#And then it creeps up on you and one day it slaps you in the face when you look at them and think oh. OH.

[practicalgauntlet]

Something Sweet

Synopsis- You and Spencer are stuck in the bullpen doing paperwork. Everyone else has left for home or gone out for a drink, what a perfect time for such a delicious meal.

Category- Smut

Key- (---) =POV change

Notes- Chubby!Reader, None of my stuff will ever include Hard Dom Spencer because I just don't believe that man is into anything super kinky like slapping his partner around, that being said this includes smut, touching, unprotected sex, sex on a desk, semi-public sex (because they do it out in the open but no one is around)blow jobs, heavy tension build-up, mutual pining, established flirting, body worshiping, Female reader (if anyone wants I can repost this with different genders but I am a female so I find it easier to write smut with female anatomy), early season spencer (1-6)

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The bullpen had long since been emptied, the last one to leave was your stoic boss with a tight-lipped 'good luck'. You had been nose-deep in the paperwork of your last case, the brutal story of a little boy and his dad, when you realized you were alone. Or so you thought you were.

There was a sense of unease witnessing such a busy place, usually rife with chaos and life, settle down for the night. The massive windows only further aided that feeling, with the cloud-shrouded, moonlit sky your only true beacon of light. But you were almost done, only a few pages left until you could hail a cab and be closer to the warm comfort of your bed.

However, if you wanted to finish the papers soon, you needed something to soothe the piercing ache in your stomach. When was the last time you ate? Oh, that's right, you went out with Emily and the girls for lunch. With a quick glance at your wristwatch, you grumbled at the time. It was now eleven-thirty, which made it roughly ten hours since you had last eaten.

You stand up from your desk, arms instinctively shooting high above your head to relieve the tension that clung to your back and shoulders. You couldn't help the way your eyes darted to the darkest corners of the room or the way you hovered your hand above your gun as you walked down the hall to the break room. The dark had always made you antsy, but after years of hunting the monsters that went bump in the night, you knew to be cautious.

When you turned the corner though, you saw the sterile white light of the breakroom illuminate the hall, banishing all thoughts of hidden dangers and bringing forth the fear of an intruder. Sure you couldn't be the only one in this building staying later to finish work, but you could have sworn you said goodbye to everyone. And after all those times this place had been infiltrated, you didn't hesitate to unclip your holster and slide your gun into your hands.

You didn't click off the safety though, the possibility of an innocent life was still high enough that you didn't want to risk anything. As you pressed yourself to the wall, adrenaline corsing through your blood, you slowly creep towards the breakroom.

It wasn't until you were at the open doorway, gun half raised for both possibilities, that you realized you weren’t the only agent burning the midnight oil. Spencer Reid was at the counter, his hands splayed on the counter on either side of the coffee pot he was yawning over.

"Jeeze, Spence." You murmured, you heartbeat still racing. It didn't help that Spencer had rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie, and forgone his usual sweater in favor of a white dress shirt. His hair was wild, like he had spent the past few hours running his hands through it. "You scared me."

"Sorry," He simply said, turning his head towards you. "Do you want a cup?"

If it'll keep him there, displayed for your greedy eyes; then yes. "I'd never say no coffee."

The tired smirk that flashed across his face made your knees weak. Even if he looked completely ran ragged, tired from the day and whatever paperwork you assumed he was staying late for, he still managed to send heat through your body.

You walk up to him, turning and leaning back against the counter to join him in watching the coffee pot slowly fill up. The two of you didn't talk at that time, only glancing at each other when the other wasn't looking.

"Did you know," Spencer started having reached his quota of tension filled silence. "In the eighteenth century, some governments tried to ban coffee because they thought it would encourage radical thinking."

"I did not know that." You chuckle, loving the way he turns his head to look at you. Spencer's big brown eyes seemed to swirl with emotion, something heady yet fragile.

The coffee machine beeps, startling the two of you out of your impromptu staring contest. Spencer goes about searching for your favorite mug, grabbing his along the way, and filling the two up. He dumps a shit load of sugar in his but leaves yours empty. "It's funny, in all the years we've known each other, I don't know how you take your coffee."

You grab the mug, body lighting up with excitement when you have to reach across Spencer to get to it. He doesn't move out of your way, only watching as your hand just barely brushes against his stomach.

"Depends on what mood I'm in." It wasn't until you heard your voice in your own ears that you notice the sultry tone to it.

Spencer leans in, not enough to count as a move but enough that you notice he was both infinitely closer than before and still miles apart from you. "And what mood are you in?"

Your breath escapes you, crawling out of your lungs and into the open air between the two of you. Your next words were no more than a whisper. "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The smile that graced his face was something you had never seen Spencer wear. Especially not in a situation like this. It was confident, sure...heated. "Good to know."

Spencer said nothing else as he sipped from his mug and walked back to the bullpen.

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The next time you find yourself staying at headquarters later than the rest of the team, you weren't surprised to find Spencer still seated at his desk. And just like last time, Spencer had relaxed thoroughly at his desk. He was sporting his white dress shirt again only this time his tie hung on the back of his chair with his vest and he had unbuttoned the top two buttons.

You found it hard to focus on your work, what with Spencer just a few desks away from you. Instead of the last case and what you were supposed to write down regarding all that had transpired, you couldn't take your eyes away from the cut of his jaw. Or the column of his throat. Or the tone forearms he rested on the edge of his desk. The way his lips rapidly moved as he whispered to himself while his fingers swiftly trailed down the page.

You adjusted yourself in your seat, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs and relieve yourself of the building pressure between your legs. In the emptiness of the bullpen, your movement echoed and drew the attention of Spencer. He looked up and smiled, not at all privy to your internal battle and rising blood pressure.

---

What you didn't know though, was that he was watching you from his peripheral; aware that your eyes were on him. He noticed you moving around as if you couldn't quite get comfortable, shifting back and forth in your chair every now and then.

When he looked up at you, your chair creaking loudly throughout the room, he had caught you. You swiftly look down, pretending to write something down while a blush crept up your cheeks.

Spencer didn't know what was going on between the two of you, it was something he had never experienced in his life. He knew all species were driven to find mates through different methods of appeal. What he didn't expect was to be affected by that natural urge to attract. When it came to you, he felt suave, confident, and appealing. Words and actions naturally bypass his strict filter and he became someone he'd never thought he'd become.

When you would look up at him with a bright smile, he could always tell what you were thinking. Especially once he caught your eyes darting to his lips. But he never felt good enough, not as he flirted back, not as he fantasized about what you would taste like on his tongue. No, Spencer Reid was a destined loser, fated to a life surrounded by only friends and family. Not a beautiful woman who'd allow him the great privilege of touch and pleasure.

Again, he found himself acting without thinking. He had waved you over, desperately needing to see your face more clearly, yearning to feel the warmth of your body next to his.

You slowly got up, hesitant at first but the closer you got the more confident your stride became. You sat at the desk in front of him and when you sat down your legs brushed against his. It sent a jolt through his body, igniting a flame that had slowly been stoked over time.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the only sound was pages being flipped. Spencer couldn't focus on his paperwork anymore, too engrossed in the way your leg kept brushing against his. It was like you wanted to torture him slowly; with every shift of your hips.

A couple times he peeked at you after your ankle knocked with his to see if you were doing it on purpose. But it seemed as if you put all your willpower into the paper before you. Spencer noticed that you hadn't moved on from that one page in the half hour you had sat next to him. Maybe you were just as affected by this as he was.

To test his theory, he sank a little lower in his seat, spreading his legs and taking up more room. You stiffened when he gently shifted his foot to touch yours, then the other. He gauges your reactions, forming a hypothesis as to why you were so wound up.

Taking it further, his work completely forgotten, Spencer straightened up and leaned forward. This drew your attention, pulling your eyes to his like the speed of light. "I think I'm in the mood for something sweet."

Spencer relished in the blush that he brought to your cheeks and knew he was right. You felt the same pull that he felt. You were riddled with the same yearning he was. He hummed with delight, standing up and holding his hand out for you. You took it hesitantly, curious as to what had taken over him.

Instead of taking you to the breakroom like you thought he was going to, he spun you around so that your ass was pressed against the edge of your desk. You gasped with surprise as Spencer leaned forward and blocked you in with his hands on either side of your hips. The man in question was surprised aswell, his actions skewing so far away from his intentions. But now that he had you in his grasp, your perfume clouding your mind, he couldn't stop himself as he leaned in.

Your lips were as soft as he imagined. The way his whole world turned upside down the moment his mouth was pressed to yours and his hands found purchase on your hips just so he could have something to hold on to.

His mind spun as his hands uncontrollably kneaded the soft flesh of your hips and waist. You pulled back, your breath fanning across his face as you greedily took in the air he stole from you. Spencer only allowed you a second or two before diving back in, tilting his head so he could access your mouth better.

It felt like his body was acting on pure instinct, every thought, every fact and statistic evading his mind. He was sure if someone asked him about anything other than the way you felt or tasted he would come up blank.

Spencer couldn't help the groan of delight as your hands flew to his chest, skirting up his shirt and landing on his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, drawing him deeper into the kiss as you cart your fingers through his hair.

If Spencer believed in heaven, this would be it.

---

Spencer had you pinned to the table, his hands roaming over your backside like he was trying to memorize the feel. In a split second three things happened. Spencer slotted himself between your legs, drawing his knee up and pressing his thigh against your throbbing cunt. The sudden and delicious friction had you gasping and Spencer took the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth. It took only half a second for your tongues to touch before the two of you let out a shuddering moan.

The sound rang out into the bullpen, echoing throughout the empty room and drawing the two of you back into reality. Spencer looked at you with wide eyes, like he had been acting solely on impulse. "Is," He cleared his throat, closing his eyes for just a second before leaning his forehead against yours. "Is this okay?"

You pull your hands out of his hair and down to his cheeks, cupping his face so he could look you in the eyes. "It's more than okay, Spence."

Again, he closed his eyes as if he were holding something back. The next time he spoke, his voice was ragged and strained. "You taste as sweet as I imagined."

You didn't like being so far away from him, so you pulled him back to you and met his eager mouth with yours. One of his hands trailed up your body, leaving a blazing path up your side. You felt his breath shudder once he reached your heavy breast, his hand at the edge of your ribcage as his thumb gently rested below your nipple.

"Can I-" He murmured against your lips and before he could even ask you've popped the buttons of your blouse.

Spencer pulls back to admire you, his deft fingers gently pulling the fabric away to expose your bra. In a bout of abnormal confidence, Spencer slips your blouse off your shoulders and unhooks the clip of your bra.

In the dim light of Spencer's desk lamp, you could see the caramel brown of his eyes taken completely over by his blown iris. He's blatantly staring at your tits, the cold air hitting your exposed skin and sending goosebumps over your arms.

"You're," He hums again, only this time it sounds like a broken, strangled groan. "You're so beautiful."

Before you could respond, Spencer grabbed the back of your thighs and hoisted you up on the desk. Not a moment later his mouth was enveloping your nipple. The wet heat of his mouth, of his tongue, on your skin was pure ecstasy. The way he swirled his tongue over your nipple before sucking the skin into his mouth.

His other hand came up and palmed your lonely breast, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple to mimic his mouth. He kissed all across your chest, sucking on spots until you felt blood pool to the surface.

"Spence..." You sigh, loving the feel of him but needing his skin on yours, needing him to chase the chill that threatened to creep in. When he didn't let up, you pulled at his hair and brought his face close to yours. "Spence, take off your shirt."

The look on his face was adorable, with his eyes blown wide and dark, a goofy smile stretching his face as he looked at you like you were worth the world. "Yeah," That smile never left his face. He pulled away from you only far enough to undo the buttons of his dress shirt and slip the fabric off of his shoulders.

You pull him back to you, the heat of his skin as delicious as you needed it. He met you in the middle, your chest pressed against him as his mouth ravaged yours. Spencer shifted to get closer to you. In doing this, he pressed his hips into you and you felt the hard outline of his cock in his slacks.

You experimentally roll your hips, both desperate for friction and curious as to how he'd react. He hunched over, his body shaking around you, and groaned. You did it again and he tossed his head back, exposing the delicious column of his throat.

You wanted to mark him like he marked you, so you leaned forward and latched on. You kissed and sucked all over his neck and while you were distracted, Spencer grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him.

Over and over again, he thrust into you. With his hips growing more erratic, you pull away from his neck and take his face in your hands. "Spence, Spence, stop."

Immediately he jumped back, his face flushed and his breath ragged. " Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry, I couldn't control myself."

He was too far, the open air of the bullpen nipping at your exposed skin. Instead of pulling him closer, you hop off the desk and peel off your skirt.

"You did nothing wrong, we just can't have you coming in your pants now can we?"

Spencer was watching your every move. His eyes tracked the way you hooked your thumbs into your waistband and slowly slid the skirt off for him. Thank god you chose comfort today, you didn't know how embarrassing it would be to try and seductively take off a pair of pantyhose.

You kicked off your shoes and stood before Spencer in just your panties. He was tense, hands opening and closing at his sides as he watched you with heavy lids. Half wanting to get him adjusted to the situation and half because you were dying to taste him, you drop to your knees in front of him and slide your hands up his thighs.

"This okay?" You ask, making sure his comfort is put above all else.

He reaches for your cheek, sliding his palm into your hair so he is holding your face at just the right angle. "More than okay."

You undo his button, then his zipper, slowly pulling down his pants in the process. Just because you were selfish and desperate, you shuck off his boxers along with his slacks and finally he was free.

His cock bobbed in front of you, pulsing with desire. It was hot to the touch as you wrapped your hand around the base, giving him a few experimental strokes. The noises he was already making were pure ecstasy and you hadn't even taken him in your mouth.

"Oh, fuck-" Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you plant a little kiss on the head of his cock.

You flick your tongue out, tasting the salty precome that wept from the tip. Slowly, you wrapped your mouth around him, flattening your tongue so you could take him better.

Spencer let out a long, ragged groan as swirled your tongue over that sensitive little nerve under the head. His hands flew to your hair, gently pushing your head down and pulling you back before you could gag. You bobbed your head only three times before he was yanking you back and gripping the base of his cock.

"Hold on, hold on."

You look up at him, watching as he staves off his orgasm. You couldn't help but enjoy the sight. Spencer Reid, the passionate and seemingly innocent young Doctor was looking down at you with his cock in his hand.

You bit your lip at the sight, ready to devour him whole if he let you. Spencer closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before he pulled you up by your hand. He led you back to the desk, urging you to sit back on it. You oblige, excited to finally feel full of his cock. But when Spencer gets to his knees, you let out a whine of disappointment

"I want to return the favor." He said as he stared at your throbbing cunt like a starved man sat before a buffet. But you were ready, you needed him now.

You gently tugged on his hair until he was looking at you. "As much as I'd love for you to go down on me, Spence, I need you."

"I'm right here."

"No," You look at him pointedly, slipping your hand down your stomach so you can trail your fingers through your slick. " I need you. Please, Spence."

His eyes widened and he abruptly stood. "I don't, I don't have a condom."

You spread your legs, hoping the glistning of your need was enough to persuade him. "I'm on the pill, it's okay."

He let out another shuddering breath, his hands tentatively taking your legs and wrapping them around his back. With a hand on his cock, he aligns himself with you. Spencer didn't break eye contact as he slowly pushed in.

The stretch of him, the burn, was like nothing you've ever felt. A loud,, echoing moan wrenched itself out of you as he went deeper. He's still pushing in, pausing every now and then so the two of you can catch your breath. Once he bottomed out, his hips flush with yours, and he takes his hand to your cheek.

"You're so fucking beautiful."

Never in your life had you heard Spencer talk like this, so vulgar, so heated. He looked at you like you hung the very stars he studied. The two of you sit still for a moment, basking in his gaze and his cock and his body and everything that was Spencer Reid.

"You have to move, please, you have to move." You whisper, feeling that sudden, desperate need for him to take over once again.

"Right," He mutters, that goofy smile back on his face. It falls the moment he pulls back, keeping his cockhead inside before pushing back in.

Spencer's eyes are screwed shut as his thrusts pick up the pace. It was slow like molasses and built a different type of pressure than you were used to.

"I'm not going to last long, " He whispers, arms shaking from where they were braced by your head.

"That's okay, Spence, just let go."

You slide your hands between the two of you, your middle finger swirling across your clit to get yourself to come faster. You wanted nothing more than to become undone with him.

Spencer groaned in your ear, whispering sweet nothings as he kisses and sucks more hickies onto your neck. Once he notices your hand, he slaps it away and replaces your finger with his thumb.

It was a new sensation, his now positioning thrusts joining with the rough way he was treating your clit. You were ricocheted into an orgasm faster than ever before.

White hot pleasure flooded you as you curled into Spencer. Not a moment later you feel him settle as deep as he can and moan into your neck. Warmth is spread inside you, leaking out of your spent pussy and onto Spencer's cock.

It took the two of you a few minutes to gather your breath and remember who and where you were. Spencer was still on top of you, his softening cock slipping out as he pulled away.

That stupid, adorable, goofy smile didn't leave his face. Not as he helped you up, not as he littered your face with sweet peering kisses, not even as he watched you get dressed. You felt an ache deep within your facial muscles and realized you wore that same grin.

Spencer was still all over you, holding you close to him and kissing you wherever he could get his lips. "Can't I go down on you next time?"

"Next time?"

Spencer's face fell. "I mean, if you want a next time."

You chuckle and give him a quick peck on the cheek, not at all satisfied with him yet. "How about you come back to my place if you're still so eager?"

[yell0wsalt]

Fic: I Can Fix That

For @meljaymicrofics Day 21 Be With You by Sekou

Relationship: Jayce Talis/Mel Medarda

Rating: T

Summary: Being a homeowner was a lovely privilege but so. much. work. Lucky when Mel's heater fell apart, she came across a handyman to help out.

cw: Mel being thirsty af for her handyman

word count: 1076

The thing about home ownership especially in the early stages was just how often everything would fall apart. Garbage disposal? Busted. Tub spouts? Rusted over. Current situation that ate away at Mel’s nerves was stupid heating system. The dead of winter was not the time to be fighting with the heater. She could swear her breath was visible in the early mornings. Not great conditions to be a functional human being.

The sounds it was making were demonic and with the way it hissed and rattled. A series of crude language rolled off her tongue as she dug around for the local directory in search of anyone capable of such repairs.

One person was too far out of the way.

Another was absurdly expensive for such limited services.

And another burned her in a previous repair. Servicing a repair for a repair was irritating work.

But, oh–

Talis Construction and Services…

These people Mel hadn’t tried before. Looked like a small business but knowledgeable in a variety of operations regarding house repairs. Maybe she’d give them a try. She picked up her cellphone and began to dial their number.  At this point there was little she had to lose.

Scheduling the time over the phone to make the repair shped up to be a painless operation. The sweetest older woman on the line seemed quite understanding of Mel’s situation informing Mel she would send her son later that afternoon to check it out. Hanging up the line, Mel held her phone to her chest sliding down on the floor exhaling a breath of relief. Hope was on its way.

When the doorbell rang, Mel darted to the front, eager to close this headache that was creeping up her neck. Opening the door to greet the handyman, Mel’s polite greeting turned with interest. Jeans worn down at the knees and several grease stains fit well enough to make strong legs pop. A comfortable light shirt just as worn was equally flattering to his broad muscular frame.

Since when were handymen this fine? 

Muffled sounds pulled Mel from her reverie and she blinked. “Huh?” She was half-tempted to slap herself on the forehead sounding idiotic with her huh. And now she had to convince herself and him she had neurons capable of firing properly in her head.

The man had a beautiful smile. Solid white teeth stood out from his scruffy brown beard, complementing his strong jaw underneath. And the sweetest eyes, gold like honey. ”The name is Jayce. Jayce Talis. Am I correct to assume you are Miss Medarda?”

Wide-eyed Mel looked down at his outstretched hand. Strong, thick and calloused, mapping years of work from his fingers up to his forearms.

Fuck.

“...Me,” she whispered under her breath.

“Hm?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Yes, that’s me,” she replied, rushing her hand into his, reciprocating his shake. It felt just as warm and firm as she imagined. “You can just call me Mel.”

Pulling back Jayce bent to his side to pick up his toolkit. “My mother told me there was some issue with the heating unit in your home. Mind if I take a look?”

Stepping aside from the entryway, Mel granted him the space to walk in. “Yes, yes of course. Feel free to come inside.” Her cheeks instantly blazed at the double ententre. She ducked her head slightly rushing through the main hallway to move past the kitchen and living room for the basement.

Why was this feeling dangerous?

While Jayce squatted down to inspect all corners of the HVAC unit, Mel stood hardly a few feet away, diligently watching him work. Did she completely understand what was going on with the heating system in her house? No, not in particular. Jayce’s form eclipsed the majority of what he was actually doing. Not that Mel minded by any stretch of the imagination.

Her mind latched onto the way his strong brows furrowed in concentration. The firm grunts he would occasionally let out needing to readjust his position to inspect the pipes both above and below or when there would be a particularly stubborn bolt that refused to cooperate with him. 

Jayce did his best to narrate what he was working on, but Mel’s brain was preoccupied by the glimpse of his shirt riding up she would occasionally catch in her periphery. It was just enough to catch a wispy trail of dusky brown near similar shade to his beard.

Trying to look anywhere else and regain her composure, Mel quickly became acutely aware of her state of dress at that moment. While she had a loose hoodie to stave off the cold in her house, the relatively thin lazy T-shirt she wore underneath not only did it not give the finest first impression, it keyed into certain assets particularly affected by the temperatures. 

It was cold as fuck inside.  

A change of clothes would be a helpful reset in collecting her thoughts and cooling down the flush to her cheeks thinking about her handyman. One foot on the steps and Jayce called for her.

“Ah, Miss- I mean, Mel?”

Turning around, Mel looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Er, yes?”

“Only a little more to do, but I think you should be aware of some of the things I’m finding.”

Each step forward Mel took made Jayce’s smile turn a little brighter. Rude of the butterflies in her stomach to be lively at that very moment. Slender arms wrapped around her middle in a poor attempt to gather herself. “S-sure thing.”

She tried her best to catch all the details Jayce was providing about a leak in the pipes and something about low freon, but his voice was pleasantly distracting. What she did manage to catch onto was his need to order a few additional parts. Not all of them he had on hand.

So he’d be back. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

Grateful for his help, Mel sealed her appointment off with a final handshake and escorted him to the front door.

“It was a pleasure working with you, Mel,” Jayce smiled.

“Likewise. We’ll stay in touch,” Mel said before slowly closing the door behind Jayce. Leaning her back against the door, she took a moment to consider the rest of the house. Aside from the heating unit, surely there were other hot items that needed to be checked out. After all, the work of a homeowner is hardly ever done.

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

When you see a post about romance or kissing or sm and just for a second you can't help but think of the person you're in unrequited love with.

[hypercuntz]

✩彡 nanami is always respectful to his elders, never cuts people off in traffic, and always holds the door for others—he's lived his life with nothing but good intentions. so, what did he do to deserve your unfairness?

nsfw + choking + squirting + overstim + nanami and his dirty mouth + pussy eating

nanami liked having his own routine.

it was redundant and mundane: perfect for him. wake up, go to the gym, commute to work, then back home— he deserved it. it was the life he fought for, the simplicity he earned.

so, he liked having his routine. it was his peace.

that was— well, until the pretty-faced college intern, you, tip-toed into his office one otherwise uneventful morning on black french heels to introduce yourself. through long, fluffy lashes that so perfectly framed your excited eyes, you blinked up at him with a smile, offering your hand as your name played on plum lips.

“so soft,” he thought as his fingers smoothed and brushed against your smaller ones. but the realization hit him across the face and he quickly pulled back as if burned, after realizing he was holding onto you like some needy child.

“it’s nice .. ahem nice to meet you,” the words stumbled awkwardly out of his mouth, uneven and unfamiliar making you giggle. the sound sent a faint pink creeping up his neck. his lips part as if to say something, to recover himself and you tilt your head as you wait, expectant. but he can’t seem to get out of his head.

since when did he start getting flustered like this?

he was never the type to stumble over his words or lose his composure—at least .. he hadn’t been. yet here he was, tongue-tied and off balance. it was strange, unfamiliar, and entirely your fault.

that was only the beginning of you and your “unfairness” as nanami liked to call it:

because the way you would only wear the shortest of skirts, black cotton hugging the fat of your thighs and the curves of your hips— soft fabric teasingly riding up when you would sloowwly bend over to pick up paperwork you conveniently only seemed to drop around him .. was unfair.

or the way you’d address him— always calling him sir, your voice dipping just enough to make the word linger in his mind throughout the day. how you’d put emphasis on certain words in a way that felt way too intentional:

“can you come in today? there’s a big project and we’re short o-”

“yes, sir i can come for you” .. was unfair.

the way your hand would ‘casually’ brush and press against his stupidly large biceps, fingers lingering for too long when you spoke to him or how you always, always found an excuse to touch him—a pat on the arm, a feathery graze of your fingertips .. was unfair

but most of all, the way your sweet little pussy would hug and cream around him, milking him for all he was worth and more was just soo fucking unfair.

“keep yourself open for me— mhmmm theeere you go, god. such a pretty pussy” your hands rest on the back of your knees as you pull them to your chest, spreading yourself nice and wide. he’s growling in your ear, feral as he slaps his heavy tip against your little clit, one, two, three times, rubbing himself all over your folds, “so messy for me. must’ve been playing with that greedy pussy on break”

you were.

his thumb and index finger split your wet, puffy lips apart, brushing your clit before he leans down to spit on your cunt with a loud ptoo!

when he lifts his head back up, short blond strands framing his gorgeous face, his starved eyes meet yours, “look at me … look at me while i— mmmm slide it in. there .. hahhhh— there you go. missed my dirty girl”

the stretch is just tooo good. his thick cock pushing past your lips to plug you nice ‘n full. full of him jusst how he likes it.

“fuck— it’s nghh” your hands tremble and move up to push against his firm stomach. “so big”

no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, you’ll never get over how big he is. thick and curved, his fat tip flushed the prettiest of pink, drooling out globs of pre cum.

“shhhhh, you can take it. you always do. always. haa—”

“y-yeah” you sigh out, staring up at him with those eyes he swears will lead him to an early grave, “you— always make me take i— mmmm fuck ken”

he’s splitting you open, “attaa girl, let me in”

his hands move to wrap around your ankles, making you twitch, and as he fiinaly, finally bottoms out he leans over, pressing a little kiss to your calf.

you would’ve thought he was going to be sweet if he didn’t start rocking his hips, shoving his mean cock deep, deep deep in your pussy. dragging against your gummy walls, hitting that spot you love, making your eyes ghost over and roll back.

“no ma’am. keep those pretty eyes on me.” he lets out a breathy chuckle, moving a hand to wrap around your neck. he just loves seeing you like this. loves hearing you, too. his flushed ears eating up the filthy, filthy sounds you make. you and your pussy. so messy, creamy white, creating a ring around his thick base, slipping down to your ass.

you feel so good around him. so soft and warm, making him lose control. he can’t help the low, throaty growls that escape his lips, and he doesn’t want to. he wants you to know how you make him feel. how your pussy drives him crazy.

he’s pushing your knees further and further into your chest, almost folding your poor body in half, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. he’s so gone, pussy drunk and rutting into you, rolling his hips so deliciously so that every inch, every corner of your pussy is his.

“ken ‘m -”

“your?” he drawled, smug smile curling his lips as his hand moves to your tummy.

“‘m- ‘m gonna-”

“your .. gonna?”

he’s so mean. just mocking your little whines. letting his fat thumb press down on your achy clit.

“cum!-”

“yesss, sweet girl. cum for me, make me feel it”

and you do.

babbling broken cries of his name, clear liquids squirting out around his thick cock, your unfair little cunt hugging him so fucking tightly, “agghhh fuck-!”, you milk his warm load right out of him to paint your walls a pretty porcelain white.

“sh-shit” nanami runs a hand through his disheveled, damp hair, staring down at the mess. at you.

and god, you look so pretty, all ruined and fucked out for him. cum dribbling out of your abused little pussy. so pretty and perfect. he lets out a breath, before leaning over to give your neck a kiss, then lower .. and lower till he’s lapping up the mess you made, flicking your little clit with his warm soft tongue before fucking you with it making your toes bunch up and your back arch.

“wai-wait! sensitive!” your hands shoot to his head, grabbing fistfuls to peal him off of you.

and after practically sucking and eating his cum out of you, he pulls back and slaps your clit with a harsh smack.

you’re just so unfair.

but fuck, he’s addicted to you, and he knows he’ll never want it any other way.

[amaranthinespirit]

simon riley has an obsession on showering with you.

you can never shower alone when this man is home. it is literally impossible. whenever the knob is turned and water is spewing from the shower head, it's like shaking a bag of treats because without fail, he'll stomp across the house.

but he's silent about it, somehow, despite his size. he'll creep up behind you, the bathroom door left open because it's just you two in the house, and find his arms around your waist.

he would press kisses to your bare shoulder, unironically mumble into your skin, "showerin' wit'ou me, luv?" his voice low and gruff, his hands wandering and pawing at your bare flesh before taking a step back to pull his shirt over his head.

usually, showers with simon go one of two ways.

the first of the two is when you've had a particularly rough day, desperately in need of a hot shower to rid your muscles of all the tension in your body.

so when simon enters the bathroom, your body more rigid than normal when he finds himself attaching to your back, he knows not to fuck with you. he learned this the hard way.

instead he'll massage your sore muscles, peppering soft kisses along your shoulders before helping you into the shower. he'll wash your hair for you, nails gently scratching at your scalp. he chuckles, a sound rumbling deep in his chest as he watches your eyes flutter shut and a low hum vibrate from your lips. his thumbs massaging either side of your temple before rinsing the suds from your hair.

he'll turn you around, your back flush against his broad chest as he lathers soap along your skin, muttering praises in your ear as his hands non-sensually rub your skin clean.

helping you back out, he wraps a towel around your wet skin, making sure that it's firmly around your body before turning his back to run a hot bath for you to relax in, a well-known routine at this point.

a few minutes pass, the bath is hot and full. he holds out his hand for you to take, helping you step into the bathroom and taking the towel from you. he loves the sighs that fall from your lips, the way you lay back further into the water as he finds himself sitting on the edge. his hand reaching for your hand as he rubs the strands between the pads of his fingers.

he'll listen to your day, only humming in response as he lets you be the one to do all the talking.

then there's the other times you shower with simon. the times when you aren't a heap of stress, body malleable under his rough hands as he fondles your skin. you haven't even stepped into the shower yet, and he's already got his paws on you.

and it gets worse in the shower. he constantly hovers over you, to the point where you can't even wash up as he rubs his cock between your thighs, your folds parting alongst his length.

he'll hum appreciatively, his forearm crossed against your collarbone, his other hand groping your breast, fingers pinching at the sensitive bud. his lip quirks at the soft mewls falling from your lips, his hips slapping against the plush of your rear.

depending on how he's feeling, he'd either have you on your knees in front of him, his body blocking the onslaught of water cascading down onto the two of you. his hand tangled in your soaked hair with your plush lips wrapped around the leaking head of his red, angry cock, soft, pink tongue licking away his arousal.

he won't make it that easy because it wasn't long until he was down your throat, blood further rushing to his dick as he saw the way your throat bulged because of him. grunts and groans falling from his lips as he thrust his hips further, your nose grazing the skin as the base of his heavy cock and his balls lightly slapping your chin.

saliva leaked from your lips, choking slightly as you looked up at him with tear pricked eyes. he loved the way you felt around him, the way your throat constricted and squeezed him, especially as you gagged on him.

but he's not mean, he'll praise you for taking him so well, the hand in your hair coming down to stroke your cheek, trailing down your jaw. he'll come down your throat, deep moans he couldn't hold back escaping his lips.

or he'll have you pressed against the shower wall, faced smushed into the cold tile. it made you shiver, your nipples hardening as his rough hand was less than gentle rubbing at your weeping cunt. his fingers pinched at your clit, sticky arousal coating his skin.

it wasn't long until he sank himself into your velvety walls, giving you no time before he was plowing his hips into your welcoming cunt. his meaty cock stretching out your walls, bulbous tip kissing your cervix, you're sure it's bruised.

both of his hands are around your throat, pulling you back to meet him halfway as he feels the vibrations of your moans under his palms. his pace is relentless and violent, pent-up.

and he does not last long, he doesn't try to when he has you all to himself for later.

there are no cons to showering with simon, especially since he's able to put up with the scalding, volcanic temperature you put the water to!

