

You can’t get over the fact that you’ve committed what’s essentially sacrilege. Never mind their current predicament; this can be its own scandal.

Before you can fully make sense of everything, the pair break their silence. Their eyes linger on yours. One after the other:

“You taste so good.”

It doesn’t sound playful or teasing in any way. It’s a sincere compliment, and that’s what makes your heart flutter.

And then your body gives out. Instinctively falls back onto the edge of the mattress. Laying down comes second nature. It had been a long day, and Minji and Danielle more than left you completely spent. Any other circumstance, it would be easy to call it a night.

But there’s still work left to do, and the girls will make you hear it.

“Hey, you’re not done, are you?” Minji’s already on her feet, hitting your ribs, keeping you from falling unconscious. “You still owe us your end of our deal.”

Looking at her through lidded eyes, your response comes out slurred, as though you came home hammered after five drinks. Only one word is clear: “—Laptop.”

Minji hears you, tells Danielle to search for your laptop before returning her attention. “Where?”

“Living room. At my desk.”

Minji straddles herself on your lap as she gives Danielle the command. You’re preoccupied by the lovely sight hovering atop you to notice the loud yelp that rips throughout the apartment, followed by a choir of apologies from a whiny, low voice. You can only hope that your neighbors don’t knock; you can only deal with two uninvited visitors at this time.

“Sorry. I—I tripped over a loose wire and almost landed on the TV. Oops.” Danielle returns to the bedroom with your laptop in hand, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Lean back,” is Minji’s command, and you effortlessly comply. Even with her ass resting on your lap, she’s as light as a feather, letting you wiggle back onto the headrest with little difficulty.

Danielle joins you two in bed, resting the laptop on your bare chest. Then Minji clambers over to the side opposite her member, lifting the screen. “We did our part. Now do yours.”

You give Minji a tired, thousand-yard stare. As if telling her, ‘Really?’ after what transpired moments ago. She reciprocates the sentiment. No words necessary.

In a few ways, she reminds you of your boss. Only she’s way younger, hotter, and kinder sounding.

With a deep sigh, you fire up the laptop as the members lean over to make sure you follow through. A few clicks here, a password there, entered one letter at a time, and you’re inside the classified data storage like they wanted. Thousands upon thousands of sensitive folders, files, and documents—they have no idea where to start.

“All of them. Send all of those,” Danielle demands, in a rush.

Pausing, you give Dani a frustrated glare, also telling her ‘Really?’ with your raised eyebrows.

“We don’t need all of that, Dani.” Minji’s eyes laser in on a specific file reading Competition. Pointing at it, she says, “Send this one. That one looks interesting.”

Even though you’re responsible for data security, you are as clueless to everything as the idols are. You don’t even have access to the executive floor where all the corporate shit is involved, nor do you have entry to where the idols stay. Your job is to keep data stored and hidden from the public, no questions asked. But you click anyway, following along without hesitation, ignoring the possible consequences.

It’s far too late to renege.

“Can’t believe I’m willingly doing this shit for the devil,” you comment, knowing where this information will eventually end up. It’s akin to selling your soul. You’re starting to regret everything.

Minji has a suggestion. “How about you send it to our emails instead?”

“Still gonna end up with her. I’ll just drop it anonymously on the internet. I don’t care anymore.”

So you log in to your private job forum account on a site where frustrated workers can vent frustrations about their companies. There had been a fair share of ex-employees airing out their grievances against the agency, most of which are buried by obvious bots and snitches.

There’s no burying what’s gonna come out now.

Typing up a simple paragraph, attaching the entire folder full of documents, carrying all sorts of information about who knows what.

With a deep breath, you hit Post, and may God have mercy on your soul.

You close the laptop, but Pandora’s box has been opened.

Now it’s all on them.

The reward is worth the trouble, at least at the moment. Minji and Danielle each plant a peck on your respective cheek for doing the deed. Smiling after the kiss, gently caressing your hair, mumbling: “Thank you. Really.”

You merely shrug, as if you’ve set off a devastating bomb with world-shattering consequences.

Danielle removes the laptop off your chest, setting it aside by your bedside shelf. “So, what now? Which one of us do you wanna take first?”

And perhaps you need it—need the adrenaline of Minji and Danielle getting fucked, ruined to bits. Something to clear your mind from what’s to come.

In the midst of the anxious calm, Danielle finds new ways to break tension. Her stomach rumbles loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. Minji laughs—heartily.

It’s enough to get a light chuckle out of you too. Their charm comes off as natural.

“Scratch that. Minji, you go on ahead,” she quips, before rolling out of bed and limping straight to the kitchen for a bite.

Never mind that she didn’t ask you about what’s available, or that you’ve even allowed her to take from the fridge, or that the food you offered them has gone cold.

“You heard her,” Minji says, pressing her hands on your chest, rolling herself back, your cock inches away from her ass. “Sit back and relax. Don’t have to do anything.”

Slowly but surely, Minji adjusts, demanding your attention stay on her face. Her glow, her beauty is undeniable. It’s in the little things. The light brush of her hair. The tiny scratches she’s leaving on your skin. The small, gentle air kisses. The anticipation gradually builds as you feel your cock hardening once more. Perfectly devised, all done purposefully to keep you on edge.

“Gonna let you in me now,” she murmurs, descending onto your shaft, the pressure of her fingers deepening on your skin, keeping her eyes on you. Your breath hitches, like time has come to a complete standstill, the suspense at its apex, and then—

“Oh fuck!”

The words may be delivered light and airy, but they rip through your ears like thunder. Burying herself to the hilt, Minji crumbles almost instantly, body fidgeting uncontrollably. Her jaw slacks wide, eyes slam shut, her mind overridden with the sensation of your cock deep in her pussy.

On your end, you let out a deep groan, the only feeling registering in your mind being: Wet. Minji’s so goddamn wet.

“So big—so fucking big—” Minji whines, choked up, her fingers pressing deep into your skin like she’s trying to tear you to shreds. Unable to move, it’s evident that she’s still new to this, new to the feeling of your cock.

It’s not intentional, but her face is melding into something pornographic. Such a sweet and pure looking girl, fragile and delicate to the touch, shattering to pieces.

Her pussy is anything but pure.

“Christ—Minji—so fucking—” you mutter, gasping for breath as your hands claim rest on her waist. The last word in your sentence finds itself stuck on the edge of your tongue, but your little resolve lets it fight its way through: “Tight.”

That one word seems to light a fire in Minji’s soul, because she begins to move. Dragging her hips upward, the suffocating pull of your cock unwilling to let go of her cunt, the musical squelch. Your shaft reappears for a moment, covered in her slick, coated in her nectar, before it falls back into its rightful place inside her. She crashes onto you again, and the sensation hits as hard as the first time.

Minji drops her head low. Lets out a grunt. A single thrust and she’s already fighting for dear life. Her features are morphing erratically, all muddled and incapable of remaining still. Her abs tense, that already lean figure shrinking more than physically possible, but she’s not done. Gritting her teeth, your cock sends her head in a tailspin, driving her crazy.

“Have I ever told you how fucking big your cock is?” she asks, like it didn’t register in your brain the first time. Hearing it from her saccharine voice never grows tiresome.

“Nope. Not at all,” you joke, which she spurns with a shake of her head.

“God, it feels so fucking right,” she remarks, and you share the sentiment. Like you’re meant for each other.

Perfectly positioned and angled inside Minji’s cunt, you’re more than happy to sit there and stay in her warmth all night long. Let her figure her way out. Instead, you guide her through, giving her torrid, deep strokes. Hands roam the curves of her svelte figure, admiring her at her most vulnerable. Even when she looks fucked like this, she’s still flawless.

Though her breaths are shaky, Minji gathers her bearings and paces along. Slow and steady, her hips rising and falling onto you like waves, sending ripples through your body below. Everything is falling into place. It’s euphoric. She’s got her head held high; you’re holding her like she’s your grandest prize.

Composed, calm, certain—Minji follows the beat of your drum. It’s finally sinking in. How truly sweet it feels.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Spearing, thrusting into her, your bodies crashing into each other, filling your ears with a chorus of dry, airy moans, backed with the wet sounds of skin against skin. Your breaths hitching, bouncing around the bedroom, spilling out into the rest of the apartment. At this moment, it’s only you and Minji, making the most of what little time you have left.

Minji bounces on you. Tits, ass, her body naturally falling into your grasp. As quickly as she recaptures it, her composure is falling apart. You have a hand on her cheek, squeezing yourself a handful of flesh before giving it a playful slap. She yelps, but she pushes on. Demands you keep going. That you use every inch of her.

“Harder—harder—harder—”

An easy command that’s easier to follow.

You oblige, being given the green light to Minji’s shapely ass. Back and forth, giving each cheek a vicious barrage of spanks till her skin is marked red with your handprints. Her voice goes hoarse with every whine, every mewl, every moan. Asking for more punishment, because she knows she can take it all. Body clenching, her pussy fucked beyond repair.

Gasping, trembling, her pace has spiralled out of control, riding you in fast intervals, giving you no room to breathe.

“Cum for me,” she rasps, hips gyrating quickly, her nails leaving deeper scratches on your flesh, drawing a dash of blood. “Cum in me, please.”

“You first,” is your counter, knowing you have each other’s bodies read like a book. You’re reaching your breaking point a second time. “Cum all over this cock.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” A simple chant, but the most satisfying one to hear. You’ve never heard her this excited, this eager, that her body naturally follows. “God—I’m gonna fucking cum so hard—”

Pushing deep into her, exerting more effort than she’d led you to believe. Your bodies working together to reach that climax. Her wispy moans turning to shouts, cries of overwhelming pleasure, refusing to dash the brakes, willing to run herself into the ground to chase that conceivable high.

It rips through her body. Breaks her clean in half.

Her head rolled back, locked in place. Your hands gripped on her waist once more, keeping her steady. Still delivering punishing strokes as Minji cums over your cock. Burning through your nerves, dragging you down with her.

You repay the favor, joining her in blissful climax moments later. Unloading into her cunt as it pulses, milks you dry again, resting your head on the headrest. Squeezing into her creamy flesh, letting Minji fall into your arms. Like it was destiny, your lips catch hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

You feel her. The aftershocks of her orgasm. Her body giving out this time, her hands clutching into an embrace, her breath against your skin. Still embedded inside her, even as the fire dies down, taking it slow, unwilling to leave the warmth of her core. Leaking onto your sheets, leaving a permanent stain on your bed.

“Minji,” you gently shake, keeping her awake. She laughs into your chest.

Staring at you with glossy, half-lidded eyes, her words reduced to a silent whisper. A fitting tone. “Still have Dani to go,” she reminds, more of a warning than a cause for celebration. Thankfully, she hasn’t reemerged from the kitchen.

“Right.”

“Need any advice on how to handle her?” she asks, like you’re about to tame a wild beast. You can only imagine how wild Danielle is.

Your hand traces circles on her back, fondles vast waves of raven silk. “Every little tip counts.”

“Just—” Minji lifts her head softly, breathing into your neck. “Fuck her like an animal. Make her scream. That’ll shut her up.”

Considering the damage Minji did to you—and she’s the gentler one—Danielle might be on a whole other level.

And speak of the devil: Danielle’s voice fills the room, boisterous and whimsy. In the time when you and Minji were fucking each other’s brains out, she regained the pep in her step—and her attitude.

“You two were fucking like animals,” she remarks, flopping onto the bed, smiling from ear to ear. As if she had overheard everything, and to be fair—you might have caused a ruckus worthy of a noise complaint. “Got me thinking, ‘Damn.’ I should have stayed put. Got me wet imagining what you were doing.”

Not a single mention of what she’s eaten from your fridge or the thought of compensation.

“My turn, girl.” Danielle gestures to her exhausted companion, her patience instantly flipping like a light switch. She gives her only one warning before forcefully pushing her to the side, taking her place on your lap. “What did Minji do, hm? Rode you? Used you like a bar of soap?

She takes a look at the stain between her legs, the sticky puddle around your groin. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

“Can’t blame her. Always loves to flaunt that ass of hers.”

There’s a tinge of jealousy in Danielle’s tone, uncaring that she can still hear her clearly.

“But since she let you sit back and do nothing, I’m gonna make you work for it now.”

Danielle spins around, presenting her petite ass and soaked, throbbing pussy for you in clear view. She’s on her fours, thrusting, pushing forward, pretending to fuck herself on your cock, causing the bed to shake.

Giving you a preview of how exactly to ruin her.

If you weren’t still completely spent from Minji, your feral impulses would demand that you rush in and lay your hands on her tight figure.

But no—even the simple act of leaning forward proves to be an immense struggle. You’re still reeling, slowly recovering from all the aftershocks. Two vicious orgasms haven’t been kind to your body in any form whatsoever.

Looking over her shoulder, hair falling directly right in her face, Danielle taunts you. “Can’t handle it, babe? Such a damn shame. I was looking forward to having that big cock of yours fill my pussy up.”

Like a corpse rising from the grave, your hand suddenly grabs her ass, catching her completely unprepared. Her mouth drops wide, playful and animated, as if it were part of the act. It’s what Danielle’s best at: pushing your buttons, setting you off, bringing out your worst.

“Did I say something to wake you up, tough guy?” Danielle continues to run her tongue, daring you to stop holding back. A little more and it’s not gonna end well for her. “Is it the fact that you can’t handle this pussy?”

Right then and there, a vicious slap echoes through the room, followed by an equally loud cry. Her cheek turning sore and bright red in an instant.

You and Danielle stare directly into each other’s eyes, caught up in the heat of the moment. Time comes to a complete standstill.

And then, she starts laughing. Uncontrollably.

Shaking her head in disbelief, brimming with delight. “I knew you had it in you.”

Her erratic change in attitude leaves you baffled. Trying to make sense of her right now won’t do you any good, nor is it worth exerting any level of effort. All you can do is watch and expect the unexpected.

“Slow learner, huh?” Danielle says, as if that’s gonna help you understand even a little. “If I hadn’t made it any more obvious, I want you to fuck me. Use me. Run me to the ground. Fuck me till I can’t walk.”

Of course you knew what she meant all along. Minji warned you beforehand. It’s just that you’re a simpler guy. She wants you to wreck her—that’s easier to follow than this roundabout nonsense.

That being said, she’s wiggling her ass before you, your hand spreading her core a tad wider. Her smaller hole and cunt glisten, gleam in the dark full of sheen. “I did you the service of lubing myself while you were busy.”

All the more to keep you from struggling. She may be a loud mouth, but she can be sensible and considerate.

Danielle’s gaze lingers, anticipating your response. There’s a little pressure to follow through and deliver on her wants. Your cock is starting to harden, ready for another round.

But you’re not there just yet.

Instead, you plant your other hand over her scalp, face her away, disgusted by her bratty face while you work. Your lower body has regained enough strength for you to climb behind her, inching close to her ear.

And with four simple words, each and every one delivered with dire importance, Danielle’s world is absolutely rocked.

“My bedroom, my rules.”

