#I cam up with this at midnight

[iiitsnotbase]

Zelda Donovan is asexual, and she came to that realisation at 17, all alone in her room, and she was terrified of it, of course she was, who wouldn't be?

(Terrified, not asexual.)

Her family worshipped the god of ecstasy and lust, and no matter how many times she prayed to them, they didn't grant her feelings of lust or love. Her Fathers, her Uncles, her Cousins, everyone in her family worshipped the same god, and my god, they were all so horny. She sought out someone who she was a similar age too, but who went to Hudol. Her surrogate brother (and actual cousin), Link.

"Zelly! Hey." Link looked up from his book, and looked over at his cousin, who stood at the door, earphone's wrapped around her fist and phone in her hoodie pocket. Her eyes were poofy and red, and her ears were limp. "What's wrong, who do I need to kill?"

"Me?" She half-laughed. "Can we talk?" Link folded the book in half and sat up, and Zelda joined him on the bed, crossing her legs so they sat directly across from them. The invitation to talk was wordless; A subtle agreement between the two youngest in the house they could seek each other out and be welcomed in even if they'd killed someone. "I think god hates me."

"Hm. Why?" Link was not being mean when they asked that, it was simple curiosity, and Zelda knew that. "I don't think god hates you. I think you're one of the favorites."

"I don't. I think that- Getting kicked out of the girl's house, but I mean, we've been through that, this is something different. I have this lack of- Lack of lust. Which is strange because we- Sorry- Worship the god of ecstasy. I don't feel an attraction to- I mean, I do, I love him, but Fabian Seacaster and Kristen Applebees and Tracker O'Shaunessy all have this desire and I just straight up don't. I think I'm broken." Link thought for a moment.

"Ok well god doesn't hate anyone, that's like their whole thing. Sometimes people just don't have that desire. That doesn't mean your broken, and your Dad's won't love you less. I won't love you less. Isn't there an LGBTQ alliance at your school? Why don't you head there tomorrow?" It was Zelda's turn to think. "You are not less. You are not broken. I love you."

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

coffee at midnight

chapter six: Look Up

emily and hotch go on their first date. sort of? not really. but sort of.

read on ao3

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[hollypies]

GUESS WHO GOT CLANGEN RUNNING ON CHROMEBOOK!!! A VERY NON TECH-SAVVY ME!!!! YEEEAHHHH IVE BEEN WANTING TO PLAY FOR SO LONG!! KITTY CAT!

[evansbby]

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,�� you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[jaeyunverse]

kiss cam

pairing: yang jungwon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, frenemies to lovers, high school au, basketball au

wc: 3770

warnings: profanity, mentions of kidnapping

summary: you were fully prepared to spend valentine’s day alone. yang jungwon was fully prepared to blow your mind.

note: i know i’m off season but i still hope y’all enjoy <3

masterlist

It was Valentine’s Week and you were absolutely, extremely, horribly miserable.

You didn’t particularly care about the celebrations, but the feeling of loneliness first began to creep in when the student council appointed a Valentine’s Day Dance committee and made them decorate the entire school. 

There were banners and streamers hanging everywhere. The culinary club was selling heart-shaped cookies and the broadcasting club was busy urging students to get their dance invites every few hours. You wished the PA system would malfunction and they would finally shut up. 

Some boys even had the genius idea to capitalise Valentine’s Day and ask people out on behalf of the students who paid them for their services. They called themselves Cop-Your-Crush. 

Classes were being interrupted all day long. You were witnessing a grand proposal being made multiple times a day. Just today, you had seen three girls being asked out and each proposal had been better than the one before.

Karina got asked out through a song the choir group sang for her. She quite literally burst into tears because her boyfriend, Soobin, still remembered the song they had first kissed to. 

NingNing got asked out when a member of Cop-Your-Crush sweet-talked Mrs. Kim into letting him take over her presentation. He’d prepared a cute montage using the pictures provided to him by her boyfriend. 

Yeji got asked out by the cheerleaders. They had prepared a special cheer for her, courtesy of Heeseung, also a member of Cop-Your-Crush, and his girlfriend, Chaewon, who was cheer captain. They were both Yeji’s best friends and had spared no expense in helping her boyfriend deliver a memorable proposal. 

You thought the entire concept was corny, but it would have been nice to have someone ask you out too. You didn’t even have any expectations. Just a simple Hey, will you be my date to the Valentine’s Dance? would have sufficed. 

Needless to say, you were irritated and cranky. You were debating begging your mom to let you skip school tomorrow. It was the thirteenth of February, so Valentine’s spirit was definitely going to be at an all-time high. 

You slammed your locker door shut. Slumping against it, you clutched your books to your chest and sighed deeply. If only you had the courage to ask your crush to the dance. It was sort of surprising that he still didn’t have a date. 

He was really attractive and really popular. You wondered why—

“Keep moving, dummy,” a voice popped from behind you, and you couldn’t help the groan that left your mouth. Deciding to not acknowledge the person further, you pushed yourself off the locker and turned to leave in the opposite direction. However, they seemed to have different plans for you. Throwing an arm around your neck, Yang Jungwon twisted you around and said, “Class is this way.” 

“Piss off, Yang,” you snapped, trying to not stumble as he dragged you along. 

“Are you coming to the basketball game tonight?” Jungwon inquired.

He wasn’t much taller than you, so when you glanced up at him, you found your faces only a few inches apart. “Why?” 

“We’re playing Riverside High. You know there’s a bet between our schools, right? Losers have to jump in the lake at midnight.” 

“Okay. Let me know if you lose and I’ll meet you there to enjoy your humiliation.” 

Jungwon narrowed his eyes and flicked your forehead. You let out a sound of protest and slapped his hand away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“I think I have better things to do,” you retorted. “I’m supposed to pick up my sister after her soccer practice and drive her to her friend’s house for a sleepover.” 

“That can be taken care of,” he answered immediately. “Riki will do the chauffeuring in your place.” 

You snorted. “No.” 

“C’mon!” Jungwon complained, moving to stand in front of you. You crossed your hands and raised an eyebrow. “I need you at the game tonight.” 

“Why?” 

“Because—” he hesitated— “because we always win when you’re watching from the stands. You’re our lucky charm.”  

Jungwon was making absolutely no sense. The Bears of Eastwood High were one of the best. They didn’t require lucky charms to win games. Besides, you’d never benefited from the so-called fortune Jungwon claimed you possessed. He definitely had an ulterior motive for wanting you at the court tonight. 

“You won the Christmas game,” you pointed out. “I wasn’t there that day. I was with my family at my childhood home.” 

“Well, I thought you were at the game,” Jungwon corrected. “That’s why we won.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. Stepping past his figure blocking your way, you said, “You need to get rid of these superstitions.”  

“Please!” he begged, following after you the way a lost puppy would. “Winning tonight would give us a ticket to regionals! Can’t you let me have this?” 

The desperation in his voice was so evident that you couldn’t help the crack that appeared in your resolve. You weren’t one to believe in luck, but you still carried an Omamori to stay safe. 

You hadn’t exactly been the recipient of any good fortune lately, but your life had been sailing smoothly. Come to think of it, you’d probably subconsciously begun to depend on the charm. 

You were a hypocrite for making fun of Jungwon’s superstitions. 

“Fine,” you relented. “I’ll come. But—” you added immediately upon seeing a wide grin replace the pout on his face— “after I’m done with my chores. I’m not leaving Hyeri with Riki. He crashed his car into a trashcan last week. I was with him. My life flashed in front of my eyes.” 

Jungwon looked slightly amused. “Do you think you might be able to make it before half-time?” 

“Easily.”

“Nice,” he popped. The two of you had arrived at your classroom, so he ruffled your hair and bid you goodbye before making his way towards his friend group. “I owe you one.”

“Yeah, you do,” you muttered to yourself.

You finished dropping your sister earlier than expected. 

Her soccer practice had run short and when you’d checked your watch after seeing her off, you’d realised that the first quarter of the game would be ending in a few minutes. 

You glanced up at the screen displaying the scores as you walked into the gymnasium. 

8-3. Eastwood High in the lead. 

Good luck was a scam. Shaking your head, you searched for your best friend, Eunchae, in the stands. Your eyes stopped on a girl who was aggressively waving her hands in the air. 

You smiled and waved back, making your way to her. 

“I was worried you’d be late,” Eunchae said. 

You hummed. “Hyeri finished her practactice early so I was able to get here quicker. I don’t even know why Jungwon asked me to come. We’re in the lead.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she popped. “Second quarter just started. We should pay attention.” 

You turned to look at the court. While you’d been talking to her, Riverside had scored a 3-pointer. Eastwood was only 2 points ahead now. 

You could hear both schools’ coaches screaming despite the loud noise of the audience. Cringing a little when Mr. Jung blatantly cursed at Jungwon and told him to get his head out of his ass, you decided Eunchae had been right about being better safe than sorry. 

“Timeout!” Riverside High’s coach yelled. “Timeout!” 

The whistle rang and the playing 5 went jogging over to the sidelines. Jungwon’s eye caught yours as he scanned the stands and you waved at him awkwardly. He smiled and waved back, looking rather relieved to see you. 

“You guys are so cute,” Eunchae commented.

You whirled on her. “Excuse me?” 

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, raising her hands defensively. “Jungwon and you would make a really good couple.” 

“What makes you think so?” 

“Other than the fact that he’s completely whipped for you?” Eunchae shrugged. “You’re into him as well. No! Don’t give me that look! I know you are. I’m not fucking blind, Y/N. You say he’s annoying but I don’t see you pushing him away. I think you love the attention he gives you.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling awfully exposed. “You’re delusional.” 

“Am I though?” She raised an eyebrow. “You both are together all the time. You can pretend all you want, but I know your petty and childish banter is just a cover for the horrible amount of flirting that’s hidden underneath.”

“I don’t flirt with him!” 

“He flirts with you and you entertain him! You claim to dislike him but hang out with him at school everyday! An idiot could tell by looking at you how much you enjoy being around him.”

You glared at Eunchae. “I don’t appreciate being psychoanalysed.” 

“You just don’t appreciate the truth.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s stopping you from asking him out to the dance, but I hope you come to your senses. You don’t wanna regret missing out on someone who cares so much for you.”

Thankfully, the whistle rang before you could formulate a reply. The game began again, and you focused your attention on the court. 

It was Eastwood’s way and the ball was in Jungwon’s hand. He aimed high and his eyes set on Jake who was standing at the far end of the court. However, instead of throwing the ball with all his might, he only flicked his wrist. 

The ball bounced between a Riverside player’s legs, and Heeseung, who was waiting a little behind him, grabbed the ball immediately. Instead of dribbling, the boy passed the ball right back to Jungwon. 

Jungwon caught it without stopping and sprinted to Eastwood’s side of the court. Your jaw dropped when you saw him manoeuvre his way through Riverside’s defence so flawlessly. Even though you’d watched him play multiple times, you’d never really been able to comprehend how good he was. 

He’d covered the court by himself without needing to stop or backtrack. It was as if he knew the opponent’s move even before they decided to make it. 

The crowd went wild the moment Jungwon executed the layup effortlessly. The whistle for half-time blew a few moments after and Eunchae turned to you. 

“That was so good!” she squealed. “He could go pro so easily!”

“He could,” you agreed. “He really is very good.”

You had to admit—watching Jungwon in his element made your heart beat at speeds you didn’t even know it was capable of reaching. You convinced yourself it was the adrenaline and the anticipation from watching the game. Your dad never sat still whenever he watched his favourite team play in the World Cup. 

“It’s time for the Kiss Cam.” Eunchae nudged you with her elbow. You turned to look at the big screen hanging from the roof of the gymnasium. The camera focused on Juyeon and Chaeyeon. The couple grinned and pointed at their recording on the screen in excitement before the latter grabbed the former’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. 

You felt a smile form on your face. You’d always thought the two of them were one of the cutest couples in your school. 

The camera then focused on Mr. Hwang, your biology teacher, and Mrs. Jung, your calculus teacher. You hooted and joined everyone else in the stands as they encouraged the two teachers to kiss. 

Whoever had decided the Kiss Cam victims was a genius. Mr. Hwang and Ms. Jung were the youngest faculty members in your school. It was a popular opinion amongst students that they looked cute together. Some even placed bets on whether it would be Mr. Hwang to make the first move or Ms. Jung. 

Naturally, the two of them didn’t kiss. They just smiled in embarrassment and waved at the camera, asking it to focus on someone else instead. 

You waited eagerly to see who the drone would target next. A jolt passed through your body when you saw yourself on the screen. 

Eyes widening, you shook your head and tried to tell them that you were single. The camera didn’t move despite your protests, instead zooming out to include Eunchae in the frame instead. 

You paused. 

Looked at her.

Considered. 

Raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m down if you—”

“To your left, you idiot!” she exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and whirling you around. 

Yang Jungwon was standing in front of you with flowers in his hands. His hair was dripping with sweat and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting, but there was a shy smile on his face.

Your heart stopped as he got down on his knees and the entire gymnasium burst into cheers. 

“Hey,” he popped. 

“Hey,” you answered with much effort. Then added stupidly, “You’re on your knees.” 

“No comment about the flowers?” 

“Not when you’re on your knees for me in front of the entire school.” 

“Oooh, I didn’t know you were so kinky.”

“I didn’t know this was why you begged me to come to the game.” 

He laughed and the sound was like music to your ears. You were nervous. You were rambling. There was no way he was going to ask you to the dance. He wouldn’t be stalling so much if he was. He wouldn’t—

Oh. 

He was giving you time to wrap your head around what was happening. This was clearly intended to be a well-planned surprise meant to catch you completely off-guard. He—

“Yeah, I would’ve been really bummed out if you hadn’t shown up. My efforts would have been for nothing.” 

“So I’m not actually your lucky charm?” 

“Of course, you are. I feel the luckiest when I’m with you.” Your chest swelled with an emotion you couldn’t identify. The gymnasium faded into the background and all you could hear was the sound of your heart thudding against your ribcage and Jungwon’s voice as he asked, 

“Will you make me lucky again by accompanying me to the Valentine’s Dance?” 

The game had ended twenty minutes ago. 

Eastwood had won by 10 points. You’d thought the difference was pretty good but your Mr. Woo, your school’s coach, didn’t seem to share your opinion. He’d claimed that Riverside never even should have been able to get within 15 points of Eastwood.

He’d been especially tense in the second half of the third quarter when the opposition had begun scoring back to back baskets. It had all worked out in the end nonetheless, all thanks to Yang Jungwon, the MVP of the match. 

You still couldn’t believe he’d asked you out and you refused to believe he’d done it in such a grand way. 

He was the definition of a jock and goofed around in school all day long. He was charming, sure, but you’d never known he was capable of pulling off something this big. 

You’d never even suspected he was a romantic. 

Your phone dinged and you unlocked it to check who was texting you. 

[eunchae]: wya? 

[y/n]: parking lot!! are u here? i’m leaning against my car

[eunchae]: noo i’m home :( btw are u still waiting for him?? 

[y/n]: yeah he asked me to but the team hasn’t come out of the gym yet

[eunchae]: yikes i heard mr. woo was hella mad we only won by 10 points.. maybe he’s yelling at the players right now

[y/n]: i’m p sure he is LMFAO

Your fingers hovered over your phone’s screen as you waited for Eunchae to type her reply. However, before she could send it, you felt the device being grabbed from your hand. 

“What the—” you started, but relaxed when you saw Jungwon standing in front of you with an amused expression on his face. “Yang.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Someone could have easily kidnapped you, you know?” 

“We live in the most boring part of the town.” You snorted. “Baek Seung threatening to chop his neighbour’s tree on local TV was the most interesting thing that happened this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be on your guard,” Jungwon said and moved next to you, leaning against the side of your car as well. He was wearing black sweats and a red hoodie. He smelt of cheap soap and his hair was damp, making you realise that he had probably showered. “Besides, Baek Sung actually followed through. We have a real criminal in our ranks.” 

“Didn’t you literally let five sheep loose in our middle school three years ago?” 

“That was just a harmless middle school graduating prank.”

“There’s no such thing as a middle school graduating prank.”

“Tell that to the current 8th graders who are planning their prank. I hear they’re going to stuff the hallway outside the principal’s office with helium balloons so she won’t be able to leave.”  

You stared at him, a small smile playing on your lips. Jungwon’s eyes dropped to your mouth for a millisecond before he looked into your eyes again. 

“Why did you ask me to the dance?” you asked and turned on your side to face him. It was a stupid question but you were genuinely curious. 

Eunchae was right before. Jungwon flirted with you all the time and you always entertained him. You enjoyed the attention he gave you. But if this thing between you was just platonic, and if it was never going to progress into something real, you needed to know now. 

You didn’t want to hope and wait for something that was never going to happen. 

“Sunoo said I was an idiot for not shooting my shot with you,” he replied and turned on his side too. “He threatened to make a move on you if I didn’t get my shit together before Valentine’s Day.” 

You snorted. 

“Oh, also,” Jungwon added. “I really, really like you.” 

You felt a tidal wave of emotions override your senses. Euphoria, nervousness, breathlessness, giddiness, uncertainty and this inexplicable urge to squeal washed over you. 

Your heart went haywire inside your chest when Jungwon leaned closer to you and dipped his head so that his face was right in front of yours. 

“You’re blushing,” he whispered. 

You squeaked and buried your face in your hands. He grabbed your wrists and gently moved them out of the way. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I think that would be a health hazard,” you croaked, looking at anywhere but him. “My heart is beating concerningly fast right now. What if I drop dead?” 

“I can do CPR.” 

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a small smile. Your heart beat slowed down and you began feeling at ease. You wondered if Jungwon could tell that this was the first time someone had confessed to you. 

The entire concept of dating and being in a relationship was foreign to you. You doubted Jungwon had much experience in the field himself since he’d only had one girlfriend in kindergarten, but he seemed confident. 

You trusted him to take over the wheel and guide you through the strange waters of love. 

“Okay,” you breathed and closed your eyes. “Kiss me.” 

His hands cupped your cheeks, his soft lips brushing against yours. You sucked in a breath and just stood there, not really knowing what to do. 

Your hands itched to grab onto something, so you shifted closer to Jungwon and clutched the front of his hoodie in your fists. 

He smiled against your mouth as you rose on your toes and tilted your head to the side. 

But then you realised something and hastily broke the kiss. Jungwon stared at you in confusion, but before he could ask what was wrong, you blurted, “I like you too.” 

There was a pause. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so you clarified, “I thought I should make that clear. I mean, you confessed but I didn’t confess back even though I feel the same way and what if you thought I wasn’t into you. I am into you, by the way. I’ve been crushing on you since forever but I never knew how to say it—” 

Jungwon swooped in for a second kiss and you melted in his arms. You could get used to the feeling of his lips on yours. They fit together perfectly.  

“You are so cute.” He giggled after detaching his mouth from yours. Resting his forehead against yours, he continued, “Eunchae told me last week. She urged me to confess because she knew your stubbornness would never allow you to make the move.” 

“What?” you exclaimed, jerking away from him. “Where’s my phone? Give me my damn phone, Yang!” 

He grabbed arms before you could lunge at him and search him for your device. “Relax!”

“I’m going to kill her!” 

“Why?!” 

“Because—” you sputtered, struggling to get out of his grip— “because it’s embarrassing! I was pretending to not like you but you knew I was crushing on you the entire time!” 