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: After years of being Mr. Choi's personal secretary, you had become accustomed to the dynamics of working closely with him. However, fate had brought about a change – Mr. Choi's son, Seungcheol, would now be taking over the company. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol had harbored a secret crush on you for years. — WC: 8k — WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of collapsing, blacking out, burn-out, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cock riding (pro-riddah), 'jealousy', all types of moans and whimpering, crush confessions, creampie, reader is mentioned as 'noona' sometimes.

You started at the company fresh out of college, eager to make your mark in the corporate world. Landing an internship and apprenticeship seemed like the perfect opportunity to kickstart your career. But from the beginning, it was a whirlwind. The partners and directors barely acknowledged your presence, treating you as if you were invisible.

Their dismissive attitudes fueled your determination to prove yourself. You worked tirelessly, absorbing every bit of knowledge and skill you could. Despite the frustrations and challenges, you persevered, determined to make your mark.

Then, when chaos descended and problems arose, suddenly you were thrust into the spotlight. Issues that had been brewing for months seemed to land squarely on your shoulders. It was as if your colleagues had only just noticed your existence, expecting you to magically solve all their problems.

But you didn't falter. Instead, you faced each challenge head-on, drawing upon your education, experience, and sheer determination. With each obstacle overcome, your confidence grew, and your colleagues began to take notice.

You hit the big leagues when you stepped into the role of a top executive, becoming the right-hand person to Mr. Choi, the company's director. From picking out his ties to scrutinizing private contracts, your responsibilities spanned the spectrum.

Every single morning, like clockwork, you'd hop into your car with a casket of coffee and croissants for Mr. Choi. Strutting into the office in your killer heels and impeccable attire, you were ready to make an impression, especially during those crucial meetings where you stood by Mr. Choi's side.

Being Mr. Choi's right arm wasn't just about fetching coffee; it was about being his trusted confidante, advisor, and problem-solver, all rolled into one.

"Y/N, can you schedule a meeting with the board members for next week?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, can you prepare a presentation for the investors' conference?" 

"I'll have it ready in no time, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, can you liaise with our international partners regarding the new partnership agreement?" 

"Of course, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, could you buy a birthday gift for my son?" 

"I'll take care of it, Mr. Choi. "

"Y/N, could you book a reservation at that new restaurant for my wife's birthday dinner?" 

"Consider it done, Mr. Choi."

Your life was a whirlwind, with the constant ticking of the clock mirroring the click-clack of your heels wherever you went. Tension hung heavy in the air, creeping up your neck like a suffocating scarf. Dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the countless nights of poor sleep, hidden only by layers of concealer slapped onto your face.

Cups of coffee became your lifeline, keeping your eyes wide open until you finally collapsed onto your bed at night. It was a relentless cycle of hustle and grind, each day blending into the next in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and demands. 

Despite the chaos of your professional life, there was a silver lining: the bills were paid, and then some. Your salary exceeded your wildest expectations, causing whispers among your coworkers about just how much you were making. But Mr. Choi never wavered in his support, always quick to defend your worth and affirm that you deserved every penny.

He'd extend invitations for you to spend time with his family, insisting that you join them at their summer house. You'd seen his family at various company events and dinners, and while you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't shake the feeling of intruding on their private time.

So, respectfully, you always declined, preferring to maintain a professional boundary despite Mr. Choi's insistence一Even though he wanted you to choose even the color of his ties.

On another typical day in the office, you meticulously scheduled a meeting for Mr. Choi, gathering his collaborators for an important discussion. As usual, you stood faithfully by his side, your sharp heels elevating you to eye level with the top brass. 

The room was set, and you watched as the group filed in, taking their seats around the sleek glass table.

But something caught your eye—a figure among the usual faces. It was Seungcheol, Mr. Choi's son, entering the room. It was a rare sight to see him at these meetings, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.

What struck you even more was the watch adorning Seungcheol's wrist. It was the Audemars Piguet timepiece that Mr. Choi had asked you to purchase for his birthday last year.

You remembered selecting it based on your own taste, so seeing Seungcheol wearing it filled you with a sense of pride. It was a small validation that your choices were appreciated, even by the boss's son.

As Mr. Choi began the meeting, you were right there by his side, ready to assist with whatever he needed.

"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining us today," Mr. Choi began, his voice commanding the attention of the room.

You quickly handed him a folder containing the agenda for the meeting, making sure everything was in order.

"First, let's review the progress on our latest project," Mr. Choi continued, flipping through the documents in the folder.

"Of course, Mr. Choi," you interjected, pulling up the relevant slides on the screen for everyone to see.

As the meeting progressed, you anticipated Mr. Choi's needs, fetching him water when his throat grew dry and passing him important documents without skipping a beat.

"As some of you may know, over the past few months, I've been dealing with some health issues," Mr. Choi continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "And after much consideration and consultation with my doctors, I've come to the difficult decision that I need to take some time away from the company to focus on my health."

Silence fell over the room, the weight of his words sinking in. This was unexpected, and you could feel the tension in the air.

Then, as Mr. Choi's eyes met yours, you saw an understanding dawn in Seungcheol expression. Everything suddenly clicked into place—the presence of Mr. Choi's son at the meeting.  

Then, Mr. Choi continued, "During my absence, I've decided that my son, Seungcheol, will be stepping into my role temporarily."

All eyes turned to Seungcheol as he rose from his seat and bowed respectfully. You couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty, but Mr. Choi's next words put you at ease.

"And I have full confidence in both Seungcheol and Y/N," Mr. Choi declared, gesturing towards you. "Y/N will be assisting the whole team, and Seungcheol in any way necessary during this transition period."

You lifted your head, meeting Seungcheol's gaze as he nodded at you. Despite any doubts you may have had, you knew that Seungcheol was capable. You had seen glimpses of his dedication during family dinners, noticing how he would often excuse himself to study, for example.

After the meeting, you found yourself alone with Mr. Choi in the conference room. He looked at you with a gentle expression and asked, "Y/N, why do you seem so worried?"

You offered a small smile, trying to mask your concerns. "I didn't know your health had gotten this bad," you admitted softly.

Mr. Choi returned your smile, his eyes filled with understanding. "I kept it under wraps as best as I could," he said reassuringly. "But I'm confident that everything will be fine, especially with you and Seungcheol at the helm."

Just then, Seungcheol entered the room, and Mr. Choi's attention shifted to his son. "Seungcheol, Y/N will be here to keep you in line," Mr. Choi teased with a grin. "If you step out of line, she has my permission to pull your ear."

Seungcheol chuckled shyly, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded in acknowledgment. 

Mr. Choi raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, she's the best secretary anyone could have," he remarked, his tone teasing. "If she ever decides to leave because of you, consider yourself dead."

You couldn't help but laugh at the exchange, appreciating the camaraderie between father and son. "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Choi," you reassured him with a smile. "You're stuck with me for the long haul."

The days following Mr. Choi's announcement were a fuss as you attempted to navigate the new dynamic with Seungcheol in charge. You found yourself juggling multiple tasks, trying to prioritize and triage everything so that Seungcheol could acclimate to the heightened demands of his new role.

Despite the added pressure, you remained steadfast in your routine. Each morning, you meticulously dressed, ensuring every detail of your attire was perfect. You prepared Mr. Choi's favorite coffee and croissants, just as you had done for his father every day.

One morning, as you placed the casket on Seungcheol's desk, you noticed him peering up from his papers with a furrowed brow. "Why do you bring me coffee every day?" he asked, his tone curious yet slightly perplexed.

You paused, taken aback by the question. Tilting your head slightly, you replied, "I did this every day for your dad."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Did my dad ask for this every day?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

You nodded in affirmation, but before you could say anything else, Seungcheol interjected. "You don't need to do that," he stated firmly, shaking his head.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "Seriously, you don't have to go out of your way for me like that," he insisted, his expression earnest.

You paused, considering his words for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Alright," you acquiesced with a small smile, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol's management style was different from his father's.

As the days passed and the workload continued to pile up, you found yourself working late into the night, long after your scheduled shift had ended. Massaging your temples, you stared at the glowing computer screen, the soft hum of the office, the only sound in the empty building.

Glancing up at the clock, you realized with a start that it was already 10 p.m. The realization made your shoulders sag with exhaustion, but you knew there were still tasks that needed your attention.

Looking around your office, which was nestled within the boss's office and separated only by glass walls, you noticed that the rest of the building was deserted. The departments were dark, their lights extinguished for the night.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered into the office, you blinked in surprise, realizing with a jolt that you had slept at your desk. Glancing at the clock, which now read 6:00 a.m., you felt a surge of panic course through you. You couldn't believe you had let yourself fall asleep at work.

Quickly, you sprang into action, rushing to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth and try to salvage your appearance. Splashing cold water on your face, you hoped it would help wake you up and banish the grogginess that clung to you.

With shaky hands, you reapplied your makeup, doing your best to hide the signs of exhaustion that lingered beneath your eyes. You knew that going home to freshen up wasn't an option—there was simply too much to do and not enough time.

"You're early, Ms. Y/N," Seungcheol's voice cut through the early morning haze, causing you to startle slightly. You managed a small smile in response, trying to mask the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.

As Seungcheol looked you up and down, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the tension in your shoulders from the uncomfortable position you had slept in.

Without a word, Seungcheol settled behind his desk, and you seized the opportunity to slip out of the office. The ache in your back served as a constant reminder of your less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements.

Heading to the nearest coffee shop, you hoped that a strong cup of coffee would help invigorate you and shake off the lingering exhaustion.

With the reports prepared the night before, you and Seungcheol led another meeting, this time with the financial team. You entered the conference room together, your demeanor professional despite the weariness that still clung to you from your sleepless night.

Seungcheol took his seat at the head of the table, and you sat beside him, ready to support him in any way you could. As the meeting progressed, you found yourself immersed in the discussion, your mind racing to keep up with the financial jargon being tossed around.

However, amidst the exchange of numbers and projections, you couldn't help but notice Seungcheol's occasional glances in your direction. Each time his eyes met yours, you detected a hint of scrutiny, causing you to wonder if he had noticed your exhaustion.

Desperately trying to maintain your focus, you clenched a pen in your hand, using it as a reminder to stay alert and engaged. But despite your efforts, you could feel your energy waning with each passing minute.

As the meeting dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Your eyelids feels heavy, and you struggle to keep your thoughts coherent. All you wanted was for the meeting to finish so you could finally rest and recharge.

As the meeting drew to a close and the team members began to file out of the conference room, Seungcheol rose from his seat, gathering some papers from the table. You followed suit, clutching onto the edge of the desk for support as you struggled to maintain your balance.

Seungcheol noticed your unsteady demeanor and furrowed his brow in concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper. But even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow and unconvincing, the effort only served to make your head spin even more.

But as Seungcheol's voice grew louder and more alarmed, it felt as though his words were merely echoing around your head, distant and muffled, you realized just how drained you truly were. The room seemed to spin around you, struggling to keep your balance, you fought to stay on your feet.

The last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you was Seungcheol's panicked expression as he rushed forward, his arms outstretched to catch you before you hit the ground.

He shaked you as his figure blurred and distorted as your vision faded, and then everything went black, the sound of rushing blood pounding in your ears.

Slowly, consciousness began to seep back into your mind, accompanied by the soft murmur of voices and the gentle beeping of medical equipment. Blinking groggily, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings.

As your vision cleared, you realized you were in the nursery, surrounded by the sterile white walls and the comforting hum of medical machinery. And by your side, sitting in a chair with his head bowed, was Seungcheol.

His presence brought a sense of calm to the room, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude toward him. Despite the strain of his new responsibilities, he had stayed by your side, ensuring that you were taken care of.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and scratchy. Seungcheol must have sensed your movement, because he looked up, his eyes widening in relief as he saw you awake.

You tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back against the pillows. Seungcheol placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, urging you to rest.

"You collapsed during the meeting," he explained, his voice filled with worry. "They brought you here to rest. The doctors said it was exhaustion."

"Exhaustion? I-" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol cut in, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"I saw on the cameras that you slept at your desk," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone tinged with concern. "I noticed becqause you're still wearing the same clothes," Seungcheol added, his tone gentle but firm.

You felt your cheeks burn even hotter at his observation, wishing you could disappear into the floor. The thought of him noticing you using the same clothes from the previous day filled you with mortification, and you struggled to find the right words to respond.

"I... I didn't have time to change," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of exhaustion and embarrassment settled heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet Seungcheol's eyes.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," he said softly, his concern evident in his eyes.  "I saw you working for my dad for years, and I know how demanding he could be."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat at the mention of Mr. Choi. Memories of late nights and early mornings spent tirelessly working flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting Seungcheol down.

"But I also know that you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with empathy. "You're human, Y/N, and you have limits."

Seungcheol's gaze softened as he looked at you, concern etched into his features. "Y/N, do you remember the last time you took time off?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized that you couldn't recall the last time you had taken a break. "Um... I'm not sure," you admitted quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

Seungcheol glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, you don't need to work for the rest of the week," he declared, his tone firm yet compassionate.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden announcement, your mind racing to comprehend what he had just said. "But there are still conferences," you protested weakly, rising from the bed with shaky legs.

Seungcheol shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with determination. "I'll handle the conferences," he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You need to rest, Y/N. That's an order."

You opened your mouth to protest further, but the exhaustion that weighed heavily on your shoulders silenced you. With a sigh, you nodded in reluctant acceptance, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol was right—you did need to take care of yourself.

Despite having time off, your body remained accustomed to waking up at the same early hour as your workdays, thanks to the relentless consistency of your alarm. Each morning, you would groggily switch off the alarm, only to fall back into the comforting embrace of sleep for a few more precious hours.

But something changed during these days off.

Just as you used to bring coffee for your boss, you found yourself receiving a basket of breakfast at your door every morning, each one bearing Seungcheol's unmistakable calligraphy. Instead of the usual croissants and coffee, the baskets were filled with a colorful array of fruits, a healthier alternative that he seemed to insist upon, instead of his dad.

"Fruits are way more healthy than croissants…  - Seungcheol."

[...]

Your phone rang unexpectedly in the early morning hours of your last day off, jolting you awake from a peaceful slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you answered the call, greeted by the voice of Joshua from the Human Resources Department.

"Hello?" you murmured, still groggy from sleep.

"Hi, Y/N," Joshua replied, his voice hushed as though sharing a secret. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, sitting up in bed and giving your full attention to the call. "No, it's fine. What's up, Joshua?"

"I just wanted to let you know," Joshua continued, his tone serious yet tinged with amusement, "Seungcheol asked all the departments to give you some space and let you rest during your time off."

You felt a surge of gratitude towards Seungcheol for his thoughtfulness, but your gratitude was short-lived as Joshua's next words caught you off guard.

"However," Joshua added, a hint of mischief evident in his voice, "he's struggling a bit with managing everything himself. I caught him pacing back and forth in his office for the past few minutes."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Seungcheol pacing anxiously in his office. "I'll take care of it," you assured Joshua, determination seeping into your voice.

"Great," Joshua replied with a laugh. "I'll leave you to it then. Enjoy the rest of your day off, Y/N."

As you confidently strode into the building, the weight of the archives in your hand felt oddly reassuring. Despite the lingering fatigue from your days off, you felt a renewed sense of determination as you navigated the familiar halls in your high heels.

The glances from your coworkers didn't go unnoticed, their surprise at seeing you back at work evident in their expressions. You could almost hear the unspoken question hanging in the air—shouldn't you be at home resting?

Lost in his thoughts, Seungcheol snapped out of his trance as he caught sight of you through the glass walls that separated his office. His eyes widened at the unexpected sight of you, and you offered him a small bow as you approached.

Pushing open the door, you entered his office, the determined set of your shoulders belying any trace of uncertainty. Seungcheol watched you with concern, his normally impeccable hair tousled and his lips worryingly bitten.

"You shouldn't be here," he stated, his voice tinged with worry as he took in your appearance.

You simply smiled in response, pressing the archives into his chest with a sense of purpose. "We have work to do," you replied firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "Do you want my help or not?"

Seungcheol's lips parted slightly, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment as he processed your words. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded shyly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and relief.

[...]

As Seungcheol sat alone in the dimly lit office, surrounded by the quiet emptiness of the building, a sense of clarity washed over him. He had been so determined to prove himself capable, to show his dad—and you—that he could handle the responsibilities of running the company on his own. But as the days passed and the chaos of the company threatened to overwhelm him, he found himself feeling lost and unsure.

Now, as he looked around at the neatly organized piles of contracts, the meticulously scheduled meetings, and the completed spreadsheets on the computer screen, he finally understood why his dad had always relied on you so heavily. Despite your youth, you possessed a rare combination of competence, efficiency, and dedication that made you indispensable to the smooth operation of the company.

Seungcheol couldn't tear his eyes away from you as he watched from the other side of the table. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated your face, casting shadows that danced across your features as you worked diligently.

Your unbuttoned white shirt and raised sleeves hinted at the long hours you had put in, while your hair, now gathered in a messy bun, spoke about the intensity of your focus. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in the lines of your face, there was a determined set to your jaw, a resilience that shone through even in the late hours of the night.

Seungcheol marveled at the sight of your manicured nails flying across the keyboard with practiced precision, effortlessly organizing the digital archives with a speed that left him in awe.

Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration evident as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you with guilt. "I feel terrible," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "You shouldn't have had to resolve all of these problems. I took you away from your day off, and now you're stuck here dealing with all of this mess."

You couldn't help but smile at the poor boy, his sulky expression only serving to make him appear more endearing. "Hey, it's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle as you reached across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm already feeling better, thanks to you."

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "I just wish I could have handled things better," he confessed, his voice tinged with self-doubt.

You shook your head, dismissing his concerns with a playful grin. "Well, you did leave fruits at my door," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at his earlier gesture of kindness. "So I'd say you're doing just fine."

Seungcheol couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his usual professional demeanor momentarily slipping as he made a lighthearted comment about your near fall earlier in the day. "Man, you were this close to eating floor," he quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You gasped in mock indignation, caught off guard by his informal tone. "Seungcheol!" you exclaimed, your hand flying to your chest in exaggerated shock. "I can't believe you just said that!"

But despite your feigned outrage, you couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Seungcheol's laughter filled the air as he apologized, his voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," he repeated, his grin widening as he realized the playful banter between you.

You couldn't help but mock offense at his apology, feigning exaggerated indignation. "I'm deeply wounded," you joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you placed a hand dramatically over your heart. "How will I ever recover from such a grievous insult?"

Seungcheol laughed at your theatrics, the sound warm and genuine. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about dinner? My treat."

You raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hmm, I don't know," you teased, pretending to consider his offer. "I might need a more sincere apology than that."

But as you glanced at Seungcheol's earnest expression, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time together outside of work. With a grin, you relented, accepting his invitation with a playful wink. "Alright, dinner it is."

"Let's go," Seungcheol declared with a grin, his eyes alight with excitement.

You widened your eyes in surprise, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice. "Tonight?" you echoed, unable to hide your astonishment.

Seungcheol nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling audibly. "Yes, tonight," he confirmed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm starving."

With a smile, you rose from your seat, placing the neatly organized archives on the side of his desk. "Alright then, let's go," you agreed, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

As you made your way towards the exit of the empty, darkened building, you heard a surprised whistle from Seungcheol. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, turning to tease him playfully. "Afraid of ghosts, Seungcheol?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol scoffed, his expression mockingly indignant. "Please, the building is sinister at night," he retorted, his tone tinged with exaggeration. "How could you possibly spend nights here?"

As you walked side by side with Seungcheol towards the parking lot, the darkness of the night enveloping the empty streets, you couldn't resist teasing him about his earlier comment about the building being sinister.

"It's scarier during the day with that bunch of people around," you quipped with a playful grin, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Seungcheol chuckled at your remark, his laughter filling the quiet night air. "Was I one of those people that scared you?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

You couldn't help but play along, feigning exaggerated fear as you imitated his walk with a comically exaggerated pout and furrowed eyebrows. "Oh, definitely," you replied with mock seriousness, your lips puckered into a pout. "You walk like this."

Seungcheol gasped dramatically, a hand flying to his chest in mock offense. "I'm hurt," he protested, his voice dripping with faux indignation. "I'm a friendly guy, you know."

As Seungcheol held the door of the car open for you, a small smile played at the corners of your lips as you settled into the seat. "You know, in the past, you were friendly with everyone but me," you remarked casually, fastening your seatbelt as he made his way around to the driver's seat. "It's surprising to see how gentle you're being right now."

Seungcheol chuckled at your observation, his laughter warm and genuine. "It wasn't always like this," he admitted as he started the car, the engine humming to life.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Oh, please," you retorted, a playful glint in your eye. "I distinctly remember you going out of your way to avoid me at dinners in your house. You'd even skip dinner altogether because of me."

A smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips at your words, a hint of nostalgia coloring his expression as he navigated the quiet streets.

Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of reluctance as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I had my reasons," he murmured, a note of hesitation in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, turning to look at him expectantly. "And what might those reasons be?" you inquired, your tone playful yet genuinely curious.

But Seungcheol merely glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the streets, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "I'm not going to answer that," he replied firmly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

You couldn't help but sulk at his refusal, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you pouted, unable to resist teasing him.

Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Because it's embarrassing," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly at the admission.

You couldn't resist pressing further, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer. "Come on, Seungcheol, you can't leave me hanging like this," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "I promise I won't laugh."

Seungcheol let out a soft sigh, his expression full of embarrassment and reluctance. "Fine," he relented, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "But you have to promise not to make fun of me."

You nodded eagerly, your curiosity piqued. "I promise," you replied earnestly, your eyes wide with anticipation.

"The truth is..." Seungcheol began, he glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road ahead. "I was secretly in love with your impeccable taste in office supplies."

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected confession. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. But then you noticed the playful glint in his eyes, the mischievous curve of his lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Come on, Seungcheol," you scoffed, "Tell me the real reason."

But Seungcheol merely chuckled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he feigned pain at your weak slaps on his shoulder. "Ouch, that hurts," he teased, his laughter filling the car.

Seungcheol's voice was hesitant as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "My dad would kill me if he heard me saying this, but..." he trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

"But what?" you prompted.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "At the time, I had a crush on you," he confessed, his admission hanging in the air between you.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your mind racing as you processed his words. You stayed silent, unable to form a coherent response as a rush of emotions washed over you.

After a moment of tense silence, Seungcheol continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... I was jealous of you with my dad," he admitted.

A wheeze of laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the sudden burst of amusement. But it was too late—once the laughter started, it was impossible to hold back.

Seungcheol looked at you, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment crossing his features as he watched you dissolve into laughter. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh of his own, but soon he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of mock indignation as he spoke. "You're laughing at my feelings?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You tried to stifle your laughter, shaking your head as tears of mirth streamed down your cheeks. "No, no," you managed to gasp out between giggles, "but... me? Your dad?" The absurdity of the situation struck you, and you dissolved into laughter once again, your body shaking with the force of it.

Seungcheol couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice tinged with laughter, "maybe it does sound a little ridiculous when you say it like that."

As the laughter subsided, you wiped away tears of mirth and leaned against the window, still chuckling softly to yourself.

You asked with a playful smile, your curiosity piqued. "Why me, Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you. "Well, think about it," he began, his tone lighthearted. "My dad spent every day with you, but I only saw you on special occasions. And every time I tried to catch your attention, you were busy with something with my dad." He chuckled again.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him, playfully shaking his shoulder. "Oh, so I didn't catch your charms at that time?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol grinned, his gaze meeting yours. "I guess not," he replied with a shrug, his tone teasing yet fond.

You couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol a little more. "And your charm was ignoring me when you saw me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I was a little nervous," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You laughed at his confession, enjoying the playful banter between you. "Was I really that intimidating?" you asked, feigning surprise.

Seungcheol nodded emphatically, his eyebrows raised in seriousness. "Definitely," he replied.

He continued, "I mean, we're almost the same age, but every time I saw you at dinner, you came looking like a lawyer ready to win a case."

You couldn't help but be curious. "And why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your tone gentle.

Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Honestly, before, I didn't really know how to tell you," he confessed, "I wasn't exactly experienced in... well, talking to girls, let alone asking them out on dates."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his admission. "And now?" you pressed.

Seungcheol turned to you, a warm smile gracing his features, as the car pulled up to the restaurant, Seungcheol got out and hurried around to open the door for you, gesturing for you to step out. "Well, I'd like to think I've gotten a little better at it," he replied, his tone light.

You chuckled softly, stepping out of the car and allowing him to guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'd say you've definitely improved," you remarked, a teasing glint in your eye.

Seungcheol chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "The old Seungcheol would be freaking out right now if he knew he is now taking you to dinner," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

As you settled into your seats at the restaurant, the ambiance around you buzzing with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Seungcheol sat across from you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he perused the menu.

"So, Seungcheol," you began, your voice laced with mischief, "tell me about your crush on me when you were just a boy."

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze meeting yours. "Well," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "let's just say, my crush on you hasn't exactly faded over the years."

You couldn't help but laugh at his bold confession, the unexpectedness of his words catching you off guard. "Oh, really?" you replied, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "And here I thought you were just taking me out to dinner as a friendly gesture." 

You drink a sip of wine, "Imagine if your dad finds out about this little dinner date, Mr. Choi Seungcheol…"

Seungcheol's smirk widened at your response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "And if he finds out?" he teased, his tone light yet filled with confidence.

You raised your chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. "Well, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice steady, "it's not exactly ethical for a boss to take his employees on dates."

Seungcheol's smirk only grew, his confidence unwavering as he leaned forward slightly. "I think I can decide what's ethical while I'm in charge," he countered, his tone playful yet determined. "And besides, what harm could it do after your shift?"

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in playful skepticism at Seungcheol's suggestion. "Is it normal to take female employees on dates?" you asked, your tone teasing yet curious. "I'm sure the other girls would be interested to know."

Seungcheol's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I can't speak for anyone else," he replied, his voice low and sincere, "but I only have eyes for one woman in this company."

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension as Seungcheol's gaze locked with yours, his smile causing your heart to race. "Seungcheol..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

Seungcheol's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "Yes?" he prompted, his voice low.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you meet his gaze. "I have to admit," you started, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart, "it's not exactly the most conventional situation, considering you're the son of my boss."

Seungcheol's smile remained, his eyes twinkling. "Well, technically, I am your boss," he teased.

You raised an eyebrow, "Is that supposed to sound better?" you retorted, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair as he met your gaze with a knowing look. "With that title," he replied, his voice laced with playful arrogance, "I can bend the rules a little."

You held your breath for a moment, nodding in acknowledgment of Seungcheol's words. But as you met his gaze once more, a determined look in your eyes, you couldn't help but shake your head slightly.

"You won't win me over that easily," you declared, your voice firm yet tinged with a hint of playfulness.

Seungcheol's smile faltered slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in his eyes as he leaned forward once more. "Challenge accepted," he replied, his voice filled with determination.

You couldn't help but smirk as you leaned back in your chair, your gaze locked with Seungcheol's.

Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat, his expression shifting from playful to slightly flustered. "Damn, don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You couldn't suppress a laugh at his reaction, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way you were able to tease him. "Like what?" you teased.

Seungcheol shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like you know exactly what you're doing,"

You couldn't resist the urge to playfully tease Seungcheol, so you tilted your head and fixed him with an intense gaze. "Like this?" you asked, your voice soft but tinged with amusement.

Seungcheol's breath hitched slightly, his feet shifting nervously under the table as he looked away from you, unable to meet your gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you watched his reaction.

Seungcheol let out a slow exhale, his eyes flickering back to meet yours briefly before darting away again. "Yeah, like that," he mumbled, his voice slightly strained.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his response, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Good to know I still have that effect on you," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky now," he replied, his tone light but filled with warmth.

As the dinner drew to a close and both of you felt the weariness of the day settling in, Seungcheol pulled up in front of your apartment building. You exchanged a few final words, the playful banter still lingering between you as you prepared to part ways.

With a smirk, you couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol one last time before you left. "Well, thanks for the dinner, boss," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Anytime, secretary," he replied, his tone teasing yet filled with warmth.

Before you stepped out of the car, you leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Seungcheol's cheek, a gesture of gratitude. "Goodnight, Seungcheol," you said with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Seungcheol replied, his voice soft as he returned your smile.

With one final wave, you stepped out of the car and watched as Seungcheol drove off into the night一giggling like a little girl.

You lay in your bed, the soft sheets providing a feeling of comfort after a long day. Your mind starts to wonder as you take in the moment of silence. That is, until your cellphone interrupts your thoughts with notifications from Seungcheol.

You glanced down at your phone and couldn't suppress a smile when you saw Seungcheol's message. It read, "Since you're such a busy woman, I thought I'd save you the trouble and make plans for Saturday. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll spend the day at the summer house."

With a playful glint in your eye, you quickly replied, "Just like your dad to invite me to the summer house, huh?"

A moment later, Seungcheol's response came through. "Yes, but this time, you'll go," he wrote, his tone confident yet filled with warmth.

You couldn't resist teasing him a bit more. "Who guarantees that?" you typed quickly, a smirk playing on your lips as you sent the message.

A moment later, your phone buzzed with Seungcheol's response. "I do" he replied confidently. "And if that's not enough, I can promise you good food, great company, and a beautiful view. What more could you want?"

You chuckled softly, appreciating his playful persistence. "Alright, you win. I'll be ready," you responded, feeling a flutter of excitement for the upcoming weekend.

"Great! Looking forward to it," Seungcheol replied with a smiley face emoji.

Just as he promised, Seungcheol stopped in front of your apartment in the morning. You stepped out of the building, the bright sun shining down, and made your way to his car. You were wearing sunglasses and a sundress, a look quite different from the usual office attire Seungcheol was accustomed to seeing you in.

As you slid into the passenger seat, Seungcheol gave you an appreciative once-over and grinned. "Well, look at you," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I almost didn't recognize you without the high heels and power suit."

You laughed, adjusting your sunglasses. "Surprised, huh? I do have a life outside the office, you know."