Instinctively, Danielle moans. She trembles, straightening her back as you line up your hand to give her a second smack on her sore cheek, filling the room with her cry. Minji joins you from behind, positioned over your ear to guide you through the pleasure and the process, when really, she’s only there to watch you humble her fellow member.

And you don’t give it to Danielle right away; she’s undeserving of the immediate reward.

Diving head first into her slick core, your tongue straightens her cunt, laps up her nectar, making her quiver.

“Ah—oh my fuck—”

Sloppy and straightforward, you slip your tongue into the crevice of her heat, kissing her pretty pussy, leaving Danielle a moaning mess. She’s gushing—mewling—about the discomfort, the pain, the pleasure you’re imposing on her, leaving her wanting more.

Minji calls it while you’re buried in her member’s cunt, flexing and pulsing against your tongue. Draining every little drop you can from her throbbing core. Danielle can only brace for comfort, if there’s even any, gripped to the sheets, in dire need for cock, fiending like it were a vice.

You continue to bring the pressure. Your hands coiling around her thighs, spreading them ever so wide, addicted to the taste of slick, filling your dry mouth like it were water in the desert. She’s panting, desperately seeking oxygen, losing her mind, her vision. She can only pray that the teasing will end.

Unfortunately for her, you’re not a merciful god.

Without care or concern, you stick your tongue deep into her cunt, mark her pussy like she’s yours, suck up all the cum you can take without remorse or consequence. It fucks up Danielle like crazy. A second or two longer and she would have shattered into a million pieces. If she crashes and burns before you give her what she wants, then so be it.

Once you’ve had your share of her slick, you pull back—but not without giving yourself one more sampling. The music Danielle makes from her lips is something else. A mix of moans and obscenities in every tone imaginable.

You have to remind yourself that your tongue isn’t the end goal; your load is. Yet you can’t help but slide a finger to grab another helping. This is the greed they condemn in the Bible.

Offering your soiled digit to Minji, she politely declines with a shake of her head, whispering that she has it on the regular. Some people are just insanely blessed.

But back to Danielle, she’s trembling all over, on the verge of collapsing onto the sheets. She’s under the impression that she can’t give in without your permission, and good on her for recognizing your authority over her.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” you tell her, stroking your cock inches away from her glistening cunt, rubbing your tip against her inner thigh, not giving her a second to relax. “You’re gonna regret saying all that shit to me when we’re done.”

Danielle’s already apologizing, frantically shaking her head, expecting the worst.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” she begs, like that’s gonna change the past, or the outcome. It’s too late for that.

You push your hips forward, and God—you swear your ears are gonna burst from Danielle’s endless groan.

Thanks to how soaked her core is, even before your tongue, you effortlessly glide into her cunt and impale her to the womb. Breathless, asphyxiating, overwhelming. You feel every bit of her pulsing against your cock. The grip proves to be too much. Hands around her airtight waist, your abs tensing as you take her from behind in a picture perfect moment.

And you stay there, let the sensation wash over, give it time to fully register. To keep your head sane, your fingers trail to her taut, sensitive nipples, giving them a flick and a pinch, playing a cruel game with her patience.

“Oh my God—” Danielle whines, lowering her head, just bearing the full brunt of your weight pressing over her. To her credit, she’s holding up well. “Give it to me—fuck that big fucking cock into me already—”

The more she begs, the less you’re willing to comply. Languid, painstakingly slow, agonizing. That’s how you draw your cock back, even with the smooth glide of her warmth, like you’re removing a stake from her heart, leaving her to die before you thrust right back in.

You can’t help but crack a smile, taking grip of her hair, turning it into a makeshift leash to angle her head.

“You’re so fucking tight, Dani,” you mumble against her ear, your hot breath driving her wild.

Before she can say a word, you deny her the respite, fucking her to pieces, reducing the helpless woman to a heap of tears, moans, and curses.

Pounding into her cunt, letting your bodies do all the talking. There’s hardly a need to speak. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping skin, Danielle’s tireless, lewd sounds, and your groans. The bed quaking along with your pace adds to the immersion. You’re willing to end the world just to break Dani in half.

Again and again, continuing to fan the flames, your breaths matching your thrusts. Losing yourself in the madness of Danielle’s tight, suffocating cunt. She’s encouraging you to keep going. Minji joins too. Echoing, reinforcing all these twisted ideas in your head. Don’t fucking stop. As if you had any intention to quit. When you have a pussy this fucking good, this thoroughly stretched out—

You can’t get enough.

But even your body has limits. You can only hang on for so long. It’s beyond your control now; you’ll eventually be consumed by the very fire you started. Trapped between her legs, it’s heaven and hell all at once.

“Dani—I’m almost there—”

You’re throwing it out there to the wind, expecting a playful response, a desperate demand, a call to action. Instead, you’re met with the usual: her airy moans. She’s completely lost in her own bliss, shaking, bouncing with every thrust, unable to register a single word, only cock.

It’s a strange yet beautiful sight; Danielle as your personal cocksleeve, freely used as an outlet for your pleasure.

With your brain turning to mindless mush, her pussy milks your cock for your worth. Draining every last drop, blasting specks and eventually blanks into her tight hole till it’s gushing from her cunt. Slick mixed with her juices, spilling down her legs and onto sheets, beyond the point of repair.

No time to let the satisfaction sink in. Pleasure turns to relief almost immediately. There’s no celebration nor comfort. You’re hanging on by a thread. Sinking back onto the headrest, your vision blurring, the image of Danielle’s pussy throbbing—leaking—as her body crouches down in a pool of your cum, still on her fours. From screaming her heart out, being an insufferable brat, reduced to an absolute, irredeemable mess.

Minji crawls over to Danielle, slowly guides her beside you, reassuring her that you’ve fucked her senseless. It’s the understatement of the century.

“Stay here,” you tell Minji, using the dying sliver of energy you have left as your world gradually fades to black. Leaving her with a soft smile, you lay down and finally call it a night.

The last thing you feel is the wrap of an arm over your chest. Then another. And finally, a faint whisper, followed a soft peck:

“Goodnight, sweet prince.”

—————

Unsurprisingly, when you wake up, there’s not a trace of them to be found in the morning.

Check your clock and you’re already 30 minutes behind. Sun’s already bright and overhead, so you rush through your morning routine to be at work like normal. When you get there, you’re already an hour and a half late. You can blame the morning traffic for that. But tardiness is the least of your concerns.

Overnight, the company is scrambling—even more than normal. A look at the TV screens and it’s oh so easy to figure why. It’s all over the news and social media: a high data security breach seemingly exposing the company’s media manipulation, countless backhanded statements and remarks about rival companies and various idol name drops. So much negative press that has led to calls about a deep investigation into the entire operation.

You can only wonder as to how this all happened.

And then you see them. All five together, including the same two girls you fucked the night before.

As they step into one of the lifts with their staff, Minji and Danielle are the last to enter, catching you even from a distance with a smile and playful wink before they disappear from view.

Before you can even react, your attention is drawn by a much less welcoming presence. A harsh voice calls your name as she walks past you and towards the elevators, carrying with her a reminder of the consequences:

“Come see me in my office. Let’s talk about the data breach.”

Time to put those newly acquired million dollars to good use.

————— (A/N: Thank you for the commission! Always wanted to write NewJeans/NJZ again, especially Minji, but never had an idea. Excited for their redebut, here's praying everything works out for them. Thank you for reading!)

#kpop smut #njz smut #minji smut #danielle smut #newjeans smut

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absfemme · 2 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/absfemme/778302249262891008/anyway-send-me-more-fic-reqs-please-im-so-bored?source=share

ANYTHING ABT ABBY DICKING U DOWN PLEASEEEEEEE

cw ; meandomabby subreader. daddy kink. strap use. slight overstim. pussy slapping. face slapping. spanking.

“why you runnin', huh? take it. take this shit.”

a heavy slap lands on your thigh, the sting blooming into a red, abby-shaped handprint. not that you care—your poor hole is too full, too stretched and messy to give a shit. the sharp bite of pain only makes you shudder, you twitch in response.

she’s been at this for what feels like forever, keeping you spread out over her lap, making you take every inch of her. every time you try to squirm away (when did you start moving so much?), she yanks you right back in like it’s nothing.

"stay fucking still," she growls, delivering another sharp smack—this time against your dripping cunt. you jolt, a strangled cry ripping from your throat as heat floods your body. your clit throbs at the impact, sending another wave of slick dripping down the length of her as well as new fresh, hot tears down your face.

she rolls her eyes at your persistent cries, scoffing. you’re so fucking soft. it’s almost sad.

maybe you shouldn’t have begged for this—shouldn’t have pulled at her shirt, shouldn’t have whined in that needy little voice about how badly you wanted to be fucked while she was busy. please, abby. need your cock. please, daddy, please.

yeah, you asked for this.

"aw, you crying? is it too much?"

you nod, hoping for mercy, for even a little relief. but all that does is make her go harder. of course she does. fucking bully.

“but you were just begging for this dick a second ago, weren’t you?"

your nodding is frantic, desperate—like it’ll change anything, like she’ll ease up. but abby only snickers, fingers digging into your cheeks as she tilts your face up to hers. her thumb drags through the wet mess on your skin, not to wipe it away, but to spread it, smearing your own ruin across your cheek. a silent reminder of just how far gone you already are.

“nah,” she mutters, voice dropping lower, rougher. “quit with the tears. you wanted this, remember?”

her hips snap forward, forcing a choked gasp from you. your hands scramble against her arms, not to push her away—just to hold onto something. she’s so deep it’s close to unbearable, and yet your cunt takes it—likes it—clenching down like you don’t know whether to run or keep her right there.

abby laughs again, a low, mean thing. she leans in, pressing her lips to your ear, breath hot and warming.

“still wanna act like it’s too much?” she punctuates the question with another sharp thrust, dragging a broken sob from your throat. “c’mon, use your words, baby. tell me how bad you need it.”

but you can’t—you can barely even think, and she knows it. knows she’s got you exactly where she wants you.

her hand slides down, fingers wrapping around your throat—not tight enough to cut off your air, but just enough to make you feel it, to remind you who’s in control. her grip is steady, unshakable, even as your body jerks with every brutal thrust.

“thaaaaat’s it,” she grits out, watching the way your face twists. “take it. just like that.”

your nails dig into her forearm, desperate for something to hold onto as the pressure builds. she knows exactly what she’s doing, keeping you trapped between the deep drag of her cock and the bruising grip on your neck.

"gonna cum?" her voice is a pitch higher now, mocking you, teasing you, but there’s something hungrier underneath it. she wants you to. needs you to.

you nod again, gasping out something that might be her name, might just be a broken mess of syllables.

abby glances down, groaning at the mess between your thighs—the way your cunt drools around her cock, thick and sticky, leaving a filthy trail of grool smeared along her skin.

"fuckin’ do it," she growls, slamming into you harder, deeper. "cum all over this dick."

the last bit of restraint snaps, and your body obeys instantly, back arching as the pleasure crashes over you, raw and overwhelming. you swear you black out for a second, the sensation so sharp it’s almost too much.

abby groans at the way you squeeze around her, her pace turning sloppy, desperate, like she’s chasing her own high through the mess of you. she fucks you through it, dragging it out, making sure you feel all of it.

even as your body trembles from the aftershocks, she doesn’t slow, her grip unrelenting as she ruts into you with that same hungry intensity.

"can’t do it?" she mocks, dragging her lips along your jaw, breath hot against your sweat-slick skin. "you asked for this.”

⤷ tags ; @blackdykegirlblogger @caninecutiez @graciedollie

#ABSFEMME ♥︎#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #mean abby #abby smut #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #wlw #wlw smut #lesbian

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okwonyo · 21 hours ago

Text

LIKE I LOVE YOU ⟡ when they are jealous𓈒

𝗦𝗢𝗕𝗥𝗘──── 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒, 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒.

【 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 】 𝑑’── enhyepn & f!r 12OO fluff established relationship ˊᯅˋ kissing skinship

骚人 ܃ this is so silly ..

reblogs⠀｡｡ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG

he wouldn’t lie, especially not to you, by saying that he is not the jealous type. he already knows how obvious it is, at least to you, that’s for sure. when he has a woman as pretty as you are by his side— of course, he doesn’t like whenever someone try to take what is so pretty and so his.

he tries to stay discreet about it, however. he is not the kind to make a scene or pull you out of this conversation with the man that is obviously trying to hit on you. he thanks the deity that made him lucky enough to be loved by you. he loves to see a man getting rightfully rejected.

he can’t help the smile from creeping on his face when you come back to him. he tries to play it off, like he doesn’t care. “was that a good conversation?” he asks, eyes fixated on the man you were talking to earlier.

he knows he miserably failed at playing it cool as soon as the words leave the barrier of his lips. he closes his eyes and mentally slaps himself while you wipe your head towards his direction, with a wide teasing smile, “lee heeseung, are you jealous?

JAY

this further proves a point you established a long time ago— which is that your boyfriend should have never downloaded any social media in the first place. but especially tiktok should be banned from his phone.

“is this seriously how you would answer?” crossing his arms, the man asks. his raised eyebrow gives him a serious look that shouldn’t be funny, but desperately is to you. his expression slowly turns from an annoyed one to the slightest and most lovely pout you have ever seen.

you weren’t aware of how upset he could get over roleplaying fake scenarios he made in his head. all of them starring you getting hit on by a guy he made up in his head. it surely comes from a trend he saw on tiktok and thinking about the current situation makes you giggle even more.

in the middle of the mall, with the chips’ alley on his side and the soda’s one on the other, he looks too cute for you to make fun of him. you whisper as you kiss his pout lovingly, “no, ‘m sorry.” and it immediately turns into a smile.

JAKE

he is not the jealous type. he doesn’t get annoyed at guys that hit on you nor at the ones that stare at you in public—because he would do the same, honestly, if he didn’t already have you. and even if you are dating already, staring and flirting at you, he really does it a lot.

but, if there is one thing he is possessive about, it’s your attention. he loves to have your eyes on him, he loves when you laugh at his jokes, he loves when you don’t pay attention to anyone but him.

therefore, he almost feels like crying when he watches you study. your eyes won’t leave you laptop, and you look so pretty under the spring’s sun rays shining through the windows — he wants to have your attention on him.

from his position on the bed, laying on his side has he looks at you next to him, he pokes your arm cutely. “babe,” he calls you, a gentle pout on his lips when you look at him. “can you give me attention, please?”

SUNGHOON

he never says it. whenever he is jealous, he never talks but it shows through his moves, through the way he acts. with how much of a fan of public display of affection he already is, it gets worse whenever he gets jealous.

all it takes is a single thing, something that you might almost miss— but he doesn’t. he notices right away, whenever someone is looking at you a little too much. with that gaze that says that they want a taste of what is his.

“what is wrong with you?” you laugh quietly at the way your boyfriend pulls you close to him, at how he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and hides his face in the crook of your neck. here, as you are in the queue for the movies.

you may look like those annoying couples that can’t stay away from each other in public spaces, but he doesn’t care. he hums against your skin, “nothing, i just want you close.”