“It’s not embarrassing!” Jungwon said. “It’s normal—Y/N stop!” 

You let your body fall limp in his arms. “I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“You’re seriously not going to let Eunchae’s nosiness stop us from having our first date, are you?”  

“What?” you asked and moved out of his grip.

He shrugged and shoved his hands into pockets. “It’s nothing special. I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for some food.” 

“Oh,” you replied blankly. “Don’t you have a celebratory dinner with your team though?” 

“I can ditch them.”  

“You shouldn’t.” 

“Let me correct myself: I already ditched them. I want to spend tonight and celebrate with you.” 

Your heart swelled with happiness. “Really?” When was the last time someone outside of your parents prioritised you? You genuinely couldn’t remember. 

“Of course. Do you wanna get some McDonald’s?”

You nodded, but before he could make his way to the passenger’s seat of your car, you said, “Just so you know, I feel the luckiest when I’m with you too.” 

Yang Jungwon kissed you for the third time, and by no means was it the last, or even close to the last one you shared that day.  

[yournightmary]

more streamer! ellie hcs? or maybe college roommate! ellie pls🙏❤️

content warning:: modern!AU, that’s literally it

AN:: I wanted to combine those things but I actually have no idea how college works so… tried my best:) Really short but I had no idea what else to add.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie started streaming the first day of college. She thought that if already she plays video games might as well stream it and maybe make some money.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She literally woke up in the morning, went to classes that she didn’t understand, then to her shitty work at some convenience store and then, when she was practically dead, she would stream.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first it was hard to get any viewers that would stay and actually watch, since she streamed around midnight- maybe even later. But someone posted a clip from her stream on tik tok and she kinda blew up? Like not really, but started getting enough money to quit her job.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Definitely a faceless streamer- she was scared that someone from her classes would recognize her and make fun of her. And because she talked shit about almost everyone on campus (not dropping names, she’s not that stupid)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s had a GIANT crush on you since the first day when she stumbled into you on campus. It was literally like a scene in a movie, your books fell to the ground and she helped you pick them up. But before she could introduce herself or do anything, you were already gone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Talks about you to her chat. Has like a stupid nickname for you (because she doesn’t know your real name). Literally tells them everything, where she saw you that day, what you were wearing- and if you smiled at her or something like that? Oh god, that’s all she’s yapping about on stream.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ One time she was sitting in class behind some random guy she didn’t know and she peeked over his shoulder, just because she was bored, only to see him watching some clips of her stream on tik tok. She actually went MIA and didn’t stream for a good week or two because she was too scared of being recognized.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ After that she became a lot more careful about what she’s saying on stream. Stopped talking about specific people (except you), about her classes and professors.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Always gets so awkward and nervous when someone asks what she does for work. If she was too vague it sounded weird but if she was too specific people could find her account. So she chooses the first option and just says she does stuff in the internet (almost everyone who asked thought she does OF or something like that)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ A good few months passed before she finally got the balls to talk to you (after getting bullied by her chat). It all went well, surprisingly to her… until you asked if she’s a streamer. That girl literally had tears of anxiety in her eyes!! But you told her that you think she’s really funny and you watch her in your free time and she calmed down.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ She kinda forgot about the fact that she yaps about you every time she streams… you didn’t remind her for her own good. Definitely stopped mentioning you after she found out you watch her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Don’t worry, she went back to it once you started dating:)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Invites you to sit with her when she streams, since she doesn’t have a face cam. Or maybe even streams some stupid multiplayer games with you.

I might make something special for halloween but no promises 😈

[perfctvelvet]

can you do sabrina carpenter!!

Happy Fucking New Year; Sabrina Carpenter/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, alcohol mention, semi-public (hooking-up in the bathroom of some rich person's house), making out, oral sex

No one wanted to be alone this New Years and you were no exception. The only problem was that your friend, the one who happens to the social butterfly brought you to a party where you don't know anyone here besides her. Everyone was dressed to the nines; shimmering dresses with make up to match and expensive suits. Having a friend who works in PR was an unexpected perk in her life, but having a friend who works in PR means when you're out they're always in networking mode. Coming here, to some random person's mega-mansion, was thrilling at first but the shine was beginning to dull immediately.

You had lost your friend somewhere in the fray of the fancy just less than an hour before midnight. Many people were here with partners, spouses, and lovers, and to you it seemed like you and your friend were the only single ones. You didn't let it get to you because you had her, but now she was gone. All you had was your too-small purse and a vodka soda you weren't a big fan of.

Just as the night couldn't get more painful, someone bumps into you. There was no love lost for the beverage that you spilled but now it was all over your dress. You may have been feeling alone, but your dress was the only thing you had. You got it one random day in the summer at the encouragement of your friend that she will give you a reason to wear it. You felt confident walking out of the car tonight and into the party. That was only two hours ago and oh how everything seemed to cave in.

"Fuck! I'm so, so sorry!"

This woman who bumped into you sounded sincere in her apologies. At first you thought you were being mocked, but the way she tried to wipe off your dress before it could stain seemed too real.

"I-It's okay."

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at her. Instead you were looking around you at the people who were beginning to look at the commotion. You were hoping to lock eyes with your friend so she could rescue you, but she was still nowhere to be found.

"Ugh! C'mon!"

Before you could register what was going on, you were being dragged away by the woman who ruined your dress. You were too relieved by being saved from the embarrassment to make a fuss. She lead you to one of the many guests bathroom in the house. She was bold, shutting the door behind you two and almost forcing you to sit on the counter. She grabbed one of the fancy, embroidered towels and wets it to continue her efforts to save your dress. Even though you appreciated her eagerness to fix her mistake, you can't help but be enamored and a little amused by the situation.

"It was just a vodka soda. Don't worry, it's not going to stain my dress."

It seems as if your voice is what gets to her. She slowly stops frantically wiping off the parts of your dress that is covered in vodka and looks up at you. She's stunning, so much so that you begin to lose your confidence.

"I hope I didn't take you away from whoever you cam here with." She finally puts the towel down and you get to hear her voice in a more relaxed state.

"No, no, I just came with a friend, but I lost her somewhere so I was just kind of by myself." You felt like a loser saying that out loud, but something lights up in the stranger's eyes at your confession.

"Glad I'm not the only one here feeling a little dejected."

"What do you mean?"

She points to the spot next to you, gesturing if she could sit beside you. There was plenty of space on the counter and she didn't have to ask, but you made space for her anyway.

"What was supposed to be a girls' night New Years Eve get together turned into us coming here, and just like you I have no clue where my friends with."

It wouldn't be shocking to either of them if their friends found someone gorgeous and well-off to talk to, but you were sure your friend was more concerned with making connections than the imminent countdown to the new year. You empathized with this woman, but still couldn't get over the shock that someone who looks like her was feeling the same loneliness tonight.

"I guess that's a common theme tonight. It's never really happened before so I think that's why it stings so much. I'm Y/n by the way."

"Sabrina," she sticks her hand out for you to take which you do. You two shake hands for a few seconds before breaking away. You felt like you had made a new friend tonight and you were a little proud of yourself. You were never the most sociable one in the room, so it's fitting that your main way of meeting new people is through an embarrassing moment.

"You said you came here with a friend? Just one? Are they a friend or a friend."

"Just a friend. We were roommates one year in college and I reached out to her when I moved out here to LA. She's always been primed for this kind of life, not me, so I needed her to guide me through the upsides and downs of living here."

"There are a lot of ups, like being invited to some rich ass dude's New Years Eve party. The downs would be the perpetual loneliness that seems like a requirement."

"I take it you've been in LA for years?"

"Almost two decades now. Feels like it's been a life time."

"Do you like it? I've only been here for two years and I'm still figuring out how I feel about it."

"Well, like you said, it has it's ups and downs. Some times there are more downs than ups, and vice versa. I would say right now that sitting in the bathroom of a boring party with a pretty girl who is being kind to me after I fucked up her dress is one of the ups."

You break eye contact with her to spare yourself the embarrassment. You feel a heat creep up your neck and beat you right in the face. You never learned how to take a compliment without completely crumbling. You already found Sabrina to be interesting and pretty, but now your heart was starting to beat out of your chest.

"And I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I'm kind of glad I literally ran into you. I saw you earlier in the party and I couldn't stop staring at you. I hope I don't sound like a creep."

"No, not at all! I'm just shocked to say the least."

What snapped you out of your shock was the sound of people cheering and getting rowdy outside of the bathroom. At first you feared someone was going to come in, ruining your solace. But then Sabrina checks her phone and sees that it's almost midnight.

"Two more minutes then it's 2024. I'll be honest, Y/n, I didn't expect to spend my last minutes of 2023 like this. I sort of feel like a klutz."

"Don't be sorry. Like I said my dress is fine, just a little sticky, but one wash it'll be alright."

The both of you end up getting distracted by the rowdiness outside the door. You were half tempted to get up and join them just to watch everyone ring in the New Year together, but you stay put. You notice how Sabrina isn't budging and you get the impression that she wants to stay with you in her last moments of 2023. Soon the start the countdown.

"10...9...8...7..."

In just a few seconds you feel fingers weave through yours and Sabrina grabbing your face. You let her control your body, turning your head to face her.

"6...5...4..."

It takes just seconds for your heart to flutter with an emotion you haven't felt in a long time.

"3...2...1...Happy New Year!"

Sabrina's lips meet yours on the very first syllable of "happy." For the first time in years you genuinely felt the meaning.

At first it felt innocent, just two lonely souls filling the void together, but Sabrina didn't want to pull away. She kissed you deeper, harder. The lust was radiating off of her and it was overwhelming. The last way you expected to bring in the new year was a bathroom hook-up, but surprisingly you weren't turned off to the idea. No one has ever come on this strong to you before and being in LA you were beginning to think you were a love repellant. This kiss left your breathless and starving for more. You grab onto Sabrina, unintentionally laying one hand on her breast in the process. Neither of you seemed to care as your tongues bumped against each other's. It was becoming a little sloppy, with Sabrina taking you there, but you enjoyed it. There is a hint of lemon on her tongue and you wondered why type of drinks a girl like Sabrina would drink. She was bold, yet refreshing.

Sabrina pulls away, panting and her lipstick smudged. She's looks a little messy now but she smiles regardless. She's so happy that you're receptive to her touch and that you seemed to enjoy the kiss too.

"Was that too much?" She wipes the edges of her mouth.

"I think we're beyond the point of worrying about what's too much now."

You're the one to lean in this time. You continue what Sabrina started, the blonde leaning into this time until she wraps her arms around your neck. You were at the point of no return and you wouldn't dare turn back. You wanted more; you wanted her.

"Do you think you can be quiet?" You ask her between kisses?

She hums affirmatively against your lips before you break the kiss. She moans breathlessly when your lips land on her neck. So much for being quiet because her moan fills the room. Of course the party outside still raged on as being in a whole new year put a new life into the party. The sound of the bass of the music thumped against the walls, but nothing could overtake the sound of Sabrina's sweet moans. You finally get between her legs, your knees pressed into the soft rug. She places her legs on your shoulders and you come face to face with her pussy. It didn't surprise you, but seeing her without panties made your face grow hot.

"I hope you don't mind, I left them at home," she says with a salacious tone.

You didn't mind at all, you were happy to have easier access to her wet pussy. You can't go another minute without it seeing what she tastes like. Sabrina whines when your face disappears between her legs under her dress. She pulls it up and catches the very moment your tongue meets her dripping sex. She moans so loud that she has to put her own hand over her mouth. You lick and lick and lick and somehow she's able to keep herself from screaming out in pleasure. It was like you knew her body and knew what buttons to press. She feels a rush run through her and she's on cloud nine. Never has a stranger made her so happy and feels so good. She moves her hand from her mouth and promises herself she'll be good and keep as quiet as possible. She knuckles turn white as she grips the edge of the counter.

"Oh Y/n that feels so fucking good," she whines. "I've been thinking about this all night."

The thought of someone being so turned on by you that they fantasized about it after seeing you once was astounding. You were shocked to have that power over someone, especially over someone so beautiful. You felt lucky, lucky to be invited here (the party and between Sabrina's legs). You pull away from her pussy and rub her clit.

"Did you want me so bad that you spilled a drink on me?"

Sabrina doesn't answer, just moans as she throws her head back in pleasure. You stop rubbing her clit to insert a finger into her pussy. When she feels your tongue back on her clit paired with the finger inside of her she almost cums. But she wants to savor the taste, feel this forever. She thinks she's strong enough to hold herself back, but your fingers are stronger than her will. You insert another one into her and her walls wrap warmly and tightly around the two. Your hitting the spot that makes her legs shake. Sabrina desperately wants to cry out loud, but she wouldn't dare risk getting caught and letting the moment end. She's so so close, tettering on that blissful edge. You kiss her inner thigh not once, or twice, but a few times. It makes her legs shake. She forgets about trying to hold back when she feels the 5th kiss pressed to her thigh.

She fears that you might get turned off by how hard she cums, but you enjoy it very much. She closes her eyes, bites her lip, and tosses her head back in ecstasy. A tear runs down her rosy cheek too. Her make-up is probably too fucked up for saving, but no one is going to care, so neither does she.

"Earth to Sabrina...you here with me?" You tease her. You're not sure if she likes that, but she just let you eat her out and finger, a little teasing is harmless in comparison.

She opens her eyes a few seconds later and a sweet, relaxed smile forms on her face.

"People are probably looking for us," you say to her when she finally looks down at you.

"Let them look."

[diamond-champagne]

7. Do You Miss Me?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: None that I know of but please let me know!

a/n: We're kind of approaching the end so please give me requests on what I should write next! Thanks for the love, besties <3 It means more than yous know!

New Years Eve

The balloons and confetti fill the air while bottles of booze litter the table. The UConn Womens’ Basketball team; along with the rest of the UConn athletes, have taken their New Year's festivities to a club. It’s loud and packed. It makes the perfect distraction which is what Azzi needs. 

After her nauseating conversation with Caroline, the curly-haired girl was left to face the truth about her relationship with Paige. It’s fragile but teetering. Every interaction pushes it closer to being destroyed; yet it sits on edge, slightly wobbly, but intact. Azzi knows she’s to blame for the current state of their friendship. Though they’ve had rough patches, she never thought it would get this bad. The pair haven’t had a real conversation in weeks; both doing everything they could to avoid the other. In the three conversations they have had, they argue. It’s exhausting, but Azzi is grateful for the disagreements. It means that there’s still some fight left in Paige. Some fight left for them.

Despite how happy she is to be fighting with the blonde, she wishes that they were making up more. The brown-eyed girl has missed her counterpart over the last month. The two don’t have designated time to spend together anymore, don’t go out of their way to borrow the other’s clothes, or simply just cuddle. Azzi misses Paige. It’s not a new concept as their entire friendship is based on missing each other but Azzi is desperate to have the blue-eyed girl near her. She misses the presence of her best friend more than anything. 

She wonders if Paige misses her too. 

Though she imagines that the blonde-haired girl doesn’t because across the club, Paige is making her way to Cameron. Azzi watches as the football player notices the blonde making her way to him. Azzi watches as she slips into the space next to him; pressing her side into his as his arm snakes around her shoulders protectively.

It’s a nauseating sight that results in Azzi throwing back her shot and quickly ordering another one. And another one. And another one. 

“You should slow down,” Caroline says as she sits down next to Azzi.​​ The sentiment, while appreciated, does nothing to deter the curly-haired girl from ordering another shot. She’s being irresponsible, this much she knows, but she needs to forget. She needs to not feel. “It’s New Years Eve. I’m allowed to get drunk.” the girl grumbles out. It’s hard over the music but her teammate hears every word. “You are,” Caroline agrees, “But New Years isn’t why you’re sitting at the bar, drinking alone.”

Azzi turns to face the couple on the other side of the club. She watches as they talk to one of the football player’s teammates. Paige laughs at something and throws her head back. Azzi wonders if Cam loves that sound the way she does. Or does he prefer her giggle that she probably lets out when they engage in banter? 

These thoughts and more occupy the curly-haired girl’s mind more than she’d care to admit. The thoughts alone are suffocating but to watch is like dying a thousand deaths. So Azzi doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, she downs her shot before heading to the floor to dance. The younger girl isn’t sure how long. All she knows is that Waka Flocka turned into Pitbull which turned into Lady Gaga. It doesn’t matter though, because Paige is still connected at the hip to Cam, and Azzi still wishes that was her instead. 

-

Azzi is drunk. The younger girl is standing in the club bathroom with 30 minutes to midnight trying to get herself together. She came in to use the bathroom but that proved to be difficult when she couldn’t even stand straight. The basketball player eventually got that much figured out but couldn’t really do much else besides hold onto the sink for balance. 

The brown-haired girl had just about gotten a hold on herself when a group of girls walk in. Two immediately head towards the big mirror by the sink Azzi is currently occupying. The other two girls head into the stalls but the conversation between the group never falters; which is the only reason Azzi is able identify one the girls as Riley. In fact, the volleyball player is looking at her through the mirror. 

Azzi is drunk but she isn’t drunk enough for this. She supposes she can’t be surprised. Riley is a volleyball player and most of the UConn athletes are at this club tonight. Still, seeing your ex that broke up with you because of your feelings for your best friend who you still aren’t with is very uncomfortable. Talking to them even more so.

“Hi, Az-”

“Hey, Rile-”

They both start but before laughing. The tensitiy in the air lessens and the athletes watch as the other’s body relaxes. Suddenly, talking to each other isn’t that bad but then again, it could be the alcohol. 

“How are you?” Azzi asks.

“I’m good. How are you? How’s Paige?” Riley replies. The answer must reveal itself on Azzi’s face though, because the volleyball player’s eyes widen before she snaps her head in the direction of the taller girl. “You aren’t together?”

The basketball player shakes her head no and Riley’s eyes widen even more. “Listen, I know I said a lot of things that night but I never would have imagined that you two didn’t figure it out.” Azzi laughs in response. “Well, it doesn’t help that she asked if I have feelings for her and I walked out of her apartment.” The statement earns her a slap on the arm and a scolding from the shorter athlete next to her. 

“Why would you do that? It’s obvious that you do!”

“I’m scared,” Azzi starts. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that allows her to be this open because her next words have never been spoken. “I’m fucking terrifed of loving her. I’m terrified of her loving me. Every single time I look into her eyes, she’s got these intense emotions pooling in them and I don’t know how to handle that. Paige looks at me like I’m her forever. She looks at melike I can hang the stars and the moon. Fuck, she’s just so intense and sometimes I worry about it being too much. Sometimes I worry about being too little.” 

“You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief.” Riley states. She says it even toned and softly as if all three of those words were not insults of some kind. 

“Excuse me?” Azzi exclaims. The insult clearly catching her off guard. 

“It’s the truth,” Riley shrugs. “You’re a coward, a liar, and a thief. Until you begin to work on that, allowing yourself to be happy will be hard. You’re self sabotaging and you don’t even know it.”

The basketball player isn’t exactly sure how to respond. She watches as her ex moves toward the bathroom door before turning around.

“Once you figure it out, I hope you get everything you want.” and then she’s out the door. Azzi shakes her head and checks her phone for the time. She tries not to give what Riley said another thought, at least not while she’s this intoxicated. 

There’s five minutes until midnight. 

Azzi walks out of the bathroom and heads towards the section occupied by her teammates, and Cam. A bitter feeling creeps up Azzi’s throat and invades her senses. Would Paige kiss him at midnight? It’s a thought that produces sickening images in the younger girls’ mind. Though as she reaches the section, all she can hear is her ex’s voice in the back of her mind.