He chuckled as he started the car. "I must say, I like this version of you." Seungcheol glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "Finally, I thought you would never get to see our summer house," he teased.

You chuckled, adjusting your sunglasses. "Well, your dad always invited me on weekends to spend the day with you and your brother. I guess I just never took him up on the offer."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Really? My dad wanted you to spend time with us?"

"Yeah," you nodded, smiling at the memory. "He would always insist, but I didn't want to intrude on your family time."

Seungcheol shook his head, laughing softly. "You wouldn't have been intruding. My dad probably wanted you there to keep me and my brother in line."

You chuckled at Seungcheol's playful response, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course, you were terrible. I needed to choose my peace," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Seungcheol laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way, my dad told you about all the things we've done?" he exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.

You nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, I saved you two from a lot of mess already. I needed to remind your dad to take you two off punishment more than once."

Seungcheol's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he glanced at you. "Let me reward you then?" he suggested, his tone laced with teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Bold move, Seungcheol," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

"I grew up, Noona," he proclaimed with the new nickname, his voice dripping with a flirtatious undertone. "I'm not that little boy anymore."

You smirked at his comment, intrigued to see where he was going with this. "Ooh, do go on, Seungcheol," you responded, your tone laced with playful curiosity. "What, pray tell, has changed since I last saw you?"

Seungcheol chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. His smile widened, revealing a glimpse of the boyish charm that still clung to him. "Well, I've grown a little taller, for starters," he admitted, a hint of bravado in his voice. "And I've gained some muscle too."

You couldn't help but playfully tease him further, a challenge in your eyes as your lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Grown taller, you say?" you retorted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "And gained some muscle? Aren't you just the pinnacle of maturity now?"

Seungcheol's eyes twinkled as he met your gaze, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, don't worry, Noona, I still have my charming ways," he teased, a flirtatious grin settling on his face.

As the conversation continued, Seungcheol's cheeks flushed slightly as he confessed, "The old me couldn't even bring himself to ask out his crush, much less invite her to the summer house to spend time together alone."

Your surprise was evident as you echoed, "Alone? Just the two of us?" A newfound realization dawned on you, and you couldn't help but wonder, "Is that why you invited me, Seungcheol?"

He flashed you a sheepish smile and nodded, his embarrassment adding a touch of charm to his confession.

Seungcheol's flushed cheeks and bashful demeanor confirmed the truth of his revelation. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess it is," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted some alone time with you, Noona."

"Alone in a romantic summer house?" you echoed, your voice tinged with a touch of tease. "Well, I suppose we could enjoy the scenic views, relax by the pool, and indulge in some good food and wine. But I have a feeling you had something specific in mind, Seungcheol. Care to enlighten me?"

Seungcheol's gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he caught your suggestive question. A subtle blush crept onto his cheeks, and he bit his lip shyly, clearly embarrassed by the direction the conversation was taking.

He chuckled nervously. "Oh, no, Noona, not that." He quickly added, "I just wanted to spend some quality time with you, you know? Talk, laugh, just have fun together."

"Well, if I wasn't worried about distracting the driver, I might say something even more suggestive," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Seungcheol flushed deeper, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as he tried to focus on the road. "Noona, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with embarrassment and something you couldn't read well. "It's hard enough to concentrate as it is. Don't make it harder."

"You're not getting nervous, are you? Is the thought of being alone with me in a romantic summer house too much for you?"

"Hush, Noona," he said with a light-hearted scold, giving you a quick glance. "Can you not talk like that while I'm driving?" his voice slightly strained.

"Relax, Seungcheol," you teased leaning on your seat again. "It's just a little harmless fun. But if it's making you this flustered, I suppose I'll keep the dirty talk for later."

"Please do," he replied, his tone flustered and entertained. "Let's save the risqué topics for when we're not on the road, okay?"

You chuckled, finding his bashfulness endearing. "Alright, alright, I'll behave," you said, lifting your hands in mock surrender. "For now."

"I think the boldest one here is you, from what I see." 

You grinned at his observation, "Oh, you're just noticing that now, Seungcheol?" you teased. "I've always been the bolder one between the two of us. But don't worry, I'll try not to overwhelm you with my boldness."

"I have no doubts about that, Noona," he replied, "Bring on the surprises later. I can handle it."

As you continued your playful banter with Seungcheol, you noticed a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Years of harboring a secret crush on you, struggling to hide his true feelings, had taken a toll on him. 

Deep down, he was tired of waiting, desperate to express the admiration he held for you. You wondered how much longer he could keep his feelings restrained, how much more pent-up emotion he could bear before they would inevitably burst forth.

As you stepped into the summer house, the pure air filling your lungs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Turning to glance at Seungcheol, the reality of the situation finally hitting you一just the two of you. A soft smile curved your lips as you took in the peaceful atmosphere.

Seungcheol, too, seemed affected by the realization.

As you glanced around, your eyes fell upon the family portraits hanging on the wall. There was a charming photo of Seungcheol and his brother hugging their mother, another one capturing Mr. Choi tenderly kissing Mrs. Choi. Your gaze then moved to a playful shot of them both splashing water, and finally, a picture of Seungcheol himself. As you stood there admiring the memories, you felt a warm presence behind you.

With his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face, Seungcheol stood by your side, clearly amused by your initial reaction.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle, finding Seungcheol's amused expression endearing. Turning to face him, you commented, "Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Choi couldn't keep their hands off each other."

Seungcheol laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, they've always been like that," he replied. "They're not exactly shy about their affection for each other."

"Are you really this egotistical, displaying your own picture on the wall like this?"

Seungcheol chuckled, his smile widening as he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. "Oh please, Noona," he replied, "It's not my fault you're just now realizing how irresistibly handsome I am."

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Alright, alright," you conceded, "You win this round, ego extraordinaire. But I must admit, you've always been quite handsome, even if it's a bit exaggerated." You smirked playfully.

Seungcheol grinned, basking in the compliment. "Aww, so you finally admit it, do you?" he teased, a cocky smile on his face.

As you playfully warned him not to get cocky, Seungcheol couldn't resist the temptation. He stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your waist. You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, his eyes intense and captivating. 

However, you playfully resisted, pushing him away and throwing him a challenging glance. As you walked away, you gave him one last sultry look over your shoulder before disappearing into the next room.

Seungcheol stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the unexpected turn of events. A combination of surprise and desire coursed through him as he tried to compose himself, his heart racing.

His eyes gleamed with a combination of desire and disappointment, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was clear that the game had only just begun.

The night had crept upon you, enveloping the summer house in a gentle embrace. As you sat on the balcony, sipping on a bottle of wine, you savored the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with Seungcheol.

The soft glow of the moonlight cast a warm, enchanting ambiance, and the distant sound of the television from within the house provided a pleasant background melody. You found yourself lost in the moment, feeling completely… content in his company.

As you let the flavors of the wine wash over your palate, you paused for a moment, your thoughts wandering to your recent travels. A hint of nostalgia tinged your voice as you spoke. "You know," you began, "I can't recall the last time I took a trip that wasn't connected to work."

You chuckled, swirling the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the liquid's dance. "Ah, yes," you responded with a wry smile. "Even if it is my... boss's house." you echoed his words, a hint of dry humor in your tone.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Feeling a bit cheeky, are we?" he taunted, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Watch your words, or I might have to dock your pay later."

You laughed, playfully sticking out your tongue at his jest. "Oh, you wouldn't dare," you retorted, a smirk on your lips. "What would the company do without my fabulous work?"

Seungcheol's grin widened, his eyes gleaming. "Ah, you've got me there," he conceded, raising a hand in mock surrender. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to punish you for that sharp tongue of yours."

You smirked, taking another sip of your wine, and teasingly asked, "Oh, what are we talking about, indeed?" The question hung in the air, laced with a hint of provocation. You knew perfectly well what you were discussing, but you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further.

Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head at your playfulness. He leaned back in his chair, a suggestive glint in his eyes. "You know exactly what we're talking about," he replied.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Do I now?" you said, a mischievous smile on your lips. "And what might that be, pray tell?"

Seungcheol saw through your act, his gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a sultry tone. "Oh, don't act all coy with me, Noona," he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "You know exactly what we've been dancing around."

You stared into Seungcheol's eyes, the intensity of his gaze setting your heart racing.

Seungcheol's voice dropped to a whisper, his words laced with seductive undertones. "We've been dancing around it all night, skirting around the subject..." he murmured, grazing his fingers lightly against yours.

"But enough games, Noona... You know exactly where this is heading."

As Seungcheol got up from his seat and moved behind you, his hands gently massaging your shoulders and neck, you closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing touch of his hands. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but teasingly ask, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, Seungcheol? But what makes you so sure I want this, too?" 

"Ah, Noona, you're a difficult woman to read sometimes," he teased. "But the way you respond to my touch... I can feel the desire building in your body, just like mine."

Seungcheol chuckled, his fingers skillfully working the tension out of your shoulders. He apparently knew exactly how to make you melt under his touch. "Oh, Noona," he drawled, his voice laced with certainty and amusement. "Your body betrays you. Your sighs, your reactions... I can feel the way you lean into my touch. You can try to hide it all you want, but deep down, you want this just as much as I do."

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words, your breath hitched in agreement to his perception, your body's response betraying your own longing.

Seungcheol's hands continued their ministrations, his touch growing bolder. "You can deny it if you want," he murmured, trailing gentle kisses along your neck, "But your body tells the truth, Noona."

As Seungcheol's lips gently traced along your neck, you found yourself melting even more under his touch, your defenses crumbling. But just as abruptly, you snapped out of the blissful haze, realizing the need to regain control over your emotions. You quickly stood up, breaking the intimate contact.

Seungcheol looked momentarily taken aback, you could see the flicker of confusion in his face, as he tried to understand the sudden change in your demeanor.

You caught a glimpse of his parted lips, still moist from their previous closeness against your skin.

"Noona..." he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright? Did I... did I go too far?"

Your breath shuddered nervously, emotions swirling within you like a raging tempest. You held onto his hands. You look into his eyes, seeing the desperation and longing there. He seems ready to ask for all of you, but the sheer intensity of his gaze makes you hesitate.

"Seungcheol," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that I don't want this but... your family, our work, the company... it's just–"

Before you can finish your sentence, Seungcheol silences you with a gentle finger on your lips. His smile widens, and with a reassuring expression, he shakes his head slightly. "Sshh," he whispers, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know what you're thinking, Noona. You're worried about everything that could happen. But right now, in this moment, all I want is to be close to you. Nothing else matters."

"Cheol–"

"You worry too much, Noona," he whispers gently, "Just let yourself feel what's between us."

"C'mere." As Seungcheol guides your steps towards the main bedroom, his warm presence enveloping you, he stands before you, gently lifting your chin.

His gaze captures yours, his voice filled with desire and intent. "For once in your life, Noona," he whispers, his touch on your chin light. "Do exactly what you really want."

With a confident smile, Seungcheol leans closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Or," he continues, his words carrying a hint of playfulness, "I will."

His proximity ignited a spark within you, evoking a sense of youthful freedom.

Memories of missed opportunities and fleeting moments flood your mind. You bite your smile as you find yourself drawn to his infectious energy and the intoxicating vibe he exudes.

"I dare you," you murmur softly, your voice infused with anticipation. "Show me what you've got, Seungcheol."

As Seungcheol leaned in closer and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. 一a long awaited kiss一His fingers tenderly brushed against the nape of your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, scrunching the dress between his fingers.

Your bodies pressed close together, you could feel the fervent thudding of Seungcheol's heart against your chest, mirroring the desperate beats of your own heart. His tongue danced with yours, igniting sparks of desire with every caress. As you allowed your fingers to bury into the softness of his hair, you heard a low, needy moan escape his lips.

As Seungcheol laid you on the expansive bed, his fingers gently encircling your waist, while he held one of your thighs, you felt a rush of heat as he settled between your legs.

The bed felt plush and inviting, while the soft silk of the sheets caressed your skin. With a suggestive motion, he simulated a thrust, and a gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, mingling with the intoxicating friction between your bodies.

Seungcheol gently lifted your dress over your head, revealing your naked form. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over your exposed skin, and a whine escaped from deep within his chest. He buried his face into your neck, his voice ragged as he whispered.

"Have you been walking around like this all night, Noona? Wearing nothing underneath that dress this whole time?"

You chuckled, biting your bottom lip.

"Can it be possible, Noona..." "You cooked with me," Seungcheol whispered, his voice growing heated with each word, "went shopping at the vineyard, wore that enticing dress, and were completely naked under it the whol– fuck." He couldn't help but let out a playful moan against your neck. "You're driving me crazy, Noona."

As Seungcheol's hand continued its languid path across your body, tracing a languid trail along the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and finally finding its destination between your thighs, he let out an appreciative hum of satisfaction. "Mmmm," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

He parts your thighs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you with gentle, deliberate strokes. "You're already so wet," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "All this for me?" He slides a finger inside you, curling it just right, and then, adds another, making you arch your back and moan.

"Cheol," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as your body trembles under his touch.

He smirks, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing inside you. The wet sounds are so loud that they almost drown out your whimpers. "Look at how you take my fingers," he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust. 

Your eyes follow his gaze, watching his fingers move in and out of you, slick with your arousal. The sight and the sound of it drive you wild, making you squirm and whimper even more. Seungcheol's thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling it in a way that makes you see stars.

"You're so tight Noona," he groans, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

You moan, feeling the pleasure build to an almost unbearable level. His fingers press deeper, and you clench around them, so tight that his fingers almost slide out of you with each pulse of your walls. Seungcheol bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure, but it's not working.

Without warning, he slides down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He devours your pussy with a hunger that makes you scream, your body flinching on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. His hot tongue flicks and swirls around your clit, and he drinks you in, savoring every drop of your arousal.

"Cheol, oh my god!" you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, fingers gripping tightly.

He holds you still, his strong hands pressing down on your hips as you writhe beneath him. The combination of his tongue and fingers is driving you wild, and you can feel the orgasm building rapidly. He slides one hand up your body, finding your nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers, making you burn in pleasure.

"You're so perfect," he murmurs against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "So fucking sweet."

Your moans grow louder, the sensations overwhelming your senses. Seungcheol's tongue moves with expert precision, and when he adds another finger inside you, curling them too, you can't hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, and you scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Seungcheol doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm, extending it until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. Only when you're completely spent does he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied smile. His lips glisten with your cum, and his eyes are dark with desire.

"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding back up your body to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more. "Now, let's see how tight you are around my cock."

Seungcheol starts to strip, his eyes never leaving yours as he reveals his toned, muscular body. You wait, watching him with the 'fuck me' eyes. As he finally removes the last piece of clothing, you seize the moment.

With a swift, confident movement, you grab him and push him back onto the bed. He falls back, his eyes widening in surprise. You straddle his naked body, your own arousal evident as you press your pussy against him. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you tightly.

He looks up at you, a devilish smile playing on his lips. "Fuck, I'm in trouble," he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. "You're going to be the death of me."

You smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your bodies aligning perfectly. "Then let's make it worth it," you whisper against his mouth, feeling his cock harden beneath you. 

You grab Seungcheol's cock, aligning it with your wet, eager pussy. As you slide down onto him, you feel the delicious stretch, and your head falls back, mouth slack with pleasure. Seungcheol bites his lip, almost tasting blood, his mind racing with random thoughts to avoid cumming too soon.

"Fuck," he moans, his voice strained as his eyebrows furrow in concentration.

You bottom out, and the sensation is overwhelming. Seungcheol's hands grip your hips tightly, his eyes dark with desire as he tries to keep his composure. The feeling of your tightness around him is almost too much to bear, but he holds on, savoring every moment.

"Too much already?" you purred. "We've barely begun, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath catching as your core quivered against his tantalizing touch.

As you raised your hips slightly, allowing yourself to sink back down onto Seungcheol, he let out a trembling breath, his eyes closing as his jaw went slack with pleasure. Despite his valiant attempt at forming a response, all that escaped his lips was a strained "Noona" as his body trembled beneath you. 

You start to ride him, bouncing up and down, your juices splashing at the base of his cock. Each time you sink down, Seungcheol's body shudders, moving in rhythm with you. His hands grip your hips, trying to guide your movements一but mostly just holding on for dear life.

"Fuck, Y/N" Seungcheol groans again, his voice filled with raw need. His eyes are glued to where your bodies join, watching as you take him in over and over. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters, barely able to keep his composure as your tightness drives him wild. The sensation is almost too much, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this intense pleasure for as long as he can.

To give your legs a rest, you start to circle your hips, grinding on him, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g'spot perfectly. Seungcheol's hands slide up your body, one settling on your breast, squeezing gently, while the other grips your waist, guiding your movements.

"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his eyes rolling back at the sensation. "You feel so fucking good." His voice is husky, filled with desperation as he tries to hold on. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in circles to match the rhythm of your hips.

You moan loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure builds even more intensely. "Cheol," you gasp, "I can't hold it much longer." Your body trembles, every nerve ending on fire.

"Don't hold back, baby, don't hold it" he urges, his voice strained but filled with encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

You hold a little longer to ask him, "How does it feel, Seungcheol," you whisper, "to finally have the woman you've had a longstanding crush on, sitting on you like this?"

Seungcheol stutters, his breath hitching as he feels your walls clenching and unclenching purposely around him. "F-fuck, Noona," he groans, his voice shaky and full of raw need. "It's... it's everything I ever dreamed of and more."

You smirk, enjoying the power you have over him. "Is that so?" you tease, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. "I never knew you had such dirty fantasies about me."

He bites his lip, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You have no idea," he admits, his voice low and strained. "I’ve wanted you for so long. Seeing you like this... feeling you like this... it’s driving me insane."

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Good," you whisper, clenching around him again. "I want you to remember this feeling, Seungcheol. Every time you look at me, I want you to remember how it feels to be inside me."

He shudders, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. "I won't forget," he promises, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I'll never forget this, Noona."

You lean down further, your breath hot against his ear. "Seungcheol," you whisper, your voice sultry and teasing, "I can feel how close you are. Do you want to cum inside me? Do you want to fill me up with everything you've got?"

His eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "Fuck, Noona, you're gonna make me—"

You cut him off with a sharp thrust, feeling his cock throb inside you. "Tell me how good it feels," you demand, your own voice trembling with need. "Tell me how much you love fucking me."

"It feels so fucking good," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips. "I love it, Noona. I love fucking you so much. You're so tight, so wet, I can't hold on—"

You can feel your own orgasm building, spurred on by his desperate words and the intensity of his gaze. "That's it, baby," you purr, riding him harder. "Cum for me, Seungcheol. Fill me up. I want to feel you cumming inside me."

His eyes roll back, and he grips you even tighter. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'm cumming—"

"Fu一... ahh,"

As Seungcheol's release fills you to the brim, you feel a warm, liquid sensation spreading inside you, overflowing with his essence. He holds you close, pressing your bodies together as if to recompose the bond between you.

Just as you're catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, Seungcheol suddenly flips you over onto the bed with a determined look in his eyes. His hands roam over your body, trailing fire wherever they touch, and you can feel the familiar ache building within you once again.

"I need to make you cum again Noona."  "Now, let me take care of you."

With a sudden burst of energy, Seungcheol flips you over onto your stomach, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he prepares to make you cum all over again.

Seungcheol's cock enters you deep and sloppy, the abundance of lubrication spilling out around him. You scream into the sheets as he presses your head down onto the bed, his movements becoming more assertive as he thrusts into you with purpose.

Your breath grew sharper with every thrust, each one pushing you closer to the precipice.

"I've imagined this moment... countless times," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Having you like this... under me, writhing and gasping."

"So… Ah! Nasty, Seungcheol!" 

Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle at your teasing remark, his eyes filled with both affection and desire. As he continued to drive into you, he replied with a playful smack on the ample flesh of your ass.

"You have no idea," he murmured.

As you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, your vision temporarily white in the overwhelming sensations, his name left your throat all whiny and strained. Seungcheol couldn't help but whine in response to his own heightened sensitivity. 

He wanted to please you, to bring you to climax, but the overwhelming experience only made him more reactive to your every move and sound.

The intensity of your climax began to subside, your body finally melting into the sheets, Seungcheol stumbled off the bed, his legs trembling from the intense sex. 

He made his way to the bathroom, seeking out some wipes to gently clean you up, his own breaths still ragged and unsteady.

As Seungcheol returned with the wipes, he found you lying there, chest heaving and breath labored. He crawled back into bed next to you, gently beginning to clean you up, his touch tender and caring.

"You alright there, Noona?" he asked, a hint of concern mingling with his breathless voice. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"

You reached out, gently running your fingers through Seungcheol's messed hair, a weary yet satisfied smile playing on your lips.

"I'm okay, baby…" you whispered, your voice filled with contentment. 

He couldn't help but bite back a smile at your choice of words.

As Seungcheol continued his gentle ministrations, cleaning you up with the wipes, taking care to not overwhelm you when he brushes the wipes against your clit.

"Baby?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you're calling me now?" Despite the teasing tone, there was a warmth in his eyes that betrayed his affection

"You're such a big baby Seungcheol…"

In response to your lighthearted comment, Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before responding.

"Well, I am big, you're not wrong about that," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face. "But I guess 'big baby' suits me just fine, especially if it's coming from you."

As Seungcheol finished cleaning you up, he tossed the wipes aside and draped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer. He leaned in, peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his touch gentle.

"And your image," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "riding me like that... it's something I'll never forget. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

"Did you like it?" You ask him, giving a glance over your shoulder. 

Seungcheol furrowed his brows, giving you a slightly exasperated look, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Noona, that was a rhetorical question, right?" he teased, a hint of affectionate amusement in his voice. "Of course I liked it."

[...]

In the soft morning light, sunlight trickled into the room, and you woke to the gentle sensation of Seungcheol's fingers running through your hair. As your eyes slowly opened, you found him already dressed, looking striking in the warm glow.

"Noona," he whispered, his gaze tender and filled with affection. "My parents... they're here."

Hearing this, you instantly sat upright in bed, your eyes widening in shock.

The realization that Seungcheol's parents had arrived hit you like a bolt of lightning. You hastily stumbled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom, leaving him chuckling at your flustered state.

You quickly emerged from the bathroom, your hair still damp and clinging to your skin, a bath towel wrapped tightly around your body. You found Seungcheol lounging on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone.

"Cheol," you began with a slight scowl, "why didn't you tell me your parents arrived earlier? I could've prepared myself better!"

Seungcheol shrugged apologetically, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Honestly, Noona, I had no idea they were coming either," he admitted, offering a sincere smile. "They didn't give a heads up, and I couldn't warn you beforehand."

You let out a sigh, the lingering worry evident on your face. "It's not just about that," you murmured, "What will they think of me... sleeping with you… their son, my boss?"

"Noona, my parents aren't like that," he assured you, gently squeezing your hand. "They won't judge you based on your relationship to me or your job. They see the person you are, and that's all that matters."

He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm pretty sure they already love you just because you're so good at bossing me around."

You playfully gave Seungcheol's shoulder a gentle slap, your worries momentarily replaced by a smile. As you both left the bedroom, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards the living room.

You had worked closely with Seungcheol's father for years, and the thought of them knowing about your intimate relationship was nerve-wracking. Yet, Seungcheol's calming presence beside you helped ease your nerves.

Mr. Choi regarded you with a warm and teasing smile as you bowed in greeting. "Ah, there she is!" he exclaimed with feigned, feigned, disappointment. "The famous Y/N who refuses my invitations to the summerhouse. But with my son, suddenly she finds the time."

Mrs. Choi chuckled softly at her husband's jest, her eyes filled with warmth.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, totally embarrassed. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Choi," you apologized, your voice soft. "It's just... Seungcheol has a way of convincing me."

Mr. Choi's eyes gleamed with an affectionate pride as he spoke. "When Seungcheol was younger," he began, gesturing with his hands, "he used to come to me, curious about you. He would ask, 'Father, do you think Noona could be interested in someone like me?'"

His voice was tinged with amusement as he continued, "I always told him, 'Son, Y/N is quite the catch. You just need to be patient, and show her your true self.' And look where we are now."

"'How is Noona today?' 'What's Noona doing?' 'When is Noona coming to visit?'" His mom continues. 

Seungcheol's face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he hurriedly covered his face with his hands, visibly embarrassed by his father's words. You seized the opportunity to add to the teasing, a playful grin on your face.

"Oh, Cheollie," you teased, "So it's true, you were quite smitten with me even back then. How utterly endearing."

[classyrbf]

THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE WOODS! — GETO SUGURU

KINKTOBER WEEK ONE

SYNOPSIS...walking home from a halloween party, you decided to take a shortcut, but an eerie feelings creeps up your spine and it feels like eyes are watching your every move

INFO...stalker!geto x fem!reader, for the sake of the story everything is consensual, a fantasy between geto and reader, stalking, groping, fingering, ripping clothes, sex in the woods, choking, hair pulling, oral (m!receiving), deep throating, rough, name calling, degradation, slapping, spanking, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

kinktober 2024 masterlist

The wind howled in your ears and the moon was illuminating your every step home. You were cold, the costume that you had on was no help, shivering as you hugged yourself tightly. It was a stupid idea to go to a Halloween party without thinking of how you were going to get back home. Everyone was either drunk driving, or their cars were already filled with other passengers, and to put the cherry on top…your phone had died so you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up. You mentally cursed at yourself for staying so late in the first place, it had to be at least three in the morning. Everyone else was asleep and done with their trick or treating activities, lights off at every house in your sight.

“Fuck me,” you sighed, stopping when you came to a fork in the road. You took the left path knowing that it was a shortcut to your house and you didn’t plan on walking any longer than you needed to in these godforsaken heels. The wind brushed against your exposed skin, goosebumps climbing their way up your body. The further you stepped into the forest, darkness began to surround you. The large, twisted branches allowing very few rays of moonlight to shine through. Tall trees hovered over you, casting shadows. You’d be lying if you said this shortcut wasn’t one hundred times creepier at night compared to day.

Leaves rustled in the wind, branched snapped under your feet and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder every five seconds to make sure no one was following you. It felt like eyes were watching your every movement, dark figures in the tree line stalking you like prey, waiting to pounce. “It’s all in your head,” you mumbled to yourself, walking faster. Though, your words were no help. Your eyes darted in every direction, barely paying attention to what was in front of you causing you to trip over a tree root sticking out. You fell to your knees, wincing in pain when you saw little blood droplet stain your stockings. “You gotta be kidding me,” you whined.

As you sat there on the floor trying to regain yourself, you heard a twig snap in the distance. With wide eyes, you got up as quickly as you could and looked around. “Hello?” You called out, your voice echoing through the forest. And just like that, you heard it again. Your feet moved before you could even think and you began to run as fast as you could in the shoes you were wearing. It would be better to take them off but you couldn’t stop now.

Your breathing quickened with each passing second and just a few feet behind you, you could hear footsteps. Fear struck your heart and you could only focus on the clearing up ahead. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if it was some animal, but you weren’t going to stop and check. Something didn’t feel right and that’s all you needed to know to get your ass out of here. The clearing was only so close now and your chest burned from the cold air that filled your lungs. Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears and the pain from your busted knee dissipated from the adrenaline rushing through you.

The streetlights came into view and just before you could make it, you felt a hard tug on your dress, a rough hand pulling you back into the darkness and covering your mouth as you screamed into it, squirming around in his tight grip. Each kick and punch to his body didn’t do a thing and the clearing soon began to grow smaller. “Shh, shh, shh.” His breath tickled your ear. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered. He pushed you up against a tree, slowly appearing in your view. You couldn’t quite make out his face, but his tall silhouette, muscular frame, and long dark hair was quite obvious. “Promise me you won’t scream? If you do, you’ll be in big trouble.”

Your entire body was shaking, weak. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn’t know if he had a weapon, but you didn’t want to find out the hard way. He slowly removed his from your mouth, and let out a chuckle with how hard you were breathing. “Please don’t hurt me,” you sniffled, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt your body was glued to the tree, any sudden movement would make you drop. “What do you want? I don’t have any money…here,” you handed him your phone, “take it, it’s all I have.” More tears streamed down your face.

He looked at your phone with disinterest before looking back up at you. “Don’t you recognize me?” He questioned. You meekly shook your head no. “I guess I did a good job then,” he laughed. “I thought you noticed me but I guess not.” He brushed his hand against your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I was watching you the whole night. Watching you get drunk, dance with your friends, kiss random strangers, and I kept thinking how pretty you were. Ever since you walked in that door.” He gripped your chin tightly, leaning in closely in the crook of your neck.

You whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he smelled you. “Please, let me go. I’ll do anything.” You weren’t sure if negotiating with him was going to work, but you were willing to do anything in order to just go home. But, he completely ignored you and continued rubbing up on you. His hands roamed freely, down your stomach and back, up to your tits where he gave them a squeeze. It wasn’t until he moved away from you that you saw some of his features. His chiseled face, and dark, narrow eyes, his slightly tan skin, and plump lips. His hair flowed with the wind, the leaves falling from above.

Within a split second, he pushed his lips onto yours, roughly kissing you, his tongue forcefully pushing inside your mouth. His hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you to the tree while his other hand reached under your dress to rub your cunt through your stocking and panties. You whimpered into the kiss, pulling away to catch your breath. “These are in the fucking way,” he grunted, ripping your tights with one hand. He pushed your panties to the side, smirking as he ran his finger up and down your slit. A small gasp left his lips when he could feel your juices coat his finger. “You’re wet. This turn you on? Being chased and caught in the woods so some stalker could fuck you?” His slipped his finger inside, watching the way your jaw fell open.

“You’re just as sick as I imagined,” he let out a deep chuckle, curling his finger inside of you before adding another. He still had you pinned against the tree with your legs spread, your dress bunched up at your waist while he thrusted his long, thick fingers inside of you. “You’re sucking my fingers right in.” A smirk formed at the corner of his lips, your pussy squelching the faster he went, your juices dripping down his fingers.

A small whine escaped your throat looking at the man in front of you. You weren’t sure whether to be scared or turned on. Maybe you were both. Was it wise to entertain this? That question ran through your head over and over. He leaned back towards your lips, hungry for another kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. Without thinking, your arms wrapped around him as your legs grew weak, nearly falling from how good his fingers felt inside of you.

His dick strains against his slacks, damn near painful from how hard he was. “Get on the fucking floor.” He slips his fingers out from inside you, pushing you down to your knees and against the tree. You look up at him confused before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, making you taste yourself on your fingers. He’s quick to undo his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. Your eyes widen as his dick springs out, swollen red tip, and pulsating veins on either side of his shaft. Precum drips from the tip and he smears it over his cock, slowly jerking himself off to the sight of you sucking his fingers.

“Stick out that tongue for me, baby. Open up.” He removes his fingers from your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair before he slaps his heavy dick on your tongue. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs. He rubs his dick all over your face, slapping you with in, pushing it between your lips. He grips your hair tighter, pushing your head down onto his cock. “Fuckkkk,” he moans as feels your warm tongue rub along his shaft and your throat squeeze around him. You immediately gag as he goes further, eyes watering before you gag again, your nose touching his pelvis. “Stay just like that, don’t you fucking move.” He holds your head down for a few seconds before he lets go, allowing you to breathe.