SUNOO

“are you talking to you boyfriend?” his voices appears behind you out of nowhere. you wipe your head to the voice’s direction, just to see him peek over your shoulder.

saying that your heart jumps out of your chest is an understatement. the surprise his voice created in you is ridiculous, confirming that you almost forgot he was there.

you push his shoulder playfully, “don’t do things like that?” you laugh and he rolls his eyes. he doesn’t stop trying to find something in your phone, looking at it like it personally offended him. you chuckle out of disbelief, “don’t tell me you were getting jealous.”

he doesn’t answer, still looking at your phone screen to see that you were on a clothing website. one look through your showed basket to tell that you were one click away from buying all the items. “and don’t tell me you were going to buy this without my card.”

JUNGWON

there is nothing that makes him more happy and proud of himself than making you happy. he adores how joyful you are, how your smile shines so bright whenever he gives you something you love.

he was beyond happy. until the human sized hello kitty plushie you just got became his rival. ever since you kissed him as a thank you, your eyes have not left the cartoon cat. you have been holding it as if it was your lifeline for a while now.

his eye twitch when hello kitty follows you to your shared bedroom, “your boyfriend is here,” he says, a little sulky when he watches you put the plushie between your side of the bed and his. “can you give him cuddles too?”

you don’t even have the time to put the plushie on the side nor to think about doing it before he does it for you. then in a instant, all his warmth and weight is pressing you into the mattress.

RIKI

he doesn't like it when it happens, he doesn’t like it all. he feels it, blossoming in his chest and creeping through his throat as flowers in the beginning of spring. he tries to not let jealousy take over him so easily.

but sometimes, he just can’t— and it’s always over the smallest things, about the silliest situation. it’s not like he can help it, especially right now. he knows you have been friends with that guy for a while, it doesn’t make him less jealous, however.

he stands with his hands in his pocket while you and the guy whose name he forgot are talking. he towers over you both and stands tall as he stares down at the man in front of you. your boyfriend is intimidating, he knows it, by the way the other’s eyes shoot towards him. good.

he wants to show off even more, to let his presence known. so he slides his hand out of his pocket before wrapping it around your waist. then he pulls you closer in a swift mention as you giggle.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 days ago

Text

3 Types of Neck Kisses

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Here are the 3 different ways Bucky kisses your neck.

Warning: light smut - fingering and p in v

Lovingly

It's late and you don't want to fall asleep. You just want to enjoy this moment with Bucky. Now with him campaigning to be the next Congressman, he's hardly home. You don't see him much and miss him like crazy, but you can't fault him for this.

You're cuddled up into Bucky now. The tv in your shared bedroom plays on low volume. He face is nuzzled into your neck and you feel his breath on your skin. Your arms are wrapped around him, fingers running through his hair that has him purring like Alpine.

His own arms are wrapped around you as well. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you even closer to him. He presses kisses onto your neck and mumbles, "Love you, baby," as he peppers more kisses along your neck.

You let out a content sigh and mumble back, "I love you too, Bucky."

Sexily

You didn't let him have his way with you when you stepped out of the bedroom earlier. The dress you picked out for tonight's charity event clung to you in delicious ways, yet still created a classy aura around you.

You couldn't help but snicker as Bucky's eyes raked down your body, "Down boy. We're going to be late and this is your event."

He pouted, "Baby-"

You shook your head, "Nope. Besides, I spent all this time to look pretty, I don't want it to go to waste. Now let's go."

Now, it's well into the night. Bucky's already said his piece, thanking all of the sponsors, donations, and attendees for the night. Then the dancefloor opened up, more drinks started flowing, which meant no one would notice Bucky dragging you to the nearest unoccupied room.

As soon as you enter the room, Bucky shuts the door, locking it behind him. He presses you against the door, hiking up your dress, "Been teasing me all night in this fucking dress," he presses a desperate kiss to your lips and groans when he realizes, "Fuck, no panties either?"

"Surprise," you reply with a smirk and the man moans into your neck. He kisses and nips into your skin as he wraps your leg around his waist. His metal fingers rub at your clit.

You grip at the lapels of his suit jacket, "Buck-"

"Just wanna make sure you're ready for me, baby. Been trying to hide this hard on for hours," he murmurs into your skin.

"Been dripping for you since we got here."

"Naughty girl," he says as he bites into your neck and slowly enters you. You gasp at he fills you and do your best to keep quiet while he fucks you.

Comforting

The assassination attempt wasn't expected. He thought that after everything he's done, even being a close friend to both Captain America's, people's view of him would be better.

Obviously he was wrong.

Being shot at was nothing new to him, but you? It was foreign territory. You've never been a part of that side of Bucky's life. You never had to fight aliens or enhanced individuals. You were a complete civilian, so of course you'd take this a lot harder than him.

Bucky hated it.

Now you were plagued with nightmares of him being shot and it broke his heart whenever he woke to you whimpering in your sleep, crying for him.

"No, no, please," Bucky hears you say as he stirs from his slumber, "Bucky, no," he hears again.

He scoops you into his arms, "Darlin', I'm here. I'm here, baby. It's okay," he whispers, wiping your tears away with his vibranium arm.

Your face scrunches and then your eyes blink open. Eyes red and watery, you rasp out, "Bucky?"

"You were having another nightmare, sweetheart."

You groan, rolling away from him, wanting to hide, "I'm sorry."

He pulls you close, spooning you from behind, "Don't be. I'm sorry you had to witness that. I'm used to being shot at, but you-I wish you never witnessed that." He leans in, kissing the back of your neck, "But I'm here, sweetheart. I'm safe." he tightens his hold on you.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry for this." He kisses your neck again, "I love you, I'm here. I'm here, baby. I'm safe."

He continues to repeat these words to you, while kissing your neck, reminding you that your nightmares are just that, nightmares.

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine

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sakuraszn · 3 days ago

Note

may I please request a Luffy x fem reader (they aren’t together yet) but Luffy has a big crush on the reader without realizing and he’s always super touchy with her without thinking anything of it, like always holding her or picking her up when they’re on adventures and protecting her too all without realizing until the crew makes a comment about it to him, I think it would be super adorable. thank you!

unconscious affection, ft. monkey d. luffy

note: OMG YESSS, this will be my first time writing something for luffy so I’m excited! I hope you like ittt🥰.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the Sunny as it glided through the calm waves. The salty breeze carried the sound of laughter and the occasional clatter of plates from the kitchen. It was a peaceful day at sea, the kind that made adventures feel like dreams rather than dangers.

And yet, something entirely different was happening right under the crew’s noses—something that had been going on for weeks, if not months.

Monkey D. Luffy, captain of the Straw Hat Pirates, was smitten. Not that he realized it, of course. Luffy wasn’t the type to dwell on his emotions, much less recognize them. But to everyone else, it was painfully obvious.

Especially with the way he was holding you right now.

“Luffy, put me down!” you huffed, though there was no real anger in your voice—just exasperation.

“Nope!” Luffy grinned, his arms locked securely around your waist as he carried you across the deck like a sack of treasure. “I wanna sit up on Sunny’s head, and it’s more fun if you’re there too!”

Robin chuckled behind her book, Sanji rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette, and Zoro muttered something about “idiot captain behavior.” The rest of the crew wasn’t even fazed anymore.

This had become normal.

Luffy, whether he realized it or not, had a habit of keeping you close. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing—he would sling an arm around your shoulders, grab your hand while running through a town, or, in moments like this, just pick you up and take you wherever he wanted to go, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And the most infuriating part?

He never acted this way with anyone else.

It wasn’t just on the ship, either.

On an island you had docked at a week ago, you had been walking through a dense jungle, eyes scanning the towering trees for any signs of danger. It was an unfamiliar place, and caution was necessary.

Luffy, however, had decided that caution was boring.

He had climbed ahead, jumping from tree to tree with his usual reckless energy, leaving the rest of you to navigate the ground below. But just as you were stepping over a tangle of vines—

“Wha—Luffy!”

Without warning, he had snatched you up, one arm hooking under your legs and the other supporting your back as he launched into the treetops.

“Look at this view!” he had laughed, holding you securely as he perched on a thick branch.

You had been too stunned to respond at first, but once the initial shock wore off, you smacked his chest lightly. “You can’t just grab me whenever you feel like it!”

“Why not?” he tilted his head dumbfounded.

“Because I have legs,” you deadpanned.

Luffy had only laughed again, tightening his hold just a little before leaning forward as if sharing a secret.

“But I like carrying you.”

Your heart had skipped a beat at that, but before you could even process what he had just said, he was already stretching an arm to swing to another branch, completely unaware of how flustered he had just made you.

Then there were the fights.

Luffy was always protective of his crew—fiercely so. But when it came to you?

It was different.

He never let you fight alone. Not if he could help it.

On a recent island, you had been fending off a group of enemy pirates, your weapon clashing against theirs. You were holding your own just fine—until a particularly nasty opponent lunged at you from behind.

Before you even realized the danger, a rubbery arm shot past you, stretching at lightning speed before slamming into your attacker’s gut.

Luffy landed beside you in an instant, standing between you and the remaining enemies. His usual carefree grin was gone, replaced by something sharper, more dangerous.

“Hey,” he had said, voice dark with warning. “Don’t touch her.”

The fight had ended quickly after that.

It took the crew making an outright comment for Luffy to even begin noticing his own behavior.

One evening, you were all gathered around the dining table, enjoying one of Sanji’s extravagant meals. Luffy, as usual, was sitting next to you. And, as usual, he had an arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you close as he talked with his mouth full.

At this point, no one even blinked at it.

Until Nami, eyes glinting with mischief, casually said, “Y’know, Luffy, you really can’t keep your hands off her, huh?”

Silence.

Luffy blinked, swallowing a mouthful of meat. “Huh?”

Usopp leaned forward, grinning. “She’s right, man. You’re always touching her.”

“Like, constantly,” Zoro added with a smirk.

Sanji, who had been stewing in silent jealousy for weeks, exhaled a cloud of smoke. “It’s honestly impressive how oblivious you are, dumbass.”

Luffy frowned, confused. He turned to look at you, as if seeing you for the first time. You were staring at the table, face burning as you tried to focus on your food.

“Wait,” he said slowly, eyes widening. “Do I really…?”

Robin smiled knowingly. “Oh yes. It’s quite adorable, actually.”

The realization hit Luffy like a punch to the gut. His eyes flicked between you and his own arm still draped over your shoulders. His grip on you had always been instinctual, like second nature. He had never thought about it before.

But now that it was pointed out…

He felt warm. Too warm.

His fingers twitched against your skin, and for the first time in his entire life, Monkey D. Luffy blushed.

“oh.”

The crew burst into laughter.

And you? You just covered your face with your hands, knowing that things were never going to be the same after this.

#✎ᝰ — sakuraszn !#I LOVE HIM SO MUCH #you just might got me wanting to write for him more now #one piece #monkey d. luffy #one piece x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #luffy x female reader #x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #cat burglar nami #nami #roronoa zoro #nico robin

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angelicangelz · 3 days ago

Text

simon ghost riley ewb.

you read that right. enemies with benefits. enemies in public, lovers in private. constant arguing and bickering when everyone else is around, until you’re both so pent up and frustrated you have no choice but to take it out on each other.

it’s the best torture you’ve ever experienced. he makes you cum at least three times on his fingers and tongue before even considering giving in to your pleas. and don’t you dare expect him to be nice to you. once he’s in, he might not come out for a good three to four rounds. this man is a beast, he’s got stamina for days. if you can’t hold yourself up, he’ll just do it for you. his little birdie!

ughhh and he’s so teasing you whenever you two are out in public. it’s subtle. you don’t want anyone to know you’re fucking the guy you claim to hate the most. he loves seeing you get riled up so he can’t help himself. and it starts out small.

eye fucking. his hand brushing against you. maybe whispering some naughty things into your ear when no one is listening. or just plain grabbing your ass when no one is looking. just because he knows you can’t do anything.

he prefers it when you two are alone though. i mean that’s when the party really gets started right?? when he finally gets to sink his cock into you and ram into you like there’s no time. because usually there isn’t. these hookups take place in the storage closet of bathroom most of the time.

he’s got a pretty picture of you sucking his cock to jerk off to when you’re away. 4k resolution. it’s hidden in his private album, of course. not just for secrecy, but because he believes no one else is allowed to see you like that.

but aren’t you two enemies?? ghost shouldn’t care about what you do with other guys. he doesn’t. not necessarily. maybe a little. not too much. just sometimes. only the times where there’s an actual other guy near you.

it’s a good thing he knows how to get rid of a dead body.

—

this is so bad but it came to me and i wrote it so please enjoy what i created.

advice: don’t go on holiday the week before your exams it’s killing ok bye love u all!!!

#ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost fluff #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x reader #cod smut #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader

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strwberri-milk · 3 days ago

Note

Hi!! If you haven't done it yet, please do one where mc wakes up to the boys jerking off beside them in the middle of the night because they couldn't wait or they didn't wanna touch her without explicit permission (Xavier can be an exception. Man's freaky like that). Thanks 😘

Also please make them extra needy. Or whatever you want. Go wild 🫶🫰

hihi!! this is a very kind reminder to anybody wanting to send requsts to please limit them to three characters if you want them to be more detailed <3 this is a request where i could see there being more details but honestly i get bogged down and it takes me like, five to eight hours to do it bc my focus is nawt great [sob] also smut under the cut!

Zayne always comes home late and a lot of the time he misses you. He tries to be quiet and honestly, if he's going to jerk off to you he'll do it in the washroom to avoid waking you up. He'd be laying in bed next to you after a long day, trying to go to sleep.

The plush of your body and soft breaths are taunting him far past his restraint. He doesn't want to wake you though so he simply buries his face into your neck, taking a deep breath before getting up. He keeps the lights off and stifles his groans into his hand as his fist works over his cock furiously, cheeks flush as he imagines the sight of you on the bed with your legs spread.

You were woken up by a press of a body behind you disappearing, then your bladder decided to make itself known. You open the door, about to use the toiler when you hear Zayne's ragged breathing. He looks at you, eyes wide in the dark as you realise he's just cum all over his hand. Not one to waste an opportunity like this, you drop to your knees, licking his essence off slightly trembling fingers. You relish the sound of his soft groan as you slide him down your throat, helping alleviate his ache for you.

Xavier is always a little insatiable and you never mind indulging him. He knows he has permission to do whatever he wants with you and he likes to indulge every so often - tonight being one of those times. He pulls your body against his, grinding his hard cock against your ass as he peppers the back of your neck in kisses.

He doesn't know restraint when he's like this, groaning softly as he uses your body for his own pleasure. His eyes are closed as he drags your hips to rub against his hard length. You'd wake up to the sound of his heavy breathing against your ear as he groans your name. The second he feels you've begun to wake up a hand crawls up your chest, grabbing and groping at your chest as he continues to hump against you.

The warmth of his body paired with the faint glow of his fingers on your skin ends up soothing you to some sort of restful sleep. You can feel him pressed insistently between your thighs but you're also too groggy to really do anything about it. You just give him the freedom to do as he pleases, Xavier cumming in his boxers before he flips you over to slide inside of you, nowhere near sated enough with just that.