I hope you get everything you want.

While she isn’t sober enough to work out whatever Riley thinks she needs to, Azzi can accept that she should after whatever she wants. It is a new year afterall. 

The words repeat themselves as the girls flood the floor along with the other athletes to start the countdown. Azzi can feel the tequila and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she watches Paige separate herself from the football player to be with their friends. 

10

Should she do it? Azzi thinks she passes through the club to get to Paige.

9

Maybe she shouldn’t. She continues walking anyway.

8

Coward. Azzi gets closer.

7

Liar. And closer.

6

I hope you get everything you want this year. 

5

They’re standing face to face.

4

Azzi pulls Paige closer.

3

“What are you doing?” Paige exclaimed

2

“Getting everything I want” 

1

Happy New Year!

Azzi crashes her lips onto Paige.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[seraphdreams]

NINTENDHOE! — cyber sex collab.

STARRING. stepbro!shinichiro sano / camgirl!reader.

CONTAINS. stepcest, smut, mutual masturbation, phone sex, praise, pervy yet smitten shin + eighteen plus only.

WORD COUNT. 1.6k

NOTES. this is a part of @fuwushiguro ‘s cyber sex collab , i hope u enjoy ! i’m so very into this stepbro shinichiro lore.

“Fuck, I missed it..”

Shinichiro looked down at his watch, the numbers displayed to him letting him know it was way past midnight. He had practically spent all day in his shop repairing one of the bikes his best friend, Wakasa, had managed to break down, and if working overnight wasn’t the issue, it was definitely the fact that he missed his favorite camgirl’s stream—You, his adorable stepsister.

He had known you were camming for a while, and if you were to ever find out all the perverse things he’d done when it came to you, he’d know that you’d definitely leave his life completely. And he can’t have that. Horniness aside, Shin loves you more than anything, he wouldn’t dare risk vexing his little sister.

An exasperated sigh is let out from Shinichiro as he switches his kneeled position to standing up fully, hovering over the motorcycle while loosening the buttons of his overalls so that the fabric fell comfortably around his waist. Years of fighting on the side aided Shin in his lean physique, toned arms covered in a thin sheen of sweat as his torso is clad with a white tank top, and a singular silver chain around his neck.

He looks over the bike, making sure he mended all that needed to be done before pressing his foot to the gas and starting up the engine.

Perfect. He was finally done and able to go back home to see you. If he was lucky, he’d even get to watch the replay of your previous livestream—although nothing was better than seeing, and hearing you, live.

Just as he turned his back to make way to the door, he’s greeted with the forgotten sight of another motorcycle. What the fuck? How could it have slipped his mind that he had to maintenance check Wakasa’s other bike before a certain time tomorrow morning? “The shit I do for that fucker.”

Before fatigue could swallow him whole, he seats himself on one of the chairs, pulling out his phone and hovering over the facetime button with your name above it. What type of big brother would he be if he didn’t check in on his sister? He taps the screen and allows it to ring.

“Hello?”

The low tone of your voice instantly eases the stress in Shinichiro’s body, feeling as if he’d just taken the strongest dose of any painkiller.

You searched for a place to set your phone down so that he could see your face, and you settled for the dresser. You pace backwards a bit, making sure your whole body fits into the frame of the camera as you waved with an endearing smile.

“Hey,” Shinichiro starts. “Just lettin’ you know I’m gonna be stuck at the shop for a little.. Do you need anything?” He takes in your appearance as you shake your head, the little white towel wrapped around your chest and tautly hugged the plush of your thighs egging on his confusion, much more—His arousal. “Whatcha up to? You’re all covered up.” He smiles, turning his head to look away, his charming side profile filling your screen.

“Was just in the shower, that’s all.” Your response urged a chuckle from him. That’s all? It’s adorable how you manage to still be so innocent for him as if your fingers weren’t lodged deep in your cunt for your followers to see just 15 minutes before.

Shinichiro takes the pack of cigarettes from his overall pocket, taking one out and lighting it. He makes sure to hold it between his teeth after one slow drag.

“You’d better get dressed then.” He doesn’t miss the way you reach over for your phone as if you were about to hang up, catching you before you get too far. “You can change on the phone. I’ll close my eyes—Won’t look at all.”

He does as he promises, closing his eyes to gain your trust and once you feel as though he means it, you drop your towel, completely bare for him. You turn away in search of your moisturizer, squeezing some out on your palm and working it gently onto your skin. Within minutes you forget that Shinichiro is still on the phone, his promise broken unbeknownst to you as the cigarette barely hangs from his mouth, his eyes on your body as you knead your tits.

It’s a mindless behavior when you bend over to apply lotion to your legs, Shinichiro having to stop himself from thinking—or doing, anything rash.

But the devil on his shoulder gets the best of him and he’s slowly unbuttoning the first few buttons of his bottoms, his hand dipping under the band of his briefs to whip out his cock. How long has he been hard? It wouldn’t matter anyway with the way it leaks and beads down the shaft. He wraps his hand around the base, slowly stroking as he watches how you run your hands over your body a second time, much slower than the first.

You have to be teasing, allowing your hands to massage every inch of your body while you try and find something to throw on. You’re bent over in front of your dresser, a peek of your pussy exhibited for your big brother.

The cigarette that was languidly hanging from his lips fell beside him on the ground, effectively putting itself out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why were you like this?

The stroking pace of his rigid length gradually quickens, the only thought surging through his corrupt mind being the image of you riding his face, whining out for your big brother to slow down as you would continually make a mess of it while he’d take care of you in just the way you need. He knew you felt stagnant when it came to camming. He could see it in those once sparkling eyes of yours that you wanted more. You didn’t need a piece of silicone, and your fingers could barely go in deep enough—You needed him, your big brother.

Caught up in his thoughts, Shin inadvertently lets a few groans slip, his nose scrunched in pleasure and head rolled back as his adams apple bobbed with every profanity growled under his breath. “Fuck, Y/N.. Y’don’t know what you do to me.”

The slick noises emitted from your phone’s speaker turn your attention back to him. Is he…?

In any case, you’d be revolted, yet you can’t find it in yourself to harness that feeling, instead growing aroused at how pretty Shinichiro looked while pleasuring himself. You sat back on your bed mesmerized and your mind wandered to multiple different scenarios with your big brother placed at the forefront. What it would be like to kiss him, maybe get on your knees for him. How he’d look hovering above you with his chain dangling in your face while he’s balls deep in your cunt, the girth of his cock causing him to hit every spot so effortlessly. Before you knew it, your own hands found their way back to your sensitive heat.

If it weren’t for the whimpers you let out while pleasuring your clit, Shin would’ve forgotten he was on the phone. Your choked up mewls snap his focus back to you with your legs spread in front of the camera and free hand pinching your pert nipples.

Am I fucking dreaming? He thinks to himself, eyes gone wide comically while he studies you just as he would when watching your nightly streams. Instead your expression is different. It’s not the same glazed-over emotionless pout that fools in your comments would mistake for genuine satisfaction. It was different, eyes squeezed shut with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and sweet moans he had never heard before flowing through his ears.

“N-Need you so bad, Shin.” Mindless babbles left your lips, the sentence that your smitten big brother had been waiting to hear. If only you knew how bad he needed you; How no other girl seemed to satiate his everlasting lust like you do. You’re an angel—His angel.

Just watching you causes his hand to involuntarily continue stroking his cock, this time at the same pace as the fingers that dip in and out of your sweet cunt. He squeezes the tautly at the tip, imagining it’s your heat that’s getting him off, the satisfying drag of the warmth of his little sister pulling him closer to the edge with how good she feels.

You feel as though your senses are heightened with the way he watches you, your fingers slowing down in pace as you feel your orgasm build up prematurely. “Keep—Keep going, just like that, pretty..” Shin rasps under his breath, eyes lidded at the sight of you as if he took notice of your faltering pace. “Almost there, baby. Keep going for me.”

Your heart flutters immensely with no sign of ever ending, his utterances fueling you to pump your fingers harder inside you. Just moments after, you’re releasing, moaning softly while riding out your high.

Unexpectedly at the sight of your pretty orgasm, Shin paints his hand in the creamy white of his seed, holding his cock at the base while resting against his chair, chest heaving as if he were in a marathon. “S-Shin-nii..” Your soft voice calls out. His attention is placed back on you, a lazy grin on his features. “Hm?”

“You’re so hot.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end of the line from him. “Oh lil’ sis, you’re hotter.” His shifting comes to an end. “‘m gonna, uh, clean up my little mess and get back to work..”

You nod your head as he talks.

“Maybe I can be in your stream tomorrow night?”

reblogs, likes n comments r greatly appreciated !

[domjaehyun]

PL4YG1RL IS LIVE…

“are you lonely? are you stressed out? you deserve some fun. get your headphones, lock up the bedroom door, log on.” — PL4YG1RL, LOLO ZOUAÏ 

PAIRING(S). na jaemin x fem!reader GENRE(S). thriller/suspense, yandere, smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.6k WARNINGS. noncon, stalking, kidnapping, violence, mentions of blood, explicit smut (protected sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, oral (receiving), nipple play (receiving), masturbation (male & female), defiling of a stuffed animal, fingering, i think that’s it)  SUMMARY. you’re an up-and-coming camgirl, and na jaemin is a loyal supporter of your work–that is, until jaemin decides to take things to the next level.  PLAYLIST. PL4YG1RL - Lolo Zouaï, ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz, ALL UP IN YOUR MIND - Beyoncé, Can I - Kehlani, Menace - Dounia

NOTES. hello… don’t crucify me. this is for halloween :) *insert obligatory “i don’t think these people are actually like this” statement that will protect me from anon hate* *insert compulsory “read the warnings and don’t come for me about content i warned you about” statement that will also protect me from anon hate*

if you read this fic, you assume full responsibility for consuming the content below, whether you read the warnings or not.

Saturday night, and Jaemin has nothing to do.

He sends a text to his group chat to see what they're up to before remembering it’s well past midnight. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jaemin pulls his laptop toward his body and onto his stomach. His fingers move of their own accord, typing in his favorite adult entertainment website and waiting as it loads. 

Index and middle fingers lazily scrolling through the copious amounts of explicit videos, Jaemin sighs heavily before an ad for a cam girl website catches his eye. A moment of hesitation, then a click takes him to the webpage, the background a lovely shade of pink as all the elements of the page load.

Jaemin is met with thumbnails of pretty girls in various states of undress, but no one is scratching the itch he has which is building up inside of him. A banner drops down from the top of the screen, attracting Jaemin’s attention.

PrettyKitty345 is now live.

Out of curiosity, he clicks, and the screen buffers for a moment before loading up a pretty girl with dark brown hair gazing seductively into the camera. Jaemin lingers for a moment until she speaks, her voice a perfect match for the sultry look she’s giving the viewers. 

Jaemin’s not into that, really. He likes them a little less deliberate, more effortlessly pretty. He clicks away and another banner comes down as if enticing Jaemin to stay on the website just a bit longer.

FunBunny is now live.

Another curious click brings Jaemin to the live feed of another pretty girl with white bunny ears on, whose voice is high and soft, a blatant contrast to PrettyKitty345 from earlier. Her performance is a bit too…childlike for Jaemin’s taste, discomfort swirling in his belly as he clicks away. 

PL4YG1RL is now live.

Jaemin sighs. He clicks—out of boredom, he tells himself—to enter the live feed. The second the screen finishes loading, Jaemin freezes in surprise.

You are quite literally the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Sitting up slowly, Jaemin moves the laptop to rest between his legs as he studies your setup carefully.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Jaemin whispers, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Where did you come from?”

You’re sitting on your heels on your bed, wearing a lacy pink slip dress and a sweet, kind expression. Jaemin can practically feel the warmth radiating from your gaze, and he wets his lips as he sits forward, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, everyone,” you say, and Jaemin’s eyes squeeze shut as he groans in ecstasy.

You’re perfect. Your voice is every bit as lovely as you look, and there’s something so genuine about the way you carry yourself on camera that has Jaemin falling rapidly.

“How is everyone doing? Have you all had a good day today?” you ask, and Jaemin scrambles to reply, a window popping up that blocks the chat. 

“‘You will need an account to participate in the live chat’—oh, fuck.” Jaemin mumbles, opening a new window and quickly signing up with the website. It asks for a payment option so you can send tips, so Jaemin brings his laptop with him to his coat pocket in the foyer of his house, fumbling single handedly with taking out his wallet and pulling out a card.

Meanwhile, you’re reading through the responses coming in from the chat. “You’ve had a bad day, NiceGuy19? I’m sorry to hear that,” you frown and Jaemin’s heart clenches at how cute you are. He finishes inputting his credit card information and the window preventing him from typing in the chat box disappears.

NaJaem13: had a good day

NaJaem13: was feeling kinda bored though

He makes his way back to his bedroom, climbing onto his bed and setting the laptop back down. 

“NaJaem13, you’re bored? I’m kinda bored, too.” you hum, and Jaemin feels a fluttering in his chest. “Maybe we could entertain each other,” you propose, a playful smile curling your lips, and Jaemin decides in that exact moment that he’s sticking around in this stream until it’s over.

NaJaem13: sounds good :)

Jaemin watches, content, as you make conversation with other patrons, and when you start playing soft R&B music in the background and swaying to the music with a pleasant smile, tips start to come in. 

First it’s 20 tokens, which, Jaemin quickly searches up, is barely anything. Your eyes light up, however, and you thank the tipper gratefully.

Next comes 50 tokens, and it’s almost as if it’s a competition between the bidders, Jaemin watching in silent awe as the numbers increase to 75, 100, 150, 200– You can barely thank the donors quickly enough, a delighted laugh tumbling off your tongue that has Jaemin’s heart soaring.

Jaemin thanks his lucky stars that he just got paid this Thursday, and with a few clicks of his trackpad, he tips you 350 tokens.

“Thank you so much, NaJaem13!” You smile widely, bouncing slightly in place with excitement. Jaemin’s heart clenches; he’d do anything for that smile.

NiceGuy19: how much to take your dress off? 

Jaemin can’t help but bristle at how forward “NiceGuy” is. Your brows raise in intrigue as you read through the chat, replying as best as you can to the messages coming in.

“NiceGuy19, if you’d like me to start taking clothes off, I have my goals for tonight on the display next to my feed,” you say politely.

Sure enough, Jaemin looks at the text to the left of your feed and sees that there are options to have you remove your dress, underwear, bra, dance around, play with a vibrator, dildo, or other sex toys, and Jaemin’s brain honestly fizzles out at the options asking you to do more. His mind is reeling thinking about his hands on your hips, moving you from position to position—

Jaemin’s hand finds his length before he even knows it, fingers gripping the thick base of his shaft and pumping his fist up and down.

Tips start escalating in value, the counter of tips received going up and nearing the numbers listed in your goals, and Jaemin hisses in delight when you run your hand up from your lap and over your breast to fix your hair casually. When you move to sit cross-legged on the bed, Jaemin catches a flash of your light pink underwear before you press your dress down between your legs and smile demurely. 

Jaemin’s hand speeds up, pumping his length in his fist rapidly as he daydreams about stripping you of your dress, running his hand over the lace of your underwear and toying with you until a pretty little damp spot appears in the seat of them. Then he’d pull them down your legs slowly, revealing your bare core, and tuck himself under your thighs, bringing his face level to your glistening—

Jaemin’s cumming before he even knows it, his release spurting out and landing on his shirt before the last drops dribble down his fist; he keeps going, however—fucking his hand slowly until he can’t bear it anymore and releasing himself with a shudder and a tensing of his abdomen that borders on painful.

Catching his breath, Jaemin watches you in a daze, eyes heavy-lidded as they drink in the sight of you. He studies your face, admiring your lips—

How he wishes to see those pretty lips wrapped around his fingers or his cock. How he’d love to watch them moan his name as he pleases you.

He watches your eyes—

So sweet and unsuspecting; he wants to watch those pretty eyes glaze over when he turns you into a pretty, drooling mess. He’d love to see your eyes all glossy with tears when he breaks you into the perfect little fuckdoll for him.

Your neck—

His hands itch to wrap around your neck, squeeze until you’re gasping for air, and release you not a moment too soon, lips littering kisses all over the heated skin as you desperately suck in fresh gulps of air.

He wants to fucking ruin you—destroy you, break you, make you his and utterly his alone. The desire is building, and it’s building rapidly—Jaemin has never felt this way before.

His gaze drops to your legs, lifts to your breasts, runs over your body eagerly—

His tongue gliding over the swell of your breasts, fingers digging into your thighs greedily, hot and hungry—ripping off your clothes and revealing you to him, raw, bare, vulnerable; he wants you utterly exposed so he can take you for himself. Ruin any other man for you, have his name on the tip of your tongue every time you climax, memories of his touch ghosting over your most sensitive places at any given moment—

The rest of your live is short—technical difficulties cause you to have to end the stream earlier than expected with a precious frown and sweet, sincere apology—but you promise to see everyone again at the same time on Tuesday night, and Jaemin already knows he’ll be there because he’s sure of one thing, and one thing only.

Jaemin wants you—and he wants you bad. 

You check your reflection in the camera one last time before sitting back and clicking the live button. Casually scrolling through your phone, you wait for viewers to come in, adjusting the light pink slip you’re wearing.

NiceGuy19: hi playgirl

“Hi, NiceGuy19,” you say with a smile, looking into the camera as you speak next. “Are you doing alright tonight?” 

NiceGuy19: doing so well now that you’re live

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle bashfully. 

A few more comments start to roll in as your live picks up traction, and you do your best to answer each one, giving everyone the attention they’re requesting.

A familiar handle pops up and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, NaJaem13,” you smile just a bit wider, wanting to really cater to the user who gives the most generous tips. “It’s nice to see you again.”

NaJaem13: couldn’t stay away from you

“You’re so smooth,” you laugh, amused by his boldness. “You must have broken a lot of hearts, huh?”

NaJaem13: maybe a few

“I missed you last week,” you pout at the camera, and several tips come in. “You left me.”

NaJaem13: won’t happen again

NaJaem13: i promise

He can promise anything he wants as long as the tips keep coming in. You smile at his response and proceed to give your other tippers attention—they paid for a show and you’ll give them one.

You’re still playing it up for the camera, answering a few more questions and thanking the tippers, when a hefty tip and a comment by NaJaem13 catch your eye.

NaJaem13: wish i could have you to myself

You can’t help but raise a brow in intrigue, silently hoping he’s as attractive as he seems. 

“NaJaem13, you can always book me for a private show,” you offer, pointing to the left of your screen at the drop down list of booking options. 

NaJaem13: my name is Jaemin btw

“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” you coo, giving a small wave to the camera. 

A banner notification drops down on your screen and you read the words curiously.

NiceGuy19 has requested a private show.

You mask your disappointment—that wasn’t exactly who you were aiming for, but it’s still a good thing—and click ‘Accept,’ the time of the show taking you by surprise. 

You’re not sure if NiceGuy19 and NaJaem13—Jaemin, you think; his name is Jaemin—are in some sort of competition, but it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he booked you for a show for the duration of the time you would be on live…right after you offered a private show to Jaemin.