You gasp for air, letting out dry coughs as he laughs at you. Strings of spit connect from your mouth to his dick, dripping down to his balls. His hand grips your hair again and you let out a pained whimper. “First time taking dick down your throat, huh?” He mocks you, stilling laughing in your face. You stare up at him with tearful eyes, wiping your mouth of all the spit. But before you could blink, a sharp pain spreads across your cheek, your head jolting to the other side. Did he just slap you? “Did I say you could wipe your mouth? No, no I don’t think I did. I like it messy, so get used it.” With force, he shoves his dick back in your throat.

You throat closes in around him again, gagging. Tears stream down your face as he fucks your mouth. Glug glug glug glug. You place your hands on his thighs in attempt to get him to slow down but he just goes harder, the back of head pushed against the tree and trapped between his thighs. He pushes your nose against his pelvis once more, spit dripping down your chin and from his balls. “Ugh, fuck! This throat feels so good!” His abs tense up and your eyes roll into the back of your head before he removes himself from your throat.

You’re coughing again, chest heaving up and down while you sit there on your knees trying to catch your breath. “Please, I can’t, my throat hurts.” Your brows furrow.

He grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Someone’s gotta teach you how to suck dick properly, baby. I don’t give a fuck if your throat hurts,” he harshly says. He slaps his dick against your face, smearing your spit all over. “Come on, impress me.” He stares down at you with those dark eyes. You’re quick to understand that he wants you to suck his dick yourself. “Remember, I like it messy.”

Both hands wrap around his cock, jerking him off as you move your wrist in a circular motion, taking the rest of him in your mouth. Your tongue swirling around his head, gathering as much spit as you could. You look up at him, taking him slightly further down your throat before coming back up. “That’s it, keep those eyes on me. Don’t you dare fucking look away.” He grits his teeth, eyes rolling back when you bob your head up and down his shaft. Your jaw grows tired, pulling away to give yourself a break, your hands still gripping his length.

Streaks of mascara stain your cheeks, your lip stick smeared across your lips. He reaches down to pet your face, admiring the view. He can see that your scared, but he can also tell that you’re enjoying this. It only makes him want to get your blood pumping more. “Make me fucking cum. Put it back in your mouth.” He places his hand on the back of your head, pushing it down, your throat accommodating to his size. “You’re such a quick learner. Taking it like a fucking whore.” He bites down on his bottom lip, thrusting his hips at a sharp pace. “Open up that throat. Come on,” he growls.

You body jolts forward as you gag, your nails digging into his thighs as he pushes your nose against his pelvis. You can feel him twitch and pulsate in your throat and before you know it hot spurts of cum coat your throat. “Uh huh, fuck, fuck. Take it, baby. Mmmph!” His jaw goes slack, holding your head down until your slapping his thighs to breathe. Luckily, he lets you pull away after he drains all of his cum. You barely have time to recover before he’s snatching you back to your feet, spinning you around and pushing you against the tree. “Did such a good job sucking my dick. I wanna know if this pussy can do the same.” A swift slap to your ass makes you whimper, holding onto the tree for support while it scratches at your skin.

“Go slow, please,” you beg. You wish you would’ve never said anything because your words only added fuel to the fire. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone and slipping him that piece of information made him do the opposite of what you asked for.

“Go slow? Huh? No, no.” His hand snaked around your throat, pulling your back against his chest while he whispered in your ear. “I’ll do what I want with you.” He smacked your ass again, tearing off your panties and tossing them somewhere into the woods. “Say you want me to fuck you,” he ordered. You silently stood there in his arms, biting down on your bottom lip as you braced for whatever he was going to give you. “Say it!” He huskily whispered, rubbing his shaft up and down your sopping slit.

“Fuck me,” you meekly spoke.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He kissed your jaw so softly, his other hand reaching down to toy with your puffy clit. He let out a blissful sigh as your moans, continuing to rub it in circles in such a teasing manner. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, please,” you said a little louder this time. “Ah!” A yelp left your lips when he slipped inside, pushing his entire length in, the burning stretch making you wince. “Oh fuck!” You whined. His thrusts were brutal, his cock reaching your deepest points. His arm wrapped your torso, holding you up while simultaneously pulling you back on his cock. The sudden sensation of him inside you became so overwhelming, you couldn’t help but squirm in his grip.

The sound of skin to skin echoed through the woods and your lewd moans along with it. Ripples of pleasure shot through every part of your body. Your hands reached out for the tree, finding stability to hold yourself up. His breath shuddered against your neck, desperate moans and grunts filling your ears. “You’re so fucking wet—nnngh fuck!” He growled. His fat tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, tears pricking your eyes before spilling over. Suddenly, he slowed down his thrusts, going harder and slower, allowing you to feel every throbbing inch.

“Ah!” You squealed when he slammed his hips against yours, only to slowly pull back out again. Each hard jolt of his hips sent your body forward, your knees already ready to give out. “Ah!” You screamed in pleasure, reaching down to grip onto his forearm.

His hand shot over your mouth, muffling your cries and moans. “Go ahead and scream, baby. You think someone is gonna hear you? It’s just me…and…you.” Each of his words were punctuated with hard thrusts. You moaned into his hand, your eyes screwed shut. He could feel you clench around him, letting out a blissful sigh. He pressed against you, going as deep as he could and stayed there. A sharp gasp escaped your throat, eyes widening as you tried to move your hips. “You’re mine now,” he breathily whispered.

“Mmph! Mmmph!” As he began pounding into you again your eyes rolled back, feeling him in the deepest parts of you. “Please, please, please,” you cried, voice breaking through your tears. Your mind grew hazy, too clouded to even think clearly. His thrusts were so sharp, so animalistic. He roughly grabbed your chin, forcing it in his direction before planting a hungry, sloppy kiss on your lips. Both of swallowed each others lewd moans, gasping for air between wet kisses.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He rasped, staring into your eyes. All you could force was a nod. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over your stalkers dick, baby? Do it. Give it to me. Show me how dirty you are.” He pressed deeper, your entire body trembling. The feeling your pussy pulsating around him only fueled him to go faster, his grip on your entire body tightening while you came. “That it’s—f-fuck!” His voice trembled.

Your entire body quivered with pleasure, high pitched whines spilling from your lips, barely able to form proper words. His brutal pace sent your mind into a spiral. Each greedy stroke sent him closer to the edge, his thrust growing sloppier and his thoughts growing dirtier, thinking of filling you up with his cum and watching it leak out of you. “Oh my god! S-slow down! Gonna cu—nnngh!” Before you could even say it, you were already cumming a second time, your orgasm ripping through your entire body and sucking the air of your lungs.

“Yes, yes! Cum on my dick. You’re gonna make me cum, baby. Fuck your self on my dick. Work for it.” He pushed your weak body against the tree, his chest rising and falling as you so desperately fucked him, throwing your ass back. He looked down, watching the way he disappeared inside your messy cunt, creaming around him and sucking him in. You circled your hips, moving back and forth, feeling your ass ripple against his pelvis. “Fucking work for it.” His hand swatted your ass several times, the stinging sensation that lingered on your skin making you whimper. “Atta girl. Right fucking there…shit, baby. Just like that, just like that,” he whined, reaching down to squeeze the plump flesh.

Low guttural groans collided with your moans, echoing through the lonely forest. He was so close to cumming, you could tell. His big strong hands took ahold of your hips as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. “Ah…oh fuck…mmph—s-shit!” He shuddered, hot spurts of cum painting your walls. You pushed back into him, biting down on your bottom lip, not wanting one last drop to go to waste. After several seconds, he slowly pulled out, trying to catch his breath. He forcefully grabbed you, standing you upright even though your entire body was shaking.

After coming down from your high, you realized you just fucked your stalker and let him cum inside you. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. Both of you stared at each other, eyes searching deep within. You were left confused, speechless. You flinched when he brought his hand up to your cheek, gently stroking it with the pad of his thumb. His eyes flickered down to your lips, placing the most gentle kiss on them—the most gentle one since you’ve met him. Yet, you found yourself kissing him back. “Who are you?” Your voice broke the silence, nervously scanning his features.

His lips quirked up into the slightest smirk. “Just the boy who saw you at the Halloween party.” From the very beginning he was never going to give you his name. “Your stalker.” He seemed to take pride in his words, now smiling at you.

You gulped, blinking up at him. “My stalker.”

taglist (closed):

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[dollyichi]

IN-STORE EXCLUSIVE

katsuki bakugou x f ! reader ᯓ★ 1.7k words. fluff / both are pro-heroes / maybe a little ooc but idc / no established relationship, he likes you though / hints on mutual feelings / not proofread

you catch him buying your merch during a morning patrol.

katsuki’s currently getting ready for the day. it’s his day off and could’ve chosen stayed in as usual, but he had an agenda. he’s already thinking of it while he’s tying his shoes, how he could approach it the best he can. well, maybe a bit too seriously.

he thinks it’s stupid but he’s been wanting to visit this new merch store in the city that opened the other day. he missed the big opening, which was fine—better not to get ‘caught’ and bring any attention to him, especially not when midoriya’s the main guest for the opening promotions. he doesn’t want midoriya to run his mouth in front of everybody.

it’s still early morning, and he hopes not a lot of people were in the area, assuming most of them are busy or on the way to work, so their routes should be different from the one he’ll take. he even made sure to check who’s patrolling. it’s just todoroki today, so he didn’t mind. it’s a secluded area, having to pass an alley to enter the store’s street no one should be there anymore since most exclusives for the grand opening should be sold out.

with a huff, he locks the front door and makes his way to the shop. pushing down his cap further. kids were able to recognize him though, giving him a wave while their parents apologized. “i’m on a secret mission kid.” he says as a joke and they nod in enthusiasm, happy to see a hero at work. “pfft.” he laughs to himself when the kid salutes him and goes back to his mother.

once he gets to the store, he’s scanning the area, only a few people were inside. it’s pretty big, seeing how there were also other merch aside from the heroes section.

the staff greets him a good morning from the counter and he gives him a nod. he checks his face if he remembered to put his face mask on. he sighs in relief feeling the cloth on his mouth and goes to the heroes aisle—he looks like a creep the staff doing rounds almost wanted to kick him out.

“lots of me in here.” he mumbles to himself.

he thinks it’s crazy how high the prices were for a figurine of him (the manufacturers usually gives it to him for free). he looks around, cringing when he sees midoriya and todoroki’s section. “shit’s not even worth the damn thing.” he thinks, but then again, he’s a dumb hypocrite.

it’s already a pain to even get to the store. he could’ve ordered anything he wanted to online but this line of collectibles were in-store exclusive and it just happened to be in this store which was a relief. he really would’ve drove to a different city just for it—though, it was also dangerous if someone catches him. he could’ve asked anyone to buy for him too, even thought of todoroki to purchase for him but that man doesn’t have the same shame he would have if he gets seen. plus he didn’t like the idea of a dating rumor of you and todoroki if he’s seen with the merchandise.

he was only supposed to buy one figurine, but ends up buying a few more, pin buttons and one big plushie that he finds really cute of you. he chuckles to himself when it got that ‘same dumb smile’ you always have on your face—the one that causes his heart to skip a beat, even when he didn’t want it to.

this all started when midoriya found out about his little crush when katsuki got into an accident with a victim they saved. it was a big mission where several individuals in the area went missing, turns out a whole gang was using them for blackmail and ransom. every hero in the area, including you, were tracking every villain involved in this case.

a little girl in hostage activated her ‘truth quirk’ when she clung onto the blonde. midoriya was asking him what he’s thinking of—he meant what to do with the villains—instead, katsuki said, “i think y/n’s really pretty tonight.” and he slaps his mouth, he didn’t mean to say that.

apparently the kid’s quirk manages to bring out the deep inner thoughts of the person they used their ability on. “t-that’s n-nice kac- dynamight but i’m asking about the villain… hehe.”

the quirk lasted the whole night and he made sure to keep him mouth shut, having midoriya talk for him instead for their initial report. because when he answered another question from the green haired hero the only thing that ever left his mouth was about you. how he wished he was doing this mission with you instead, or about how many people you saved that night.

eventually midoriya gives him a TCG of you and while he wanted to act like he didn’t want it, it sent shivers down his spine thinking midoriya would have a photo of you, so he takes it (keeps it in his wallet too).

then he got even more invested when he saw collectors online, showing off their ‘rare y/n merchandise’ which got him seething too. he’s not gonna lose, not at all.

which brings him here.

he heads over to the counter with his head down. the staff notices the pink hue on the tips of his fingers and laughs (pissed katsuki real bad). “you like her too huh? i think she could definitely be a top 5 hero soon.” they say. katsuki doesn’t respond instead waits for his total and pays with his card. “fucking nerd shouldn’t talk about her at all.” he thinks. in fact, he thinks your ‘weird fans’ shouldn’t even breathe the same air as you. treating you like some idol, it’s fucking gross.

“have a great day sir!” he takes a breather when he gets out the store. a paper bag in one hand, and the plushie around his arm. he thinks he looks pathetic right now but it’s not like anyone would notice him if he gets home quick, right?

he walks fast but not too much to get him any unwanted attention. taking the same route home quietly and fast.

though he stops in his tracks before even exiting the alley, seeing todoroki waving to him. “you have y/n’s merch?”

katsuki takes off his mask, “mind your business half n’ half bastard.” and walks away flipping him off. it’s fine, it didn’t bother him too much if todoroki were to see anyway.

however, the icy-hot hero was just about to warn him what’s up ahead but it was too late, katsuki’s already gone.

he could’ve hit a perfect home run until he’s stopped on the sidewalk by someone he definitely didn’t want to see right now.

“katsuki?” he internally panics when he hears you. too in shock he looks up from the ground, flashing you his eyes. he blinks and immediately ignores you by walking away, tucking the plushie in his jacket. yet you follow him, already floating to his side with a curious smile. “just what is it with this area suddenly?” he’s mentally screaming right now.

you knew those pair of eyes anywhere no matter how much he tried to cover it. “you’re on patrol right now, huh?” he says with a low voice.

“yup with shou! did you see him? he went first before i did.” you chirp, “didn’t think i’d see you today with…” you look down to see a bag full of your own merch and your newest plushie’s head peeking out of his jacket, “me?”

katsuki’s face turns red. if it was even possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears since he’s been caught by the worst person—fate is really messing with him today. “i’m buying this for that dumb izuku!” he lies, hoping you’d buy it, but you could only giggle. “really? i don’t think you’d do that for him though?” katsuki curses under his breath.

“look kats i’m real flattered. could i take a picture of you like this?” you clap, floating around him.

“fuck off! don’t push your luck. besides, shouldn’t you be on fucking patrol?” he shakes his head and tries to loose you again, unfortunately for him, you’re quicker.

“mhm! you’re right.” you say, “but i only have a few minutes left before i switch shifts.” he’s not even looking at you. “besides i went extra early for today.” you take a quick glance at what’s inside the bag. “it’s a really good thing i did! real great!” you giggle. katsuki’s really flustered, hoping you’d just go away soon and you’d forget about this in an hour. to add more to his rapidly beating heart, you look so good in your hero costume. the fan in him wanted you to sign the toys he just got—well, as if he’d do that at all, he really planned to take this ‘secret’ to the grave (it’s okay to shoot your shot katsuki!)

he seemed lost in thought, and it was the perfect opportunity for you take your phone out and get a quick picture of him before you fly off. katsuki flinches when he hears the ‘click’ but you’re already so up high, laughing away and he’s screaming a string of curses at you.

he didn’t know who to blame, but he knew he fucked up even more when he gave you that stupid excuse. “what the fuck…” he says through his teeth, rubbing his temples with one hand as he walks back home.

katsuki never feels shame, but there’s always that stupid thing you do to him to feel things he’s never bothered to before—right now it’s embarrassment.

tomorrow was supposed to be his shift to patrol with you. he doesn’t even know how to face you after that. when he gets home he immediately sets it up and lays down on his couch.

after a few hours he gets a text from you. ‘i got one of yours after my shift!’ is what it read and it was a small chibi doll of him. you’re so adorable holding the mini version of him close to your face while you’re in your costume, he couldn’t help but save it.

he thinks, “wait, what does that mean?” does it mean you like him too? what’s even the point of you doing all that for his sake?

he then gets another message from you. a picture of him walking out the alley with a smile, clutching the plushie while todoroki’s looking from behind him. sometimes he really hates your flying abilities even when he thinks it’s the coolest.

“ha… you knew all this. well two can play that game.” as if he could even try to embarrass you after that.

oh whatever. he never loses, right?

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i feel like i keep embarrassing reader in front of kats so it’s payback time :p i didn’t mean for this to be so long omg. MINORS AND AGLESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW ME!

[luxurychristmaspudding]

summary: after a night out dancing and a lift home turns into something more, you learn something about your dad's buddy. joel miller fucks.

pairing: young!joel miller x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. it's smut, y'all. everything you've come to expect. respectable age gap (10 years ish), tiny bit of spanking, one (1) gentle pussy slap, lil bit of daddy kink, joel miller eats it from the back (oral (f&m)), edging, unprotected piv (do better), creampie, feelings, joel miller's whore mouth.

reader has hair and wears dresses, no other descriptions or name.

wc: 7.2k

an: for @schnarfer. my favourite hot priest, i worship in your church <3

Joel went out looking for trouble that night.

Hair curling at the nape of his neck, a beer sweltering in his hand as beads of sweat carved their way down the strong line of his back. T-shirt sticking to his skin, tension wound tight in his shoulders, thick in every muscle, every strand of sinew after work. 

Revelling in the feeling of how the weight of the day lifted the more he drank, the more he relaxed, feeling his smile get wider the more he loosened up in the crowded bar. Freshly thirty five, another year in hand. Tommy buying the shots, introducing him to every new face that walked into the steaming, heavy swell of wood and linoleum, every stranger who leant against the tacky bar, every pretty girl who flicked their hair and batted their eyelashes. 

He’s laughing - held flung back, chest heaving - harder than he has in a long time. Dancing in a way so unlike how he dances with Sarah in the kitchen, welcoming the heavy, slow grind of hips against his own, breathless against a sweet smelling neck. It’s hot and it’s loud on this Friday night in Austin, and he loves it.

Not quite basking in the attention of being the birthday boy, but shouldering the stream of conversation that Tommy directs his way nonetheless. Cheeks flushed pink as he’s hauled up on to the bar top, clumsy, unsure where to look as the bartender encourages him to stand in full view of the crowd. The whole bar, oscillating with colour and light and sound, roaring into a raucous chorus of happy birthday, beckoned by the chime of the bell by the till.

The spectacle of it all makes him look to the ceiling before dropping his chin to his chest, makes him laugh again, watching these people, many strangers, cheer and sing for him. 

He holds his beer to his chest through the first part of the song, cheeks tight with a smile. His eyes swivel to the corner of the dancefloor on the downturn of Joel… catching the flicker and flare of a pair he recognises, scanning your face on the refrain - happy birthday - heart dropping confusingly low in his chest, the world taking a sticky beat as his blood halts and begins to rush again - to you.

He’s not seen you here before. Much more used to seeing you coming and going from your father’s house - bright smile, wicked eyes. Moved back home after spending some time out west when you’d finished your Masters program, always happy to chat for a little longer if you were where he was. Interesting and interested - he’s been regaled by tales of you from your father - the man who’s been overseeing safety on Joel’s latest job site - and listened to more directly from you, lip caught between his teeth as he bit back amusement at the things you didn’t want your dad to know.

Your father is a good man. Kind, supportive. So proud of you in the way he talks that Joel’s taking blueprints for raising Sarah. And you - you. Joel tries to think of you in ways he thinks of other colleagues or acquaintances. Smart, creative, perceptive. Patient, generous with your time and energy when entertaining neighbours at cookouts. Any other thoughts creep in in the dead of night, and he’s quick to try and forget them by morning.

But this - you here, now - is entirely different. It could be the buzz of the tequila in his system, could be the hot blood in his veins, could be the giddy little flash of that smile you shoot him as you clap and whoop with the rest of the crowd, but his feet are itching to find you once he half hops, half clambers down off the bar, accepting claps on the back and other sentiments as he searches for you again.

But you’re gone.

Disappeared, into thin air. Like he imagined you in the first place.

He cranes his neck a little, twisting his head from side to side as if trying to loosen another tight muscle, trying to tamp down the damp disappointment he feels. 

Trying to remember how he tries to forget.

‘Happy birthday, cowboy,’ the words are breathless, squeezed through a smile.

The grin that creeps across his face is slow and wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he turns to face you.

‘Evenin’, darlin’,’ is his reply. Deep, coy, any idea of hiding his thoughts gone, buried. It’s his birthday, and you’re here. You and your sparkling eyes.

‘You gonna let me buy you a drink, or have you got a queue of ladies lining up to do that already?’

He laughs, and you feel the sound glimmer down your body, lighting every synapse, every receptor. You track his gaze as it drifts down your body and back up, spine straightening at his appraisal. 

Delicious thighs beneath the hem of your skirt, soft swell of your breasts above your neckline. 

‘Your daddy know you’re here?’ He asks, delighting in the way you scoff. 

‘My daddy knows I’m out tonight,’ you say, licking your teeth, eyes dropping to his mouth, ‘And he don’t care much about it. I’m a big girl, Joel. I can handle myself.’

They’re big words for someone around ten years his junior, but he doesn’t doubt it. He’s heard your bartending stories, about your debates with fratboys. Something about your confidence, your self-assuredness licks a tongue of flame up his back. He bites his cheek.

‘Best buy me that drink, then.’

He went looking for trouble that night. 

And Jesus, he found it. 

Found it on the dancefloor, your soft body grinding against his. The heat and the sweat, how you moved your hips with his, how you’d giggled when he’d turned you around, pulling you flush against him. Your hands grasping for him, clutching at his thigh as you pressed firmly against the bulge growing at your backside, head tipped back, bliss etched across your face as you felt each other.

Found it in his truck when he dragged you outside under the pretence of giving you a lift home, found it when he rucked your skirt up on the backseat, when he pulled the top of your dress down. Inches of skin he had banished fantasies about to the back of his mind, revealed to him in the dim light of the parking lot. The sweat gleaming on your sternum, shining on your clavicles, your neck. He wishes, now, that he had taken more time to tell you how beautiful you looked, how smart you are, how funny, that first time, but the two of you had been too caught up in seeing, feeling, as much as possible. 

His knees had protested as he crammed himself onto the floor, wanting to be between those thighs, wanting to taste you. Pressing, gliding his fingers against your pussy over your underwear, watching you keen and beg, hands twisting tight in the material of your dress, then his shirt collar, then his hair. 

And that first swipe of his tongue when he’d pulled your underwear to the side, that first, most base knowledge of you. The sweet and sour, your smell, the way you became pliant, willing to have your thighs pushed up towards your chest. Quickly obsessed with the way you looked down at him, jaw slack, pupils blown, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Quickly obsessed with the way your pussy looked, puffy, needy, the way it leaked and clenched before him as he leant back to spit on it, how your head hit the headrest with a soft thump.

Too obsessed, everything about that night feeling too good as he lowered you down onto him, as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder to stop himself from coming too early, watching you bounce on his cock, listening to the way you moaned and panted and whimpered his name. The wet sounds of you fucking, the way he held you still, big hands on your waist as he bucked up into you. The way your noises, your breathing stuttered as he thrusted harder, as he dropped you lower. The fogged windows, low bass from the bar, how you clenched and fluttered around him as he wrung two orgasms from your pretty body before spilling himself inside you.

He’s been finding trouble ever since.

Finding reasons to help you grab drinks, bring out nibbles at your dad’s Halloween party. Finding excuses to have you backed up against the tool bench in the garage instead, his hips between yours, soft lips against chapped or your hand tight against your mouth to make sure nobody would find you. Heading back out into the garden with his cock still swollen, tucked into his black slacks, feeling your slick around its base still, your fake blood smeared on his dog collar, watching as you pressed your thighs together in your seat, knowing you could still feel him trickling out of you. He could hear your teasing through the glint in your eye - some priest you are, father.

Driving you home from the bar after a night of dancing around each other, after glances were snuck whenever they could be - over his brother’s shoulder, between your friends’ laughter. The crackle of electricity in the truck cab as the warm air threaded itself between you, your sparkling eyes, devious little laugh. 

Walking you to your door, keeping you safe, don't wanna disappoint your old man. 

Jamming his foot between the wood and the frame to come in when you told him he wasn’t home. 

The mornings when Sarah’s waking up, still sugar-high after a sleepover, in a house the other side of town. The mornings he’s awake first, drinking coffee at his kitchen table when you hop down the stairs in his t-shirt from the night before, sleep-stained and perfect. The mornings that start with you in his lap, with kisses pressed to temples, lips, necks, his wide palms snaking under the material, fiending warm skin, finding it, cradling it. The firm weight of your breasts in his palms, the pebbling of your nipples beneath his thumbs. The soft rock of your hips against his hardening length, his fingers reaching to pull your panties to the side, finding you soaked like that first night. How you whine and huff against his shoulder as he sinks one, two, three digits into you, as he twists them, pumps them, as he uses his thumb to toy with your clit. The wet patch you leave, darkening the grey tenting below you, the outline of him something you want to press your face against, nuzzle, mouth at until he’s begging this time. 

Mornings when he takes you apart deftly, until you hover above him, pulling his hard, leaking cock over the top of his sweatpants, savouring that delicious stretch around him, the way he thickens out at the base, the way the wiry hair there catches on your clit. When you can enjoy the way he holds you there afterwards, talking about your days ahead, nibbling at your ear as his cum slips from you along with his softening cock. 

All these moments, and they’re never enough.

Because despite how often they happen, how often he might be able to hold you, kiss you - you make Joel Miller feel like a fucking teenager. 

It’s been years since he’s woken up to the cooling evidence of a wet dream in his boxers. He’s having them nightly now in his thirties; sick and tired of waking up wet and aching and sticky, sick and tired of wishing it was you, not his hand, helping to solve the problem.

He wants you here so much more often than he does. The tip of his tongue on the evenings you call, sunlight fading through the window, orange on his sheets. He wonders, as you talk, what it would look like painted onto your skin. 

He wants Sarah to actually know how he feels about the woman who babysits her every so often, wants Tommy to understand the reason why he turns up smiling to the site every day. And he wants your father to know his daughter has found someone who’ll treat her right, who’ll hold her hand through the bad days and give her all he can to make her smile.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wonders whether you have, too. 

Whether you’d confess to your father the crush you have on the contractor, ask if he could put in a good word for you. There isn’t much between you - it would only take some careful wording, an evening where he can present the flowers he’s been dying to give you at your door.

He’s sure your father wouldn’t mind.

But this secret, the sneaking around - he can’t deny the thrill of it. Stolen touches, kisses, whispers in the moonlight. Quiet jokes between the two of you, the looks exchanged around others, the show of you putting your hand on his shoulder - can I get you anything else, Mr Miller?

You’ve only come close to being found out once. Just the once. By Tommy - who else could it have been? 

Tommy, who couldn't hide his delight when he found the underwear you’d left behind in Joel's truck one morning, wheezing with laughter as Joel stuffed your soft, cotton panties into his back pocket. His cheeks aflame, he swore under his breath that he’d kill his little brother if he ever flicked a woman’s underwear at him like that again instead of doing the right thing - kicking them under the seat and pretending he hadn’t seen anything. 

Between gasping breaths, Tommy had managed to make a good point. At least it wasn't Sarah who’d found them.

You gonna tell me who the lucky lady is, big brother?

He didn’t. Not yet.

It’s been so unbearably hot all day.

Too hot to work in the open air, and though Joel’s not grateful for the heat, he is grateful for the chance to stay at home. A chance to catch up on chores while Sarah basks in the AC at school, a chance to work his way through bills and invoices, fighting to keep his head clear of any thought of you and what you might be up to in weather like this.

He keeps his eyes carefully trained on numbers, figures, dates, unaware of the clock, unaware of the calls he’s missing. Only catches himself daydreaming when the lines start to blur.

He makes it to just past lunchtime when he hears a car pull up in the driveway. He knows the rattle of that engine, the heave of noise it makes as it turns off.

He stands from the table, blood racing in his chest.

‘God- motherfuckin’ shit,'

Joel lets the front door hang open behind him, folding his arms across his heart as you try and jam your wing mirror back in place.

‘You kiss your grandma with that mouth?’

You grin, flipping him off as you slam the door closed. The mirror sticks.

‘Yeah. Suck your dick with it, too,’

His lips quirk, watching as you stand with your hip against the front of your car, a box in one hand, the other shielding your eyes from the sun. Staring at each other, a little game you play. You watch his smirk grow, feeling the trickle of sweat down your spine.

‘There a reason why you’re here?’

You roll your eyes, like it should be obvious. And it is obvious, but -

‘Freezer’s fucked,’ you huff, and Joel raises an eyebrow. ‘Can I put them in yours?’

You hold the box up to him.

‘Popsicles?’ Joel frowns. You roll your eyes at him.

‘Please, Joel. They’re literally the only thing keeping me sane,’

He scratches at his jaw, pretending to contemplate.

‘I dunno, darlin’,’ he says, ‘The only thing? Surely that AC of yours is doin’ a fine job,'

You scoff at him, folding your own arms. 

‘That old piece a’ shit ain’t doin’ nothin’ and you know it,’

He chuckles, letting his arms drift to his sides.

‘Guess I can take care of ‘em for ya. Anythin’ else?’

You bite your lip, eyes glinting in the sun.

‘Can I come in?’ you ask. A slow, smug smile grows across Joel’s lips.

‘'N do what, exactly?’

You pout at him, fluttering your eyelashes. His cock twitches.

‘Just wanna swim in the pool. Promise I won’t do nothin’ else, Mr Miller,’

‘Nothin’ else, baby?’ He says, lowly.

You shake your head, eyes wide. Picture of false innocence.

‘Nothin’ else,'

If there are two things Joel has come to know about you in the last year, it’s that you’re a great fuck, and a bad liar.

He steps back into the open door behind him, grinning as you skip past him into the hallway. He watches, snicking the catch and lock as you make your way into the kitchen, swinging open the refrigerator door, finding a spot for your iced treats. He follows, leaning against the doorframe, watching as you stand in the cold air flowing from the appliance for a moment, your eyes closed.

He’s looking at your legs when you turn to speak to him, snapping to meet your gaze as though he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. That ship sailed long ago. You grin at him.

‘Whatcha been doin’?’

He exhales, stepping closer.

‘Workin’,’

You hum, meeting him beside the kitchen table, surveying the stacks of paper.

‘Not too hard?’

‘Hard to, when I'm thinkin’ ‘bout you,’

You grin, twisting to look at him.

‘You sweet on me, Miller?’

He shrugs.

‘Bout time you noticed,’

His hands find your waist as yours make their way up his chest, his shoulders, winding around his neck.

‘I had my suspicions,’ you whisper, before pressing your lips to his. He smiles into it, parting his lips to invite you in, rocking you back and forth in his arms.

‘Missed you,’ you breathe, and he hums in response.

‘Missed you too, baby,’

You’re salty sweet; warm scent of your skin, your sun lotion, your perfume, your sweat. When he’s satisfied, done licking lazily into your mouth, exploring the taste of your lips, he moves to your neck. Laving kisses there, biting, sucking, nibbling as you sigh against him. He bites harder, earning a particularly needy whimper, hands moving to knead the flesh of your ass through your dress.