Rafayel's libido fluctuates and his irregular schedule doesn't do much to help it. He loves watching you sleep but watching you sleep when he's horny is a whole new struggle. He's got an uncanny ability to undress you with his eyes and he does it constantly, especially when you've got your lips slightly parted and you make the sweetest little sounds in your sleep. His mind can't help but pervert it a little, pressing the sweetest kiss to your cheek as his hand travels down south.

He adores you so it's no surprise he can easily cum just by looking at you and thinking about you, biting his lip as he does his best not to disturb your rest. His breathing catches as he spills all over his hand, bracing himself against the sheets as you barely stir, simply just turning over and getting more comfortable.

He gets himself cleaned up and comes back, pulling you against his chest and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, hoping that when you wake up you'll be rested enough for him to indulge in your body. For now he'll just cuddle you up, keeping you warm as he falls asleep with you.

Sylus prefers to do things with you when you're awake because he loves watching your reactions. However, that's not going to stop him from taking care of himself near you, but he likes to draw out the experience. He doesn't really focus on cumming - most just on how it feels to wrap his fist around his hard shaft. He watches every movement you make, enjoying the arousal in the pit of his stomach as he reaches out to hold your hand.

He'll pepper your face in soft kisses as he touches himself, imagining the faces you make when he ruins you and the sounds that slip past your lips whenever you grow desperate for him. His imagination is more than enough - or he thought it was.

Your eyes flutter open, hearing his soft moan of pleasure that immediately sends a jolt of need to your core. His need for you is apparent when he starts to kiss you desperately, hands roaming all over your body as he tells you to just lay back and relax. He's going to take care of you.

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hy6erion · 2 days ago

Note

Hey just so you know I'm in love with your writing and it's just so JSHDUEHEUFHEMWAH.

I. Don't know if this is allowed. But I wanted to know if you could write like, poly! Jayvik and reader where reader has just been like. Fucked stupid. No thoughts head empty. And aftercare if you please 🥹

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐕𝐢𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⇢ 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢), 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 (𝐝𝐮𝐡), 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞/𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 + 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞

The room is sweltering. The sheets are damp, clinging to your overheated skin, the air thick with the scent of sex—heady, intoxicating. Every breath you take is labored, broken with little whimpers and gasps as you’re sandwiched between them, caught in the push and pull of pleasure that never seems to end.

Jayce is on top of you, his massive frame caging you in, pressing you deep into the mattress as he fucks into you with slow, deep thrusts. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open, keeping you spread wide for him. Every roll of his hips has his cock grinding against that sweet spot inside you, sending sharp jolts of pleasure up your spine.

“So fucking good” he groans, voice thick with arousal. His dark eyes are locked onto where your bodies meet, watching the way his cock disappears inside you over and over again, the way you suck him in so greedily. “Taking me so well, baby. Fuck—like you were made for this.”

Behind you, Viktor’s presence is just as overwhelming. He’s pressed flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear, his hands never still. His fingers trace over your sweat-slick skin, mapping every shiver, every twitch. One hand is curled around your throat, just firm enough to keep you grounded, while the other toys with your aching clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that have you shaking in Jayce’s hold.

“You are so beautiful like this” Viktor murmurs, his voice smooth, velvety, dripping with indulgence. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, dragging his teeth over your skin before licking over the mark, soothing it. “So helpless.”

Jayce groans at his words, his grip tightening on your thighs as his pace stutters for a moment. His eyes flick up, meeting Viktor’s over your trembling body. There’s something heated in the way they look at each other, something that sends another wave of arousal straight to your core.

Jayce swallows thickly, his voice rough. “You like watching, don’t you?”

Viktor hums, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips. “I do.” His fingers press down on your clit, and you wail, your body jolting from the sudden jolt of pleasure. Viktor’s smirk widens. “I love seeing her like this”

Jayce groans, his hips snapping forward harder, his strokes turning rough, desperate. You can feel how much he loves hearing that, how much Viktor’s words fuel him. He’s always been so easy to wind up, so weak when it comes to praise—especially from Viktor.

He leans forward, his hand sliding up Jayce’s chest, fingers curling around the back of his neck, tugging him down—kissing him.

It’s messy, desperate. Their lips part immediately, tongues tangling, breaths heavy, muffled groans swallowed between them. Jayce shudders into it, his cock twitching inside you as he kisses Viktor back just as hungrily, tilting his head, deepening it.

It’s so obscene—so hot—the sight of them kissing above you, Jayce’s hips still rolling into yours, Viktor’s fingers still circling your clit.

It’s too much.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from your lungs. You convulse between them, your body locking up, back arching as you cry out, a broken sob of pleasure. Your cunt clenches down on Jayce’s cock, squeezing him so tight he chokes on a moan, breaking away from Viktor’s lips.

“Fuck—fuck—” His thrusts turn frantic, erratic, his entire body trembling as he slams in one last time, burying himself as deep as he can go. His cock throbs, hot spurts of cum filling you up, spilling out around his thick length, dripping onto the sheets below.

You’re still shaking, your body twitching with aftershocks, your mind completely blank, floating in a haze of pleasure.

But they’re not done with you yet.

Viktor’s hands are already moving, turning you onto your side, shifting you into his arms now. His fingers trace over the mess between your thighs, collecting the slick mixture of your arousal and Jayce’s cum, spreading it around, pushing some of it back inside you.

“So messy” he murmurs, almost affectionate as he presses a kiss to your temple. “But you like that, don’t you?”

Jayce, still panting, still catching his breath, groans at the sight. His hand finds Viktor’s waist, pulling him in, kissing him again—slower, this time. Deeper. His other hand smooths over your trembling thigh, spreading you open for Viktor.

Viktor chuckles against Jayce’s lips before pulling back, his cock nudging against your entrance, pushing in—slow, deliberate, making you feel every inch as he buries himself inside you.

And just like that, it starts all over again.

⸻

The room is quiet now, save for the slow, steady breathing of the three of you, tangled together in the sheets. The heat of the moment has long since passed, replaced by something softer, warmer—a lingering, unspoken love that settles deep in your bones.

You’re exhausted, completely spent, your body heavy and deliciously sore in the best way. Every inch of you still tingles with the remnants of pleasure, oversensitive and raw, but it’s comforting, grounding. It keeps you tethered to them—to the warmth of Jayce’s broad chest pressed against your side, Viktor’s lean frame curled up against your back, both of them holding you close like they never want to let go.

Jayce is the first to break the silence. He shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at you, his dark eyes still hazy with exhaustion, but so incredibly soft. His hand comes up, brushing sweat-damp hair away from your face before he leans in, pressing the gentlest kiss to your forehead.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice deep, thick with lingering satisfaction. “You okay?”

You hum softly in response, not quite able to form words yet, and Jayce smiles. God, he looks so lovesick, so unbelievably smitten, like he could spend forever just looking at you.

Viktor chuckles behind you, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns along your hip. “She is completely gone,” he muses, amused but so fond. His lips brush against the nape of your neck, lingering there, warm and feather-light. “I cannot say I blame them.”

Jayce grins. “Yeah, we kinda did a number on her?”

His voice is teasing, but there’s something deeply affectionate beneath it. His hand drifts down, smoothing over your side, tracing the curves of your body before he leans in again—another kiss, this time to your cheek, soft and lingering.

Viktor hums, and his own lips find your shoulder, pressing a kiss there, slow and deliberate. Then another one, just a little lower. Then another. It’s like neither of them can stop kissing you, can’t get enough of you even now, after everything.

And it’s so much, all this warmth, this quiet, undemanding love pouring over you in soft caresses and lingering kisses. It makes something in your chest ache, something tender and raw and so full.

Jayce watches Viktor for a moment, his gaze flickering between him and you. Then, with a sleepy grin, he leans over you, capturing Viktor’s lips in a kiss of his own. It’s slow, unhurried—sweet, in a way that makes your heart flutter. Viktor sighs into it, his hand reaching up to cup Jayce’s jaw, pulling him in just a little closer.

The kiss lingers, slow and deep, before Jayce pulls back with a breathless chuckle. “God, I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking over Viktor’s cheek. Then he turns back to you, his expression utterly soft. “Both of you.”

Viktor hums again, his fingers still tracing over your skin, mapping the shape of you like he never wants to forget it. “We know,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. Then, quieter, warmer: “We love you too.”

Jayce beams. He kisses you again, slow and deep, tilting your chin up so he can kiss you properly. His lips are warm, a little chapped but so familiar, so full of affection that it makes your breath hitch.

And then Viktor shifts, pressing up against you from behind, his lips finding your shoulder, then the curve of your neck, then the space just beneath your ear. You shiver at the sensation, utterly surrounded by them, drowning in their warmth, their affection.

Jayce grins against your lips. “Think we can get them to pass out just from kissing alone?”

Viktor laughs, his breath warm against your skin. “It is a worthy experiment.”

And just like that, it continues—the slow, indulgent exchange of kisses, the soft, whispered affections, the gentle hands smoothing over your skin.

By the time exhaustion finally pulls you under, you’re utterly cocooned in them—Viktor’s arms wrapped around your waist, Jayce’s hand cradling the back of your head, their warmth lulling you into the deepest, most peaceful sleep imaginable.

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bernardsbendystraws · 3 days ago

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲 — 𝐂.𝐒.

SUMMARY ʚɞ Chris thinks you’re just a dream.

CW ʚɞ Fluff, kissing, touching, established relationship.

PAIRING ʚɞ Bubble .ᐟ Reader x Chris Sturniolo

A/N: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. New layout! Please read the copyright notice! This is just a lil fic for my babies bc I really wanted to use the top right pic since I had to take I down the first time. Fuck off tryna be weird. I’m having fun and vibing and I refuse to let anyone ruin that!

With love and big tits, Rose ➜ au masterlist

“Pretty,” you coo, petting Chris’ face while cupping his jaw.

He’s staring up at you with contentment, with pure and utter joy. His flushed cheeks are warm, his hands clamping around your waist, keeping you perched in his lap as the light breeze flows by.

The grass shutters with each puff of wind. Flowers and branches rustle, the sound adorned by light chirping from a blue bird singing in the air.

Chris puckers his lips, closing his eyes as he waits for you to kiss him. The second your lips land on his, he can’t help but smile against you, letting a hum of joy vibrate between the sweet affection.

“Hm, thank you, Bubs. Fuckin’ love kissin’ you,” he says, his eyes slowly blinking at you as you rummage your hands through his hair.

You nod firmly, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, laughing as it scrunches. “Mhm, ‘course. I love it too,” you remark, your voice flowing like a soft, gentle melody.

Chris stares into your eyes, almost as if he’s searching for something. The slight crinkle of your brow makes him smile sheepishly. “Sorry, just… can’t believe you’re mine.”

Your eyes soften as you tilt your head to the side, analyzing his doe eyes as he beams with love radiating out of every pore of his body. “You’re so sweet,” you sigh, bringing your hands to the tops of his shoulders as you try to get up.

Chris is not pleased. His hands react before his mind, tugging you even closer than before, dragging you plush against his front.

You huff, the air coming out in short breaths as you feel his heart thump against your own chest.

“Don’t leave. Just… just wanna hold you, Bubs—wanna hold my girl.”

You bite on your inner cheek, nodding as you relax in his grip, the feeling of his arms collapsing around you making your heart beat slower, your breaths calming as you let yourself feel safe in his hold.

He just wants to hold you.

He just wants to make sure that this dream is real.

A/N: I literally love them so much. You can’t tell me this isn’t how Chris would be with his girl IRL. He’s so cutie 🩵🫧

Comment if you wanna be on the taglist. Lmk any thots, questions, comments, or concerns. Hope you’re having the best day today and I really appreciate any and all support and love.

Interacting has always been something super important to me, hence why I try to reply to every single comment and such. Having my inbox off is helping me feel a lot better so I really appreciate all the patience and kindness.

I’ve turned non-anon asks back on, but I still might not be yapping until I feel 100% ready to.

This is a really long end note, but I’m really grateful for everyone that specifically comes onto my account, wanting to talk about my work or just making me smile in general.

I love you 💕

With love and big tits, Rose 🌹

#bbs.bubble.fics #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo au #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo headcannons #sturniolo headcanon #sturniolo imagine

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jarofstyles · 3 days ago

Text

Migraine

Hello!! I've got part one of a two parter here for you. It was originally a one shot but it’s close to 18k... so I decided to split it up. Next part will be posted in a week or so!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 260+ exclusive writings and series

DISCLAIMER- People with migraines get different auras, have different triggers, etc. I tried to represent them as I am familiar with, it may not be the same for you or a loved one who deals with them!

WC- 6.1k

Warnings- descriptions of migraines, asshole H, angst, pining, mention of nausea and pain, mention of bullying

The office was filled with the usual hum of keyboards and muffled phone conversations, but unfortunately, Y/N could always pick out Harry's voice above the rest. He was always laughing too loudly, always arguing with the printer, always finding some reason to be annoying. She sat at her desk, trying to focus on her task list, but Harry's constant chatter was grating on her nerves. "Y/N!" Harry called out, wandering over to her desk.

“What?” She sighed, the persistent rising of the headache throbbing at her temples as she didn’t bother looking in his direction. Feeding into his antics never ended up going the way she wanted. And yet, it always happened.

"I need you to print out this report for me." Harry said as he strolled into her office like he owned the place, dropping a stack of papers onto her desk. Her body jerked as the paper was plopped haphazardly, as usual, almost knocking over the far too expensive iced latte she’d picked up on her way in. Reflexes caught it in time, but a few condensation droplets wet the papers she had currently been working on. Ever since he’d been assigned as the lead on the project he’d been rubbing it in her face, acting like her boss even though he wasn’t… and she was tired.

“I’ll also need you to make some copies of these contracts. Oh, and while you're at it, could you grab me a coffee from the break room?" He leaned against her desk, his eyes tinged with amusement as he waited for her to respond. Like this was some sort of game.

“I’m not your assistant Harry. I’m working on my own stuff. Find someone else to do it- or better yet, do it yourself.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise at her sudden defiance. He really hadn't expected that level of backbone from her. Usually it took a little more to make her get snappy, but she was playing into it today even if she thought she wasn’t. A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, Y/N, aren't you just adorable when you're mad at me." He tapped the stack of papers with his fingers. "And here I thought we were a team. Is it too much to ask for a little teamwork?"

She could see her vision waver- and unfortunately, it wasn’t just from the annoyance his presence tended to naturally bring. It wasn’t uncommon for ocular migraines to get her, but her headache had been bad all day. The warning signs had been there when she woke up, even more so an hour ago when the metallic taste had entered her mouth, but she’s decided to go to work regardless. Dedicated to the job, Y/N didn’t take time off unless absolutely necessary.

Harry really didn’t understand how brutal migraines could be and she knew that, but he chose the worst times he possibly could to mess with her. Like he had some sort of monitor on her to tell him exactly when the worst time was to bother her. “Yes. I need to be left alone, please.” She took a sip of her watered down coffee to get caffeine in her, but it was taking a bit to work on her.