You actually don’t fully care if they’re beefing or whatever—the money in your pocket is taking no sides—so you just flash a regretful smile at the camera, fixing your hair.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I have a private show scheduled for right now; I have to cut the live short.” you frown apologetically, and several responses, ranging from sad to annoyed to understanding, flood the chat. “I know, guys, I’m sorry, truly. I’ll be here next week for sure, okay?”

NiceGuy19: see you in a minute ;)

NaJaem13: have fun NiceGuy

NaJaem13: have a good night playgirl :)

“You too, Jaemin,” you hum kindly, giving one last wave before turning off the camera. 

Things escalate the following week when Jaemin decides he isn’t about to let NiceGuy19 swoop in and steal you away again.

After a couple of moments of futzing around on the website page, Jaemin finds the link to book you for a private session and fumbles through the process with excited fingers. He books you for tonight, right after your public show, and sits back in excitement as he waits for his time alone with you. 

PL4YG1RL has accepted your request for a private show.

His phone lights up, likely a confirmation from his banking app that the transaction went through, and Jaemin can’t help but wince at the steep deduction his account’s going to be hit with.

It’s worth it, though, because he gets you.

After what feels like ages, your show finally ends and the display goes black. A buffering symbol appears on the screen, only heightening his anticipation for you. 

After a couple of minutes, your screen loads and Jaemin is practically blown away by your beauty. 

Yes, he just saw you, but he’ll never get tired of watching you. 

“Hi, NaJaem,” you hum, smiling. “My favorite viewer—how are you tonight?”

Jaemin’s mouth goes dry as he sits forward to type out a reply.

NaJaem13: i’m better now that you’re here

NaJaem13: how’s my favorite girl doing?

“Your favorite girl? Stop, you’ll make me shy,” you laugh, and Jaemin smiles widely even though you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: i like you shy

NaJaem13: it’s cute

“You’re such a charmer,” you giggle. “Is there something you’d like me to do for you tonight?”

Jaemin thinks for a minute; he didn’t fully have a plan—he just wanted you all to himself for a night.

You’re patient while he thinks, humming a soft tune to yourself, and Jaemin marvels at just how lovely you are.

His eyes land on something almost out of frame, and he smiles.

NaJaem13: is that a stuffed animal?

Your head cocks to the side in confusion and Jaemin coos affectionately, finding you adorable. You look around you, your eyes lighting up in recognition as you pull a large teddy bear onto the screen from out of frame.

“Yes, it is!” you chirp, and Jaemin wets his lips with his tongue before typing out another message.

NaJaem13: i want you to ride that teddy bear until you cum

NaJaem13: can you do that for me?

Your eyes widen as you look from the screen to the stuffed animal in your hands and back to the screen. Nibbling your lower lip pensively, you nod, and Jaemin could just burst with excitement. You bring your setup to your bed before lying the bear down and straddling it. You start to rock your hips against the tan plushie, your brows furrowing in concentration, and Jaemin watches you with hungry eyes, his hand moving to palm himself through his sweats.

NaJaem13: just like that, angel

NaJaem13: doing so good

You whimper as your eyes flick to the screen, and he groans in delight, squeezing himself harder and starting to stroke himself. 

NaJaem13: how does it feel?

“So good,” you exhale shakily, and he grunts, pushing into his boxers and gripping his length, hot and heavy, at the base. 

NaJaem13: you look so pretty right now

NaJaem13: can you say my name, angel?

“Jaemin,” you moan, rocking onto the stuffie more eagerly. Your hands move from the bed to graze up your legs and torso until they’re cupping your breasts, squeezing them and shuddering with pleasure. “Jaemin, I think I’m close.” Your words come out as breathy pants that have Jaemin’s hand eagerly speeding up as he pumps his fist up and down his cock.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: keep going baby. just like that

“Jaemin, can I cum?” you ask, desperation all over your face, and Jaemin nods vigorously, feeling his own climax approach, before realizing that you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: you can cum, angel

NaJaem13: cum for nana

“Nana,” you plead in a broken whine, and Jaemin watches in awe as your rocking speeds up—he tries to match the pace with his hand—and your head tips back as your climax hits. Whimpers fall from your lips freely until you bite your lip to stifle the sounds—an action, Jaemin notes, that he wishes you hadn’t done. 

You are, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing sight he’s laid his eyes on in ages, and Jaemin’s climax comes rushing in without a moment’s hesitation.

Jaemin’s cock throbs in his hand and his eyes shut tightly as he thrusts up into his hand, cum spilling from the slit and dribbling down his fist, warm and wet and white.

“God, fuck,” he groans in delight, eagerly sitting forward to study you closely. You’re still straddling the stuffed animal, and your eyes are visibly glazed over even through the computer screen. There’s a beautiful lazy, content smile on your lips, and Jaemin wishes he could take you in his arms and kiss your smile over and over again.

NaJaem13: you are so beautiful

NaJaem13: you did such a good job

“Jaemin, please, all this praise is getting to my head,” you joke, grinning bashfully, and he can’t help but chuckle fondly.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: you deserve it

NaJaem13: wish i could see that pretty smile in person

You look away shyly, smiling and there’s a moment that passes in which Jaemin realizes you’re debating on whether or not to say something.

NaJaem13: what’s wrong?

“Nothing, actually,” you say sincerely, and Jaemin hums in intrigue. “I just wanted to let you know that I have some in-person slots—”

Holy shit.

NaJaem13: i’ll be sure to book one with you

“Oh—awesome,” you reply, smiling sweetly. Jaemin’s heart could burst right now and he’d die a happy man. “The link is that way,” you explain, pointing to the left of the screen, and sure enough, there’s a series of links, one titled “Book a Session.” 

NaJaem13: found it

You shoot him a thumbs up before looking off-screen for a moment, whatever you lay eyes on making you frown cutely. “I’m sorry, but we only have about three more minutes together tonight.”

NaJaem13: don’t worry about it

NaJaem13: get some sleep

Jaemin sends you a generous tip, your eyes widening in surprise when it shows up on your screen.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you say gratefully, a shocked but pleased smile on your pretty lips. “Hopefully I see you again soon.”

NaJaem13: you will

You wave for a moment, then the screen goes black and a message shows up on the screen.

Your session with PL4YG1RL has ended.

Jaemin doesn’t want to let you book with anyone else; not after having you all to himself. He clicks the link you pointed to a moment ago, impatiently drumming his fingers on the keyboard as it loads, and the new page shows a calendar with appointment slots highlighted. Jaemin books the earliest available appointment for Tuesday at 4:00pm and sits back excitedly as the confirmation page loads.

Your appointment has been booked. Please check your email for your confirmation and further instructions.

Jaemin navigates to his email and reads over the list of stipulations. They seem standard and easy enough—like submitting a clean and recent STI test update—and a set of rules during the session—like always wearing a condom—and Jaemin scrolls and scrolls and scrolls some more until he sees the address you’re supposed to meet up at, and he smiles widely, saving it to his notes.

Three days until Jaemin meets the object of his affections. Jaemin feels like a child on Christmas Eve—well, the eve of Christmas Eve’s eve. He can hardly wait.  

Jaemin sits in the hotel lobby, knee bouncing nervously as he waits for you. He scans the faces of everyone who enters the lobby curiously, his heart falling in disappointment when none of them are you.

You’re not late, Jaemin’s just early—and eager. 

As a matter of fact, you walk in right on time, more beautiful than ever in a cute blouse and skirt combination. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited in his life.

He stands up and walks over to you, smiling when you two lock eyes. 

“Jaemin?” you say curiously, and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

He is beyond handsome, you think. You got lucky.

“Hey,” he replies, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Hi,” you parrot, admittedly taken aback by how attractive he is. “Are you, um, ready to go up?”

“I was actually thinking we could…hang out, kind of.” Jaemin says carefully, scanning your face for any sort of negative reaction.

“Oh?” you ask. “Like a date?”

“Yeah!” he confirms. “Like a date.”

“Okay,” you agree, smiling at the prospect of a date with him. 

“We can go out to a café or restaurant, maybe? Only if you want. It’d be my treat.” he proposes, and your smile widens. He’s cute when he’s nervous.

“Sounds good to me.” 

He grins and offers you his arm, your brows raising in an impressed surprise at his manners as you take it, the two of you heading towards the front door.

“So tell me about yourself, Jaemin,” you say, raising an eyebrow curiously. You two sit in a café over drinks and pastries, Jaemin eager to get to know you.

“Oh, uh…I don’t know,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m in college…I have a brother…”

“Ooh, college?” you ask. “What are you studying?”

“Photography,” he answers, and you let out an impressed hum.

“Very cool,” you say encouragingly. “And you mentioned a brother? Older or younger?”

“Older,” Jaemin replies. “He’s a cop, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” you murmur, intrigued. 

“Can I hear more about you?” Jaemin asks, sitting forward. “What do you like? What do you like to do?” 

“Hm,” you muse, looking up in thought. “I like deer,” you finally answer, “and bunnies.”

Jaemin thinks that’s fitting for you.

“I like my job,” you continue. “Meeting all these different people is interesting.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaemin’s thoughts won’t stay quiet, urging him to get them off of his chest.

“Shoot.”

“Do you ever fake it?”

“Fake…?” Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

Jaemin already regrets asking. “Um, I mean, like, when you’re with other clients, and you—”

“I know what you mean, Jaemin,” you laugh. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh, thank God.” 

“Off the record? All the time.”

“No way.” Jaemin can’t hide his shock.

“I probably fake it more times than I don’t.” You shrug, and he sits back in surprise.

“And that doesn’t get exhausting for you?”

“I can’t lie, it’s kind of fun to play it up every time.” you murmur conspiratorially, and Jaemin laughs.

You’re playful. You’re letting him know things you don’t tell other people.

There’s definitely something here.

“How do you know they don’t know you’re faking it?” he asks curiously, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Jaemin.”

“Hm?”

“You really think they care if I finish or not?” 

“Oh,” Jaemin mutters. He hadn’t thought about that. “I would care.” 

“Oh, yeah?” you hum playfully, nudging his foot with yours under the table. “Well, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” 

Jaemin’s heart could give out right now. You’re flirting with him. 

“Next time?” he says hopefully. “So I can see you again?”

You give him a small but flirtatious smile. “That’s up to you.”

The first session ends as well as Jaemin could have hoped. You got a little beneath surface level with him, flirted with him, laughed with him—Jaemin thinks you might even be starting to like him. 

He saw the way you eyed him when you first met; you’re definitely attracted to him. 

So he books you again.

And again.

And…again.

Jaemin can barely keep his eyes off of you. All you’re doing is ordering a drink at the counter, but you’re a vision of beauty in a soft yellow flowing dress, your hair tastefully styled away from your face, and his mind is racing with everything he wants to do to you.

It’s your fourth time together, and Jaemin still hasn’t made a move. He wants you so badly but wants you to want him too, so he’s been trying to get closer to you. He thinks it’s working, actually, because you seem to brighten whenever you catch sight of him. 

And all of that is well and good, but it doesn’t solve the problem he’s having right now. The very sight of you has his cock stirring in his pants.

“Are you okay, Jaemin?” you ask curiously, snapping him out of his thoughts. You’re looking at him with furrowed brows of concern, and Jaemin almost feels bad for worrying you.

“I’m alright,” he assures you, leaning forward to pay for your drink, and your face relaxes, the two of you walking over to the other side of the counter to wait for your drink. He stands just behind you, scanning your frame with desiring eyes. When you shift your weight from one foot to the other, a waft of your delicate perfume drifts into his face, and he has to control himself to restrain the groan that builds in his throat.

He decides to make his move—this isn’t how he planned for things to go today, but fuck it—and place his hands on your hips, squeezing you and pulling you closer to him.

“Hi,” you laugh, craning your neck to look back at him. 

“Mm,” Jaemin nuzzles into your hair and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo. “Hi. You smell so good.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle, leaning back against him. 

“And you look even better.” His voice is lower now, more seductive, and you hesitate, his tone piquing your curiosity and stirring up arousal in your stomach.

“T-Thank you,” you mumble, feeling shy now, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to chuckle, nosing past your hair to trail his lips along the shell of your ear. You take in a sharp breath at the somewhat ticklish sensation, your head tilting of its own accord to allow him more access to your neck.

His soft exhale sends warmth fanning over the sensitive area of skin, and you squirm slightly, arousal building as his lips press wet, slow, purposeful kisses down your ear to the spot just behind it. 

“Jaemin,” you warn softly, your voice whinier and huskier than you expected it to be. “We can’t do this here.”

He peppers light kisses down your neck until he’s at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, where he gently bites the skin there, relishing the whine you let out.

“I have an iced chai latte with almond milk!” the barista calls, and you move forward to pick it up, only to find yourself restrained by Jaemin’s strong arm anchoring you against him.

“Jaemin,” you whisper, “I have to get the drink.” You can’t help but laugh when he shuffles forwards with you to pick up the cup before you turn around—not without difficulty—in his embrace to face him, your eyes drifting from his darkened, lust-filled ones to his lips and back up. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Do you have any idea how good you look?” he groans, and you blink twice, stunned by the wave of arousal that has overcome him. “That little dress is just tempting me.”

You cock an eyebrow curiously. “Tempting you to do what?”

Jaemin leans in so your lips are barely apart from each other and wets his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Rip it off of you.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead closing the distance between you two in a kiss—your first one together—that leaves you reeling. You suck in a breath of air when your lips part, Jaemin immediately pulling you back to him with a deeper kiss, his tongue playing almost lazily with yours. He sucks on your bottom lip and releases you from the liplock when you tap his chest repeatedly to get his attention.

“The hotel down the block,” you murmur against his mouth as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “the one we met at. I have a room.”

“Let’s go,” he says immediately, linking his fingers with yours and tugging you after him.

You two manage to make it back to the hotel quickly, hustling into the elevator where Jaemin all but pounces on you, pressing you up against the wall as the doors slide shut. The rail behind you digs uncomfortably into your back, but Jaemin’s lips on your neck distract you enough to the point where you no longer care.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he grunts, sucking at the base of your neck and dragging his teeth along the patch of skin, making you gasp. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Jaemin,” you moan, your fingers sliding up his back to curl in his hair at the nape of his neck and tug. “That feels so good.” Desire blooms between your legs, warmth radiating out from your core to the rest of your body as you feel arousal start to leak from you. 

“Yeah?” he hums, moving back up to kiss your lips. “Gonna make you feel even better.” 

As if on cue, the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, the two of you quickly making your way down the hall to your hotel room. Jaemin chuckles as you fumble around in your purse for the room key card, finally managing to catch it between your fingers and pull it out victoriously. 

You swipe the two of you in, and Jaemin barely lets the door shut before he’s pressing you up against the wall, his thigh slotting between your legs with ease. He threads his fingers in your hair, thumb caressing your jaw, and tilts your head towards him for easier access. His free hand slides around your waist, resting on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him.

“Jaemin,” you pant, pushing at his jacket to get it off of his shoulders and finally discarding it on the floor, “the bed.”

“Can’t I play with you a little bit right here?” he hums teasingly, his hand dropping from your back to hike up the hem of your dress. He strokes up the smooth flesh of your inner thigh and you hiss in pleasure, parting your legs wider for him. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, and he grins.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please?” You sound impatient, and Jaemin smiles at the thought of you as desperate as him.

“Okay, angel,” he acquiesces, slipping his hand up higher until they’re stroking the lace of your underwear. His fingers push the garment aside until he’s taunting you by stroking at your folds which are now slick with arousal, and the whine that spills from your lips is well worth the wait.

“More,” you whisper, and his fingers dip into your wetness immediately, eager to give you everything you want and then some.

“How’s that?” he muses, a playful smile on his lips as two of his fingers push into you, and you cry out in pleasure, gripping his shoulder with one hand to brace yourself as he curls his fingers and starts pumping them inside of you.

“S’good,” you whine, your head tipping back against the wall, and Jaemin presses his lips against yours firmly, startling you.

“I don’t want you faking it,” he urges, and your eyes widen as you nod, having forgotten you told him about that. 

“I won’t,” you promise breathlessly, and he smiles, his fingers speeding up inside of you. “Just like that, oh, God—”

“You’re so wet,” he hums, the tip of his tongue flicking at your bottom lip teasingly. “You must really like me.” When your only reply is a plaintive moan, he grins proudly and kisses down to your collarbone, biting it gently as his fingers continue to thrust into you. It’s not too long before his fingers fuck directly into your g-spot and your hips start unconsciously grinding down to get more of him inside of you.

“Jaemin—”

“Nana,” he corrects, suddenly overcome with the need to hear you call him by his nickname.

“Nana—” you moan, “I’m close, I’m so close—”

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over my fingers, angel?” he’s practically taunting you, and the anticipation builds in your chest just as your pleasure builds in your lower abdomen.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, please?”

“Cum for me, baby.” Jaemin watches in fascination as you ride his fingers to your climax, your chest pushing into his as your back arches, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight in his life.

When your climax finally subsides, you look at him with pretty, glazed over eyes and a shy yet beguiling smile that has Jaemin wanting to pin you down and make you cum over and over again.

But first, Jaemin has something else on his mind.

“Angel?” Jaemin asks carefully, and you cock your head curiously, waiting for his next words. “Can I feel your mouth around me?”

You don’t say anything, but your smile widens and you sink to your knees, opening his pants teasingly slowly, eyes locked on his until your hand wraps around the thick base of his length.

“You’re so big,” you hum in delight, and Jaemin smiles fondly, the expression dropping off his face abruptly when you exhale warm air over the head of his length, a small laugh falling from your lips when he shudders and he twitches in your hand.

You lay your tongue out flat, blinking up at him before dragging your tongue up his length slowly, swirling it around the tip before wrapping your lips around him and starting to bob your head up and down, your hands stroking at what you can’t yet fit in your mouth.

“God, fuck,” Jaemin grunts, his brows knitting together as you suck him off. You pull off of him and look him directly in the eyes as you let saliva drip off your tongue and onto his length. The wet warmth sliding down his cock only makes Jaemin hiss in pleasure when you resume your actions of sucking and stroking, using the spit as lubricant.

“So good,” he croaks, thrusting forward unconsciously. His cock hits the back of your throat and your throat constricts as you gag slightly, the sensation feeling like bliss to Jaemin. “Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, and you shake your head, pulling off of him.

“Do it again,” you urge, and his brows raise up so high they practically disappear into his hairline. 

“You want it, yeah?” He’s breathless, his hand wrapping over yours and aiding you in stroking him. “Angel wants Nana’s cock in her pretty little mouth?” 

“Yes,” you say, pouting, and Jaemin feels like his heart could just explode. “Please, Nana?”

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles, awestruck and in heaven. “Anything for you, angel. Open up.” He taps his cock against your lips, grinning when you part them and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. He rubs the head of his length against your tongue for a moment before slowly pushing into your mouth and starting to thrust. The faint wet gagging noises only add to the ambience, Jaemin’s grunts and pants helping to create a lustful soundscape.

“You like when I fuck your pretty little mouth?” he asks, and you nod, whining around him and sending vibrations all down his length. “You are so perfect,” he murmurs, infatuated with the sight of you on your knees for him. 

His thrusts speed up until he’s fucking into your mouth with sharp pumps, low groans leaving his lips freely. 

You’re taking it like a champ, Jaemin thinks, watching in fascination as your eyes go glassy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes before they start spilling down your cheeks. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen, and the realization and wave of adoration he feels has him pulling out of your mouth abruptly.