‘Joel,’ you murmur, ‘You’ll leave a mark,’

He hums, trailing kisses up your neck to the space behind your ear, along your jaw, before finally meeting your lips again.

‘Don’t care.’

He’s grasping your hips to turn you so you’re pressed against the table, your back to his firm chest. You can’t help the gasp, the giggle that floats from you as he tugs you closer, as you feel the heft of him pressed into the small of your back. You shift your hips, brushing against him, slow and purposeful.

Joel groans - a long, drawn out, hungry sound. He pulls your hips tighter to him, moving against you just the same before his hands slide up to your breasts, holding the weight of each in his palms, squeezing and rolling a nipple between his thumb and finger. You tip your head back against his shoulder, and he hums approvingly as you begin to grind against him in earnest. He pauses only for a moment to pull your straps from your shoulders and work your dress down to expose your tits, and then he’s on you again. Teasing and stroking and pinching, your hand gripping his forearms as you huff and whimper, caged between him and the table. You moan his name, bleeding every once of want you feel into it, hoping he can hear just by the sound of your voice how wet you are for him.  

‘Dreamt about ya last night,’ he rasps in your ear, and you flash him a dazzling, breathless smile.

‘Oh yeah? ‘N what’d ya dream about, cowboy?’

You whine as he crowds you, leaning down to suck another bruise into the junction between your neck and shoulders, whiskers bristling against your skin, hands hot and heavy everywhere they can find purchase.

‘Much rather show you,’ he rumbles.

You nip your bottom lip between your teeth, shooting him a wicked look over your shoulder. His eyes crinkle, and as he spins you to face him again, he moves to pinch your jaw, just rough enough to curb your inevitable wise ass response. He watches as your eyes glaze a little, soft slump of your shoulders as he gives your head a little shake. His cock is achingly hard.

‘Upstairs. Now,’

As soon as he backs away from you, you’re sprinting towards the stairs with a shriek. Joel is close behind, and you can feel the heat of him, enough to set your heart galloping in your chest. Something primal urging space between you, something base wishing there was none.

You clatter through his bedroom door, whirling to face him - bare chest heaving, lips curled. He pauses in the doorway - so tall and broad, so imposing - shoulders straining against his t-shirt, curls frayed from your hands. He steps in, swings the door shut behind him, and then he’s closing the space easily - one, two, three - gathering you in his arms until you’re on tiptoes, pawing at the flesh of your ass through your sundress. Obsessed with it. You on him, him on you.

He needs this like air.

His breath is hot against your lips, mouth needy and wet as you open yourself to him. He licks into your mouth, kissing you like it’s something you need to take from him, like there’s something you need to understand through the action alone. He fiddles with the flimsy material of your half-removed sundress, pulling at it a little.

‘Take this off,’ he growls, nipping at your lips. 

You step back from him as you push it past your hips, the fabric pooling to the floor in seconds, leaving you in your panties. He bites his lip, murmuring a fuck before stripping himself of his t-shirt. Glorious tan chest, slightly lighter than his strong arms, shoulders seeming even broader, smattering of hair that leads down past his navel, his smooth belly, the constellations of freckles that join beneath your fingertips.

You busy your fingers with his belt as he cups your face once more, pressing kisses to your hairline, your forehead, your cheekbones. You’re giggling, trying to see what you’re doing through the blur of his face and hands, but then his palms are moving lower, groping at your breasts again, swiping his thumbs against your taught nipples, groaning against your mouth as you dip your hand past his unfastened belt and fly, into his boxers to cup his silken skin.

‘How’d that dream go again?’

Joel smiles against your mouth, giving a harsh twist to each peaked bud before beginning to push his jeans further down.

‘Kneel,’ he commands.

You drop to your knees in one swift motion, biting your lip at him as he whips his belt from its loops and throws it to the corner of the room. Your eager fingers curl under the waistband of his jeans, inching them and his underwear down. 

‘Don’t know how you’re wearing jeans in this weather -’

‘Cos I knew you’d be here some point to take ‘em off me,’

You smirk, blinking up at him through your eyelashes.

‘Who, me? I don’t know what kind of girl you take me for, daddy, but…’ You’re chewing your cheek to try and temper your look of amusement, but Joel gives in immediately. Goofy smile, all teeth, eyes crinkling at the edges. He cups your jaw as you wrap your hand around his base, pulling him out of his underwear, soft black material barely holding him in. 

His body moves with the first pump of your tight fist, the swirl of your thumb when you reach the head, spreading the pearl of precum beading there as he hisses. Thick and pulsing in your hand, velvety smooth, you trace its lines, veins with a delicate finger, press a kiss to his tip. Joel’s nostrils flare.

‘So pretty,’ you murmur, and that smirk tugs at his lips again.

‘I say you could touch it?’

You roll your eyes, quirking your head at him.

‘Didn’t think you had to,’ you shrug, ‘Kinda comes with the territory of tellin’ me to get on my knees -’

He scoffs.

‘Alright, smart ass,’ tangling his fingers in your hair, ‘Make me proud.’

You smile broadly, before inching closer, moving your mouth with your hand to chase down his length. You always know how to shut him up, and right now, the sight, the sound, the feel of you taking him all on the first try makes him fucking dizzy.

Hot and wet, the ridges of the roof of your mouth like satin around his cock, jumping as it hits the back of your throat and further, twitching again as you hum around him, opening your eyes - doe-like, watering already, the pinch in your brows telling him what you need to hear.

‘Good girl,’ he groans, ‘Good fucking girl,’

It’s the encouragement you need, moaning again as you pull back to the tip, taking him back in again as you bring one hand up to scratch at his thigh, the other moving from his length to his balls, cupping them softly, squeezing, rolling, and he’s on fucking fire. If there was ever a chance he was going to hell before, he’s sure the way you make him feel will send him there regardless.

You’re taking it slow, steady, making him feel every inch of your mouth as you moan and breathe, so intense that he can feel his tip heating - a kind of overstimulation - as he lets little moans slip more freely from his lips. Sighs and mutterings, breathless praise, wrecked groans as you start to move faster, jaw falling open. A steady stream of salt on your tongue, the taste making you keen for him, press your nose to the skin above his cock, making you forget anything outside the taste of him in your mouth. The hand on his thigh moving to work his length as you pay special attention to his head, your hips bucking unconsciously. His stomach jumps, lungs heaving as he massages your crown, as you kitten lick and swirl your tongue down the vein on the underside, rewarded with a sharp, wanton gasp as you pull back to slap him against your tongue. 

You watch as his pink tip flushes a darker shade, as it dribbles even more, feeling him jerk in your hand. Spellbound, slack-jawed at the way you take him, at the way you want him, like the taste and the pressure is never enough. How you always need more, more, more, and he’s getting closer, closer, closer -

He pulls you off with a deep, guttural groan - missing your mouth the minute it’s gone, resisting the temptation to shove himself back past your lips and come down your throat. 

You gaze up at him, pouting, straining against the hand in your hair. 

‘What? Didn’t I make you proud, cowboy?’

He tightens his grip, tips your head further to meet his gaze.

‘Bed,’ he commands, relinquishing his hold, ridding himself of his remaining clothes as you do yours, clambering up onto his bed, settling yourself on your knees again, wiggling side to side, your wide eyes rapt, wired. Chin wet, chest heaving, fingers twitching in your lap, he makes his decision almost instantly. Steps forwards, fingers brushing against the inside of your knee. Your legs part automatically, and he follows the contour of soft skin in the inside of your thighs right to the very top, no grace in the way he swipes his fingers through your folds, collecting the wetness there. And there’s so much of it, so much you feel proud of the way his eyes darken when he feels it.

‘What’s this, baby?’ He coos, repeating the motion as you whimper, as your shoulders hunch and your chin tips down. He lifts it with a finger and thumb, before cupping your face. You nuzzle into the touch, eyes hungry. ‘Oh, pretty girl,’ he murmurs, smiling again, ‘This happen while you were down on your knees sucking daddy’s cock?’

You snort softly, forehead knocking against his as he crowds closer.

‘Fucker-’ you start, but it’s cut off by your gasp as he easily slips in two thick fingers. He tuts.

‘Try again,’

‘Yes,’ you whisper, ‘Fuck yes, it did,’

He kisses your nose, pumping the digits slowly.

‘Gonna have to do something about that then, aren’t we?’

‘Please,’ you breathe, and he removes his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with another groan, tasting you - fuck. 

‘Hands and knees, baby,’ he says roughly, and you obey.

He pushes you forward so your chest is pressed into the sheets, nipples catching on the fabric, sweat soaking, cooling against the bed. Your breath catches in your throat - good girl, like this - and he’s pulling your hips up towards him, gripping the flesh at the backs of your thighs to spread you. Your knees slide, pliant with the need that scorches through you, and you press your cheek into the duvet, trying to angle your head so you can watch him watching you. 

And fuck, is he watching you. Eyes blown, lips bitten, a depraved intensity settling in the way his jaw flexes. You bunch your hands into fists on the cotton, shuddering as his palms run over your curves - hips, waist, hips, ass, thighs - before they stop, parting you for him again. You can’t help the way you present yourself to him, the way your hips tilt when air meets your bare cunt.

‘Atta girl,’ he mumbles, ‘Look at all that. You makin’ a mess f’me, baby? This pretty little pussy achin’ for what I wanna give her?’

You muffle your response, so fucking desperate, against his sheets, clutching the material tighter. He swipes both his thumbs through your folds, tracing the seam of your cunt, spreading the slick there to shine against your skin, teasing one digit at the entrance of your hole, the other inching its way - agonisingly - towards your clit. You throb, and he watches a bead of slick dribble down your folds, grinding himself against the bed as his cock jumps.

‘Is she, baby?’

You gasp, turning your head to him again. His eyes meet yours, dark, burning.

‘Yes,’ you half-moan, half-sob.

He hums in response, before turning back to your spread cunt. The thumb making its way towards your clit disappears, and you scrunch your brows together in disapproval, mouth working around a strangled please- before the sensation is replaced by his warm breath, then his firm tongue as he licks you from your clit to your hole. 

The cry that forces its way past your lips is strangled, choked, stuck in your throat as you clench around nothing at the contact.

‘Oh, fuck -’

And he chuckles against you, at the way your legs almost give out, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs in an effort to hold you upright. You squeeze your eyes closed as he licks further - Joel, fuck - seeking your clit again, pulling it between his lips, dragging his face against you, like he needs it, like he can’t be apart from you.

He sucks a little harsher, and at the very same time, you feel the tip of his nose edge against your cunt. You moan, a fractured sound, and he pulls you towards him again, pressing the curve of it further inside, moving his tongue in circles. You’re seeing fucking stars.

Breath shuddering out of you in high pitched gasps, toes curling against the pressure that builds so quickly already in your gut, unable to move, to find any relief as he mouths at you - ravenous, cramming his face, his fucking nose, as far into you as he can, slurping and sucking, letting his teeth graze you gently when you try to protest - too much, close Joel, ‘m close, fuck -

He pulls back just as suddenly as he came near, swatting your ass quickly, once, twice, before leaning back in. You barely have time to register the sting, how it flares goosebumps up your back, what it means, drunk on the feel of his mouth on you. He begins the same onslaught, sucking, licking, groaning at your taste before the knot tightens again.

‘Yes, please, Joel, please -’

But he’s gone again, that same firm hand landing on your backside as he pushes himself up, loosening his arms from their vice grip on your thighs. 

‘Not yet,’ he rasps, ‘Not yet, gonna come on my cock, yeah? Get it nice and wet, show me how much you like it?’

You rock your forehead against his mattress, waves of pleasure rolling through you, cunt fluttering, still so exposed to him. You take too long to answer, moaning loudly as he taps his palm against your soaked folds. You jolt, hips moving instinctively, finding nothing. You shudder a breath.

‘Yes, wanna come on your cock, I need it daddy. Need you inside me, need you to fuck me, need to come, Joel, please -’

He pulls you by the hips to the edge of the bed again, one palm kneading the flesh there, the other sliding three fingers through your arousal, bringing the wetness to his cock, slicking himself up. You raise yourself up on your elbows, looking back at him, and Joel's heart almost gives out. That perfect little pout, the sweat dripping down your forehead, the bead of it that travels down the valley of your spine, shining against your skin. Every inch of you so perfect, glossy in the heat, his. The patch he loves so much at the bottom of your back, just before the swell of your ass, even better, impossibly, from this angle. 

He holds you still with the grip on your hip as he nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, and your breath stills in your lungs. That first press, the pressure, the beginning of the stretch, the way you contract around the promise of it, waiting, waiting -

Waiting.

Joel smiles, though you can’t see it. His body pulled taught, barely resisting the urge to push himself further into you. 

‘Go on, pretty girl,’ he says, ‘Wanna see you fuck yourself on it. Show me how bad you need it,’

You hear his breath catch the moment you begin to slide down, and then the room is silent, save for the buzzing of his fans and the sticky sound of you pulling him inside. When you reach his base, nestling against the hair there, you both let out an honest, drawn out groan of relief. You’re so full of him, the stretch welcome, pressing against a sweet spot deep inside you, just enough to leave you breathless. You can feel him pulse in time with your heartbeat, feel yourself grow wetter, begin to drip down your thighs as you breathe heavily, as his grip grows firmer, as his fingers slide to the crease between your thighs and your stomach.

‘Move, baby,’ he pleads, sounding just as wrecked as you feel.

So you do. Slow, methodical, so you can feel all of him. Every inch, every vein that makes you clench around him, that makes him groan low in his throat. You know he wants it faster, that this time he wants more, but you’re too busy indulging yourself, focused on the drag of him against your walls, showing him how he takes care of you, making sure he watches how he fills you, how well you take him. 

When the pressure begins to grow, when he coos at you a little more, you move with more force, fucking yourself back, your noises coming louder, higher pitched, while his grow lower, as he babbles to you more and more. 

‘Fuck, look at you, baby. Look at you. Take me so good, take me so deep. Perfect pussy, made f’me, ain’t she? So pretty baby, so pretty the way you stretch, feel so good, so good, darlin’, fuck -’

He’s almost too caught up in the way your ass recoils against his thighs, the way your pussy moulds itself to him, that he misses the tell tale signs of you about to come. The way you gasp, the way you tighten and throb, the way you fist the sheets around you, the way your body begins to lock up -

‘No. Not yet,’ he grits out, pulling his hips back, pulse pounding in his ears as he watches your body try to chase his before he grips you again, turning you onto your back.

You’re sobbing around your plea - please Joel, been so good, just wanna come around you, please baby - but he’s steadfast.

He wants to see your face when you let go. Wants to watch your eyes roll, wants to watch you arch, wants to see the way your stomach lurches -

You scrabble for him, slurring your words, so fucked out - please Joel please, please baby, god, I just need - as he arranges your legs so your knees are bent, so your pretty little pussy is exposed completely to him - need you, please fuck me - before he swipes his thumb against your clit again, just to hear your broken whine, the hiccuped sigh, the way your body twitches, so close.

He pauses, holds your thighs wide open before him, towering above you. You reach to skate a hand up his tan belly, fingers scraping through the hair there, the muscled lines leading down to his cock, enjoying the thrum of his heart beating through his skin before he knocks it aside, pursing his lips and spitting straight onto where you are connected.

It turns you half-feral, rearing up towards him as he speaks.

‘There we go, baby. This what we need,’

The first thrust in takes your breath away. 

And he doesn’t give you any chance to get it back.

He sets a punishing pace, feeding you his cock with dogged precision, consumed by how you look spread beneath him, with how puffy and slick and shiny your pussy is, how it splits around him. 

Thick heft of him sawing in and out, the way you clutch at him, sucking him back in, tighter and tighter each time, like your body is already missing him. So wet slick is smeared around your thighs, soaking Joel’s lap, leaking down into the cleft of your ass. He kisses you, slow and deep, gasping and panting against your lips. Guttural moans from him, needy little whimpers from you, the sloppy sound of pleasure. 

He breaks away from you when the kisses are splintered by gasps of air, fixing his mouth to your neck, inhaling deeply there, pressing his lips to your shoulder, lower, the top of your breast, your sternum, before closing them around your nipple. You keen as he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive bud, hands flying from his flexing forearms to his hair, scratching his scalp, moaning his name, chanting it - Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel.

He sucks harder, tongue working around the flesh before he does the same to your other breast, fingers slipping down over the damp skin of your belly towards your sex, seeking that last nudge you need to send you flying over the edge.

Tighter, wetter, arching to meet his mouth as you gasp and plead - gonna come Joel, gonna come, please can I come, please, please -

You barely register his nod against your chest, barely hear him gasp ‘Give it to me baby, good girl, that’s it,’ before the flood overwhelms you, clawing through your body, ripping through you like flame. Your body tenses, jerks, hips stuttering against him, pussy throbbing as you cry out, pleasure flushing through you all the way to the top of your head. Aftershocks flare like fireworks behind your eyelids, hips moving frantically with his to chase the very end of your orgasm.

Joel watches, chest hot, stomach tightening with that tell tale taughtness - oh, shit baby, yeah, s'that good? - before his own eyes squeeze shut, his body faltering, pushing all the way up against your cervix as he pulses inside you, filling you with warmth, spilling himself until it begins to leak between your thighs.

He gives a couple of softer thrusts before he groans again, hearing you whimper, ears ringing, pulling out just to watch himself drip out of you. The sight makes him greedy, makes him press it back into you even as you hiss in protest, too sensitive. He looks up just as you crack an eye open, an arm swinging across your forehead.

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ you mumble, a smile growing before he breathes a shy laugh at the ceiling. He loves the sound of your giggle as you watch him.

He crawls back up your body, ignoring how the heat begins to creep back in, become formidable again. He presses kisses to your collarbones, your neck, your cheeks, and you thread your spare hand back through his hair, enjoying the way it looks, mussed by you.

His sweaty forehead presses against your sternum, laving affectionate, wet kisses there as you come down from your highs, panting in the warm air of the room. 

You continue to card your fingers through his damp curls, staring up at the ceiling fan as it whirs and spins above you. Your eyes flutter closed, content.

‘You’ll have to get Sarah from school soon,’

He grunts in acknowledgement, nuzzling into your ribcage, licking at the salty skin before nipping it between his teeth. You giggle, body lurching away slightly before it’s fixed in place by his wide palms at your hips. ‘And I have to be home before four,’

He groans, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast.

‘Come over for dinner,’ he murmurs, ‘Tell your dad we're hangin’ out, gettin’ to know each other. I’ll grill some stuff. You bring some more of those popsicles,’ 

You snort at him, huffing something about how nothing will get grilled if you’re watchin’ me suck on a popsicle, even as your chest and cheeks heat, before he slumps on top of you, plush lips crushing against yours in a searing kiss, tongue licking into your mouth, setting you ablaze again beneath him. You moan as he moves to your neck, sucking and biting and bruising.

‘Come,’ he groans into your skin, ‘Promise you’ll come. I'll make it worth your while,’

You offer him a breathy laugh, a sure at the double entendre with sparkling eyes. Your back arches, hands gripping his biceps as he languidly moves lower, taking your nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the raw bud, grazing it with his teeth before sucking gently.

‘Joel -’ you gasp, clenching your thighs together as you wriggle beneath him, meeting his warm brown eyes as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. ‘We need to -’

He cuts you off with a sharp nip at the puckered flesh. He turns his head to the side, checks the watch he’s still wearing, and fixes you with a dark, hungry look.

‘Reckon there’s time to go again.’

[aerialmirrorss]

𝐬 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐦 𝐨 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨 𝐧 ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ zach maclaren

playing: 𝟏𝟖 by one direction 𝜗𝜚˚｡˚ ⋆

synopsis! every winter break, you and your childhood best friend zach’s families plan the annual trip to your family’s cabin in the mountains. but when an accident happens, a guilt-ridden zach is willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.

paring: zach maclaren x fem!reader

warnings: childhood friends to lovers , zach accidentally hurts reader , mentions of bruising , angst , lots of fluff (zach is so hopelessly in love with you it hurts) , sexual content + unprotected sex! , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)

word count: 8.2k

notes: today’s post is a long one but bear w me pls i had to edit so much of it :(

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“can you grab the spare?” zach calls from the back of the range rover, tugging the luggage out of the trunk.

stepping out of the car, the icy air hits your face like a slap, the sudden chill turning your nose pink and making your cheeks tingle.

“fuck, it’s freezing,” you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to the pile of rocks near the cabin door. your fingers, already stiff and trembling from the cold, fumble as you dig through the stones, searching for the fake rock with the hidden spare key.

finally, you find it and unlock the door. you and zach waste no time rushing inside, flipping on the furnace and switching on the electric fireplace. warm air begins to spill into the room, cutting through the biting chill.

“jesus, it’s brutal out there,” zach says with a laugh, dropping the suitcases by the front door.

“i know,” you reply, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “i don’t get how our parents do it when they get here first.”

your gaze sweeps over the cabin, familiar and cozy even in its current state of disarray. a small smile creeps onto your face as memories flood back. by the time your family usually arrives, the maclarens have already set everything up—lights twinkling, garlands hung, the whole place transformed for the holidays.

but not this year. this year, you and zach got here first. being in college has made it easier for the two of you to make the trip, especially since it’s only a short drive from campus. with your parents tied up at work, they won’t arrive for another two days, leaving you and zach to settle in and prepare the cabin yourselves

zach seems to read your mind as he heads toward the storage closet under the staircase. “the moms mentioned something about the decorations being in here,” he says, pulling open the door.

he starts rummaging through the piles, expecting to find boxes labeled xmas. instead, his hand lands on a stack labeled snowboarding gear. a small smile tugs at his lips.

“guess the decorations can wait,” he says, pulling out the boxes. turning to you, he raises an eyebrow, and you meet his look with a knowing nod. “get dressed.”

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you glide across the flat, powdery snow after hopping off the ski lift. the cold air nips at your cheeks, leaving them rosy and warm beneath your baby pink goggles. when you finally stop at the edge of the slope, you tug the goggles up onto your helmet, panting softly as mist forms in the cold air.

zach approaches behind you, stopping at your side. you look up at him, your eyes bright with excitement. “hi,” you say, your breath still catching from the climb.

“hey,” he replies, chuckling softly, his voice warm and steady. he feels something tighten in his chest—your voice, your smile, the way you look at him. if only you knew how effortlessly you could bring him to his knees.

but he would never say it. not to you. not when it could risk the friendship you’ve built over years.

you’ve been inseparable since second grade, when zach worked up the courage to ask for your help mastering the monkey bars. you were the only one who could make it all the way across without falling, and he’d admired you ever since. now, here you are—still together, still tangled in a friendship that means everything, even if it sometimes feels like it could be so much more.

zach isn’t sure when his feelings for you started to shift, turning into something he couldn’t quite name but couldn’t ignore either. maybe it was that afternoon when he was twelve, bedridden with a nasty cold, and you showed up unannounced with a thermos of homemade chicken soup. the soup had been borderline inedible—too salty, with mushy noodles—but the gesture had warmed him in a way he’d never forget. of course, he’d eaten every last bite and told you it was perfect.

or maybe it was on his fifteenth birthday. he’d always treated his birthday like any other day, never one to make a big deal of it, but you didn’t see it that way. while he was out, you snuck into his room and filled it with many presents and blue and black balloons—his favorite colors. he’d walked in, startled by the effort you’d put in just to make him smile, and something about it stuck with him.

or maybe it was the night he ended things with his first long-term girlfriend at seventeen. her problem had been you—the closeness you and zach shared, the bond she couldn’t understand. she’d wanted him to choose, and it wasn’t even a question. when you found out, you didn’t say “i told you so” or press him for details. instead, you showed up with a bag of junk food and a stack of movies. you stayed the whole weekend, laughing, crying over sappy scenes, and talking until the early hours of the morning about your dreams and futures.

in every timeline, in every version of his life, zach knows he’d choose you. over a girlfriend, over a best friend, over anyone.

a soft click pulls zach from his thoughts. glancing down, he sees you already strapped to your snowboard, your goggles perched perfectly on your face. you reach up, offering your hand for help. with barely any effort, zach pulls you to your feet, earning a giggle that tugs at his chest more than he cares to admit.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of this view,” you say softly, taking in the snow-draped mountains and the endless horizon of white and blue.

zach crouches down, fumbling slightly as he straps himself into his board. his fingers falter when he glances up at you. the way your smile glows as you take in the scenery—it’s more breathtaking to him than the view itself.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quiet. “me either.”

you turn to him with a playful glint in your eye. “race you down?”

zach chuckles, shaking his head as he secures his last buckle. “no.”

you blink at him, brows furrowing. “why not?”

“because,” he says, standing and stretching, a smug grin tugging at his lips, “i’ll smoke you so fast it’ll almost be sad.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes at the playful jab, but the spark of competition ignites instantly. zach knows you well enough to see it too. before he can say another word, you tug your goggles down, lean forward, and launch yourself down the slope, your speed kicking up a flurry of snow in your wake.

“cheater!” zach yells after you, his voice echoing through the mountain air.

your laughter rings out, light and carefree, as you pull your face cover up to shield yourself from the biting cold. with a determined grin, zach pulls down his goggles and takes off after you, the race already on.

the descent starts smoothly, the rush of cold air whipping past your face as you carve through the snow, the thrill of the slope igniting your competitive streak. you glance over your shoulder, spotting zach gaining on you. he’s fast—faster than you expected—and his determined grin sends a surge of adrenaline through you.

you try to pick up speed, leaning into the next turn, but your edge catches an icy patch. it happens so quickly—a sharp jolt, your balance slipping, and suddenly, you’re tumbling. the world tilts, snow sprays into the air, and before you can even react, you collide with something solid.

or rather, someone.

zach.

the two of you go down in a tangled heap, his snowboard slicing awkwardly into the snow as he tries (and fails) to stop in time. his arms instinctively wrap around you as you both slide a few more feet before finally coming to a stop in a soft bank of powder.

for a moment, everything is still.

you blink up at him, stunned and breathless, your goggles slightly askew. zach’s face hovers inches above yours, his cheeks flushed—not just from the cold.

“you good?” he asks, his voice laced with concern, though his lips twitch into a small smile.

you can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the moment catching up to you. “yeah… i think so. you?”

he nods, chuckling now too. “well, i wasn’t planning on eating snow, but at least i cushioned your fall.”

you roll your eyes, shoving at his chest lightly as he helps you sit up. “cushioned my fall? you practically tackled me.”

“only because you fell first,” he counters, his grin widening.

despite the snow seeping into your clothes and the ache of your tumble, you find yourself laughing again. zach stands, brushing snow off himself before offering you his hand. as he pulls you up, you notice his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual, his smile softer now.

just as the rush of laughter and adrenaline starts to fade, a sharp, sudden pain slices through your side, stealing the breath from your lungs. you gasp, instinctively clutching your side. “ouch.”

zach’s smile vanishes, his brows knitting together in concern. “what? what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i—” another sharp pang makes you wince, doubling over slightly as you shuffle off to the side of the slope, out of the way of other snowboarders. your hands fumble to tug off your gloves, urgency overriding the cold.

you shove the gloves into zach’s hands without a word and begin unzipping your snow jacket, pulling up your thermal layer to investigate. you crane your neck to look, but the angle makes it impossible to see what’s wrong. the pain is sharp and unrelenting, leaving you wincing as you try to figure it out.

“can you see anything?” you ask, your voice tight.

but zach’s expression answers before he says a word. his eyes widen, his face draining of color as he steps closer, urgency in every movement.

“oh shit,” he mutters, already crouching down to get a better look.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

“intercostal muscle strain,” the doctor says, her tone calm but firm as you sit up with a wince. “you’re very lucky—it could’ve been a fractured or broken rib, and that would’ve been far more painful than what you’re feeling now.”

you nod slowly, wincing again as you pull your clothes back down over your bare torso.

“it’s nothing serious, thankfully,” she continues, scribbling something onto a notepad. “but you’ll need to take it easy—no snowboarding for at least a week.”

you groan dramatically, throwing your arm over your eyes in exasperation, only to regret it instantly as the ache in your side flares. you hiss through your teeth, lowering your arm gingerly.

the doctor hides a small smile at your frustration. “get plenty of rest, and take two 500mg Tylenol every 4–6 hours to help with the pain,” she advises. “for the bruising, you can pick up some arnica gel or aloe vera at a pharmacy—it’ll help with the inflammation.”

zach, who’s been quietly standing at your side the whole time, finally speaks up. “so no snowboarding at all?”

“none,” the doctor confirms, looking at you pointedly.

zach lets out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful nothing was broken, though the guilt still gnaws at him. that tumble had cost you a week of your vacation, and the thought that he played a part in it made his chest ache.

his hand rests idly on the edge of your pillow, his mind clouded with regret, when he suddenly feels your fingers brush against his. his gaze shifts to yours, and he knows immediately that you’ve read him like a book.

the doctor steps out, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. she’s seen the unspoken bond between the two of you—something that everyone else seems to notice, even if you and zach haven’t admitted it to yourselves.

“i’m so sorry—” zach starts, his voice heavy with remorse, but you cut him off with a gentle shake of your head.

“it wasn’t your fault, zach,” you say firmly, your voice soft yet steady. your fingers trace small patterns on the back of his hand, grounding him. “there was no way to stop that fall from happening, or for you to avoid crashing into me. it was just… one of those things.”

zach looks down at your intertwined fingers, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

you smile, swinging your legs carefully over the edge of the bed to stand. “though i do wish you hadn’t elbowed me so hard in the process.”

your playful jab makes him groan, dropping his head into his hand. “you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“not a chance,” you tease, grinning as you test your balance on your feet.

his guilty expression softens into something lighter, his lips quirking into a small smile as he watches you. “fair enough,” he murmurs, his tone filled with a mix of relief and something deeper he doesn’t quite let himself say.

as per the doctor’s advice, you and zach stopped at a nearby pharmacy on the way back to the cabin, picking up some arnica gel for the swelling and a bottle of tylenol. zach had insisted on carrying everything, even as you rolled your eyes and tried to insist you were fine.

back at the cabin, he’d gone into full caretaker mode. now, you were nestled on the couch in your favorite pajamas, surrounded by fluffed pillows, a warm blanket, and fuzzy socks. zach had even turned on your favorite comfort show, leaving no detail overlooked.

in the kitchen, you could hear him speaking quietly with your parents on the phone. the tone of his voice was calm and reassuring, though you caught a few words here and there about “keeping an eye on her” and “following doctor’s orders.”

“yeah, I will. alright—yeah, sounds good, I’ll let her know. oh- okay. bye.”

zach ended the call, setting his phone down on the kitchen island before heading over to you with a water bottle, a couple of tylenol pills, and a snack bowl balanced in his hands. he plopped onto the couch next to you, a small laugh escaping as he handed you the items.

“let me guess,” you started, mockingly, “make sure she’s actually taking the pain meds and don’t let her go snowboarding no matter how much she begs.”

zach laughed, shaking his head. “pretty much. they’re just worried about you. it took a lot of convincing to stop them from dropping everything at work and driving straight to the hospital.”

you took the water bottle and pills, rolling your eyes as you scanned the label. “this is bullshit. i feel fine. it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

zach raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “don’t lie. i can hear you cursing under your breath every time you move too fast.”

he twisted open the water bottle and popped open the tylenol, handing them back to you with an air of exaggerated patience.