He knew she got headaches sometimes, but he also knew she hated it when anyone really brought it up because she didn't want anyone to 'baby' her. So… he decided to push a little more. Watching Y/N's hand as she brought her light colored coffee with condensation dripping down the side to her lips again, he got momentarily distracted by her lips wrapped around the straw before snapping out of it. Simply staring wasn’t going to get her to respond. Leaning in closer, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. "You know, there are studies that show that loud noises can actually trigger headaches t’get worse." He tapped his fingers on her desk, the sound deliberately loud and irritating. "And some people say that stress makes it even worse too."

“Yeah, it can. So can you go away?” She snapped, glowering down at the desk in front of her. What she really meant was Fuck Off, but she didn’t really use that langauge too often. Usually, she didn’t want to give in to whatever antics the stupidly stubborn man tried to bring to get her to break- but the throb at her temples made it hard to have any tolerance at all. Harry liked to push buttons but especially liked to get under her skin. “Go get your own coffee and give me some silence.”

Harry chuckled, the sound grating on Y/N's already frayed nerves. "Aww, come on Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with fake sympathy- like this was a game. "I just want to make sure Y’know that, so you can get your job done. Maybe I should just sit here with you until your headache goes away. Make sure you’re not slacking off, hm?" He reached out and turned her computer monitor up to maximum brightness, the sudden blast of light making her wince. Harry was messing with her. He had no actual clue on how bad headaches could mess with her. It was fun to poke and prod to see her snarl back. “There. That should wake you up, since the coffee isn’t doing its job.”

Y/N had barely slept, her head was throbbing, her eyes blurry and her nerves completely fried. At some times he was a mere nuisance, like a fly buzzing in her ear that she could ignore if she tried to tune him out. Harry was a bit of a clown around the office, liked to make people laugh, but he especially liked to mess with Y/N. Perhaps it was because she was quiet and not as outwardly receptive, but she really didn’t like how obnoxious he could get. 9 times out of 10, she could deal with it.

Apparently, he caught her on the one day she couldn’t.

Ignoring him, she shut her monitor off and buried her face in her hands, wincing as the pain radiated through her temples to the back of her eye. If you’d never experienced it you’d never know how blinding the pain could be. Literally and metaphorically.

Apparently, he was missing the memo, thinking she was playing along. He reached out and grabbed a nearby stapler, tapping it loudly on her desk. "Y/N?" He called out, his voice deliberately cheerful. "C’mon, enough with the headache excuse. Why are you ignoring me again?" He tapped the stapler faster, the noise grating and irritating. "I’ll stop once you tell me why you’ve got t’keep being such a killjoy. We’ve got work to do and ignoring me isn’t good for team building.”

Tears of frustration welled in her eyes against her will. The last thing she wanted was to have him see her cry. It was embarrassing, and she didn’t want him to know he had any power over her at all- even if this probably wasn’t the desired outcome- but it was hard not to react. She wanted her room, she wanted her blackout curtains and complete silence except the low sound of her fan. The last place she wanted to be was stuck in a room with someone who loved to make her insane, fucking with her and making her headache worse. Curling into herself, she let out a shuddering breath- and the tapping stopped.

He wasn’t quite sure what had happened as he let the silence take over, hearing her shaky breath. Harry hadn’t realized it before how her usual put-together appearance was completely disheveled- but he sure as fuck did now.

Y/N wasn’t the type to come in with a hair out of place. Sometimes it pissed him off. Smart, put together, pretty Y/N not even looking his way. Thought she was too good to be his friend or something… but through his teasing he wanted to get her attention. Wanted her to talk to him since she didn’t on her own. The last thing he wanted was to actually piss her off… Let alone hurt her. "Shit..." he muttered, his voice losing its usual mocking tone. "Y/N?" Reaching out hesitantly, his hand hovering near her shoulder. It probably wasn’t appropriate to touch her but he felt a slight lick of panic run through his stomach. "Hey, are you alright? I was just messing around…" He trailed off, genuinely concerned. Harry could be annoying, he’d been told that plenty of times before- but purposefully inflicting pain wasn’t something he’d meant to do. That wasn’t something he’d ever want to truly do to someone.

The girl sniffled, shaking her head. “No.” The break in her voice was enough to display that. “My head hurts and you couldn’t just leave me alone. I was trying to prevent this and now I feel like I’m going to throw up.” She wanted to be angrier, sound meaner, but her voice was shaky. Pathetic. She hated every bit of this. “Please, can you get out of my office? Let me turn my lights off.”

Harry's hand froze in mid-air as he’d gone to touch her again, her words hitting him like a physical blow. He hadn't meant to make her feel this way, to push her to the point of tears and nausea. His face fell, genuine remorse etched into his features even if she couldn’t see it. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm sorry." He whispered, his usual bravado gone. "M’so sorry. I didn't realize... I thought you were just being stubborn, like always." He pulled his hand back, standing up slowly. "I'll go."

On his way out, he was especially gentle turning the lights out and closing the door. Guilt swam in his gut as he ran his hand over his face, going towards the break room. All he’d wanted was to play around. See if she’d shoot back and if their little dynamic of her being slightly irritated at his presence had changed to something more fond. He’d been trying to gain some sort of joke with her, make her spat back and forth with him until it would make her laugh. In the weird way he tried to show it, he had wanted to be her friend.

No chance at that now. He’d properly blown it.

Harry poured himself a cup of coffee, staring at the steaming liquid without really seeing it. The sound of Y/N's shaky breath echoed in his mind, making him feel like absolute shit. Running his hands through his hair, the frustration with himself built at the lack of cues he had really taken from her. Of course he’d known he could be oblivious, but he hadn’t anticipated a joke going wrong. The joke was on him - he’d broken her. For once, he wasn’t in control of the situation, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Sitting at the break room table, his coffee say untouched as he stared off into space. He kept thinking about Y/N's tears, the way her usually perfect hair was messy and stuck to her face. He kept replaying the way she'd asked him to leave her alone, her voice shaking with frustration and pain. He'd never seen her like that before, and it was hitting him hard. He felt like an asshole for pushing her so far, for not realizing how bad her headaches really were.

“Hey. Do you know if Y/N having a headache? Her door is closed and the lights are off but I thought that she came in today.” Niall asked as he popped into the break room, taking the seat across from Harry.

Harry looked up, wincing slightly as he was broken from thought. "Yeah, she's got a bad one. Think I accidentally made it worse." The admission was spoken quietly, hand rubbing his face. "I was trying to be a dick and mess with her, but... I didn't realize how bad it was until she started crying." He sighed heavily. It was his own fault, but he couldn’t stop feeling like a complete idiot. "I just left her alone, but now I feel like shit for making her feel that way." He glanced up at Niall. "You know how she is with her headaches, right?" Much to his annoyance, Niall and Y/N had seemingly become friends much easier than he had been able to.

“Harry…” His disapproval was already on his face. “It’s not just a headache. Migraines can get really bad. My sister gets them. Been to the hospital multiple times just for relief because regular paracetamol doesn’t cut it. If Y/N ever misses a day, it’s because of them- and you know she hates missing anything. It’s like… a throbbing in your brain, sharp pain. Like the worst hangover you’ve had times a thousand. That’s how she said they were to me. They’re different types but…” Niall sighed. “You’re not a cruel guy, mate. Why were you messing with her if you knew she didn’t feel well?”

Harry's face fell in succession as he listened to Niall, realizing just how little he actually knew about migraines. He'd always just thought of them as a minor annoyance, something she could brush off- pop a pain relief and keep it going. But hearing Niall describe them as a "throbbing in her brain" made him feel sick to his stomach. He'd been so caught up in his own stupid game that he hadn't considered any of that. All he had wanted as her reaction. He’d gotten what he’d wished for, but it didn’t end up being the result he wanted.

"I just... I don't know, Niall. I thought I was being funny, you know? Poking at her a little to get a reaction. But then she started crying and I... fuck, I feel like the biggest dickhead." Harry ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "I didn't mean to hurt her- I’d never want that and you know that. I just wanted her to talk to me, to acknowledge me since she never does on her own. But now I've probably just pushed her away even more."

“She’s not actively not trying to talk to you. I mean, after a bit yeah she probably is, cause you keep fucking with her, but she’s just a quiet person. Enjoys being behind the scenes. You’re always the center of attention. You probably intimidate her a bit.” Niall mused, taking a bit of his candy he’d pulled from his bag. “She’s not ridiculous. If you apologize and really feel bad, she’ll probably see it. But you keep acting like a prick trying to get the attention of the girls at school in front of her. You’ve got to cool it.”

"You think so?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing as he considered Niall's words. He'd never really thought about the fact that he might be intimidating to Y/N. He always just assumed she was ignoring him on purpose, like she was too good to talk to him- and besides, he didn’t considering himself intimidating in the slightest! Sure he was tall, a little loud and had some interesting tattoo choices but he was nice…. Wasn’t he?

"So, you're saying I should apologize genuinely and lay off the jokes for a bit? That’s it?" He took Niall's advice seriously, seeing as Niall seemed to understand Y/N better than he did. It didn’t seem like enough to properly apologize but he would take his advice.

“Yeah. I’ve told you for a bit to lay off of her but you kept going at it.” He said with his mouth full, sending him a look.

Harry sighed, rubbing his face again. "I know, I know. I just... I was just joking with her, Niall. She's always been so quiet and reserved around me, it's like she's not even there half the time. And then when she does speak up, it's always to tell me to shut up or leave her alone. It's like she's just tolerating my presence or something." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. "I guess I just want her to notice me, you know?"

“Well, can’t say ya went about it the right way.” Niall snorted, shaking his head at the dumbass attempt. “But you can start when she’s done hurting. Make her a gift or get her a coffee, sit with her and genuinely apologize. She’ll hear you out, even if you probably don’t deserve it.”

——-

Hopefully, Niall hadn’t been full of shit.

Harry watched nervously from his office across the hall as Y/N arrived, noticing the gift basket on her desk. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn't just throw it away without looking at the card. Annoyingly enough, her door had closed behind her. Letting out a breath of his own nerves, he leaned back in his seat- there had been the hope of at least seeing if she smiled.

Putting together a gift basket was much more difficult than he had anticipated, especially for Y/N. It was then that he realized he didn’t know much about her, and especially about migraines as a whole. He'd spent a long time picking out things he thought she might like - dark chocolates, a fancy journal, some cozy tea blends, migraine medication, some essential oils google said could help with headaches. And of course, a heartfelt apology note tucked away inside, scribbled in his messy handwriting.

Y/N, I'm an idiot. I realize that now more than ever. I'm sorry for pushing your buttons and making your headaches worse. I'm sorry for being a jerk and not realizing how much pain you were actually in. That isn’t an excuse, though. I know it isn’t going to make it better and I promise this isn’t an attempt to buy your forgiveness, but I made you a little… basket thing? There are some things that might help - chocolate for the sugar crashes, tea for relaxation, oil for your temples, and medicine to keep at your desk. I googled it, it’s the best rated one. Please forgive me for being a complete dickhead.

- Harry

As the day wore on, Harry found himself constantly glancing over at Y/N's office, hoping to catch her attention when her door propped back open but he wasn’t having much luck. She seemed to be deliberately avoiding him, her head down and focused on her work. By the time 5 o'clock rolled around, he was starting to get frustrated- he had been buried in his own work as well, not able to get up and ask her much at all. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to her about the gift basket or his apology- or hear if she was telling him to fuck off The not knowing was killing him.

Harry slumped in his chair, a deep frown etched onto his face as he watched Y/N gather her things to leave. His shoulders were tense, his stomach twisted in knots. Rejection clung to him like a damp sweater, uncomfortable and constricting. He felt foolish for thinking a gift basket would somehow magically fix everything, erase all the hurt he'd caused with his foolish teasing. It wasn’t like he thought she would just instantly accept his apology or something- but it had been a hope. His pride was stung, but more than that, he felt genuine regret and a tugging worry that he'd damaged their working relationship beyond repair- let alone any chance of actually being friends.

It had been obvious to him now more than ever, his flirting style needed work. His mother would absolutely smack him upside the head if she ever caught wind of any of what he’d done. This wasn’t the playground. The excuse of men being mean to women because they liked them was bullshit. In his defense, he wasn’t trying to be cruel on purpose. He was trying to tease her, get her to think he was funny, and start banter with her. Get her to react to him because she stayed to herself. She didn’t react to any of his jokes he’d told in the break room, scurrying off, barely interacting with him unless it was 100% necessary- it stung his ego but also motivated him to try and get her to laugh. To react in any way he could because he wanted her attention.

Y/N was beautiful. He’d noticed that the first day she started. They’d been introduced by their boss, Harry nearly stumbling over his words as he greeted her. She’d let a little shy smile on her face as she waved at him and he’d felt his heart flip flop in his chest. She wasn’t his usual type, but she’d taken up a lot of his mind since that day. It had led to frustration, albeit immature, that she wasn’t paying him any mind unless he was bugging her and it became their norm. It wasn’t what he had wanted, no, but it was the only way he’d seen results. So he kept at it until he’d nearly fatally fucked up.

But finally, knocking him out of his train of thought, he heard her door close and the rattle of keys as she emerged from her office. Much more put together than yesterday, the only sign of anything being off being slight darkness under her eyes, she looked perfectly pieced in every place.

As Y/N headed for the elevator, Harry finally gathered his courage and jogged to catch up with her. "Y/N, wait!" he called out, slightly out of breath. She paused, turning to face him with a guarded expression as he pulled to a stop outside the elevator. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, unsure of where to begin, he just let his mouth take over. "I just... I wanted to make sure you got the gift basket. And the note." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. "Did you... did you read it?"

“Not yet.” She said quietly, shifting slightly on her feet. “I didn’t get a chance. I left early yesterday and couldn’t get all my work done yesterday so I had to immediately jump into things.”

"Oh, I see..." Harry nodded, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest at her admission. At least she hadn't dismissed his apology outright. He took a deep breath, deciding to lay it all out there. "Well, I put my heart into that note. I meant every word, Y/N. M’truly sorry for being such an inconsiderate dick. Your migraines aren't a joke, and I should have respected that. I truly didn’t know." He looked down at his shoes before meeting her gaze again, his expression earnest.

“Thank you for the apology. I’ll read it when I’m home.” It had been a curiosity for her all day. She had a feeling it was from him considering she saw his sloppy handwriting in the envelope resting on top, but she truly hadn’t had the time to read anything. This was more than she had expected from him, that was for sure. He apologized in person and in the note she had yet to read and looked like he had been reprimanded but who knew? As genuine as his nerves seemed to be, it could have been another part of a joke. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry managed a small smile, relief washing over him knowing she hadn't thrown his apology away unread. "Okay. Yeah- yeah, no problem. Take care of yourself tonight." he said, his voice warm with sincerity that had been missing in most of their prior interactions. He’d always gone with the joking route, but it was apparent now that he had read her completely wrong. As Y/N stepped into the elevator, Harry watched the doors close, a plan forming in his mind. He would continue to show her through his actions that he was serious about changing. Maybe tomorrow he'd bring her favorite coffee as another peace offering. Baby steps, he thought. It was a start.