“On the bed,” he urges, and you oblige, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. He hovers over you, encroaching on your space until you’re on your back, a playful smile on your lips as you look up at him. “Let’s get these off,” he murmurs, hiking up your dress to hook his fingers in your underwear and pull them off your legs. When your glistening core is exposed to him, he groans, pumping his cock in his fist slowly as he adjusts you further up the bed. 

Jaemin fishes out the condom he brought from his pants pocket on the floor, ripping the package open and rolling it on impatiently, before he presses his cock against your core, the head nestling between your folds to rest just before your entrance. 

He pushes into you slowly, a whoosh of relief leaving his lungs, and you clench around him, mewling at the sensation of him filling you up.

“So big,” you moan, and he leans over you again to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly to distract you from the discomfort as it ebbs away. 

“You’re so good,” Jaemin mumbles in a daze, silently praying you adjust soon so he can fuck you. “Doing so well.” 

“You can move,” you urge him in a soft voice, and he presses another kiss to your lips before straightening his back, draping one of your legs over his shoulder and pulling out to the tip before burying himself in your walls once more. 

He quickly builds up a pace that has broken moans falling from your lips and grunts from his, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonating through the hotel room.

“Feels so good, angel,” Jaemin practically babbles, losing his sensibility the longer he fucks you. “So tight and wet, shit—” 

You respond with a flex of your walls around his length that draws an uncharacteristic whimper from him, and he can feel the beginnings of his climax stirring just behind his navel. He brings two fingers to his mouth and withdraws the now spit-slicked digits to bring them to your clit, massaging circles into the sensitive bud. 

You’re in bliss as Jaemin stimulates your clit with skillful strokes. He thrusts into you at a different angle than before and your nails dig into the bedspread as his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Oh, my God, right there!” You cry, and he grins smugly, complying and thrusting into the sensitive patch of nerves over and over again as your climax approaches rapidly. “Jaemin—” you plead, rocking back against him desperately. 

“Are you gonna cum again, angel?” he coos sweetly, and his grin only widens at your eager nod. “Good; cum for me, baby. Cum all over Nana’s cock.”

Pleasure washes over you in waves as your orgasm rushes through your body, and all you can do is whimper Jaemin’s name over and over as you ride out your high.

“Hang in there, baby, I’m close,” he groans, his thrusts speeding up as he focuses on getting himself to finish. He cums not long after you do, releasing into the condom with a shudder rippling down his spine. He hangs his head as he catches his breath and slowly pulls out of you, tying off the condom and heading to the garbage bin by the side of the bed. “Are you okay?” he asks, and you smile blissfully, nodding.

“I’m great,” you assure him, and he sighs in relief. 

“Good,” he replies. “Hold on one second,” he murmurs, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and returning with a damp washcloth and you giggle as he cleans you up and then himself.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you say, smiling, and he shrugs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers softly, lying down on the bed beside you after he’s pulled his boxers back up. “Was that good?” His voice sounds more worried than he planned to let on, but there’s no taking it back now.

“It was amazing, Jaemin,” you reassure him, and he nods, smiling shyly. 

Jaemin really thinks this could be something special. He’s sure of one thing—he’s definitely booking you at every available opportunity.

“Girl, where are you headed today?” Yuna laughs incredulously as you start packing up your things.

“I have an appointment.” You smile secretively, and Ryujin sits up from her spot on the couch, a skeptical furrow between her brows.

“With that same guy from earlier this week?” She asks, and you nod. “You do realize that he’s booked you literally every day this week, right?”

“Of course I realize that,” you snort in amusement. “More importantly, my bank account realizes that.” 

“You see that guy more times in a week than you do us,” Yuna huffs with a pout, and you mirror her expression sympathetically.

“You’re being dramatic; there’s no way I’ve seen him more than you guys,” you reply, and Yuna rolls her eyes, Ryujin sighing in mild frustration.

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Ryujin exclaims, and you shoot her a look.

“Be for real,” you say flatly. “Think of it like…I work in a diner, and I’m picking up extra shifts.”

“Things must be getting real heated in that diner if he keeps coming back.” Ryujin teases, and you throw the nearest item—a pillow from Yuna’s couch—at her, laughing when it hits its mark.

“You know, he’s actually really good in bed. It’s kind of crazy that he’s single,” you muse thoughtfully. “Besides, sometimes we don’t even have sex.”

“Really?” Ryujin raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Does he ask you to do kinky fetish stuff, like walk on his back in stilettos?” Yuna asks curiously, and you and Ryujin look at her, bewildered.

“Wh—Where did that even come from?” Ryujin laughs.

“You know, I have actually done that before…but, no, not for him.” You wave off Ryujin’s and Yuna’s intrigued spluttering and continue on with, “I mean, sometimes we just…go get coffee, hang out, watch movies.”

“These just sound like paid dates.” Yuna points out, and you shrug.

“I mean, if he’s paying, he can ask me to do damn near anything, really,” you laugh, and Ryujin snickers.

“Well, we won’t hold you up, okay? Go get that bag!” she chirps, and you blink at her slowly.

“…Stop picking up lingo from TikTok,” you say as your final words before you bid them goodbye with a wave and head out of Yuna’s apartment to go meet up with Jaemin.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” Jaemin coos at you as he fucks into you, your legs over his shoulders as he presses you into the mattress.

“Yours, Jaemin,” you gasp loudly, and he shoots you that winning smile of his, turning his head to kiss your calf.

“No one fucks you like I do,” Jaemin grunts, cupping your chin with one hand and making eye contact with you. There’s an almost crazed look in his eyes, a wild energy that thrills you to your core. “No one could ever treat this pussy as good as I do.”

“No one,” you whimper in agreement, your mind slipping away as he thrusts into you. “Only you, Jaemin.”

“Love this pussy so much,” he mutters almost to himself, biting down on his bottom lip so hard you can see the pink skin of his lips surrounding his bite turning white. “Wanna keep you for myself—you’re all fucking mine.”

“‘M yours,” you mumble, slurring slightly as the pleasure clouds your brain. “Jaemin, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, angel,” he urges, and you fall apart around him without waiting another moment, crying his name out loudly as your nails scratch uselessly at the bedsheets. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his head tipping back in ecstasy before his thrusts grow more erratic and finally come to a stop as he releases into the condom, ragged breaths leaving him. 

Jaemin looks down at your figure, bare skin glistening with sweat, your hair all mussed up, and a fucked-out look on your face, and thinks to himself that this must be heaven on Earth, the male never having felt luckier than he does right now.

He pulls out of you carefully, quickly discarding the condom in the bedside trash can, and collapses beside you on the bed, a silence falling over you two as you catch your breath and get your bearings.

As you’re lying there, Ryujin’s and Yuna’s words from earlier come back to you, and a question begins to itch at your throat, begging to be asked. After moments of debating, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Hey, Jaemin?” 

“Yeah?”

“How are you affording all these sessions? Aren’t you, like, a college student?” you ask curiously, and the silence that meets your question has you backtracking immediately. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business—”

“I don’t mind answering,” Jaemin speaks up, and you turn your head to see that he’s already done the same, brown eyes studying your face. “I have money stashed away in my savings, pretty good credit, and my job doesn’t pay too badly.” he answers, and you nod slowly in understanding.

“I hope you’re not blowing your savings on me,” you chuckle, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the notion of him spending his savings on you.

“Don’t worry about me, angel,” he hums. “Besides,” he continues, nudging you gently with his elbow, “I think you’re worth more than every cent.”

Your face warms up at the compliment and you mumble a bashful thank you. “I just don’t want you to land yourself in hot water because of me.”

“Trust me, angel,” Jaemin assures you, “I’m doing perfectly fine.”

So, Jaemin may have lied a bit.

A lot, actually.

Since meeting you, he’s fully blown through his savings—all $5,000 of it—royally fucked up his credit by maxing out his credit cards, borrowed far too much money from his older brother, and has now resorted to…is this embezzlement? Can you even embezzle a mom-and-pop shop? 

Jaemin has to admit that he feels a bit guilty, Mrs. Kim’s kind face flashing in his mind as he pockets several bills from the cash register. 

But it’s you, with those eyes, and that smile, and that laugh, and it’s you, with that sweet voice and the way you say his name, and—

It’s you.

And Jaemin would do anything for you. Even if it means making some fiscally irresponsible choices and committing a few reprehensible actions, he thinks as he navigates your booking website expertly and schedules another meeting with you for tomorrow afternoon. 

Maybe, Jaemin thinks, he’ll take you shopping. He saw you eying a pretty silver bracelet in the window of a jewelry shop when you were walking around together the other day. Maybe he’ll get it for you as a gift.

The first time was an accident. Or at least that’s what Jaemin’s going with.

When he left the hotel room he’d rented for you two, he didn’t expect to see you still in the lobby, the picture of perfection as you look down at your phone, tapping at the screen. 

Jaemin conceals himself behind a passing bellhop and his cart when you lift your head up to look around, and it’s almost like a magnet pulls him after you when you exit the building. He makes sure to keep you at a distance, not wanting you to catch him watching you.

Jaemin watches as you walk down the street, slowly following after you. You’re so sweet, so innocent…so unaware.

Someone could just snatch you up and have you at their mercy in a second. 

So he’s protecting you. Or, at least, that’s what he’s going with.

Jaemin “protects” you on your walk, not even sure where you’re headed, but when he watches you fish out a set of keys and enter an apartment building, his body lights up with a thrill. 

You’re heading home. 

Jaemin very tentatively follows you into the large building and practically collapses with relief when you go to the mailboxes and take your mail out. He doesn’t find a way to justify following you up to your apartment, so he just…waits until the doors close on the elevator and walks over to your mailbox, looking at the unit number.

“Found you,” He sighs dreamily. If he inhales deeply enough, he can still smell your light fragrance in the air.

Now, the first time was an accident. The second time was a coincidence. 

The third, fourth, and fifth times were anything but. 

Jaemin follows you home after every single meeting you two have, evading detection every time. He swears up and down he’s protecting you, making sure no harm befalls you as you travel back to your place.

Sometimes, however, he catches himself entangled in a dark fantasy consisting of you and him and the lovely element of surprise and he can’t help but think that maybe he’s exactly who you would need protection from.

But he’s different, Jaemin thinks. He cares about you. He adores you. He…he loves you.

Plus, you make it too easy, he thinks. Never straying from your usual route home, never sparing a glance over your shoulder; it’s almost like you know he’s watching. Like you know he’s following your every move.

It’s almost like…you want him to follow you. Want him to engage in a little game of cat-and-mouse as he follows you—his prey—back to your place of safety and lies in wait to pounce. 

You’re playing with him, Jaemin thinks, because you must have feelings for him too. Hell, you might even love him back.

Jaemin makes up his mind the eighth time he follows you home; nothing is going to stop him from being with you.

“Huh.” You pause when you step out of the elevator, the doors quietly shutting behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asks, attempting to follow your gaze. “Oh, you have a package!”

“I don’t remember ordering anything, though,” you mumble, heading down the hallway to your front door. You check the package and sure enough, your first name is written on the small box.

“Well, are you gonna take it?” Ryujin watches you turn the package around in your hand.

“I mean…yeah, I guess.” You agree slowly, unlocking your door and heading into your apartment, Ryujin following after you. You set your bag down and immediately turn your attention to the package in your hand. You carefully and gingerly open the brown paper wrapping to reveal a small white box. You take the top off, revealing its interior, and gasp.

“What is it?” Ryujin asks, by your side in a moment as she looks into the box. “Holy shit.”

“Right?”

“That bracelet is beautiful,” Ryujin stammers, “not to mention how expensive it looks.”

You carefully take the silver tennis bracelet out of the box’s protective foam and stare at it in wonder. “It looks so familiar.”

“Put it on!” Ryujin encourages you with a nudge, and you nod dumbly, letting her fasten it around your wrist. You stare down at it in bewilderment, still having a hard time processing. “It looks so pretty on you,” she compliments, and you nod distractedly. It looks so familiar around your wrist—almost like you’ve worn it before. Your mind flashes with a memory and you freeze, staring down at the bracelet with wide eyes.

“Oh, my God.” You remember where you’ve seen it.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin presses, looking from the bracelet to you.

You drop the box and step back from it as if it might bite you.

“I saw this during one of my appointments with Jaemin. We went to a jewelry store.” you recall slowly, apprehension trickling down your spine like ice cold water.

“Oh, okay! Why are you so nervous—wait a minute.” Ryujin goes still, and you nod encouragingly, hoping she makes the same deduction you just have.

“Do you think Jaemin bought it for you?” she asks, and you nod again, raising your eyebrows for emphasis. “But how did he get it—to your—oh, what the fuck—”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” you exclaim, and Ryujin waves her hands around as she silently tries to make sense of everything. “Does he—does he fucking know where I live or something?”

“How would he know where you live?” Ryujin asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know, but it got here somehow!” you whisper-yell, and she nods, her gaze drifting from your panicked eyes to the floor.

“There’s a note,” she points out, and you follow her gaze to the small slip of paper sticking out from under the foam in the box. You stoop to pick it up and blink down at the note.

“It’s just a heart,” you mutter, and Ryujin purses her lips thoughtfully.

“Damn. Was kinda hoping it’d have some sort of identifying information,” she mumbles, and you sigh.

“Me too,” you grumble, your mood souring. “Maybe,” you say hesitantly, “I should stop seeing Jaemin so much.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Ryujin agrees, “at least until you figure out what’s going on.” 

You sigh in resignation. “Yeah. I hope this doesn’t end up blowing up in my face.”

Something is off. 

Jaemin hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in eight consecutive days. When he looks at your booking website, your usual appointment slots are grayed out and unclickable. Every time he gets close to scheduling an appointment, it’s miraculously canceled and his money refunded, stating that there was a schedule conflict.

If that wasn’t enough, Jaemin has been attending your lives, and you haven’t given him any attention at all. He knows lives probably get overwhelming, especially when you have a large audience, but he doesn’t even get more than a thank you and a smile—a polite one, not the smile he’s come to adore—when he tips you.

He has no idea what’s going on, but his mind is reeling with possibilities, each more disastrous than the last.

You could be ignoring him. Avoiding him, possibly. 

You could be scheduling with other people. Letting other clients touch what’s his.

Jaemin bristles with anger. The thought of another person’s hands on you, their name leaving your lips in a moan of pleasure, your beautiful smile directed at someone that’s not him drives him into a fit of rage.

Thoughts and images of you with another person flash in his mind, tormenting him, and he clutches his head, pressing his fingers into his skin as hard as possible to offset the emotional pain he’s feeling with a more manageable physical pain.

You can’t be with anyone else. Jaemin loves you. He fucking loves you. He would do anything for you; he’s landed himself in financial hot water tipping you and booking appointments with you, he’s completely fucked academically from skipping classes and not turning in assignments in his attempt to spend as much time with you as possible, and this is how you treat him? Do you even care about him?

Jaemin cannot fucking breathe. He places a panicked hand over his heaving chest and struggles to regulate his inhales and exhales as he tries to calm himself down. His chest feels tight, constricted as he pants and he can feel his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears as his world caves in around him.

No, Jaemin thinks, that’s not possible. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not with what you two have together. 

Maybe it’s just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe you’re taking a break from in-person sessions for a bit. 

Repeating the words in his head like a mantra, Jaemin can finally breathe again.

He misses you, though. Thankfully you’re going live tonight, and he can see you that way.

Sure enough, you go live at midnight like clockwork, a vision in a pretty pale blue dress, and Jaemin feels his heart swelling at the sight of you. A glance at your wrists has his heart about to burst with joy; you’re wearing the bracelet he bought you.

“Hi, everybody,” you greet sweetly, waving at the camera. “How is everyone feeling tonight?” 

Responses start coming in the chat and Jaemin just sits back, waiting for a lull so he can send his message and not have it swept up in the flurry of rapidly incoming messages and ultimately ignored.

As he expected, the replies taper off in a moment, and he sends his message.

NaJaem13: lonely. bored.

He watches your eyes scan the replies as you respond to individual users, his heart rate picking up in excitement when you read the response right above his. 

“Sorry to hear you’re bored, NaJaem13,” you hum softly, and hearing your voice say his name—well, part of it—and watching your lips shape the syllables has his heart soaring. “Hopefully I can change that!” 

He tips you 100 tokens, and the smile on your lips as you thank him is more than worth it.

NiceGuy19: r u seeing anyone? boyfriend, girlfriend, etc

You read the question out hesitantly, and Jaemin’s chest swells with pride as he’s confident you’ll allude to what you two have going on—

“No, NiceGuy19, I am very much single.” You smile, the expression not quite reaching your eyes, and Jaemin freezes.

You’re single? What the fuck?

Loverboy01: haha so i have a chance

You let out a small laugh at the comment as you read it aloud before giving a small nod. “You do,” you agree. 

Jaemin’s eye twitches. Maybe you’re keeping what you two have private…out of respect for the relationship. There’s only one problem with that.

Jaemin doesn’t want you to keep it private. As a matter of fact, Jaemin’s not so sure he wants to share you with anyone anymore.

His fingers trace along the trackpad, a few clicks, and he’s booking you for a private show. There’s a moment in which nothing happens, Jaemin waiting with bated breath for you to accept.

Your eyes drift away from the camera, looking distracted for a split second, and Jaemin smiles.

You saw his request.

You clear your throat and click something before fixing your hair slightly and continuing to read comments. A window pops up on Jaemin’s screen and he reads it eagerly.

PL4YG1RL is not available for a private show at this time.

Jaemin’s smile drops. 

You saw his request…and declined it. There goes that tightening in his chest, that feeling of his throat closing up, and he can’t contain his frustration.

He has to talk to you; he has to see you in person and get an explanation for all of this. He’ll wait until your live is over, then he’ll go see you and figure out what’s going on because, honestly, Jaemin feels like his heart’s about to split into two.

You’re startled awake by three insistent knocks on your front door, not expecting any visitors at this hour. 

What even is “this hour,” anyway? What time is it? 

You look over at your clock on your dresser and your eyes widen at the displayed time of 4:17 that blinks back at you.

Who the hell could be knocking on the door at this hour?

You get out of bed, donning the robe on the back of your bedroom door and wrapping the fabric around your body, and make your way to your front door as three more knocks sound out.

You peek through the peephole and your blood runs cold at the sight of Jaemin standing there, an unmistakable frown on his face.

You open the door and stare at him in disbelief, saying nothing. His eyes widen when he sees you and he sighs in relief, a smile beginning to curl his lips.

“You answered,” he exhales. 

“Jaemin?” You ask carefully, and his smile slowly drops in favor of a distressed expression as he starts to speak.

“I saw your live tonight and—”

“Jaemin?” 

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone—”

“Jaemin.” 

“You’ve been avoiding me too, I know you saw my private show request—”

You just blink at him, in disbelief.

“What about all the time we’ve spent together?” He looks like he wants to say more, but holds his tongue at the last moment. Looking into his eyes chills you to your core; past the hurt swimming in his dark irises, there’s something desperate and unnerving about his gaze. You don’t miss the way his eyes rove over your figure with an unmistakable hunger, his gaze no longer exciting you like it did before. Now, you feel vulnerable, wanting to shift your weight to your other foot but not wanting to show your discomfort.

“Are you done now?” You ask slowly.

He nods.

“Jaemin,” you say, making sure to keep your voice level, “how do you know where I live?”

He balks at your question, only worsening your nerves as you swallow what feels like a thick lump in your throat.