“i can open my own stuff, you know,” you grumbled, though you took both from him.

“sure, you can,” he said, leaning back against the couch with a smirk. “but this way, i get to feel useful. so, humor me.”

you roll your eyes but oblige, popping the pills into your mouth and washing them down with a gulp of water. for the rest of the afternoon, you and zach fully embraced the art of laziness. you binged several episodes of your comfort show, made your way through the entire snack bowl, and eventually ordered pizza, which arrived just as the last crumbs of chips were devoured—all within four hours.

the warmth of the blanket, the soft hum of the TV, and the exhaustion from the day caught up with you. before you knew it, your eyes drifted shut, the drowsiness overpowering. when you woke, it was to the gentle sensation of zach’s fingers absentmindedly scratching your scalp, the rhythm soothing and familiar.

blinking groggily, you realized your head was resting on his chest. you froze for a split second, then relaxed as the memory of shifting there for comfort came back to you. his chest was sturdy, warm, and—well—perfectly positioned to avoid putting pressure on your sore side. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

“hi,” you croaked, voice raspy with sleep.

“hey,” zach replied softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. his hand paused in your hair briefly before he added, “you need to put the arnica gel on your bruise.”

you groaned in protest, burying your face further into his chest like a stubborn child. the vibration of his laugh rumbled beneath you, warm and familiar.

“c’mon,” he coaxed, leaning forward carefully so you weren’t jostled, reaching for the small container of arnica on the coffee table. his other arm stayed around you, steadying you as he sat back.

with a reluctant sigh, you pushed yourself off him, grumbling as you lifted your pajama shirt just enough to expose the bruised area. even with the pain dulled from the meds, the stretch made you wince, and you let the shirt drop again with a frustrated groan.

“can you help me put it on?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

zach hesitated for a beat, the question catching him off guard. you didn’t notice, but his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the proximity and intimacy of the request making his pulse quicken.

“yeah, of course,” he said, his voice steady despite the way his heart raced. he unscrewed the lid, squeezing a small amount of the gel onto his fingers before looking at you. when you nodded, he shifted closer, his movements gentle and deliberate as he applied the gel to your side.

his touch was careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid of hurting you. “let me know if it stings,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

“it’s fine,” you replied softly, your eyes closing again as the soothing coolness of the gel and his careful touch eased the ache.

zach’s jaw clenched, the muscle ticking as he worked the now-warmed gel into your skin. the rhythmic motion of his fingers was steady, but inside, his composure was unraveling. there was something undeniably intimate about this moment—your quiet, fluttering reactions every time his fingers brushed a new spot, the way your breath hitched when he applied just the right amount of pressure.

his fingers moved instinctively, lifting your shirt a little higher to cover the edges of the bruise, and that’s when he saw it. the small, delicate tattoo just below the curve of your breast.

divine feminine.

the words seemed to stare back at him, burning into his mind as his breath hitched. he swallowed hard, his hand pausing briefly before continuing, slower this time. zach could feel his body reacting in ways he knew it shouldn’t. his chest tightened, and he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to keep himself grounded as warmth pooled low in his stomach.

then you let out a soft, unintentional moan—a mix of pain and relief as his fingers brushed over a particularly tender spot. the sound, quiet and fleeting, sent a chill through him. he froze, inhaling sharply, his hands momentarily still against your side.

your eyes fluttered open, hazy with the remnants of drowsiness. “i’m sorry,” zach murmured, his voice tight.

concern crosses your features as you began to sit up. “zach, it’s fine,” you said, misinterpreting his sudden apology. “it didn’t hurt. i promise.”

but that wasn’t it. not at all.

no, zach wasn’t thinking about the gel, the bruise, or even the fact that he might’ve applied too much pressure. his thoughts had plunged into dangerous territory, spiraling with images he couldn’t suppress.

he was imagining you making that sound again—but for entirely different reasons. how your breathless moans might sound against his ear as you writhed beneath him, your body arching into his as you begged for him to let you cum.

how you might look with your face pressed into the pillows, gripping the sheets, gasping his name in broken cries as he pounded relentlessly inside you from behind, squeezing tightly around him, his hands gripping your hips firmly but gently, guiding you to him.

zach blinked, forcing himself back to the present, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. he dragged a hand through his hair, quickly standing up and mumbling something about needing a drink of water, leaving you puzzled and slightly concerned as he practically fled to the kitchen.

you stood up, muttering a low curse under your breath as the ache in your side flared. despite the pain, you followed him into the kitchen, determined to figure out what was wrong.

“zach,” you called softly, your voice breaking the quiet. he didn’t turn, his back to you, shoulders tense as he stared down at the empty glass in his hands.

stepping closer, you positioned yourself in front of him, standing just beneath his gaze. even then, he refused to look at you, his jaw clenched tightly.

“zach,” you repeated, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, cupping it to force his eyes to meet yours. the warmth of your touch was almost unbearable for him.

“don’t—” he mumbled, voice low and strained, his gaze flickering to the side as if avoiding yours could somehow mask the turmoil written all over his face.

but you saw it anyway—guilt. raw and unfiltered, pooling in his dark eyes and spilling over in the form of unshed tears.

“zach, what is it?” you asked, your voice soft, barely above a whisper in the still air.

he blinked hard, his breathing uneven as he struggled to hold himself together. the weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his chest. you trusted him, leaned on him when you were in pain, and here he was, betraying that trust in the worst way—fantasizing about you.

the images haunted him. he couldn’t stop the shameful loop of memories from late nights in his dorm, where he would close his eyes and imagine you in ways he couldn’t admit aloud. he would picture you on top of him, trying to adjust to his size, your brows furrowed and lips parted in quiet gasps. how you might bite your lip to stifle your moans, only to collapse onto his chest when you came undone, breathless and trembling.

but those were just fantasies, fleeting and far removed from reality. they weren’t supposed to bleed into a moment like this—when you were hurt, vulnerable, and looking at him with those wide, concerned eyes.

he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice barely audible. “you were hurt because of me, and i—i can’t stop thinking about…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to physically dispel the thoughts. “it’s not right. i’m not right.”

you frowned, your thumb brushing against his cheek in a soothing gesture. “zach, talk to me. what’s going on?”

he hesitated, his chest rising and falling as he wrestled with himself, unsure if he could say the words that would change everything.

“hey.” your voice was firm yet gentle, cutting through the silence. zach’s eyes opened, hesitantly meeting yours.

“it’s me,” you said, your tone softening. “you can tell me anything, zach. you know that.”

he chewed the inside of his cheek, his jaw tightening as he tried to muster the courage to speak. “i’m so sorry, y/n,” he began, voice heavy with guilt. “i feel awful about what happened today—about you getting hurt. and then you’re here, trusting me to help you, and i’m…” he trailed off, sighing deeply as he covered his eyes with his hand. “i’m trying so hard to control myself, and it’s not okay.”

your brows furrowed as you processed his words, trying to piece together what he meant. the hesitation in his voice, the way he avoided your gaze—it all felt so unlike him.

then, as your eyes flickered downward, you noticed it. the unmistakable bulge in the fabric of his sweats. your breath hitched in realization, a soft gasp escaping your lips before you could stop it.

zach’s hand remained firmly over his eyes, his posture rigid as if bracing himself for your reaction. the room felt impossibly still, the weight of the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

you reached up, your fingers wrapping gently around his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. zach resisted for a moment, but when he finally let you guide him, his eyes met yours—hesitant, filled with embarrassment.

you offered him a small, reassuring smile, one that melted the tension in his features ever so slightly. without a word, you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his in a kiss that was both hesitant and deliberate.

his brows furrowed, his body frozen for a split second, caught off guard by your sudden boldness. but then, as if a switch flipped, he responded, his hands instinctively finding your face. his touch was firm yet gentle, cradling you as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

it was tender and charged all at once, a silent confession spilling between you both without the need for words. the kitchen, the guilt, the tension—it all faded into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in the moment you hadn’t realized both been waiting for.

your small hands gripped the sides of his sweater near his waist, anchoring yourself to him as his tongue slipped into your mouth without warning. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a soft gasp escaping your lips. every movement—every stroke of his tongue against yours, every firm tug of your hair—set your senses on fire, unraveling emotions you’d worked so hard to bury.

of course you liked zach.

you always had.

the realization hit you like a flood, overwhelming and undeniable. you had tucked those feelings deep into the corners of your heart, afraid of what would happen if zach ever found out. you couldn’t bear the thought of ruining what you had. but the truth was simple: your heart had always been his.

you loved him.

zach pulled back suddenly, breaking the kiss as both of you panted for air. his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and ragged. “wait, wait—” he murmured, his voice low and unsteady.

you whimpered softly, a needy sound you didn’t mean to let out and his cock twitched at it. “zach, please,” you whispered, desperate to feel his lips on yours again, the taste of him still lingering.

he smiled softly, brushing a quick kiss against your lips that left you craving more. “i know, m’sorry, baby,” he murmured.

the nickname made your stomach flutter, sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the cozy cabin. you sighed, tilting your head to look up at him, waiting for the words that you knew were coming.

zach’s face was conflicted, his brows drawn together as he avoided your gaze for a moment. “i can’t believe i’m saying this… but we can’t tonight,” he admitted, chewing on his bottom lip in that pained way he did when he was struggling with something.

you groaned softly, the disappointment evident in your expression. your eyes softened as you saw the genuine concern etched into his face.

“i don’t want to hurt you even more,” he continued, his hand brushing lightly against your side. “and it could make your injury worse.”

“zach,” you whined, leaning your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “we’ll be careful,” you pleaded, your voice soft and hopeful.

you tilted your head back up, your big, pleading eyes locking with his. you knew exactly the effect they had on him, and for a second, you saw him falter. his jaw tightened as he exhaled a shaky breath, clearly battling with himself.

zach let out a defeated sigh, his resolve crumbling as he crouched down and effortlessly lifted your legs around his waist. the sudden motion made you giggle, clinging to him instinctively. “i win,” you teased breathlessly, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

his only response was a sly smirk before pinching your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “careful, or i might change my mind,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he carried you to the bed.

the soft mattress welcomed you as he laid you down gently, the warm glow of the electric fireplace casting flickering shadows across the room. the heat of the moment mirrored the cozy warmth surrounding you both.

zach slid between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips as he settled there, his aching length pressing against you in a way that made your heart race. neither of you hesitated—your lips collided in a fervent kiss, all hunger and passion, as if this moment had been years in the making. which it was.

your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. his lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, each kiss deeper, more intoxicating, than the last. it felt as if the rest of the world melted away, leaving only the two of you in the crackling warmth of the cabin.

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve wanted this,” zach murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of hunger and longing. your response is a soft moan, quiet but fervent, that makes him press even closer.

he trails a series of slow, teasing kisses down your neck, each nip and suck prompting a sweet, aching arch from your body—until a sudden twinge in your side makes you wince. zach notices immediately, pulling back, concern flooding his eyes. “you okay?”

you nod, forcing a soft smile while trying to mask the lingering pain. you’ve waited too long for this moment and the last thing you want is for him to stop.

he studies you for a second, as if assessing whether you’re truly good, then sits back on his legs. “alright,” he says, voice calm but resolute, “this is how it’s gonna go, then. you can’t move. at all.”

your brows draw together, half-expecting him to crack a grin. but he doesn’t. he’s serious, his gaze unwavering.

“if you move,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, “or try to, i’ll stop.”

you swallow, the weight of his words and the gentle authority in his tone sending a surge of arousal low into your belly. you bite the inside of your cheek, eyes fixed on him, already imagining how you’ll manage to keep still under his touch.

“okay,” you whisper, voice steady but laced with anticipation.

zach’s fingertips skimmed over the outside of your closed thighs, his touch feather-light yet deliberate, as if savoring the moment before taking it further. you watched him through half-lidded eyes, heart thrumming in your chest. with patient care, he began to slide your pajama pants down, revealing your baby blue lace underwear.

his throat worked over a hard swallow as he took you in, jaw clenching and pulse thrumming hot beneath his skin. he could feel himself respond immediately—his cock straining against the softness of his sweats. you saw the way his eyes darkened, how that gentle composure threatened to unravel.

without a word, he eased the lace down as well, leaving you bare before him. instinctively, you kept your thighs pressed together, a final barrier of modesty even as your cheeks warmed. he paused, taking in the sight—the subtle flush on your skin—letting the tension in the air stretch taut.

his gaze flickered up to yours, intense and wordless, the warm glow of the fireplace painting both of you in golden hues that made everything feel dreamy and far removed from the outside world.

“perfect,” he whispered, the single word washing over you, making your skin prickle with a delicious heat. it was as if he saw you in a new light—something delicate and cherished. you felt the flush rise all the way from your chest to your cheeks.

he worked on the buttons of your top with gentle care, careful not to brush too roughly near your bruise. his eyes softened the moment the fabric parted, revealing the tender, discolored skin along your ribs. it was more than just concern written in his features—there was affection, regret, and a silent promise to be gentle.

before you could protest or reassure him, his head dipped down, pressing a series of soft, reverent kisses to the bruise as he eased the top off you, leaving you bare. you shivered under the weight of his tenderness, the careful attention making you feel impossibly close to him.

his fingers drifted lower along your navel, the sensitive skin prickling under his touch. he nuzzled his head beneath your jaw, encouraging you to tilt your head and grant him better access as he breathed slowly, evenly, his warm breath fanning over your throat. just as you began to surrender to the sensation of his lips on your neck, he slipped his hand further down, exploring the softness between your legs.

the first gentle slide of his fingertips through your slick folds made your jaw slacken, a quiet gasp escaping. gathering your wetness, he began to trace slow, deliberate shapes over your clit, drawing you into a heady rhythm that set every nerve alight. your body instinctively wanted to rise to meet his touch, but each time your hips started to rock forward, he’d slow his pace, lifting his gaze to give you a knowing, pointed look—reminding you of your earlier agreement.

the unspoken rule was clear: no moving. you had to let him lead, to trust him completely. caught between sweet frustration and delicious anticipation, you let out a shaky breath and let him guide your pleasure, your heart pounding in your ears.

“shit—you’re soaking,” zach groaned, voice low and strained as he picked up the pace of his fingers. each curl and slide drew out soft, breathy whimpers that spilled from your parted lips. he wore a look of intense concentration, as though memorizing every sound you made.

without warning, his middle finger pressed at your entrance before slowly sinking in, earning a strangled moan that made him nuzzle deeper into your neck. “god,” he breathed, voice muffled against your skin, “you feel so good.” you tightened around him reflexively, and he groaned, the vibration of his voice sending sparks along your spine.

straightening up, he shifted to sit back on his legs, changing the angle and giving himself a better view. he guided your knee down flat against the mattress, not just for his eyes but to ensure you couldn’t easily arch into his touch. a high, keening moan tore from your throat as he curled his finger inside you, hitting that perfect spot that sent tremors through your thighs.

you fought the urge to lift your hips, remembering his warning. still, your body trembled with the need to move, to push deeper into that intoxicating sensation. zach noticed—how could he not?—and it fueled the dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. he knew you were on the edge, knew how badly you wanted to give in.

meanwhile, his own restraint was wearing thin. he was hard—achingly so—and the slow, deliberate way you clenched around his finger nearly did him in. but he held back and added a second finger, pulling a sharp moan from you. if you couldn’t keep still now, how could you handle all of him inside you? this was a test of sorts, a delicious torment, and he was savoring every second.

he felt the way you clenched around his fingers, each flutter and squeeze like a plea for release. your hand gripped his wrist, desperate and trembling, but his pace never wavered. “gonna cum for me, angel?” he asked, voice heavy with anticipation.

you nodded frantically, wordless cries tumbling past your lips as he kept hitting that perfect spot inside you. the pressure built swiftly, stealing your breath, until you shattered around him. your vision went white, the world narrowing down to nothing but the pleasure he wrung from your body.

he guided you through it, not stopping until your muscles started to twitch with the first hints of overstimulation. finally, he slowed, easing you down until your body relaxed beneath him, trembling and sated.

with deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers, eyes locked on yours. you watched as he brought them to his mouth, his gaze never leaving your face. he sucked on the digits, tasting you the way he’d imagined a thousand times, letting out a deep, appreciative groan. the warmth of his breath on your skin, the soft glow around you both—everything felt charged and intimate, humming with the understanding that nothing would be the same between you again.

zach tugged his sweatshirt off in one smooth, hurried motion, the fabric barely brushing his skin before it landed somewhere on the floor. the urgency in his movements was unmistakable—he was desperate to feel you against him again. every nerve in his body was alight, the ache of wanting you growing more intense by the second.

with a quick push, he lowered his sweatpants and boxers together, freeing himself in one swift motion. the sight of him made your pulse stumble. he was huge—imposingly so—and the thought of taking him in had your breath catching in your throat. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the widening of your eyes gave you away.

zach noticed. a hint of a smirk ghosted his lips as he settled himself between your thighs, his length resting hot and heavy against your abdomen. leaning down, he caught your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and all-consuming, as if he needed to show you how much he wanted you, how badly he craved this moment with you.

“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and reassuring. “we’ll make it fit.” he pulled back slightly, just enough to watch your face as he guided his tip to your entrance. he gave himself a few slow pumps, as though trying to ease the ache and calm the racing of his own heartbeat.

your breath caught again, excitement and nervous anticipation mingling as he hovered there, every second swelling with tension and promise.

he pressed forward slowly, a careful, deliberate push that drew a ragged gasp from both of you. his forehead hovered just above yours, the soft brush of your lips more an exchange of breath than a kiss, and you tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping gently as he eased himself deeper. small, shallow strokes let you stretch around him, adjusting inch by inch.

your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the dull ache that signaled your body opening to him. he paused when he was fully sheathed, giving you time to accommodate his size. your breath caught as his pelvis brushed against your clit, sparking a low moan from your chest. then he pulled back just enough, pushing forward again to repeat the motion, sending soft ripples of pleasure through you. each gentle thrust replaced pain with gathering warmth, and you felt your body relaxing, welcoming him fully as a quiet whimper escaped your throat.

soon, the discomfort faded entirely, leaving only the sweet, humming pleasure of his movements. once he sensed the tension melt from your muscles, he began a steady, more confident rhythm. a subtle shift in angle, and before long, he had your legs wrapped around his waist, granting him deeper access. the pace picked up, each thrust punctuated by the soft slap of skin and echoed moans that drifted through the room.

you couldn’t hold back a curse at the intensity of it all—his body pressed to yours, filling you so completely, his breathing mixing with yours in frantic, needy staccato. it was raw and intoxicating, the two of you lost in the moment, in each other.

“mm, s’ so deep,” you whimpered, voice catching as you glanced down between your bodies. the sight of him disappearing into you with each thrust made your stomach flutter, your walls gripping him tightly.

zach’s breathing turned ragged, trying to maintain enough control to keep you safe and comfortable. but the temptation was too strong, and he gave a particularly sharp thrust, testing your reaction. you yelped, not in pain but in startled pleasure, and he felt you clench around him in response. encouraged, he repeated it until you were left hiccuping between sobs of bliss, every stroke drawing you closer to that sweet oblivion.

“i know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with need. leaning down, he braced himself and brought his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit. he stroked firm, fast circles, determined to send you over the edge first. your nails raked along his shoulders, your breath hitching with each spiral of sensation. the coil in your belly tightened, ready to snap, as he coaxed you closer and closer toward that shattering release.

“—zach,” you warned, voice thin and strained. his response was a low, desperate moan, fingers and hips working in tandem, never giving you a moment’s respite. every thrust felt deeper than the last, his fingertips circling that swollen, sensitive spot until you were on the verge of unraveling completely.

“c’mon, baby,” he coaxed, voice rough and urgent. “soak me. i wanna feel it.” his pace quickened, hips snapping forward, and you gasped as a wave of pleasure hit you hard and fast. your walls clamped down around him, body arching, a silent scream caught in your throat as you were hurled headfirst into bliss.

zach kept moving, guiding you through the aftershocks, his cock dragging through your pulsing muscles as you trembled beneath him. your moans tumbled into whimpers, every nerve still singing with overstimulation. your fingers curled into his shoulders, breath coming in ragged gasps. “please cum inside me,” you begged, voice shaky and raw, desperate to feel him follow you into that world of sensation.

you felt him stiffen, his rhythm faltering as he pressed closer, every breath hot against your ear. with a low, guttural moan, he finally let go, hips rolling gently as he filled you, warmth spreading with each soft pulse. you could feel it, the tension draining from his body, leaving both of you weightless and sated.

his forehead dipped into the crook of your neck, lips pressing languid, grateful kisses against your skin. he was careful with his weight, mindful of your injury and the tenderness in your body, as both of you lingered in the lingering glow. your breaths intermingled, still coming in soft, uneven gasps as you drifted down from that blissful high.

after a moment, he slowly pulled out, making you both hiss quietly at the sensitivity. he rolled onto his side, immediately reaching for you and covering both of your cooling bodies with the duvet. you shifted to face him, still a little breathless, your eyes meeting as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“hi,” you managed, voice husky and soft, a small, contented smile curving your lips.

a quiet laugh escaped him, his arm moving soothingly up and down your back. “hey,” he replied, voice deep and warm, as if speaking in a secret language only the two of you understood.

“i don’t think i told you this earlier but…” you begin, voice soft and cautious as you search for the right words. “i’m all in, zach.” your heart is pounding in your ears, and you’re pretty sure he can feel it where he’s pressed close to you under the duvet.

zach’s eyes soften, a gentle smile curving his lips. the slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes gives away his relief. you draw a shaky breath, forging ahead. “i feel like you know you’ve always been it for me. or even if you didn’t, i did. you’re my endgame.”

you’re watching him carefully, looking for any flicker of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is the same warmth and affection you’ve been craving for years.

he doesn’t say a word at first, just leans in and kisses you—slow and deliberate, a silent promise pressed softly into your lips. then he moves along your cheek, brushing your skin with tender pecks, and keeps going until you’re giggling, trying to squirm away from his playful assault of affection.

when he finally pulls back, both of you breathless with laughter, he meets your gaze head-on. “i’ve always loved you, y/n,” he says, voice steady and sure. “you’re it for me.”

your heart swells, and you think you’ve never been happier than in this very moment, wrapped up in his arms, secure in the certainty of what comes next.

for the rest of the night, you and zach drifted in and out of conversation—those familiar, meandering chats that never really needed a point—punctuated by soft laughter and sweet nothings murmured into the darkness. in the quiet spaces, you made love again and again, as if making up for all the time lost.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆

the next morning, you woke to find the bed empty. you stretched, the slight ache in your side a warm reminder of the day before. slipping into zach’s sweater and a pair of sleep shorts, you followed the glow of holiday lights out of the bedroom. as you reached the upstairs landing, your eyes widened at the transformation: the entire cabin, from the top floor down, was strung with festive garlands, sparkling ornaments, and twinkling lights.

a fond smile curved on your lips as you descended the stairs, drawn toward the kitchen by soft clinks and muffled curses. rounding the corner, you spotted zach at the stove, his back to you, clearly wrestling with some culinary experiment. “morning,” you said, leaning your elbows on the island.

he turned quickly, an anxious frown on his face. “did i wake you?” he asked, only to relax when you shook your head. you slipped behind the island to join him, his arms sliding around your waist as you took in the sight of eggs and batter, a haphazard attempt at breakfast. “wanted to surprise you,” he murmured into your hair. you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

“good morning, baby,” zach said softly, smiling down at you.

just then, the front door swung open. in came both sets of parents and a handful of siblings, chatter and laughter echoing off the wood-paneled walls. “hello, hello!” your mom’s voice rang out. before you and zach could step apart or even explain yourselves, she rounded the corner into the kitchen. the scene she found: zach nuzzling your neck, you murmuring about how sweet he was being, both of you bathed in the soft glow of holiday lights.

you froze, cheeks flushing, while zach’s arms tightened protectively around you. your families, already grinning from the doorway, seemed more than pleased to discover the truth you’d both been too shy to admit—until now.

“alright, i called it! everyone cough it up!” avery, zach’s little sister, crowed triumphantly. your families groaned in unison, each one reluctantly digging into their pockets to hand over five dollars. avery quickly amassed thirty bucks in her palm, grinning from ear to ear.

you and zach exchanged a look, trying and failing to stifle your laughter before pulling apart and greeting everyone properly. you embraced each of them in turn, still a bit stunned to see them all here a day early. the cabin brimmed with the scent of pine, hot chocolate, and something baking in the oven—warmth and comfort encapsulated in one cozy scene.

for the remainder of your winter break, you and zach reveled in that feeling of family and togetherness. your days filled with laughter echoing off the wooden walls, good-natured bickering with siblings over board games, and playful teasing from your parents that had both of you blushing more than once. above all, there was the gentle thrill of reaching for zach’s hand under the table, catching his eye across the room, and feeling love wrapped around you like a warm blanket against the cold outside.

© aerialmirrorss

[bbokicidal]

Not a Need, but a Craving | Loser!Perv!SKZ

Warnings: Chris is lowkey a creep here lol, Perverted behavior; Panty stealing, slapping of tits/ass/face, hair pulling, up-the-skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom?Jeongin Pairing: OT8 [individual] x Fem-implied!Reader Genre: Suggestive but not smut (well.. sort of. 18+) Notes: Based loosely off of this perv!skz post I did a while ago. <- read this first!

방찬

Relation: Trainees

❥ Chris tells himself he'll delete these pictures every time he takes them, but he always ends up adding them to the the album specifically curated towards you and your -- well, the panties he deemed so cute and so sexy, enough so that he needed the pictures on his phone or he'd die. It was the only thing that he could get off to at this point; Women just didn't ever seem to want to come home with him so he could actually get some pussy, so...

❥ He's almost... proud of himself with how slick he's gotten; Taking pictures up your dress at the club when you're dancing against him, sneaking a photo or two up your skirt on the train while you wait to get off, or even up your nightgown when you're in the kitchen making breakfast for him after he stayed the night because the ride home was hours long and you had too big of a heart to let him go so late in the night.

❥ And of course he knows you can never find out. You're pretty, popular amongst the trainees and he's -- yeah, he's been there a long chunk of time but he doesn't have a ton friends or go out with people like you do. If you found out, if anyone found out, he'd be kicked out of the company and he'd never see you - or your pretty pussy and cute lacy panties - ever again...

리노

Relation: College students

❥ Minho is always touching you. When he can, at least.

❥ It started all because you sat next to him when studying. He was there to help you, but you insisted on moving closer to look at the textbook he was gesturing to and the moment your thigh brushed against his own it was all over for him. He'd tensed up and choked on every word that tried to leave his throat, ears bright pink. He could even smell your perfume from where he sat.

❥ He knew almost immediately he needed more, so as he came over more often to help you with classwork - because that's all he was to you, a tutor - he would let you sit close or even ask you to come sit beside him instead of across the table so he could have you right there. He would think about it later, too; The way your hand lingered on his arm when you patted it and bid him goodbye that evening, the way your fingertips brushed over his own as you eyed the textbook together.

❥ Maybe he was a bigger loser than he thought, getting off just from the simple touch of a pretty girl he shares a class with. (Not that he'd ever admit to you that sometimes he comes in his pants when your thighs touch his own under the table...)

창빈

Relation: Gym buddies

❥ Changbin was... still shameless.

❥ But even less so, now. He'd begun asking you to come to the gym with him all three times of the week he went - his schedule a bit busier than normal these days - and every single time he would go home and right away hop in the shower to tug on his cock.

❥ He'd started doing this... thing. He swore it was so that at the end of the year, you could create a video that showed your progress over every day you spent together at the gym working hard - but really, Changbin took photos of you two together at the end of your workouts just so he could use them while he got off later that evening. The sight of your hair all messy, you in slightly damp workout leggings and a sports bra, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat...

❥ He knew it was a little gross, using your body to get off like that. Especially when you were sweaty in all of the pictures - But he preferred it that way. He could hear your heavy breathing in his ears even hours after you'd parted ways, the way your chest bumped his arm as he flexed and you held up a playful peace sign and smile. Call him gross all you want - He knew what he liked, and what he liked was you.

현진

Relation: Friend of a friend

❥ The collection was growing day by day and Hyunjin was getting more and more bold with every move he made. He never got the real thing because girls just weren't interested in him with his long hair, glasses, and pretty round eyes; so this was the best he'd get.

❥ He'd started sleeping over more often, using Felix as a reason to even be there in the first place. You two were close, he was close with the Australian - so he was automatically invited too, right? Right! And when he was over at your house and you were distracted playing a game with Felix, well - what was Hyunjin to do but go through your drawers and find something to take home with him?

❥ He's got favorites, of course. Anything pink is by far at the top of his 'I want this' list, stealing a lacy pair the first time he came over - then two more pair, one set seamless and the other covered in cherries, the next time he visited. Luckily for you, he doesn't stay the night at your place too often, or you'd be running out of underwear constantly with how he's stealing them left and right.

❥ But Hyunjin swears he's seen you stealing glances at him here and there, so... maybe if you knew he was using them to jerk himself off every night or sleeping with them curled up near his face so he could rest with your scent right beside him, you'd be more open to just handing him a pair to keep.

❥ It's only a matter of time before he starts taking the used ones.

한

Relation: College Roommates

❥ Jisung can't help the way he's just so... submissive? Around you?

❥ Let me explain. Jisung's developed a real bad habit of acting like he needs help from you when you're around because if he needs help, you'll touch him. He'll eat messier than normal so you'll wipe his lips clean for him - and yes, he'll practically come in his pants at the feeling of your thumb so close to slipping in his mouth - or he'll almost act as if he doesn't know how to do something so you'll hold his hands while you explain or hold onto him as you help him learn how to do something. Even if he's just faking being a bit of a himbo so you'll help him.

❥ And one of the reasons he gets away with this ^ so easily? Is because he's a known loser around campus and he's constantly teased for it. And you..? Well, you're the pretty girl who takes pity on him.

❥ His favorite is when you come to check on him at night or peek in to see if he's sleeping before you shower. He'll hum out that his head hurts or that his back aches from training all day or working out - and you'll comb his hair through your fingers or rub your hands down his back until he's falling asleep under your touch. And while, yes, it does help him sleep in the long run - it also makes him rock hard. The moment you leave the room after he 'falls asleep' he's rutting his hips down against the mattress and whimpering your name into his pillow.

필릭스

Relation: Best friend's brother

❥ Felix is affectionate with everyone he's close to. But you -- you're beautiful, and soft, and your tits are just so...

❥ Call him a loser if you want - he knows it's what he is. A desperate, shy, sweet angel who's booksmart and tries way too hard to be cool, who hangs around the pretty, popular girl because she's his sister's best friend. Just the precious little brother who sees that gorgeous girl once or twice a week at his home and takes it as an opportunity to hang around her; Hugging onto you, burying his face in your neck, cuddling up close during movies.

❥ And you let him cling to you because 1) He's hot, and 2) You know it's the only touch from a woman he'll ever get. And you suppose you don't mind the way his hands wander over your body when he swears he's just cuddling close and getting comfortable. You're pretty sure he doesn't realize you know he's feeling you up and groping every curve of your body, but. Ignorance is bliss.~

승민

Relation:

❥ It starts as an accident.

❥ Seungmin's hand caught in your hair when he laid it on your back and as he pulled away, his ring caught and pulled. He'd moved away so fast it had been enough to make your head lull back, a gasp and yell of pain and laughter falling from your lips as you reach to push his arm away.