—

When Y/N got home she could properly inspect the small basket, but more importantly- the note.

Y/N blinked in surprise as she unfolded the note, her eyebrows raising slightly at the raw sincerity of Harry's words- and his slightly sloppy handwriting. A small, incredulous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she read about the idiocy he confessed to. She couldn't help but chuckle softly at the mention of chocolate for sugar crashes - a detail that showed he had actually looked some things up. The mention of the oils and medicine touched her unexpectedly, realizing the actual thought he'd put into items that could genuinely help her.

The more Y/N read the note, the more she wondered why Harry would go through all this trouble. He'd never shown this level of consideration before, always preferring to tease and joke around instead. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this apology than met the eye. As she set the note down, she couldn't help but wonder what Harry's endgame was.

As Y/N looked through the gift basket, she found herself softening towards Harry. The chocolates, the tea, the journal - it was all thoughtful and considerate. He'd clearly put a lot of effort into selecting things that might actually help her. And the note... the note was something else entirely. It was heartfelt and apologetic, with a hint of humor that made her smile. For the first time, she started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Harry was genuinely sorry for his actions. If so, that would be a first.

It was quickly decided that she needed to talk to Harry in person to get a better read on his intentions. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his apology than met the eye, and she wanted to know what was behind his sudden change of heart. To go from constant irritation to this? Maybe he really had learned his lesson and was genuinely trying to be a better colleague. Or maybe there was something else at play. Either way, she needed to have a conversation with him to clear the air. She just hoped he would listen.

———

The next morning, Y/N arrived at the office looking composed and put together, despite the lingering fatigue from her slightly sleepless night. The whole scenario had been hard to read and she knew there wouldn’t be much understanding until she actually got to speak to him. Walking in with her head held high, her eyes scanned the doors until they landed on Harry's office- thankfully with the light on and the door cracked open. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Harry looked up from his computer, his face lighting up in surprise as he saw her standing there. "Hey- hi," he said, setting his pen down. "What brings you here so early?"

“I read your note.” She said softly. “Weirdly enough, I believe you… about being sorry, and not knowing how bad my headaches got. I know I haven’t talked to you about them so I don’t expect you to fully understand it.” Rocking on her heels, she took another step into his office and closed the door behind her. “I just… I had a few questions that I don’t really understand. Why do you keep messing with me? Do you not like me or something? Did I do something?”

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he processed Y/N's questions, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently. "You read the note?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words to explain his behavior. "Look, Y/N, I haven’t been messing with you to piss you off. I was… I was trying to joke with you. You said you didn’t like people babying you over your headaches and stuff, so I didn’t think it was that serious. I was hoping you’d push back a bit and we could banter. I’d never purposely want you in actual pain." He promised. It felt a bit surreal to be talking to her like this, but she was giving him a generous opportunity to apologize. He’d been a real prick, and the least he owed her was the truth- even if it made him feel anxiety like never before. "I do like you, which might be the problem..." That lingered in the air before he continued.

"You're so quiet and always focused on your work that I thought you didn’t like me." Harry continued, his voice lowering as he admitted it. The concept felt a bit silly now saying it out loud. "I thought you were ignoring me on purpose because you were like… I don’t know. Not convinced I was cool enough. Or it was something personal about me that you disliked, and I don’t like being disliked. One of my many flaws.” He sent her a half smile before continuing. “So, I kept pushing your buttons to get a reaction out of you. But then I started realizing that you weren't ignoring me because you hated me, you were just... ignoring me. I felt frustrated because you seemed to get on with everyone else well enough, but you never laughed at my jokes or really interacted with me when I tried to make you laugh... And then I figured out you’d snap back at me or talk to me if I irritated you a bit. It’s not my finest work, and I do regret it. Believe me." He paused, his mind reeling as he tried to put his thoughts into words. Being in front of her, even if he was the one behind the desk, was anxiety inducing. “I just didn’t know what to do to get you to like me.”

Harry couldn’t exactly read her face. It was hard to tell how she felt about it, so he continued on. "I know it sounds stupid now, but I really thought if I could just make you react to me, even if it was anger, it would be a start. But then you started crying and I felt like the worst prick alive. I never wanted you to actually be in pain. I thought we were just continuing on, you’d tell me to fuck off or something. Seeing you cry and be in pain made me feel like shit." Harry's voice cracked slightly as he relived the memory, his eyes dropping to the mess he’d made in his desk. "I've never seen you that upset before, and it scared me. I realized that I've been going about this all wrong and that I need to change my approach." That was an understatement. He shouldn’t have gone at it like that to begin with.

"So, to answer your question directly - no, I don’t dislike you. In fact, I think I might like you too much, which is why I've been acting like an idiot..." He trailed off, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admitted these things out loud. Thankfully Y/N had more sense than he did, not lingering on that confession.

“I never disliked you or anything. Not until you started picking on me.” She admitted with a furrowed brow. Had he really thought that? “I’m just not a super extroverted person. I don’t talk a lot to most people. It isn’t a reflection of you. Yeah, you were obnoxious sometimes.” The statement was blunt but it needed to be. “But only because I felt like you were singling me out to fuck with me. I dealt with that in school. People picking on me because I’m quiet and they don’t know much about me. In reality it would be easier to come up and ask me about things, try and talk without making it a joke. But there was never this… preconceived hatred of you or anything” That made her feel a lot of things. People always used to assume a lot about her feelings without talking to her first. It was human nature, she knew, being uncomfortable with the unknown- but that didn’t mean she liked people assuming stuff about her. Projection at its finest. “You know being rude to the girl you think is cool isn’t going to get you anywhere, right?”

He'd never stopped to consider that his teasing might be triggering past experiences for her. Honestly, he hadn’t considered that her being bullied at all was even an option. She was beautiful and sweet, definitely one of the most intelligent people on the floor. What would they have to tease her for? The idea that he'd inadvertently hurt her by projecting his own insecurities onto her made his stomach churn. "Fuck, I never even thought of it like that. M’sorry.” He murmured, running his hand through his hair sheepishly. "I guess I just assumed everyone reacted to jokes the same way. But being rude... yeah, I get it."

Y/N sighed, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. She could see the full realization dawning, the way his face fell as he understood the harm he might have caused- and that was hard to fake. It was a small comfort, but it was something at the very least. "It's okay." She said gently. "We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you're recognizing it and apologizing sincerely. That means a lot to me." In all actuality, it’s the most sincere apology she had received in a long time. “Your gift basket was very sweet, by the way. Well researched. I appreciated it a lot.”

"I'm glad you liked it." His shoulders fell a little at her response, a hint of relief coloring his tone. Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, he felt the reassurance he had needed too. Not that he was owed any, but it was nice to get regardless. He'd spent a considerable amount of time picking out items that he thought would help her, not knowing if she'd appreciate the gesture or throw it all away- but he had had to try at the very least. Y/N deserved it. "I really did put thought into it. I know google has to be sick of me."

“You did a good job. I brought some of the stuff back here to keep in my desk in case of another headache.” It was beyond thoughtful. It hadn’t been lost on her that Harry had alluded to having a crush on her, but that wasn’t a subject she was going to broach with him today.

It was something she was going to silently obsess over in the comfort of her own office.

“We can be friends, Harry. Just remember that if I’m not over the top reactive to your jokes or anything, it isn’t because I don’t think you’re funny, or that I don’t like you. I’m just… like that. You know?” The hope was that he would get it. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings at all. “I’m only really somewhat loud around people I know exceptionally well. My behavior at work isn’t personal.”

Harry nodded, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her words. Friends. That was a start, right? That was something he could work with. He'd been so caught up in his own feelings and insecurities that he hadn't stopped to consider that maybe she just wasn't the type to be that way. He was used to women laughing at his jokes, leaning into him. It was no secret that his humor was half of what got him into people’s beds. Everyone had loved funny man- but Y/N was different. It made sense, really. She was always so calm and collected, even when he was being a dick. Even when she snapped, it took her a bit to get there and she never yelled, only used that sharp tone with him. It was something that he wouldn’t admit aroused him a little bit.

"Yeah, I get it," he said, smiling softly. "Friends.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshots #harry fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfics #Harry styles angst #harry styles one shots #Harry angst #Harry fluff

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dollbrbie · 3 days ago

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yoichi isagi ʚ ɞ getting in a fight over you

💌 ; fratboy isagi , mentions of fighting , fluff

♡ fratboy isagi masterlist

oh, you couldn’t even begin to describe the scolding you were about to give isagi after this.

here you had been, outside the current frat party you and isagi had attended, a crowd of people surrounding your boyfriend and some guy you didn’t know the name of. and to make this humbling encounter worse. fortunately, it didn’t last any longer than it had to be before isagi’s friends intervened.

“what on earth compelled you to do that, isagi?”, you ask your boyfriend with a sigh, who is currently lead against the bathroom counter as you pat a cold flannel on his swollen eye.

“cause.. he was talking ‘bout you.”

“and you think that makes it fine to pick a fight?”, you ask, your brows raising.

“too right. i don’t want some random loser ogling at my girlfriend.”, he replies.

you pause your actions, taking the cold flannel away from his eye, “isagi, please.”

“i’m sorry babe, but i don’t get why you’re mad at me for this.”

“because, what if the police got called? what if the college found out? i don’t want you getting into trouble for me, isagi.”, you explained, putting the flannel down for a moment.

“well they didn’t, so you don’t need to worry so much.”, he says, grabbing your hands with his, “but i’ll be a good boy next time.”, he utters with a playful smile.

“yeah, you better. you need to stop stressing your girlfriend out.”, you reply, a small smile making it’s way onto your face. the smile isagi wanted to see.

“i’ll try my best not to.”, isagi promises, one you know he’ll definitely have problems keeping.

he’s lucky you love him.

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sierrale8ne · 9 hours ago

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celibacy / paige bueckers x fem!reader PART OF THE $$$4U COLLECTION ‘ it’s been four months and two weeks and 36 hours and eight minutes since you been pleased ’

summary after finding out you ended your sexual arrangement with paige for work purposes, she takes it upon herself to show you how much she’s been missing you and how badly she’s been needing you. warnings paige is a hornball that can’t comprehend why you’d want to obtain from having sex, sexual content, packing, strap-on sex, strap-sucking, spitting, literal cum eating like… p is a freak. from lena i felt like bringing back some old pairings so this is p x that reporter i wrote about a minute ago ( in my main masterlist titled easy access ) this is nasty, i’m ovulating so there’s that.

Paige had been accustomed to the life that came with being a star athlete: wake up, practice, treatment, class, nap, lift, and if all of that was completed, the occasional media interview.

Today was one of those days.

Her practice jersey is damp against her body, the navy blue compression shirt underneath clinging to her arms as she answers question after question. Tournament seeding, last year, the draft next month. All of it is the same, just enough for her to know exactly what to say and when to say it.

She stands patiently, arms crossed over her chest as she waits for the next question. And then it comes.

“Paige, is there any advice you’ve given your teammates— specifically Sarah and Jana— about how to handle the tournament now that they’re in it?”

Paige freezes.

It’s your voice, she’s known it well enough to be able to point it out in a crowd full of all other reporters. A voice she’s heard so many times that it became burnt into her brain— every tone, every shift.

You dig your way through to the front, and when Paige sees you— like really sees you for the first time in months— it’s the first time all day that her demeanor shifted. She’s always loved your work attire and how you prided yourself in looking your best. But today you’ve dressed down and she still thinks you look perfect. Low rise washed denim, New Balance sneakers on your feet, and a white shirt with some writing on the left shoulder that she can’t quite make out.

“I’m sorry, can you ask that again? I zoned out for a minute.” Paige clears her throat. The other reporters laugh but you stay focused, it your first media availability with Paige. You knew better than to crack, especially now. So you repeat the question, poised as ever and honestly Paige is a little shocked. She thought if anything you’d be just as off your game as she was. But you weren’t.

She stutters, and it’s so small that you almost miss it, but she answers anyways. “Just to embrace the moment. Pressure is a privilege, and they came here to preform on the biggest stage—” Her eyes bore into your own, blue like large pools of cerulean. The same eyes that once made you give up everything, toss away your morals, and submit to her. “— and we all got total confidence in them. Hopefully that translates to them having total confidence in themselves.”

You nod, thinking about how generic her answer was and how your boss would probably have something to say back at the office. It seemed like she always did, but that’s what came with being an intern, you’ve learned.

Media availability ends, and you are very glad that Paige was the last to be interviewed because you can’t wait to get away from her fucking gaze. You cut the recording on your phone, shoving it in the back pocket of your jeans, followed by sticking your notepad and pen in your purse.

You follow suit with everyone else, turning towards the practice facility’s exit doors to head back to the office. Until your stopped, a hand to your lower back that send a rush to your core.

You’re reminded of the first time. The way you danced against her at Ted’s her hand on your back, bending you over as you twerked her jeans, the feeling of the zipper against your ass. How she took you home, made your legs shake and your toes curl, just to become even more vulnerable with you in bed hours later. You learned a lot about Paige that night.

You learned even more about yourself.

That no matter what, as long as she was around you’d never be able to resist her.

It’s exactly why you turn towards face her right now, you hands cautiously gripping your purse and the other raking through your hair.

“Look who finally came to see me.” Paige’s nails rake along your skin, dangerously drawing you closer and closer to her.

You feel your knees getting weak already. She smells surprisingly good considering she just got out of practice, she looks even better. But you can’t. “Stop.” You groan, reaching back to brush her hand off.

“I’m just checkin’ on you, you good? It’s been a while.” Paige says, her voice sultry and a bit cheeky. She’s priding herself on the fact that she still has you like this.

“Paige, we’re not doing this here. I’m at work.” It reminds you of what you said the last time you had her. MSG in New York, another day you were supposed to be focused on work that ended up with Paige’s hand in your pants.

She nods, pretending to understand but the look on her face lets you know she’s thinking about anything but. “Okay, then come over later.”

The blonde had a way of making you go speechless every time you saw her, but right now you were literally at a loss for words. You made it clear when you cut her off— Paige was a distraction— so for her to stand here, so hellbent on getting you alone, in a way she once had you, was ridiculous.

You scoff, looking around at the now filing out hallway. You drag her off, fingers digging into the bicep that’s so fucking big you nearly are taken aback by it. “I’m not having sex with you, P. It’s done, you know that.”

“You’re tellin’ me whoever else you’re sleeping with makes it feel as good as me? Y’know that’s bullshit, ma.” She goes on, and you take a step back for your own sanity. A response bats around in your brain, you shouldn’t tell her the truth, she would get too confident. Too cocky. You didn’t need that.

It came out anyway, like word vomit. “I’m fucking celibate, Paige, there isn’t anyone else.” You grit through your teeth.

Paige’s eyes nearly glow and her mouth curls up into his God awful smirk that you’d want to slap off if she wasn’t so damn sexy. “You? You’re playin’.”