“What about us?” he croaks out, and you can’t hide your incredulity quickly enough.

“Jaemin,” you sigh, “there isn’t anything going on between us.” Jaemin flinches like you’ve slapped him, eyes wide and wounded. “I do this for a living.”

“What about that time I asked if I could see you again and you said that it was ‘up to me,’ with that teasing little smile?” he presses, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing deeply.

“I meant that literally.” you explain, in awe at how far away from reality his mind has carried him. “If you wanted to see me again, you would have to book me.”

“But—I—I love you,” he confesses, stepping closer to you. He doesn’t miss the way you step back slightly, shrinking further into the safety of your apartment.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry, but…” you say sincerely, feeling bad for him despite your apprehension about the whole situation. “I don’t feel that way about you.”

The way his face crumples into devastation has you wincing internally, your sympathetic nature pushing forward as you struggle with whether or not to comfort him. He hangs his head for a second and you look away to give him some privacy. 

You remember, taking in his broad frame and how it practically fills up your doorway, that he never did mention how he found out where you live, and you slowly tense up again, also recalling how he’d blatantly dodged the question.

Just as fear trickles down your spine as you realize Jaemin knows far more about you than you’re comfortable with, he sucks in a ragged breath and jolts you out of your thoughts. You look back at his face and he slowly lifts his head, revealing an expression so deeply hollow that you wish you’d never looked in the first place, let alone answered the door. 

You’re regretting every interaction you’ve had with Jaemin, frankly, because clearly he’s gotten the wrong idea, and now this emotionless, dead-eyed man in your doorway is honestly scaring the fuck out of you.

He sniffs once and when he speaks, his voice is every bit as flat and hollow as his face, completely impassive. “So you don’t feel anything towards me.” 

You hesitate, nibbling your bottom lip nervously as you try to smooth the situation over. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up in pace as he stares you down with growing impatience.

“No,” you finally eke out, and he sighs, anger briefly flashing on his face before the hollow look returns, only to be replaced with a dazzling smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as he nods in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He holds a hand up to silence you, nodding in understanding. “It’s alright.”

“Are…we done here?” You ask tentatively, not trusting your voice to conceal the tremble past a whisper.

“Yeah.” He smiles, waving you off dismissively. “Have a good night.” 

“You too.” You wave cautiously, and he starts walking away from your apartment. You watch as he calls the elevator and gets in, waiting for the doors to slide shut before you practically collapse in relief, quickly closing your front door, locking both locks, and leaning against the door as you try to control your racing heart.

You’ve never seen Jaemin’s smile so void of any sincerity—it looked more like he was baring his teeth at you than actually smiling. Reality sets in, crushing your shoulders as you come to terms with two unnerving truths.

The first truth being that Jaemin knows where you live.

The second being that you didn’t tell him.

You’re heading out to the grocery store from Ryujin’s apartment, having decided to stay with her for a while until you feel safe returning home to your place. 

Looking into your purse for your shopping list, you hear footsteps behind you, your senses lighting up in panic, and you whip your head around to look behind you only to see a woman and her child walking past you. She shoots you a friendly smile, and you return it, relief coursing through you. 

“You’re being paranoid,” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the shopping list and looking it over briefly. As you walk to the store, you can’t help but notice the sense of danger your body’s picking up on. 

Something feels off, and you don’t know what it is.

Now jumpy with nerves, you pick up your pace, glancing over your shoulder periodically as you practically speed walk to the store. 

The first glance, you see nothing but the road behind you.

A car pulls up behind you and you whirl around, but the car pulls up to the curb and parks. A breath of relief escapes you, and you keep walking.

The third glance behind you rewards you with nothing, and at this point you’re pretty sure you’re jumpy for no reason, half-chuckling to yourself. 

Almost out of habit now, you look over your shoulder for a fourth time, still finding no one, and you turn forward only to collide with someone’s chest, apologies immediately spilling out from your lips.

“So sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you stammer as you steady yourself, and the chuckle you hear makes you freeze, your heart gripped with terror.

You know that chuckle.

You look up in a panic, a loud gasp escaping you at the sight of Jaemin’s wide smile. He doesn’t stand still for long, swiftly moving behind you and clamping a rag over your mouth and nose as you wriggle in panic, letting out muffled shrieks and screams. 

Your mind races—how could he get away with this in the middle of the day? Where is everyone?—and whatever’s on the rag fills your lungs with every panicked inhale you suck in. 

Hold your breath. Fight back.

You reach to claw at Jaemin’s arms, but his jacket sleeves block your every move. As he holds the rag to your face, he works to lock your arms behind your back, his actions hindered by your defensive attacks as you reach behind you, praying your nails can make contact with his face, neck, something—

One of your blind swipes collides with the side of his face, a low grunt leaving him, and you move to hit him again, this time aiming with your nails— 

You can’t hold your breath any longer, adrenaline coursing through you and making your breathing pick up.

The rag is soaking wet, the smell of the liquid slightly sweet as it drips down your neck and onto your shirt. Jaemin dodges your attacks directed at his face and manages to catch one of your wrists, aided by the rag over your mouth which makes every one of your limbs feel like it’s filled with wet sand.

Your free hand drops uselessly to your side, and Jaemin grabs it, a faint sound of metal clinking before cool metal rings—handcuffs?—close around your wrists.

The fabric of the rag is coarse against your face, and it’s one of the last things you can focus on as you feel your composure slipping away, your muscles going slack, eyes drooping shut—

“You should be more careful,” Jaemin murmurs, starting to drag your limp body with him. As your mind finally slips away, your body losing its fight, the last thing you hear is a chuckle from Jaemin, the sound far more sinister than earlier, and his final words. 

“You could get hurt.”

When you open your eyes, you see a white ceiling. 

A look to the left of you, and you see a window, moonlight painting the floor in streaks.

To your right, you see a mahogany dresser, a matching nightstand, and a door, cracked open to reveal an en suite bathroom.

Your mind is swimming as you try to piece together everything going on—you were walking to the store—you ran into someone—Jaemin, you ran into Jaemin. You remember something cold, wet, and sweet on your face—and then, nothing. 

Your arms and shoulders ache, and you wiggle your fingers experimentally, numb digits digging into your lower back—are those handcuffs? 

Panic sets in as you realize that you’ve been abducted—in the middle of the day, no less—and you have no idea what’s going on.

What does Jaemin want with you? 

Where are you? What time is it?

Has Ryujin noticed that you’re gone? Is she looking for you, perhaps?

Hell, can she even find you?

How the hell are you going to get out of—

“You’re awake,” Jaemin’s voice from out of nowhere makes you yelp, your eyes darting around to find him until you look straight ahead to see him standing in the doorway. 

“You fought back more than I expected,” he hums thoughtfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, people don’t tend to like being chloroformed and dragged away.” You can’t help but be bitter and, really, who could blame you?

“You made it difficult,” he defends himself, frowning. You stare at him incredulously, saying nothing. “Hiding at your friend’s house—do you know how confused I was when you weren’t coming into or out of your building?” 

“You waited outside of my building? How did you find out where I live?”

“I may have followed you home a couple of times,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You—a couple of times—oh, my God. Did you send this bracelet?” you splutter, shaking your wrist holding the piece of jewelry.

“I did,” he announces proudly. “And you’re wearing it; it looks so beautiful on you.”

“Jaemin,” you say slowly, “what was the purpose of kidnapping me? What do you want?”

Jaemin frowns. “I just want us to be together.”

“Jaemin, how many times do I have to tell you that all of our interactions were because of my job?” you complain, yanking uselessly at the handcuffs binding your wrists. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You will.” His reply is simple but unnerving in its simplicity. He leans over you and unlocks the handcuffs restraining you, smiling when you tentatively rub your wrists. “Better?”

“W-Why did you do that?” you ask, half-hoping he’s had a moment of guilty conscience, but his response chills you to the bone.

“I want you to struggle.” 

The worst part is how bright his eyes are when he says it. He’s eyeing you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, his gaze dropping to scan your body for an uncomfortably long moment, before he looks back up at you, his gaze now hungry and desiring.

“Jaemin—Jaemin, please, you don’t have to—” You stammer, scooting back against the headboard as he moves closer to you with his head cocked curiously.

“I know, angel,” he replies, leaning closer with a widening grin when you have nowhere to go. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and yanks you—hard—so you’re pulled closer to him. “I want to.”

“Jaemin—” Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes. “I don’t want—”

“You will,” he shushes you, having the audacity to sound comforting. “It’s gonna feel so good,” he purrs, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling the zipper down. He peels your jeans down and off your legs painstakingly slowly, the sound of the garment hitting the floor making you flinch. “So jumpy,” he snickers, and you have half a mind to send your knee crashing into his jaw. 

You refrain because, ultimately, it won’t do anything besides make him angry. Even if you managed to run away, you have no idea where you are and he’d probably catch you before you had a chance to get your bearings.

“Screw you,” you spit out instead, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows with a suggestive grin.

“You will.” He stares you down with darkened eyes, evoking a shudder from deep within your body. The corners of his lips quirk upwards in a smug grin, and he slides his hands up your bare legs, slowly parting your thighs with ease even though you fight to keep them closed. “Let’s play a game,” Jaemin hums excitedly. “We’re going to play together for a bit and then we’re going to take these,” he muses, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin and relishing the way you jolt, “off. If your body likes what I’m doing to it, we’re going to keep playing.”

“Oh, God,” you whimper, closing your eyes tightly. Jaemin’s hand cups your chin hard and he shakes your head from side to side roughly, forcing you to look at him with an affronted glare.

“Look at me.” Jaemin demands, his eyes hard as he arches a brow in warning. You balk under his stern gaze. “Don’t look away from me. Understand?”

You nod tentatively. Jaemin smiles, the disapproval from earlier gone without a trace.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you warmly, and your stomach curls in disgust.

He’s sick. He’s lost his fucking mind.

You watch Jaemin cautiously as he moves to sit beside you on the bed, propping his back up against the headboard. He pulls you until you’re straddling his lap, your face burning with shame as you struggle to keep your eyes on him like he ordered.

His hands glide and down up your sides and he squeezes your hips with a low groan, guiding your movements so you’re rocking back and forth on his lap, your clit occasionally rubbing against his clothed erection through the thin fabric of your underwear and the thicker fabric of his sweats.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” Jaemin coos sweetly against your lips, pushing forward to kiss you. It takes everything in you not to bite his lip or his tongue when he pushes it into your mouth. “Kiss me like you mean it.” His voice is still light, but the warning in his tone is evident, and you whimper in defeat when he swirls his tongue around yours, pulling it back only to suck on your tongue. 

He’s drawing all your attention to your mouth and your core as he stimulates both, leaving you so disoriented that you don’t even notice one hand sneaking up your shirt until his cold fingers graze your stomach, making you jolt away from his touch.

“So cute,” he mumbles fondly into the kiss, and you could almost swear you feel bile rising in your throat. 

You’re not sure if you’re angrier with him or with yourself as your body reacts to the sensations of Jaemin kissing down to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin there. It’s hardly your fault, you think—Jaemin’s advantage is that he already knows how to please you, and you’re defenseless against his touch.

His hand under your shirt slips to your back and unclasps your bra, returning to the front and worming its way under the lacy fabric to pinch your nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. You jerk away from him, and his free hand clutches the back of your neck, his iron-clad grip pinning you in place. He pulls back from your neck to shoot you a warning glare that chills your blood before slowly returning his lips to your skin, sucking and licking as he traces circles around your stiffening peak.

His lips trail kisses, hot and wet, down your neck to your collarbones and both hands tug your shirt over your head, discarding it to the side and returning to your body to cup your breasts. You flinch at his touch, Jaemin chuckling with sadistic amusement before groping your breasts freely, tugging and squeezing your nipples until you let out defeated moans of pleasure.

His lips kiss lower and lower still until he’s leaning you back so he can angle himself forward to envelop your nipple in his mouth. The sucking sensation is regrettably arousing and it takes all of your focus and willpower not to make any noises. Your hands push at his toned chest, firm muscles unyielding under your touch, and Jaemin just laughs, the vibrations sending another pang of pleasure down between your legs. 

Your pushing grows more and more determined until you actually manage to push hard enough to detach his mouth from your chest. Jaemin, it seems, grows tired of your retaliation and forces your hands behind you, gripping your wrists in one large hand and pushing them into the small of your back so you’re forced into a deeper arch. He nuzzles in the space between your breasts and leaves sloppy kisses along the skin there before moving to swirl his tongue around your nipple, flicking it with the tip and grinning when you inhale abruptly, your breath hitching when he nips at the bud with his teeth.

He alternates between your breasts, kissing, sucking, and licking to his heart’s content as you whimper in protest, incapable of wriggling away from his mouth. 

After a moment of Jaemin’s relentless mouth on your nipples, he looks up at you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and reconnects your lips, squeezing your wrists together hard when you refuse to part your lips for his tongue.

He smacks your ass once, the flesh stinging from the impact, and you yelp in pain, Jaemin’s tongue slipping into your unprotected mouth and playing with yours languidly, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.

“You know,” he mumbles, still kissing you, “what I want?” When you don’t answer, he sighs, almost in disappointment, and smacks your ass again, ignoring your pained cry. “Answer me.”

“What,” you mutter bitterly through gritted teeth, “do you want, Jaemin?”

“I want…to feel you ride my lap,” he answers with a wicked grin, and you groan in complaint as he grabs at your hip with his free hand and guides you into a repetitive rocking motion against his clothed cock, which you can feel hardening with every drag of your hips.

His lips attach themselves to your neck, his hand leaving your hip and massaging your breasts, flicking at your nipples lightly. Your movements halt almost instantly, and he raises an eyebrow up at you expectantly, looking pointedly at where your bodies meet.

When you stubbornly refuse to move, his gaze hardens and he grips your jaw, squeezing hard enough to evoke a whimper from you.

“Keep. Moving.”

You two stare each other down for a moment and Jaemin raises both eyebrows as if to say, “is that so?” You falter at the thought of whatever punishment he has in mind and slowly resume your grinding motions, averting your gaze. It feels like your soul withers when you hear his satisfied hum and his lips return to your skin, kissing and sucking at where your neck and shoulder meet.

His head lolls back for a moment, eyes shutting as he lets out a low groan of bliss, and your movements start to slow again as you feel the insuppressible tugging sensation of pleasure in the pit of your belly.

He opens his eyes to stare at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, silently ordering you to keep moving, and you start to panic, knowing all too well that when he goes to check if you’re wet, he’s going to see that you irrefutably are.

“Jaemin, can we please stop—”

“No.”

“But—but I’m gonna c—” 

“Of course you are.” Jaemin speaks to you slowly, as if you’re stupid. “What do you think the point of this was?”

Your heart falls at your realization that he probably intended to make you climax this whole time, rigging the “game” he’d set up. You can’t help but feel stupid for not knowing that this was his plan the whole time; he kidnapped you and you really expected him to keep his word?

His lips drag you out of your spiral of hopelessness when they drag against the spot just behind your ear, and you keen desperately, wishing for anything at all to save you from this.

Of course, no such miracle comes, and your body curls in on itself as you climax, your hips bucking against his lap. You bite your lip so hard to keep from moaning that you’re surprised you don’t bleed, but Jaemin’s gleefully satisfied expression is every bit as disappointing as any noise you could have made.

He waits until your body has calmed down from your climax, watching with fascination as you both succumb to the pleasure and try with all your might to ignore it, to speak.

“You know, I think we’ve been playing for long enough,” Jaemin hums, snaking a hand between your bodies and inching it painfully slowly down your stomach.

He’s prolonging the inevitable just to torture you, and you sigh in resignation, the sound catching in your throat as you hold back defeated tears.

After what feels like ages, his hand finally reaches its destination, long fingers stroking over the damp spot of your underwear as he gasps ostentatiously. “What’s this?” His eyes flicker between his hand between your legs and your face with a devilish grin, and you let out a broken whimper.

“Nothing,” you lie, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, yeah?” He slips his fingers into your underwear and you reluctantly hiss at the sensation, angling your hips away from him. “Doesn’t feel like nothing,” he teases, grinning as he strokes along your slick folds. 

You move to argue, but he presses his lips to yours, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth even as you whine in protest. Jaemin grins against your lips as he withdraws his fingers from your underwear and displays them to you proudly, the digits glistening with your arousal.

“Looks like we get to keep playing, angel,” he murmurs, and your heart falls. “C’mere,” he urges you, dragging your reluctant body off his lap and lying you down on the bed on your back. 

“Jaemin, please? Please don’t—oh, God—” you stammer as he parts your legs, reflexively clamping them shut again, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow in warning.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” His voice is low and threatening, and a chill runs down your spine as his grip on your knee tightens noticeably and his eyes lose the playful glint. When you relax your muscles, Jaemin smiles brightly and spreads your legs apart. “Good girl. Now relax,” he purrs, running his hands up your inner thighs and chuckling at the tremor of revulsion that travels through your body, “Nana just wants a taste.”

He pulls your underwear down and off your legs painfully slowly, as if he’s rubbing the moment in your face, and you can’t help but let out a choked sob of defeat, wanting so badly to look away but fearing his reaction if you do.

“Sound so pretty when you cry,” Jaemin coos, spreading your legs wider once the thin garment covering your core is tossed carelessly onto the floor. He tucks himself between your legs, and you inch away from him as subtly as possible, crying out when he wraps one muscular arm over your hips and yanks you towards his mouth with ease. “Don’t run from me.”

You’ve been holding back tears for so long, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but when he leans down and his tongue makes contact with your core, the dam breaks—tears, hot and fat and wet, trail down your cheeks, and you can’t help but sniffle pathetically.

“That’s it, just let it happen, angel,” Jaemin hums, licking up your folds, his tongue collecting your arousal, and he looks you directly in the eyes when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “Taste so fucking good…and it’s all for me.”

His tongue flicks and swirls around your clit languidly and your core drips arousal as he teases his fingers at your entrance, pushing two in slowly to the first knuckle, and you cover your face in an attempt to muffle the reluctant moan of pleasure that slips out from his attentive actions.

“Come on, Playgirl,” Jaemin taunts, “I wanna hear you moan like you did all those other times we’ve been together.” He pushes his fingers into you and you gasp, one hand leaving your face to clutch at the bedsheets, and you shake your head vigorously.

“Jaemin, that was my job,” you desperately explain, but your futile attempt to save yourself falls on unsympathetic ears, and he looks up from between your legs, his lips glistening with a mix of his saliva and your wetness.

“Well, now your job is to convince me to let you live.” He raises both eyebrows as he regards you, but an ice cold panic takes over your whole body at his words. 

Would he seriously try to kill you? 

You don’t even notice how your breathing has picked up until your chest is heaving with panic and Jaemin reaches up, pressing between your breasts to flatten you to the bed.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I won’t hurt you if you’re good for me.” He watches you intently as resignation settles in your chest, cold and heavy, before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl,” he praises. He returns his attention to your core, curling his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out of you as he wraps his lips around your clit and hums contently, sending vibrations through the sensitive bud and making your back arch.

A moan forces its way out of your lips, your face burning with shame as you feel your body succumbing to the pleasure. 

“It feels good, yeah?” Jaemin asks, continuing when you don’t respond, “I know it feels good,” he coos teasingly, “because your pussy keeps clenching around my fingers.”

You refrain from swearing at him, instead shuddering with unwanted pleasure when he angles his fingers just right and his fingertips press into your g-spot, and Jaemin’s eyes light up with glee.