❥ And Seungmin... -- God. He's weak in the knees. He spots the way your mouth falls open, your nose crinkles and eyes close at the feeling of your hair being pulled. And he knows in that moment that he needs to see you like that again.

❥ So he does it as a joke; subtle and cautious about it at first. You'll play fight or bicker about anything and Seungmin will pull your hair, fingers fisted tight in the strands until his hand was so close to your scalp that he had full control of your head. On one instance he had pulled you close until his face was inches from yours, cocking a brow and listening to you whine about how tight he was holding onto your hair - and another, you'd dropped forward into his lap in laughter while he was still holding onto you and he swore he almost shot a load in his boxers. That was the closest a woman had ever been to his hips - And if you didn't feel the way his cock twitched against the side of your face, it would've been a miracle.

아이엔

Relation: Close friends

❥ Jeongin loves being a little mean to you because you're the only woman in his life who will let him get away with it.

❥ You're one of his closest friends, even if he's kind of lame and everyone looks down on him for being the youngest in his group - and you're the one who openly bickers with him, teases him, and he does it all back to you and you take it, which surprises him a little bit. You let him pull on you and wrestle with you or cling to you when he's tired, even if he's all sweaty and gross. But sometimes the wrestling or bickering turns to pushing and pulling on each other until you're both on the floor and he's holding you down while you're kicking to be free.

❥ The first time he spanks you, all he remembers is the way you cry out and feeling of your ass against his palm. He plays it off by laughing because that's what you do, completely disregarding it and brushing it off before spanking him as well in retaliation - and he lets it happen. Not because he's into it, but because he's too distracted with trying to figure out how to hide the fact that he's so hard it hurts.

❥ He's going to need more of that feeling in the future. He knows he does - so he does it again to test the waters and when you, once again, laugh at it and take it as play-fighting, he dares to go further. These days the two of you are always slapping at each other's arms and thighs and ass - but if he's feeling really bold he'll slap your tits and sometimes, your face. Gently, of course, little taps here and there when it comes to your cheeks. And each time you take it in stride with giggles and slapping him in return, while he gets off to it later that evening in the bathroom stall after practice, remembering the way you feel under his palms when he spanks you.

❥ And that's how Jeongin discovered his impact play kink.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @felixleftchickennugget @byeon-bae

[rqnarok]

worst!logan losing his last bit of self-control. 

smut, mdni! fem!reader. worst!wolverine. unprotected p in v. size kink. 

logan howlett is a decent neighbor, you think. sometimes he might smell like alcohol when you meet him, but still, he’s moderate, respectful, and minds his own business. always got something yet nothing going on. the only thing is, he’s hot. hot and older. way older than you with those wrinkles and greying stubble on his face.

wade told you he doesn’t have a girlfriend nor has he ever once brought back a girl to their shared space, let alone even mentioned one. you thought that this little crush on him would go away like any other—it does not. so then you begin dropping hints that you find him attractive, by wearing your tightest piece of clothing, brushing your ass against him in the laundry room, and even leaving one of your pink cottoned panties to mix in with his clothes. 

the same logan howlett never takes the bait. 

you begin to suspect that perhaps he simply doesn't think you're attractive, or worse, that he thinks you're a creep. doesn’t take long for you to stuff your girl crush into your chest cavity.

it was when you were cradling your laundry basket back to your room when you caught a glimpse of logan trying to open the locks to his apartment, back from his morning run. 

you pad closer to ask him if he needs any clothes washed. logan’s back is still turned from you while he searches for the right lock. 

“need any clothes washed, logan? i’m starting a load up for the day.” you question all while eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his sweat-soaked shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond, “uh- don’t think so—” before he stops his sentence midway when he sees what you’re wearing. 

“‘s that mine?” his voice sounds hoarse in your ear. 

oh, yeah. it’s his customized t-shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. the t-shirt wade and blind al got him for his birthday as a half-fuckin’ joke. the one that has his name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring lowly at the fabric—waiting for your answer.

you look downwards, “o-oh, yeah. sorry. i was doing laundry and found this in the hamper. my clothes are already in the wash. hope that’s… okay?” 

you sound docile and small as though a deer caught in the headlights. christ. what were you thinking, wearing your neighbor’s shirt without his permission. the same neighbor that may think you’re a weirdo. you try to hide your humiliation by shifting—playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

within three big steps, he’s on you. the sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a snarl, almost animal-like.  how or when you both ended up on the floor of his living room is unknown to you. you're on your knees, rubbing your cheek against the carpet as his gaze burns between your legs. only left in his shirt. your shorts and panties are scattered all over the place. when you move your hips backwards, you're silently pleading with him to do something—anything.

he gives the flesh of your bottom a heavy slap that has your hole clenching around nothing, “be good now, doll.” is all you hear before the sting leaves a burning red mark. he calms you down by placing his palm over the back of your his shirt.

you hear a noise behind you before you feel the head of his tip onto your folds—making you release a high-pitched whine into the air. logan, too, groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips before he presses forward painfully slow. you whimper into your own palm, another hand reaching back to touch him, feeling warm all over. your pussy pulses trying to fit his large girth inside your heat.

“i know, bunny. ‘m almost there. thaaaa’s it.” you’re crying with relief when you feel logan’s balls meet your skin—a sign that he’s all the way in.

logan lets out an animalistic sound seeing you speared open on his cock, his name across your back, and you babbling stuff like “so b-big, logan…” 

he pulls back just to sink in again, slowly. logan sets a pace that has you trying to buck your hips back to meet his hips. he lays a large palm in the middle of your back, just under the word ‘logan’, keeping you pinned down on the carpet.  giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“f-fuck. such a pretty fuckin girl. gonna give ya’ what you deserve, yeah?” it manages to get hotter when he bends his right leg to slide in deeper, reaching your sweet spot. “rite’ there, logan…!” you slur mindlessly. 

he only chuckles at the act before taking both of your smaller wrists into one of his hands—pressing them tightly at your back—forcing you into an arch.

“needed this real bad, huh, sweet’art? don’t ya' worry. always gonna be here from now on. no need to fucking wear those tiny tops t’get my attention again.” 

“mhm!” you reply without a second thought. too oblivious to the fact that you’ve been drooling all over the carpet and to the fact that you’ve been caught. logan gives a deep relief sigh at how compliant you’ve become just from his thick cock.

your high comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out phrases of please and logan. logan is not far behind—burying himself deeper as he can—and comes inside with a profound ‘oh fuck.’

he trails kisses on your face until he reaches your lips. logan pulls himself out with an obscene sound and watches his cum stream down your thighs. leaving small traces on the floor that he knows he’ll have to clean later before his roommate yells in his ear. 

logan pats your back affectionately and pulls you until you’re lying soundly on his chest, “don’t think y’re gonna do any laundry today, dolly.”

[mommynott]

Lights, Lust, and Leather

12 Days of Dickmas — Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Christmas break has you feeling lonesome, taking matters into your own hands you decide to decorate the common area when suddenly your…enemy? 👀 Stumbles in…and let’s just say he’d much rather decorate you.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, college au, ewb!theo, enemy!theo, dom!theo, blow job, throat fucking, restraints, rough sex, degrading, dirty talk, choking, slight slapping, spanking, slight brat taming, slight edging, PIV, creampie, dom&sub, enemy!theo going to fucking town

The Common Room felt deserted, almost empty in the absence of the other Slytherin students. It was the first day of Christmas break and the vast majority of the students were eager to head home for the holidays.

But you had stayed behind. You decided to take it upon yourself to decorate the usual brooding common room, turning it into a dark Christmas wonderland.

With a slick twirl of your wrist, you flicked your wand toward the speaker, ‘Santa Baby’ starting to coo ever so softly around the area. A gentle yet merry smile painted over your face as you rummaged through a box filled with string lights.

Singing softly along to the cheerful music, you felt content. Just a few classmates had stayed behind. But with one particular classmate…you weren’t sure how to feel. Would something even happen?

Wearing a tight verdant v-neck along with a form-fitting, black leather skirt. You felt completely enveloped in the cozy holiday feel. Climbing up on the ladder you had set up next to the fireplace, you carefully began to hang the twinkling lights, draping them with ease yet sophistication.

However, that damn skirt seemed determined to reveal more with each movement. You found yourself teetering precariously on the ladder diligently hanging the set of lights with one hand as the other tried to tug down the leather.

Even with the ladder, you couldn’t seem to reach certain areas across the fireplace. “What the fuck-“ Mumbling a groan to yourself, you messed with your skirt, trying to pull it down to cover the creek of your ass.

Maybe wearing a skirt this short wasn’t the brightest idea. Fuck it. No one was around anyway. You shrugged your shoulders with a sigh as you reached even higher, placing the lights as you could.

At this exact moment, Theo stumbled into the empty common room, his mind still occupied with the final grades yet to come and the fact Mattheo had taken off with some random girl for a week.

Unaware that he had even entered, you were heavily concentrated on the decor. Your tongue creeping from between your lips, your eyes squinting at the bulbous lighting.

As Theodore stepped deeper into the space he froze, his eyes falling on a sight that immediately banished all thoughts of finals and grades from his mind. There, amongst the twinkling lights and Christmas decorations, was you.

You struggled on the ladder. Your skirt having ridden up to reveal a tantalizing expanse of tempting and smooth skin. The skin he knew so fucking well.

Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed behind you. "Well, well, well…" Theo had walked in on your festive preparations, eyeing you down fully. His stare was searing into your juicy ass just as you turned your head with a smirk.

Playfully rolling your eyes to the Italian. “Nott…” With a soft giggle, you swore you felt your cheeks flush up. Fuck. How could he always get you this flustered? You hated him. Loathed him. In every aspect…besides sex.

Taking another stride toward you, Theo shoved one of his hands in his pocket. Slowly caressing his knuckles down your bare thigh with the other one.

His gaze now shifting up to meet with yours. “-Surprised you’re doing all of this.” In his usual taunting tone, you could feel your jaw clenching. Why do you have to be so annoying yet so fucking hot?

“You’d be surprised by a lot of things I can do, Nott”

Theo now palmed around your thigh, giving it a faded squeeze while a deep chuckle muttered from his lungs. “Hm…Would I be though?— I think I’ve seen all you can do, Bella.” For fucks sake. That damn Italian nickname. It drove you up a wall.

You could feel the heat already shooting down between your legs from not only his words but his touch too. The sexual tension already spilling over the edge. Something that happened quite often with the two of you.

“Actually, you haven’t.” Replying in a snippy manner, you slowly cocked your head to the side as you continued to hang the Christmas lights onto the mantle.

Trying to ignore Theodore, you shifted over, standing on your tiptoes. Your smooth skirt riding up more so. He could hardly hold it together at this point.

“Being a fuckin’ brat today aren’t we?”

Through a growl-like tone, Theo took a step back and you sighed. Your eyes rolled once more as you faced him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a dick.” Mumbling your words, you fully turned your back.

Putting your focus back on the decor. Theodore, walked to a nearby couch, plopping down as he placed his hands behind his head, manspreading as he observed you.

Engrossed in the twinkling lights, you began to think he had wandered off. But no— Theo was still there. His sight traced down your entire body. Admiring every single crook and curve. “Fuckin’ hell-“ Breathing his thoughts aloud, your head whipped around in surprise.

“If you’re still here, why don’t you get off your ass and help me?” The irritation radiated off of you, but fuck, Theo found you that much hotter when you were angry, annoyed, bratty. Liking the challenge of you.

“You see…I could help you…” he started, relaxing further into the couch with a sly shit-eating grin. “…But what fun would that be? I’m enjoying the view, Tesoro.”

Even through his annoying aura, Theodore held his charm. Something that always worked on the ladies. Even you. “God— You are so fucking annoying…” Sneering your words, you felt the rage bubbling inside of you.

The rage that would so easily turn into passion with him. Fuck me. Suddenly you realized what you had said. What you had done. But you weren’t upset about it in the least.

“The fuck did you just say?”

Theo stood up abruptly, making his way over to you on the ladder. Feeling your knees already start to go weak. You had pushed him over the edge like you always did. His aggression was going to be taken out on you like it always was.

“I— nothing. I said nothing.” Stifling back your flirty laugh, you gave Theodore a bratty yet knowing look. Coaxing him deeper into sexual frustration.

“Oh, you’re going to regret this, brat-“ Before you could even respond, he picked you up easily. Throwing you over his shoulder, his free hand yanking the string lights off of the mantel.

“Hey! Those took forever to put up!” With a whine, your body limped against his own. Feeling his strong hands holding tightly onto your thighs. “Don’t care.”

Practically spitting out his words, he stormed you both off to his dorm room, locking the door behind him before throwing you down on the bed. “I got under someone’s skin didn’t I?” You were only fueling the fire now, but fuck. You loved to see Theo so angry.

The way he’d dominate the fuck out of you. The way he’d pound into you like crazy. Angry sex with Theodore Nott? Top fucking tier.

“I’m going to fuck that bratty mouth of yours until you can no longer speak.”

Nothing but dominance danced in Theo’s eyes. He stalked over, plugging the string of lights into the outlet behind his bed before sitting you up on your knees. “Maybe that’s what I wanted…”

The excitement was coursing through your veins but all of a sudden he brought both of your hands behind your back. Tying your wrists together with the wired lights. Feeling the warmness of them against your delicate flesh.

“W-what are you doing?” Stuttering through a low laugh, you felt Theodore tighten them snuggly. However, he didn’t respond. He was in full Dom mode now. Throwing off his shirt before Unbuckling his belt, he tossed them both to the side.

His ocean gaze filled with an assertive winter storm now as he shuffled his jeans off, pulling out his massive hardened length. “Open up, marmocchia-“

The Italian pet name for brat slipped through his lips while he grabbed a fistful of your silky hair. Bringing you closer to his cock. “Needy for me hm-“ Cutting off your words, Theo took his free hand, using his thumb to part your lips open before ramming his blood-filled throbbing cock into your mouth.

“Fuck— Shut the fuck up and suck me, slut.” He groaned loudly, both of his hands wrapped throughout your locks now.

Thrusting his hips against your face, your once siren-like eyes turned to a doe-eyed stare. Taking him all in as your hands instinctively fought against the restraint of the lights.

—Gluck Gluck Gluck- the noises you were making while he fucked your throat was making Theo’s dick spasm with pleasure. Snaking his hands down quickly, he took the material of your shirt and tore it straight down the middle, your forest green lace bra popping out.

“Let’s get these perfect titties out, Tesoro.”

He growled, tugging your breasts right out of your skimpy bra, seeing those hardened nipples perk right up. Theo fought out a groan, mercilessly thrusting down your throat while his hands found their way back into your hair.

One gripping hard on the back as the other brushed through your strands gracefully. Pushing his length further down your throat, you gagged against him, tears now pricking the corners of your eyes.

A low and menacing laugh freed from Theodore as he fucked your face even harder. Taking one of his hands and lightly slapping the apple of your cheek. “Open up that throat, slut- I know you can do it…Open.” The assertiveness was prominent through his grunts.

You tried to loosen up your throat muscles, your mascara dripping down your face as you did. But when you heard an approved moan from Theo, you knew it was working.

“Ah— Good fuckin’ girl…Just like that”

Seeing him bite his lower lip through your blurry vision, you felt a sense of pride run through you. Knowing you were feeding Theo with nothing but pure bliss.

He started to cram further and further down your throat, seeing the outline of his cock down your esophagus. Fuck. Your binded wrist felt hot to the touch by now, whimpering through his intense plows.

This went on for a good few minutes until Theo felt like he could fucking bust a nut on the spot. Not only that but your throat had an intense beating. And he fucking knew that.

He slowly pulled out, drool falling from your mouth as you inhaled sharply. “Fuck—“ Your voice was burnt, sounding hoarse. He did in fact keep his promise.

“C’mere…Imma fuck that perfect pussy of yours now.” Your cunt throbbed with excitement as he spun you around. Not having access to your hands, your head fell directly onto his silk bedsheets.

Your ass flawlessly perked up for him. But that leather skirt? It remained on, he just made sure to carefully roll it up.

-Smack! Theo’s hard and heavy palm swatted across your bottom causing it to redden instantly.

“Gods— P-please fuck me…please.” You begged the Italian through a whimper, veering your head to the side so your submissive eyes could lock with his.

A cruel and ungodly smile of seduction plastered over his features before he gave another slap to your ass, watching as it rippled. “How can I say no when you beg like that?” With a smirk, he slammed his needy cock deep inside of you without warning.

“Cazzo— You’re so fuckin’ wet for me-“ Theo rasped through his rough slams, feeling your walls stretch out with ease. Tightly grabbing your restrained wrists with one hand, the other dug into your hip, surely breaking skin.

But fuck did you enjoy this. “I forgot how big you were!” Crying out from the swirling sensations of pain and pleasure, he couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath.

“Yeah? I’ll have to fuck you more often, Cara Mia.” Thrusting into your soaked cunt even harder, he pulled back on your wrists, hovering you just above the bedding.

“-Yes—Yes…Fuck! I’m so close, baby—“Your moans only seemed to get louder with each passing second. The gushing sounds of your wetness and Theo’s skin slapping against your own echoed around you.

But suddenly, he quickly pulled out of you. Just as you were on the brink of climax. “-The fuck?!” Squeaking out, your brows furrowed up at him, seeing that taunting, edging look in his eyes.

“Not yet.” Firmly speaking, he swiftly untied your wrists, wincing from the blood pooling back to them. “On your back, slut.” With his demanding tone, he didn’t even give you a chance to respond.

Tossing you over on your back, a raspy yelp emitted from your lips, breathing heavily as Theo restrained your left wrist to the bed, using the sparkling lighting.

Your lips parted but no words seemed to come out. You simply watched as he moved over to your other wrist, tightly binding it to his bed frame. “But what if-“

A hint of concern tainted you. —what if something went wrong? But Theo could see the anxiety spiking within your mind. A small closed-mouth smile twitched on his lips.

“It won’t- I promise…I won’t let anything happen to you…alright, Tesoro?” He reassured smacking a sweeter kiss to your lips as he positioned himself between your legs.

That was the thing with Theodore Nott. As much of an asshole he could be with you, he would randomly show a more soft and affectionate side. Something you wanted to explore even deeper. “O-okay…” Bright red tinged your cheeks, Theo teased your leaky slit with his pre cum covered tip.

Lifting that black leather skirt so it bunched right around your midsection. “Fuck…you’re drenched.” Through a breathy rasp, he tilted his head back momentarily. And right when you’d least expect it, slipping right back between your clenched walls.

Twisting your own hands and gripping the bases of the string lights, you pulled them ever so slightly, feeling the burning bulbs dig further into your flesh. A burn you were slowly craving more and more of.

“You fuck me so good, Theo!— just like that!” Arching your back, you could feel the now warmed sheets shifting beneath your body, Theo only railing into you faster than before.

“That’s right, slut— No one else fucks you like this, hm?” His domineering tone croaked through his own deep moans. The sensations you were sending through Theodore were otherworldly. “N-no fuck!— Only you…only you, Theo…gods- I’m so close!”

Your moans now turning into screams that bounced off of the stone walls of his dorm room. He smirked, wrapping one hand around your throat, the other grabbing onto the top of his bed frame.

The pounding of the wooden oak ramming against the wall was hefty and loud, your eyes practically rolling into the back of your head.

“Yeah? My dirty little slut wants to cum? Release for me.” He husked, those dead eyes flickering between your own. Rolling his hips smoothly at great speed, he was hitting all your sweet spots.

However, as soon as you got the go-ahead, you didn’t wait any longer. Throwing your head back against the pillow, your eyes squeezed shut while your legs trembled. The rush of your juices squirting out all over Theo’s length, soaking it whole as you hit a sensational orgasm. “See…”

A ragged whisper strumbled through his lips, the Italian accent rolling off perfectly along with it. “…No one fucks you like I do…no one makes your body react the way I do…no one can make you feel as good as I do.” His raunchy words only made your heart flutter.

As fucked up as that was, it was true. You were catching your breath, your body fully limp after finally cumming. The pulsating feel of bruises forming shooting up to your wrists.

“You’re…right….”

You moaned through Theo’s plows, your gaze locking with his before you continued. “…But it goes the other way too, Theo…” bucking your hips forward, pushing him deeper inside of you. He smiled, sweat beading down his forehead from how hard he was fucking you.

“And you are also right, Bella.” His muscles flexed, both of his hands holding onto the headboard now as he let himself lose control within you. That perfect fucking pussy

“Fuckin,— God- you’re going to make me cum…Fuck—“ he tripped over his words, feeling his dick twitching within your warmed walls. His seed shooting deep inside of your cunt could have had you cumming again.

Just seeing the way he tensed up, his groans, the way he never took his hungry eyes off of you. Not even for a second. He kept his cock inside of you as he came to a full stop.

Both of your breaths matched each other, a comforting silence wrapping around both of you like a cozy winter blanket before he leaned down. Pressing a lingering soft kiss to your lips, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re too good, Tesoro.” He complimented, pulling out of you and watching his white load dripping out of you. Letting out a satisfied groan as he did. Theodore quickly grabbed a towel to clean you up before untying your wrist.

Massaging your now bruised arms, you hissed. Giving the Italian a cheeky smirk. “I suppose I should go finish hanging those up.” With a giggle you pulled your leather skirt down, throwing your bra back on.

But your shirt? It was a torn mess. Before you could even say something about it, Theo playfully tackled you back on the bed. “Nah- you’re not going anywhere…That can wait.”

The most sarcastic and egotistical grin spread across your face as you stifled back a loud laugh. “Oh? Thee Theodore Nott wants to hang out with me huh?” You teased him, feeling as he wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you into a spooning position. “Oh shut it…don’t let your head get too big.”

Playfully rolling his eyes, he smacked a kiss to the crook of your neck as you both relaxed. Weirdly enough as much as you both loathed each other in a public setting, when it was just the two of you— and sex was involved- Theo wasn’t half bad. You could get used to this. Maybe Christmas break wouldn’t be as boring as you anticipated.

AHHHHH THE START OF DICKMAS !!! I hope everyone enjoyed the first of twelve 🎄🎁

If you haven’t already please go check out @nottsangel @nottswitch @slytherinslut0 as they’re also doing fun little Christmas works!❄️

Dividers linked in my masterlist 🌙

Love my naughty smut sluts 💋

[lostalioth]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞

→ premise: all logan wanted after a hard and long day was his girl and if he has to chase her around the house a little. even better.

→ pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, unprotected sex, primal kink [sort of?], logan chase’s reader, free use, nicknames [my girl, baby, sweet girl], daddy kink, logan calls himself daddy [and old man once], bathroom sex

→ a/n: kinktober 14

Logan was a simple man all he needed was his girl after a long hard day. It was an ache deep in his adamantium bones that he couldn't explain. An ache that seeing your pretty face beaming at him the second he pushes open the front door melted from his abused body.

You however decided that today for a little extra fun, you wanted to be a brat and run from Logan instead of greeting him at the door like his good girl. “C’mon you're really gonna make ya’ old man chase you sweet girl?” He groans, barely using any strength or energy as he slowly follows you as you bounce around the house. He was exhausted and yet he couldn't deny that thrill that shot down to his cock as his jeans thighted when he thought of catching you, he knew he could. Admittedly yes he had a large advantage over you, he was a mutant and you weren't. The idea that you couldn't get away even if you tried sent an ache to your core that made you push his buttons further.

“Afraid you won’t catch up to me daddy?” You giggle and tilt your head in his direction as you made the mistake of standing still.

A boardline primal growl leans his lips causing your eyes to widen, your heart thumping harder and faster in your chest. “Ya’ asked for it baby” he chuckles darkly sending shivers down your spine as he rushes forward in a sudden burst of effort. A squeal leaves your lips in surprise as your instincts kick in as fast as humanly is possible and you spin on your heel running away from your beast of a boyfriend.

“Lo!!” You squeak out, a heat spreading through your body in a mixture of fear and arousal as you try your hardest not to get caught just yet. After a few minutes of manganing to practically run from Logan in circles around the house, on impulse you make a wrong turn and run into your shared bedroom and the attached ensuite bathroom. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck” you curse out as you come to a halt suddenly at a dead end.

”Aww you got ya’ self trapped now sweet girl” Logan’s deep voice filled the echoing bathroom, making it feel like he was surrounding you as he creeped up behind you. Right as you spin your body around to face him, he’s on you in a flash pressing you back against the cold counter. “Did you really think you could outrun me baby? Or did the idea of daddy catching you excite ya’? Huh?” He taunts, his large calloused hands encircling your hips as he pushes his body against you further pinning you in place against the bathroom counter. You let out a short pathetic whine when his thumb runs along the band of your skirt toying with it. “Well? Daddy’s waiting on an answer” he presses with his thumbs against your hip bones before one hand travels up and makes its way under your shirt, working at undoing your bra.

“I wanted daddy to catch me” you gasp out when he pops open your bra under your shirt, pushing the straps off your shoulder and letting it fall to the tile floor. Warm rough hand palming over your now exposed breasts.

”Such a bad girl, making me chase ya’ just for some excitement” he tsks as his hand leaves your chest and he turns his attention towards unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans down his thighs alongside his boxers to free his aching cock. His cock slaps against his stomach, the tip red and leaking down his thick shaft. “Specially’ when ya’ know all daddy wants to come home to is his girl all ready for him to use” he lightly shakes his head, both of his hands now pulling down your skirt revealing the fact you weren't wearing any panties. A rush of cold air hits your exposed bare cunt making you squirm in his hold, your eyes glazing over as you look at the proud look that now over takes Logan's face.

“Oh fuck.. you were ready huh baby? My girls s’sweet to me, not wearing any panties while she’s waiting f’me to get home fuck” he growls out, his tactic of going slow flying out the window now. He quickly pushes your skirt all the way down your legs letting you step out of the puddle of your combined clothes on the floor. Grabbing a hold of your plush ass he is quick to lift you up, sitting you down on the cold marble countertop and wrapping your legs around his wide hips. “Daddy!” You let out a short gasp as he smacks his throbbing tip against your clit before lining it up at your entrance and pushing all the way inside with one sharp and hard thrust.

“S’good for me sweet girl, love my little free use girl” he mumbled out in a slurred together mess, the stress of his long day leaving his body as his hips pull back and snap forward to meet yours, pounding his cock deep inside you. His cock already hitting the spot that makes you see stars repeatedly with every hard thrust into you. “Fuck! Lo~” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in his neck.

“Thought bout’ this sweet pussy all day baby, just wanted to come home to my sweet baby s’bad” he growls out, his balls tightening the more your cunt clenches down on his cock. Gripping onto the back of your neck he pulls your face away from his shoulder to crash his lips against yours to muffle the groans that slip past his lips in pleasure. Logan never used to be this vocal in bed, not a real big fan of talking during sex but he can't help the sounds and dirty words that fall from his mouth when he is buried to the hilt inside your cunt.

“Daddy m’gonna cum, pleasee let me cum” you plead into his lips in a broken moan as the band in your stomach tightens more and more with each slap of his balls against your ass. “Cum f’me sweet girl” he coos pulling away to rub his thumb over your check watching as his favorite sweet blissed out look spreads across your face when the band snaps.

With a wonton cry of Logan's name and mumbles of ‘thank you’ fill the bathroom you gush all over his cock when your orgasm washes over you. Your cum creates a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his hips not flattering in their thrusting making you let out a whimper as the stimulation steadily becomes too much, his tip abusing your g spot countiually even after your climax ends. “Lo…daddy, cant take no more” you whine out, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and the pleasure mixes with slight pain from overstimulation.

“M’sorry sweet girl, daddy isn't done with his girl yet, it’s okay baby just let daddy use ya’ a little more okay?” He grunts out, his fingers digging into your hips as his head falls against your chest, pants and groans tumbling from his mouth mixed in with praise and moans of your name. Logan desperately needed this moment to last just a bit longer before that ache settled into his body again.

→ a/n: i didnt proofread this, im in to much of a rush to get this out today as well as start on the two fics i need to post to to get on track with kinktober

[gabseyoo]

DON'T WASTE THE NIGHT — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: college/university!au, halloween setting, female reader, virgin!kiyoomi, popular!reader, virginity loss, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pretty vanilla but cute, mean girls references, kiyoomi might be a little occ, he’s shy :(, atsumu being atsumu. word count: 8,0k.

notes: yes i’m late to halloween but i don’t care :) it’s being so long since i posted a one shot and i had this idea for maybe a year, two (?), and i finally had the inspiration to write everythiiing. i’m happy with the result, i hope you like it too <3

Halloween parties were not Kiyoomi's thing. Rather, no party at all. He didn't like the crowds, the drunks, or the excessive noise. But thanks to his group of friends (which he doesn't even remember how he ended up being a part of), staying away from parties was almost impossible, so it was already a common thing for him to be dragged to one every weekend where he would be counting the minutes to leave and drive all his drunk friends home. 

But, that was not the case tonight. 

Surprisingly, it was the first time Kiyoomi didn't want to leave a party, and that was thanks to a certain someone who had shown up at the Miya's Halloween party. 

"Just go talk to her." 

Kiyoomi almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his personal headache, also known as Atsumu. 

"Who?" He asked, playing dumb because he knew perfectly well who the blond was referring to, and mentally slapped himself for not being more discreet.

Atsumu snorted, "Y/n. You're staring at her like a creep." He said, pointing his head in your direction across the room, where you were talking enthusiastically with your friend, dressed in a pink tracksuit. "I don't blame you. She's pretty."

Sakusa kept silent, trying to suppress his need to agree out loud, because of course you were pretty. More than pretty. 

"You like her, don't you?" 

Kiyoomi sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with the question. It was obvious he liked you. Very much. But he didn't trust Atsumu to be able to not make a big deal out of the fact that Sakusa liked someone, so he decided to answer his question with a dry: "No."

"Liar." The blond replied. "It's pretty obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." He insisted, though he already knew it would be in vain, it wasn't for nothing he called Atsumu his headache.

"So you hate her and you're staring at her 'cause you're planning her murder?"

Jesuschrist.

"I'll be planning your murder if you don't shut up." 

Atsumu pursed his lips and Kiyoomi thanked god in his head. But the fake threat seemed to work only for a limited time, because the twin spoke again seconds later, making him roll his eyes.

"Don't you even think she's pretty?"

He let out a sigh in frustration, but agreed with the question because, c’mon, it will be a very blatant lie to deny the obvious, "She is." He admitted, "But I don't like her." 

"You do like her, there can't be any other reason why you were looking at her like that."

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, is there a way to shut this guy down?

"Like what?" 

"Like you like her." 

"If I say so, will you shut the fuck up?" He blurted, resigned. 

"I knew it!" Atsumu exclaimed victoriously, and Kiyoomi just let out a sigh, cringing when the twin tapped him a little too hard on the shoulder as if he was congratulating him. "Wow. So Omi likes someone, huh, who knew." 

"Don't make a big deal out of it." 

"Omi, liking someone isn't a bad thing." He said in a more earnest manner, perhaps trying to show that he was actually serious and not joking about his friend’s situation. 

Kiyoomi closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before replying, "I know it's not."

"Then why don't you go and talk to her? She's in your class, isn't she? It wouldn't be weird. Maybe she likes you back."