“I’m not. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” You mutter, walking across the hallway to the elevators plans sweating as you do what you know best. Work.

Your night ends with a much needed bath, soaking in the hot tub to soothe yourself of all the stress piled up throughout the day.

And the tension that only Paige Bueckers could give you.

She was good, you had to give her that. And what made it worse was that it was effortless. Paige didn’t have to say too much, or even touch you. All she needed was one moment, one instance where your demeanor shifts and your strength cracks and all of a sudden you’re her’s again.

You couldn’t shake your mind of her even if you tried.

And it made your core fucking throb.

When you finally do exit the bath— legs a bit sore from the attention you had given yourself between your legs— you cater to yourself. Legs smooth, and body smelling of sweet vanilla cashmere. You throw on some cute pajamas, matching silk with a top that fits you loosely. The plan is to get in bed, until you hear a knock at the door.

You trail to the door, manicured feet padding against the hardwood.

And then you open it.

And there she is.

At first, it’s like your mind is playing tricks on you. Because it’s been forever, and no one in their right mind would show up to their old fuck buddy’s apartment at this hour. Paige seems to be the exception.

She wears these dark grey Essentials sweatpants, slightly dirty and scuffed on the hems. They sag just enough for you to see a small edge of her Nike Pro’s when she lifts her arm over her head and her fingers run through her hair. Her hoodie matches, and that makes your knees buckle. The dark fabric makes her skin and hair look even brighter.

“Why are you here?” You sigh before she even gets a chance to speak. Being mean about it seems to be the only way you can think of to get her out. It’s for your own sanity anyway. You’ve never been able to rid her off for as long as you and Paige have known each other.

Obviously, you don’t know Paige.

Because she finds that so fucking attractive.

Paige bites her lip, trailing her eyes to your shoulder where the strap of your shirt has fallen. “I’m still on this celibacy thing. Like, are you sure? And why the hell would you want to do that?”

You have to laugh, because it’s hysterical that your vow to stay away from sex had UConn’s star player unable to think straight.

“Paige, I—”

“Seriously, we’re not having sex anymore because of what? Did I do something wrong? Am not doin’ it right, you gotta tell me.” Paige is babbling, and it makes you so embarrassed that you tug her inside the apartment before your neighbors can hear about it.

It’s unfathomable to you. “I didn’t think it was that hard for you to find someone else to sleep with, Paige.”

“It’s not! But you cut me off, and the first time I see you again you’re talkin’ bout some celibate. So, naturally I’m curious.” Paige attempts to explain, hands moving freely in the air as she talks and you stare at them the entire time. Her knuckles slightly red from the cold, veins adorning the back of her hand, and her long ass fingers. It was a taunt. As soon as you made it clear that you weren’t going, here she was. Testing you.

You take a step back, as if the distance would give you a clear head. “You’re a distraction.”

“What?”

“A distraction.” You speak up. “I can’t do my job with you texting me and telling me all the ways you want me in bed. I literally couldn’t focus.” You explain, and now that it’s said out loud you feel ridiculous.

Paige Bueckers was so good at fucking you, that it made it hard for you to do your job.

The blonde lets out a sigh of relief, dropping her arms down on your counter and leaning against it.

“You happy now?” You respond, sighing loudly.

“Ma—”

“No.” You cut her off quick. This is exactly how it went last time. And this time you had half a mind to know better.

“Let me get you there, baby. No distractions this time, I swear.” She murmurs, voice low and almost strained— hours of practice for the tournament to blame. “No way you don’t want it, ma, just please.”

Paige is walking towards you now, hands reaching for your hips and you let her. You actually don’t even think about moving. You can smell her cologne, warm and woodsy, sticking to the fabric of her clothes. Her hands trail off you to the hem of her hoodie, pulling it up and over her head.

Your eyes trail to the ground it falls on almost immediately, because Paige’s choice of a thin tank top and no bra leaves very little to your imagination.

“What do you want, ma?”

A whimper flies from your lips as her hand grips your chin, fixing you to look at her. Your hand grips her shirt for leverage, clinging to what’s left of your morals.

That’s when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you.

“Hmm? What do you want?” Paige repeats, dragging your hand down her abdomen until it rests at her sweatpants. And you feel it. Her sweats were baggy enough to conceal it, but as soon as you feel the length in your palm it’s clear that Paige was thinking about you the same way you were thinking about her in the bath. “You want it? ‘Cause y’know I’m always ready to give it to you.”

“I want it.” You whine, snaking a hand up to her neck, tugging her close to you.

Her breath fans your lips, a smile gracing her face that doesn’t even try to hide. “Yeah? Break this li’l streak you got goin on?” Her hand tugs your shirt strap lower down your arm, and the second it’s reached the furthest it could go you’re slotting your lips with hers.

She tastes like everything you’ve remembered her to be, minty but still sweet. Her lips are soft, vaseline smeared on them and transferring to your chin. You continue palming the strap through her sweats, and Paige groans like it’s an extension of herself.

“Want you.” You moan.

“I know. I got it, baby. I gotchu.”

Paige’s strap sits on your tongue as you greet it with tiny kitten licks. You should’ve known that Paige would’ve made your work for it after leaving her to dry for months. Which truly wasn’t your intention. Paige was attractive, women wanted her, and you expected her to get it elsewhere.

Obviously not.

Her back is flush to your couch, shirt hiked up to give you a view of her hardened nipples and perfect fucking abs. You grip the base, spit trailing down the length that you take into your mouth.

“Mhmm, put that fuckin’ mouth to work, baby. Lookin’ so sexy f’me.” She hums, pushing your still slightly damp hair out of your face.

You plant your hands to her thighs, taking the strap deeper just to prove that you can. A part of you thinks you enjoy showing out for Paige like this again, doing what she wanted when she wanted.

Her eyes flutter shut like she can feel your mouth, the warmth of your tongue running on the underside of her cock— and if she closes her eyes hard enough, she probably could. But the vibration is good enough.

“Four months. Four and a half fuckin’ months.” Paige says to herself between breaths.

You pull back to breathe, saliva connecting your lip to the tip. You’re completely mesmerized by her, you vulnerable she looks even when you’re the one on your knees with her cock in your mouth. You spit on it again, sucking it back into your mouth before taking the strap in again. You’re sure that Paige’s eyes roll into her head.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy.” She grunts, hips moving forward further towards you. “Gonna paint your face, I swear.”

Paige’s words send a throb to your cunt. You can almost picture it— her groans and slack jaw as she comes. You draw your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit that’s still covered by your pj’s. The stimulation makes you whine.

“That shit turns you on, ma? Just know you’re so fuckin’ wet.” Paige hums to herself. She decides to reach for your hair, tugging you up and off of her strap until you’re hovering over her.

Saliva dangles from your lip, and in her obvious lust, Paige sticks her tongue out. You’re left speechless. Paige was a freak, you knew that much, but she’s chasing after your fucking spit like she’s thirsty for it. Like she was dying in the desert and you were the only one to solve her thirst.

She almost slurps it up, the noise so vulgar that you moan in her face. Paige chases after your mouth, locking lips with you in a deep kiss. Your hips grind against the strap, paying no mind to the mess it’s going to create on your shorts.

“Need it inside me, P.” You plead.

“Celibate my fucking ass.” She groans against you, using her strength to push you to the other end of the couch. Her hands dig into your hips, clawing at your shorts so hard that you’re sure she’s going to rip them off of you.

You’ve never seen Paige like this, this needy, this horny. She dragged your mouth onto her cock with a fervor that was animalistic. Then now, her teeth nipping at your own lips so hard she might draw blood.

It’s hot.

It makes you upset that you held out on her for this long.

Paige’s hands slip to your shoulders, pushing the other strap down your arm and putting your tits on display for her. She breaks the kiss, lips trailing down your jaw, neck, and chest before finally reaching your nipple.

“Paige!” You moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as she pulls your shorts off next.

“No crotchless this time?” She jokes, making you think back to the last time she fucked you stupid. It gets her off, watching how desperate you are for her to make you come.

“I need you to fuck me,” You whine desperately, hand fisting a handful of Paige’s perfect blonde hair. “Please,” you beg. Your hips grind against the unbelievably long strap, almost as if they had a mind of their own.

“I like it when you beg.”

“I know.” You tug your black panties to the side. Paige smirks at how soaked you are, the way your slick drips through your folds. “Want your cock, P. Please.”

With your help in spreading your legs Paige is tapping the tip against you. The wetness of your pussy filling her ears like the sound of music. Your mouth falls agape at the sudden pressure. and she takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with her own spit. A fat glob falling on your tongue and you swallow it almost immediately.

“Tell me you want it again.”

You sob, body aching in need. “I want it, I want it, Paige.”

Without hesitation, the athlete thrusts forward, burying all eight inches balls deep inside you. It’s so foreign, months of being away from her to blame. A collective gasp escapes both of your mouths. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while her mouth formed the perfect ‘O’. Paige eyes you like a piece of meat before connecting your lips again in a heated frenzy. Your back arched into Paige’s as she gripped your hips and began roughly pounding into your cunt.

“You hear her? Just screamin’ for this dick, baby.” Paige hums, her words sending a rush of more arousal out of you. A mixture of pleasure and ecstasy spread across your features as Paige established a fast and relentless pace. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.”

“Baby—”

She breaks the kiss. “Imma distraction, but you can’t get off without me. Can’t make this pussy cum the way I do.” The couch practically groans in protest, its durability tested as Paige’s grunts reverberated against your lips. The room filled with the intoxicating sound of your bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a sensual symphony that echoed off the walls.

You watch Paige tuck her shirt in her mouth, giving her a perfect view of not only where she digs you out, but your tits that bounce in her face.

She’s fucking the shit out of you. And that alone is enough to draw her close to that climax.

“Y-you— Paige, baby. You’re fuckin’ deep, fuckkkk!” Your eyes were tightly shut, face contorted in pure bliss as you cling to the blonde with every fiber of your being. Your legs wrapped around Paige’s thighs, ensuring that she couldn’t escape your embrace. “F-fuck! P!” You cry out.

“Fuck you stupid, yeah? Put yo’ ass to sleep. Make it feel so fucking good, huh?” She roughly pushed the fabric of your shirt over your head. The fabric slipped away, leaving you fully exposed. “Cover me in it, cum on me, ma.”

You want her closer, deeper, anything. So you wrap your arms around her neck, tugging the blonde so close that your forehead touches hers. She keeps thrusting, seemingly noticing that you needed more.

“I know you’re close.” You murmur, trying your hardest to keep your eyes focused on her. “Paige, oh my Goddddd—”

“Y—shit.” Paige’s legs tremble, and you notice the slight falter in her rhythm. “Fuck, you first.” She lets out a groan, followed by a chase of your lips. It’s soft, way softer than how she fucks you.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming— I’m gonna cum, baby.” You babble over and over, your resolve fleeting your body as your orgasm creeps up on you. Paige lets out a high pitched gasp, her face flushed with overwhelming pleasure.

She tried to hold back, to maintain her composure, but failed miserably. A moan of pure bliss escaped her lips as she thrusts once more, practically balls deep into you as she comes. You let out a moan yourself as you feel the warmth taking over your body.

Paige doesn’t pull out, only pulling back enough to swipe her fingers over the ring of come that you’ve left behind. She brings her fingertips to her mouth, riding them out your taste.

“You left me out to fucking dry for four damn months?” Paige asks, her breathing labored from the exertion. She brings her hand down to your cunt, clit completely swollen. Almost desperate. “Left me without this shit for too long, ma.” She mumbles around her hand yet again.

She’s cleaning you up with her fingers, every bit of your release finding her tongue in almost desperate sweeps. You whine at the sensitivity, but let her.

Because it’s Paige, and you can’t fucking resist.

🔖 @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @d3arapril @wbbgetsmewetter @tndaqlwifwy @ykylalex @ohmybueckers @flipthepaige @janaelalfysblunt @cherryswisherz @courtsidewithlani @vamptizm @bdbueckers @makethemhoesmad @unadulteratedcyclepaper @omg-imtumbling @avvwritesstufff @luvnoirs

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #wlw smut #lesbian #oneshots ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

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chrrific · 3 days ago

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IN TOO DEEP ✶ bad boy down bad.

経緯 ─── 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 bad girl, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂’𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

﹙엔하이픈﹚badboy!enhypen x f!r 936wc fluff romance est.rel 경고 kissing teasing cockiness flirting nicknames ( CHERCHER )

✉️ niki’s was my favourite to write ugh (my man frfr) i tried out a new layout, so tell me how you like it! it was very slightly based off of @okwonyo & @boyfhee ‘s layouts, but not much. yet, i still wanted to give credits ! happy reading ><

ꢾ꣒ REBLOGS & FEEDBACKS click please

HEESEUNG the rev of a motorcycle outside your house caught your attention, and you could just tell who it was without a second thought. it was like heeseung had made it his life’s mission to torment you throughout the week, every hour of the day. texts, calls, and constantly showing up at your house at all given times; just like right now. peeking your head out your bedroom window, you shot as fiery of a glare you could muster at the boy, and he laughed. “what do you want, heeseung?” you snapped, patience teetering on the edge that would give way to frustration. then, without even the slightest bit of hesitation, he responded. “you.”

JAY the bell of the coffee shop rang as jay walked in, signalling his presence. he approached the counter, only to be met with you— he hadn’t met you before, and that’s surprising, considering how he knew every girl on campus. “what would you like today?” you monotonously asked, as if you had said this so many times you might consider spontaneously combusting on the spot if you had to do it one more time. “well, aren’t you the delight?” he mused, grin taking over his sharp, angled features, that made your knees go slightly weak behind the counter. “anyway, i’d like an espresso, please.” you nodded at his request, before adding it to the order. “also, i’d like a shot of your love in it,” “smooth, but not smooth enough. try harder, pretty boy.” now you were the one smirking, and he was the one with the weak knees.

JAKE a race track was the place where you least expected to be on a friday night. you could be in your bed — warm, safe and reading a book — instead of risking both your life and your ears in this hellhole. yet, kazuha dragged you over claiming she had two tickets and no one to go with, dressing you up in the most uncomfortable leather skirt you have ever seen, let alone worn. “you might even get with one of the hot racers, you know,” she had said on the drive over, earning a playful smack on the arm from yoy. well, she wasn’t really wrong. the second you sat down on the bleachers surrounding the track, a pair of eyes caught onto you, hard-set and confident. your cheeks burned under the weight of his gaze, your body heating up. little did you know, that gold that jake took home that night was for the pretty girl in the stands: you.

SUNGHOON “are you feeling cold?” his voice was calm, composed — as it always was — but there was a hint of something else behind it, something that you were scared to admit you heard. “what? oh, no, i’m fine.” you lied through your teeth, the goosebumps on your arms not providing any evidence to prove your claim whatsoever. he’d ‘tsk’ under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief as he took off his leather jacket anyway, draping it over your shoulders. it hung way too loose on your frame, considering the noticeable size difference between you and him, but it still warmed you up. “you can give it back to me tomorrow.” he added, continuing to walk you home in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, but was rather full of unspoken feelings.