“Gotcha,” he mumbles, a triumphant grin on his face as he thrusts his fingers into you, repeatedly stimulating your most sensitive spot along your inner walls, and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, the pleasure too much to bear.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, angel?” Jaemin asks with a smug grin, and you shake your head vigorously even as your eyes roll back into your head and your back arches off of the bed with another skillful thrust of his fingers. “Yes, you are,” he says, ignoring your denial and reattaching his mouth to your core, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue. 

To your dismay, you are about to cum, your impending orgasm building up in your stomach even as you desperately try to will it away. Broken pants escape you as the pleasure grows, and when you finally climax, you whimper loudly, your eyes shutting tightly as fat tears force their way out and down your temples to melt into the pillow under your head.

“That’s a good girl.” Jaemin presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs, his lips traveling higher up your body until they’re pressing against yours forcefully, the taste of your arousal on his tongue as it slips between your lips. His kiss is all-consuming, Jaemin emitting grunts and pants of desire while his hand reaches between you two. After a moment passes of his hand not touching you, you move to break the kiss in confusion, only to feel the head of his cock rubbing up and down your folds, collecting your arousal.

“Jaemin—no—fuck, Jaemin, please—” you plead, putting all your strength into pushing him away from you. His eyes light up with excitement at the new challenge you’ve presented and he swats your hands away with ease as you push and shove at his chest, a growing smile on his face as you push yourself out from under him, scooting up towards the headboard.

“That’s it, angel,” he coaxes you, nodding encouragingly as you push his shoulders to get him away from you. “Push a little harder, yeah, just like that.” He’s coaching you through fighting him off, you realize, and what little hope you may have had all but drains from you as you let out a choked sob and close your legs as tightly as you can. 

“Jaemin, at least put a condom on—” you manage to get out through panicked breaths, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” Jaemin snickers, placing one hand on your leg and forcing his hand between your knees, yanking your legs apart with a grunt and shoving himself between your thighs once more. “I want us to feel every inch of each other, angel.”

Before you can protest again, he tucks your knees to your chest, draping your legs over his shoulders, and drags you back down to him. He pins your arms above your head and coos down at you in mock sympathy as he pushes into you slowly.

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, your body trembling under the weight of your yet-to-be-shed tears. Jaemin bottoms out inside of you with a low, content moan and turns his head to kiss your calf before leaning down to bring his lips to your ear.

“Love filling you up with my cock,” he purrs in your ear and you can only hiccup from the force of trying not to cry. “Does that feel good, hm? Having me fill your tight little pussy up?” When you shake your head vigorously, Jaemin tuts disapprovingly. “Lying isn’t going to help you.”

The worst part of it all, you think, is that it does feel good. He’s been with you enough at this point to know exactly what you like as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, slowly, making sure you feel every single inch and ridge of his length.

He fucks into you slowly but with powerful snaps of his hips, moans falling from your lips whether you like it or not, and he presses your legs against your chest even harder, uncaring about the ache it sends shooting up your legs. 

You can’t even dwell on the discomfort because he keeps driving his hips into yours, fucking you into a stupor that you couldn’t snap out of if you tried.

“I know you love when I fuck you,” he coos, and when you cry out in protest, he just laughs. “Your body won’t lie to me.” He pouts. “I can feel you clenching around me and you’re so fucking wet, I could almost slip out. I bet you’re about to cum already, aren’t you?”

He’s right, unfortunately, and you can only nod and whimper, not sure if you’re asking him to release you or let you finish.

He reaches between you two and massages your clit in quick circles, eyes flashing with triumph when your back arches and you climax with a breathless whine and repeated moans of “No, no, no.”

“Gonna cum, angel,” he pants, his brow furrowing as he speeds up his thrusts. “Gonna fill you up with my cum,” he grunts, and your eyes widen as the fight returns to your system. You writhe under him in an attempt to free yourself, but Jaemin just laughs uncaringly and sits up slightly to grip your squirming hips and push you further into the mattress. 

He’s stronger than you could ever manage to overcome, and his actions render you immobile, your legs still flailing under him as your hands push at his chest.

“Jaemin, don’t cum inside of me,” you plead, bucking your hips uselessly, but he just moans, fucking into you harder.

“Gonna make you mine,” he purrs, his grip on your hips tightening uncomfortably as he ignores your every protest. “All fucking mine.” His thrusts become slower and almost impossibly deeper before he bottoms out in you with a low groan and releases into you, a pleased shudder leaving him as his length throbs within your walls.

All you can do is cry bitterly at how betrayed you feel by your body and how shame burns in you like an inferno, and you cover your face with your hands in resignation, not moving them even when Jaemin attempts to pull them away. 

He sucks his teeth in annoyance and his grip tightens around your wrists as he wrenches your hands from over your face, his lips on yours immediately as he tastes the salt of your tears, a delighted hum rumbling in his throat.

“You’re all mine now, angel,” he breathes into the kiss. “No one’s ever going to separate us.”

“I want to go home,” you whimper, and he shushes you with the demeanor of a comforting lover, despite the truth being far from the situation.

“You are home,” Jaemin coos.

Being abducted is, as you probably could have guessed, a nightmare.

Jaemin has the audacity to be sweet and kind to you by talking to you sweetly, serving you (admittedly) good food, and telling you sweet nothings everyday—while he has you handcuffed to the bed. He lets you wear his clothes, although you suspect that’s more for him than it is for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll attach one of your handcuffs to a chain so you can roam the room as freely as one can in an eight foot radius.

He hasn’t touched you since the day he abducted you; he says he’ll wait for you to get adjusted this time. He also leaves you alone a startling amount, but you figure that would track for a normal college student; however, nothing about this is normal, so there’s that.

Your chance comes when he leaves you to go to work one day—you think it’s Tuesday, but the days are honestly starting to blur together so you’re not sure—and leaves a drawer open in the nightstand in his haste to get there on time. 

Your cursory peek into it reveals a few unimportant items but one stands out to you. 

A paperclip. 

You don’t know very much about lock picking apart from reading one WikiHow link on it a while ago, and there isn’t a lot of room for trial and error, so you really only have one good shot at it. 

Today Jaemin felt kind enough to use the chain as opposed to handcuffing you to the bedpost, and you thank the universe that you have just enough room to reach the drawer, jostling its contents so the paperclip can slide closer to you.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you mutter anxiously.

The paperclip slides towards your hand and you snatch it immediately, sitting up and bending it into the shape you vaguely remember seeing in the WikiHow article. Unfortunately, your mind blanks after that one step, so you just feed the end of the makeshift lock picker into the keyhole for the handcuffs, carefully twisting it this way and that. 

It takes a grueling amount of time in which you fear the paperclip might break, but the small metal utensil thankfully stays intact the whole time, and you could cry with relief when there’s a click and the pressure on your wrist loosens considerably. 

“Oh, my God,” you half-gasp, half-laugh. You spring to your feet, wobbling slightly as you get acclimated to standing up and moving again. You don’t have much time, you’re sure, so you sneak out of the door and steal down the hallway and stairs, rushing out of the front door and not caring to lock it behind you.

You’re not wearing shoes, clad only in socks, and the concrete of the pavement feels cold and rough under your feet, making it harder to run away as you would have preferred.

You’re walking down the street, praying to see a landmark that helps you get your bearings, when you hear the blip of a police car. 

You’re saved.

You’re running before you even realize it, the impact of your poorly covered soles on the concrete sending sparks of pain up your legs, waving your arms wildly at the car as it approaches, and it slows to a stop, a relieved sob escaping you as you run up to the cop’s window. 

“Officer, please help me—I’ve been kidnapped—I don’t know where I am—I don’t know where to go—” you stammer breathlessly, and the officer raises a hand to silence you, looking at you with curious eyes.

“You’ve been kidnapped?” he murmurs, brows knitting together in a confused sort of surprise. 

You nod vigorously. “His name is Jaemin,” you explain in a rush of words, “Na Jaemin.”

“Okay, let’s head to the precinct and I can get your report there,” the officer explains. He’s got a very handsome face, you can’t help but think. He smiles for the first time, and you feel at ease instantly, his smile kind and warm with two dimples to go with it.

“Okay,” you agree immediately. 

“You have to ride in the back of the cop car,” he explains, stepping out of the vehicle and opening the back door for you. He’s fairly tall, and his badge glints in the sunlight, making it hard for you to read his name. “It’s policy.”

You nod in understanding and get into the backseat, strapping yourself in and scanning the car curiously. There’s a clear divider between the front and backseat and you watch the cop’s side profile as he starts the car and drives off. 

You’ve been riding for a while before you realize.

“Um, officer?”

“Mm?”

“Is this the way to the precinct?” you ask carefully, studying the side of his face for any sign of a tell.

“We’re going exactly where you need to go,” he answers, and you can’t help but notice with an unsettling jolt that he didn’t answer your question. As he speaks, he passes a house you definitely remember passing when you escaped, and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You think frantically about what could be going on, and it hits you all at once.

Jaemin mentioned having a brother. Who’s a cop. You found this officer in the area of Jaemin’s place. 

“Officer, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He doesn’t answer, only heightening your suspicions. The coincidences are too much to let slide, so you quietly reach for the door handle when he pulls up to a red light. There’s a muted click as the door handle fails to open the door, and the officer speaks.

“You can’t open the back doors from the inside.”

Which, yeah, makes sense, but the way he sounds when he says it takes you by surprise. He sounds smug almost, almost teasing.

You sit back quietly, your voice dejected when you speak next. 

“We’re not going to the precinct, are we?” 

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replies easily, and you rest your cheek against the cold window in defeat, trying as hard as you can not to cry; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

When the car finally rolls to a stop, you look out the window in resignation, your gaze dull and broken when you lock eyes with Jaemin, who’s standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

“You should lock this one up more carefully next time,” the officer scolds Jaemin lightly, and Jaemin nods with a smile at him before looking at you with a hurt frown. 

“I was being so nice to you,” he complains, and you scoff under your breath, sliding your gaze away from him. He opens your door and, when you don’t move, sighs before he reaches in to unstrap your seatbelt and pull you out of the car. “Oh, by the way, this is my brother Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jaehyun replies dryly, raising his eyebrow at you.

You don’t reply.

“Same mother, different fathers,” Jaemin goes on to explain. “Hence the different last names.”

“Jaemin, I really don’t care,” you say honestly, and he frowns at you.

“Don’t hurt my feelings.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Jaehyun. See you!”

Jaehyun raises two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before he’s driving off. 

“I think I’m going to have to revoke your roaming privileges.” Jaemin hums with an air of disappointment as he leads you back into the house.

You wish you could revoke his life at this point.

It’s another day being held in Jaemin’s room and you’re lazily watching the television that Jaemin put on for you before going to work, eyes practically glazing over with boredom before you change the channel. It’s harder to reach the remote with your hands zip tied in front of you, but you manage to make it work.

You flip through channels absentmindedly, but stop immediately once you hear your name coming from the screen.

You flip back a couple of channels until you land on the local news, which is in the process of going through your Missing Person report. 

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly, watching as they display a picture of you on screen. “They’re looking for me.”

Your best friends Ryujin and Yuna come on screen next, Yuna in tears and Ryujin looking pissed as she talks to the newscaster.

“She doesn’t just up and disappear, something happened to her, I know it.” Ryujin says vehemently. She looks directly into the camera and you feel goosebumps raise on your body at how determined she looks. “We’re going to find you. Don’t worry.” 

“I love them,” you mumble sadly before sitting up slightly. Knowing that someone is looking for you fills you with hope and a resolve you didn’t have before. 

You’re getting out of here.

You stare down at the zip tie around your wrists and think about how to get out. You bring it to your mouth and start to nibble at the thick plastic, praying this works. Your jaw aches as you work away at the zip tie, but you can feel it starting to separate, giving you more hope.

You have no idea how long you have so you stop nibbling halfway through the tie and sit up as straight as possible, twisting the tie around and yanking your wrists apart forcefully. It takes several tries and you’re just about to give up before you yank one last time with all of the frustration and anger you have in your body and the tie snaps apart. 

“Holy shit,” you sob in relief, quietly moving to get off of the bed before realizing— “fuck, my ankles.”

You can’t reach them to bite through the zip tie so you fiddle with the locking mechanism, pushing the small plastic latch this way and that with your fingernail until it gives way and loosens enough for you to slip out.

You look around for shoes, not about to make the same mistake as last time, and finally find them under the bed, slipping them on as quietly as possible and heading out of the door and down the stairs.

You’re almost out, freedom just out of reach, when keys jingle in the lock of the front door and you freeze for a moment before running to the hallway closet and hiding in it, holding your breath for dear life amongst coats and various household items. You peek through the slots and fear seizes your heart when you see Jaehyun walk past the closet and up to the second landing.

You don’t waste any time, immediately slipping out of the closet just in time to hear Jaehyun swear loudly, footsteps thundering down the stairs, and the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking has you panicking as you rush towards the front door.

“Don’t…move.” Jaehyun’s voice sounds out from behind you, and you turn slowly to face him. He’s got the gun pointed directly at your chest and your eyes widen and your breathing picks up as you realize the very real possibility that you might get killed. “Jaemin picked a difficult one, I see.”

“Jaemin wouldn’t want me dead,” you say desperately, shifting in panic each time Jaehyun moves to the side, not even realizing that he’s been slowly and subtly maneuvering you both so he’s blocking the front door and you’re forced further into the house.

“Jaemin wouldn’t mind you incapacitated.” Jaehyun points out, instead aiming the gun at your knee. 

“Please don’t,” you beg, tears welling up in your eyes, and he raises one eyebrow skeptically.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Why are you helping him, anyway? You’re a cop; surely you know they’ve been looking for me.”

“He’s my brother,” Jaehyun answers your question like you’re stupid and you hide the way it makes you bristle with anger. “He makes dumb choices, yeah, but having his back is what family’s for.”

“I have a family, too,” you sniffle, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I really don’t care.”

Jaehyun’s face is frighteningly emotionless as he points the gun at your leg. You’ve got nowhere to run, and your hope is almost entirely snuffed out. You close your eyes and wait for the unimaginable pain to come with a bullet to the leg.

You flinch violently at the loud thud that startles you, and snap your eyes open at the familiar grunt, praying you’re not imagining things. Could it really be—?

Sure enough, Jaehyun is staggering from Ryujin’s powerful blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat. His grip on the gun slips and it hits the floor, making you flinch yet again as you pray it doesn’t go off. You dive for the gun at the same time Jaehyun does, but Ryujin kicks him hard in the side, the larger male groaning loudly in pain as one hand goes to clutch his side. You take the opportunity and snatch the gun off of the floor, quickly clambering to your feet and aiming the gun at his pained form on the floor.

“If you even think about moving, I will blow your fucking brains out.” You seethe, holding the gun with both hands and, truthfully, you’re surprised you’re not shaking, chalking it up to the shock and adrenaline.

“You don’t know how to shoot a gun.” Jaehyun sneers at you and you just smile, aiming at the wall behind him and pulling the trigger. The gun jerks back in your hand as a bullet tears a small hole through the wall, and Jaehyun’s face goes gray, much to your satisfaction.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” You smile humorlessly down at him and you watch as he swallows thickly. “We’re going to leave now. I’m going to keep this gun. And if I ever see you again—I don’t care if it’s at the goddamn supermarket—I will put a bullet through your thick ass skull,” you promise, your voice low and trembling with poorly restrained rage (and fear—definitely fear). 

Jaehyun’s furious yet dead-set gaze on you is beyond unnerving, but you shake off the jitters as best you can.

You and Ryujin slowly inch towards the door, never moving your eyes away from Jaehyun, and right as Ryujin inches by him, he lunges for her ankle, making her jump away in surprise and barely get away. You and Ryujin both scream and you point the gun at his legs, not even thinking before you pull the trigger.

A loud gunshot rings out, your hands jerking back once more from the gun’s recoil, and Jaehyun practically roars in pain, grabbing his wounded thigh and squeezing hard in an attempt to slow the blood loss.

“I hope I hit a fucking artery.” You spit, taking the opportunity while both of Jaehyun’s hands are busy to lurch forward and kick him in the side as hard as you can.

“Fuck—you fucking bitch—” Jaehyun’s words come out in pained gasps as he grasps his side with one bloodied hand, gritting his teeth in agony, and you and Ryujin make a run for it. You’re in absolute shock and disbelief as you stumble out of the house you’ve been held captive in for weeks. 

You could faint from joy when you catch sight of Yuna’s car waiting outside the house, the car still on and running as you two rush to the car, climbing in the backseat. 

“Let’s go, go, go—” Yuna yells, not even waiting until Ryujin is done shutting the door to drive off as quickly as possible, her tires screeching.

There’s a moment of silence in the car where you and Ryujin look at each other and as you two lock eyes, she leans over to you and pulls you into a tight hug, trying her best to soothe you as you shake and tremble in her arms with the force of your crying. Your shoulder feels damp, you realize when you finally compose yourself enough to pull away, and you see that Ryujin has tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“We thought you—that he—” Ryujin hiccups, and you hug her again tightly as she takes her turn to cry. “We never stopped looking for you.”

“Thank you,” you gush, the two words feeling embarrassingly inconsequential compared to the absolutely overwhelming relief and gratitude you feel. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you—”

“Don’t even mention it.” Yuna weaves through traffic precariously, and you’ve never been so relieved to be in the car with your haphazard driver of a friend.

“How the hell did you find me?” You can’t help but wonder.

Ryujin sags in relief and exhaustion against the backseat, her free hand not holding the baseball bat gripping your free hand not holding the gun. “We just had to figure out Jaemin’s name and address and the other day I got lucky and spotted him in the grocery store, so I followed him home.” Ryujin says, her words stumbling out together in her rush to speak. “It was like a miracle.”

“You’re telling me.” You laugh for what feels like the first time in ages, relief flooding through your body as the sight of the police precinct comes into view. 

It’s over. It’s finally over.

“So what brings you to therapy?” The woman sitting in a large gray armchair watches you over the rims of her glasses. Her gaze is intent but kind, and she crosses one leg over the other. 

Her navy blue blazer and skirt are a cute combination, you think. The color brings out the warm brown of her eyes, and the slightly lighter shade of blue on the wall behind her only helps you feel a bit more at ease.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you speak.

“About two months ago, I, um…I was stalked and kidnapped.” You exhale slowly. “Or abducted, I guess—you can’t kidnap an adult—but, um, yeah.”

You chance a peek at the woman across from you to see her eyebrows raised in surprise, a concerned frown on her face.

“That must have been terrifying.” 

“Yeah, for sure. The guy who did it is in prison now, thankfully, but it’s definitely changed a lot of things in my everyday life, y’know?” you mumble, and she hums thoughtfully, nodding.

“Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

“Well, um. I ended up moving out of my apartment because I just didn’t feel safe there. I live in a different building now with a great security system.”

“That’s good.” She encourages you to continue speaking with a small wave of her hand.

“I also quit my job because that’s how J— …my stalker—found me. Now I work as a waitress.”

“I see,” she muses. “How is that working out?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shrug. “Meeting all those people every day is kind of nerve-wracking, but maybe it’ll get better with time.”

“I believe it will,” she assures you, and you can feel yourself relaxing a bit more. “How have you been sleeping?”

“Not very well,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I’m so…jumpy nowadays that any sounds at night wake me up instantly.”

“I can imagine.”