The twin had a point. Sakusa sat behind you for two hours straight five days a week during a very boring class. While you might not call yourselves the best of friends, you could say you got along well— you would usually turn around to ask him if he understood the subject so he could explain it to you, borrow a pen or offer him a gum. Occasionally you would randomly show him your phone with something you thought was funny and there were even times when you would ask his opinion on which item to buy or which selfie to post, you would often have small conversations and even followed each other on Instagram. And, as a bonus, lately you had started walking together to the classroom exit at the end of class where you would say goodbye with a 'see you tomorrow'. 

But you liking him back? He didn't think he was that lucky.

Because, yes, maybe you weren't a stranger to Kiyoomi and he wasn't a stranger to you either, but contrary to what many believed, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't have much experience with women, not even with having a crush on someone. The idea of talking to you outside the classroom made him nervous. You were too pretty and too charming and too popular and too hot and... out of his league.

There were times when he wondered if it was possible for you to like him? Okay, call him arrogant, but he knew he was nowhere near ugly, that was a point in his favor. But one point that was not in his favor was the fact that, yes, maybe he was good-looking, but the university was full of good-looking guys, who unlike him, were more... outgoing. Guys who smiled more and didn't have a grumpy attitude like he did, who weren't known for being rude, and who probably wouldn't think twice about asking for your number or inviting you on a date. And, honestly, he felt like one more in the very long list of men who have a crush on you. 

"It's just..." He started, but the words were lost in his throat.

"Just what?"

"She doesn't see me that way. Just leave it at that, okay?" He finished his sentence, taking a sip from the bottle of water he'd been carrying since he arrived. 

Atsumu folded his arms, glancing in your direction for a moment before making that smile that never meant anything good, "You know what? I have an idea." 

Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya, what are you gonna do?" 

"You'll thank me later." 

And just like that, Atsumu pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and before Sakusa could stop him, he started walking in your direction.

No. No. No. No. Kiyoomi's heart was going to escape from his chest. Fuck. He knew it was a bad idea to be honest with Atsumu. A. Fucking. Bad. Idea.

He watched frozen from his spot in the corner of the room the moment the blond approached you, greeting you and your friend casually before saying who knows what that made you look at him with confusion for a moment as you exchanged more words, but after something that left the blond's mouth, your face lit up with a smile. The interaction seemed to be going well, until the twin pointed— really fucking pointed—over his shoulder, and then, you connected your eyes with Kiyoomi’s for a moment. 

His feet began to move automatically. 

Towards the exit. 

He was so embarrassed. What did Atsumu say to you? What did you think? Fuck. He didn't even want to know. He was out of here, he'd move his seat to the other end of the classroom, or better yet, he'd never set foot in that class again, who cares if he had to repeat it next semester, that was better than looking you in the face after this.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" 

Sakusa was halfway to his car when he heard the twin's voice call out to him. 

"Home." 

Atsumu trotted up in front of him. "Come on. Don't be like that, listen-" 

"You fucking embarrassed me." He spat, pulling his keys out of his jacket roughly. 

"I didn't. I just did you a favor." Atsumu replied, crossing his arms proudly, which only raised Kiyoomi's anger levels.

Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him.

"Fuck you, don't talk to me ever again."

"C'mon Kiyoomi, trust me. You think I'm capable of making a fool of you?" The twin asked with confidence in his voice. Kiyoomi simply looked at him, his silence explaining his answer, which caused Atsumu's smile to disappear. "Ouch." The twin brought a hand to his chest dramatically and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes before pressing a button on the control, removing the lock and alarm. 

He was barely about to open the car door when Atsumu spoke again. This time in a more serious tone, "Omi, I'm your friend. Just trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Kiyoomi would never admit that those words made him feel a little bad about his attitude. 

Without removing his hand from the door handle, he blurted out the question that was consuming him and that he needed an answer to.

"What did you tell her?" 

For some reason, he expected Atsumu to answer with honesty, but he wasn't surprised when instead, the twin simply replied, "A wingman never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, fuck off." He mused, opening his car door just a few centimeters before the other man's hand closed it.

"Look, just go inside and talk to her. I swear I saw it in her face that she’s interested, of course, until you ran away like a chicken. I hope she's not offended and you've lost the opportunity of a lifetime." 

Only a sentence of Atsumu's words caught his attention.  

"What do you mean with 'she looked interested'?" He asked, his voice betraying him by not sounding as disinterested as he wanted it to.

Atsumu smirked. "It seems like she does see you that way."

You do?

The mere possibility of that being true, of you seeing him that way, was what prompted him to let out a last sigh and set the car alarm again before locking his keys in his hoodie. Although he wouldn't say this out loud and was still unhappy with Atsumu's actions, the twin was right in saying that this could be his chance. Maybe he should stop feeling self-conscious and just go for it. 

"If you're lying, you forget I exist." 

"Deal." Atsumu said, stretching out his hand, waiting for him to take it, but the black-haired simply brushed past him, to which the twin simply huffed in resignation before following his friend.  

Kiyoomi's feet felt heavier with every step he took back to the twins' house, he was going to do it. He was actually going to do it. He was going to talk to you outside the classroom, after whatever Atsumu had told you, which opened the door to many possibilities. One, was that you liked him; the other, was that you didn't and that you only saw him as a friend, he longed too much for the first option but he wouldn't be dissatisfied with the second, it all depended on how things turned out when he walked through the door in front of him.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, filling himself with courage before placing his hand on the doorknob. 

But that burst of bravery he was able to fill himself with was interrupted by the twin, who stopped him with a grip on the wrist.

"Don't touch m-" He didn't finish his sentence since Atsumu put something cold in the palm of his hand. 

"Here." Atsumu whispered and Kiyoomi looked at the object, frowned in confusion when he realized it was a key. "It's the key to the guest room. Use it wisely."

Use it wisely? What did that mean?

"Why would I want to-" Kiyoomi started, but the twin interrupted him, raising a finger to silence him. 

"Shh. Thank me when you're at the altar and I'm your best man. Let's go inside." 

And just like that, Atsumu grabbed his arm to pull him inside the house.

Bruno Mars' voice was blaring from the speakers in the living room, people were singing at the top of their lungs, drinking and dancing, evidently having a good time. Sometimes Kiyoomi wondered how the twins knew so many people, there were so many guests that they had to push their way through the crowd to get to where you were still standing by the kitchen area, looking spectacular as ever as you talked to your friend.

As if you sensed his presence, you turned your face and your eyes met, causing Kiyoomi's heart to skip a beat. Damn, was this a good idea?

"Here he is." Atsumu announced their arrival excitedly. "The Kiyoomi I was telling you about. Does he look familiar?"

Sakusa almost rolled his eyes, but the chuckle you let out at Atsumu's humor stopped him, "Yes, I think I know him." You replied, your eyes still fixed on the tall black-haired man in front of you. 

"Perfect!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically. "Then, since there's no need for introductions, I'll leave you two alone." The twin said, patting him on the back before turning and leaving. 

"Yeah, me too." Your friend said, throwing you a mischievous look and copying Atsumu's action, losing herself in the crowd. 

Now that you were alone (if it could be considered "alone" in a room full of people), he wondered where the direct Kiyoomi was when he needed him. Say something, say something, say something, say something. He mentally shouted to himself, but he was so intimidated by your presence and the cute way you were looking at him that no words could formulate in his mouth. 

"Uh—, hi." He said after a few awkward seconds of silence, trying to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen island. 

"Hi." You replied with a smile and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but at Kiyoomi's lack of response, you continued, "How are you?"

So fucking nervous, he wanted to say, but instead, a 'fine and you?' left his mouth. 

"Me too." You said, and he noticed how you bit your lip lightly, as if you were thinking of what to say before speaking again: "Um… did you do the homework for Monday?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Yup."

Fuck. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. If he were someone else, someone like Atsumu perhaps, he might have already charmed you with words, made you laugh and you would be having a more enjoyable conversation. 

After a sigh, you spoke again. "Are you drinking?"

"Yes." He said, raising his water bottle and feeling stupid a second later, obviously by that question you meant was he consuming alcohol. "Something like that. And you?"

"Something like that" You repeated his words, raising a glass goblet showing what appeared to be a cocktail. "It’s strawberry juice, goes with my costume, and I'm also driving tonight, so I can't drink too much."

"That's very responsible of you."

That's very responsible of you?!

Couldn't he think of something more stupid to say? Probably not. 

But if you thought his answer was stupid, you didn't give it away, since you giggled before saying, "I think it is."

In an attempt to divert attention from his very stupid comment, he took advantage of the information you gave him about the drink to salvage this interaction. "So— why the drink goes with the costume?" 

"You don't know who I am?" You asked, raising your arms to better show off your costume. It was very 2000s style. A pink tracksuit, a white blouse under it, also a necklace. 

"Uh— Paris Hilton?" He guessed, inwardly hoping he was right. 

You giggled again. "Almost. I'm Regina George's mom." You said, giving him a bump with your shoulder against his arm. And, amazingly, Kiyoomi for the first time did not find an unexpected physical contact upsetting. "What do you think? I didn't know who to dress up as and this was last minute."

"You look…" Divine. "Good."

"Thank you." As soon as your words were out of your mouth, he noticed how you stared at his outfit, squinting your eyes and making a tender gesture with your mouth that he had learned you did when you thought of something. "Come to think of it, you pretty much look like Damien in that hoodie. You should just add some sunglasses." You added after a few seconds, pointing to the blue fabric covering his body. 

Kiyoomi frowned. Damien? Who the fuck was Damien and why he looked like him? 

“Who?” He asked. 

“Damien? The guy who shows up in the middle of the gym scene? With the blue hoodie and glasses? You haven't seen Mean Girls?”

The tone in which you said it made him regret having refused his cousin’s offer to see that damn movie a few months ago. 

"No, I've only heard of it." He admitted with a shrug.

Surprisingly, you smiled at his response, "It's a classic. We should see it sometime."

We should. A half smile appeared on his face at the word we. "Yes, we should."

"Um, do you wanna go watch the beer pong game?"

—

Two hours later, Kiyoomi found himself having what was perhaps the longest conversation with a girl of his life, and the one he had enjoyed the most. 

After awkwardly breaking the ice and watching Atsumu lose (two times in a row) in beer pong, you moved to the living room, where you luckily found space on the couch where you had been sitting since then. 

Kiyoomi leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest as he listened intently to you recount an embarrassing childhood memory that had him chuckling softly. The sight was rare, and his friends’ curious stares only made it rarer, he knew they were probably losing their minds right now, but he tried to ignore them, though, focusing instead on the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. You were magnetic in a way he hadn’t expected, and the realization only deepened the smile tugging at his lips. God, how much he regretted not having the self-confidence to talk to you in this way much earlier. 

“Okay, your turn.” You said, nudging his knee lightly with yours.

“My turn?”

“To tell me something embarrassing. Come on, don’t hold out on me now.” You teased, leaning just a fraction closer.

Kiyoomi let out a low groan, feigning reluctance. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

As he started to recount a story about an unfortunate middle school haircut incident, his voice grew more animated, his laughter trying to break through every now and then, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room melted away.

The conversation flowed naturally, but there was an underlying tension, an awareness that neither of you could ignore. When he finished his story, you both fell into a comfortable silence, your knees still brushing against each other.

“Is it me or the twins keep staring at us?” You asked out of the blue, pointing with your head to a spot behind Kiyoomi, who didn't even want to bother turning around—because most likely no, it wasn't you—but still did, finding both twins pretending to look away before going their separate ways, Atsumu bumping into someone in the attempt. 

He sighed deeply, his lips pressing into a line. “Ignore them. They’re just… nosy.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nosy about what?”

His face turned a faint shade of red, and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Kiyoomi didn't want to, but he would tell you the truth. “Probably that I'm talking to a girl.”

You chuckled, maybe finding his bashfulness endearing. “Do you not talk to girls often or something?”

“No.” He said, pretending that the admission didn't make him feel a little embarrassed.

“And is there any special reason why I'm the lucky one?” 

Kiyoomi hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to where your knees touched. His mind raced for an answer, but nothing felt sufficient—not for what he was feeling, not for why you had captivated him so completely.

“You're… different.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before.

“Different how?” You asked, your tone teasing but your eyes soft with curiosity.

He let out a breath, his hand brushing against his neck again, “You're easy to talk to. Genuine. And you're…” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a self-conscious laugh.

“I'm what?” You prompted, leaning in slightly, your voice coaxing.

“You're just… you. And I like that.”

Your playful expression softened into something warmer, and the space between you felt even smaller. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was charged, alive with a tension neither of you could deny anymore. His hand, resting between you on the couch, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make you glance up at him.

In that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shared want that neither of you could ignore any longer.

Kiyoomi leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second leading up to the moment his lips met yours. When they did, the kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened as the world around you faded into the background. He wasn't an experienced kisser, he hadn't done it enough times in his life to consider himself one, but he let instinct guide him, following your rhythm. It was slow and even sweet, he could taste the flavor of your gloss. Strawberry. Maybe the same one he always saw you applying in the middle of class and now decided it was his new favorite flavor. 

Kiyoomi doesn't know at what point the kiss became a little more intense. He could feel you pressing into him as you pulled one of your legs up onto his lap. He was so immersed in the kiss that he even forgot where he was, in the middle of a party, on an old couch surrounded by strangers and friends. 

This same realization also seems to have reached you, because at that very moment you broke the kiss. And even though only seconds had passed, he already missed the feeling of your lips against his. 

“Well—” You said, your voice light but still a little shaky. “I think your friends will definitely have something to talk about now.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Let them.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled at him, you looked very pretty with your slightly swollen lips and bright eyes. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was real or some dream, he was almost certain that his eyes betrayed how madly smitten he was by you. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said, your voice breaking him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in curiosity. “Yeah?”

Your next words, simple yet charged, left him momentarily stunned.

“Can we go somewhere else?”

—

When Atsumu gave him the key to the guest room, he never thought he would actually use it. But here he was, with a very excited you at his side waiting for him to open the door. He really hoped you wouldn't ask why he had that key, because he knew he didn't want to lie to you as he also knew he didn't want to give you the explanation.  

After he opened the door, he stepped aside to let you in first before passing behind you. And something that caught him off guard was, when he barely closed the door behind him, you were quick to lock it before you put your hands on his cheeks to kiss him again. This time hungrier, more passionate. 

You were a good kisser, too good. And that only made Sakusa more nervous than he already was, he knew what you wanted, he knew where this was headed. And even though he wanted it too, the reality is that he had no idea what the fuck to do. 

His body was tensing up, overthinking the situation. He was not experienced in this area, not at all.

Still, he tried to keep up with you, walking backwards as you kissed him until he fell into a sitting position on the bed. 

In a matter of seconds, Kiyoomi watched as you took off your pink sweater, staying only in your tank top which didn't cover you for long, since you took it off immediately, leaving a very nice white bra in sight. 

It would be a lie to say that Kiyoomi was not hard. Because he was. Perhaps much harder than he had ever been in his life. 

“I really wanted to do this.” You said, and without even giving Kiyoomi time to process what you just confessed, you kissed him again, took both of his hands and brought them to your breasts as you straddled his lap. 

Kiyoomi almost choked when he felt your soft breasts under his palms, but instead of doing something with his hands, he stayed still, afraid to make a move you might not like. 

He was frustrated with himself. He literally had the girl of his dreams all over him, kissing him, letting him touch her after admitting that she wanted to do this and he just did nothing. 

Just relax, he told himself. Let yourself go. 

But his body seemed to betray him again the moment your hands went to his pants with the intention of unbuttoning them, because the first reaction he had was to stop you while from his mouth escaped a “Wait.”

“What happened?” You asked, your brow furrowed, obviously confused by his sudden reaction. 

C'mon, Kiyoomi, just tell her. She's an angel, she will understand. 

“I don't know how to say this.” He mumbled, almost to himself. Still, he took a deep breath, encouraging himself to speak. “I, uh- I don't-” He tried to explain himself, but before he could complete the sentence, you interrupted him.

“You don't want to do this, do you?” You spoke softly, Kiyoomi looked up, meeting your face which had an expression full of disappointment. 

His stomach turned over, no, no, no, no. You had misunderstood. “Y/n, that wasn't what—”

You quickly got up from his lap and bent down to pick up your shirt, “It's okay, I just-” Your voice broke as tears escaped your eyes and Kiyoomi felt like he wanted to kill himself at that moment, “I just want you to know that I'm not usually like this, but, when Atsumu told me that you liked me I thought that— I'm sorry, this is embarrassing.” The words rushed out of your mouth as you put your clothes back on. 

Kiyoomi would ignore (for now) that Atsumu really told you that he liked you literally only minutes after he admitted it, he would kill him later, now his main priority was you and clearing up this mess as soon as possible. 

“Hey, wait.” He said, holding you by the wrist to keep you from turning around and leaving. “I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding, just, listen to me for a minute.” 

You looked at him silently before turning to face him again. 

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I like you, too much. I've been for a long time. And believe me when I tell you I really want to do it.” He admitted, and before you could say anything, he continued, “It's just that, I’m really fucking nervous. I— I've never done this.” His last words came out in a lower tone due to nerves and perhaps some embarrassment. But there was no turning back now. 

You looked at him for a few seconds, blinking at him before asking, “Done... what?”

“This.”

“Oh. Are you a…” You said, leaving the last word up in the air, but he mentally finished it for you, knowing full well what you were going to say.

A virgin.

“Yes.” He confirmed it. 

You were silent, and although it was somewhat dark, Kiyoomi could tell the shock on your face. He understood. If he were you, he might have been surprised too, since it's a fact that not many people expect. 

Kiyoomi was silent as well, silently mourning for himself. Thinking that maybe he ruined everything and a part of him was afraid that you would make fun of him. But the truth is that he was more worried if you left, how would he look at your face after that? He wouldn't be able to. It looked like he would have to take back the plan to leave that class and move to another country, which was a shame, because everything was going so well. 

His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere you let out a chuckle. 

“I'm kind of dramatic, don't you think?”

What? 

“I rushed to think that the reason you were a little tense and decided to stop was because you didn't like me, I never imagined that it was because you were… nervous. I'm really sorry, Kiyoomi.”

“Hey, It's okay, don't apologize. ” He said before taking both of your hands in his, “I should do it for not saying it from the beginning.”

“I didn't even give you the time to do it, I rushed too much, I should have taken it slower. But, I was excited, I mean, I just found out that the guy I like, likes me too.”

Okay, this is the second time you've admitted that you liked Kiyoomi. And wow, it felt fantastic to hear it, it felt so good and surreal at the same time that after all, it seemed that his feelings were indeed reciprocal. 

“I think I ruined the mood.” You said in a chuckle, making Kiyoomi frown. “It's okay if you want to stop.”

He didn't want to stop, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. He wanted to do it, with you and only you. So he didn't think much of it when he asked, “Do you?” 

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stop?”

He watched you bite your lip lightly before responding in the most adorable voice ever, “No.”

“Me neither.”

You looked at each other for a few more seconds before you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your lips together again. The kiss was slower, and for some reason it felt much more intimate. 

Kiyoomi returned his hands to your waist, now feeling more comfortable enough to caress you with his thumbs before slowly moving down your hips to your thighs, you seemed to understand what he wanted, because you automatically straddled his lap again. 

After the awkward moment you just spent, his erection had softened, but when he felt your center against his crotch, combined with the kiss becoming more passionate, his dick soon got hard again. You felt it, of course you felt it. That must have been why you began to move slowly over him, brushing your sex against his, which caused Kiyoomi to moan against your mouth.  

Kiyoomi by this point felt more comfortable, perhaps more confident, so he dared to run his hands up your sides until he reached the hem of your blouse. 

“Can I take it off?” He asked after breaking the kiss, and you looked so cute when you let out a giggle and nodded before raising your arms as Kiyoomi pulled up the fabric. 

Your bra came back into view, but not for long, as you brought your hands behind your back to unfasten it to let it fall to the side—Kiyoomi thanked mentally for this because he was sure it would have taken him quite a while to remove it by himself—.

The light coming through the window was enough to appreciate you well, which he was grateful for, because he really didn't want to miss any detail of seeing you this way. His thumbs went up to caress your nipples, which were erect and looked too cute. It was a gentle touch first before cradling both breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently. 

“Can I...?” The question was lost in his throat, somewhat shy even to speak during this moment. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said his name, grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look at your face, perhaps so he would be a hundred percent sure you meant what you were about to say, “You can do anything you want to me. If I don't like something, I promise I'll tell you, okay?”

He looked at you for a few seconds before answering, appreciating your face completely, from your eyes to your lips. God, you were so beautiful. “Okay.”

Kiyoomi kissed your neck and left a small peck on your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He took it slowly, running his tongue softly over it before sucking gently, and somehow he felt proud of himself when you let out a little moan and brought your hand to his black curls. 

He took his time, enjoying the taste of your skin in his mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other and finding delight in the little sounds you made until he felt eager for more. When he parted his lips from you, it was to remove his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion, letting them fall to the floor. 

“Wow,” The expression came out of you almost automatically at the sight of his body. Your delicate hands went to his biceps, making a path along his skin, past his shoulders to his chest. “How can you be so hot?”

Your words caught him off guard, so he couldn't help the laughter that came out of him. “You think?”

“Of course, just look at you.” Your hands followed their trail, down his abs to his v-line, at that moment he knew what you would do next. You settled on his thighs, leaving more space between his crotch and yours, then lowered your hand to the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

Kiyoomi almost moaned when you stroked him and almost choked on his own saliva when your thumb circled the tip, god, he knew he was leaking and hoped it didn't feel in his pants. 

It was the moment you squeezed him, that something changed inside him, he felt eager for more, and although he didn't want to rush this, he dared to bring your lips together again and, placing a hand on your lower back to keep you from falling, he turned around to lay you down on the bed. 

When he felt your hands on the edge of your pants, he decided to break the kiss and positioned himself in the middle of your legs to help you complete the action, pulling the fabric gently down your legs to drop them on the floor. Fuck. He gave himself the pleasure of admiring for a moment your beautiful form in front of him, in nothing but underwear, and practically giving yourself to him. If he was dreaming, he will kill whoever wakes him up.

His hands went up your thighs until they reached the edge of your underwear to start pulling it down, you raised your hips to help him and that was the moment where Kiyoomi saw for the first time your pussy. He gulped when in top of that, you spread your legs just as he finished removing the garment, exposing you completely to him, letting him see all of you. 

Now, what was he supposed to do? Sakusa was not completely uneducated on the subject, he knew where he was supposed to touch or even kiss. But he also knew that knowing it wasn't the same as doing it. So he preferred to be honest and let you guide him rather than try to do something he wasn't entirely sure you would like. 

“I really want to make you feel good, but, can you just…” For some reason (embarrassment) the words were lost in his throat. 

“Guide you?” You finished the sentence for him. 

“Something like that.” He mumbled. 

You smiled with what Kiyoomi guessed would be tenderness before taking his hand and guiding it to the middle of your legs. 

The first touch almost knocked the wind out of him and made his erection press harder against his pants, fuck, you were so wet and he could hardly believe it was because of him. 

Sakusa leaned forward with one arm by the side of your head, meeting your face a few inches from his as you whispered to him how to please you. He circled your clit at the speed you liked, thrusting his fingers in and out, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you helped him find, enjoying the moans that came from your beautiful lips and the way one of your hands squeezed his shoulder with pleasure. 

You kissed him the moment you started to cum on his fingers, your legs even trembled and Kiyoomi had never felt so proud of himself. He kissed you with the same desire, not ceasing to give you pleasure until you asked him to stop because of over stimulation. 

“God… you're so beautiful.” The words came out of their own accord as he looked down at you. 

“You think?” You smirked. 

“Every day.” 

“I never thought you'd see me that way, you know?” Those words were kind of funny coming from you. The girl who was the dream of many. Including his own. 

“Why?” 

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes as you leaned slightly closer. “Because you’re you, Kiyoomi. Cold, composed, and…” You paused, pretending to think. “Kind of scary sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Scary?”

“You know what I mean.” You teased. “You’re just… untouchable. Like, you don’t even notice anyone half the time.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I notice you.”

Your smile faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something real. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said. “You’ve always stood out to me. Even when I tried to act like you didn’t.”

You tilted your head, your expression thoughtful. “Why did you try to hide it?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away for a moment. “Because… I didn't think I'd ever have a chance. I thought you were way out of my league.”

Your laugh was soft, light, and you reached out to gently take his hand. “Kiyoomi, you're ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” You said, patting his bicep lightly. “Because if you had just talked to me sooner, you'd know I've been trying to get your attention for ages.”

His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he tried to process your words. “You… what?”

You grinned, leaning in just enough that your noses almost touched. “I've always liked you, Kiyoomi. I just didn't think you'd ever notice.”

Kiyoomi stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, before his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Guess we're both ridiculous, then.”

“Guess we are.” You murmured, and this time, it was you who closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft and sweet, the total opposite of the words that came out of your mouth next, “Now, please fuck me before I lose my mind.” 

Of course he would, his mind and his cock couldn't hold back any longer. 

“Just. Let. Me. Take– Take these off.” He said between kisses as you wouldn't let go, insisting on keeping his lips on yours with your palms on his cheeks. 

Kiyoomi did his best to remove his jeans and underwear in one go without breaking the kiss, but in the end, he had to do so (albeit unwillingly), when the last of his clothes were on the floor and the two of you were completely naked, to say something he remembered at the last minute. 

“I don't have a condom.”

This was bad, unfortunately Kiyoomi didn't carry any with him right now. The only one he used to carry in his wallet (just in case), he ended up giving it to Atsumu two weeks ago at a party, since at the time, the twin needed more than he did. Now he regretted it. 

You looked at him for a moment, processing his words before saying, “I don't care if you don't care.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, astonishment radiating from his face.

“Very sure.”

Kiyoomi gulped before nodding, nervous about what was coming next. 

He took his cock in his palm, giving himself a few gentle strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. Your hand went to the middle of your bodies to replace his hand with yours and he heard you gasp at the feel of his shaft. 

“God, how— Kiyoomi, are you telling me you're a virgin with a dick like this?”

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a laugh, this was one of the things he liked most about you, how you spoke your mind bluntly. 

“I guess so.”

“Well, I wanted you to put it in in one go. But I guess we'll have to go slow.” You teased, adjusting your hips as you continued to slowly stroke his dick. 

Kiyoomi moaned as he felt your wet entrance meeting his leaking tip. He already felt in heaven and he wasn't even inside you yet. 

He placed both of his arms beside your head, looking down at you as he slowly thrust his hips forward, moving deeper into you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This felt so good. You felt so wet, so hot, so tight that he had to mentally beg his cock not to cum soon, he couldn't embarrass himself like that. 

He pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing casually as he heard you moan as you took him in. “Does it hurt?” He asked, still with half of his dick out of you. 

“A little.” You admitted and that worried Kiyoomi, who was about to pull out, but you spoke first. “But it feels so good, just keep going, it'll fade away.” 

He nodded and continued to enter you until he was completely inside you. He had to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment at the new feeling he was experiencing. 

“How does it feel?” He heard you ask after a minute, your sweet voice filling the silence where only your breaths could be heard. 

“Too good. Fuck. I don't think I'll last long.” He admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but still eager for more. “Can I— fuck—can I move?”

“Yes, please.”

Slowly at first, he began to move his hips, enjoying the feel of your wet walls squeezing him. Kiyoomi couldn't believe he missed out on this pleasure for so long, but he was glad that the one he was experiencing it with for the first time was you. 

He looked down at you, paying attention to your face and appreciating your expressions with adoration radiating from his eyes. How you bit your lower lip, how you opened your lips slightly, how you closed your eyes, how you smiled when you made eye contact. 

You whispered in his ear to go faster, and without a second thought, he complied with your request. He slipped both of his arms under your armpits to hold on tighter and began to thrust so hard that even the bed began to hit the wall. Thank goodness there was a party going on downstairs and the sound of the bed along with the sound of your moans would not be heard by others. 

“Kiyoomi…” You moaned his name, sounding like an angel as you did. Your hands went behind his back, holding him tightly against you and he even felt your nails digging lightly into his skin. He couldn't resist bringing your lips together again, kissing you sloppily as he moved in and out of you. 

He felt you squeeze him as your moans increased before he brought one of his hands to the middle of your bodies, circling messily over your clit, bringing you to the edge. Your legs trembled and a cute moan left your mouth as you came. Kiyoomi also moaned against your lips, you squeezed him so deliciously that he was surprised he didn't explode at that moment, but he knew he wasn't far from it. 

“I'm going to…” The words were lost in his throat as he felt his own orgasm so close. He was panting like crazy, holding you tighter against him as he settled his head in the crook of your neck and his thrusts became more intense. 

“Don't pull out, please.” 

His common sense told him that was irresponsible, but his desire along with how sexy it was to hear you say those words were stronger, because when he least realized it, he was cumming inside you— and it felt good, too good. Nothing compared to the orgasms his hand had so far provided. God, he might get addicted to you after this. 

The room fell into a silence, where only your accelerated breathing and the music muffled by the door could be heard. You both refused to move for a few moments, enjoying the touch of your skin and the vital sounds of each other. 

The dim light slipping through the windows painted faint shadows on the walls, highlighting the way your bodies pressed together. Your skin against his was warm, electric, like a spark neither of you wanted to break. Time felt like it slowed, stretching out as you both stayed perfectly still, caught in the pull of the moment. He could feel your heartbeat under his touch, steady and grounding, blending into the quiet rhythm of your breaths.

“So, how was it?” You broke the silence, stroking his back with your fingertips. 

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a chuckle in the midst of his quickening breath, “Mind blowing.” 

“I agree.”

Kiyoomi propped himself up on his forearms, his eyes meeting your adorable face, and he couldn't help but smile softly. He leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips before settling down beside you. With an easy, natural motion, he slid a hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, with your head resting on his chest, he held you with the kind of tenderness that made the moment feel too perfect to let go of.

As the quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room, Kiyoomi looked down at you, nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back with his fingers, his mind lingering on the softness of the moment. The warmth of your presence and the steady rhythm of your breathing calmed him, but his mind refused to settle.

He couldn't stop replaying the events of the night—the way your presence had lit up the room, the way you spoke with such ease and authenticity, and how natural it felt to be by your side. For someone who usually kept people at a distance, you had somehow bypassed every barrier he'd carefully built.

The thought made his chest tighten, but not with unease. With something new. Something he wanted to hold onto.

He glanced down at you, his heart catching at the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked sleepily. He knew moments like this didn't come often—not for him. And he knew it— he wanted more. 

But would you want that, too?

The doubt lingered for only a second before he pushed it aside. Tonight had been proof enough that whatever this was, it was mutual. And if he didn't take a chance, he'd regret it.

Gathering his courage, he took a breath, his voice low and steady as he broke the silence.

“Hey.” He began, the faintest hint of shyness lacing his tone. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

You smiled, your cheek still resting against his chest. “Not yet. Why?”

“I was thinking…” He hesitated for a beat, then pressed on. “Maybe we could go out. Just the two of us.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah.” He said. “I want to take you somewhere nice. Anywhere you want.”

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I'd love that.”

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, relief flickering across his expression. “Good. I'll make it worth your while.”

“You already are.”

spoiler: sakusa didn’t know it yet, but atsumu will actually be the best man a few years later.

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact. pt2

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fucks you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.