SUNOO the wind blew past, messing up your hair and whipping against your face. your arms were wrapped tightly around around his waist, keeping yourself secure on the motorcycle that was speeding down the night road. finally, he came to a halt, stopping in front of the arcade. he hopped off the vehicle, he held out a hand to help you off, which you gratefully accepted. then, time slowed, as if you and him were the only ones in the world— sunoo’s fingers went to pat down some of your hair where it was sticking out, his touch almost reverent. a sound broke you out of your trance, and the rest of the night continued, but the ghost his touch still lingered all throughout.

JUNGWON leaning back onto his motorcycle, he watched as you walked out of your apartment building, clad in a plaid skirt and a tank top with a cardigan shielding your arms from the night air. a hint of a smirk played at his lips as his gaze set on your face, lip gloss shining even in the dim brightness cast by the the moonlight. “you showed up.” he said, more to himself than you, gently wrapping his calloused fingers around your wrist to pull you closer; his cold touch was a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. “of course i did,” your voice came out as a soft murmur. “it’s you that i showed up for, not the soda.”

NIKI his hands wrapped around your waist and your wrapped around his neck in a desperate attempt to merge your bodies as your lips moved against one another’s in perfect sync. you kept telling yourself you wouldn’t do it again, that niki was bad for you. but the fact just made your craving for him stronger and stronger until you snapped and called him over in the middle of the night. that’s how you ended up here, pressed against the wall with niki’s body caging you between it and him, leaving you to do nothing but kiss him back. it was messy, with both of you flooding with the need to pull away for oxygen, but you couldn’t. not when he was this addictive. not when his lips were this intoxicating.

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 days ago

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a beautiful little lie. [chapter 1] l Harry Castillo

Summary: you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), one pregnant woman, some alcohol, two broken hearts, one lie

A/N: I'm not sure if I should have posted this. But I couldn't help myself because this story has been in my head for two days and if I don't get it out I'm going to go crazy. Let me know what you think and if I should continue. Thanks to the people who put up with my doubtful ranting. please be gentle with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist]

"I told you that you should put up a signpost or sprinkle crumbs on the floor."

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and you smiled to yourself. You drove Harry Castillo to the brink of madness. “You’ve been to my apartment so many times, so why haven’t you learned the layout yet? You know where my office is.”

"I don't know." you replied, pouting your lip. "Maybe because it's a real maze?"

"Where are you?"

“I’m standing in front of some weird sculpture.” You looked at this piece of art, which was probably worth a few thousand dollars, for five minutes, Harry probably thought you were wandering around his penthouse.

Another sigh. He was already close to breaking down, but he tried to sound calm. His low, warm voice resonated in your receiver again. "How weird is this sculpture?"

"Weird enough."

You could barely contain your laughter when you heard a muffled "Jesus Christ." You adjusted the folders you were holding in your arms, looking around the spacious hallway. The conclusion appeared in your head that Harry would soon start looking for you himself, so you spoke up.

"I see the kitchen on the right."

"Great. So go left." He rubbed his eyes with his hand and leaned back in the chair. He could hear your footsteps in the receiver. "You should pass three rooms on the left, then turn right and..."

"Oh!"

A strange shiver ran down his spine. "What's that 'oh' supposed to mean?"

You cleared your throat. "Harry, this room is weird. I didn't expect that from you..."

"W-What? What are you talking about..."

"These whips, the leather... Jesus. And this?" There was silence for a moment. Harry thought it would take forever. "How is that supposed to fit in there? It won't fit. Or maybe..."

“What the hell?!” he shot up in his chair. “Where are you?” but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the door to his office open.

His assistant stood there, clutching a folder of documents to her chest and the most disarming smile on her face. He rolled his eyes, unsure whether he should fire her or kill her.

"Gotcha!" You chuckled and entered the office with a determined step "I brought what you asked for."

Harry Castillo, CEO of a large multi-million dollar company, watched as his assistant placed a folder of documents and Chinese takeout in front of him. It was supposed to be another Friday night, where you try to plan the coming week instead of trying your luck at bars or watching TV on the couch.

You had worked for him for almost a year, and your relationship had quickly changed from formal to friendly. Although you still called him Mr. Castillo at work, you were both more casual outside of that setting.

The job was very fulfilling, but your personal life was a complete mess. Apart from a few friends at work, there wasn't much going on there. But the pay was decent, and your boss was a really nice guy, so...

"Mark said he'd send the report tonight. That email you were waiting for also arrived." you said, sitting down on the comfortable chair in front of his desk and quickly scrolling through your phone "Mrs. Smith asked to contact you after the weekend. She has a few questions about the contract."

It wasn't until you tore your gaze away from the screen that you noticed Harry watching you intently from behind the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. The white T-shirt hugged his broad, strong shoulders nicely, and a smile played on his lips.

"Is something wrong?" you asked uncertainly.

"I need you." Harry replied. Now a strange shiver ran down your spine and you gripped your phone tighter.

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head without taking his gaze off you. "I need a woman."

He watched with delight as your eyes widened and your mouth parted in silent surprise. It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at the sight.

"A w-women?" you finally repeated in a choked voice "In what sense? To what? No! Don't tell me!"

You squeezed your eyes shut, raising your hands as if you wanted to stop him, although Harry was still sitting at his desk and still just staring at you.

Finally he decided to take pity on you. “A good friend of mine is getting married on Saturday. I want you to go with me.”

You opened one eye, then the other, and burst out laughing. “No, no, no!” you shook your head. “Good joke. I go with you to client meetings, not to your friends’ weddings. You have many friends, beautiful women, why don’t you invite any of them?”

Harry leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was a handsome man, and you were sure there were plenty of women who would love to go to a party like this with him.

"Maybe I've already asked them and you're the only one left, darling?"

“Ouch, that hurt.” you mumbled, squinting. “I’ll have to say no too. I don’t have…”

"I'll buy you a dress tomorrow, no problem. The wedding is in the afternoon, so we'll make it." He smiled at you as if the decision had already been made and you had no other choice.

“Harry…” You sighed. “That’s not the point. You know, I… I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” He frowned, so you tried to explain. “These people, your friends, aren’t my world. They’re always so beautiful and dazzling, and I…”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Do you think I'm some kind of higher class or something? A better species of human?”

"Can I be honest? On the Titanic you would definitely have first class. I would have been below deck."

“Jesus!” he laughed and shook his head. “I assure you, honey, you will be the most interesting person at this wedding. I know what I mean. Besides, you will be with me. If this ship sinks, you can take the door, I won’t argue with you about it.”

You shook your head, smiling slightly and not believing that you had given in to him.

The place looked like it was cut out of a wedding magazine. Your eyes moved from the crystal chandelier, to the tables covered with snow-white tablecloths, to the vases with beautiful bouquets of flowers. Soft music flowed from the corner of the room where a band made up of several professional musicians stood.

You almost jumped when someone placed a hand on your back. "Harry, don't do that." You said, feeling your heart speed up.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked, smiling friendly. He looked stunning in a well-tailored suit and styled hair. When you nodded, he led you to your table.

He could see that you were stressed. Although you looked stunning in your dress, which beautifully emphasized your curves, and many eyes were looking after you, you kept smiling nervously and were rather silent. It wasn't like you so Harry did everything to cheer you up, and he was great at it.

He didn't leave you alone with people you didn't know for long, his arm always served as your support and he made you laugh whenever he had the chance. That evening would have passed pleasantly if not for the fact that when you were coming back from the bathroom you heard a familiar voice that froze you. Someone said your name and when you turned around you saw him.

"Daniel! What a surprise! What are you doing here?" you smiled even though you had the impression that someone had just squeezed your insides with a vice.

A tall and slim brunette approached you smiling, the suit he was wearing looked really impressive. "It's my friend's wedding. And what are you doing here? Are you a friend?"

"I'm accompanying someone." you replied.

Daniel nodded in appreciation. "I came with my wife. Do you remember Beth?"

Oh, you remembered Beth. Very well to be honest. It was for her that he left you three years ago. You followed your gaze to the place he indicated and saw a beautiful blonde with a nicely rounded belly. Something sharp must have pierced your heart, but you bravely smiled.

"Still looking for a job?" Daniel leaned slightly towards you. "A friend of mine is looking for a secretary. He runs a construction company, I can give you his number."

"Thank you, but I'm not looking for a job right now. I'm happy with what I have."

Daniel shrugged. "You've never needed much, have you?"

The words got stuck in your throat. For a few moments you didn't know what to answer, and at the same time you were afraid that whatever left your lips would be immediately turned against you. Daniel was a master at this.

Suddenly, someone said your name again and in the back of the room you noticed Harry, who was walking away from a group of elegant-looking men and heading towards you.

"It's Harry Castillo." Daniel mumbled, straightening up. "I didn't know he was here."

"Yeah, it's his good friend's wedding. We came together and..."

"You're with Harry Castillo?"

It was too easy. You knew perfectly well that you shouldn't do it, but your lips moved before your brain had time to react properly. "Yes, we're here together."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely.

"I was worried about you." Harry said, walking over to you and smiling politely at Daniel. He quickly extended his hand in greeting.

"Daniel Stevens." He introduced himself. "I'm a lawyer."

"Nice to meet you." Harry looked at you expectantly.

"Daniel and I, we've known each other for a while. And this is his wife, Beth."

A pretty blonde walked up to you and Daniel put his arm around her, straightening up proudly. A woman like her was definitely the crowning achievement of his career. You weren't cut out for this.

Even though you kept a smile on your lips, the whole conversation felt like a speeding bus was heading towards you. Harry was as polite as ever and didn't even bat an eyelid when Daniel mentioned "She said that you are together. It must be something new, because nothing has spread around town yet."

"We want to keep it private. You understand, Daniel." Harry replied smoothly and without hesitation, placing his hand on the small of your back and looking at you fondly. "A woman like that is a treasure, I want to enjoy her before we show ourselves to the world."

Daniel nodded as if he understood what Harry meant, and Beth let out a fond sigh. After a few moments, you said goodbye and Harry led you towards the door.

“Do you want to tell me more?” he asked quietly, more amused than angry.

You shook your head. "Just throw me under the car." you muttered "Damn! I knew I shouldn't have come here."

Harry immediately sensed that something was wrong. You seemed more tense and withdrawn during the whole conversation. "Who was that?" he asked.

You took a deep breath. "My ex-boyfriend. And Beth... That's the woman he left me for. And as you can see, she's pregnant now. Wonderful, right?" you tried to laugh, but it came out so fake that you quickly fell silent.

"So that's why you told him that you and I... That we're together?"

You stopped. You looked so pathetic that his heart almost broke.

"I didn't lie to him. Not really." you finally said. "I told him that we were here together. Daniel took it differently."

“So maybe I should explain it to him?” Harry made a move as if to go back to the party and find Daniel, but you quickly grabbed his arm.

"No, please!" you groaned. "Don't make me feel even worse. This whole situation is already embarrassing enough. Daniel will forget about it by tomorrow."

"If you say so." Harry sighed and put his arm around you. "Come on, I'll take you home. It's been a long day."

You were quiet as you climbed into the backseat of his car, your gaze barely leaving the window as the driver drove you through the dark city. Harry didn't say a word either, respecting your silence. But this wasn't how he expected the evening to end.

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of your apartment that he heard your quiet voice. “Thank you, Harry. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

He smiled, and at the same time, a small smile appeared on your lips. He reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. “You always have me by your side. And you can always count on me.”

"I know. Thank you."

He watched you for a moment longer, then you said goodbye to him and the driver and got out, leaving him alone.

Harry Castillo had almost everything a man his age could ever want. A thriving company that was making millions, a penthouse in the heart of New York City, and an expensive car. But the expensive suits he wore and the clothes made of the best materials couldn't hide what he really lacked. Closeness.

Although he was surrounded by many people, when the door to his 12 million apartment closed behind him, he felt really lonely. Harry was slowly approaching fifty and was starting to wonder if it wasn't a bit too late for him. Maybe he had missed a moment in his life?

Yes, he had met many beautiful women, had gone on dates, but it was never long-term, and that was exactly what he was looking for. He wanted someone who could be just his, who would love him and ask how his day was. Someone he could watch stupid movies with on the couch, go on vacation, or just be bored. Was he asking for too much?

"Do we really have to do this today? Everyone has gone home." The door to his office slammed shut, and then he heard a dull thud as you plopped down on the couch. Harry smiled to himself and turned away from the huge window that overlooked the city at night.

"We'll get this over with in a minute and then I'll drop you home. Is that okay with you?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "I'm not sure. I could have snuck out with the others."

"My personal assistant tells me things like that?" he frowned, but at the same time smiled and sat down next to you. "It's just some folders to look through. It'll take us an hour at most. Would you like a drink?"

You shook your head and lifted the mug of tea you had brought with you. You grabbed the first folder and flipped through it. "You have a sponsors' party this week. I've cleared the evening and morning for you."

"Thank you."

For a moment, you were both focused on your work. You were putting the next reviewed documents on the empty chair, and the room was filled with your quiet typing on the laptop keyboard. Harry took a sip of whiskey and glanced in your direction.

You were so focused that you completely ignored him. A small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows as your eyes ran over the next lines of text.

“Would you like to go to this party with me?” he asked, breaking the silence, and when you looked at him, he added, “We’ve been having quite a bit of fun together lately.”

“Do you really think so?” you were surprised, remembering Daniel and the situation that had taken place at the wedding. “Can’t you bring one of your friends with you? You were dating Jean recently, right? What about her?”

Harry shook his head and smacked his lips. “It’s over. I don’t know if it’s even started, though.” He shrugged, and you felt sorry for him. Harry was a really great guy, even though he was your boss. Handsome, tall, well-mannered, he always made the people around him feel seen.

“Can I be honest?” you asked, putting your work aside for a moment, and Harry’s brown eyes landed on you expectantly. “I feel like you’ve jumped headfirst into a pool without even knowing how much water there is. I mean, when you meet someone and you just go for it. Expensive restaurants, gifts, flowers, weekends together… You fulfill all their dreams and whims, and yet you don’t want anything in return. I wonder where you are in all of this.”

Harry analyzed your words for a moment, until he finally spoke. "So you think I should..."

"You should really get to know someone first. And then they should get to know you too. Because you have a lot to offer, and I don't mean money or anything like that. But the real you..."

Silence fell after your words. You stared at Harry's profile, his prominent nose, the fine lines around his eyes, you noticed a few grey hairs at his temple. He was really handsome and you were surprised that you had to explain such things to him.

Finally, he moved his gaze to your face again. "How is it possible that you are still single?"

You smiled sadly. "I am a lot to handle."

"Not true. Who told you that?"

But you didn’t answer that question. Harry could tell you were sad, though you tried to hide it by looking back at your computer screen. “I think we should get back to work.” You finally said. “We don’t have much left.”

For a moment his attentive gaze rested on you, analyzing your words.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#pedro pascal #harry castillo #harry castillo x reader #the materialists #harry castillo x f!reader

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