“And then there are the, um…the nightmares.” She seems to be waiting for you to elaborate, but a lump rises in your throat, rendering you silent for the time being. 

Avoiding her gaze, you scan the room for something to ground you and stop the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. Your eyes land on the placard on her desk, your eyes tracing over the embossed letters of her name—Dr. Jiyoon Choi—and you envision what the nameplate would feel like under your fingertips. 

It’d be cool to the touch, you think; it’s metal, after all. Smooth, too. You mentally run your fingers over the ridges of the letters of her name, and—

“Nightmares are common for people who have been through traumatic events like your situation.” Dr. Choi’s voice is gentle but brings you out of your dissociative state nonetheless. 

“I figured,” you mutter with a nod.

“It will take time to work through everything you’ve been through.” Dr. Choi explains, and you nibble at your bottom lip as you listen to her. “Nightmares and flashbacks are common in people with PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” 

“Yeah,” you echo lamely.

“As is dissociating at times,” she continues, and you think back to the several times you’ve spaced out in the thirty minutes you’ve been in her office. “It’s your brain trying to protect you from the memories.”

“I need it to try a little harder,” you sigh, and her lips quirk upwards into a fond smile.

“Be easy on it, hm? And yourself; you’ve both been through so much.” There’s something so deeply affirming about her confirmation of your situation, a professional signing off on your trauma, that the dam breaks and you take in a deep, shaky inhale before bursting into tears. 

The only other sound to be heard apart from your crying is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sureness of the ticking, the reliability of the sound, is somehow calming to you, your ragged breaths slowly starting to sync up with the clock.

Tick, tick, tick.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you manage to compose yourself once more and look up at Dr. Choi—who, you now notice, has passed you a small blue tissue box.

Tick, tick, tick.

“That was embarrassing,” you mumble, slightly chuckling as you try to play it off as a joke.

“That was expected,” Dr. Choi corrects you, sitting forward in her seat and adjusting her posture. “May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Was that the first time you’ve cried since everything happened?”

Tick, tick, tick.

“Yes,” you admit.

“I think that’s a good sign,” she encourages you. “You’re starting to make progress by processing your emotions.”

“Yeah?” Your voice sounds small but hopeful.

Dr. Choi nods reassuringly. “Yes.”

There’s a small beat of silence and you look down and run the pads of your thumbs over the smooth surfaces of your fingernails.

“Is there anything else you’d like to share today?” Dr. Choi asks gently, and you shake your head. “Okay. In that case, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for our session today.”

“Thank you.” You stand up and take your bag, smiling feebly as you head for her door.

“Of course.” She smiles. Your hand is just wrapping around the doorknob when she speaks again. “Will I be seeing you next week?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your fist squeezing the cool metal of the doorknob. 

You want to get rid of the dark cloud that feels like it’s been following you around for the past two months—you want to be able to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder every three seconds—you want…you want to feel better. 

“Yes,” you answer, turning back to look at her with a small smile. “You will.”

“Wonderful. My secretary can set you up for our next appointment. Take care and get home safe.” Dr. Choi bids you goodbye, and you nod again before exiting her office.

It’s a start, you think. A pretty good one, at that.

Jaemin lazily thumbs through the pile of magazines in the pathetic excuse for a library the penitentiary has to offer, biding his time until the guards switch out their shifts. The clock ticks on endlessly, driving Jaemin closer and closer to insanity with every tick, tick, tick—

The air is uncomfortably warm and smells faintly of bleach and stale breath.

Tick, tick, tick—

The guard on duty yawns and looks at his watch.

Tick, tick, tick—

Another inmate in the “library” asks for permission to use the computer. Jaemin scoffs, wondering if his fellow prisoner is going to entertain himself with a game of Sudoku, Solitaire, or Minesweeper, seeing as how they have no access to the internet.

Tick, tick, tick—

Jaemin stands up slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to himself, and walks between the bookshelves holding barely anything worthwhile. He browses through the book selection, slender fingers stroking the spine of each hardcover book, before he finally finds what he’s been looking for. 

He brings the book back to his seat and angles the spine up so the cover is easily visible to anyone who may look at him. Feigning a pensive expression, Jaemin flips to the middle of the book. The back half of the pages have been meticulously hollowed out in the shape of a rectangle and there, in the makeshift pocket, lies a smartphone. 

Jaemin smirks to himself, smoothly pocketing the phone, and busies himself with looking through the pages of the book that haven’t been carved into. Hardcover books are typically off-limits, barely even allowed in the penitentiary, but Jaemin’s been getting some special perks due to “good behavior.”

To avoid arousing suspicion, he closes the book and gets up to put it back on the shelf, instead picking up a random self-help softcover book and leafing through the pages idly until that glorious tick, tick, tick—

There’s a brief sound of shuffling as the guard on duty stands up and offers his seat to the new guard about to assume his post. The first guard leaves, and the new guard sits down in the seat, leaning back to get comfortable. 

Jaemin waits.

Tick, tick, tick.

The guard sighs, already bored with his assignment, and Jaemin enacts his plan. Scrunching his face up in discomfort, he stands up and, clutching his stomach, makes his way over to the guard, who sits up in his seat immediately, apprehensive upon Jaemin’s approach.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his voice rough like sandpaper, and Jaemin groans once for effect.

“I need to use the bathroom. I think I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, and the guard’s eyebrows furrow as he appears to think about it. Jaemin can only hope this guard isn’t on a sick little power trip and won’t feel like denying him the bathroom just for the hell of it.

To really sell it, Jaemin lurches forward, doubling over as he mimics the sounds of poorly restrained retching. The guard’s face contorts into disgust, and he waves at the hallway in admission.

“I knew there was something fishy about those Sloppy Joes for lunch.” Jaemin hears the guard muttering to himself and masks his smirk with another discomfort-borne twisting of his lips.

He staggers past the guards in the hallway, walking past one tall, burly guard Jaemin has a feeling he shouldn’t piss off and a thin, almost lanky guard who could probably blow away if the wind got too strong, and makes his way into the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and dropping to his knees. As he hunches over the toilet bowl, he fishes out the sleek black rectangle from his pocket and powers the phone on, quickly opening up the internet browser and typing in what he’s looking for.

Jaemin fake retches loudly to keep up appearances, fingers of his free hand drumming impatiently on his lower thigh, and sighs in relief when the familiar page loads.

FunBunny is now live.

“Not now, FunBunny,” Jaemin mutters. “I have someone in mind.”

He types in the username he’s had swimming around in his mind for the past three months since he’s been locked up and when the page buffers, no doubt due to the shitty internet connection in the prison, Jaemin sucks his teeth. 

“Come on, come on, come on.” He’s alight with a buzz, the jitters settling in as the page finally loads, only for his heart to drop to the bottom of his stomach.

User ‘PL4YG1RL’ does not exist. Please try a different search term.

Jaemin stares at the screen incredulously, anger and frustration building slowly but steadily and now he swears he really can feel bile rising in his throat.

“Impossible.” He spits through gritted teeth, now dangerously close to losing his composure. He’s waited three months—three fucking months—to see you again, and you’ve managed to slip through his fingers.

He refreshes the page in a refusal to accept the situation, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turn white, and has to restrain the urge to slam the phone down on the grimy tiles in defeat when the page finishes loading to show the same screen as before.

“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Jaemin slams his hand against the wall of the bathroom stall before growling, his tethers to sanity starting to slip away the further he spirals into his thoughts.

“Inmate, what’s going on in there?” One of the guards from the hallway calls out, the bass in his voice snapping Jaemin back to reality. 

“Got sick from the Sloppy Joes,” Jaemin grunts back, running his fingers through his hair and barely restraining himself from yanking the locks out at the root. 

“Those always seemed odd to me, y’know.” Another voice, a thinner, more mousy voice sounds out, presumably the less imposing of the two guards. “Always thought they smelled kinda funny.”

“Yeah.” The burly guard is dismissive at best, and whatever the mousy guard says as a follow-up comment goes unheard by Jaemin as he refocuses his attention on the disappointing sight on his phone screen. 

Jaemin stands up finally, shutting the phone off and pocketing it once more. He flushes the toilet with his foot and exits the stall, washing his hands. He stares himself down in the dirty bathroom mirror, at the dark circles that have formed under his eyes since his time in prison began, the scowl Jaemin’s mouth is unwaveringly twisted into, and he grits his teeth. He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands, and heads out of the bathroom and back to the library with a building resolve in his chest.

Jaemin will find you again—no matter what it takes.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :) tips are greatly appreciated!

SUPPORT ME?  VENMO !!  CASHAPP !!  KO-FI !!  WISHLIST !! (why?)

[mrghostrat]

tomorrow we're having another fic night in my discord server! @eviebane has already hosted a handful of these with chapter readings, a trivia quiz, and usually good omens themed gartic phone or cards against humanity to end the night 😍

this time we're trying out discord's "events" feature so you can enable a reminder and convert the event to your timezone. we're also hosting it in a different kind of voice channel called a "stage", where cam/mic will be exclusive to me and evie, and the text chat can fit up to 350 people!! so i can finally tell tumblr about it without fear of the room capping out 🙏 it should be much easier to lurk and watch without drawing attention to yourself if you're shy

starts midnight BST • usually lasts 2-3 hours • JOIN HERE

cover art by @omens-for-ophelia 💕

[pupyuj]

7th member and g!p wonyoung where rumors run around a lot that you and wonyoung don't get along well because you really can't look each in the eye and doesn't interact that much but in reality, you can't look at her in the eye because you're too shy after she fucked your brains out last night and you won't interact that much on cam because wony know that she'll just end up getting a boner and might just consider bending you over right there and then 🥰🥰🥰

sndbdjcncdk i love getting g!p wony asks it's my favorite thing 😩😩😩 it's so obvious that i got way too into this i'm sorry i'm an ive girl through and through .

ya'll know i love giving these things a little backstory and some build-up so... it was just supposed to be a cute little hook-up between you and your favorite dorm mate 😳 the two of you have just come home from a party, giggling and whispering flirty things to each other while you stumbled inside your shared dorm... hands touching and groping anywhere and passing it off as a joke but the next thing you knew you were making out on the couch with wony on top 😵‍💫 she was grinding and humping, needing relief for her cock bcs she has stared at you all night and wanted nothing more but to fuck you, not at all giving a damn about the consequences 🫣 needless to say, you absolutely did get fucked very good, too good maybe, on that couch (and in her bed right after)! you fell asleep in peace thinking that everything will be fine the next morning.. but oh, no they weren't 😬

suddenly you couldn't talk to each other like normal friends 😭 only a few words were shared between the two of you since that night, and you only looked at each other when it was absolutely necessary 😭😭 ofc the fans would notice it very quickly bcs all of your habits around each other have changed :( you used to sit very close to each other all the time, but now you're on opposite sides when the group is doing a live or smth 💔 on top of all that, you stopped talking about each other on fancafes, bubble, etc... it was a bit heartbreaking actually, it was like witnessing a friendship breakup in real time 😭😭 no selfies tgt, no random moments of each other on your individual instas, no reports of a 2 am convenience store run... oh, the (y/n) x wonyoung shippers were in the trenches during this time 😩 (annyeongz shooters can relate—)

and then it gets to a point where it was blown out of proportion online 😬 articles being made, think pieces being written about the current state of your friendship... there was a viral clip of you seemingly side-eyeing wonyoung and acting like a bitch behind her back... which your fans fought everybody to hell for bcs they knew you loved her more than anything 🥹🥹

it was yujin who took notice of this.. thing between you guys ofc and cornered the two of you one day, telling you to get your act together and sort your problems out bcs it was affecting the group dynamic too 💔 apparently jiwon was feeling guilty bcs it was now her that you took to those midnight strolls, and rei always felt like she was 'homewrecking' whenever wonyoung was affectionate with her and not you 😭😭😭 coming home after getting scolded by your leader, the two of you sitting on that very same couch where you fucked, awkward and silent...

"i miss you." it was her that broke the silence. that was really all it took for you to jump in her arms and hug her tightly :(( wony was your best friend, the one who knows all your secrets, the one who remembers every single funny moment in your childhood and reminds you of it to cheer you up, the one who always wiped your tears away when you cried — it hurt to not get along with her 💔💔 "we don't have to make that whole thing be such a bad thing... we can just laugh about it, and... and—" wonyoung looks at you, at your soft smile while you cupped her cheeks in your hands, at your lips (she remembers hoe you kissed her that night), at your body and the way you looked like you belong right on her lap... "and we can just do it again.. and again... over and over..." she says boldly. well that certainly caught you off guard, but who were you to say no?

the two of you were really just supposed to talk, but now wony has you bent over the couch, her hips slapping against your ass while her dick slammed deeper and deeper by the second inside you... your cunt fit perfectly around her cock, it was an almost hypnotizing feeling fucking you 😵‍💫 wony thrusting faster, getting bursts of energy every time you moaned her name... then she's right up in your ear, "w-we... we won't need to leave the dorm when we're bored anymore... we can just fuck.. all the time... does that sound appealing enough, baby?" she was asking.

you nodded, "yes, y-yes, wonyoung... ahh.. mhmm..! i'll always be ready for you... just say the word.. or better yet, just f-fucking... shitshit... just grab me and fuck me... i love your cock.. i love it..." you were convinced that there wasn't a better feeling in the world that getting fucked by your gorgeous best friend, and there really wasn't!

shdbfjfksf wony turning you around so she could look at your face while she pounded into you :((( you were so pretty to her, she will never regret fucking you that night 🤤🤤 deliberately clenching around her cock, smiling at the way it only made her pound you faster — you can't get enough of each other 😵‍💫 kissing as you both came, feeling absolutely at bliss while her cum filled up your cunt... she definitely breeded you all night, she had to make up for lost time! 😉 filled you up on her bed, the showers, on her bed again after showering, even when you slept she was fucking into you... just dumping all of her seed in you bcs she missed you so muchhh :((( and yeah you get your revenge bcs when wony woke up the next morning and she looked down, you winked at her with her cock deep down your throat... and then you rode her until she was a drooling, babbling mess...

sorry did i mention that you guys are just fucking insane? right after that, you were cockwarming her while the two of you had breakfast, then wony was feeling you up impatiently while you washed the dishes, then you were fucking on the couch again while the morning news was on... and you ended up getting ten missed calls from yujin that entire morning bcs wony got very, very busy spilling every drop of her cum inside your pussy AND YET....... it was never enough 🥵🥵🥵

did you ever get off her cock that whole day? probably not... but hey, it did wonders for your friendship!

fans now see that the two of you were closer than ever! back to being jokey around each other, wony now always had an arm wrapped around your waist and you were always combing her hair with your fingers bcs you knew it eased her, and ofc you grew more affectionate towards each other! maybe a bit too much.. but it was wayyy better than when you pretended like the other didn't exist 🤭🤭

see, what they all don't know is after that very fun and loud live at the practice room, wony fucked you to hell in one of those secluded rooms in the company building, making you see the stars while you came all over her cock 😵‍💫 yeah that hook-up was a blessing alright...

[mvltisstuff]

can you pls write head cannons for dating cam Cameron ( tsitp ) if not it’s fine, thank you so much lovely xx 🩷

cam cameron hcs

i genuinely think cam would be the best boyfriend in the show

he’d def bring you flowers for no reason, just because he wants to make you happy

even though cam doesn’t drink, if you drink too much he would take care of you no matter what

he doesn’t need drugs or alcohol to be the life of the party

karaoke king 👑

he would 100% love to go to the deb ball with you. i feel like he’d get nervous and like freeze when he sees you in a beautiful dress and hair

whenever you two have heart to heart convos, he listens so intently and just takes in every word. he fs loves when people listen to him and his history because he feels trusted

he texts you right at midnight on your birthday

falls asleep first at sleepovers though and wakes up super early

if he threw a party he’d be right behind everyone picking up their trash (emma from h2o vibes)

he would love taylor swift with no shame

his favorite album is red or evermore

was def a 1d stan and freaks out when there’s reunion rumors

he thinks movie nights are the best and always lets you pick the movie

very random but i feel like he’d love going to baseball games like the red sox (same)

has screen time reminders

whenever he cuddles with you he loves to wrap his arms around you and lay his head on your chest

if you work in a cafe or a little shop somewhere he always comes to visit

literally if you forget your lunch he will make another one for you

makes a mean dessert for gatherings

people watcher!! he’s an observer fr

ik he helps his mom do chores and treats her like royalty (as he should 🙌)

he would take his gf to see the barbie movie if it means something to her and bring flowers and candy for them (if my boyfriend ever did this for me i’d marry him)

he loves swimming with you in the pool and his favorite thing to do it make a whirlpool

he would literally spend hours on it if he could

i feel like he has a color coordinated closet

had a crush on jeremiah (jam supremacy)

he loves holding your hand whenever he can

on the boardwalk he just swings your hands and doesn’t let go

he’s always kind to everyone, even if they’re not to him

he’s so passionate and loves talking about his interests

if he’s away on an internship or something he tries to contact you in any way he can, and when he comes back he wants to spend as long as he can with you

i love cam cameron and you should too!!

i’ve never done head cannons before, but i hope these are alright <3 i cant wait to write more fics for him

[vampirevatican]

nsfw levi headcanons, bc the thoughts won't stop...

(MDNI, NSFW BELOW)

long forked tongue.

he has a snake and water motif, yeah?

he's a water type, yeah??

he's a serpent. so for important reasons, he has a forked tongue and a dual dong

it's like a snake's wee wee anatomy, so yes phallic but very tentacle and wiggly

he can sheath and unsheath his hemipeen

so... does he look a bit like a ken doll with it sheathed?? yes, and ofc there's a slight lump there and if you rub it you'll awaken the peni

now if you're wondering my thoughts on size?? he's pretty average, i wanna say 5 inches

and listen if that's not enough im sorry but, dude is blessed with TWO and if anyone has something bigger than average??? it's gotta be diavolo and/or beel

anyway, can he unhinge his jaw you ask!? why yes, yes ofc he can.

how else is he supposed to fit that long, flexible, forked tongue in his mouth

can move his tongue pretty fast if you catch my drift

speaking about his mouth... yes he has shark teeth and ofc he's careful with them and warns you before things get too heated

his tail, you ask?! ofc, thiccest where it connects at the base of his spine and tapers to a point.

so when it slides in... he makes sure to do it nice and slow.... unless y'all are doing more than one round or you're already loose

yes he is a sub and simp boy but also he can be very rough if desperately horny and possessive, so be careful

masochist. there's no other way to say it. dude gets off on having his peni stepped on and being degraded

though ofc he only takes the degrading from you, and mainly in steamy situations

perv too. i said it before and i'll say it again, mfer would sniff your undies and shudder in delight.

fantasies about you being his little cam whore, but just for him. he is the avatar of envy after all.

cosplay sex?? oh it happens. yes i am saying this because of brief and panty, don't look at me like that.

sexting?? that's when he can be his most confident and dominant, because he doesn't have to physically see you and overthink his actions

even better do rp chats with him, with y'all's fave pairings?? oooh wee, after a certain point if you show up at his door be prepared to be pulled in so fast and to stay in his room til midnight or the next morning

very much a pushover, so when ur the dom anything you say goes.

when he's dom he enjoys every second of your submissive compliance, it really boosts his ego

okay... to finish this off. no he is not buff or built. yes he has demon strength and because of his body type being on the lean, kinda scrawny side he's got that secret build going for him.